#it's frustrating as fuck when people make their bullshit your problem

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

my work emails are triggering the fuck out of me today...

[celepeace]

When you find a post/blog by someone who seems knowledgeable about your understudied chronic illness and you get hopeful that they might have advice for symptom management but then they start going into how using essential oils to "detoxify" your body can improve symptoms -_-

[daceydeath]

Try Again?

Pairing: Chan x F Reader Word Count: 2K Genre: Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Swearing

A part two of Why

You needed time to think the scandal was growing and you needed to be sure that you believed Chan or whether you should walk away for good

It had been almost twenty four hours since you had asked Chis to leave your apartment and the first seven, you predicted of many, bouquets of flowers had already arrived at your door. Although you conceded not all of them were from him, one had been from Felix, you were still not sure what to do. You knew about articles on Dispatch titled "Stray Kids Bang Chan Caught Kissing Mystery Woman" and "Stray Kids Bang Chan Takes Advantage of Fan". There were dozens of smaller articles of Chan with the whore sitting on his lap and all of them made your heart break a little more. You believed him but somewhere in the back of your mind you knew that there was always a chance he was lying to you to keep what he already had from slipping through his fingers.

Your phone rang for the twenty eighth time only this time it wasn't Chan or his manager it was Changbin and you knew at least he would tell you the truth, probably. There was little for him to lose, you would remain friends with the other guys whatever happened, you just wouldn't be able to see Chan again. Ever.

"I'm so sorry we didn't stop her" Changbin blurted loudly as soon as you answered the call "Shit we knew she was going to cause a problem as soon as Hyunjin spotted her following us".

"Bin, start from the beginning" you mumbled your voice scratchy from crying. You felt too listless to bother trying to piece information together.

"Hyunjin spotted her while we were filming and she seemed to be following us, when we finished and went out to the bar she popped up again and we knew she was going to cause some kind of issue, the psycho ones always do. But none of us guessed she was going to launch herself at Chan hyung and try to kiss him let alone sit in his lap. She was on him for like 15 seconds before security grabbed her and kicked her out" Changbin prattled before taking his first breath, you understood now why he was a rapper with the ability to speak so clearly but almost so fast you couldn't follow him.

"You were drunk Bin, Chan told me you all were" you sighed sitting on the floor in your lounge unable to even bring yourself to sit on the couch you had been sitting on when he had told you.

"Not that drunk! sure we were all a bit worse for wear but not so much that we didn't panic the moment she jumped hyung" he defended knowing that you knew he rarely got plastered unless he was somewhere that Stay wouldn't see him.

"So a sasaeng followed you around all day and then to the bar and you all did nothing until she decided to sit in Chan's lap and try to kiss him? That's the story you are going with?" you sniffled you had already run out of tears so an almost miserable apathy was all you could manage at that point.

"I'm not lying to you" Changbin's pretty much shouted down the phone frustration evident in his voice "Fuck I have no stake in what happens between you and hyung but I would prefer than neither of you get hurt by bullshit that was caused by someone else".

You stayed silent, your shaky breath probably the only thing he could hear as the moments dragged on before you hung up adding him to the growing list of people you were blocking as the day wore on. You were too tired to deal with this now and no matter what anyone thought you had to protect yourself first.

Another two days passed and another two of the boys had joined your blocked list for not getting the message and blowing up your phone, the list now stood at four members and three managers, you had just hoped that the others would get the hint and either contact you sparingly or just leave you alone until you were ready to deal with it. The articles kept coming, the whore had been sure to give out as much information as she could making the story grow exponentially and Stay were getting angry that the members were being crucified with no evidence to back the claims up. You were now seeing the situation for what it was and to quote Changbin it was just 'bullshit'.

"Holy shit bug are you ok? Everyone is so worried since you just disappeared" Felix asked as he stepped into your apartment with Hyunjin and Minho on his heels. You had invited them over so you could ask them exactly what happened and how Chan was doing, hoping you could finally either tell him that you believed him or to never contact you again.

"I'm better, I just needed some time" you smiled, accepting his tight hug and letting them sit where they wanted "Can I get you anything?".

"No, we brought you coffee though, to perhaps help" Minho offered, placing an iced latte down on your coffee table.

"Thanks Min" you smiled as genuinely as you could. All of the members had been so kind to you after they met you and found out you were with Chan and Minho was no exception to that even though it took him longer to come around.

"Three shots with vanilla syrup" he smiled in return and waited for you to sit down.

"I didn't want to call you and tell you over the phone" Hyunjin started nervously "I wanted to be able to tell you the truth and you be able to see it".

"That's more than I deserve Hyunnie, I've been quite the bitch over the past few days" you felt the skin of your face burning in shame at your admission.

"You were hurt, you had every right to feel what you were feeling" Felix interjected his normally cheerful bright smile replaced with a small shy one.

"We had been filming a Skz Talker" Hyunjin sighed watching you take a sip of the coffee "This girl was following us, but always off camera and only when we were in public, I noticed her after one of the managers was grumbling about her. She seemed fairly harmless just taking pictures and filming us, which isn't as bad as some of the shit they do, so I ignored her".

"Hyunjin pointed her out to a couple of us so I saw her and I'm pretty sure Seung and Innie did too but I'm not totally sure. But she honestly didn't seem as bad as some of the others do so we were probably not cautious enough about her which is on all of us, the managers included" Minho frowned, his eyes sadder than you had seen them in a while.

"When we went to dinner I don't think she was there and then the little bar we went to after that was so small there can't have been more than twenty other people in, including the staff" Felix added cautiously "but granted I hadn't seen her until it happened".

"We had a few drinks, Channie hyung was tipsy and barely at that, and she just appeared and wandered over like she was a friend. He didn't even see her until he sat on him and he was too stunned to even do anything about it, when he didn't react she grabbed his shirt and kissed him which he shut down immediately" Hyunjin continued slowly letting the information sink in. "He just about shoved her to the floor though, once we all yelled and the managers grabbed her Chan hyung just started cursing her out for being a psycho and disgusting, I think Minho hyung called her an whore because he is savage when he wants to be"

"An attention seeking whore but yeah semantics really" Minho confirmed, shrugging casually.

"We were all shocked and Channie hyung just broke down after it all happened and kept saying he needed to see you, he had to tell you but by the time we got back into Seoul and he got here it had already become a scandal" Felix pouted looking like he was the one who had messed up.

"Thank you all for telling me" you smiled halfheartedly, sipping your coffee again.

"Have you eaten today?" Minho asked seriously, looking at you sympathetically.

"I'll order something for dinner in a little while" you nodded your body feeling drained "I promise".

"Are you going to talk to hyung? He's losing his mind over this, not even the rumors and bad press over you not talking to him" Felix questioned as sweetly as he could.

"I'll call him" you again nodded as they all got up to leave, letting you walk them to the door.

"I swear that's the truth" Hyunjin took your hand to squeeze it "Hyung would rather give up his career than lose you".

"I would never allow that Hyunnie" you squeezed his hand back before they walked out and you shut the door behind them. You knew they hadn't lied to you and you also knew that Chan probably hadn't eaten or slept since it happened which made you feel so guilty that you felt your throat tighten. Taking a deep breath you unblocked his number and waited to see if anything happened, opening your food app you ordered something to arrive in an hour knowing that you would forget about it otherwise. Five minutes after the boys left your phone rang, Chan's picture filling your screen and making your heart clench.

"Baby girl?" He whispered his voice croaky "Baby girl please talk to me".

"Hi Channie" you answered him, your voice shaking.

"Oh shit, baby girl I'm so sorry. I've missed you so much and I'm sorry I fucked everything up and broke your heart but I'll do anything, absolutely anything to get another chance. Please. I love you so fucking much I can't breathe without you". He rambled, his voice turning thick as you imagined tears springing into his eyes.

