#it took me like 2 weeks to decide fr

[doctorriri]

[dumbhero]

i'm so sick of my doctors it's crazy. i had an abdominal xray to see how my kidney stones were doing (specifically, i wanted a count to see if i had developed more) and they were like ummm they were obscured by bowel gas and also we've decided you're constipated despite the fact you Just said you had a big meal before coming in so we're going to tell you to take miralax every day for literally no reason. great job guys you did it

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Stylist! Reader

Part 2

Warnings: None

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Back with part 2! I'm warning y'all now - it's going to suck until it doesn't. Please bear with me. Also, I have included the links to both the shirts being sold for Gaza and the direct donation link. Please check them out! And if you can't donate yourself, I donate $1 for every watermelon comment under this post! So please make sure to share at the very least.

~~~

Being scolded was the worst feeling in the world. Well, actually, sleeping with a famous client and then having him immediately chase your coworker was the worst feeling in the world. But boy was this meeting with Katerina a close second.

“There needs to be a case study on this kid.” She muttered under hear breath as she moved sticky notes around the December calendar. She darted her eyes around her current configuration, before turning sour and looking up at you. The dark circles under her eyes had darkened a shade since you had seen her the previous week, and a twinge of guilt played against your sternum for contributing to her fatigue.

“Let’s go over some basic rules, my dear. First and foremost, you cannot block your client’s number.”

“But I-“ You began to protest, but your boss lifted one finger, silencing you instantly.

“I do not care. I do not care if he is a dick. I do not care if he is going to make my stylists kill each other. Honestly, that might be a blessing.  I do not care if he is the father to a litter of bastard children running barefoot around your home. You work for SDF. You work for Pedro Gonzalez. He will have access to your phone, your email, your address, hell your underwear size if he asks. Understood?”

You bit back the urge to protest, just nodding silently. She breathed in deeply before continuing.

“Second, you will not share his information with the other girls in the office. That includes his photoshoot timing, the PR being sent to him– anything. I’m tired of having to file reports to Milan about my girls fighting.”

The command was followed by another nod, this one more genuine. You had no intention of getting within 100 meters of either Tania or Sylvia, who were still not speaking but had also telepathically decided that you were a common enemy. You had been stepped on a suspicious number of times while collecting their pins from the floor, and you always caught them whispering to the other girls in the office about “la naranja podrida”. Didn’t take a detective to put those pieces together.

You were still in a state of agitation regarding the whole ordeal. In your fit of anger, you had done the mental calculations of how long it took Pedri to text another girl. He had left just as the sun was rising, so about 5:30 am. Google maps said you lived 25 minutes from the stadium, but he would have gone home first, because that’s where the damned boots and more damned note would have been. That brings us to 6 am to account for wherever the gremlin lives. By all your most optimistic estimates, he had waited at most a hour between leaving your bed and texting your coworker.

“Hey Silvia” was the text heard around the world. After the report (and a few hair samples) was filed away, a company-wide letter from HQ was sent out reminding employees of professional boundaries with clients. The giddiness and satisfaction that had come from a harmless prank had dissolved, leaving a queasy feeling in its wake. Day damn one. You lasted 4 hours before you crumpled like a convenience store receipt over a boy at work. Ignoring every caution sign, you dove head first into a pool of prospective romance - and promptly hit the concrete.

The worst part was that you couldn’t tell anyone. Bryce had responded to your gushing sonnets in the worst possible manner: with logic. You had brushed aside every one of her very appropriate questions, looking through your rose-tinted lenses at your life. You had gone as far as to tell her she was being a bad friend for trying to find any possible negative in this situation, causing her to pull back.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

The words of her static-garbled voice memo never left your head. There you were, only a few hours later, stomach turned and heart shredded, completely and utterly hurt. And you weren’t ready to face the sting of “I told you so” that was waiting for you, so you just… never said anything else. When she asked about Pedri, you responded formally with his upcoming campaign schedule. Lucky for you that she was too busy with her own life to keep pestering.

The upside to the current tragedy in your life was that you were working in fashion. It was hard to cry when you spent hours upon hours looking at some of the most beautiful clothes in the world, getting full creative freedom to bring your visions to life. Not impossible, because there were definitely a couple of wet spots on the Margiela from yesterday, but harder. Barca Femini had been in and out of the office for fittings, and it was a relief to be able to work with something other than khaki trousers and blazers. There were seemingly hundreds of hangers carrying vintage sports pieces, colorful jackets, and silky skirts. It sparked little moments of happiness, knowing that you were so good at playing dress-up that now you were getting paid for it.

It had been a week since your unfortunate altercation, and though the evening (and unfortunate following morning) had never left you, it had seeped from the front of your mind to the base of your skull, a dull throb that could be ignored during the course of the day. That was, of course, until you received an email from Adidas.

~

"Okay, Pedri, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but this means you're blocked."

There was a snigger that floated through the lunch room that, had he been able to pinpoint the source, Pedri would have promptly quieted with a slap to the head. But it whizzed around like a gnat between some of the younger players.

"How could I be blocked, Fermin?" The question was met with a raised eyebrow from Fermin, who was mentally cursing his college education.

"Maybe it has something to do with you sleeping with her and then disappearing?" Gavi offered up that brilliant hypothesis between bites of grilled chicken.

"No, it couldn't be. She's American - they don't take sex so seriously. Besides, we just met! What was I supposed to do? Propose?"

Pedri resisted the urge to shrink back from the judgmental stares he was receiving. He was used to being questioned by Gavi, who believed in the "stare at her intensely until she falls for me and confesses" method of romance. But now that he had roped in Fermin (the most tech-savvy of the squad), he couldn't handle the intensity of the silent disapproval.

In all honesty, Pedri was tired of the emotional rollercoaster that had plagued the entire day. The previous night had been incredible. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when La Naranja stepped through her front door, but she surely exceeded expectations. Pedri believed he was happy in his normal routine: DM an Instagram model, engage in the little cat-and-mouse game where she pretended she wouldn't bend to his every will, and go back to her place for a decently fun time. But there was something about the way you walked, so coy and bashfully, looking up at him through delicate lashes with wide eyes, that warmed the most primal part of his being. His heart quickened at the sudden desire to chase, to capture, to consume. He wanted to protect this pretty little thing from the sharp eyes and sharper teeth of his friends. He was ready to savor everything you offered.

Over the course of the evening, the feeling gnawing at the inside of his chest became harder to ignore. The soft grip you maintained on his bicep to keep him close, the warmth of your fingertips searing his skin. He wanted to bark at Ferran to never look your way again. To sink his teeth into your neck, have you cry out his name so every man would know to never come near you again. Your hand, so delicate and soft in his own, maintained a firm grip as he dragged you out of the club, and a firmer grip on his hair once he was finally able to kiss you senseless. He felt like a wild animal unleashed in bed with, unable to slow or take pause. You were so hypnotizingly innocent, and he was going to destroy that.

The warmth in his chest remained till the following morning. As he kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes, he allowed himself to imagine what kind of arrangement the two of you could have. He was more than eager to feel the caress of your soft lips again. Maybe you would be open to picking up his late night calls, spending long, tedious days together talking and fucking and laughing at nothing in particular. He thought about the flush in your cheeks that would arise whenever he came into work, dropping subtle hints about your activities in the days before. He could really make you a permanent part of his rotation with little difficulty, facilitated further by the fact that you had been assigned as his personal stylist. Filthy as it may sound, he contemplated not showering upon his return home. He would have to later in the day following practice, but until he could secure a second audience with you in a bedroom, he wanted to savor the scent a little longer.

His front doorstep was littered with packages once again, about half from Adidas and the other from Springfield. He was not a designer by any means, but he appreciated that he was at least sent the collections that were meant to be his. Fer was sipping on a coffee when Pedri walked in, and expertly avoided ay questions of where he had been the previous night. He was a concerned older brother, but he was also a guest. He instead asked to see the piles of PR that his younger brother had hauled through the door.

"I don't understand why they bother sending you all this stuff. Why wouldn't they just send it to the styling team."

"Because I actually have to play in the boots, hermano." Pedri said, lifting the lid off his newest pair. He was excited for another Adidas campaign, or any campaign really that would bring him closer to you once again. Oh how he wished he could have captured the way you looked in that dress forever, immortalized it in an oil painting and hung it on his wall (right beside the ripped remains of the dress, which he so desperately wanted to destroy). His daydream had been broken by a crisp white envelope contrasted against the bright orange of the boots. There was a feminine wave of scent in the air, and the heart pumping in his ears drowned out the sounds of his brother’s whistles and taunts. Had you done this? Had you been planning ahead to send him a note had he neglected to ask you out while at the office?

He tensed his forearms to disguise a slight tremble, ripping open the envelope and scanning the page only to find-

“Ay dios mío. Silvia.” He allowed his head to thud against the counter, Fer’s tittering laugh clear as a bell now.

“Is she the scary one or the weird one?” His brother asked, prying the crumpled letter from Pedri’s dejected form.

“Both are fitting adjectives. She’s the shorter one with the silver hair. She kind of looks like our Tia Marisol?”

Another tittering of laugher, and this time Pedri joined in with a cracked smile of his own.

“She wants to tell you how much she admires you, how much you make her … quiver? Ew.” Fer squinted at the note further.

“Listen to this line. Ehem: ‘I am ready to serve you, worship you, give you my body and soul because I love you.”

Pedri groaned so loudly he was sure the neighbors heard. Honestly, what were these girls thinking?? That he would start blushing and giggling at the mention that they would sleep with him? That was the least most girls would do. It turned his stomach, constantly fearing that he would be trapped with a child.

“Let me text this girl. I have to go in next week and I don’t want her bent over a table spread and waiting when I arrive.”

He typed in the number on the note, drafting a long text before deleting everything but the “Hey Silvia” at the top.

“It’s too forceful to say ‘hey I don’t want to fuck you’ right off the bat, no?”

He hit send, reluctantly heading off to shower away his escapades before he went into training, waiting for a reply before he asked not to receive any more erotic letters from his stylists. Oh how he wished she hadn’t.

~

“So run us through it one more time.” Gavi said, Ferran deciding to stifle his groan. The last thing he needed was to enrage Gavi further, as he suspected it would result in him finally getting the punch that was coming to him. Ansu and Fermin were nodding along vigorously, eager to hear all about Pedri’s first experience having feelings.

“We went out, we fucked-“

“Pedri!”

He rolled his eyes at the indignation from the boys. Kids these days.

“Okay. We went out, we had a magical lovemaking experience, and then I had to come to training. I texted her about her being my stylist to ya know break the ice. And I found myself in deep shit and promptly blocked on like everything.”

“I think your first mistake,” said Fermin, “was not texting her about last night. Why would you start with her working for you?"

Pedri dragged his hand down his face in frustration.

"What was I supposed to say? Good morning linda, great pussy last night?"

Gavi stood promptly with his hands up, leaving the room.

"I don't want to hear about another girl's vagina."

"Yes," Ferran muttered, "God forbid he cheat on his crush by listening to a story."

"Whatever happened to 'Hey, I had fun last night'? Is that not a normal thing to say?" Ansu asked, as shaken as Gavi but remaining planted by his desire to be in the loop.

"I think my agent is texting SDF to get her to unblock me. Not super easy to talk to my stylist if I have to do so through messenger pigeon. Where did Gavi go?"

Pedri followed his friend out of the locker room, watching as Gavi stared dejectedly at the Doctora’s office.

“Are you done moping?” Pedri asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“No. She might lose her job and we play her stupid boyfriend’s team tomorrow. I just want to keep her safe from that asshole.”

For a minute, something sparked in Pedri’s chest. Was that jealousy? He had never before felt that there was something missing in his life, content with being surrounded by friends and family and teammates. But there was something about watching Gavi pine, listening to the way he spoke of this girl, and it caused him an ache. He was in awe of this foreign spectacle: loving someone so deeply, so intensely, that it led to begging for crumbs of their time and attention. He almost wished to be in the Doctora's position, always having someone waiting around the corner for him.

"I have a styling meeting today. Do you want to come and keep me company?"

~

"Naranja, the bastard is here."

You didn't even lift your head when Maria informed you of the arrival of your client. You had worn all black to mourn the death of your self esteem, prepared to ass-kiss as much as needed to preserve your job. Unfortunately, it was difficult to push down the burning rage in the pit of your stomach when you had to kiss the ass of the man who has hurt you so intensely.

Pedri strolled into the room clad in the ugliest jeans known to man, his doe-eyed teammate (Gavin?) trailing behind him. At least the littler one knew how to dress. He was in baggy jeans and an Amie Paris t-shirt, clean sneakers in the same shade of blue as his top. Pedri, on the other hand, was an abomination. His black hoodie was far too baggy on his frame, making him look somewhat inflated. It was made worse by the tight and ribbed denim hugging the (admittedly stunning) legs that ended suddenly in some chunky clompers.

"Good morning, Naranja."

God. Even the sound of his voice was like swallowing razor blades. You wished that you could hear the lilt in his speech without remembering the soft whispers against the column of your throat, guiding you to ecstasy at his command. The way that he encouraged you, coaxed the gentle sighs and high moans with just an ask.

"Let me hear you, pretty girl."

And who were you to deny? But now, looking at his soft eyes and confident stance, you wish you had resisted. Pretended you didn't speak Spanish that first godforsaken day in this office.

"Good morning Pedro."

A stifled laugh and wide eyes from the boy behind Pedri (God what was his name? Gustavo?). Pedri's shoulders had dropped significantly, his thick brows coming together in confusion.

"No one calls me Pedro. Not even my mother."

"Well, maybe it's a good time for you to learn what disappointment feels like. Especially since you're so comfortable giving it out to others. Do you have your boots?"

You could tell Pedri was lost for words, and it caused you a mild spark of satisfaction. You had spent the last week boiling silently, unable to unleash all the rage simmering in your chest. He nodded silently, pulling the box out of his bag.

"Great. Gabriel, there is a coffee shop on the second floor if you want to grab a drink while I'm fitting Pedro. I'm sure you've seen him naked plenty of times but-"

"No, no, I'll go. Would you like anything?"

After shaking your head, he exited the room, and you began frantically grabbing different sweat pants and shirts for Pedri to put on.

"His name is Gavi by the way." Pedri said to break the silence, and you turned so he could strip off his shirt.

"Come on, Naranja. Don't pretend you haven't see it already." He smiled somewhat earnestly, softer than he did at the other girls. You were a gentle thing, and he wanted to be gentle with you.

"How many other girls in this office have seen it as well, Pedro?" You asked with as much venom as you could muster, turning to face him and eyes locking as he unzipped his jeans.

"You think that sleeping with me is a company welcome gift, Naranja?"

"That's not my name."

"And Pedro isn't mine. But if you want to poke at me, I'll poke at you right back."

He was now in only his boxers and his socks, and it took everything within you not to glance downwards, a reminder of the sight from one week and one night ago. He took a defiant step forward, the heat radiating off his body.

"You know, Pedro," You began, steadying your voice. "Texting my coworker mere minutes after leaving my bed is a sin on it's own."

"Wait, what? Hold on-"

"But in those mere hours of bliss, I googled you. Looked at your name on Twitter. Saw who you were. And you're just another slimy athlete that uses girls and throws them away."

Your face broke when you heard him laugh loudly at the revelation. It made you angry, expecting him to feel ashamed of his behavior.

"I despise miscommunication, Naranja. So don't go jumping to conclusions and acting foolish. Your coworker sent me a letter essentially begging to fuck me, but I suspect you knew that already. Hell, you might have even been the one to switch the names around."

Your cheeks grew warmer, and a part of your brain registered that Gavi was now lingering in the doorway.

"But beyond that, linda, is that I was texting her to say I wasn't interested." He began dressing, joggers defining his legs in a way acid-washed denim never could. "But I don't like being judged based on rumors on Twitter. I want to be your friend-"

"Again with that word!" The outrage was finally seeping from you, and now that the lid had come off there was no containing it.

"How am I meant to be your friend, Pedro? You hit on me, you sleep with me, and then you moved on to the next girl. How am I supposed to be your friend after everything you've put me through?"

"What did you expect of me exactly?" He shoved his shirt over his head, a sweet bit of relief in a tense situation. "I like you, Naranja. More than a lot of other girls I've met. And I want to keep seeing you," he let his eyes burn a path down your body, "as a little more than a friend. If that's something you're into."

You took a step back, hand over your chest in shock. Did this man just ask you to be a friend with benefits, mere minutes after you asserted your disgust for his very being.

"You must think so highly of yourself." You couldn't raise your voice out of fear of it cracking. Just how much had you deluded yourself into thinking you found something special?

"I don't actually," there was a tone of laughter in his voice, "quite the opposite actually." There was suddenly not enough air between you. You simultaneously wished someone would interrupt you and that the moment would last forever.

"You're a sweet girl, Naranja. Too sweet for someone like me. I know who I am and what I want, and a girlfriend is not on that list currently."

"So what? I'm good enough for you to fuck and not to date?" You asked, the question heavy between the two of you. He remained silent, lips unmoving, the wheels turning behind deep chocolate eyes.

"I like you enough not to want to hurt you, Naranja. So, what do you say? Friends?"

"Go fuck yourself, Pedro."

~

The high pitched noise of the camera going off repeatedly was starting to get to your head. You leaned against the wall, rubbing at your temples to try and stave off the impending migraine. You opened your eyes briefly to see Gavi also leaning against the wall, gnawing on his lip and staring at his phone. Propelled by boredom, you shifted slowly along the wall to peak at what he was doing, desperate for any form of entertainment.

Thank God for the lack of Gavi's vertical blessing. A quick peek revealed that he wasn't actually typing any words, only rereading text from a contact that was saved as...

"Holy shit are you fucking your doctor?" You asked, probably a little louder than appropriate.

His eyes went wide as frying pans and he began to go visibly red. He started babbling out denials, explaining that the two of them were just friends.

"I mean she has a boyfriend and even if she didn't she would never go for me because she's so much older than me and cooler than me and she's way out of my league but all I want to do is keep her safe and make her happy and-"

His brain finally caught up to the words he was letting loose, and he abruptly suspended his word vomit.

"Does she know that you like her?" You asked, back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Gavi.

"God, I hope not. I don't want to do anything to make her life harder than it already is."

"Maybe telling her how you feel will make it easier. Maybe she feels the same."

"Yeah," he sighed deeply, looking wistfully at his phone again, "That's what Pedri keeps telling me."

The disgust was evident on your features. "I wouldn't really take Pedri's relationship advice."

"Now now, turning my best friend against me because you want me is a little extreme, Naranja." The voice behind you was too much to bear.

"Someone needs to give your best friend advice on how to not transform into a heartless user."

"Ironic. I remember one of us chanting 'use me, use me, use me' just last week." The response died in your mouth as Pedri's publicist approached. Where did this guy get off? Even if you believed his bullshit excuse about not wanting to fuck Silvia, the teen drama explanation as to why he doesn't "do" relationships compensated plenty.

"Alright you crazy kids! Ready to go shopping?" You spun around so quickly that you almost smacked Gavi with your hair.

"I beg your pardon? I am a stylist, not a personal shopper. I get pieces sent to me."

That was the truth. You weren't in charge or brand relations, and the purchasing department was an impenetrable fortress. Each week, a soulless intern wheeled a rack into the room, and you worked with what you were given. You had several ideas for how you could modernize some of these stuffy athletes, but that wasn't your place. Not yet anyways.

"Yes, of course. But we are redoing Pedri's wardrobe entirely. We have received communication from the team that his tunnel outfits are - what was the official wording? Oh yes, 'a detriment to the team's public image and an offense to the eyes of culers globally'. Springfield have also asked us to film some content during the journey."

"I don't think this is really part of Naranja's job description."

Of course Pedri was the one undermining you. Of course it was his voice speaking out only to call you incapable. You forced on your biggest smile, turning to face the agent directly.

"Oh, there's no issue at all. It would be an honor to makeover Spain's worst looking footballer."

