#i just don’t want to have to explain to people why i fucked up and have to go back again

[stollengoods]

Fine, Let’s Play Dirty.

Thanos x Fem! Reader

REQ. Thanos Smut

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, & smut

Summary: “… And I’ll make her my bitch. She’ll love it.” Was the last thing Myung-gi heard as he tried but failed to hit Thanos. He Then saw stars before his vision went completely black as Thanos had successfully planted a punch to the right side of his face. Afterwards Myung-gi didn’t think too much into what Thanos had said, he figured he was just blowing smoke but should’ve realized what Thanos had told him was a warning. He’s coming for y/n.

————

“Hola, señorita.”

You turned around to see Thanos behind you. “Sorry, no hablo español.” You grunted, walking past him.

He let out a chuckle as he turned on his heel to follow you, “That’s okay, baby.” He replied in English, “I speak numero tres languages.”

You turned around crossing your arms and watched as both of his hands held up three fingers with different colored fingernails on each.

You blew out a breath, “What do you want Thanos ?”

His hands went to his chest as he stepped closer to you, “Hey hey baby, why so hostile ?” He asked with a voice full of concern.

You glanced up and down at him not even trying to hide the disgusted look on your face, as you took a step back.

“It’s your bitch of a boyfriend, huh ?”

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip to suppress a laugh, you knew it would only encourage him more.

“Mmm.” He hummed, waggling his finger at you, “I’ve seem to have strike a nerve.”

“You didn’t strike shit.” You spat and his eyes widened in surprise.

The venom in your tone even shocked you but you continued on, “-He’s not my boyfriend, not that it’s any of your business.” You mumbled the last part under your breathe.

“-And stop calling me baby, I don’t know you dude.”

You thought about walking away, but his reaction to you not only confused you but intrigued you. His posture seemed more cocky than before as he leaned against one of the bed polls beside him.

“Señorita, you don’t know me ?” He sneered, “Your lil boyfriend told me other wise.”

You tilted your head calling his bluff and he continued, “He said you fucked with my music.”

You laughed, licking your lips in nervousness, “Why would he say that, he hates you.”

That made Thanos smile, “He told me that you would play my music in the car and he didn’t understand why because to him it sounded like shit.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I guess he considered that an insult but I didn’t.”

You felt your cheeks burn, “I liked a few songs…” You confessed, not looking him in the eyes, “Like one or two, I wasn’t a fan or anything.” Your voice sounded pathetic even to you.

His index finger and thumb pinched your chin making you look up at him, “You don’t seem to be much of a fan of your boyfriend either.”

You squinted your eyes, “Again not my boyfriend.” You corrected, ripping your chin out of his grip, “And no I’m not the biggest fan of him… You’re not the only one who got financially screwed here.”

His eyebrows narrowed, “Wait. He had you invest in his shit-coin too ?”

“Yes.”

He scoffed, “What a dick sucker.”

“You’re telling me.” You mumbled under your breath.

“That’s the main reason I came over here.” Thanos explained, “I frequently see you guys arguing… I figured it was just relationship drama, but now I know why. It’s ’cause you’re one of us.”

You raised an eyebrow, “One of who ?”

“One of the people that shit-face scammed.” He scorned, “I thought he only did it to strangers on the internet but your telling me he did it to the people he loved too ? That’s just foul.”

You weren’t buying any of Thanos’s sympathy, “Why did you really come over to talk to me ?”

Thanos smirked, realizing you weren’t falling for his charade. “Okay, fine.” He raised his palms up, “You got me.”

Your eyes glared at him as he continued, “I can beat your boyfriend up all day long, okay ? It’s easy and getting kind of boring if I’m being honest.”

“I’m so sorry.” You monotoned.

He smiled, “It’s not your fault sweetheart.” He retorted and you rolled your eyes. “Anyways, I was thinking of ways I could mentally torture him and what’s better than getting with his girl ?”

Your mouth was agape as you took in what he was saying, “You know with every word that comes out of your mouth, you’re sounding more and more like a psychopath.” You commented.

He tilted his head with a gleam in his eyes, “C’mon baby…” He said, “You’re telling me you haven’t wanted to torture him both mentally and physically ever since he ruined your life ? Don’t lie.”

You made eye contact with him, “I’ve thought about it yes, but I would never actually-“

“Why not ?”

You shook your head, “Beacuse- I’m- I’m just not that type of person.”

Thanos sniggered, “Were all complex creatures y/n.”

“Yes, but there’s a clear difference between good and bad people.”

“Is there ?” He pouted, “I’m sure you didn’t think your boyfriend would tell you to invest in something only to take all your money away.”

You pursed your lips as you put your hands on your hips and looked away in slight embarrassment.

“What category would he fall under ?” He asked.

————

That’s how Thanos got you making out with him against the men’s restroom wall. You couldn’t argue with him, even tho you didn’t think that highly of him in the education department, he sure knew how to talk his way out of things or in this case into things.

Your hands tangled in his hair as you two breathlessly made out with each other. You couldn’t lie, kissing your ex boyfriend’s enemy did spike your arousal a bit.

Thanos pulled away, scanning your face, “Are you okay to continue ?”

You glowered at him, “Please drop the nice guy act.”

He didn’t smile or laugh, “I’m serious, I don’t mind fucking with assholes like Myung-gi but I never want to take advantage of women. Only pathetic pussy’s do that shit.”

You starred at him for a bit, trying to find any hint of deceit and when you saw that he was being completely sincere you almost wanted to jump his bones. You stopped yourself tho, not wanting to give him a bigger head than he already had.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “I’m fine.”

He leaned in re-attaching your lips to his, you decided to be a bit bold and slipped your hand underneath his pants, past his underwear to his cock. He twitched in your hand and that made you smirk into the kiss.

Not only was he big but very girthy, your mouth watered as you pictured him inside of you, stretching your walls. You used your other hand to guide his hand under the hem of your shirt. He got the hint from there and massaged your boob while he discounted his lips from yours to suck hickeys on your neck.

You reached your hand up to your mouth, spitting in it to then wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him this time.

“Ahh- fuck- Thanos.” You whined as he nipped at your neck, “Why are you biting so hard ?”

“I want to make sure he sees what I’ve done to you. If he doesn’t then what’s the point ?”

“So I’m just a pawn then ?”

He chuckled which tickled your neck, “Don’t act like you’re not using me as well.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You breathed.

“Make me.” He retorted.

You pushed him back so he was now facing you, “Do you want to fuck me or not ?”

“Of course, who wouldn’t ?” He smirked and god did you want his smart-ass to shut up.

A smile formed on your lips as you thought of a way you could make him shut up for once. “Get on your knees.” You commanded.

To your surprise he sunk down to his knees without hesitation. He peered up at you as if waiting for your next order. “Take off my pants.”

He hooked his fingers in your waist band and dragged them down. You kicked them off to the side as Thanos was about to take off your underwear as well. Your hand went to his hair and you yanked a fist full of it to the side.

“Ahh-“ Thanos grunted, his hands resting over yours on his head.

“Did I say you could take off my underwear ?” You cooed.

You released his hair as he looked up at you with a mixture of confusion and anger. You felt your arousal build being able to take control of a man who could easily dominate you.

“You can take them off now.”

He blinked his eyes a couple of times before doing as told. His eyes glazed over as he saw a string of your arousal disconnect from your underwear and drip onto the floor.

Once your underwear sunk to the ground, you kicked them away. Thanos’s hands gripped your thighs as he starred longingly at your soaked pussy.

“What are you waiting for ?” You cooed, looking down at him as he made eye contact with you.

“You’re permission.” His hands gripped your thighs as he looked back at your pussy, unconsciously licking his lips.

“That’s a good boy.” You smiled, reaching your hand down you used your index finger and thumb to pinch his chin like he did to you earlier. You brought his face closer until his lips touched your heat.

“Go ahead.”

Even though you were expecting his tongue in you, your body still jolted against the wall in a lovely surprise. His hands held a firm grip on your thighs as they already began to shake.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips, the world around you fading away as all you could focus on was his soft lips kissing your clit and then periodically his tongue would lick your slit.

And just when you were about to hit your peak, he stalled the movements of his mouth. You were too much in a daze to notice until he stood up, hovering over you.

“Did I say you could stop ?” You rebuked.

He suddenly cupped the side of your face and pulled you into a very needy kiss. You tasted your juices on his lips and tongue as his hand reached down to circle your clit with his fingers.

“Listen here Señorita-“ His voice was husky and deeper than usual, “I don’t mind letting you take control every now and then but with me, control is going to be 50/50 you understand ?”

You tried responding to him, you really did but all you could muster were moans at the moment. His other hand that wasn’t occupied, grabbed your throat.

“Do you understand ?”

You frantically nodded your head, “Y-yes sir.” You squeaked out.

He smirked, “Sir ? I like that.”

He released your throat and your hands instinctively went up to it as you gasped for air. He placed his hand on your shoulder and shoved you to the floor. Your knees hit the ground first, your hands catching you before any of your upper body fell to the floor.

You were breathing really heavy now, due to the adrenaline rush. He was being very aggressive and you knew you should probably leave but for some reason you liked it. All your nerves were on edge as your body was in fight or flight right now, but all you wanted to do was fuck him.

You looked up at him, from were you were he looked like a giant.

“You know what to do.”

You gulped, before crawling forward and sitting up to pull down his pants along with his underwear. He was huge, if you had to guess 7-8 inches and you were both aroused and scared imagining him inside you.

You wrapped your hand around his base and licked the pre-cum off of his tip. A low moan escaped his lips as his hand laid on the back of your head. You licked your lips, feeling his lack of patience and took his cock into your mouth.

————

Nam-gyu saw you leave with Thanos earlier to the bathroom. And when he saw Myung-gi asking one of the guards to use the restroom he jogged up to them saying he had to use the bathroom as well.

Myung-gi didn’t say anything but gave him the stink eye. Nam-gyu just smiled in return as he followed after them. The guard stopped right outside the bathroom door as they both went inside.

When the door shut, Nam-gyu’s sweater paws covered his mouth in both awe and shock. He knew that you guys were going to hook up but he figured y’all would be in a stall; not out in the open to where just anyone can walk in and see.

His eyes flicked over to Myung-gi who’s fist were clenched and Nam-gyu acted quickly. Grabbing him from behind he put a hand over his mouth and dragged him back.

Thanos was admiring how well you were suck his cock when he heard some commotion and looked up to see Myung-gi trying to charge forward at him but Nam-gyu held him back.