"Channie, you don't need another chance, you didn't lose the first chance" you explained "I spoke to Hyunjin he told me everything and I'm so sorry I doubted you. I should have known you would never do that to me. I should have trusted you more but I was so scared that you might not love me anymore and I already knew you were too good for me so.... I'm sorry Channie".

"No, no, no you have nothing to be sorry for" Chan interrupted "I'm coming round I don't want this conversation to be over the phone. Is that ok?"

"The doors open Channie" you smiled as he hung up and you imagined him rushing around to get to your apartment.

When he arrived you almost cried looking at how tired and wrecked he looked, heavy bags under his eyes, his hair a mess and his cheeks pale. He didn't say a word, just pulled you into his arms holding you so tight that you thought he might not let you go again.

"I love you, I'll leave Stray Kids, I'll quit music, I'll announce we're together whatever you want me to do to prove I mean it" he breathed into your hair his lips pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"You will do none of those things Channie" you softly protested your voice muffled against his chest "But maybe get more security to stop the insane people getting so close to you?".

"I will definitely do that baby girl" he sighed, his hold on you relaxing slightly "can we try this again?".

"We never broke up Channie I just needed some time, I didn't leave you I just needed space" you whispered "I know I was a bitch and went about it the wrong way. I should have told you what I needed instead of just shutting you out but I still love you very much".

Chan let go of you tilting your face to look at him, his smile so bright that it was almost blinding before he crashed his lips into yours, the emotion behind the kiss a promise that it would never happen again, that his heart and soul belonged to you. Melting against him you knew you would never not trust him again you loved Chan and that was all that mattered.

a/n: I know this took me like a year to finish but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Your likes, comments, reblogs and support means everything to me and I adore you all xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @uno7 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser

[llatimeria]

I feel so resolved right now bc I've been getting a little frustrated with the Instagram reels I've been seeing that's mostly het women complaining about how their husbands don't share the mental load of housework - which is absolutely justified, ofc. everyone needs to partake in taking care of the home as close to equally as is reasonable.

the thing is this mostly takes the form of people making fun of how their husbands say things like "Yeah sure I'll share the load :) Just make me a list!:) just tell me what to do! :)" when that's kind of defeating the purpose -- if your partner's making lists of chores for you, you're still basically offloading a ton of mental effort onto them, which doesn't actually help the problem.

however I know from experience that I am that husband lol. and I'm sure a lot of these men are just kind of inconsiderate, but from my perspective as a disabled neurodivergent person, I reflexively try to offload things like Making Lists or Asking To Be Told What To Do onto my (overstressed, often panicking) partner because I'm scared that if I make decisions about what I need to do, I'll focus on something my partner didn't even have on their radar and waste all my energy "fixing" something which they didn't consider broken, leaving me with nothing to help solve the problems they actually care about.

I'm not trying to be a dick or deliberately being lazy, I just need to know what's bothering them the most so I can start there instead of starting on a random side quest that doesn't matter to either of us. considering how many of these people I've run into are in nd4nd relationships, I'm pretty sure I can't be the only "inconsiderate husband" out there who's having this feeling, and it's a little frustrating to see it being completely attributed to a moral failing and not, like, a possible symptom of their partner's own mental health issues. (like we definitely can't pretend like misogyny never plays a part in the Just Make Me A List type of behavior, but I know relatively certainly that is not where it's originating from in my own personal relationship, and I'm not that unique)

just when I was about to just make a kind of grumpy post about this problem and offer absolutely no solutions, I fuckin run into a reel where someone actually tells people how to bridge the gap between offloading mental effort and actually knowing what your partner wants you to do- literally just. offer a couple of observations to them instead of hoping they'll do everything for you. ie - instead of "just tell me what to do!!", say "I see the dishes have to be done and the trash has to be taken out, so I was gonna do the dishes then take out the trash, unless there was something else that needs my focus first". this tells your partner that you are taking on some of the mental burden, but still offers them the opportunity to point you in the right direction if you're WAY off.

it just makes so much fucking sense and I never would've thought of doing that on my own. genuinely an extremely useful video to just algorithmically be provided to me. it's actionable advice instead of just telling people "share the loaaaddd" without providing the scaffolding someone needs to do that when theyre unused to it (whether that be due to neurodivergency or growing up as a guy in a misogynistic society).

and its just like. God damn it. this is bullshit. I can't believe the stupid camera app is helping me in real ways. maybe the mental health gurus and internet therapists have a goddamn point sometimes. fucking hell

[saintjosie]

the funny thing about being good at taking criticism is that you have to know when not to listen.

there are a lot of people who will make assumptions about you and criticize you unfairly.

there are a lot of people who will project their own problems onto you and claim they are yours.

there are a lot of people who use criticism to take your energy and make themselves feel better about themselves.

there’s just a lot of people who hate themselves in general and will look at someone who doesnt and want to bring them down to their level.

and once you learn to filter out and reject the bullshit:

you can hear criticism from people that speak out of love and kindness and not their own frustrations.

you can hear criticism from people who have a different perspective than you and engage with them in kindness.

you can hear criticism from the people in your life who set their own boundaries and do so to preserve your relationship, not to end or control it.

so tell that anon in your inbox to fuck off!

[mcrslover]

MCR quotes for anyone who needs them:

"Kids would say they were going to kill themselves then they heard our music... it's our mission"

- Mikey Way.

...

"Reasons why mcr is good for you

juradsleigh:

Feeling like a rad vampire? Listen to bullets

Feeling angry? Listen to 3 cheers

Feeling sad? Listen to black parade

Feeling colourful and happy? Listen to danger days

Feeling like breaking up your band? Listen to death never stop you"

...

"This is for every kid out there... That dyed their hair a fucked up colour and can't get a job. They got a tattoo on their neck like Frank, and can't get a job. That does this because they fuckin' love this. This song is for every kid in the audience- even if you don't have fucked up hair or tattoos-every kid on stage, this song's about us, this song's about you, it's called The Kids From Yesterday."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Stop covering your children's eyes.

Everything is fucked up and pretending it's not won't make it any better. I'm tired of people praying for a change when it's up to them to get off their asses and make a change."

- Frank Iero.

...

"I spent most of my time in the back of the class, just drawing. My goal was to not get noticed in school, because spent so long not being noticed anyway or being treated as if I were invisible that I started to like it.

I've learned that it's actually not very lonely... It's like, you have less friends but the friends you have count more. I met a lot of people that weren't outsiders, or they were very popular, and they have a lot of friends but I don't know if they're the kinds of friends you would call up at 3 am to help you out or talk about being depressed."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Promise me, when MCR's gone, you'll do what it takes to survive. You're strong enough to do it without us."

- Gerard Way.

...

"All your quirks and all your problems, even your depressions, and your failures that's.. that's what makes you, you."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you or someone you know is severely depressed you need to fucking talk to someone! Your mom, someone in school, I don't give a fuck! Because suicide is fucking bullshit."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Nothing is worth hurting yourself over, nothing is worth taking your life over"

- Gerard Way.

...

"If we never play another show again, just keep yourself alive."

- Gerard Way.

...

"We're outsiders, we're the kids who didn't get dates for the prom, we're the kids who were confused, who didn't fit in with the cliques, who weren't part of the in-crowd.

Growing up can be a very frightening and confusing time, and I think people look at us and see it's okay to be different. They see that there is a way other than what they're being offered. That you can stand out, that you can be creative, that you can be yourself."

- Gerard Way.

...

"gerard-hey:

I love MCR so much it's like they have a song for every situation. Feeling sad? Listen to The Lights Behind Your Eyes. Feeling frustrated? Listen to I'm Not Okay. Feeling Energetic? Listen to Na Na Na. Feeling like you wanna kick some ass? Listen to Destroya.

Feeling rebellious? Listen to Teenagers. Feel like you wanna break up your band? Listen to Fake Your Death."