~~~

Okay end of part 2!! I have decided that I want to post more frequent, smaller parts for this story rather than giant updates every three months. Please let me know what you think in the comments and in my ask box, and potentially where you want this dynamic to go! Thanks cutes xoxo gavisuntiedboot <3

(also if you would like to be on the taglist for this story, pls lmk!!)

Taglist:

@girlidekanymore

[hyuneskkami]

astronomy

𝓽sukishima kei x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : cassie!!!!! ilysm for requesting this <3 + i'm sorry I didn't write this sooner 😭 I had the best time nerding out about stars in this fic fr! alsoalso it's pretty short, so i'm sorry about that too 😩

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : stargazing , friend!tsukki x friend!reader , both of them like each other but are oblivious , no actual moves are made (maybe part 2) , very very short drabble , reader rambling about constellations (<3) , shooting stars ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 0.7k

“the sky is so pretty tonight,” I sighed. tsukishima and I sat cross-legged on our school’s roof.

since we were both a part of the student council, as co-sports captains, we had to stay back after hours to work on setting up everything for next week’s inter-school volleyball tournament that karasuno’s hosting.

we had just finished setting up all the stalls outside the court, and decided to call it a day since it was nearly nine in the night.

exhausted, I flopped onto my back. I pulled tsukishima down with me, and pulled out his arm to rest my head on.

“my favourite cushion,” I mumbled, smiling.

“my time as a cushion is very valuable, I must say.” he said, joking. “I bill by the hour.”

“yes, sir! you’ll get paid for being the best cushion ever.”

“I better.” he grumbled, and the both of us laughed.

after a while of just looking at the stars, tsukishima broke the silence.

“which constellation is that?” he asked me, pointing at the sky.

“oh! that’s hydra! it’s the longest constellation that’s ever been officially named.” I said, starting to ramble about it. “it’s made of, like, 17 different stars. oh my god, i’ve never been happier about how less pollution there is, in our prefecture. anyway, the brightest one there, if you see it,” I pointed at one star. “that’s alphard, or alpha hydrae. it’s like the defining star because it’s brighter than the rest, in the hydra constellation.”

“what about the one above that?” he asked, pointing to a quadrilateral-looking arrangement of stars.

“I think that’s… corvus? it’s symbolised by a crow or a raven. the four ends of the quadrilateral you can see, are gamma, delta, epsilon, and beta corvi. it’s associated with the greek god, apollo.”

I turned to check if he fell asleep, but he was staring at me quietly. he quickly whipped his head ahead, masking his smile.

I traced my fingers over the freckles on his cheek, under his eyes.

“this constellation’s my favourite one of all, though,” I whispered, observing his freckles. no matter how faint at night, everytime I saw them, I had this urge to trace every single one of them. join them like stars join to make constellations, and name them all.

his eyes fluttered close slowly.

I turned back to the sky, my cold fingers still resting against his warm cheek.

before I could continue telling him about the other constellations I could spot, a shooting star appeared at the edge of my vision. I sat up suddenly, and slapped tsukki’s arm.

“it’s a shooting star!” I exclaimed, in awe. “make a wish, tsukki! quick!”

I closed my eyes, and clasped my hands.

I wish I get amazing grades forever. and… I wish this moment with tsukki… lasted forever. I also wish for cute stuffed toys for my birthday this year!

I opened my eyes and turned to tsukishima, who was already looking at me.

“did you make a wish?” I asked, smiling.

tsukishima’s pov:

“make a wish, tsukki! quick!” y/n said.

my heart fluttered at the nickname, even though she called me that a lot. get a grip, kei! I chide myself.

her eyes closed, and her eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

I took in all of her features. the shape of her eyes. the slope of her nose. the curve of her lips. her beauty.

“did you make a wish?” she asked, opening her eyes and turning to me.

heat crept up my neck after getting caught staring at her. twice.

“yeah,” I lied.

every smile she sent my way, and every laugh i’d heard from her. every low moment in our volleyball careers we went through together. every win we celebrated with each others’ teams.

she was my dream come true.

what else could I wish for, if all i’d ever wanted was right in front of my eyes?

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[katyawriteswhump]

princess and the beast (steddie holiday drabble/bingo/steddiemas)

For @steddieholidaydrabbles day 12 prompt, “stargazing,”; @steddiebingo fill, “Gags” and @steddiemas week 2 prompt, “red.” (sorry… I got a bit carried away with my prompt mashing, I love them so much!!!) Also @whumptober day 11 prompt, “Manipulation.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

WC: 992; Rating: E CW: sex, gags, knotting, sort of morally gray in places; Tags: Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, pushy bottom Steve, slightly rough Eddie, (but not really dark Eddie, as this was supposed to be, I failed.) Enemies to lovers, slight angst and hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Summary: When Alpha Eddie suspects Omega Steve is going to break Gareth’s heart, he decides to teach Steve a lesson… just as he's unknowingly heading into his first rut.

NSFW under cut...

Eddie awoke grasping his dick—achingly erect, drooling pre-come, and verging on popping a knot. He’d slept in his van, with the syrupy scent of a needy Omega torrenting from the vehicle’s rear.

Along with incessant whimpers.

Panic jack-knifed. Eddie dashed around, his fly straining, and opened the doors. Steve ‘the princess’ Harrington huddled inside—sniffling into a gag, his hands tied.

Fuck. What have I done?

…

Yesterday

Eddie’s shitty mood was getting worse. Harrington had asked Gareth to take him stargazing. Gareth was over-the-fucking-moon, then Eddie yelled sense into him.

Wasn’t enough that ‘princess’s’ blockers no longer masked the torturing scent of his Omega pussy. Harrington ensnared a different Alpha each week, and Eddie refused to see Gareth broken-hearted.

He took Gareth’s place, driving around to fetch Steve.

He’d planned to chew Steve’s head off, maybe scare him. On arrival, Eddie’s attempted smile felt savage enough to deter anyone. Steve, nevertheless, hopped willingly into the van: “Shame Gareth’s sick. He’s a stargazing Einstein.”

Like you care, you manipulative little…

As Eddie drove, Steve fidgeted, surely scenting feral vibes. He smelled relentlessly delicious. Eddie’s teeth grinded… fuck! He’d gotten a gigantic hard-on. God, he needed to ditch this twerp.

“Why this way?” Steve’s voice wobbled, scent finally souring. “Gareth said Mars is better viewed fr—"

“SHUT UP!” Eddie slammed the breaks. A red veil slammed over his eyes. He grabbed Steve then…

Now, Eddie gawked at the helpless Omega. Last night, he’d flipped, or… Shit! He’d gone into his first rut! In Sex-Ed they’d learned how ruts caused crankiness, sometimes uncharacteristic or irrational behaviour. First ruts could even cause amnesia—when an Alpha’s horny inner-beast seized total control, the so-called ‘red-veil.’

He should’ve read the signs.

He removed the gag from Steve’s tearstained face, gently freed Steve’s hands: “Look, I went into a blind rut. I don’t remember. Did I hurt you?”

“Yes!” Steve sniffled, rubbed his wrists. “You were mean. Wouldn’t stop yelling! So, I get courted a lot. So what? After Tommy dumped me, I got r-rejection s-sickness. Okay, I dated g-guys to make myself feel better. Not Gareth! I hate sewing and typical Omega h-hobbies. Wanted to learn about the d-dumb stars.”

Eddie wished Steve was lying. Instead, he sensed only truth in Steve’s broken confession, his huge, liquid eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s next sob was snarly. “You should be, dipshit! Eventually, you calmed down. I cried, which is always humiliating. You cuddled me, then…” On instinct, Eddie offered cuddles again, then recoiled. He shouldn’t invade Steve’s space. “Ouch! Am I so repellent?”

Huh? “Look, did we… did I?”

“Noooooo!” Steve squirmed miserably on his butt. “Though you practically sent me into heat, you knot-head! I begged till you gagged me. Spent the night drowning in slick.” Eddie had been trying to ignore that scent. His dick was so failing. “Eddie, pleeeeeease!”

Eddie’s inner-Alpha had seized the cockpit and resisted? Now, he should say, We can’t! We hate each other. Instead, he whispered: “We barely know each other.”

“‘Cos all you do is glare! I’ve fancied you forever!”

Eddie cringed. “Guess I’ve been obsessed with you too.”

 “Great. What’s the hold-up?”

“Wanna cuddle first?”

“Seriously?” Steve rubbed desperately between his legs. Eddie surrendered, growling before his brain caught up:

“Present yourself, Omega.”

In a frantic rush, Steve got tangled in his clothes. Eddie stripped him and arranged him, by which time they’d stopped giggling—this shit was serious. Soon, ‘princess’s’ infamous butt waggled in Eddie’s face, pink folds flashing, slick-drenched thighs sparkling. Eddie probed a couple of fingers into his tunnel—tight, obscenely juicy. Steve whined, “Fill meeeee!”

Eddie worked him open a little more, then pressed his leaking cockhead to Steve’s hole, slowly breaching. Steve squealed and Eddie paused, luxuriating in Steve’s molten heat, his arms enfolding the Omega—who wriggled backward, literally splitting himself open: “Pleeeeeease!”

Steve peeped over his shoulder. Eddie’s heart melted at Steve’s startled yearning, which echoed Eddie’s own. Though that blood-red veil suddenly misted his vision, Eddie’s inner-Alpha relaxed and made love.

Steve’s broken chirrups evolved into screams that shook with seismic purrs. His constant orgasms milked Eddie toward climax, tides of mind-boggling pleasure rising till Eddie’s knot fully popped. His teeniest twitch now made Steve chirrup madly. And Eddie’s best-ever orgasm kept on giving, coating Steve’s insides with layers of scorching come.

Aftershocks still fading, Eddie arranged them on their sides, spooning Steve and tenderly stroking his belly.

Then, maybe for the first time in days, Eddie started thinking straight. “Christ, you’re helpless, and I—"

“Don’t say that!” Steve hissed, vicious. “You only consented when you’d stopped being a crazed beast! It’s insane! You’re so stupidly nice, I literally trust you already more than I trust myself! I pressured you last night. Sorry. I was hurting… but no excuses.”

“Okay. I get it,” murmured Eddie, and he kinda did.

“Great,” said Steve. “Look, I’m on birth control, so it’s no biggie, but… um…” His voice grew fragile, also honeyed and sweet. He peeped back at Eddie again, lashes fluttering.  “Will you be my Alpha?”

Am I the one being manipulated now?

Nah. Steve was no longer that demon in Eddie’s eyes. Steve was passionate, sincere, deadly cute. Plus, Eddie feared his inner-Alpha, so restrained with Steve, might not refrain from tearing any rival suitors apart. His knot inside Steve waned but his heart glowed. If Steve felt that glow too…?

“Never purred like that for anyone before.” Steve sighed. “It was magical.”

Eddie beamed, glad he’d remember their first time. Was that why his inner-Alpha held back last night?

“Know a bit about stargazing myself,” he whispered, licking Steve’s ear. “How about tonight?”

“More sex?”

We’ll see stars, whatever we choose. “No, a proper courting date! You’re insatiable, Sweetheart.”