Thanos smiled at him, giving him the finger before yanking you off his cock and pulling you up by your hair. He quickly flipped you around, your back against the wall as he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around him and he turned to the side to drop you off in the sink.

You pulled him into a kiss, spreading your legs further for him to get better access.

“You want it, y/n ?” He breathed as he took his dick into his hand lining it up with your entrance.

“Yes~” You whined, “Please baby.”

His smile reached his eyes at your pet name, “Baby ? I thought you didn’t know me ?” He mocked and you weakly slapped his chest.

“Fuck- Thanos- please just shut up and fuck me !”

With that he rammed himself into you, moan after moan leaving your mouth as his pace was relentless once he was fully inside you.

Nam-gyu chuckled as he felt Myung-gi really trying to free himself from his grasp now. “Hey hey hey…” Nam-gyu cooed into his ear as your moans echoed off the walls.

Myung-gi muffled something into his hand that Nam-gyu couldn’t quite understand except for a few curse words that Myung-gi empathized.

He tsked into his ear, “You like watching your bitch get fucked, huh ? You fucking cuck.”

Myung-gi then bit the inside of Nam-guy’s hand, “Aish ! You fucking-“ He retracted his hands and Myung-gi charged towards Thanos.

He reached up to yank a fist full of Thanos’s hair back. Thanos hissed and cursed under his breath as he pulled out of you. You whimpered trying to grasp at him as he turned around.

You saw as Thanos threw a punch and hit somebody in front of him. You gasped not realizing anyone else was in here.

“Hey man, I tried holding him back as much as I could-“

You screamed as you saw Nam-gyu approach Thanos, frantically trying to cover up your lower half.

Nam-gyu flinched back at your outburst giving you the side eye, “Don’t flatter yourself sweetie.” He rejoinder.

You hopped off the sink and quickly gathered your clothes. While slipping them on you recognized the person on the floor to be your ex.

“What happened ?” You asked them as you kneeled down in front of him.

Thanos smirked, “He watched his girl become mine.”

You stood up, standing next to Thanos, “I am not your girl.”

“Oh really, baby ?” He mocked.

You rolled your eyes, “Fuck you.”

He chuckled, “You just did. You trying for round two ?” He gestured back towards the sink with his hand.

You glared at him but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Not if that freak is watching us again.” You said sneering at Nam-gyu.

“I only came to see the look on Myung-gi’s face when he sees his girlfriend getting dick down by another man.” He crossed his arms, “So fuck off.”

Thanos laughed, “Guys chill.”

Nam-gyu sighed heavily and you nodded your head.

“Is he dead ?” You asked, half-serious.

Nam-gyu kicked his leg, “Probably.”

Thanos waved his hand dismissively, “No, he’s just knocked out, he’ll wake up in a few minutes.”

“When we were leaving they announced dinner was going to be soon, you guys hungry ?” Nam-gyu said, tucking his hair behind his ears.

You looked over at Thanos and he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah I could eat.” You shrugged.

“Alright, then let’s get the fuck out of here.” Thanos replied and Nam-gyu hollered as he kicked Myung-gi in his side and skipped out of the bathroom following you and Thanos.

————

(A/N): This was all over the place but fun to write lol

[puck-luck]

trevor would overhear you call him your friend and then when fucking you hed make you say he’s just your friend

warnings: part two of this blurb from my 1k celly (CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE!!), fwb relationship, hockey player x employee of the team, former grudges from boston university mentioned, banter (flirting by bullying), oral m!receiving, talk about porn and references to filming, talk about fem!masturbation and using toys, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lack of aftercare bc… well. it’s TZ. love him, but that boy isn’t an aftercare machine.

pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader

wc: 4,150

Trevor is going home for the second week of the break in February, but you’re not. You have some work to do for the Ducks during the break, since you’re not one of the players. You still have to do your job instead of getting two weeks off, which Trevor didn’t seem to realize at first. 

You’ve been hooking up for weeks now, always in secret, and that’s how you like it. Trevor likes how your relationship is too, but he’d asked you to come over to his apartment and stay with him before he left for break. He’d incentivized you by saying “It’ll be like a fuckfest, we’ll have sex, eat, sleep, have sex some more… doesn’t that sound fun?”

Trevor wasn’t wrong; his statement had sounded fun. Regrettably, you could not accept his invitation. When you’d explained that it was because of work, Trevor had pouted but accepted it. You’d instead made plans to meet up on Friday night to hook up before he left on Saturday.

It’s not a surprise, then, when Trevor lets himself into your apartment after you unlock it for him. You’re on the phone with a friend right now, so you give him little more than a wave when he crosses the threshold. You’re just catching up with the girl on the other end of the call, so it’s nothing pressing. You wait for a break in the conversation, then bid her goodbye. 

“I gotta go, my friend just got here,” you tell her. “We’ll talk soon. Mhm. G’bye.” You hang up and set the phone down.

Trevor has a coy smile on his face when you turn to say hello to him. “You think we’re friends now?”

“I like that friend, but not enough to tell her that I’m hanging up on her because my fuckbuddy is here,” you sass him. “That’s strictly a conversation for my bestie.”

Trevor’s smile widens. “Aww, your best friend knows about us?”

You scoff. “What, yours doesn’t?”

Trevor’s silence strikes a chord within you.

“Really? You haven’t told anyone about this,” you state, crossing your arms over your chest and tapping your foot impatiently. Trevor doesn’t seem like the type to keep a secret, not when it comes to his conquests. He’s very confident with his ability in bed, bordering on bragging whenever you two talk about the past. He’s got no shame when he talks to you about how he once make a girl come on his fingers in less than two minutes, then swore he could do the same to you. 

Trevor guffaws. “Do you think I want people knowing that I’m fucking you?”

Your jaw drops. Was that really necessary?

“I mean, you work for the team,” Trevor continues. “I don’t think it would be great if that got out. Do you?”

So he’s not being a complete dick. He’s still not being nice, though. He’s rather condescending, actually. You’re more than willing to tell him so.

“We don’t have to talk if you’re going to be an ass, Trevor,” you tell him. “Why don’t you just do what you’re here to do, and then you can leave?”

“You don’t want to hang out with your friend?” Trevor goads. He’s already pulling at the neckline of his t-shirt, tugging it over his head. “Are you using me for my body?”

You make a face at him. “Yes. You know that.”

Trevor laughs breathily and tosses his shirt at you, bringing his arms up and flexing, showing off his biceps and his muscular torso. He turns his head to the side so you can see his profile. 

You roll your eyes, throwing his shirt back at his chest. “Don’t get cocky. You’re using me for my body too, after all.”

Trevor presses a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded that you would say that. Do you think so little of me?”

“You wanted this week to be a sexathon,” you deadpan. You are not deluded enough to think that Trevor’s heart lives in his penis.

“I believe I said fuckfest,” Trevor corrects. 

Another eye roll from you. “Trevor, it’s okay that you’re using me for my body,” you try to convince him, nodding in an exaggerated way. You make your eyes look big and innocent, pouting your bottom lip out. “I have no interest in doing more with you.”

Trevor returns your pout. “So you lied when you said we were friends?”

He’s clearly not going to let this go anytime soon. “Drop it,” you admonish anyway. You step towards him, getting your hand on the rolled waistband of his sweats.  “Let’s fuck.”

He smiles. Trevor ducks his head to plant a kiss on your mouth. “I want to watch you touch yourself,” he says. “I was thinking about that the other day.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask him. You start to walk backwards, taking careful step after careful step towards your bedroom. You’re bringing Trevor with you– when you step back with your left, he steps forward with his right, and vice versa. It’s a fun little dance and Trevor’s looking down at you with that smug light in his eyes. “When? The other night when I wouldn’t come over because I had that 9 A.M. meeting?”

“Nah, I was watching porn that night,” Trevor drawls, his smile growing crooked. 

“Gross,” you reply. “I bet if you weren’t in hockey, you’d tear that industry up.”

“You think I’d be good on camera?” he teases. “Are you trying to tell me something?” Trevor reaches behind you and opens the door to your bedroom, swinging it open so you can continue your trek backwards.

“No way,” you say. Your knees hit the back of your bed and you fall backwards, pulling Trevor down on top of you. “You don’t want this getting out and neither do I.”

Without giving Trevor a chance to reply, you find his lips and kiss him. Trevor lets out a soft moan as his crotch comes into contact with the dip between your legs and you take advantage of the way his mouth has opened, licking over his lips and into his mouth.

“You gonna put on a show for me?” Trevor mumbles against your lips between kisses. “What if you fucked yourself with that vibrator I got you?”

“It’s dead,” you tell him.

Trevor pushes your shirt up and pulls it over your head. “Doesn’t mean you can’t fuck yourself with it, ‘nd touch your clit with those pretty fingers at the same time.” He fits his face between your breasts and leaves soft kisses over the swell of one boob, then the other. Trevor is digging his hands beneath your back to tug at the clasp of your bra, determined to undress you quickly.

“What are you going to do? Sit and stare? I don’t think so,” you say, shaking your head. You scratch down his back with the tips of your fingernails, tapping your fingers pointedly between the dimples on Trevor’s lower back. “I can fuck myself with that vibrator anytime, Z. I won’t get your cock for a whole week.”

He unclasps your bra and whips it off, tossing it across the room. Trevor starts to leave bite marks over your tits, his teeth digging into your flesh. “You’ll miss your friend, huh?”

“I’ll miss your dick,” you concede. “You have a very high sex drive and it’s spoiling me.” You say it so Trevor can’t tell if you mean that he’s spoiling you like lavishing you in gifts… or if he’s spoiling you like your sex drive is deteriorating into something akin to his.

“New plan, then.” Trevor smirks. He pushes up from the bed and drops his sweatpants, then shucks his underwear to the corner of the room where your bra lays. “If you’re going to miss my cock so much, then you’ve gotta suck him before I fuck you.”

“Him?” you repeat, laughing. You prop yourself up on your elbows and raise an eyebrow at Trevor. “Are you one of those people that has a name for your penis?”

Trevor shrugs, just to annoy you. It’s pretty clear that he does from his reaction, but he doesn’t tell you yes or no. 

“You don’t even want to get me naked first?” you ask. You’re still wearing your jeans and panties, while Trevor is fully unclothed and completely unabashed about it. 