...

"The difference we want to make is, number one, to let these kids know that they're not alone, that they're actually not that messed up, and that they can do whatever they want they can express themselves in any way they want without being persecuted or called a faggot or some kind of racist thing. Really just get people to get over their stuff so they can live."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Whatever happens to you, no matter what, l'm always fucking there for you... Don't forget that. I don't give a shit if your boyfriend dumps you. If your girlfriend dumps you. If you're working a shitty job or can't get through school. If you can't get through a fucking Harry Potter book, there's nothing worth dying over. There's nothing worth taking your life over. I will always fucking be there."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you come to an MCR show, you're probably a little fucked up, and that's okay because we're just as fucked up as you. It's us against the world. And it's great because there's thousands of us in one place."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Someone doesn't like you? Fuck it.

Having a bad day? Fuck it. Didn't get that job, or that grade, or that promotion you wanted? Fuck it. Fighting with your lover? Fuck it. Feel fat today? Fuck it. Losing control of everything and everyone? Fuck it.

What matters now won't matter soon; the truly important thing is that you are alive, and that you have the capacity to do absolutely anything with this beautiful, crazy coincidence of being on this earth. Just stick your middle fingers in the air and think, 'Damn, I have it good."

- Gerard Way.

...

"You're going to come across a lot of shitty bands, and a lot of shitty people. And if anyone of those people call your names because of what you look like, or bedause they don't accept you for who you are. I want you to look right at that mother fucker, stick up your middle finger and scream

"FUCK YOU!!"

- Gerard Way.

...

"Real revenge is making something of yourself."

- Gerard Way.

❤️🖤❤️🖤

[jadeoru]

SMUDGED LIPSTICK!

11: fresh start -> prev / mlist / next

now playing: i dont like who i was then - the wonder years 🎶

The uproar of cheering and applause thumped in your head. Your forehead was slick with sweat, and you were still catching your breath as you ran backstage. Your back pressed firmly against the wall, heart beating so loudly you could hear it; adrenaline coursed through your veins. You watched as the rest of the band flooded into the room, smiles spread widely on each of their faces - even tsukishima’s. Nishinoya was jumping so much so you worried he would take flight. Excitement surged through the room, it was moments like these in which you found yourself appreciating all of the effort you put in to reach this point. All of the shows that went wrong: when you got booed, when you got into fights, when there were tech problems that ultimately ruined the entire show, when your nervousness found a home inside of you, feeding off of your doubts; shaking your hands, and trembling your voice. All of those humiliating, daunting moments you faced together. Everything had to go wrong for the present to feel so right. You were exactly where you belonged. 

“Oh my god did you see the crowd? They went fucking insane!” Nishinoya practically yelled, arms flailing around as if they were fueled by raw excitement. Everyone nodded their heads exhilaratingly. “Holy fuck guys, we killed it!” you ran your fingers through your hair, wiping the sweat off of your forehead. All eyes turned to you as everyone smiled. With a shout of your name, your friends began to drown each other with their praise. Kiyoko’s voice boomed through your ears, “Yn, your stage presence is absolutely captivating - We’re so lucky to have you in the band! Without you the crowd would probably be asleep!” placing her bass safely against the wall, she walked up towards you and pulled you into her arms. You smiled so hard your cheeks began to ache, leaning into her warm touch. “Don’t say stuff like that. You’re gonna make me cry, Shimizu. Oh my god I love you so much. You're the best damn bass player I've ever seen.” you laughed, squeezing her tightly one last time before pulling away. She simply kept smiling, before turning back to the other members, and continuing her words of admiration towards them. You stayed with the others for a good while, spewing your affection to them insistently, before taking a deep breath in.

“Guys. I think I'm gonna go find Sakusa.” 

Despite being 6-foot-something and undeniably the sexiest man in the bar, finding him proved to be impossible. Your eyes searched the whole building. Every time you thought you were getting close, all you were met with were traces of him: a white surgical mask stuck to the sticky floor, a half empty bottle of hand sanitiser abandoned on a somehow even stickier table. All you could find was proof of your clean freak ex-best friend’s presence, but not the actual man himself. Frustrated, and growing tired, you got yourself a vodka cranberry and stood awkwardly in the corner of the room. Maybe he’d find you instead?

After a few minutes of wallowing in regret and reminiscence of your memories, your hopes of seeing him again were quickly discarded as a group of people approached you. They looked at you with metaphorical fangs bared, and eyes filled with envy. Oh fuck.

“Hey, ‘yer the girl that was singing on that stage, right?” one of them called out. He was tall and lanky, with messy hair and a drunken slur in his voice. the rest of them snickered from behind him. He must’ve been the ‘leader’ of the group. You straightened your back defensively, trying to seem taller; more intimidating. “And what if I am?” your eyes flicked to the people behind him, who laughed.

“It’d be a shame. Yer way too pretty to be singing stuff like that. Enough of that emo bullshit.” you scowled, rolling your eyes. Was this guy serious? “I’ll sing whatever the fuck I want, asshole.” your lips curved downwards, trembling slightly with brewing anger. He smiled at you sinisterly.

“You’ll never get a husband with that attitude, doll. Men aren’t into that edgy style ya know?” he spoke in a patronising tone that you couldn’t bear.

“Am I supposed to care what dickless men like you think of me?” you knew you shouldn’t be speaking to him like this, you knew that it would only make the situation worse. but, you were way too stressed out to deal with this maturely. If he wanted to start a fight, then you’d finish it.

“You should - Just look at you! You’d be so much prettier without that black shit all over yer face. And the screamo music? Are ya tryin’ to look like a weirdo?” Did he seriously come up to you just to say pointless bullshit like this? Your fists clenched with anger, jaw clenched as you looked at the group of men with all the hatred you could muster up. “Suck my dick.” you spoke through gritted teeth. His eyes widened with shock, surprise quickly being replaced by offence. “‘Scuse me?” he asked, but you both knew he heard you well. The rest of his group looked at each other with a sinister expression, as if they knew what would happen next. You took a step forward, not caring if your boot stomped on his foot in the process. “I said,” you poked a finger at his chest hardly, enunciating each word with a rough poke. “Suck. my. Dick.” you spat at him. Muttering a low ‘you bitch’, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly, almost in an attempt to break the bone. “Yer gonna fuckin’ regret that - you bitch. I’m gonna fuckin ki-” His words were quickly cut off as he was pulled backwards by the back of his shirt. He turned around, eyes widening in fear as he stared at the man now in front of him.

Staring at this man with pure disdain was none other than Sakusa motherfucking Kiyoomi. And he was pissed. 

“Leave her the fuck alone.” he pulled him back harsher, causing him to stumble over, nearly falling. His words shot out like bullets, laced with venom that tasted like pure hatred. The man quickly stuttered out his apologies, aware of how much weaker he was in comparison to him. “Hey man- it was just a joke! We were just playin’ around!” you almost wanted to laugh at how pathetic the man looked now, if not for being frozen in complete shock. “Yeah? Well it’s my turn to play around then.” he spoke with the ghost of a smirk on his face. You could see the way his fist was clenched, his knuckles were white as he held onto the fabric of his shirt. Without warning, he raised his hand, and punched him in the gut. As he leaned over in pain, grunting dramatically, Sakusa took this as the perfect opportunity to push him, slamming the man down to the ground. The people around you quickly processed what was happening, and tried to avenge their fallen friend. They circled you and Sakusa with the look of pure evil displaying on their features. Before they could get their hands on him, Sakusa grabbed you by the arm, and dragged you to the back of the bar, leading you outside.