They went stargazing, fucked too, and arranged their second date at a festive ball. Steve ‘the princess’ Harrington wore red, dazzling Eddie all over again. He never again courted any Alpha other than Eddie ‘the lovesick beast’ Munson.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

tags: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[kawaiibarty]

uhh the dartagan thingy🙏🙏🙏

rosekiller or bartylus, or just any barty ship

bartylus headcanons:

started off as a fwb thing. regulus wanted to explore his sexual identity with someone he trusted and barty... barty is a horndog okay?

i really like the idea of one sided bartylus but i can never decide on whose part the infatuation is.

if it were regulus he would love in silence. he wouldn't say anything because he'd want to protect their friendship and the situation would end as quietly as it started. he didn't want to lose someone he loved so dearly for something as mediocre and fleeting as an emotion. he could end up dying alone but if barty was happy than so was he. regulus would die for barty

if it were barty he would love with rage and passion. he'd do anything for regulus to notice him, and maybe regulus did but it seemed he'd never acknowledged it. he loved potter more anyway, right? he'd make sure he was the one who would be there for regulus and he didn't care how much it affected any of regulus's other relationships, he needed regulus to know that he was the only one who could love him the way that he did. regulus could try and distance himself all that he wanted but barty would always find a way to see him just one last time. barty would kill for regulus

rosekiller headcanons:

bonded over their desire to murder their parents. while regulus was an apologist and tried not to badmouth his parents (this was when he was still too young to recognise the abuse for what it was) barty and evan found comfort in the knowledge that they weren't the only children in the world who had a shitty life.

barty learned resilience from evan and evan learned patience from barty

i believe your best traits are ones shared in bonding with people who help you love yourself, and they helped each other realise that loving yourself, and other people, is possible (even if its in their own fucked up, non-conservative way)

their romance was gradual and took years for them to come to terms with. the problem with being born into conservative families is that you find it difficult to realise the feelings that you have are not evil.

barty was the first person (that wasn't pandora) to tell evan that he was proud of him for his achievements

evan was the first person to tell barty that he was loved since his mother had passed.

they fought for each other.

bartylily:

an unassuming relationship borne out of boredom and shared knowledge of medieval diseases.

they dated briefly, less than 3 months but they were the It Couple.

lily showed off her hot boyfriend at every chance that she got just to rub it in james's face that she COULD and WOULD date WHOEVER she wanted WHENEVER she wanted. barty was just basking in the attention and reveling in the hot and angry stares from sirius and james. especially james. because james is hot. no. he's not. he's a stinky gryffindor (lily is the only non-stinky gryffindor)

they were fifteen and incredibly stupid

do i hear pregnancy scare?????

no real romance. just for shits and giggles

pulled the most insane pranks and the marauders got jealous real quickly.

broke up via fake argument through howlers sent over the span of 2 weeks because they were bored.

remained good friends, surprising everyone.

deathstar/bitchkiller whatever you wanna call it:

midnight hookup after a gryffindor party where everyone got sloshed out of their minds. really not much to say here but the gossip

oh the

TEA

for weeks after that. they definitely fake dated for at least a week or three 👀 for the gossip okay??? those two love being in the limelight.

sexy estranged washout x sexy estranged washout ???? the TEA

sunkiller:

some more hookups????

my sideysenses are tingling and they're telling me they hatefucked at least seven times

they could never last in a relationship, let's be so fr. they're too alike

they're too different

they're too sexy for each other

oh and they both like regulus

they hatefucked because they both liked regulus

other than that, chill vibes ig. they did zaza together maybe twice. they apologised profusely then.

that's about it. like and subscribe for me i mean more.

[mirisss]

Ampers&One confessing to their crush

Ampers&one x gn! reader 

Warnings: None I think, really fluffy

Wordcount ≈ 2.1k

Thank you for the request 🍩! I hope you like it!

Na Kamden

Kamden would have done his research on how to ask someone out both from asking his friends, looking up tips on the internet, watching romance movies, reading books, and even asking your friends if you had mentioned any scenarios of how you wanted to be asked. 

The result was him choosing to slowly warm up to it. It began with the two of you studying in the library, he was helping you with a subject you struggled a little with, as the sun set and it was getting late, Kamden asked if you wanted to eat dinner together. You said yes, wanting to get closer to the boy who made your heart beat a little quicker. Kamden paid for your food, wanting to be a gentleman. The two of you ate and spoke, laughing and enjoying the moment. Once dinner was done and it was time to head home, Kamden walked you to your door, you hugged him saying goodbye, but then he suddenly stopped you. 

“Wait, (Y/n)!” “Huh? Oh, yeah, what’s up?” He walked closer. “I really like hanging out with you and I would love to spend more time together, as more than friends, if you want that too?” Kamden smiled nervously as he held out his hand, in it he held a necklace with a small flower charm, it was a (your favorite flower). “I’d love to do that too, Kamden,” 

He Brian

Brian would not be as well prepared as Kamden. Nope, Brian would kind of just do it without realizing it. The guy barely knew he had feelings for you before Mackiah and Jiho pointed it out to him. “Hey, lover boy stop staring at your lover and go ask them out already!” His two friends said as they laughed at the shocked face Brian gave them. “What do you mean? (Y/n) isn’t my lover?” “Obviously, because you haven’t asked them out, but you should cause they like you too,” Jiho said. 

Brian thought about that conversation for the next couple of days, but he didn’t know how he should do it, well until today. Brian was about to walk home after his classes had ended, as he walked by the basketball court he saw you standing there alone with a basketball in your hand, staring angrily up at the net. Brian smiled because he found you so cute. He walked over. 

“Hey, (Y/n), what are you doing?” “Oh, Hi Brian! For my gym class next week, we’re playing basketball but I’m really bad at it, and my gym teacher told me today that I have to do somewhat well next week to get a good grade, but as I suck at anything ball-sport related, it’s not looking good for me,” “Mm well, I could try to teach you some moves,” “You could?” You happily said, finally feeling a glint of hope. “Yeah, I used to play basketball almost professionally, until I moved,” “Thank you, Brian, I owe you,” 

For almost 2 hours, Brian gave you a private lesson on how to play basketball. After 2 hours, he noticed that you were getting tired so he decided that would have to be it for today. “Thank you for today Bri,” “No worries, hey, um, do you want to get something to eat?” “Yeah, sure, it’s on me though, as I said, I owe you!” “No, I’ll pay,” “No, I should paaay, Bri,” “What kind of gentleman am I if I don’t pay on a date I asked you out on?” “It’s a date?” That was when Brian realized what he had done. “Yeah, if you want it to be?” “I’d love that,” 

Choi Jiho

Jiho first met you through his younger friend, Siyun. Siyun and you shared a class and during a lunch break, Siyun brought you with him to the table where his friends sat as your other friends were sick or busy that day. All the boys were super nice and you especially took a liking to Jiho, finding interest in his major. Jiho immediately fell in love with you, it was love at first sight for him. He would be a little nervous around you but you didn’t notice. Jiho was just a little bit jealous too, jealous of Siyun who got to see you all the time. Therefore, Jiho did everything he could to show you that he was better than his friend. 

After you were invited to a movie night with the seven boys who made up your classmates friend group, Jiho got to find out something that helped him out. 

“Come on, please can we watch a horror movie? Please guys,” Seungmo really wanted to watch a horror movie but some of the guys were against it, Jiho wanted to hear your opinion before he stated his own. “(Y/n), where do you stand on the horror movie? Do you like them or not?” “Um, both, I kind of like them but I also get scared so if I wanna watch one, I’ll always need someone beside me that I can hold onto,” You laughed a bit nervously, making Jiho smile as he found it cute. “You can always hold onto me if you want,” The way he said it and the way his eyes looked so warm as he gently gazed into your eyes made your heart skip a few beats and a blush crept up on your cheeks. “Then I want to watch a horror movie,” “Same, so that means the majority wants to watch the horror movie,” 

Everyone sat down in their designated spots, you stood a bit awkwardly on the side wondering where you should sit. Jiho waved you over to the couch where he was sitting, Siyun on the other end. “Come on, you can’t hold on to me from over there,” At the beginning of the movie, Jiho was disappointed as you just sat in the middle of the couch with him on one side and Siyun on the other seemingly totally fine. As the movie was approaching its middle point, the first real jump scare happened and you were very frightened almost jumping onto Jiho as you hid your face in his chest. Jiho’s heartbeat was racing but he felt happy, he embraced his arms around your frame, hugging you tightly to him. 

After the movie was over, Jiho reluctantly removed his arms from around you as it was time for people to head home. He walked you over to the door, hugging you to say goodbye. “Thank you for being my human shield tonight, it was really nice, you’re a great hugger, whoever gets to date you is lucky,” “Do you wanna be lucky?” “What do you mean?” “Want to go on a date?” “Seriously?” “Yeah, (Y/n), do you want to go on a date with me, Choi Jiho?” “Yes, I do,” 

Yoon Siyun

Siyun and you would be friends, studying together or just belonging to the same friend group. The two of you both enjoy photography, so sometimes, the two of you tend to stray away from the group as you wish to take photos of the clouds or nature. Without realizing it, Siyun began snapping photos of you as he fell for your passion. He thought you looked really cute as you concentrated on getting the perfect photo of a flower as a gentle breeze was blowing. It would take him a few weeks to realize that he was doing this, it wasn’t until he needed to go through his pictures to find one for an assignment in school that he found the majority of his camera roll from the last month was just photos of you. 

When he realized this, he knew that he had feelings for you, and he knew the perfect way to confess. He would print out all of his favorite photos he had taken of you and even some photos of the two of you together. He made a small collage of them, decorating it with flower stickers and other cute stickers. Next time he met up with you, he would ask if you wanted to see the photos he loved the most, and you, of course, said yes. He took out the collage and gave it to you. In the middle of it, he had written, I love you. “I love you too, Siyun,” 

Choi Kyrell

He wouldn’t be the one to confess first, he would want to but he would also be too scared to ruin things with the person he liked. For more read Your warm embrace. 

Mercer Mackiah

Mackiah would be totally whipped for you, he would try to act cool and impress you but the second you look away he is following you with puppy eyes. Whenever you asked for something he would get it in a heartbeat. 

“Uh I could really use a snack right now, I’m so hungry but I still have two more classes before the day is over,” “Uhm, I just need to go to the bathroom, be back in a sec,” Mackiah would run over to the cafeteria and buying you a snack then run back with it, luckily the boy has a lot of energy and he’s a fast runner. “Here, I got you a snack,” He’d smile brightly as he handed you the snack, his eyes sparkling with joy at being able to get you a snack. “Thanks, Mackiah, you didn’t need to,” “But I wanted to,” 

Other times it could be during an evening hangout, your friend group was at a park just hanging out and talking. Later on, a chilly breeze passed by, reminding you of your lack of a jacket. “I’m so stupid, I didn’t bring a jacket even though I knew we would be out for a long time,” “Hey, it’s okay, here, I brought a blanket, we can share it,” Mackiah quickly opened his bag and took out a blanket, he then walked over to you, wrapping it around your shoulders as he sat down very close to you. “Thanks, are you sure you don’t mind sharing it?” “Of course not, I’d love to share it. Anything for you,” “You’re so sweet, Mackiah, you’re like every person’s dream boyfriend,” “Even yours?” “I mean, yeah, you’re nice, sweet, caring, funny, not to mention handsome, loyal, oh-” Mackiah suddenly stopped your rambling by leaning in and kissing your cheek. “Can I be your boyfriend then?” “Yes, please,” He tried to stay cool but the second he turned his face away from you, he was turning as red as a tomato as he cheered internally. 

Kim Seungmo

Seungmo would be really afraid of rejection so he wouldn’t dare ask you face to face. No, he would write a letter with the help of his friends. He rewrote the letter many times because he wanted it to be perfect. 

Once he had his perfect letter, that basically just said: 

“hey, (Y/n), I’m in love with you, wanna go out? Love Seungmo, but like no pressure if you don’t” 

His friends wondered why he opted for such a simple letter instead of the three pages long once he had them help him write, but no one was surprised. They knew Seungmo, he’s young and terrified of confessing to his first love. 

Seungmo ended up leaving the letter in your locker, waiting behind a corner to see your reaction to the letter. When you opened your locker and found the letter you locked around a little confused but figured that it was for you. You opened it and read the sentence, laughing a little and blushing. You looked around to try and spot the tall boy with now blonde-blue hair, and while he was hiding behind a corner, he wasn’t really hidden. You walked over to him, he was nervous and ready to bolt out of there. 

“Hi, Seungmo,” “Hey, (Y/n),” “Yes,” “Yes?” “Yes, I wanna go out with you,” “Really?” “Yeah, and I like you too!” Seungmo nervously put his hand out toward you, looking shyly between it, your eyes, and your hand. You smiled at the shy boy before putting your hand in his, and so you walked out of the school together, hand in hand, shy smiles and red cheeks, nervous giggles could be heard every now and then.

[pico-farad]

This Time on Yu-Gi-Oh Vrains Analysis: How the Fuck Did Aoi's Writing Get Worse

Got sidetracked by GX Week, but I'm back to talk about Aoi again, because oh boy...

So for season 1, I'd heard the rumors of how they screwed her over, and they were mostly in line with the ways I expect Yugioh female characters to be failed by the writers. Overall I still liked Aoi and, while I found some decisions distasteful, I didn't think the actual quality of her writing was worse than other characters'.

Aoi's writing in season 2 is several times worse than it was in season 1. It's truly a disaster, amateurish and baffling, in a way that I think most viewers don't even consciously realize. And while it may not be the worst moment in Yugioh -- it is, in my opinion, the worst writing I've ever seen in Yugioh.

Anyway, that's how I wrote 4k words descending into Aoi madness. Enjoy!

---

Before I begin, a fair warning: I'm gonna say some harsh things in this post. Because being mean is funny, and I deserve it after what I just watched.

But I also want say up front that I don't think the Vrains writers are bad writers, and I still have respect for them. Writing for children's television is grueling work that I could never do, and there are many reasons why bad art is released into the world besides simple writing skill. Vrains clearly had a troubled production, and I have other suspicions about why it turned out the way it did. If there's interest, I think that could be its own post, too.

Also, I refer to the "writers" in this post when I criticize Vrains's storytelling, but to be clear, directors, producers, storyboarders, and others can have just as much influence over the show's story as writers, or even more so. I use the term writers for convenience's sake.

Without further ado...

⇀ Losing My Mind Immediately

Akira lets Aoi go into the restricted area, which nobody has ever returned from.

Ahem... WHO ARE YOU??? Why is Akira, overprotective onii-san numero uno, extremely willing to put his sister on house arrest for her own safety, has never given Aoi his permission to fight, suddenly letting her go off into a danger zone with a 0% survival rate, right after she lost to Spectre immediately in the Tower of Hanoi conflict.

Oh, so now you think she's capable? Why???

Not only that, they make Ghost Girl be the one to say it's too dangerous for her. What?? Ghost Girl is the one who encouraged Aoi to sneak out and into the danger zone in season 1. These are literally the last two characters who would say these things to Aoi.

Then, when they enter the restricted area, Aoi immediately gives up her emergency logout program to an NPC. Normally I'd brush this off. Naivety being used to emphasize female characters' moral virtuosity is passé, but it's not a big deal. It wouldn't be, if the next 30 seconds didn't make me completely go off the rails. This is the speech that is possibly the worst writing, line by line, that I have ever seen in Yugioh.

Roll the tape...

Aoi: Recent events have taught me that I'm still a child. I took on Hanoi for my brother, but look how that turned out. I troubled everyone, and they needed to save me. I was full of myself, thinking I can do anything on my own, but in truth, the world is full of people and we're all connected. Everyone saved me. So this time, I want to save everyone. I'll become stronger, so this time, I'll do everything I can!

Literally none of these sentences make sense... Half of them aren't even true. It reads like ChatGPT asked to write a shonen speech -- the facade of being inspiring, but ultimately empty and nonsensical.

"I took on Hanoi for my brother," This is blatantly false. She had a whole goddamn episode focused on why she decides to fight Hanoi, it's her duel with Baira, and it's specifically about how she's not doing this for her brother, she's not doing this for herself, she's doing this for everyone. If anything, she disregards her brother in order to fight Hanoi.

Blue Angel: I learned something from my duels. When people believe in you, you're fighting for everyone. So I will fight for everyone from now on!

Sound familiar? It's the same goddamn thing she's saying right now, "this time, I want to save everyone." Why are they framing this as Aoi having a new realization, having learned her lesson? What they demonstrate with this is that Aoi hasn't learned her lesson. The reason she lost to Spectre is because trying to save everyone includes trying to save him, and he takes advantage of her naivety.

Blue Angel: You're the same as me... When you were alone, you sought love, and Blue Angel's blue is the ultimate love! Blue Angel will descend into your heart, and save your soul! Spectre: Really? *bows mockingly* Please, then, save my soul!

Naively trying to save others is exactly what she's doing right now, by thoughtlessly giving away her emergency logout in a place that nobody has ever returned from. Her character has gone completely backwards. I said in my last post that losses are good because we get to see characters grow -- I stand by the opinion that they could have made the Spectre loss work -- but they've bungled it on three different levels. She loses horribly, then they retcon her reason for losing, in order to make her character regress.