“Do you need to be naked to use your mouth?” Trevor always has a comeback like this. When you started working for the Ducks, you thought it was because he didn’t like you and that he was still holding his grudge against you after that meaningless incident at Boston University. Now, you realize it’s just because he’s a talker. He loves to say the things that come to mind, no matter what they are.

This time, you don’t deign him with a reply. You glare up at him through your eyelashes and slink off the bed, coming to your knees on the carpet. You sit back on your heels and keep your back straight– 2025 is the year of good posture, according to your New Year’s Resolution– then wrap your hand around his base. You straighten your index finger and brush the smattering of curls that grow on his pelvis. “You need a trim,” you inform him, just to get the last word, before you fit your lips around his tip.

Trevor, always the charmer and never content to let you win, cups your cheek and runs the pad of his thumb above your upper lip. “So do you.”

You narrow your eyes and scrape your bottom teeth along the underside of his cock, purposefully dragging them against his sensitive skin. 

Trevor hisses and grimaces, but the smirk remains on his lips and the light never leaves his eyes. He watches your every movement and, if you didn’t know Trevor so well, you might mistake his gaze for admiration.

You swallow him down, taking inch after inch of Trevor’s cock and allowing your spit to slide from your mouth and wet his shaft. The saliva allows your hand an easier glide as you pump the remainder of his length. You could fit it into your mouth, but you just don’t want to choke and gag and get dizzy on his cock today. It’s a sexathon, not a sprint.

Regardless, you give Trevor’s cock plenty of attention. You enjoy sucking him off. You like stroking the skin on Trevor’s length with your hand, feeling it move underneath your palm. You like the noises Trevor makes as you slurp and bob your head and look up at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes. You love when he twitches in your mouth and flexes his abdomen because he’s feeling so good.

He pets through your hair and nudges your head down. “You know you can take more,” Trevor tells you softly, relatively subdued compared to his earlier banter. He’s not forcing or pushing you, just stating it.

You hum and nod, patting his hip. You pull off. “Can,” you repeat, emphasizing the key word. “I’m pacing myself.”

“Mm, you’re savoring it,” Trevor says, putting the words in your mouth. That’s absolutely not what you said, but whatever helps him sleep at night. 

You exhale a laugh from your nose, kissing the side of his base and continuing up his shaft, all the way until you reach his tip. You smile at Trevor sweetly before you swirl your tongue around his slit, then stretch your lips over your teeth and take him down. 

“That’s it,” Trevor murmurs. His eyes are hooded when you look up at him, the green there diluted by lust. “You look so pretty like this. We should do it more often.”

You nuzzle the tip of your nose against the hair you’d pointed out to him before. Upon drawing back, you start to strip his cock with your hand. “But don’t you like it more when you get my wet, tight pussy against the closet door before games?”

“Oh, love it,” Trevor chirps. “But I’d love to mess up your pretty gameday lipstick once in a while.”

You shake your head at him, pumping him even faster. You twist your hand around his tip and thumb over his slit, spreading the precum over the blushing skin. “I think the wrinkles in my work clothes are enough of a trophy for you, Z.”

Trevor shrugs, but his chest is moving deeply, showing that he’s actually pretty darn affected by your touch. 

You continue to speak. “You know what I like?” you ask.

Trevor hums and rolls his hips into your clutch.

“I like when we’re at our apartments,” you muse. You let his tip drag over your bottom lip, then to your chin so that he can see how your lip pops back into place, into a pout. “Because then, you don’t have to use a condom.”

Trevor groans, long and wanting. “That’s it, get on the bed,” he decides.

You break into a smile and relinquish your hold on his cock immediately, letting it bob in front of your face freely as you dig your nails into Trevor’s thighs and pull yourself up to a standing position. You wrap your arms around Trevor’s neck and brush your nose against his. “You have to take my pants off before you get inside me, you know.” You peck his lips and chuckle when his fingertips fly to the button of your jeans and make quick work of the zipper. 

“You’re so��” Trevor cuts himself off with a ‘hmph’ as he pushes your jeans and panties down. He pulls you close by your waist, blanketing your body with his when you fall back onto the mattress. Trevor grinds against your hip, bringing his hand to your core.

You pull back. “Don’t need that,” you tell him. “Fingered myself before you got here.”

“On the phone?” Trevor asks, drawing his eyebrows together.

You laugh. “No. Before that. Gross, Trevor.”

“Can you blame me for asking?” Trevor teases as he shifts between your legs, standing right at the edge of the bed. His thighs press into the mattress, but he’s still right above you. He hooks his hands under your knees and lifts, removing your clothing from where it had collected in a pile at your ankles. He circles his fingers around your ankles after tossing your jeans and panties to the side and spreads your legs, playing around to decide what position he wants today. He decides on pushing your right leg to your chest and hooking your left calf over his shoulder. Trevor leans down far enough that you’re stretching but not straining and plants a kiss on your lips. “You’re quite the exhibitionist.”

His acknowledgement of your gameday activities brings a smirk to your face. He’s just as bad as you are, even if he’s trying to shift the blame onto you.

Any retort evaporates from your tongue when Trevor starts to tap his cockhead against your entrance. It makes a hollow sound when he hits it in the perfect place the first time, so he does it a few extra times to see if he can emulate the sound again.

“Get in me,” you command, very serious and bossy now that he’s so close. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Trevor touts sarcastically, shifting to grip your hips with his strong hands. 

If you turn your ankle just right, you might be able to kick him in the head. You’re just about to test your luck when Trevor thrusts into you, hard, and your body goes boneless. He knocks a sigh from your lungs as he buries into you.

“So tight,” he grunts through his teeth. The corners of his lips turn up into a smirk. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?”

The way you’re clenching down on him and trying to adjust to his length should be a sign that you weren’t expecting him to start fucking into you right away. 

Trevor doesn’t slow down at all, snapping his hips forward and relishing in your reaction. He leans forward, cementing a hand next to your head. His chest pushes your folded leg further into your body and stretches the hamstring of the leg over his shoulder. His cock reaches a deeper point inside of you.

Your stomach jumps when Trevor’s tip contacts your sweet spot. The gasp that leaves your mouth earns you a smile and a peck, before Trevor hovers an inch above your face and directs a wad of his spit into your open mouth. You swallow it down and moan, a hand digging into Trevor’s chest to keep yourself grounded.

“I know what else you like,” Trevor murmurs, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning down to kiss the side of your face.

You choke out a “What?”, hoping that you sound like you’re challenging him and holding onto your sanity instead of easily falling apart on his length like a cockdrunk slut.

“You like it when I use you.” Trevor’s whisper is sultry and much more of a statement than a question. His lips align with your ear and he nibbles on the lobe. “That’s why you talk about it all the time. You like it when I fold your knees up to your chest so you’ll suck my cock in like my little toy. You like it when I leave you sore and your joints lock up because I’ve fucked you like this for too long.” He kisses a line down your neck, ignoring the blithering babbles that come from your lips. “You like it when I take care of you after, too, rubbing your hips and smoothing out the knots in your back. You like it when I treat you like nothing more than a body for me to use, baby, because you know I always take care of my things, hm? Is that it?”

You keen in the back of your throat, eyes prickling and stinging with spirals of pleasure.

“Go on and make a mess over my cock, babe,” Trevor encourages in a syrupy sweet tone that seeps into your mind like a weed growing between sidewalk cracks. “Prove me right.”

Still whining, you rock your hips up without a consistent rhythm. You’re trying to catch him in the exact right way, but you’re too impatient to think about your movements and how they might be hindering you instead of helping you.

Trevor smiles down at you, his expression condescending. His tattooed arm leaves your waist and comes up to your face, spindly digits wrapping around your throat and fingertips pressing into the soft skin on the sides of your neck. He steals the breath from your lungs again with a harsh thrust, a loud clap of skin against skin, and prevents you from bringing a new breath in with his heavy hand. 

Your vision dances with black spots and your chest shudders. Trevor’s grin is one of the only things you can see beyond the spots– they shroud his face and give you tunnel vision. Then, with a final jab of Trevor’s tip to the depths of your inner walls, you shudder all over and feel your body release its hold on your orgasm.

“Oh, beautiful,” Trevor praises smugly. He fucks you while you come, loving how your bedsheets grow damp beneath you after such a strong climax. “Knew you could do it. Squirting all over my cock and I didn’t even have to touch your clit.” He drops to his elbow, beside your head, and kisses your lips. He loosens his grip on your throat, but still rests his hand along the column of your neck. “I’ll make you even messier if you ask me to, baby. That’s what you want, right? For me to come inside of you?”

“Yes,” you whimper, lacing your fingers through the hair at the nape of Trevor’s neck and tugging him back to your lips. “Fuck, Trevor, come inside me.”

“Yeah?” Trevor asks again, pumping his hips. His pace has slowed, enough that the overstimulation is setting in for you. Trevor can probably feel your pussy quivering around him, trying to muster up that same pleasure from before. “You want it?”

“Please.” You arch your back, feeling your tits press against his chest. You’re sure Trevor can feel it too, and enjoys it.

Trevor slides his hand from your neck to behind your lower back, keeping your hips lifted. To counterbalance, your shoulders sink into the mattress. Trevor’s lips are hard against yours, moving clumsily as his thrusts become choppy. The sounds between your bodies are loud and wet. “Oh,” he groans. His forehead meets yours and his breath washes over your lips. You know this noise well– he makes an exaggerated version of it whenever he eats something in front of you, moaning out loud to see if he can make you glare and cross your legs, clenching your thighs together like a dog hearing the word ‘walk.’

And even though you know his game, you return his moan with a breathy sigh. You make a soft noise in your throat, almost inquisitive, tipping your chin up to capture his lips again. You catch the corner of his mouth, pursing your lips just right of where you want. 

Trevor turns his head and rectifies that, sliding his tongue into your mouth and groaning. The noise reverberates through your body. You move in tandem until you feel it– the subtle throb and twitch of Trevor’s cock inside of you as he reaches the brink of orgasm. 

You clench down on Trevor, reveling in the way he seems to falter in the middle of a kiss. He pauses for a split second, then spills into you and resumes his pace. There wasn’t a visible hesitation in his movements, but you know it was there. You could feel it in the tie between your bodies. 

Trevor floods your cunt with his cum, letting a long-drawn out moan fill your mouth similarly. “Fuck,” he drawls under his breath. His kisses grow shorter and shallower as his cock softens inside of you. “God, you feel good.” Trevor moves his mouth down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, and as far south as your stomach. His hands gently lower your legs to the bed and he squeezes your hips, but you shake your head. They don’t hurt this time– probably because you were on a bed rather than in a closet.