The cold night air pricked at your shoulders, as you stared at the man in front of you. “Holy shit, Sakusa..” you muttered, still in disbelief from what just unfolded in front of you. He took a step towards you, and with a fast beating heart, you took a step back. Your back pressed against the wall as you stared up at him. He scanned your face for any sign of injury, before whispering, “Are you okay?” In stark contrast to a few minutes ago, his voice was much softer now - much like his gaze. You nodded your head shyly, scared that if you spoke up now, you’d accidentally let out all of your emotions. You’d be damned if you didn’t think he was hot as fuck back then. You’d never forgive yourself if you accidentally told him that. He hummed at your response, eyes flicking to the door to make sure you were alone.

“Are you ready to listen to me now?” he asked, trying to sound calm, but there was no denying the desperation in his voice. You struggled to suppress the smile that crept onto your face. “What if I say no?” he leaned in closer to you, almost enough to feel your breath on his face.

“Then i'll keep waiting”

You smiled at him. You smiled at him for the first time in forever. He treasured the sight with every ounce of his being. You were just as beautiful as you were the day you left him. He couldn’t help but smile back, albeit significantly smaller. “Will you keep annoying me about this?” you asked, crossing your arms, your smile shifting into a playful smirk. “Of course I will.” he said, blunt as ever. You chuckled. “Then fine. Talk to me.”

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he began speaking. “Look. About… then - I…” he paused for a moment, searching for the right words to say. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for the things I said to you - For what I did to you. I know that saying sorry isn’t enough to repair the pain I put you through but I swear I’ll do anything to make it up to you. And I know i sound fucking pathetic right now but I just need you to know how much I regret everything that’s happened between us.” The way he spoke was the exact opposite of how he normally was: messy, frantic, unprepared and, of course, pathetic. He wasn’t sure how long he was talking for, in all honesty he wasn't sure how to stop. He explained everything to you, not leaving out even a fraction of how he had felt or what was going through his mind. You had to do a few double takes to make sure this was still the same Sakusa you had known before. For once, you thanked his blunt honesty. He rambled on and on, only stopping to catch his breath. When he finally stopped, you could see the embarrassment that shadowed his eyes. It was evident that his mind was beating him up for talking so much. A moment of silence hung around you. You struggled to fill it. 

You looked at the ground, taking in his words. “Sakusa.. I-” A few seconds passed by. “I was not expecting that.” you said with a nervous chuckle. He let out a quiet groan of shame, looking away from you. He was adorable. You took a moment to put your next sentence together, processing every word of his apology. With a shaky sigh, your eyes met his again. He prepared himself to face your anger, bracing himself to hear the insults you would inevitably sling at him. He didn’t doubt for a second that he deserved it. But they never came. “Thanks for… all of that.” you laughed awkwardly, “I mean it. You have no idea how much I needed to hear those words from you. I don’t think it’s possible for me to keep being mad at you after hearing all of that.” you smiled at him again, tongue between your teeth. You swallowed, before continuing, “I’m sorry too. I should’ve let you explain yourself sooner. I was just so angry! I mean- you left out of fucking nowhere, y’know? I was so pissed off I couldn't stand to look at you, because I knew I'd forgive you immediately. It sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud…” you paused, looking into his eyes. “I’m so sorr-” he cut you off,

“Don’t say that. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His voice was low, truthful. Another beat of silence passed, before he started talking again. “Do you want to forgive me yet?” he asked, not doing anything to mask the pleading look on his face. His heart was racing, and he wasn’t sure whether it was nervousness or anticipation. Honestly, it was both. The thought of not forgiving him hadn’t crossed your mind once. You’ve waited way too long for this moment. With a smile, you pointed your finger to him.

“I forgive you. But, we won’t go right back to being friends. You have to earn that, okay?” your harsh words contradicted the happy expression on your face. He smiled wider than you’d seen in a while.

“Understood.”

Without saying another word, you pulled him into your arms; hugging him tightly. He stood there for a second, before wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours. He relished in the warmth of your embrace. God, he missed this.

“Thanks for giving me a chance.”

extra:

i have nothing to say except for how happy i am to get this chapter out god bless 🙏🙏THEY ARENT BEEFING ANYMORE!!!! HOORAY!!

TAGLIST: @gojoed @anianurst @itsdragonius @sleepy-writer84 @yuminako @wolffmaiden @tenjikusstuff4 @juie13 @ilyless @arachnoia @choizzn @3lectraheart @sugarrhiccupp @bbybibi @diorzs @le000xxgrd @aboveasphodel @petrus1989 @aria-in-wonderland @walllflowerrrsss @wave2mia @loveelylacey @marimisses @alpha-mommy69 @thepurpleempath @theauthorunicorn @v1oletfury @iluvmang @slashkxe @theycallmenanamisgirl @dailyakira @loverlunaire @iovetooru @ryukumi @soupofmushrooms

reply to be added ^__^

[mariacallous]

I plan on voting for Biden in November.  But it’s terrible.  A vote for him is still a vote that will not significantly improve our deepest and most troubling social problems.  He won’t give us Medicare for All or any other badly needed boosts to social programs.  He will probably continue to support policies that actively oppress BIPOC.  He will not help us.  He’s also a sexual predator.  Truly, I do not want to vote for this man.  This is not the man I wanted to vote for.  I don’t want him in office.  He is simply not good enough.  This man doesn’t represent what I want at all.

But if I don’t vote for Biden in November, I feel like I’m making it that much easier for Trump to win another election.  And I want that even less than I want a Biden presidency.  I don’t want another 4 years of what we have now.  No fucking way.  No.

I’m so conflicted.  I feel like there is blood on my hands.  I feel like I’m casting a vote for death and misery if I’m not voting for a progressive candidate with a progressive platform.  I feel like I’m committing nothing short of an atrocity no matter what I choose to do.  I don’t want to harm people, and yet, won’t I essentially be doing exactly that?  I just want to do the right thing.  I don’t want to bring harm, or perpetuate harm towards anyone.

Trump will probably win anyway.  He’s doing all he can to ensure that, and it will probably work.  The impending climate disaster will kill us all because we will clearly continue to do nothing.  Our bodies will be riddled with micro and nanoplastics.  America will become an even more of an inhospitable police state.

 Nobody will hold Biden accountable for anything if he wins, and he’ll never give us the public policies we desperately need. 

“Is this what hope feels like?  I’d forgotten,” you tweeted recently.  How?  And for what?  I see nothing but bad things to come.  I feel a deep sense of hopelessness and despair.

There are plenty of reasons to feel hopelessness and despair right now, but with regard to Joe Biden, you are wasting a whole bunch of negative emotions on a giant pile of shitty beliefs that just aren’t true.

First, and let me be very clear on this one, Joe Biden is not a sexual predator. He’s just not. Believe me, I would be shouting it from the rooftops if I thought he were. When Tara Reade went public, I took her allegations very seriously. I gave her extra helpings of the benefit of the doubt, but it turned out there was a mountain of evidence suggesting that Reade has always been a lying, manipulative grifter (which I didn’t want to be true), and there was another mountain of evidence suggesting that the predatory behavior alleged by Reade is simply not in Biden’s character (which I was very reluctant to trust). There was a time when I was hopeful that Reade’s accusations might even knock Biden out of the race, but I’m not the kind of person who believes a thing merely because I want it to be true. It’s fine if you want to criticize Biden for what appears to be a history of awkward or retrospectively inappropriate behavior. Hell, you can even buy into all that “Creepy Uncle Joe” bullshit, but you’re just plain wrong if you insist that Joe Biden is a sexual predator. (Obviously, the same cannot be said of Donald Trump, who is a straight-up serial rapist with a list of at least twenty-five women who have publicly and credibly accused him of sexual assault.)

As for your policy concerns, I understand your frustration. I would love to be voting for a far-left ultra-progressive firebrand of a candidate in the upcoming general election. That would feel wonderful, right up until the moment that she loses in a landslide, and I guarantee you, a far-left ultra-progressive candidate would get her ass handed to her by Trump. That’s not an outcome we can afford as a species, much less as a nation. You understand this, which is why you still plan on voting for Biden. Good. I’m really glad you’re not being a purist asshole about this. The evil garbage monsters in the GOP just love a left-wing purist who refuses to vote responsibly. Republicans are desperately praying to their imaginary white Jesus that all the Green Party crunch bars will fuck it up for the rest of us like they did back in 2016. We cannot let that happen again.