Apparently, the real reason Aoi lost to Spectre, is because "she was full of herself, thinking she could do anything on her own." I'm so mad. First of all, Aoi clearly wasn't acting on her own and never thought she was, Go and Yusaku were both fighting Hanoi too. Why are they acting like Aoi lost because of hubris?

You know who thought he could do everything on his own? Yusaku. But clearly he didn't need to learn that "the world is full of people and we're all connected." He clearly believed the opposite, because he did everything by himself and tried to reject allyship at every turn and yet lo and behold, he hasn't lost a single duel.

"Everyone saved me. So this time, I want to save everyone." NO, LITERALLY ONE PERSON SOLO'D HANOI, AND EVERYONE ELSE DID JACK SHIT. This resolution that Aoi comes to not only regresses her character, but it makes no goddamn sense. Who is the everyone you're talking about, Aoi? Are they in the room with us right now?

Who am I kidding, it's obvious who the "everyone" is, because as she says it, the clip that plays is Akira's manpain as Aoi gets turned into data. Because even in this moment that has nothing to do with Akira, the writers cannot resist bending Aoi's character to revolve around how much she loves her beloved onii-san, even though it makes no sense in this context of trying to save a random NPC. 

Frankly, the whole "everyone saved me" also makes no sense in the context of trying to save a random NPC. But like, even less sense than that, because the actual context of this "heartfelt" shonen speech is that she's trying to get Ghost Girl to give up her emergency logout button. Ghost Girl, established to be self-serving and willing to throw others under the bus to advance herself. Why does this speech convince her? It doesn't even have anything to do with her.

Great, so now not only have they botched Aoi's character, but for the rest of the show, Ghost Girl is stripped of the characteristics that actually made her engaging.

If they wanted Aoi to convince Ghost Girl to give up her escape program and become more selfless, it's simple. Have her say, "We saved you." Ghost Girl wouldn't be standing here right now, if Aoi and the others hadn't risked everything to save everyone.

There's more I could pick on about these 30 seconds, like how the writers aren't content with handing Aoi a humiliating loss, but they also make her act like she deserved to be "humbled" by that experience: "Recent events have taught me that I'm still a child," "I troubled everyone, and they needed to save me." It's like they're not content with infantilizing her in the narrative, they need to make sure she infantilizes herself.

Which brings me back to the point about Aoi's "hubris." Because what is implied by saying that Aoi lost because of hubris when nothing she said or did suggested that, is that it was hubris for Aoi to fight at all. It was hubris for Aoi, and the audience, to believe she could do anything. Which is just maddening.

And to top it all off, to add insult to indignity to injury to insanity, she finishes her speech by saying, "I'll become stronger! This time, I'll do everything I can!"

AND THEN. SHE LOSES. IN THE NEXT EPISODE.

This speech reads like a bad influencer apology. First they "admit" their mistake (that Blue Angel didn't do anything in the Hanoi fight), then they deflect and change the story about what actually happened (it's because she was being full of herself! That's definitely why she lost), and finally they promise to do better (don't worry, this season, Aoi will get stronger and get some wins!), but they don't.

I can talk more about how the writers give Aoi shallow girlboss speeches instead of actually demonstrating her strength in duels, but that will come when I talk about Blue Maiden. 

Right now... it's time to talk about Blue Girl vs. Soulburner.

⇀ What's in a re-introductory duel?

Something that's pretty standard in Yugioh is the concept of the season 2 "re-introductory duel." Think Shou's promotion duel in GX, the filter episodes that came before the World Grand Prix arc started, the Sector Security battle royale in Arc-V. They can be story-relevant, or completely filler, but the point is to re-familiarize you with the main supporting characters. If you look at the first 10 episodes of a Yugioh season 2, you'll generally see all the main supporting characters represented in a duel. And if they aren't, it may reveal something about how relevant they are to the writers (Misawa GX, Ruka 5D's, Yuzu Arc-V...)

Go gets his re-introductory duel against Soulburner, and though I have my issues with how they handled Go in Season 2, which I went into in my previous post, it succeeds in every way a re-introductory duel should. It addresses the transition of his character between seasons, sets up his conflict for this season, introduces his new cards, adds character to Soulburner, and establishes a dynamic between the two. Their opposition is natural, and if anything, the season fails to capitalize on how well this duel set things up.

Aoi's re-introductory duel... is also against Soulburner. And their opposition... uh...

Look, I'll be frank, there is only one reason for Soulburner to duel Aoi, his third duel already in 10 episodes: they are fast-tracking him into main character slot #2. I talked about this in the Soulburner analysis. 

Aoi and Soulburner have no reason to be fighting, this match-up is completely artificial. They went "well Aoi needs to get a re-introductory duel because that's the Yugioh formula, and Soulburner needs more screentime, so let's shove them together," regardless of how it doesn't make narrative sense. How do they do that?

Blue Girl: We came to find the Ignis. SOL-- I mean, my brother can help you. Soulburner: You don't understand. The Lost Incident made us suffer for a long time. SOL Technologies was partly responsible for that. Entrust our future to them? Thanks, but we'll solve our own problems. Blue Girl: *frowning* In that case, those Ignis originally belonged to SOL Technologies. Give them back. Soulburner: What?

This is completely out of character for her. She knows that they're victims of the Lost Incident, she knows what they've been through, and they've just told her they're trying to save someone whose consciousness was stolen. She just said that her motivation is saving people, specifically to pay back the people who saved her. Guess who the only person who saved you was, Aoi? It wasn't your onii-san.

It would've made more sense for Ghost Girl to duel Soulburner. She's the one who was established to be a self-serving bounty hunter in Season 1. Oh, but if you gave Ghost Girl a re-introductory duel, it might give off the wrong impression that she's relevant?

This duel doesn't even add anything to Soulburner's character either, the way that Soulburner vs. Go did.

What could they have done if they were actually thinking about Aoi?

How about Aoi vs. Akira? Akira tells her that if she can beat him in a duel, he'll believe that she's strong enough to go into the restricted zone. Or they could do Aoi vs. Ghost Girl -- same thing, Ghost Girl tells Akira that if Aoi wins, it proves she's equally capable of going on this mission.

Either of these would check all the boxes for a re-introductory duel. It's a memorable matchup, it re-establishes the personalities and (IN-CHARACTER) relationships of these three, and it addresses the transition between seasons -- we left off from Aoi's devastating loss, and this duel would bridge her into an upwards character arc in Season 2.

Of course, if they did that, they would have to make an upwards character arc for Aoi.

These two episodes have succeeded in the exact opposite of what a re-introductory episode is supposed to do. It's a garbage fire of bad writing. They regress her character, and call it progress. She's out of character, in order to be unsympathetic. They don't set up an arc for Aoi this season, because they haven't thought of one. They introduce new cards that never come back. But none of it matters anyway, because Aoi isn't actually important! We'll just make up something new the next time we're contractually obligated to give her a few episodes (but not too many, god forbid!)

I guess there's one part of her character they make consistent, which is making her lose in the worst ways possible.

⇀ Blue Girl vs. Soulburner

You know how in my last Aoi post, I said that it's good when characters lose duels, and that "X should have won that duel" is a comment that often misunderstands how outcomes are about narrative purpose rather than deck matchups?

Forget everything I said. Aoi ABSOLUTELY should have won that duel holy shit. I just witnessed a goddamn crime.

So there is actually one more reason that Soulburner duels Aoi. It's that it's a good concept for a duel. Aoi should annihilate Soulburner. Go ahead with your 72 step Salamangreat combo I dare you. Go ahead and use Burning Draw I dare you. Everyone likes seeing how the underdog comes out of a pinch, and if I came out of the duel thinking, "Wow, I can't believe Soulburner pulled that off!" I could have forgiven it.

Ha ha... wow..... I can't believe Soulburner pulled that off......

I'm not usually that bothered by hyper specific made up anime cards, but what the fuck is that trap that negates effect damage under 300. Countering exactly 1) Skull Invitation 2) Ojama Trio 3) Every one of Aoi's cards. Yeah okay, fuck you Aoi.

And Aoi still should have won, if Soulburner didn't one-up Aoi's own Fusion Summon by Burning Draw YOLO topdecking a fucking Salamangreat Super Poly out of nowhere. Why??? Because the scripter couldn't think of a way out of the situation other than copying one of the strongest cards ever designed?? Fuck you Aoi.

Even Ghost Girl knows how robbed she was.

It's salt on the wound to cap off her "I'll get stronger speech" by having her lose a duel that was 99-1 in her favor. Soulburner deletes her life points in one attack, she screams and gets slammed into a cliff, and Soulburner stands over her and says, "Blue Girl, you're stronger than before."

Jesus, just look at that condescending framing.

Aoi doesn't show up again in a relevant capacity for 20 episodes, and doesn't have another duel for 30 -- that's a quarter of Vrains. Her last words as Soulburner stands over her are "You won because of the bond between a duelist and an AI?" before she passes out.

This, I suppose, is their weak attempt at introducing a plot for Aoi this season. It's... well... 

⇀ Aqua and Miyu

The Miyu backstory is lazy as hell.

I'm sorry to all the fans rooting for female characters and wlw ships, but this writing was unbelievably sloppy. Someone put "Aoi's childhood friend was a victim of the Lost Incident and that's how she gets the Water Ignis" into the show notes and then didn't think about it until it was time to write the episode.

Miyu is not a cardboard cutout. She's not cut from cardstock, both of those at least have structural integrity. Miyu has the character solidness of wet tissue. She's an NPC, a parody of a generic little girl. The only reason to care about her is if you buy into the cheap writing shortcut of damselling little girls, or you're a desperate lesbian. I'm sorry, lesbians.

They could have done anything to give Miyu an actual character, I'm not asking for a lot. Give her any kind of trait or interest -- maybe she loves the ocean and shows Aoi her collection of seashells, and she says they should go to the beach together one day but they never do. They could talk about idols, and maybe that's what inspires Aoi to later become one. They could talk about Duel Monsters, it's Yugioh for christsake. A playground duel would be adorable.

There's a million things they could have done that are more compelling than playing on the slide, but there's one that's so obvious it pains me.

The Blue Angel picture book. The one that Aoi said was her childhood treasure in the duel with Spectre, the one that motivated her to try and save him, a victim of the Lost Incident. The book that's an established part of her backstory, which made her take on the Blue Angel moniker. The book that's about a girl who is all alone until she makes friends and no longer has to cry blue tears.

Could it be more obvious? Have Miyu be the one who gave the book to Aoi. It's a backstory on a silver platter. If the writers cared about Aoi at all, if they didn't immediately forget every single thing about her the second they turn in the script for the contractually obligated Aoi episodes, they would know this. But they don't. Because even the Blue Angel picture book was clearly something they made up on the spot.

Imagine if Aoi's season 2 climax duel was vs. a controlled Miyu (à la Jin), the themes from the Spectre duel returned. Aoi questions if she really can save someone from the Lost Incident, or if it's just her own naivety, destined to be crushed over and over. But she breaks through, because this time it's her turn to save someone who's all alone. This is how you connect seasons 1 and 2, this is how you take a loss and turn it into a payoff. We can even get Spectre's perspective, he's there in the final fight.

But that's not what we get. Instead, they play on the slide, and then Miyu drops a ring down a drain, which I guess is what they think is a relatable cause of conflict for little girls. I can guarantee they would have come up with something more substantive if these were two male characters. And the pacing is just comically clunky. "Aoi-chan, look, it's my mother's ring! Isn't it pretty? Oh no, I dropped it! Wahhhhh!"

Aoi lies to Miyu's mom and says she's the one who dropped the ring, even though Miyu denies it vehemently, clearly crying and in great distress as her mother drags her away and never lets her see Aoi again.

This, we're told, is how Aoi "saved" Miyu.

Aqua: While she was imprisoned, you kept her strong, Aoi. No matter how many duels she lost, no matter how much pain she endured, even after her meals were reduced, she never broke and promised to escape. So she could see you again and apologize for that day.

.........APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT???

What the fuck kind of message is this supposed to be? Aqua is supposed to be the Ignis of TRUTH, why are she and Miyu glorifying Aoi's lie as some courageous, inspirational action, when clearly it did nothing but harm? I'm not crazy, am I? The obvious takeaway from this flashback is that even if you had good intentions lying to protect your friend, it caused miscommunication, distress, and led to their friendship breaking apart? Like, their lives would have been just fine if Aoi didn't lie, and Miyu learned a reasonable lesson about not being careless with other people's expensive objects?

This backstory is comically bad. Just imagine Miyu, going through kidnapping, starvation, and torture, sustained only by the thought that one day... she can tell the girl that she played on the slide with years ago... that she's so sorry... that her hand slipped when taking off a ring and it rolled into a drain 5 feet away.

The story would make more sense if it was me in the Lost Incident, and I was plagued by guilt over dumping Cheeto crumbs on Rachel from Pre-K, because at least I actually did something bad.

It's difficult to even articulate how much all these sloppy writing decisions compound on each other. Because they wasted Aoi's introductory episodes and didn't set up anything for her, she has no role in the story for 30 episodes. Because she was given nothing for 30 episodes, they have to shove an entire backstory for Aoi into one episode. Because they shoved the backstory into one episode, Miyu and Aoi's relationship with her are painfully rushed, generic, and flimsy. Because their relationship is so flimsy, this whole backstory, Aoi's motivation to fight, her entire season 2 plotline, is soulless garbage.

Aoi didn't remember Miyu until this episode. The writers didn't create Miyu until this episode. You cannot ask the audience to be invested in Aoi rescuing Miyu, when you don't even care enough to conceptualize her.

And this is the most damning conclusion of this post. The writers don't care about Miyu. And they don't care about Aoi. And they don't care if you care about them. You weren't meant to care about them.

Again, I'm not saying that the Vrains writers are bad writers, or they hate women. There are other factors to consider, like the specifics of gender relations in Japan, how Yugioh animes primarily exist to advertise trading cards to young boys, the fact that there has not been a single female writer on Yugioh since season 2 of GX. And obviously, Vrains had production issues, and every character suffered from flawed writing.

But my point is, Aoi suffered the most for it. 

⇀ Final Thoughts

There's a lot more that I could say about Aoi for the rest of the show. Like how she gets a magical girl transformation sequence, only to be irrelevant for 10 episodes again, and we have to wait that entire time to see her new deck. Then the duel, which really needed to be a two-episoder, is about Haru instead. The pointlessness of the Bohman duel. The pointlessness of Yusaku's "identity reveal" to Aoi. How they needed to have a third and fourth Akira manpain scene as Aoi is "taken away" from him, though I guess in that last one Aoi gets to have some girlpain too.

I did plan to talk about each of these duels, and more about how I would do an Aoi vs. Miyu conflict, but this post has gotten way out of hand already, and I've made the points I wanted to make.

I hope it was cathartic for everyone who was disappointed with Aoi, and perhaps gave language to people who were frustrated but unable to articulate why. I did some research into what other people have said about Aoi's character, such as this video by YugiohEverything, but I find that a lot of discourse in Yugioh is not very good at pinpointing why something works or doesn't work, and the actual skill of writing is oversimplified. This is especially true when it comes to Yugioh girls, and criticisms tend to fall back on losing duels or getting put in a coma, and while those can suck, they aren't the real problem.

In my last Aoi post I said "I'll just have to hope that they don't fumble whatever new thing they give her... but things tend to get bleaker for female Yugioh characters as the show goes on and whatever initial involvement they had in the story fizzles out," and this, I think, has been the real problem persistently for Yugioh girls. The writers are contractually obligated to come up with something when a series is first pitched, but when that period is up, or when concessions have to be made, the female characters are the first to be forgotten.

I just didn't think it would be this bad for Aoi.

Well. Expectations lowered.