You can feel him starting to leak out of you onto the bedsheets. His cum, milky and white, joins the clear stain of your own. “You have to throw my laundry in the wash before you leave,” you tell Trevor. Now that you’ve been fucked into a state of pure bliss, you’re able to sink back into the dynamic that you and Trevor normally have– the biting banter that you both enjoy so much.

“Baby, I barely do my own laundry, why do you think I’m going to do yours?” Trevor replies. He pulls his cock from your entrance and reaches for the tissues on your bedside table, cleaning himself before going to find his pants.

He never does real aftercare with you, not even when you’re at your respective homes. That’s what this relationship is about– you’re not friends, really, even though it’s convenient to explain Trevor in that way to your actual friends. You fuck, always fast and to satisfy the urge, and then he leaves. You’re remarkably good at taking care of yourself after the fact.

Trevor bounces a little bit on his heels once he gets his boxers and sweats on, sticking his hand down the front to adjust his soft cock. He bites his bottom lip and flashes a shit-eating grin at you. 

You throw your arms above your head and stretch, humming as you feel your lower back pop. Your body becomes a fluid line, curves rippling and folding over or elongating with your movements. One of your hands comes to your ribcage after you stretch and you brush your underboob with your thumb.

Trevor crosses the room and plants a kiss on your lips, a quick one. He pinches your cheek and scrunches his nose when he pulls away. “I’ll be back the 20th,” Trevor tells you. “See you then?”

“That’s a Thursday,” you reply. “I have to be up early on Friday.”

“I won’t keep you up too late,” Trevor vows with a wink. “Why don’t you come over after work? I’ll fuck you on the kitchen counter and then I’ll send you off with a doggie bag.”

You snort out a laugh. “It better be something good.”

Trevor swats your hip and goes to the bedroom door. “You’ll have to wait and see. I’ll text you. Or, if I forget, you’ll text me.” He waves his fingers. “Toodles, babe. Have fun with your laundry.”

notes: hope y'all enjoyed! beaquinn baby name reveals are coming next, in four separate parts. after that, we will have the nicojack threesome. after that... maybe stg12. i haven't planned that far ahead yet. ttyl!

[nikalaeva]

Rhysand's Loneliness

(don't be fooled by the title, we don't support him here)

Suddenly a strange thought came to my mind. Of course, this is just another try to patch up the holes in boring ideal Rhysand, whom the fans don't want to see as either morally gray or just a complex character.

So, I thought all of Rhysand’s actions were quite easily explained by his absolute hatred of society, so to speak, of the "big world". He has cute little Velaris, and it's easier for him to turn away from ugliness of Illyria and the CoN and say "changes takes time" than to put the effort into changing it. He doesn't want any connections with other High Lords, fairy's lands, people - with anyone except those carefully chosen into his circle.

No, he's not an introvert or a sociophobe. Just a pathetic, immature boy. He's trying to seem like an adult and that's why it looks so funny. And his circle is exactly the same:

- Cassian is a capricious fool who is "hurt" by a broken, depressed woman

- Azriel is withdrawn and quiet, like an ideal victim for manipulation, although he pretends to be a manipulator

- Mor is a typical girly girl, so obsessed with herself that she says in the CoN she is only good one, Illyria should be burned, everyone around is bad, and they are "dreamers"

- Amren is a parody of ancient creature, I don’t even have anything to say about her, she’s so empty, and after turning into High Fae she just fucks with Varian and despises Nesta, very "wise".

And our little star Feyre fits perfectly into this kindergarten and for Rhysand - she's a victim of "evil" sisters, poverty and abuse from a truly mature partner with adult responsibilities and adult problems. It's not a matter of age; in terms of awareness, I put Nesta next to Tamlin.

(we can say the concept of "fairy" is about eternal childhood, naughtiness and touchiness. Not in this case, guys. Not in a book where "wingspan" is discussed)

So, I like to think Rhysand and his family are just a bunch of kids playing their game. But then you remember how Feyre robbed Tarquin and destroyed the Spring Court, and Rhysand terrorized the country for 50 years, killing his own people as well...

But children can be cruel, right?

[luvfae]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a female reader x Thanos.

What about reader and thanos we’re close before the games both harbouring feelings maybe, but they both have mental health struggles and she is someone who dose things with out thinking of the consequences because she doesn’t care so anyway when they find each other in the games thanos is aware of her tendencies and is like kind of babysitting her.

Like in the first game she makes zero move once she finds out you die and he literally drags her across, and maybe the second game she is always his first choice but she just lays there depressed and cynical and makes sarcastic comments while him and nah gy go around finding team mates or in mingle she makes no move but ofc he always saves her ass, until one night he gives her a rude awakening a harsh pep talk feeling confessing etc. u can put your own spin on it ofc ofc!!

I DON’T CARE

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: swearing, mention of drugs and alcohol, mental health issues, death, blood, typical squid game stuff

You and Thanos had always been a little fucked up.

That’s what made you close.

You met him at a party two years ago—one of those loud, suffocating nights where everyone was either high, drunk, or trying to be. He was leaning against a balcony, smoking, watching the chaos unfold like it was a movie he’d seen a hundred times before.

You had walked up, grabbed the cigarette from his lips, and took a drag without asking.

He had let you.

“You look like you want to jump,” you had said, staring down at the city lights.

He had snorted. “You look like you wouldn’t care if I did.”

That was the start of it.

You weren’t exactly good for each other, but you understood each other. The reckless, self-destructive tendencies. The numbness that came in waves. You never had to explain why you did the things you did—skipping work for days at a time, getting blackout drunk just to feel something, making choices that could ruin you without thinking twice. Because he got it.

And maybe that was why, despite all the tension, all the times you nearly crossed the line from friends to something else, you never did. Because you knew the second you let him have you, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

Then he disappeared.

You heard the rumors—he got into drugs, got into trouble, owed money to the wrong people. You had reached out once, maybe twice, but you never pushed. And eventually, you stopped trying.

Until now.

Until you saw him again.

Your head was pounding. Your body ached. You barely remembered how you got here, only that you had woken up in this fucking tracksuit with the number 067 on your chest and some masked freak telling you to follow the others.

And then—

“No fucking way.”

Your stomach twisted at the sound of his voice.

You turned.

And there he was.

Thanos.

He looked like hell—bruised knuckles, tired eyes, the same cocky smirk that always made you want to punch him in the face.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over you, as if making sure you were real.

You swallowed. “Yeah. Same.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then he snorted. “I should’ve known you’d end up in some fucked-up shit like this.”

You crossed your arms. “Takes one to know one.”

He huffed a laugh, but there was something behind it. Something tight. Something that made your chest ache.

“How bad?” you asked, voice quieter.

His jaw tensed. “Bad.”

You nodded.

He nodded back.

You didn’t need to say more.

Because he knew what you were asking. And you knew what he wasn’t saying.

And when the sirens blared, when you were herded outside for the first game, when the blood started spilling and the bodies started dropping, you froze.

Gunshots rang out. Bodies collapsed. Screams filled the air, and yet you just stood there, frozen.

You weren’t scared. No, fear would mean you actually cared about living. You simply didn’t see the point. What was the point?

You stood there, staring at the massive doll, blinking slowly as the words “Green Light” echoed in the cold air.

Around you, people were rushing forward, sprinting, their eyes wide with desperation. The tension was palpable, the sound of rapid heartbeats almost deafening as they tried to make it to the end before the next “Red Light.”

You weren’t scared. You weren’t anything. Just numb.

You could hear it—the gasps of fear, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, and then—gunshots.

Someone screamed.

But still, you didn’t move.

The moment it hit you, like a wave crashing over a brittle shore, was that you weren’t just standing still because you were numb. You were standing still because it didn’t matter. If you died here, it wouldn’t matter. If you made it out, what would it change?

Nothing. Everything was pointless.

And that’s when you felt it—Thanos’s hand, strong and relentless, grabbing your wrist, yanking you forward.

“The fuck are you doing?” His voice was a low hiss, filled with fury, but his grip on you didn’t loosen.

Your feet stumbled as you were dragged, fighting for balance. Your mind was foggy, distant, numb to the fear that gripped everyone else. The bloodshed, the screams, the flashing lights—it was like you were standing outside of it all, watching it happen to someone else.

“Move!” Thanos barked, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tried to jerk away, feeling the weight of his grip only tightening.

“I—” You blinked, but your voice felt hollow. “I don’t care.”

The next whistle blew.

Your body jerked with the momentum of his tug, and for a moment, you didn’t feel the ground under your feet. Thanos’s arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you, pulling you through the crowd of bodies that were tumbling and falling like leaves in a storm.

Gunshots rang out in the background. You could see it now—people, falling. Bodies collapsing like ragdolls.

But you didn’t care.

“You wanna die?” Thanos’s voice was harsh, just an inch from your ear, filled with raw anger.

You blinked slowly. “I don’t care,” you repeated, though the words felt strange in your mouth. Almost like a lie you’d told yourself for so long that you’d forgotten what it really meant.

Thanos’s grip tightened. He wasn’t listening, not to your words. He wasn’t letting you slip into that void again. His eyes were wide, jaw clenched, the muscle in his neck pulsing with barely contained frustration. The whistle blew again.

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, lifting you off your feet entirely now, dragging you forward like you weighed nothing.

He didn’t give you a choice. He didn’t care that you didn’t care. He was going to keep you alive, even if it meant forcing you to fight against the numbness that consumed you.

By the time the countdown ended, you were nearly at the finish line. Your heart thudded in your chest—not from fear, not from adrenaline, but because of the strange, foreign sensation of being pulled back from the edge.

Thanos pushed you across the line. He was breathless, chest heaving from the physical strain of pulling you. His grip on your waist loosened only when the game ended, and the crowd’s screams faded.

When it was over, when the air cleared, you leaned back against the cold wall, your body sliding down to the ground, exhaustion settling in.

Thanos stood there, staring at you, chest heaving in rhythm with yours. His eyes narrowed with something dangerous, something you hadn’t seen before. Something deeper than anger.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he spat, but it lacked the usual humor.

You didn’t answer. You just sat there, staring at the floor. The adrenaline was leaving your system, and all you had left was the heaviness of everything—the gunshots, the blood, the screams.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

Thanos crouched in front of you, eyes intense, searching your face for something he didn’t know how to find. Something that he needed to fix.