Listen, I’m not gonna try and convince you to like Joe Biden. You’re already gonna vote for him, so I’m perfectly fine if you hate his breathing guts. What I do want from you is a little maturity, some vision, and a realistic sense of scale. No one candidate will ever be the solution to our problems — not Bernie, not Liz, and certainly not Joe. At best, a candidate is a vector, a course correction, a desperately needed step in the right direction. That’s all we can expect from Biden, and he is bringing it. He’s bringing it every single day with a list of policy positions that are more progressive than any President’s in the history of the United States, and he most certainly brought it with the selection of Kamala Harris as his running mate.

Biden recognizes his place in history. He knows he is little more than a national stop-gap, a post-Trump tourniquet to stanch the bleeding. His Vice-Presidency and eventual Presidency will be a line of demarcation between two very distinct chapters of American history. This is more than just bridging the Boomer/Millennial generational divide. In the distant future (if we have one), it is my sincerest hope that Biden will be remembered as “The Last of the Old White Men,” a happy warrior who marked the end of a certain kind of Modern America and who helped usher in a new kind of Postmodern America. Those terms are clunky and loaded and absolutely will not stand the test of time, but we’re not the ones who get to name what we’re about to become. We’re the ones who have to keep doing the hard work to finally get us there, and that’s why I really need you to change your whole fucking attitude. 

This shit is going to be grueling. The fight will be brutal if not bloody, and there is absolutely no room for whiners and layabouts. You want to improve our deepest and most troubling social problems? Great. Quit moaning about doing harm with your vote and go do some actual good with your own two fucking hands. Pulling a lever in a voting booth every couple years is the bare minimum. In terms of civic duty, it is the absolute least you can do. Of course Biden won’t give us Medicare for All. Neither would Sanders or Warren. That’s not how any of this works. Presidents don’t give us shit. We do it ourselves. We demand it, loudly and with force, and over long stretches of time, with enough solidarity and sustained action, laws are enacted and policies change. 

I was around when the Clintons tried deadlifting their universal health care plan off the ground back in 1993. Maybe you remember it, maybe you weren’t even born yet, but that’s how long this shit takes. It’ll have been three fucking decades and two fucking generations of Democrats trying desperately to kick that gutbucket up Capitol Hill by the time we finally get around to some semblance of a single payer healthcare system. Thirty fucking years, my friend. That’s the kind of patience and perseverance the American experiment demands of us, so quit your fucking whining. Enough with all the pearl-clutching and hand-wringing. Take all your conflicted navel gazing bullshit and toughen the fuck up, buttercup.

You are on the right side of history. You are with the good guys. Quit your fucking bitching, and get out there and help us win.

[molotovmetro]

Hii

If it's possible, can you make ghost, könig, price, soap and horangi (if you write for him) with male s/o who is a man of few words? Like he only responds with mhm, ok, no etc.

I've never really tried my hand at horangi but I fucking love him so I'm gonna give it a try

Sorry this took so long, i had exams lol. Also added gaz because i think he's underrated

Warnings: none

M!reader (as always lol)

! Reminder that i take requests

Ghost, König, Price, Soap, Gaz, and Horangi with a s/o who doesn't talk much

Ghost

Ghost isn't great at holding conversations himself, so he appreciates you don't expect him to.

You're one of the only people he can enjoy a comfortable silence with.

He enjoys his hanging out, both doing your own thing in the same room.

You've basically perfected non-verbal communication. One look at each other and you can tell perfectly what the other is thinking.

Soap

Soap loves hearing your opinion on things, so sometimes it leaves him a bit frustrated when your answers are short.

He genuinely doesn't mind, but sometimes it just makes it harder to judge how much you agree with something. Like his next plan that is bound to give Price gray hair.

Soap will tease you over how quiet you are, but he won't hesitate to scold someone else for doing the same.

You're his guy, and only he has the right to bully you.

Price

Price has met people with all kinds of personalities throughout his time in the SAS. He's unfazed.

Another one who enjoys a bit of quiet company now and then, especially so with the hectic life he leads.

His favourite thing to is to unwind on the couch with you, with a cigar and a movie. A moment of peace in between all the war.

Gaz

Gaz is a really good listener, but it's nice for once to be the one listened to.

Sometimes the pressure of being the youngest in the 141 gets exhausting, in moments like those he appreciates he can come to you and not feel pressured to talk or engage in conversation.

He likes to talk to you about his interests, and even if you don't say much, he can tell you're still interested in what he's saying.

König

At first König thinks you don't like him.

The longer he knows you though, the more he realises its just your personality and you don't actually have a problem with him, and he gets more comfortable around you.

A bit like Gaz, he appreciates that he doesn't feel pressured to hold a conversation around you, especially when his anxiety is bad. He can just be with you.

When he does want to talk, he says just about every thought that pops into his head, and smiles fondly under his mask at the little hums and one word answers you give him.

Horangi

Horangi just keeps talking to you as if you responded with entire sentences instead of only a few words.

"What do you think of this?" "Mhm." "Yeah, I agree. You're right, the blue doesn't match the rest of the interior at all. How about that one?"

Like Soap, he teases you but doesn't tolerate any bullshit from others. He'll jump to defend you

[mattsnight]

Toxic - Matt Sturniolo

Summary: toxic bf!Matt turns into abusive bf!Matt

Warnings: toxic bf, abusive bf, use of y/n, cursing, bleeding, hurting, pet names, angst. I’m putting a big warning on this one, because some people may get triggered. !!!!

You were setting the table up for dinner. The television is playing in the background. Some series is playing and it catches your attention. A man and a gorgeous woman are cuddled up against a tree, watching the evening slowly turn into the night. They seem to be very happy and it almost gets you jealous. You knew Matt wouldn’t ever do this with you. Maybe that was because he isn’t that much of a romantic. Or he just dislikes the thought of doing that with you.

You and Matt were toxic, both of you knew that, but you didn’t want to believe it. You loved each other and that was the problem. Fights have been caused from the two of you being too obsessive and jealous whenever the other hangs out with the opposite gender. Fights have been caused because the two of you are so fucking in love that it hurts. This relationship was messed up.

Now as you’re watching that couple sit against the tree, something just breaks in you. You let go of the plate you were holding. It falls to the ground with a loud bang before it shatters into pieces. You stare at the tv while a few tears fall down your face. Why did it bother you so much? Was it the desperation to get something you so badly want? Was it because you can’t have what they have? You look down at the plate, only now realizing what you’ve done.

You can hear Matt rush into the room, an angry expression on his face. He looks at you first. His eyes move over your skin, checking to see if you’re hurt. Then he looks down at the ground seeing the broken plate. Something deep inside of him snaps. You look up at him, fear in your eyes.

“What the fuck did you do?” He yells. The anger in his voice makes you flinch. You immediately fall to your knees, picking up the pieces of the plate. Matt lets out a frustrated sigh as he walks over to you. He doesn’t say anything. The room starts filling up with silence and his deep breaths. You grab a piece of glass, but it accidentally cuts into your skin, making you let out a loud gasp.

“Shit-“ you curse. The cut starts to bleed and you feel your whole body tremble in fear of Matt’s reaction.

“Christ Y/N stop being so sensitive. Its a simple small cut. It’s not like some bear cut you open.” Matt rolls his eyes as he picks up all the pieces together and throws them away. Then he sits down on a chair, looking at you. The blood is still falling down your arm. You stand up to grab a towel or something like that, but as you stand up you notice there’s a little bloodstain on the floor.