---

First Aoi analysis

All Vrains season analysis

[goszixx]

Something new

✧༺♡ ༻∞ ✧༺♡ ༻∞ ✧༺♡ ༻∞

Note ❈° ≫ I wanted to say a few things real quick but if your really horny you can skip! Thank you for all the support so far, on tumblr and AO3. You guys are so kind. Also I think I’m going to post once a week so I can stay at a steady pace and not get overwhelmed. I’ll post one smut and an update to “Cat in a Tree”. I’m working on a Vash from Trigun and Yin from mlbb. Next probably Yuji since he’s my favorite from JJK. Thank you again!

Warning❈° ≫ Blow job, Geto is impatient, maybe a part 2 depending if ppl like it, reader is dominate, handcuffs, begging, female masturbation, vibrator

✧༺♡ ༻∞ ✧༺♡ ༻∞ ✧༺♡ ༻∞

Geto peaked through the crack of your shared bedroom. His stare fixated on the beautiful body of his wife. Your legs were parted, knees bent slightly as your teeth were pressed into your lip.

A light sweat coated your face, making the dim light highlight your body perfectly. The strap of the silk nightgown fell down your shoulder as the buzz of your vibrator lingered in the air. For some reason, the image was so taunting Geto felt as if he should look away.

The blush staining your face reflected in his own, his button up shirt feeling suffocating all of a sudden. Geto pulled at his tie to allow him to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Y/n.” Geto cooed as his fingers gently pushed against the door frame. His voice made you jump, face flushing in embarrassment as your fingers fidgeted to turn off the vibrator. “G-Geto, when did you get home from work?”

Your husband peeled off his coat, “not too long ago. Having fun with yourself?” The raven asked as he folded his blazer and placed it neatly on a nearby chair. His feet graced the rug near the edge of the bed, his upper body leaning over you.

A small smirk peered on his lips as your fingers played with one another. “Yes. I was.” You admitted in a shy tone.

A chuckle came from the man’s lips, one of his hands coming up to meet your thigh. He stroked the fat of your thigh, leaning closer to feel more of your warmth.

“Did it feel good?” The man’s lips rested by your ear, his fingers tracing up your thigh. His hair sprawled across his back, his dark locks tied up in a half up half down. Your eyes flickered to your husband’s lips but decided against engaging.

Geto watched the look, becoming puzzled from your hesitation. “What’s wrong?” The man started to retract his hand but stopped when you placed the heat back on you.

You struggled to answer his question, knowing it won’t make much sense once it comes out of your mouth. “You make me feel too good, Suguru.”

The words floated in the air before the man was able to catch them. “Thank you?” He chuckled in relief. A hand pressed on his chest to gain his attention. The man went quiet as you continued.

“So good. But, you never let me make you feel good.” You uttered, pushing Geto off you with care. The man ended up sitting back in your spot, still blinking to understand what was happening.

You took a seat on his lap, hands resting on his shoulders while his eyes trailed around your body. His finger tugged at the strap of your clothing as your finger worked off his tie. “What do you plan to do with me?” Geto murmured under his breath.

His eyes were tilted down, directed at your naked collarbone and cleavage. “Have you ever thought that maybe I pleasure you because you-“ the raven’s words were cut off with a groan when you rolled your hips.

His erection twitched between the heat of your legs. Your fingers laced under his chin, his eyes meeting yours, watching confidence grow across your face. “You’re very pretty, Suguru.” You whispered, leaning closer to him to peck his cheek.

Suguru flushed at the compliment. He doesn’t take them well even after all the years you’ve spent together. “T-thank you y/n.”

“Of course.” Your fingers trailed down the man’s shirt before they stopped by his thigh. You shuffled back to work on the belt confining Suguru’s cock.

He groaned from the movements and tried to grab onto the curve of your ass but you swatted him away. “Can I make you feel better, Suguru?”

Lust stained your stare, eyes watching as Geto’s chest started to slowly rise and fall. There’s a reason as to why he doesn’t let you take the lead, but decided to not mention it. “Yes.” Your husband uttered, leaning back on his hands.

You slid off his lap to take off his boxers, however you stopped half way through. Suguru all but frowned at the stopped motion, his eyes following your alluring body across the room. Your fingers wrapped around one of the dresser drawers before pulling.

Geto adjusted his body and scooted closer to the headboard of the bed. “What are you trying to do to me?” Suguru asked with amusement tingling on his lips.

His eyes widened a bit when he saw the shines of metal along with the blue fur of handcuffs. His smirk grew. “What are you playing at y/n?”

You gave an innocent smile before straddling your husband. His head laid on two soft pillows, his shirt open and flowed down his sides. His boxers hung low on his waist as his hair painted the pillow behind him. “You can’t touch me. That would ruin the fun wouldn’t it?”

As a test, Geto pulled at the handcuffs to see if they were strong enough. They were. He placed them above his head, flat on one of the pillows he rested on. A bottle was pressed into your hands, the cap flicked off.

You sat on the bed, Geto feeling the material dip a bit as he peered down to the lube in your hands. Before squeezing the bottle, you helped Geto wiggle out of his boxers. A sigh of relief left his lips before he felt a familiar warmth on the base of his cock.

The man all but squirmed under his restrictions from the simple touch. Your finger’s wrapped around his girth, sliding the liquid all the way to his tip. Painstakingly so, your index finger rolled over the tip, sliding over the slit as precum beaded down along with the lube.

You analyzed and adjusted, your attractive wit turning to be Geto’s down fall. There’s a clear reason why he doesn’t let you take the lead, he’s impatient. He loves pleasuring you and it allows him to have control over how and when he orgasms, changing positions enough so he doesn’t disappoint you and cum quickly. You caught onto his game about a year or so ago but never mentioned it.

Though now that the curiosity has been drowning inside you, you just had to see how far it can go. “How does this feel, Suguru?”

Geto’s eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth grinding down on one another as he tried his hardest not to close his legs from pleasure. “Slow…” He mewled. You squeezed a bit at his base, feeling his erection twitch under your clutch.

The pressure declines as you slide your hand up, “Do you not like it slow?” You murmured, hearing the man choke under you. His eyes grew heavy, dazed from the pace. You continued your rhythm until Geto struggled against his restraints. His fingers dug into the handcuffs as his neck strained on the pillows.

Lube covered his cock, oozing down the base and dripping onto his sack. The husband mumbled things under his breath, trying to stiffen his pleasure as much as possible. Because of his lack of vision, he couldn’t see your head dipping down until he felt a soft flush of your tongue pressing the underside of his cock.

He shivered. “Darling pleas-e let me touch you. You win, you win.” His hands clasped around nothing, your mouth enveloping him further until you stopped about half way. A remnants of pity pulled at your heart knowing this was Geto’s first time doing anything of the sort. But you knew he could stop this entire thing if he said one simple word.

Since the safe word didn’t even think to leave his lips, you continued. Hollowing out your cheek, your tongue laid flat against the underside. Your hands worked on the uncovered half, allowing you to focus most of your attention on sucking.

Your name left his lips as he tried to thrust into your mouth for more. “Be patient Suguru.” You hummed around him, raising yourself off of him so he could understand you.

The words laid deaf on his ears from the vibration they brought on his erection. You lowered yourself and began sucking on his length, feeling it twitch more and more frequently. His thighs trapped your head, not squeezing but nuzzling against your face to bring you closer.

When your tongue laid flat against his slit, flicking across the sensitive skin with meticulous precision, Geto withered through his orgasm.

Cream painted your mouth, dripping down your chin as the man’s fingers dug into his own palm. His mouth was left open, lips quivering over words he could not yet comprehend. “Fuck.” He groaned when feeling your fingers grip around him once again.

Fingers pushed his damp bangs from his face, his pupils adjusting on your glistening face. His eyes targeted the small amount of white liquid on your cheek, “let me fuck you.” The words left the man without thinking, not like he would change them if he could.

His gaze was firm but his heaving showed how bad he needed you. “What do I have to do? I’ll do anything, just let me take the lead… please.”

“Begging? That’s new.” You hummed. You leaned down to kiss the man’s chiseled stomach, your eyes picking back to meet your husband's glare. “From now on, we take turns taking the lead. Is that okay with you, darling?”

[tariah23]

It’s crazy because I can count on my fingers the amount of times I’d been in that girls car, man. 4 times. The first time was when we first hung out and met each other back in February. We met on tumblr but she lived in Chicago so we just decided to meet in person. We went to the movies, saw Paprika, and she took me home. Second time was a while later back when I was still working as a concierge at my last job. This was probably in June since before we went him, she stopped somewhere to eat and then she took me home and stayed for a while. She was trying to teach me bout to drive and stuff and helped me set up my snap online and all that. She heavily insisted on picking me up from work even though I’d told her that it was fine multiple times because the train station was literally 4 minutes or so away from me in walking distance. It was raining and she was getting all frantic and freaking out like she usually does and I just gave in and said told her “sure.” The third time I was in her car was months later, which was at least 2 weeks ago? She took my sister and I grocery shopping (helped us out with grocery’s since it was taking forever for my snap to come) and my mom even tried to giver her almost 80 back but she ended up taking the $25 offered to her after my mom insisted. Last time I was in her car was last Friday when all of that shit went down lmfao. It’s funny since throughout all this time of knowing her, she’s always ask to hang out/pick me up and I’d always tell her that I was busy, too lazy, or tired since I was and she’d be super PUSHY about it but I know that she just wanted to be friendly and hang out and would always say stuff like “I’m good at breaking ppl down! I’m gonna get you one of these days,” but I really just never felt like it. I’m a homebody at heart 🚶🏾‍♀️. And I’m LAZY. Even hanging out one day takes a lot of energy out of me and it takes me days to recover from that, I’m not used to hanging out and seeing ppl everyday. I don’t even like talking to ppl over the phone everyday fr. But she’d always call because she knew that 9 times out of 10, I’d usually pick up anyway (that’s usually the only way to get me to respond immediately if you’re reaching out to me since I might read your texts or messages but I probably won’t respond right away since I be lazy or not charged up mentally 😭. But if I’m called, l’ll most likely pick up tbh) but the whole “well, you’re gonna have to send me some gas money or meet me somewhere-“ shit was funny since her ass never had a problem coming all this way because she was lonely or whatever tf on her own. Why should I give you gave money to pick up your own shit that you kept on forgetting to take back home with you? On Friday, my mom had even tried to get her to take her bag back with her but she was all like “no, we’re coming back anyway!” So girl, this is on your dumbass. Before I’d even had the chance to fully respond back to her, she blocked me on everything and threatened to take me to small claims court over her bag that she could’ve been picked up 😭. No one wants tour shit, trust me. It’s safe and sound here.

[joemama-2]

mr ito does NAWT know when to BACK THE FUCK OFFFFFF goddd i hate him 😭 im glad gojo put him in his place a little bit but damn i cant believe he keeps trying to assert himself in her space? as if he has any right to be in her business, acting like he is a factor in her family as her man or some shit its creepy as FUCK.

im also surprised she did not keel over during the day as her anxiety is sky rocketing like damn shes crazy strong i would not be able to go on as she did. but when satoru said she had no right to be angry... come on now what kind of bs???? her life got entirely turned UPSIDE DOWN within a goddamn WEEK!!! and everything she was afraid of has happened!!! everything she tried to protect koji from is suddenly a reality she has to deal with!!! she has every right to be angry wtf!!! i hate how everyone is making HER out to be the villain it makes me lividddd 😤😤😤😤 and everyone acting like she is not allowed to feel ANYTHING about it and is just supposed to shut up and take it??? i hope she bites everyones heads off for real and that harami girl or whoever too i KNOW she is about to attack her for No Goddamn Reason 😤😤😤😤😤 she tried to stay out of yalls life bitch she did not choose this ffs 😫 even satoru acting like none of her reasons for keeping koji out of his life were valid, when clearly THEY WERE!!!! AS FUCKING EVIDENCED!!!! IT TOOK A WEEEEEEK BITCH!!! A WEEK 😫😫😫😫😫

also what place are they staying at??? the same one the picture got taken in?? if i was gojo i would be moving out of there fr 😭 how did mei mei even manage to take a picture of them in that skyscraper... im thinking like someone posted up in the skyscraper across the street or there was some drone action, either way creepy af like that place is compromised gurl get out of therrrre 😫

i am ANXIOUS AS FUCK!!! READER BETTER HAVE SOMEONE IN HER CORNER SOON CUS I CANT TAKE IT ANYMOOOORE EVERYONE IS AGAINST HER 😭😭😭😭😭 (wink wink...satoru step the fuck UP) but fr it feels like the whole world is out to get her, why is everyone making her out to be such a bad person i really dont see it and it makes me want to fight everyone like a rabid dog 😭😭😤😤

hello! to answer the questions before i get into an analytical standpoint

1) gojo and reader and koji are staying at his penthouse (he’s stupid, yeah) BUT he has only put up large curtains the day he found out about the leak (even more stupid, and i was gonna write that in but eh LOL) he would have stayed at one of his other places, but considering the penthouse is closest to the office and his family/friends know where he is at, he’s decided this would be the temporary fix. also, keep in mind the public doesn’t know where his penthouse is, they just have the interior photo

2) gojo lives in a very metropolitan, rich, and just overall very nice area where the other buildings around his are equally as big. so meimei—i mean SOMEONE (lol) could’ve easily been hiding out from a distance buildings over on the rooftop (the drone tho? girl u hacking into my docs??)

3) mr. itos trying it but trust he’ll get his well deserved punishment

as for my analytical response:

gojo says things he shouldn’t and doesn’t mean, same for reader. it wasn’t his place to tell her not to be angry, but i think he also acknowledges that fact only after he said it. i think right now, it’s at the peak of all the shit happening to her so it’s very frustrating. but also remember, a lot of this is told in y/ns pov. public eye doesn’t know shit, so they’re bashing gojo but equally bashing y/n. and the fact that it took a week?? that’s what makes y/n even more mad cuz she was RIGHT. mothers know best.

and finally, she’ll have someone in her corner tho, don’t worry 😉😉

[nobedofroses]

December 11th

pairing: Jack Daniels x fem!reader

warnings: allusions to smut

words: 1k

a/n: part 2 of Jack where yes I use the no heat one bed thing again, but it's a classic for a reason, right? Jack no. 1 Directory December Writing

❄️❄️❄️

The resort Jack had been staying at said the roads would be cleared tomorrow. Or at least that’s what the county told them. It was frustrating that it had been a week, but you knew that it was hard for the few snowplows in your little town to keep up with plowing when it was snowing at least a foot everyday. Especially because they were more focused on getting the roads to the hospital and highway clear, not what was essentially a mile long driveway for three houses. Luckily, you and your neighbors were in close contact and all had plenty of food stocked in case of things like this, so you could always snowshoe over to them if you ran out of something. 

And maybe you’d be more frustrated if it weren’t for Jack. Jack, who was turning out to be someone incredibly funny and kind and thoughtful and well, you already knew he was incredibly handsome. Somehow this had turned into a really extended first date and you were really enjoying it. If either of you weren’t Jack could’ve been on his way with a couple hour but totally doable hike that you made sure to tell him about after the first night. But you didn’t kick him out and he didn’t ask for directions. 

The two of you didn’t spend literally all day together because you still had chores to do and since Jack didn’t want to be both an uninvited guest and burden he took over half of them. Then you had plenty of books to read separately and naps were a daily occurrence. Still, you did spend most of the day together. You somehow had great cooking chemistry, so it was fun to cook together instead of just annoying to have another person in your space. But Jack insisted on doing the dishes which you let him do while you kept the fire going strong and picked out a board game. Or sometimes you would watch TV together but you liked doing things that you could talk during. You were really loving getting to know him and he always seemed interested in what you had to say. 

There had been some affectionate touches and even a few kisses and one five-minute makeout session that had been interrupted by a phone call. But it made sense to take one part of this whole situation slowly since so much was happening all at once. 

Today though, tonight, you wanted to speed things up just a little. It was going to be Jack’s last night here after all and you might as well test your compatibility to see whether it was worth it to go on a real date. 

You decided that after dinner, instead of setting up a board game, you’d put music on and maybe light a few candles. Really set the mood. 

So you did, and it was going well because Jack was doing the dishes and you had gone to your room just to freshen up a little bit, but then you heard a strange sound. The sound of your heater just totally powering down. 