“No,” he snapped, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “We’re not doing this. Not anymore.”

His fingers dug into your skin, the intensity in his gaze so powerful that you couldn’t look away, even though part of you wanted to. His voice softened, but there was no less fire in it. “I won’t let you throw yourself away.”

Your chest tightened. Something deep inside of you stirred, but it was fleeting. You felt vulnerable, stripped bare in front of him.

“I won’t let you die,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his thumb gently brushing over your skin like it could erase everything you were running from.

You felt the ache in your chest then, the crack that began to form from the pressure of his words. The weight of his care.

And for a second, just a second, it felt like you were actually seen.

—

The next day when the guards announced the next game, you didn’t bother to move. You just sat there, your arms resting on your knees, watching the other players scramble to form teams, trying to sort out the chaos of who was going to be their partner. You could hear the shuffling of feet, the anxious whispers, the desperation in every movement. But none of it touched you. You were past it.

“Get up.”

Thanos’s voice cut through the haze of indifference surrounding you. He was standing over you, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you tilted your head back, staring at the high ceiling above, your mind drifting. He could wait.

“I’m not asking, sweetheart.” His voice was firm now, sharp like a warning. “Get up.”

You sighed, the weight of the world pressing on your chest. This wasn’t even the worst of it. You glanced at him briefly, and for a second, something flickered in your chest—a feeling, a pulse of something that made you almost want to smile. Almost.

You dragged yourself up from the floor with exaggerated slowness, not bothering to hide the way your limbs felt heavy, as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore. The sound of the other players forming teams, their voices blending into the background, became distant.

Thanos didn’t wait for you to make a move. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, pulling you with him toward the group that was gathering to select their partners.

“You’re with me,” he said, without asking, without giving you any say in it. His words weren’t a request—they were a demand.

You raised an eyebrow, raising your free hand to smooth your hair back. “Thanos, you need five people, not just one. Go find your three others.”

He didn’t even look at you as he grunted. “Get up. We’re doing this.”

You weren’t sure why it annoyed you. Maybe it was the way he thought he could just make decisions for you like that, or maybe it was the fact that you didn’t want to give a shit about anything anymore. But instead of arguing, you flopped back against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. “You’re so bossy.”

“I swear, if you don’t—”

“You’ll what?” you asked lazily, watching the other players scramble like rats. “Let me die?”

He stared at you, jaw clenched, clearly fighting the urge to snap at you. You saw the anger flaring in his eyes, the protective instinct swirling beneath the surface. But he said nothing. He didn’t yell at you. He just turned and walked away, a look of frustration flashing across his face.

It was strange. Normally, you’d see that and feel some sick satisfaction. But today, it left you empty, like the familiar edge of tension between you and him had dulled.

After a few moments, he came back. You didn’t look up from where you were sprawled on the floor, your legs stretched out in front of you.

Thanos took the spot next to you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, silent, his eyes scanning the group. You could tell he was waiting for you to make a move, to show some sign that you were still capable of caring about something.

But you didn’t. You didn’t move.

And maybe that was why, when he spoke again, his voice was softer, quieter. “Come on. We’ve got to find one more person.”

You didn’t answer him. You just kept staring ahead, your eyes unfocused.

Thanos cursed under his breath. “Fine. Stay here. I don’t give a shit. But we’re playing this fucking game.”

When you didn’t react, he stood up, dragging a reluctant Nam-Gyu over to form the rest of the team. You could hear them talking quietly for a moment, but it barely registered in your head.

You hadn’t realized how much it hurt, how much the detachment had taken a toll on you, until you felt him next to you again, the weight of his presence a reminder that something—someone—still cared.

It was just a fleeting moment, but it stung.

“You with me or what?”

You finally looked up at him. The frustration in his eyes hadn’t faded, but there was something else there, something deeper, almost like he was begging you to show up.

You stood without a word, dusting yourself off as you followed him to the designated area.

Thanos didn’t say anything else as the game began. He just watched you, his eyes never leaving you as you moved through the tasks. His hands were steady, precise, but every time you stumbled, he was there to catch you. His grip on your arm was always firm, as if he were trying to anchor you to this world, to this moment where you were still alive.

Every time you fell behind, he didn’t yell. He didn’t berate you. He just pulled you up and kept you going.

And for the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel like you were fighting the game. You weren’t fighting him either.

You were fighting with him.

And as the game stretched on, the realization hit you: this wasn’t just about survival anymore. Thanos wasn’t just keeping you alive because of some unspoken duty or because he had no other choice.

He was doing it because he wanted to.

You couldn’t quite understand it, but you didn’t mind it. Not anymore.

—

The next game felt like a cruel joke.

You stood at the edge of the group, your mind numb to the urgency that seemed to swallow the others whole. The guards had explained the rules—nothing complicated, just survival—yet your body remained unmoving, despite the chaos unfolding around you.

Most of the players immediately scrambled, eyes wide, feet shuffling as they sought safety. You could hear the hurried breaths of your fellow players, the scrape of shoes against the concrete floor, the soft sounds of bodies rushing and tumbling in all directions. Yet, you just… didn’t care.

Everyone else seemed like they were fighting for their lives, but you?

You were waiting for it all to end.

And then, just like that, you felt the heat of a body next to yours. His scent—leather, sweat, something familiar—struck you before you even saw him.

“Nope,” Thanos muttered under his breath as his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist before you could even process what was happening.

You blinked, the numbness in your mind finally starting to fade as he yanked you toward him, pulling you into his space like he’d done countless times before. “Not today,” he said firmly, his voice low with that undercurrent of protectiveness that you had come to know so well.

You didn’t fight him. Not this time. His grip was strong, secure, and for once, you allowed yourself to lean into it. You didn’t want to make the effort to run or find a spot of safety. So you didn’t.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you muttered, looking up at him, your voice quieter than you intended.

Thanos glanced down at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yes, I fucking did,” he replied, his tone hard, his grip never faltering.

You stayed quiet as he pulled you into an empty room, positioning you closer to the wall, where the guards couldn’t reach as easily if for some reason they decided to kill you. But it was more than that—he was keeping you close, making sure no one else could get too near, too close.

You hated how much it comforted you.

The minutes ticked by, the guards’ voices harsh in the background, and still, you stood there, pressed against him. His body was warm, solid, like a shield. You didn’t think about how strange it felt to have him act like this—to be the one protecting you. No, you just let him, because for once, it felt like you had a reason to stay.

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but it was enough for the panic to begin to settle. Enough for you to breathe again. You weren’t entirely safe, not yet. But for the first time in days, you weren’t just surviving; you were simply existing.

And it felt like an eternity before the sirens sounded, signaling the end of the game. The crowd around you began to move, restless and relieved.

Thanos released his hold on you just slightly, but he didn’t step away. His fingers lingered for a moment before dropping to his side.

“Think you can make it on your own?” His voice was quieter now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, suddenly aware of how close the two of you still were, the heat between you both suddenly charging the air in a way that made your chest tighten.

“Maybe,” you muttered, looking away. “But you’re not exactly a bad guy to have around.”

Thanos snorted, a dark humor creeping into his voice. “Don’t get used to it.”

But you could feel his eyes on you, and despite everything—despite the absurdity of it all—you felt something inside shift. The games weren’t over, but something between you and Thanos had already changed.

And you weren’t sure if you could go back.

—

That night, Thanos snapped.

“I can’t keep babysitting you,” he growled, pacing in front of you.

You sat on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees, staring ahead blankly. “I never asked you to.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Then what, I should’ve let you fucking die?”

You didn’t answer.

That only pissed him off more.

“You act like nothing matters. Like you don’t give a shit if you live or die. But guess what, sweetheart?” He crouched in front of you, gripping your chin, forcing your eyes on him.

“I give a shit.”

Your breath caught.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck happened to you. I don’t know why you’re like this. But you do not get to throw yourself away.” His voice dropped lower. “Not when I—”

His grip faltered. His expression twisted.

Not when I care about you.

The words never came, but you felt them.

Something deep inside you cracked.

You swallowed hard. Your throat burned. Your chest ached. The weight of his words, of everything you’d been avoiding, came crashing down on you all at once.

For the first time in days, you felt something.

And you weren’t sure if that terrified you more than the games themselves.

But one thing was clear.

For Thanos, you’d try.

Even if you didn’t know how.

Something had changed.

It was subtle, but it was there.

Thanos didn’t say anything after that night—no more lectures, no more scolding. He just sat with you in the dark, his shoulder pressed against yours, and let the silence stretch between you.

But you could feel it. The weight of his words. The rawness in his voice when he said, I give a shit.

And maybe, just maybe, you had started to give a shit too.

Because the next morning, when the guards announced the next game, you didn’t drag your feet. You stood up. You followed. You let Thanos find you in the crowd without him having to pull you by the wrist.

You saw the way he looked at you—like he noticed the change, like he was waiting for you to slip back into that numb, hollow state again.

You didn’t.

Not yet.

[lifeasadorkwithnolife]

Monster (Azriel X Reader)

Word Count: 4700

Summary: Everyone thinks that Y/N is a horrible person for what she did under the mountain, and she agrees, but Azriel realizes that things aren't what they seem.

I have not wrote any fanfiction in 5 years, which is absolutely crazy. I've been talking to my boyfriend a lot about story ideas and he asked me, why don't you just write it down? So here it is, it's not exactly what I used to write.

---------------------

You had hoped you would die under the caldron-forsaken mountain. The 49 years have cost you everything: your family, your court and your humanity. Amarantha had chosen you to be her right hand, you had no one to lose and everything to gain. You became known as Amarantha’s bitch, arguably a worse title than Rhysand’s. Your job was to keep discipline under the mountain and frequently had to whip and grant Amarantha’s wishes of public torture sessions when the Attor was not around.

Your reputation had made it outside of the mountain and throughout the courts, you were known to be ruthless and would kill without hesitation. You were an absolute monster.

Before Feyre had come along and saved you all from the mountain, the only one who understood your pain was Rhysand. For the first few years of your position, Rhysand would look at you with hatred in his eyes. He tortured people too, but you knew he didn’t enjoy it in the same way you pretended to. Every time you tortured the poor soul who got on Amarantha’s nerves, you would go up to them after the fact and hold their hand and ask if they had learned their lesson.

You had a gift and a curse, your gift was the ability to absorb pain from someone else, but the curse was that pain demanded to be felt eventually. Every whipping, every burn, or every cut that you performed, you took it from them to feel later. You kept this secret to yourself originally, but it’s quite hard to hide things from Rhysand.