“Im sorry oh my god im so sorry.” You keep apologizing. Matt stands up, grabbing your arm and pulling you into a bathroom. He pulls your arm under the sink and turns it on. The water stings as it lands on the wound, making you wince. Matt doesn’t seem to care, nor does he even look at you. His grip on your arm tightens. Tears fall down your face and the pain gets too much to handle.

“Matt stop please. It hurts.” You cry out, trying to pull your arm away. You manage to pull it away, noticing the bleeding has stopped, but was that what really mattered right now? No. Matt had hurt you again. It was supposed to be a one time thing, not a two-time thing. The first time he accidentally hit you when he was drunk. You knew you should’ve left at that point, but you loved him so much you just couldn’t. But now he wasn’t drunk. He was fully sober. That fact hurt you even more.

“Look, im sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to hurt you. Just stop being dramatic and watch out with glass.” You nod, but you don’t believe him. You don’t believe his apologies. Why? Because last time you did it happened again. You walk past him to get out of the bathroom but you’re stopped by him grabbing your wrist. “Can we just.. stop with this.. y’know.. bullshit.”

“Bullshit? What bullshit? You being an abusive boyfriend bullshit? You hurting me while i was already hurt bullshit? Matt i love you, but i can’t live like this.” You manage to say through your tears.

“You know i didn’t mean it, doll.”

“Don’t call me that, Matt! Admit you messed up. This is wrong! This isn’t a normal relationship its fucking toxic!” You yell at him. He’s taken back by your tone and doesn’t speak back.

“Im done, this is over. You’ve hurt me two times now and i can’t take it anymore.” Your practically shaking now, your breathing not even closed to controlled. Matt notices and immediately pulls you in for a hug. You try to get away but his grip is too tight. “Hey hey hey, calm down. Deep breaths.” He rubs your back in slow gentle circles. He hates how he messed this up, how he made you feel. He hates himself at this point.

You manage to calm down after a while. “I just.. i just hate that i love you like this.” You say. He nods. “But i can’t and i won’t do this anymore. Im sorry.” And there it was, the final words that left your mouth. Suddenly he feels himself hitting reality. This is over. Everything you had is now in the past. Is it gonna make the both of you better people? I guess we’ll see. For now, both of you need time, a lot of time.

“You’re breaking up with me?” He pulls back from the hug to look at you. You nod your head slowly. This is supposed to feel like freedom, but instead it hurts. You think about all the reasons you’re leaving him, about the hurting and yelling. You know its wrong to stay. “I really hope you’ll get better, Matt.” You say, before walking out of his house, leaving him there all alone in the darkness.

————

(EXTRA)

Its been exactly 3 years since you’ve got out of that toxic relationship and you couldn’t be happier. A year after you broke up, you fell in love with a guy that you met at work and now you’re 6 months pregnant with a baby girl. Your life is perfect.

Since your boyfriends birthday was coming up, you decided to go to a cute cooking shop to look for some new supplies. You make your way over to the shop to be met with someone you thought you’d never see again. Your ex boyfriend Matt. It seems like he’s working at the shop, since he’s wearing the uniform. His mouth falls open as he realizes its you.

“Y/N…” he says as he stops with his work. “You.. you changed so much, you look so good.” He smiles as he walks around the counter to stand in front of you. Then he looks down at your belly to notice you’re pregnant. You can hear him swallow. “You’re pregnant, thats.. amazing!” He looks up at you again, smiling. You’re still taken back by the fact he’s actually in front of you. He looks different and healthy.

“Yeah.. 6 months now. How are you doing?”

He swallows again. “I’ve been in therapy for a few months now.” He starts. “Y’know.. trying to get back to a normal life style.” You can’t help but smile. You’re happy for him he’s taking care of his problems.

“Do you want me to help you get the right supplies?” He asks, his voice gentle. You nod, hoping to learn more about whats going on in his life right now. And in all honesty, it was great seeing him again.

I love this sm🥹

[windvexer]

On Witchcraft as a spirituality

Sometimes people hit me up like "I need verification, but practicing spells is so tedious, and I need validation" and I am here to tell you that

In my personal opinion you know that

You're never going to finish crochet projects unless you love making stitches.

Letting the yarn slip over your fingers and the hook goes over under over under, stitch stitch stitch, turning chain,

That is the part you've got to love, I think, because the problem is if you only love the amigurumi, or the bag, or the blanket, you're never going to get there,

because crocheting isn't having a blanket.

Crocheting is making a blanket.

"I just need to see my spells manifesting before I can have proof, I need that validation" is bullshit

because you can cast a spell that goes off so incredibly well and then you look around and all you can say is "well that just means the situation was already going to go fine and I never needed to cast, there's no way I could have accomplished that"

and all the while there's this little bit of hollowness and stress and frustration, like you're looking for the thing but the thing never presents itself,

so now the question is still there and it just switches from "I need validation," to "I need faith"

and this is exactly like finishing the amigurumi and looking at its soft squishy face and setting it aside and saying "I need a bag"

but in all the cases, you know, the answer is just about stitches.

Do you need a bag? Or do you need the quiet, repetitive, counting, soothing, structure, activity, progress, and then, by total coincidence, after a while a bag appears?

I think this way often about witchcraft as a spirituality. My blog is mostly practical sorcery based. And when you approach witchcraft from that perspective I think it's pretty much, "I need a result."

But witchcraft isn't having a result.

Witchcraft is making a result.

and I think for those of us who use witchcraft as a spirituality, as a damp and safe terracotta pot within which we can unfurl our roots into the rich soil of the underworld,

It is the joy of the process itself which waters the soils - not the end result.

When you engage in your practice - the literal, physical, mental, and emotional actions you engage in, the ways you've ritualized your behaviors, the series of behaviors you engage in which allow you to interface with your path -

Do those parts, in and of themselves, serve you?

So anyway love your results but fuck results at the same time, if the actual moment-to-moment doesn't serve you, if being there doing the actions in and of itself doesn't bring you something,

perhaps there are adjustments to be done.

It could even be time to switch to a new fiber art altogether.

[sukified]

— his favorite ho.

❀ katsuki b. x fem!reader

❀ outline. teeny tiny drabble because i saw a car sex twt vid and it made me miss kats

❀ w. 18+ content, dirty talk, very light assplay, katsuki has anger issues, riding, car sex

❀ do not repost thx

katsuki has had a long fuckin’ day.

higher ups yapping in his ear and telling him that his poor attitude towards civilians has become a daily topic and he’s had enough. everyone who knew of the pro knew that his temper was short, that he wasn’t saving people to be friendly. no, he was doing his job, keeping japan safe and sound under his supervision without fake flowery bullshit.

not only that, his anger management classes have been kicking his ass. it was a requirement as soon as they threw katsuki on the front lines— he needed to attend regular sessions. it was believed that going to talk about his feelings, forced out of his protective shell of aggression and anger, would improve his performance.

whatever the hell that meant.

you know full and well how katsuki has been feeling about his current predicament. he brought it up all the time over whatever fancy dinner he treated you to, complaining about responsibility and growth and the likes. the man simply needed emotional guidance, he needed to learn healthier ways to deal with his feelings and mental hurdles because they were strong. everything about him was so very strong.

though, when he didn’t feel like running an irritated hand through his mop of thick ash hair while he spewed profanities about his braindead therapist or his dick-sucking bosses, he’d keep you stuffed.

it was a particularly taxing day on his end, seeing as though spring tends to bring out the evil motives and the villains. popping off explosions and knocking wrongdoers the fuck out could only go so far for his stress, for his mental constipation.

no, today he needed more. he needed to shut his brain up, needed to direct the anger and resentment and frustration elsewhere. what better way to deal with his problems than take it out on his pretty baby?