“Um, is that your heater?” Jack called to you from the other room. It was pretty clearly that and not something else because it had been running up to the point it shut off. 

You hurried out of your bedroom and over to the closet that held your heating system and found that it malfunctioned in exactly the same way it had malfunctioned a month ago. When you opted not to get the replacement part and hoped it would stop being an issue on its own. 

“Okay, it’s okay,” you told Jack who was standing beside you now. “The heat’s out but we have the wood stove and the electricity is still on so we don’t have to worry about that.” “But for how long? Are the roads going to open up and you’ll have to come and stay with me at the resort for a week?” Jack asked, half-joking. 

You smiled, “No, at least not because the heat’s broken. I know what’s wrong with it, I just have to pay to have it fixed which is what I was hoping to avoid.” 

Jack chuckled, “Well do you want me to get more wood from outside? I just finished up the dishes.” 

“Yeah, um, that’d be great. I’ll leave a message at the HVAC place,” you told him. 

A few minutes later, you were joining Jack outside to haul in some wood. It was more than you’d need for hours but it was better to have a surplus inside and keeping from getting damp. 

As the two of you set down the last load, Jack turned to you and said, “I’ve been thinking, what about the bedrooms?” 

He had a point. While you could easily heat the connected living room and kitchen with the wood stove, it wouldn’t reach the bedrooms very well even with their doors open. You had kind of planned to sleep on your couch so it was easier to feed the fire, but that didn’t account for Jack. You looked around the space and tried to think of a solution. 

One came to you that might just solve everything at once. “Do you think if we moved the coffee table and pushed the couch back we could fit the spare bedroom’s mattress here on the floor?” 

Jack looked at the space and then at you and then smiled, “Yeah, I think it’ll fit perfectly.” 

__

It turned out that there was more than one perfect thing tonight. Like how perfectly natural it was to cuddle up with Jack on the mattress and talk and listen to music. Then how perfectly easy it was to lean in and kiss him. How perfect his lips fit against yours and how his hands became perfectly acquainted with your body. 

The way he felt with his fingers, tongue, and then cock inside of you was pretty perfect too but maybe the most perfect of the whole night was how perfectly safe you felt being in his arms, held close.

❄️❄️❄️

[rorywritesjunk]

Down in the dark where the waves won't go, I'm bound to find my way.

Sunny and Buggy disagree over the next steps of their life together leading to them spending time apart.

Rating: PG-13 to be safe for swearing and arguing. Warning: Each chapter will have a specific warning. This one has the couple fighting and disagreeing. Talk of starting a family. Buggy is a jerk and Sunny is stubborn. Word Count: 2,647 A/N: The direct sequel to "No locked upon land...", the fic that started it all. I do not use "You" in this as now that Sunny is an established OC I decided not to go that route. This will be several chapters. Originally (lol) it was just two parts but... but I had to expand but I don't expect it to go much longer than the original fic.

Title comes from "Sailing Song" by S.J. Tucker

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Epilogue Taglist (only because you seem to express interest on these posts, let me know if you want to be removed!): @hey-august @lostfirefly

Chapter 1

Buggy was wondering if his hearing was going or maybe his ears were full of wax. Maybe all those years of cannons and Buggy Balls finally took their toll on him because he wasn’t sure what he heard his lovely wife just say to him. She had brought him lunch wearing one of her cute dresses - a bright yellow one with orange accents embroidered on. She had her hair down, framing her face, and if Buggy didn’t have to take a shift at the helm he would have made sure to let her know how prettier the dress would look on the floor of his office.

But then she said something as she was putting the plate down and he… he wasn’t sure he completely understood what she said.

“What didja say, babe?” He asked as he took a bite of the sandwich she made. “I don’t think I heard ya.”

She sat down next to him and reached over to hold his hand. She made him such a big sandwich that he needed both hands to eat, but this seemed important so he reluctantly set the sandwich down and let her hold his hand.

“Honey, I love you.”

“I… love you too.” He said, frowning at her words as she gave his hand a squeeze. What was going on? Why was she acting so weird? Was this her way of finally asking for a divorce after all this time? Was she finally throwing in the towel with him? He accidentally kicked her while they were both sleeping last night, but that couldn’t be it, could it? “Babe, look, I’m sorry-”

“Buggy, I’m ready to have a baby.” She smiled. “Or several, I’m not picky.”

“-about-” He stopped, the words entering one ear and out the other. Kids? Why the hell would she want kids? She knew what he was like as a kid, why would she want to raise that? He stared at her, mouth hanging open, before he pulled his hand back and started laughing. “Is this a joke?!”

“No?” Sunny frowned. “I’m being serious.”

“Why the hell would you want to have kids?!” He asked frantically. “Kids with me?! Why?! You saw what I was like, why the hell would you want to deal with that for years and years?!”

She half expected this and she knew how he could get when he was panicky. This would blow over. He had even made an offhand comment a few weeks ago about how having a kid might be nice to carry on his legacy someday. He certainly enjoyed the process.

“Buggy-”

“What’s wrong with you?!” He asked. “That’s a dumb thing to want!”

She crossed her arms and waited for him to calm down. He had pulled his hand away, shaking his head, chattering on how they weren’t ready, it wasn’t the right time, raising a kid on the ship would be horrible, and why would she want a kid with him? She knew that any kid they had could come out looking like him: big red nose in the middle of their face. Why would she want that?

“Should we talk about this later, Buggy?” She asked. He shook his head.

“No! Never! We’re not having kids!” He told her, voice high pitched, almost squawking. “That’s a terrible idea, babe! One of the dumbest ideas I've ever heard!”

Sunny frowned and sat back in her chair. She didn’t expect him to talk to her like that. Maybe she needed to try again later, but what kind of reaction was that? Then again, why was she surprised he was acting over the top? It was very much like him to overreact at times, but his words hurt. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up to leave but his hand grabbed her wrist. He was looking up at her and she wondered if maybe he would think about it.

“Can you bring me a drink since you’re getting up, babe?” He asked with a grin. “Pleeeease?”

She clenched her jaw and pulled away from him, nodding as she tried to fight back the tears. She managed to keep it together until she left and went to the kitchen.

~

Sunny had hoped to try and talk to him about it again at bedtime but her feelings were hurt. It might not be the best time. He must have forgotten about their lunchtime conversation because he crawled right into bed next to her, wrapping himself around her and giving her a big kiss on the cheek.

“I love you~” He told her with a grin as he nuzzled her cheek. “You looked so cute in that dress today, babe.”

Well, at least it kind of did the trick. “Yea? Was it cute when you hurt my feelings?”

“I did what?” He looked at her funny. “When? What did I say?”

“Buggy, I told you I wanted to have a baby.” She reminded him. “I’m ready to be a mom.”

Buggy stared at her. He had hoped maybe it was a flight of fancy, that it was something she would have forgotten about. They had talked about kids long ago when they first got married, both agreeing that it wasn’t time, but as time went on and other things came up, he was certain he was never going to be ready. After being in charge of himself as a child for a few days with her a few months ago, he was certain he would never be capable of being a father.

“Yea, well, what if I’m not?! We’re still young!” Buggy insisted as he pulled away from her. “We… we got time, you know, why do you want to rush this? We haven't been married that long!”

“We’ve been married 11 years.” Sunny reminded him. “We’re not getting any younger.” 

“We’re not ready.” Buggy shook his head.

“I think we are.” She insisted.

“It’s a terrible idea!” Buggy told her. “Us being parents is the dumbest thing I can think of, you know!” He scooted away from her on the bed and crossed his arms. “We’re not having kids. They’ll ruin my plans.”

Sunny stared at him, feeling the tears well up in her eyes again. “Your plans? What about mine, Buggy? I’ve done so much for your plans, you know, ever since I met you! I’m asking just one thing from you!”

“That one thing that is a lifetime commitment!” Buggy shot back. “We’re not having kids and that’s it!” He huffed in frustration and laid down on the bed, frowning up at her as she looked away from him. “Don’t pout, babe. Go to bed. You want a baby so bad maybe I can get you a tiger cub so Richie can have a friend.”

Sunny wiped at her eyes and sniffed, saying nothing to him as she stayed sitting up. He rolled his eyes. He knew she’d get over it in a few days, hell probably even by tomorrow. He reached over to touch her arm, wanting to cuddle, but she jerked away from him and climbed out of bed.

“Where are you going? It’s bedtime, babe!” He said as he watched her slip on a pair of boots and grab a jacket. “You’re in your pajamas!”

“I need to walk around the ship.” She told him. “I-I need to think, Buggy.”

“Babe, it’s dark out there. Think tomorrow.” He sighed, rolling his eyes again. “I’m serious about getting you a tiger cub. That would be so much better than a kid.”

“Shut up, Buggy.” She snapped at him, catching him off guard as she stalked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He sat in bed, surprised that she actually left. He figured she would have stayed in the room.

~

Sunny not talking to him was one of the worst things Buggy ever endured. He spent one week early in their marriage getting the cold shoulder from her and a week had passed since she brought up having kids and she wouldn’t speak to him, not even look at him. He felt she was overreacting to this but he had a surprise for her to make her talk to him again and forget about the idea of ever having kids. He planned a route to swing by the place where they first met, go to the lake where he professed his love to her, and bring her some duck feed. That’s all it would take for her to apologize and insist that Buggy was right all along and that having kids was dumb.

It took them a few days to get there and Buggy kept trying to talk to her, dropping some hints about what he was up to, but she just ignored him. He stomped his foot at one point when she walked right past him after he tried to flirt with her while she was carrying a laundry basket.

“Will you stop ignoring me?!” He whined. “Babe, come on! I got something fun planned for us!”

Sunny stopped, her shoulders drooping as she turned to look at him. Buggy froze, staring at her as he gulped. She wasn’t smiling at him which was upsetting. There was no sparkle in her eye, no happiness in her voice when she spoke. She just… she looked depressed.

“Babe?”

“What, Buggy?” She asked with a sigh. “I’m busy.”

“Oh yea? Too busy to go on a date with me in a few days?” He asked, feeling a dagger to his heart at her just saying his name. She hadn’t been calling him ‘honey’ at all since that argument in the bedroom. Using just his name was hurtful. He at least kept using his nickname for her. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

She just shrugged, shifting the basket from one hip to the other. Buggy rubbed his nose and looked away. It was a little weird to him to see that, reminding of when she carried the kid a few times when he had been upset or tired. She looked natural in those moments and admittedly, Buggy had thought maybe they could do it, raise a kid together, have the flashiest brat on all the seas, but just the fear of something going wrong, something happening to Sunny, was enough for him to not want her to go through with it.

“Do I have to?” She asked. His jaw dropped and he stomped his foot again, clenching his fists. “It doesn't sound fun right now.”

“Yes! I’m the Captain and I order you to go on a date with me!” He told her angrily. “And it’s going to be romantic and you’ll have fun, understand?! You’ll forget your stupid idea of having kids and realize I was right for once!”

She stared at him before turning away and heading to their bedroom. Buggy hated that she walked away like that without talking to him, so he added, “Wear that cute pink dress of yours, okay?”

Sunny said nothing and disappeared into their bedroom.

~

Buggy gave her instructions on what to do, where to go, and what she should wear while they had a breakfast of plain toast and cold bacon. She didn’t have it in her to cook which bothered Buggy. She always cooked the best breakfasts for him but since their fight it had just been… soggy plain toast and cold, greasy bacon. He complained once and after a steely look from her in which she said he could cook his own food next time, he didn't say anything else.

Was his marriage over? 

If that was the case, he really had to make sure she remembered why they were in love with each other, that he made her laugh and that she took care of him. Buggy had to make sure his wife didn’t leave him and that she remembered how much she loved Buggy and how much he loved her. They didn’t need to have kids to be happy, they had each other, and if Buggy tried, he could send Mohji out to find Sunny a pet or something to take care of.

He made sure to look his absolute best for this: he shined his shoes, the buttons on his jacket, made sure his clothes were clean, and that his makeup looked fresh. He looked at himself in the mirror, grinning and looking smug as he struck a few poses, winking at himself in the mirror. Sunny was going to love seeing him looking his best. He even wore the cravat she gifted him on his birthday after they first met. She would see that and would realize how much he loved her and that she was being silly for getting upset.

He put Mohji in charge before heading out. He made Sunny leave earlier after getting ready. She didn’t put up a fight which he was pleased with. He had heard that her old boss was about to retire so he suggested she dress up and visit the old hag. He ignored how she glared at him calling Miss Pins that, but she left without a fight.  She even wore the dress he wanted to see her in as well as some jewelery.

He had a picnic basket in one hand and a bag of duck feed in the other as he waited by the lake for her. He set things down and crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug at his plan. It definitely had to work. She would show up, impressed he remembered these details, and apologize to him for suggesting they have kids. 

Five minutes passed after their agreed upon time. Buggy figured the old hag was talking Sunny’s ear off.

Ten minutes and he wondered if he needed to go rescue her.

Fifteen and… she was coming, right, maybe she got lost?

Twenty minutes and he noticed a little girl wandering around the shelter he and Sunny had to take cover in when he told him how he felt all those years ago during a downpour. 

Twenty five minutes passed and the little girl noticed him, smiling brightly as she walked over to him. He stiffened up, looking around to see if she had any other adult she could go talk to, but why was she coming to talk to him?

“Are you a clown?” She asked with a big smile. “I love clowns! They’re so funny! Can you do any tricks?”

“W-Where are your parents, kid?! You don’t just walk up to strangers and ask them that!” Buggy scolded her as he tried to spot any other adult in the area. It was just the two of them. “Go away, my wife is gonna come and we have a date!”

“Ohh.” The little girl looked around. Buggy wasn’t good at ages, but he wondered if maybe she was around 10 or so. She looked around the same size as the kid, maybe a little shorter. “Um… I don’t… I don’t know where my mama and papa are.”

“Well, go find them!” Buggy insisted, giving her a little shove. “I can’t be distracted, now beat it!”

Her little head kept swiveling around, trying to see if she could spot one of her parents. Her blonde hair was pulled back into two braids with little clasps securing them that had two green stones on them. She had freckles on her face, bright eyes filled with tears, and as she looked up at Buggy, sniffling loudly as it dawned on her that her parents weren’t around, he wondered what he just got himself into.

“W-What’s your name, kid?”

She sniffled, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to dry her eyes. “M-My name’s Sunny and… and I’m lost!”

She began to cry and Buggy started to panic. This would be the perfect time for his Sunny to walk up and fix everything.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Hey y’all guess what?!? :) it’s time for a new episode of Bedtime Stories With PCE!!!

Who ordered some old man yaoi? That’s right, this one is set right after If Heaven And Hell Decide, with a sick Kyle, worried Stan, the best little immortal cat of all time, adding injury to illness, two middle aged men being massive fantasy dorks, all that goodness. Very sorry to my favorite arthritic ginger it will happen again, very sorry to his extremely concerned husband.

And y’all. I’m dedicating this to the Sickfic Queen herself, @alwaysinstyle who consistently kicks ass and gets stoked about style taking care of each other with me. Ana I love you so much and I’m so proud of you. All the people in your corner, we have you covered.

Also OFC the rest of the RANT homies have been subjected to random snippets of this over the past 2 weeks or so (jesus my sadsack ass needs to get some motivation back how has it been two weeks) but hey I will always be obnoxious when the mood strikes me and this long ass monstrosity is FINALLY done!!! Thank y’all fr for putting up with me.

Here’s •Well, That Would Be Pretty Odd•

A subtle knock at the door drew Stan’s attention and Kyle from uneasy rest. His husband’s head lolled exhaustively in his hand, still drained of energy and, according to the screen displaying his vitals, running a pretty high fever. Stan kept one arm protectively over him and turned to the door. “Yeah?”

The doctor entered, shutting the door behind her. “Hey, guys, how are we doing in here?”

Kyle pulled up slowly, clearly emotional, like he always got when he was sick. “Can I go home yet? Moose needs me.”

“Our cat,” Stan explained. “He’s worried he scared our cat.”