On one unfortunate night, he entered your chambers under the mountain and witnessed the blood beginning to pool on your back. “Someone give you a taste of your own medicine?” He smirked, leaning against the door frame.

“Get the fuck out, Rhysand.” You croaked, mouth dry as you felt another blow to your back from the whipping earlier. “If I wanted to sleep with someone, it wouldn’t be Amarantha’s seconds.” You could feel the walls you built to protect yourself from Rhysand crumbling, like they were nothing but paper, and his eyes grew in realization.

He walked over to you and placed your face in his hands, his eyes growing wide with understanding. “You don’t have to bear their pain alone, Y/N.” He whispered, but you shook your head.

“Please go away.” You whispered, tears filling your eyes. Nobody had ever seen you like this under the mountain, “I can handle it, really.”

You felt the next blow and cried out, Rhysand caught you in his arms and held you. You felt him in your mind, and then your physical pain was gone, and it was just you both in your head. He was right there, in front of you, and all you could do was sigh. “I can explain.”

“Are you…. Are you taking their pain?” He whispered, and you nodded. “Why?”

“We’re all trapped here.” You replied, your voice echoing across the black void. “Someone will hurt them either way, at least if I hurt them… I can take their pain away and they can pass peacefully.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Rhys asked, and you shrugged. “I could have helped you, we’re on the same side.”

“It’s my pain to bear, I wouldn’t have agreed to this job if I couldn’t take their pain away.” You whispered back, he nodded in understanding.

From then on, you had one friend under the mountain, and when Feyre became part of the picture, you had two.

----------------------

               When Feyre won the trials and you were released from the mountain, you realized that you had nowhere to go. Your court has disowned you and your family was…gone. Rhysand invited you back to Velaris to the dismay of his inner circle, and he agreed that your gift would remain a secret until you were ready.

               You trained as hard as you could and tried your best time and time again to win over the inner circle. You promised yourself you would tell them about your gift eventually but couldn’t bring yourself to do it, feeling like you would be using it as an “excuse” to torture others and end all the lives you did, when it was really inexcusable.

               The member of the inner circle that hated you the most was Azriel, he would immediately leave any room you entered, refuse to go on missions with you and would even stop training as soon as you were in earshot. You could sense him staring at you from afar sometimes, and whenever you would look it would be anger, hatred and maybe a little confusion in his eyes.

               You tried your best to make friends with everyone, but it’s hard to be friends with a sadistic murderer who laughed as they were killing the weak and defenseless. The only people who gave you a chance were Cassian and Feyre, and you couldn’t be more appreciative.

               One night, during one of your nightmares, you awoke to large hands shaking you awake and came face to face with Cassian. He looked at you in concern and placed a hand around your head in a brotherly, comforting way. Tears flowed down your face. “You were shouting your own name, what were you dreaming about?”

               “Cassian, do you think I can be forgiven for what I’ve done?” You whispered, looking up at him. He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I need to tell you the truth.”

               Cassian was the first person you willingly told your story to, and he looked absolutely horrified. You showed him the scars on your back and told him about the worst things you have ever done. He comforted you for hours, and in return told you his stories about how he’s killed and how guilty he feels about it sometimes.

               It was nice having Cassian after that point, you two would spar, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to throw a punch when he was open. His laughter was a wonderful sound, and he would often catch you staring at Azriel- longing for his forgiveness but knowing that would most likely never happen. You knew he didn’t trust you, and you don’t think he ever would.

               ---------------------------

                “I need you two to go on a mission together.” Rhys explains, looking between you and Azriel. “I don’t care about how much you don’t like each other; this needs to be done. The attor was sighted on our border, and I need him found.”

               You took a quick look at Azriel before turning away, his hands were clenched into fists, and his shadows were swarming around angrily. “I can go by myself just fine.” Azriel snapped, “She’ll just slow me down and you know it.”

               “I need you BOTH to go, which is why Y/N is here.” Rhysand clasped his hands together, looking at you expectantly. “I think she will be helpful in this mission, since the attor is involved.”

               “I am familiar with the attor.” You sighed, peeking over at Azriel. “I may be able to lure him out.”

               “I bet he’s very fond of you,” Azriel turned to look at you, “I bet you killed more people than he did, did you guys keep count like a competition?”

               You stepped back, you had barely spoken to Azriel, but these were his first words with you. Every reassurance that Cassian, Feyre and Rhys had ever provided seemed to disappear.

               “I just don’t understand Rhys, why is she here? The rest of us have killed, sure, but for good reason. She is a monster.” Azriel’s shadows circled the room, and you could feel the hatred coming off him in waves.

               ‘You’re not going to defend yourself?’ Rhys asked you, and you gave your head a slight shake.

               “This is the last I’m hearing of it, Azriel, you better bring her back here in one piece or so help me.”

               After 3 cold days of searching for the Attor, he was nowhere to be found, and Azriel’s snide comments were getting on your nerves. The flight back to Velaris was cold and silent.

               “Hey, I’m sorry that we came all this way and didn’t catch him.” You whispered, staring down at the darkening landscape.

               “I just hoped that you would be useful for something.” He replied, not even looking in your direction. You sighed, your heart plummeting to your stomach. You had hoped, on some deluded level, that this trip would allow you to talk to him and explain yourself and maybe- just maybe- he wouldn’t hate you so much anymore.

               “I just wanted to say sorry- not just for the attor but for everything.” He looked down at you, and you couldn’t tell what expression was on his face. “I’m just- I’m trying to be better than I was under the mountain, the person I was then is not me. I hope you can believe that.”

               He nodded, looking back up at the setting sun. “I believe that you want to be better.” He said solemnly, “But if what everyone is saying is true, then there is no hope for you. You will never change, even if Rhysand and Cassian don’t see it yet.”  

               You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod, you felt the cold tears sting your eyes but tried to blink them away before they could fall. Azriel saw you for who you really were, the murderer. At least he won’t lie to you like everyone else has.

               The silence ticked by when all the sudden, an arrow flew by your head and hit Azriels wing with a sharp crack. He grunted in pain and dropped a couple feet; another 2 arrows swished by and tore through his other wing. “Azriel- land!” You shouted, searching the darkened forest floor for any sign of the attackers.

               “No shit Y/N.” Azriel shouted, his wings pumping as the ground came in closer. You felt Azriel turn to the side as another arrow whizzed towards your head, but he took another arrow to the wing. Did he just…protect you? You two landed on the ground in a heap, but you stood up quickly, knife in hand as you searched the darkness for your attackers.

               You feel a presence behind you, and turn around, quickly taking the archer to the ground and holding your knife to his neck. He was older, with pointed ears and white hair. He barred his teeth angrily, but with your knees holding down his arms and knife against his neck, he was stuck.

               “Why are you attacking us?” You seethed, your knife getting dangerously close to his neck. He struggled.

               “They told us you would be passing through- you killed my whole family you bitch!” he shouted, you froze, “Just kill me! Like you did to all of them!” You stood there in silence, hesitating, trying to remember who it was that you killed. You couldn’t kill this man too, you promised you would never hurt anyone again.

               Suddenly you were under him, his knife starting to slide across your neck. You didn’t even raise your hands to defend yourself, you could see the pain of his loss clearly on his face. You nodded, closing your eyes as you waited for him to finish. You remembered Azriel’s words from earlier, he was right after all, there would be no redemption either way.

               You felt the weight lift from your throat and took a deep breath, opening your eyes and seeing Azriel’s angry from holding up the man. Azriel looked absolutely terrifying in that moment. “No, don’t hurt him- “You started, but Azriel had his knife out and slashed his neck, throwing his body to the ground. You cried out, crawling over to the males bloodied form. His eyes frantically looked around, and you grabbed his hand, but there was no usual tug, no usual surge of power as you took his pain, you looked up again and met with lifeless eyes. The male was already gone.

               “Did you…did you know him?” Azriel spat out, grabbing you angrily by your arm and pulling you up. “He shot me out of the sky and just had a knife to your neck, and now you’re crying over him?”

               “of course I didn’t know him!” You pushed back at Azriel, looking down at the male who was dead. “I just…. I just….” You felt a wave of nausea roll through you and turned so you could dry heave. Another death, because of you, again.

               “You just what Y/N?” Azriel barked, and you flinched from him. “Tell me what is going on.”

               “He’s dead!” You whispered. Azriel looked astounded, looking at the man then at you. He then laughed. “Why are you laughing?”

               “Give me a fucking break, Y/N. Lets go.” He grabbed your arm, pulling you with him.

               You two wandered until you found a cabin, the candles were still burning when you arrived and there was a fire going in the fireplace. You were becoming more worried about Azriel by the minute, his skin was losing it’s color and he was almost limping as he walked. As soon as you both entered the cabin, he sat down in a chair and started removing his leathers.

               “Azriel- are you alright?”

               “I’m fine, I just need to get this arrow out of my wing.” He muttered, looking at you.  You watched him as he reached behind him, failing to get a good grip on it. “Would you mind?”

               “I can help.” You whispered, coming up behind him and looking at his wing. His wings were beautiful, dark and somewhat translucent, you had never been this close to him before. You could see an oddish green color seeping from one of the wounds and your heart dropped, poison.

               You slowly touched the area around the protruding arrow, he tensed up. Your fingers lightly traced the area around it, trying to figure out if pulling it out was the best option or if keeping it in to stop the blood flow would be better. Removing it would probably be best, since it was poisoned.

               “Azriel, I’m going to remove it now, okay?” You said quietly, bracing your hands on the arrow. This would hurt like a bitch, but only for a second. You pulled, wincing as the wing membrane tore open a little more. Azriel grunted. “I’m so sorry, but it should start to feel better now, okay? Let me go outside so we can ice it.”

               “No- don’t go.” Azriel looked back at you, his expression a little less guarded. “There could be more of them out there- it’s unsafe.”

               “I’ll be okay, we really need to keep an eye on this for a little bit.” You reassured him and walked out of the warm cabin and into the harsh cold. You grabbed as much snow as you could fit in your sack and came back in just a few minutes later, as soon as you walked in Azriel seemed to slump in relief.

               “How are you feeling?” You asked him, noting that his complexion had looked possibly worse than before.

               “I’m feeling okay.” He looked at you, his eyebrows scrunching, then a small smile came to his lips. You stopped in your tracks, if Azriel was smiling at you, there definitely was something wrong. “I feel a little funny….I think there was something in those arrows.”