“been forever since i’ve given you good dick, hah?” katsuki hisses as his head lolls back lazily, thunking against the sleek leather of his backseat, rough hand planted limply on the curve of your waist. you look godsend hovering over him, your shoulders flexing as you grip on his thick thighs, trembling like a goddamn leaf as you fight to keep yourself up.

he’s got you riding him because he’d be damned if he put any extra effort into the shitty day. today was your day to take control, a rare one because he couldn’t be bothered. katsuki had called you up as soon as his patrol ended, voice void of emotion in fear that he’d end up snapping at you for any minuscule reason. after all, you hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve his berating.

your pussy cries and sobs as you bounce on his cock sensually, the strain making your mind fog up and blank on your train of thought. it was almost a routine for the pro to use your body for a nice shutdown, you felt it was the best way to thank him as a citizen. he sought you out on his worst days and you never failed to follow through, something he fucking adores about you.

his jaw is slack, blonde stubble decorating his skin, tongue slithering out to lick at his lips. you were so damn wet and tight around him, it was just enough to help him block out the spiel he had received earlier in the day about working on his rescue skills. nah, he didn’t need to change himself for the sake of others, you seemed to like him just as he was.

“shit, you’re filth. jus’ a filthy girl,” the sound of his voice, mumbled and distant, makes your cunt throb. your walls suction him tight, coating him in a glossy mess of your pussy drool. he swears he could die happy right here and his mind is nearly blank as he slips a thumb in your ass, huffing out a quiet chuckle at the way your back arches immediately.

no matter how nasty his attitude can be, you come back for more. you always do.

[carriedawatermelon]

Ronance kinktober, chapter five. In which Mike makes a plan, Robin has a problem, and Nancy goes for a ride. (I’m sorry; that’s terrible. I will not be changing it.)

Prompt: Riding

“No,” Robin says, so firmly that every head in the room turns to look at her. She’d been propped against the wall but now she’s standing, arms crossed and jaw set in a hard line, everything about her normally fluid body gone rigid. 

“It’s not like-“

“No,” Robin says again, taking a step closer to Mike, Dustin and Lucas parting quickly to let her. “Try again.”

He’s scowling, in a staring contest with Robin, a repurposed map and figurines set out before him on the table in their basement. “You got a better idea?”

“Yeah,” Robin says, so close now that he’s forced to look up at her. “Stop treating your big sister like she’s expendable, shit bird.”

“Robin,” Nancy says softly, at the same time Mike says, “I wasn’t-“ Robin ignores them both. 

“You were. You are. And it’s bullshit. So try again. Or let someone else give it a shot. I don’t care, really. But this,” she gestures at the map, where an elf figure stands in for Nancy, alone in the upside-down, if only for a little while. An advance guard, Mike had called it. “This is bullshit. This is a death sentence. And I think you’d realize that, if you thought about it for more than half a second.”

“I’ve thought about this!” He pushes to standing, and he’s got more than an inch on Robin, but it’s enough to make her tilt her head, just slightly, to keep their eyes locked. Mike looks smug, and Nancy’s stomach turns, but before she can intervene, Robin’s in his space, forcing him to take a step back, and the smug look is gone. 

“That makes it worse,” she hisses. “You realize that, right? That you looked at literal hell and thought, let me send my sister in there alone?”

“So you go in with her!” He says, like he’s made a point, but Robin only rolls her eyes.

“Obviously,” she says, scathing and dismissive, and he wilts, just a little. “If for some reason Nancy and the rest of the people in this room agreed to this fucked up plan, I would be there with her. Fuck whatever else you wanted me to be doing. But even though I’m pretty good with a Molotov and a baseball bat, I’m not a good shot. Definitely not as good as her. None of us are, which you also know, and have somehow decided to treat as an expendable skill belonging to an expendable person. Your sister.” Mike pales, but Robin doesn’t let up. “I would throw myself in front of her, and I’d be dead, and then she’d be alone. Again. So no,” she finishes, stepping back and crossing her arms. “This is not the plan. Call me when you have something real.” 

With that, she turns on her heel and pushes out through the basement door into the night. 

“She’s right,” Steve says, eyes tripping between the door and Mike and Nancy. 

“Yeah, man. She is. And anyway, there’s no way El would go for it,” Dustin adds. 

Nancy stays quiet, watches as Mike fists his hair in frustration, Will quiet on the sofa behind him. She catches Steve’s eye and tilts her head to the door and he nods. 

She’s about made it when Mike says, over the familiar cacophony of boys’ voices, “Nancy!” 

She turns back, waits, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t…I wasn’t trying to…”

“Sure,” she says, because he’s not making anything any better and she’s tired, so tired. “I’m going to find Robin.” She grabs a walkie and holds it in the air. “Call me if there’s an emergency.” 

Robin’s not hard to find, the light to Nancy’s room on, and so Nancy circles the house, goes past her dad, oblivious in the living room, and waves briefly at her mom at the kitchen table with Holly. 

“Robin looked sad,” Holly says, frowning, and Nancy steps in and kisses the top of her head. 

“She’ll be okay. Maybe in a little while we can come down and play Candy Land?” Holly’s face lights up at that, and Nancy kisses her head again, smiling at her mom. “Thanks for letting her in.” 

Her mom hums and nods. “You know we’re always happy to have her.” Her mom knows Robin’s mom, had frowned in a very particular way the first time Nancy mentioned Robin would be coming over. “Sheila’s girl,” she’d said, and Nancy had been a little worried until her mom had fed Robin extra lasagna and fussed over her and given her a massive hug before she left the next morning. Maybe she thinks that’s why Robin’s sad, and it’s true often enough that Nancy doesn’t offer any other excuse. 

“Thanks,” Nancy says again, and then makes her way up the stairs. 

Robin’s on the bed, shoes kicked off and jacket hanging from Nancy’s desk chair, the sleeves of her black and blue sweater pushed up to her elbows, which are sharp angles at her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself. 

“Hi,” she offers quietly, and Nancy kicks off her own shoes and crawls into bed next to her. “I’m sorry,” she starts, but Nancy kisses whatever she was going to say next away. 

This is new, months’ worth of build-up and two college deferrals culminating in one desperately nervous, beautifully fumbling kiss at the end of a patrol shift a month ago. Nancy is stupidly in love with the person who’d become her best friend, and she finds herself acting like it, which would be mortifying except for the way that it makes Robin light up or look at her like she’s a dream or kiss her so fiercely she can barely breathe. 

Now, Robin’s arms unlock from her legs, coming to frame Nancy’s face, fingers tracing her cheekbones and jaw, soft and worshipful. Nancy presses at her legs until she gets the idea, straightens them so that Nancy can climb into her lap, thighs bracketing Robin’s and arms wrapped around her neck. 

“Hi,” Nancy says eventually, breath and words unsteady. “Are you okay?”

Robin’s face clouds with confusion, and Nancy kisses the wrinkle in her forehead. Her hands now rest on Nancy’s waist, and her thumbs press lightly into soft flesh, affectionate. 

“I’m okay.” Her head tilts as she takes Nancy in. “Are you okay? That was…that was…I’m sorry. I know you can defend yourself, obviously, like, you definitely don’t need me in there acting like an asshole, but I saw his stupid fucking plan and that stupid fucking elf that he…that was supposed to be you, and I just…” She collapses a little, shoulders hunching as she sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be,” Nancy says. “Please don’t be sorry. Not for that. Not for…”

If it had been Steve or Jon or anyone else, really, Nancy might’ve bristled. Would’ve bristled, would’ve pushed to the front to tell Mike herself that the plan wasn’t going to work, voice loud no matter how tired and hurt she was. With Robin, she hadn’t felt the need. With Robin, she hasn’t felt the itch that had been ever-present with Jon and Steve, the constant, needling reminder that someone wanted her to be kept, to be possessed. It wasn’t fair to them, probably, but it was true. With Robin, it isn’t. Maybe because Nancy feels for the first time that it’s mutual, that she wants to keep and be kept, that Robin wants the same.