“I did.”

“Scared the hell out of your husband, too, sick as you are. It says on the chart you guys filled out that your blood sugar was low enough to potentially trigger a seizure. If he hadn’t acted as fast as he did, you’d be even worse off than you are.”

Kyle slumped back into Stan. “He always rescues me,” he murmured.

Stan felt like crying. “I’m your knight when you need me, dude.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, what’re we working with here? Stomach flu, dehydration, complications because of the diabetes, all that, right?”

“Right. Kyle, we have you on antivirals and fluids via IV for now, and I know you’re eager to get home-“

“-he hates hospitals-“

“-I hate hospitals.”

The doctor smiled kindly, even after getting interrupted. Stan liked her. “We’re keeping you overnight at least, but if your vitals are still stable and your fever is less than 102, we can send you home.”

Stan knew Kyle appreciated being the one addressed about his own health. This doctor could read the room, that’s for sure. Kyle nodded tiredly, eyes closed.

“How about when we go home? What’s the plan?” Stan inquired, tired as fuck himself but making an exception for Ky, always.

“Fluids, rest, anything with nutritional value that can stay down. Your friend in the waiting room mentioned orange juice as you guys’ go-to when Kyle’s having trouble with blood sugar? And he said you’re always diligent about keeping an eye on his health.” She was definitely addressing Stan now, since Kyle had clearly relinquished responsibility for the time being, knowing Stan had him covered. Hell yeah he did. “Any further complications; if you catch the bug too and can’t take care of him, another bad sugar drop or fever spike, and you guys come right back here. But at this point, it’s looking like this is something manageable from home, fingers crossed.”

And Stan had every finger crossed. He’d take care of Kyle, just like Kyle took care of him. Even if he was kind of scared as fuck, not having seen him quite this sick since maybe college. Or even when they were kids and he needed kidney surgery. He bit the panic down. Kyle was okay.

“Gotcha. I can spend the night? Spousal rights and everything?”

“You won’t convince him not to stay if you say no,” was Kyle’s muffled reply.

The doctor laughed. “I won’t make you leave. The last thing I want is either of you worked up, especially you, Kyle. If you need your husband with you to be comfortable-“

“-mhm-“

“-that’s not a problem in my book.” She tapped her clipboard with long fingernails. “There’s a call button on the bed if you need anything between the nurses checks, and I’ll tell your friend he’s free to go. He isn’t allowed back here, I’m afraid, but I can also let him know he can be the one to pick you up in the morning, if that’s what you two want?”

Kyle mumbled something that sounded like “like a good neighbor, Tucker is there” to the tune of the state farm insurance jingle. The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he’s pretty delirious, alright.” A couple quick checks to Kyle’s IV line and heartbeat monitor, and she was gesturing for Stan to lay his half asleep husband back down. “You boys get some rest. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks,” Stan whispered, letting Kyle nuzzle into his chest as she left the room. Once they were alone in the darkened space, he kissed him softly on the top of the head. Kyle was a space heater. But if the hospital staff wasn’t alarmed, they were okay. “I’ve got you, baby, just sleep.”

The next morning, Kyle improved enough to leave and discharge paperwork done, they faced the problem of actually getting the sick man home.

Stan waved off the nurse’s offered wheelchair and stubbornly picked Kyle up because like hell was he losing even a second of contact. That and he took pride in the fact that he was in his 40s and still able to carry his husband.

“Sir, there’s procedure…”

Kyle snorted from where his head was against Stan’s shoulder, coherent enough to be aware but still too weak to insist on, god forbid, trying to walk on his own. “Believe me, ma’am, there’s no way in hell you’re convincing this guy not to carry me. Losing battle, mark my worms- words.”

Someone needed to be home in bed.

The nurse sighed, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth argument. Thank God, because Kyle could out argue anyone normally, but he was fucking tired.

“Just sing me home again, Orpheus,” he murmured into his husband’s ear.

Stan laughed at the reference. “Alright, ma’am, so if we’re all set….”

“Yes, yes, you can go. Hope you feel better.”

Kyle only had a vague recollection of both Stan and Craig yelling at the hospital staff when they brought him in, which was kind of funny to think about. Craig didn’t get worked up about things easily, and Stan was as gentle as they came. But it was nice to know his friend and his partner were willing to act so out of character for his sake. He muttered a “hey, spaceman” in greeting when Stan lowered him into the back of Craig’s car, mid morning sun forcing him to keep his eyes closed.

Craig barked a short laugh, pulling from the parking lot when both his passengers were settled for the short drive. “Someone’s feeling better.”

“I’ll get him set to rights, kick the plague’s ass,” Stan said, softly kissing his husband’s still too warm forehead. “Thanks for picking us up, dude. And for last night.”

“No biggie,” Craig shrugged nonchalantly. “Someone had to keep a level head and it sure as hell wasn’t gonna be either of you.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong there. Craig was probably the least prone to getting over emotional person Stan had ever met.

Craig’s husband, however, was the exact opposite. Upon getting home and getting up to bed, Kyle could faintly hear the frantic voice of Tweek downstairs, bringing Moose back from spending the night over at apartment two.

Kyle was nauseous, not to the point that he had been, but nauseous all the same, waiting for Stan to be done retrieving their cat and filling Kyle’s water. He felt weak as shit, and sweaty, which was probably a reasonably good indicator of his fever coming down, but it fucking sucked. And he was going to need some soup or something in him soon so his blood sugar didn’t get so bad again, which was another thing that sucked, because why do flesh prisons require so much maintenance? Why did his body require so much to function.

He didn’t realize tears were flowing until Stan entered the bedroom, hands full with the water, a KMBS, and one of those bottled protein drinks that tasted like chalk. Moose was quick to jump up and pad softly over to him, big blue eyes so worried and sweet as he curled up beside him. Kyle’s two blue eyed boys.

The second of whom was setting the drinks on the bedside table. There was a straw in each, so Kyle wouldn’t have to move as much to drink. It made him cry harder.

“Shhh, dude, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Stan climbed onto his side and grabbed the juice, holding it to Kyle’s lips. “I know you don’t feel good, that’s okay. I’ve got you. Go slow, okay?”

Kyle complied, the sharp taste of salted orange juice helping both physically and mentally. Plus, it’s hard to drink something and cry at the same time, so his breathing was a little less sporadic. A few sips were all he managed before his stomach started rolling, and he shook his head. Stan understood, setting the cup down and pulling Kyle’s face into his chest. “Just sleep, baby. I’m gonna have to check your temperature and levels in about an hour, but just sleep until then, alright?”

“Mhm.”

Stan would take care of him. Kyle would put up a fight, when he had the strength to, but Stan knew from experience that he’d be ‘secretly’ loving being cared for.

The husbands had a couple favorite positions to hold each other in. They’d hold the other from behind, arms wrapped around and poised to kiss an exposed nape or shoulder as a reminder of their presence. They would entangle themselves like they were doing now, they’d let the other’s head rest on their legs, Kyle would perch himself in Stans lap or Stan would drape over him like a blanket. Holding each other was safe. And in this moment Stan wrapped protectively around his sick partner like it was his sacred duty, one hand cradling Kyle’s head from underneath, fingers gently rubbing his hair, the other arm tucking him firmly against himself, feeling Moose’s purrs vibrating where the cat had claimed his place against Kyle’s back, right below the place Stan’s arm was wrapped around.

Stan glanced at the nightstand clock, keeping watch for the next time they’d need to wake up for a check in. About an hour and he’d get the thermometer to make sure they were still headed in the right direction, check Kyle’s levels, make them both something for, well, he supposed lunch at this point, and call the clinic to let his coworkers know that he’d be out a few days for a family emergency. He’d have to let Kyle’s work know too, before his husband tried to go into school still unwell.

Fitfully, Kyle dozed, sweating in his sleep, which Stan knew damn well he’d complain about when he woke up, but personally, he didn’t mind holding a miniature sun, because it was Kyle. Overheated, but still Kyle.

It hadn’t quite been an hour, but the warmth was starting to concern him. He gently kissed the top of his husband’s head, encouraging him to stir.

“Dude, hey.”

Kyle let out a tired whine as indication that he was awake.

“I know, baby. I just need to check your temperature and then you can go back to sleep.”

“I can check my own damn temperature,” Kyle protested, rolling over onto his back when Stan relinquished his grasp around his beloved. He scowled. “I’m all sweaty.”

Stan chuckled lowly. Was he right or was he right. “Gimme a second.”

Upon getting the thermometer and finding that they were still going in the right direction, Stan relaxed slightly. He let Kyle check both his temperature and blood sugar by himself, because it wasn’t worth the impending argument and the last thing he wanted was to make his husband feel helpless. Fever was down, but he definitely needed something to eat soon.

“Dude, do you think you can handle something solid, or you wanna keep sticking with drinks?”

Kyle hadn’t puked in a while, so he felt like maybe something simple, easy on the stomach, would be okay. As much as he wanted to keep going with the safe option of juice and a protein shake, he wouldn’t get better without something substantial in him and he knew it. “I can try. No promises.”

“You don’t need to promise anything,” Stan insisted, leaning down to kiss him on the way out of bed. “But I have an idea, if you’re okay by yourself for a few minutes.”

“Moose is with me. I’m not by myself,” Kyle remarked with a sleepy smile.

Stan snorted and went to change into jeans, last night’s pajamas not exactly ideal attire for walking to the BBQ place a block over. Kyle was weird about food sometimes, but Brendan’s mac and cheese was a simple, safe, Kyle approved bet. He’d probably want it to get cold first like he usually did (weirdo), but sick Kyle was sort of a wild card. They’d see.

“I’ll be back in fifteen, dude, drink some water.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Kyle heard the door close downstairs, slowly reaching for his water at the bedside, one hand resting on their cat’s head. Moose was stretched out along his side, fluffy tail dangling off the side of the mattress.

“You sleepy too, young nastyman?” Kyle asked, setting the bottle down and closing his eyes. Moose purred in response.

Apparently he’d drifted off again, waking up to the rustle of a takeout bag and a strong, smoky smell.

Kyle clapped a hand over his mouth. Ordinarily the smell of brisket and ribs wouldn’t bother him, but in his half asleep state, smelling meat on Stan of all people…

“…Dude?”

“FUCKING CHANGE!” Kyle screeched, staggering up to run to the bathroom, tears in his eyes because the bbq place smell all over his vegetarian husband was wrong and disorienting and he hated being sick and fevers made him sensitive and an asshole and-

Falling hard in front of the toilet, he felt his knee go out. The cherry on top of the fucking cake while his stomach tried to escape his body. Kyle cried out in pain, which was cut off immediately by a wave of sick splashing into the porcelain while he attempted to move and take the weight off his left leg, shaking and already crying because he was pissed and it hurt and he couldn’t catch a damn break. Dry heaving and spluttering, he collapsed tiredly into the alcove between the toilet and the cabinets, one trembling arm draped over the seat and the other hand clutching his knee, eyes shut tightly against the light and the nausea and pain.

“Ky, hey, hey, oh, fuck, baby, shit, did you twist your knee? Okay, you’re okay, hold on-“

Kyle leaned over to retch again, choking out “YOU SMELL WRONG” because that’s all he could manage between gasps.

Stan yanked his shirt off and threw it through the open door into the hallway, past where Moose was watching with wide eyes from the threshold. “Okay, I’m sorry, is that better? Here.” He gently eased Kyle’s hand away from his leg, carefully straightening it out. “God, yeah, it’s already swelling.”

“WHY do I have to LIVE IN THIS GODDAMN FLESH PRISON?!?” Kyle slammed his fist against the floor, frustrated beyond belief. Stan caught his hand before he could do it again.

“Shh, Ky, c’mon. You’re okay, it’s fine.”

Seeing his husband like this, sick, aggravating his bad knee mid vomit, broke Stan’s heart. But he had him. He had him and wouldn’t let go. Was that dramatic? Absolutely. But when the fuck was he not dramatic about Kyle’s health?

“THAT FUCKING STUPID ASS NURSE!” Kyle was yelling. “Sending me sick kids, thinking they were just trying to get out of class, that BITCH!”

“Baby, dude, calm down, man, breathe.”

“YOU’RE ONE TO FUCKING TALK!”

Alright, point to Kyle. Stan sighed as Kyle heaved over the toilet again, expelling nothing but water. They really needed to get something in him before he wound up needing the hospital again. Stan gently rubbed his husband’s back as he hiccuped and cried, clearly feeling betrayed by his body. A few minutes of heavy breathing, and Kyle was pulling back up. “I- I think I’m d-done.”

“Alright dude, I’m gonna get you up now, that okay?”

“Mhm”

Very, very carefully, Stan hauled Kyle from the floor, mindful not to move his knee too much and going slow in case of another bout of nausea. Moose trotted into the bedroom after his dads, obviously distressed seeing Kyle cry and immediately curling back up against the redhead when Stan set him down.

Stan was honestly a little nauseous himself, because Kyle’s frustrated tears never failed to make him emotional too. But he knew what to do here, he reminded himself. Fever was coming down, leg flare up was pretty routine, Kyle would rant it out if he had to and Stan would be his yes-man, and liquids were probably going to be the staple for the rest of the day.

He rolled up a throw blanket and propped it under Kyle’s leg, taking some strain off the irritated joint and kissing his husband’s kneecap when he did so. “You want ice, babe?”

“Yes I want fucking ice,” Kyle mumbled, arms draped over his eyes.

Stan could admit to enjoying taking care of Kyle when he fucked up his knee; pissed off Kyle was cute. “Aw, baby, I got you.” He grabbed the takeout bag from the nightstand too, not knowing if the bbq smell was lingering there too. “I’ll stick this in the fridge for when you want something solid, okay? How ‘bout another Ensure?”

Kyle grumbled something inaudible that Stan took as a yes. Poor thing was so upset. But he had every right to be, and Stan would never be annoyed at him for that.

Downstairs, he debated making his husband a smoothie, but the blender was loud, and his head probably already hurt from throwing up. Instead, he just grabbed an ice pack and a shake (strawberry, still gross but the flavor Kyle hated the least), taking the time to scribble out the nutrition information, just in case. That practice was pretty much habit at this point; he’d started ripping off or crossing out the calories on food for Kyle when they were fourteen, when his favorite person was recovering from his eating disorder, and even if he’d been more than fine for a longgggg time, Stan was prone to reverting to the past. When Kyle wasn’t okay, for whatever reason, food lore got crossed out.

“Dude, you up?”

“Mm”

“Shit, babe.” Stan knelt by the bed to carefully apply the ice, reaching a hand up to thumb away a falling tear. “You just mad?”

“Fucking pissed,” Kyle moaned. “It’s not enough that I have the goddamn plague?!? I have to have to fuck my leg up too? My parents are, like twice our age and even they don’t have fucking arthritis!” Kyle pointed two middle fingers to the ceiling as a ‘fuck you’ to god, which was actually pretty funny, but Stan didn’t laugh. That would only make his husband madder.

“Ky, c’mon.” Stan cupped under his head to kiss his cheek, relishing in the subtle smile that action brought. “And your parents didn’t shred tendons and refuse to do physical therapy.”

“I am damn well aware my goddamn arthritis is my own fault, Staniel.” But he sighed contentedly, adjusting the ice pack before leaning back against the pillows. “That helps. I’m sorry.”

Declaring the anger over for now, Stan climbed into bed beside him. “Don’t be sorry, dude. How’s your stomach?”

“I don’t fucking feel good.”

“I know, dude, can you drink a little water? We have to keep you hydrated.”

“It’ll just come back up.”

“Not necessarily.”

Moose crawled up between his dads, small furry head on Kyle’s shoulder, knowing he needed comfort. Kyle rubbed his face on the cat. “Babyman, did I scare you last night? I did, huh?”

“Dude,” Stan started, “he’s fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. Drink something and don’t move your leg.”

“I didn’t shred my tendons, by the way.” Kyle protested. “I just tore some shit a little.”

“Enough that it’s a problem even now.”

“See, you get it.”

Stan laughed. “Quit being a dick and go to sleep, baby. You know you’ll feel better. I’m right here, dude, whatever you need.”