               You nodded, coming over and handing the cold pack to him. He nodded and placed it against his wing, wincing at the cold. “You really confuse me, Y/N.” He admitted, his shadows seemed as lethargic as him as they swirled around you. “I can’t figure out who you are- I just see so many different things and it’s not adding up.

               “Who do you see?” You whispered, and he shook his head, somewhat confused. “You can tell me.”

               “You act like you are kind, and at first I thought it was for show, but you seem to be kind even when nobody knows it’s you.” He explains, his voice somewhat slurring. “You pay attention, you leave out books you know Feyre will like, you leave out Mor’s favorite snacks when she doesn’t even like you.”

               “And I’ve watched you train with Cassian; you refuse to throw a punch even when he’s wide open. Even- even with that guy outside who was going to kill you- you refused to hurt him, and you cried when he died.” Azriel looked at you, without hatred, for the first time. “How can someone who killed so many people, who tortured others and laughed as their families mourn, cry over a stranger? There is something you’re not telling me. Rhys and Cassian can see it, what are you not telling me? I want so badly to be on your side, please, tell me, who are you? ”

               You felt tears fall down your face, because he’s only saying this because he was drugged. “Azriel, I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again.” You whispered, “I’m different than I was under the mountain.”

               Azriel nodded, head leaning back as he winced in pain. You grabbed his hand, not asking for permission, and pulled away his pain. You thought of your family, your last memories with them. Your mother, father and two brothers sitting at the table. Your brothers throwing food at each other whenever your parents weren’t looking, trying to get it into each other’s mouths, and trying to hide your laughter so your parents wouldn’t notice. You could feel him sigh in relief and fall unconscious. You sighed in relief, playing the memory again in your head, missing who you were 50 years ago.

               You woke up with a gasp, the pain from Azriel’s injuries tearing through your back. How did he deal with this much pain without even showing it? You snuck outside past Azriel’s sleeping form, and grabbed some snow into the pack that you had used for Azriel, hoping the cold would help your back.

               After shoveling some of the snow into the pack, you felt a presence behind you and looked up, seeing Azriel in the doorway. “Are you feeling bet-“

               “What did you do to me?” Azriel growled, walking down the three steps to confront you in the snow. “Who were those people? What did you do?”

               “You were poisoned Azriel, I just…I gave you some snow to cool you down and tried to get rid of the infection.” You looked up at him, trying to find the man who you had spoken to so truthfully a few hours before. “You were a little confused, which is expected.”

               He shook his head, “who was that family? Is that another family you killed?” he spat, and you froze in place. You didn’t realize that you had shown him that. “Forgot I asked. Don’t ever touch me again. Get back in here so I don’t have to protect your ass if someone else comes around to kill us.”

               You nodded, leaving the pack in the snow and making your way back up to the cabin. You could feel the chills start but could feel how physically hot your body felt. You laid down on the floor, where you were previously right next to the fire. Azriel stood next to the door, watching you intently like you might try to run away.  

               “Are you alright? You’re shaking.” Azriel stated, and you nodded. He walked over to you, hesitating then placing his hand on your forehead for a brief second. “Y/N, you’re burning up. We need to take off some of these layers.”

               You couldn’t find it in yourself to argue as Azriel ripped off your leathers, freezing at what he saw. He turned you over, but you were pale and nearly unconscious. You could hazily see a hint of worry on his face as you passed out.

The flight back was torturous, the pain had started shortly after you woke up, and with each pound of Azriel’s wings another wave of pain went through you. You noticed that for the first time, you were warm and Azriel kept you close to his chest. You could feel how slow your heart rate was, and the growing pain made your realize that maybe this trip would be the end for you.

“Hey Azzie” You whispered, looking up at him. He was truly so beautiful, especially with he early morning sunrise reflecting off his features and the small beads of sweat. “Are you hurting at all?”

“No Y/N, I’m fine.” He stated, looking down at you confused. “Azzie? Where is this coming from?”

“I think Azzie would be a fun nickname.” You laughed before groaning in pain. “I just wanted to tell you something really important.”

“And what is that?” He looked down at you, if you looked like how you felt, then you could understand the growing concern in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? We could have left last night.”

“I don’t want to argue, please.” You whispered, trying to get closer to him. You felt cold and hot at the same time. “Those people I showed you- I did kill them in a way.” His arms stiffened but you continued. “That was my last good memory before I…. became a murderer. I didn’t protect them, I left and they came and attacked and I was the only one brought under the mountain.” The pain in your chest matched the pain in your back. “I couldn’t take away their pain, I couldn’t hold them as they died, I will never forgive myself.”

“You can’t save everyone,” Azriel whispered, you sighed and closed your eyes again, listening to the thumping of his wings. “Why didn’t you just use the antidote on yourself too, I could have handled it.”

“I can’t use it on me.” You whispered, before falling back unconscious.    

---------------------------

               “I need help in here!” Azriel’s voice boomed, causing you to stir and groan from your position in his arms. “Rhysand!”

               You heard thumping and were placed on a soft surface; you felt a warm hand against your cheek and found yourself leaning into it. Then the pain started, and you felt yourself writhe as the poison worked its way through your back.

               “I’m not sure what happened, one minute she was fine.” You heard Azriel say in a panicked voice, “then she’s shaking from the cold, no matter how hot I turned up the fire. She has a fever, and her skin is cold to the touch. She has been delirious for the past two hours of the flight, talking about forgiveness and you and Cassian knowing the truth. What is going on Rhys?”

               You could feel a set of hands on your back and you screamed in pain as they tried to flip you over. “Don’t do that! You’re hurting her!” You heard a voice yell, and you tried to keep your mouth shut to prevent any more noises from escaping.             

               “High lord, I’m going to need to him out of here if he can’t control himself.” You heard the women say, you recognized her voice, was that the healer?

               “Azriel, what else happened?” Rhys voice asked, you realized that you couldn’t open your eyes, but you weren’t in as much pain, Rhys must be doing something to you.  

               “We were attacked on the way back; I took three arrows to the wing but she didn’t say anything. Hell, I didn’t even see an arrow go towards her.” You could hear, maybe it was worry, in his voice. “Then she healed me somehow, but she didn’t heal herself. She couldn’t tell me why.” You felt a hand grab yours, and from the ridges of skin there could tell it was Azriel.

               “Please, help her.” You heard him whisper.

               “Madja, Y/N an absorber healer, she’s been poisoned.” Rhys instructs; you hear a gasp from the healer.

               “By the cauldrons, I have never met one before, they are so rare.” You hear her say.

               Despite Rhys’s efforts, you feel another wave of pain shoot down your back, but you keep your mouth closed to avoid screaming. “Azriel- get out.” Rhys shouted, and you tried to shake your head in objection. You need Azriel, you gripped his hand tighter, or tried to in your half-conscious state.

               You felt your shirt rip open, and then your hand was released, and steps were taken away from you. “Rhys- what are those- why does she have all those scars on her back?”

               “She can explain when she wakes up.”

               You woke up with a start, a scream on your lips. “Y/N, you’re okay.” A voice said, and you felt two hands rest on your shoulders. You snapped your head to see, Azriel? You looked around, you were in your room, but a chair had been pulled up next to the bed.

               “How long…”

               “3 days.” Azriel stated, settling back down into the chair.

               You nodded, “and…why are you in my room?” You looked around, cautiously looking back at him. He looked…incredulous.

               “Oh I don’t know, maybe I’m just making sure you wake up.” Azriel cocked his head to the side, anger filling his eyes. “Why would you do that Y/N? I would have been perfectly fine, but you almost got yourself killed, you had no right to do that to yourself on my behalf!”

               “It’s not like I can help it!” Your voice was hoarse, and you winced at the scratchiness In your throat. He grabbed a cup of water for you on the nightstand, and you drank almost the whole thing. “Azriel- can I be honest?”

               “Please do, I need a good explanation.” He retorted, sarcasm lacing his tone. His shadows were surrounding you, but seemed almost- relieved.

               “I can’t watch people in pain.” You whispered, “Watching you in pain killed me inside, and even though you hate and can’t stand to be around me, I couldn’t just watch you go through that.”

               “I did hate you.” Azriel says, grabbing your hand. “How else was I supposed to feel? You had killed people I knew, people with families, tortured for fun and acted like you enjoyed it. Hell- I think the whole court hated you.”

               You looked down, nodding, tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

               “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Y/n.” You looked up, locking eyes with Azriel, “I was such an idiot, the signs were there, and you’re a terrible liar. When I saw the scars on your back, I – I lost my shit. Literally. I don’t Madja is going to let me anywhere near the healing quarters anytime soon.”

               “I was just trying to help people the only way I knew how.” You whispered, a tear spilling. He nodded, reaching up and cupping your face.

               “I feel like a monster too, I’ve killed and tortured, but I’ve always done it in the name of our court.” He exhaled shakily, giving you a small smile. “But you are kind, and I have just been so frustrated over the past couple of months because I wanted to hate you so much- but couldn’t bring myself to. Watching you laugh with Cassian and Feyre, I felt so helpless like you could never open up to me like that. I literally couldn’t even be in the same room as you, because I felt so…jealous for no reason.”

               “Rhys- when he told me about us going together, I was angry. Angry that he would put you in danger just for the sake of getting us to get along.” You watched anger fill his eyes, “and he almost got you killed.”

               “I’m okay.” You reassured, smiling through the tears that were still falling.

               “just make me a promise, okay?” Azriel released the grip on your face and grabbed your hand, fiercely. “I never want you to take my pain again, or anyones for that matter, okay? My pain is mine to bear, alone.”

               You nodded, feeling some relief. “Thank you Azriel, I…this means a lot to me. I’ve been wanting to tell you everything for so long.”

               “I want to hear everything,” he squeezed your hand again, and you could feel your heart flutter. “I will never let you get hurt again, and honestly…Azriel is so formal. I’m okay with Azzie….as long as its between us.”

[rizzanon]

I had this for in my head for hours an I have to thank u bc most of the time people don't know about Jason actually waking up and crawling out of his grave, wandering around the goddamn city for weeks before they dumped him into the pit😭 I'm not a deep fan (as I joined the fandom literally last year and couldn't chect out most canon stuff myself) I always thought why do they chose to ignore it when they crave so much angst and just.. Forget about it. It's the perfect angst material because Jason wandered around gotham, in hospitals(I think) calling for Bruce fucking wayne but no one called him and he didn't even know at the time, I think we all know if someone gave in and called Bruce, he'd come over there less then an hour to get his son back.