“I’m not being a dick, I’m being contrary.”

“Same difference.”

“Mm.”

God, poor Kyle, pissed off, sick, having a flare up on top of everything else. “Dude, what do you need?”

“Leg hurts.”

“We have a pack on it, dude. Maybe some ibuprofen? You should take some for the fever anyway.”

“It hurts.”

Stan started to gently rub his partner’s knee. “I know, babe. I know it’s hurting.”

“I hit it on the floor.”

“I know you did.”

“Fuck this shit.”

Kyle knew he was being a total dramatic asshole, but he didn’t care. God had fucked him over; he could be a dick. That made sense. “I’m mad, dude.”

“That’s okay.”

And no he didn’t have the right to be mad. Stan was being so sweet. Always. Any time Kyle’s meat suit betrayed him and he got upset about it, Stan was there, doting and adorable as ever. “I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep.”

“Something bad’s gonna happen.”

“Oh, dude.” Stan wrapped around him, carefully. “We’re not OCD spiraling. We’re not. A little rest, alright?”

In actuality, Kyle was too tired to argue.

It had to have been a few hours when Stan felt Kyle stir against his chest, swinging over to get out of bed… and promptly falling with a loud “FUCK!”

“Ky?”

“I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT MY GODDAMN LEG!!!”

Stan sprang off the bed then too, getting on the floor beside his hyperventilating husband. “Dude, shhh, okay, okay, straighten it out.”

Sobbing, Kyle did. “D-don’t, freak, okay? I moved it weird, that’s all.”

“It’s fine, dude. Look at me. I’m not freaking out.” He was just doing a good job hiding it. Stan hated seeing Kyle cry, emotional, probably still feverish and nauseated, trying to get up in the middle of the night and falling on his knee, just the perfect storm of fucked up shit. But Kyle needed to stay calm, above all else. “What did you need, dude? Let me help you.”

“Water,” Kyle mumbled dejectedly.

“And guess what? You have me for that.” Stan carefully felt around his husband’s leg. “Can I turn a light on?”

Kyle responded by throwing up into the trash can, which had Stan gagging too. Fuck. Honestly, he was surprised he lasted so long without sympathy puking. “Hold on, baby.”

Stan rushed to the bathroom to empty his own stomach, somehow only just noticing that he still hadn’t put a shirt on from earlier. And Kyle hadn’t said anything about him wearing “outside pants” in bed, either, which was probably the best indicator of how sick he was.

Flushing down the panic induced vomit, Stan stood and glared at his reflection while he rinsed his mouth out, gulping a few handfuls of water from the sink. He had to keep it together. He needed a plan. Okay. Get Kyle back in bed, check his temperature and blood sugar, go downstairs to fill up his water and feed Moose, go from there.

Kyle had curled up on the floor back in the bedroom, and Moose had the zoomies. Stan sighed.

“Dude, okay, let’s get up.”

“Moving sucks ass.”

“I know it does, babe, but the bed is better than the floor.”

“Quit being right,” Kyle mumbled, allowing himself to be helped back under the covers. Stan snagged his readers from the nightstand, flipping on the lamp and grabbing the thermometer too.

“Okay, melmë, let’s see.”

Kyle smiled a little. “You look like a dad.”

“I am a dad,” he reminded him. Even if he’d bemoaned needing reading glasses and his body getting softer with age, his sentimental side was happy he had made it this far in life, especially with Kyle at his side. “Our son is bouncing off the walls as we speak. Open.”

Down to 100.3, thank whoever the fuck was up there. Maybe he should be thanking Kyle’s God, not having any attachment to one of his own. When he’d first started AA and found that part of the whole thing was putting things in the hands of a higher power, he had posed the question of what to do if you weren’t particularly religious to his sponsor. Mark had said “hell, put your faith in the doorknob if you want. Got you in here, didn’t it?”

“What’s the damage?” Kyle inquired.

“Definitely better. You want to check your levels or can I?”

Kyle slowly opened his eyes. “I got it, sweetheart, you’ve been doing so much.”

“Because I want to.”

“I’m difficult.”

Stan brought Kyle’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. “It so isn’t your fault that you got sick, or that you hurt your knee, or that you have diabetes. In sickness and in health, right?” Kyle’s fond grin only grew, and Stan decided to let up on the overbearingness. He snatched Moose up quickly on the cat’s next lap around the room. “I’m filling your water and feeding the dragon, okay? Be right back.”

So he had sweat out most of the fever, it seemed like. Judging by how sticky he felt, Kyle was fairly certain he was over the worst. At least in terms of the fucking stomach flu. His leg was a different story.

It was dim in the bedroom with only a sliver of moonlight slipping through the window, and the soft light from the lamp, but he could feel that he’d aggravated his knee pretty bad. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. The cartilage felt like it was grinding when he shifted. Kyle groaned in frustration, debating trying to hop over to the closet for his brace, but deciding against it, because Stan would flip his lid if he saw him standing. And considering what his blood sugar was at, being vertical was a bad idea anyway.

Said husband returned to the room. “I come bearing gifts for the king!”

Dork. Freshly refilled water, a KMBS, sleeve of crackers. Stan presented the juice. “Your elixir, melda târ. And-“ he beelined for the top of the closet, clearly having read Kyle’s mind.

“Thank you, my most dutiful and trusted of knights.” Kyle let him secure the knee brace, watching as those careful, strong, gentle hands worked, as Stan leaned down to kiss his leg when he was done. His Stan. His sweet Sir Marshwalker.

“Oh, shit, dude, are you crying? Does it hurt that much?” Stan was up by his face again. Kyle shook his head.

“It’s not that; I just- I really fucking love you,” he sobbed.

“Aw, baby, come here.” Stan climbed into bed and wrapped around him again, avoiding touching his husband’s stomach or leg. A little jingle of Moose’s collar announced their boy’s return to the bedroom, a tiny *prrrt* as the cat settled back at Kyle’s side. “You’re not as warm as you were, Ky, I think you’re getting better. That’s good, my love, you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Kyle murmured against him, damp eyelashes tickling Stan’s chest. “You still don’t have a shirt on.”

Stan laughed. So he had noticed. “You complaining?”

“You know I’m not.”

[grumpybunny-edith]

Gwen's Bunny HRT - Month 1 (Part 2)

I learned this trick a little while ago for smiling at the camera: just think about something that makes you laugh. I didn’t have to work very hard to find something - everything Rae had just said had left me smiling maybe too much. I turn on my camera, turn my head to show off my ever-so-slightly longer ear, and make it a point to let my teeth sit on my lip, even as my first impulse was to hide them. 

Opening the chat, I saw the last thing sent — it was a selfie from Delilah, her cheeks and chin covered in long, grayish-black fur. 

thebuildingisonfire: Decided not to shave for the last couple days. Feels good. 🔥

It looks good too. Combined with the changes to her face shape giving her more of a snout, she’s starting to look more like Rae and Ashley than Edith and I. If that’s even a rational comparison to begin with. I do my best to stop comparing myself to my friends (again) and start typing.

wen-kutesuli: Hey everyone! Rae reminded me today was my one month, so... Here’s a quick update! It looks like it got to my teeth first, which... Is what it is, but my ears started getting longer recently too! No fur or anything yet, but. Big things 🥳

Rae is quick to jump on things, responding again almost instantly. 

raeraebun: YAAAAA THAT’S MY GIRLLLLLLLL you look so good!! The first half an inch of so many more :DDD 

grumpybunny-edith: !!! That’s huge! Starting with teeth must be tough :( how’s the pain been 

wen-kutesuli: It’s been... manageable? grumpybunny-edith: oof. Good luck lol  pink-lightning: Edith, don’t. That’s wonderful news, Gwen 🩷

I can’t help but wonder what Edith meant by that. It hadn’t been easy for the last couple weeks — as it turns out, growing your teeth is at best super uncomfortable — but it had been bearable as long as I didn’t forget my painkillers. Is she just trying to scare me? Is it gonna get way worse? Or does she just have an embarrassingly low tolerance for pain? 

pink-lightning: You look happy.  pink-lightning: Have you ever sent a picture smiling before? 

I scroll up to look at the picture again at Ashley’s statement. I’m a little surprised at how much I’m smiling; I hadn’t even noticed when I took it. I’m also surprised that she’d notice something as small as how often someone smiles in pictures. I make a mental note of that, feeling embarrassment creep up about it — is it not normal to feel a little bit weird about a smile? I do my best to hide my feelings.

wen-kutesuli: I guess not lol I didn’t notice! raeraebun: You NEED to do it more. you look SO CUTEE grumpybunny-edith: fr. depriving us of that shit should count as a crime tbh  thebuildingisonfire: okay but like. Be gay do crime  raeraebun: not this crimee raeraebun: we love following the law in this specific moment grumpybunny-edith: Yeah this crime is like. Stealing from a small business  thebuildingisonfire: just on principle, omfg =_=

The chat stops for a few minutes. I’m too giddy to care much about it, pacing my room on my toes and going fast enough to feel the wind in my ears. Of course they’re happy for me, why wouldn’t they be? Their pride... kinda becomes my own. I keep jumping around, catching glimpses of myself in my mirror, and it makes me so happy. The light from outside shines through my ears like a tulle curtain, making them shine. I don’t even have to imagine I have a tail to feel this giddy about it all. I put on my favorite KKB album and hop around my carpeted floors, enjoying the simple joy of having a body becoming more like what it’s supposed to be. 

I don’t notice the next message until several minutes later, the buzzing of my phone muted by the carpet. I prance back to it only intending to play a song over again. 

thebuildingisonfire: dealing w any like, behavioral stuff? Or are we still waiting on that lol  raeraebun: I didnt realize you were taking over scheduling the sleepover, del xD thebuildingisonfire: oh no definitely not that’s still your job lmaooo thebuildingisonfire: just curious I swear

I keep hopping around my room as I try to come up with an answer. I don’t feel anything like what the information outlined, and definitely nothing that would warrant one of those sleepovers they’re always talking about. My feet are a little bit sore from all the moving, but I still have more energy to get out, so I type and jog at the same time. 

wen-kutesuli: I don’t think I’ve gotten any yet?  grumpybunny-edith: Oh my god Delilah you can’t just ask someone how horny they are pink-lightning: Yeah. Obviously that’s Edith’s job.

I drop my phone. I don’t pick it up. I’ve stopped in my tracks. Of course I know what’s coming, but it’s hard to believe it’ll happen to me. Sure it’s exciting, but I haven’t exactly had all that many... you know. It’s just hard to think about as something real, let alone something happening so soon. And, just, logistically it all seems pretty inconvenient; “Missing work for sex so often you get fired for it” seems more Delilah’s speed than it does mine, and I’m not sure I want to find out whether or not that’s correct. I shift my feet in the carpet nervously, feeling the tiny fibers through my soles. I press up onto the balls of my feet, trying to adjust to the way my feet are going to move within the next year. When I move to join my phone on the floor I push my heels down first, sitting down like a rabbit is supposed to. 

raeraebun: its not that unreasonable yall, “behavioral stuff” doesnt have to mean horny  raeraebun: its just cool to know the drugs work and that youre happy w them gwen :))  pink-lightning: And if you’re not, you can always let us know. We don’t want anyone having to go through that kind of thing alone.  grumpybunny-edith: That’s kinda the whole reason this chat exists, lol  grumpybunny-edith: Also, that’s what she said. 

I giggle for the amount of time it takes to understand what Edith meant, at which point I’m overrun with blush. I can barely fathom the idea of one of them actually wanting to... Well. “Help me” with that kind of thing. I’m well aware they do it with each other, I’ve just never been that type before? It’s like being in line for a rollercoaster you have no knowledge of beyond being able to hear the things people say once they’ve gotten off. 

pink-lightning: Seriously. I know we all only just met you in the grand scheme of things, but we are here to help in whatever capacity you want. I’m trying to build the space I would’ve needed when I was in your shoes. If there’s anything you need to talk about, please let us know. Even if it feels kinda weird.

raeraebun: absolutely!! We’re here for ya bestie <333

Ashley is so sincere it almost makes me anxious. I walk across the room, heels sinking into the carpet, and pull the packet the doctor gave me out of my desk drawer. I sit on the floor with it. 

“Descent into sexual depravity” “Unavoidable, frequent joint pain that will last for years”

“ near-constant sex drive which interferes with life at nearly every turn” 

“Irreversible”

“Loss of self”

I throw the packet to the side, my lower back numb like something was trying to burrow out of it, thrashing viciously from side to side. 

I open the chat again, staring at Ashley’s message with my phone in my hairless hands. My nails are short and fragile, not clicking against the screen as I type. 

wen-kutesuli: I’m gonna be okay, right?  grumpybunny-edith: You’re gonna be just fine 💙 pink-lightning: Absolutely. And whenever it’s not, let us know.  thebuildingisonfire: we got you  raeraebun: totally!!!

I look between my screen and the discarded packet. I feel wide awake in the sunset but crawl into bed anyway, finding comfort in the blankets over my head. I really, really consider asking for some company, but I’m not sure how much I want to be seen right now.

---

Prev - Next

[chialeah]

TCR EPISODE 9

Fuck- this episode was so tense and heartbreaking but so so good! Definitely the toughest episode to watch so far. Masterclass in acting from all the cast involved! Major spoilers below!

1. With minimal dialogue from Danny this episode Tom brilliantly spoke through his eyes/body language to convey Danny’s inner thoughts/emotions. I truly was heartbroken watching Danny watch Candy betray him and stay loyal to Marlin. Also his face during the final scene! I truly couldn’t handle it.

2. The actress playing the DA is eating fr. I will definitely have to check out more of her work! Christopher Abbott has also been giving a wonderful performance these past few episodes. I’m such a big fan of his work and TCR has been a great addition. They truly are the backbone of the trial and have been doing a great job raising bigger issues/questions about Danny’s overall place.

3. Annabelle, Angelo, and Jerome taking the witness stand was a great addition. You could tell that they all were sort of empathetic to the internal struggles Danny has been dealing with(whether or not he deserved it in those specific situations). Jerome-I love you fr! I’ve loved his performances from these past two episodes and am grateful that he has been able to show a more gentle/vulnerable side to Danny and his alters.

4. Candy! I appreciate that the episode established that she was at the receiving end of abuse too. “Guilt or Grief, which one can you bear” is such a banger line and it was interesting to see how Candy reacted to it. I HATE that she did that to her own son but I get why she was so afraid. She wasn’t ready to lose everything so she decided push her own son further away by lying. Truly a shame fr! I hate Marlin so so so much! Appreciate the actor giving this role his all because he’s truly made Marlin such a despicable character lol. The look of heartbreak between Candy and Danny after she took the stand will haunt me.

5. The final scene! I had such a visceral reaction to this scene it was crazy! I knew that the binder clip was going to come back in a dangerous way. The look of solemn terror but also relief after Danny harms himself was so heartbreaking I legit started to sob. I do appreciate the show not showing the action of abuse or self harm but rather the characters reactions to it. I think this is a really smart way to emphasize the emotional/psychological toll it takes. I have a lot of questions about the outcome of Danny’s action in this scene but i guess we’ll find out more next week!

6. Spoilers!- From the set pictures and locations used during the filming of episode 10 it seems that whatever the outcome of the trial is Danny hopefully (eventually) gets sent to a mental facility upstate! Looks like some time has passed and Rya goes to visit Danny. He even has his scars from where he harmed himself! I’ll put some of the set pics below! This is truly saving me from having a full freak out about this episode lol.

Hopeful that we get to have some closure for Ari, Jonny, and the other alters in some capacity in the next episode. Hopefully Candy steps up in some way in the next episode as well. I also am looking forward for Danny’s defense (including Rya) to get a fucking win in the incoming parts of the trial. This show has truly done a great job giving example to the nuanced history mental illness has had within the social/judicial/political systems at play here in the U.S. Can’t believe we’re at the finale already! Looking forward to seeing these storylines get wrapped up. Great job all around! Bravo Tom!

My episode ranking so far:

9-8-7-6-3-5-4-2-1