EXACTLY OMG. i will NOT stop talking about how jason wasn’t revived by the lazarus pit in the comics. originally, at least. the effects of the lazarus pit has not been consistent over the years so i can understand why some people think that the lazarus pit could revive the dead.

because of superboy prime’s punch that altered some parts of reality (honestly even i don’t know how to explain this phenomenon lol 💀💀), jason got revived, and that reality-altering punch caused him to wake up in his grave a few months after his death. jason literally had to DIG HIMSELF out of his grave. this scene will always be so to me because bruce literally installed sensors to alert him when someone broke into the graves, but he didn’t program it to alert him if someone broke out of the graves:

LITERALLY SOBBING 😭 i could talk about this much more but i’m pretty such you guys don’t want another yap session 💀

but to add on about why no one was able to connect jason and bruce together when the people who found him brought him to a hospital to recover, it’s explained in the same comic from the one above so yeahh

[valewritessss]

Finally deleted MyFitnessPal off my phone for my own personal sanity

[esta-elavaris]

Had a moment today that exemplifies how my family thinks but like, in a way that’s just very sad and makes me glad I don’t think that way.

Showed a relative the amazing painting that friend did for me, and her first response was “you’d be able to sell that for some good money!!!”

Like. No????

For months I’ve discussed this creative trade with this friend, we’ve talked about what the other wants, we’ve gotten excited about it and traded progress pics as we work on it for each other, gotten stoked over making plans to get to the post office and seeing the other finally get it, and it’s just been a very wholesome and very fun project. It took six weeks for us to complete these projects, and now I have something on display in my room that makes me very happy, that’s objectively beautiful, and that I know a friend put a lot of effort into making for me and was THRILLED when I adored it.

And my family’s immediate line of thinking is “make a few quid from it lol”.

I can’t imagine the headspace it must take to go through life like that.

[secondpersonpoetry]

hi! oh my goodness. i am SO sorry i didn’t say anything earlier. i did read everything a couple days ago, and i Have been chewing on it, rotating it in my mind, etc etc…..and the graphic has been my phone lockscreen since i first read it!!!!!

frankly i am obsessed and have also been a little frazzled this month lol. saw your post late because of the general whirlwind that is december and then couldn’t quite get my thoughts into sufficient words n got worried “oh no would it be weird to say something now…..” which is incredibly silly in retrospect, so sorry for that. 

i’m relatively new to hockey fandom and the Narratives don’t always quite click for me (yet, at least :)) because i don’t know all of the lore for a lot of the popular pairings haha, so it means a lot that you’ve taken time out of your day to break things down for me and share your own thoughts <3 tysm. again, super sorry for the delayed response. i’m very sorry if you felt as though you’d wasted your time or something along those lines :’) just wanted to let you know that i really appreciate you and the time it took you to get everything down and make the graphic!!!! and like i can’t overstate how much your tags both over here and on your other blog have helped me to Get It since the start of this season, so thank you.

but now the house is quiet, the in-laws are gone, and no new work stuff until january :) so i can finally get some stuff down. every point you brought up hits in it own way but gosh you are very incredibly right the mcstrome of it all…..that’s sort of the lens i’ve been listening to the song through since you mentioned it.

the golden boy and the “draft bust” and the ever present notion of “isn’t it all about old friends? like everything? all of it?”.  like idk looking back on a bestfriendship from when you were a teenager that was Super intense and the lines were blurred and maybe realizing (if you hadn’t had the words or the “guts” or awareness or wtv to put a name to it at that point in your life) that y’all were a smidge more than just friends. 

best friends forever until you just aren’t! growing up and growing apart. it’s just the way things go but it can and will ache for a damn long time! you think you’re over it until their birthday or the holidays roll around and you wonder in a distant sort of way who they’re spending it with. what you would’ve hypothetically gotten them as a present if you still spoke. what do they even like nowadays, anyway?

maybe having the friendship end subtly. going from playing and traveling together and living in one another’s pockets to 2,080 miles of distance? (i may have my timeline/details confused here so sorry in advance) texting as much as you can at first but he’s a phenom he’s mcjesus he’s the next in line he’s expected to win the cup with his new team and end the drought for Canada. and they have him now but he was yours first, wasn’t he? but it’s fine. because you’re busy too. you’re captaining the team now. you’re gonna get the memorial cup that he couldn’t. it’s fine. you’re fine. you don’t even have time to worry about it anyway. 

one conversation a week turns to one a month turns to once in a blue moon turns to stale words until it goes cold. these days you can’t quite seem to remember who ended things, but does it really matter all that much now?

or maybe it doesn’t end like that at all. maybe it ends in a flurry of angry words and digs in some or other of the endless hotel rooms you’ve shared together over the years. who knows!

and that’s not even getting into the rest of the 2015 draft class. or the ld19 of it all! ooh hoo hoo. you grew up with him but he’s not your waiting room. he grew up with you but he’ll grow “old” (end his career) with someone else. and isn’t that just something! 

i don’t think it’s totally them, but sort of the sentiment of “I hope you get everything you ever wanted and I hope I never hear a word about it.” I want one ticket off of your carousel!!!! merry christmas, please don’t call!!!!!!!

dylan being sent up and down and traded around until finally landing in washington, a place where he is clearly at home and LOVED for the guy and player he is!!!!!!!! watching a game and seeing all the strome jerseys in the crowd……..wagh.

all that said. some other songs that are mcstrome to me in various ways: hot & heavy by lucy dacus (lol kinda the whole song). before the world was big by girlpool (“i just miss how it felt standing next to you wearing matching [jerseys? sweaters?] before the world was big”). happiness by Taylor swift (“i guess it’s the price i pay for seven years in heaven”), cut your bangs by radiator hospital (maybe? possibly? unsure. i like the whole dog thing there). i’m so glad i feel this way about you by insignificant other (!!!!!). there are so many THEM lyrics in there……..waough.

anyway. other things off the top of my head: 2015 connor specifically saying something like “hey let’s wait a minute so we can see this” to stand by the stage when dylan was getting drafted after him. MAN. you reminded me of the fact that they couldn’t even make eye contact at the handshake line!!!!!!!!! they didn’t go to each other’s weddings!!!!!!!!!! (do you think once upon a time they ever thought they’d being each other’s best man?). just a couple months ago dylan liking the tweet of connor getting that goal during the playoffs!!!!!!!! makes you wonder if he texted him………..

lol this was all over the place and i was probably wrong on some things and there’s SO much more that someone else could say way more eloquently, but i digress. i dunno everything about them is so nuts to me!!!!! needless to say i will be incredibly sat for the game january 21 🙂‍↕️

thank you again for your time :) hope you have a good one and a happy rest of the holiday season! <3333333

what a lovely message to receive 🥰😭🥹 i had to break it up into chunks because i couldn't sit down to read all of it at once without just. bouncing right back up and shrieking. i am also at heart terribly shy so i understand the struggle but it is never too late to say something <3 you are always welcome here

first!!! i love sharing!! i think most of hockey tumblr loves to see people finding out the Lore for the first time and the wonderful thing about hockey is that. it keeps going on. so there's years and years and generations and generations and always something new to learn about. i've learned to just not be afraid to ask!!! between different teams and players i'm always discovering new narratives (learning about the sharks old man yaoi rn... cbj rarepairs...)

no... to my heart's despair... you have the timeline right. i think in the best most tragic sense there's a mcstrome narrative where it is truly that nothing went wrong. the love was there. we couldn't do enough to save it because we didn't see it slipping away. i didn't notice when you didn't call until you never did. i don't know you now but i still remember when i did, do you?

HE'S NOT YOUR WAITING ROOM?? passing out. i do see "i hope you get everything you ever wanted and i hope i never hear a word about it" as them because!! they didn't go to each other's weddings!!! i don't wish you harm but i'm not going to put myself through that!! i hope you're happy and i'm never going to look on purpose.

i love dylan strome so much and the best part is that they all love him so much too. he wore a cool vintage ovechkin jacket!! and got slapped in the face with a tortilla!! he loves to gently rag on the rookies!! it just takes some time, everything'll be just fine. you're only on the middle of the ride.

OKAY WHEN I READ THIS PART I SCREAMED BECAUSE I DO HAVE A MCSTROME PLAYLIST AND!!!! HOT & HEAVY BY LUCY DACUS IS IN FACT ON IT!!! SO IS CUT YOUR BANGS (BUT BY GIRLPOOL SO DOUBLE JINX)!!!! i have dorothea by taylor swift on there but i don't know happiness so i'll have to give all the other songs a listen. mostly i just shrieked because i was like NO YOU GOT THE VIBES EXACTLY

🧠〰️🧠 truly the mind meld happening here. the handshake line. the mutual wedding non-invitations. i won't block your number or your name on twitter i just hope i don't see it come up on screen!! i do think that we got confirmation the last time they played each other that dylan did text him to say congrats on a milestone but i would have to check the archives

p.s. i think you said it perfectly eloquently :) what matters is that you said it at all and i was delighted to read it 💕

[ceramicbeetle]

sonic and snufkin actually kind of feel like very similar characters to me. holding hands over “my personal sense of freedom and dedication to making decisions based on what I think is right is what matters most, and if you’ve built some idealized version of me in your head then that’s none of my business and it’s not my responsibility if the reality of who i am lets you down in some way”. also the deep connection to nature and all.

[sadgirlautumn]

I’m currently very upset about the American healthcare system. Like I hope they know that they are making people actively sicker 🫶

[j-esbian]

i’m going to throw up

[fingertipsmp3]

No one:

Person writing an introduction for a well-known novel: I am going to spoil the vital plot points and twists of this book for anyone who has not read it

[victory-cookies]

today was fun bc I had to explain concepts to adults that shouldn’t be baffling but clearly were. at work I had to explain nightcore to my coworker which she just could not understand and Does Not like (her son, being a tween, listens to tiktok sped up versions of songs and she was playing them for me and I called it nightcore and she was like “this shit has a name??”) and then later I had to explain both the concept of it/its pronouns and “using they/them for a person that just told you his pronouns are he/it is still misgendering and it’s allowed to be unhappy about it” to my mother. as you can imagine the second one was a less fun convo

[poor-man-s-productions]

Feeling deeply tired of my family hours.

[milo-is-rambling]

Me when I want to be wanted more than anything else