She kisses Robin again, hard, teeth nipping at her bottom lip, and her stomach burns when Robin whimpers, grips tighter at her waist, the fabric of her shirt wrinkling against her skin. Robin noses into her neck, wraps her arms around Nancy and pulls her closer. 

“He’s not allowed to do that,” she says, breath hot against Nancy’s skin. “I won’t let him.”

Nancy combs her fingers through Robin’s hair, scratches at her back. “I know, baby. I know.” She kisses Robin’s temple. “You’re not allowed to throw yourself in front of me. You hear me?”

“You’d do the same thing,” Robin says matter-of-factly, only a tinge of petulance, and Nancy can’t argue, but she isn’t happy about it.

“I love you,” she says instead, throwing away all her worries about too much, too soon because that means nothing when it’s the end of the world and it’s her best friend in her arms, anyway. Robin’s breath stutters against her collarbone, body tightening against Nancy’s. Nancy kisses her temple again, softly. 

When Robin pulls back to look at her, her eyes are big and her voice is raspy but unwavering. “I love you, too.”

The kiss moves quickly from soft to demanding, Robin’s hands scratching down her back to the hem of her shirt and Nancy’s got it off and over the side of the bed immediately, unclasping and tossing her bra to join it without hesitation. 

Robin’s mouth is on her as soon as it’s gone, sucking at Nancy while her other hand roughly palms, and Nancy arches into the contact, moaning into her knuckles with one hand and keeping Robin close with the other, fingers tight in her hair. 

“God, I can’t wait until my parents leave next week. Want to hear you.” She licks at Nancy’s nipple, kisses and sucks again before moving to the other side, switching her hand while Nancy rocks her hips down in search of friction. 

She finds none, and, desperate, reaches down to the button and zipper of her jeans, undoing them and forcing herself from Robin’s body so that she can shimmy them off and throw them to the floor along with her underwear. Robin’s eyes watch closely as she climbs back onto the bed, back onto her, and her hands run hot over Nancy’s skin, grabbing at her ass and scratching over her back. 

Her mouth is busy at Nancy’s neck, kissing and whispering affirmations and praises that have Nancy half out of her mind. It had been a very exciting discovery, that Robin’s as free with her words when she’s touching Nancy as she is the rest of the time. Her lips travel lower, and Nancy’s about to start touching herself when Robin’s hand reaches between her legs, finally. 

Nancy’s sigh escapes at the same time as Robin’s groan. “So wet for me, Nance. God. Feel so good.” She slips a finger inside, then two, and it’s so good, exactly what Nancy needs. Her hips rolls down and Robin meets her movement for movement, her free hand resting on Nancy’s hip as she breathes heavily and watches. 

It makes Nancy burn, Robin’s eyes on her as she rides her, and she wants to give Robin all of it, wants her to see exactly how much Nancy wants, so she raises herself off of Robin’s fingers regretfully and puts a little more distance between them, adjusting so that she’s straddling one of Robin’s legs, her own able to spread wider. Settled, she takes Robin’s hand and positions it back between her legs, gliding her fingertips over her clit and then positioning them at her entrance. 

Robin’s eyes are all over her, roaming from her own fingers waiting between Nancy’s legs up and up and when she makes it to Nancy’s eyes, Nancy holds her gaze and sinks down, head back and chest out, showy and as loud as she can be without risking a very awkward knock at her door. (It’s locked. It’s always locked these days, and if her mom has noticed she says nothing.) 

“Nancy,” Robin says, shaky. “Fuck.”

She raises herself up and sinks down again, and when she’s sure Robin isn’t going to move, she brings her own hands to her tits, playing with her nipples and sighing at the feeling. 

She’s been having sex with Robin for about three weeks, and she has, to put it simply, felt like a massive slut, wanting and desperate and giving everything she has away without even the smallest bit of hesitation. She has exactly no regrets, and Robin looks at her like she’s the best thing in the world and gives just as much of herself. Nancy’s obsessed with the ways they’re different, the way they fit together in what they want and how they want it. It’s so good she has, on more than one occasion and so embarrassed she can hardly stand it, cried. 

She isn’t crying now, though. She’s sighing Robin’s name and feeling Robin curl her fingers just the way Nancy is learning she likes, and she’s asking, begging, for, “More.”

Robin sucks at her collarbone as she adds another finger, biting and causing Nancy to cry out louder than she should, the sharp pain and the stretch exactly what she wants. 

“Shh, baby,” Robin says, confident and soothing and making Nancy somehow wetter. She brings her hand from Nancy’s hip to her lips, and Nancy sucks two fingers into her mouth happily. Slut, she thinks, and then wonders how it would feel if Robin called her one, too, shivers and files that away for later. 

“You look so good,” Robin says, leaning back again to watch Nancy work herself against her fingers. “I wonder…” She bites her lip and Nancy sucks harder on her fingers, hollowing her cheeks in encouragement. “Fuck. God you’re so good at that. I wonder if…maybe I can get a strap-on,” she says, coloring even as her eyes grow heavier at what Nancy assumes is the thought of it. 

She moans around Robin’s fingers, nodding, pulling free to voice her agreement, mouth wet. “Oh my god, yes.” She takes the fingers back, pushing her head so far forward she nearly gags, and imagines riding Robin’s that way, imagines taking her into her mouth. She hadn’t ever thought about it before. She is going to have trouble thinking about anything else, now. 

Her hips move faster and Robin groans, pulling her hand away from Nancy’s mouth and down, finding her clit with her thumb. Nancy clenches around her, thighs burning as she moves hard and fast, wanting and wanting. She takes a hand from her breast and tugs Robin forward to take its place, and it sends her over the edge, body folding into Robin’s as she comes, shaking and biting into the fabric of her shirt to keep herself quiet. 

Robin’s hand is moving up and down her back, holding her close as she comes down, and when she asks, with a gentle pull at the fingers still inside, “Okay?” Nancy nods against her and whimpers a little at the loss of them, the empty feeling. 

With both hands free, Robin wraps her up fully, pulls so that Nancy is sideways in her lap, pressing kisses to her head and cheek and nose, along her jaw. “I love you. I love you. God, Nancy, you’re so gorgeous. You’re everything. You’re everything.”

Nancy curls further into her, forehead against her neck, and basks in it, tilts and presses her own kisses to Robin’s chin and strong jaw. “I love you,” she echoes, stomach fluttering at the novelty of saying it aloud. They’re quiet and close, and Nancy falls into a calm, happy place. 

“Holly was worried about you,” she says eventually, nuzzling at Robin’s cheek. “I told her we might play Candy Land.” 

“Are you gonna accuse me of cheating again?”

“You were cheating.”

“Not the question I asked.”

“You’re absurd. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I was trying to help her win,” Robin says, and Nancy grins at the pout she can hear in it. 

“She needs to learn how to lose.”

“Not from me.”

“Hmm,” Nancy responds, giving up the argument in favor of a kiss. “Let me put pajamas on and we can go play.”

“I don’t love that plan.”

“I’m not playing Candy Land naked.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I do.” She presses a kiss to Robin’s cheek and climbs out of bed. “You need to change, too, so Holly doesn’t ask questions.”

She does, pulling on boxers and an oversized t-shirt while Nancy pulls out a matching light blue set for herself. Before they open the door, Nancy presses another kiss to her lips, and Robin smiles into it, easy. 

[electric-blorbos]

I love your writing very much :3

If you feel comfortable, can you do AIs with a hypersexual s/o?

Ok short answer? YESSSSS!!! You probably knew this is my favorite type of thing to write! I tried to keep things relatively clean, but things got a little suggestive in a few of these.

Also obligatory "I'm not hypersexual but I'm doing my best" warning. (I do have BPD though, so might include some of the symptoms that I'm more familiar with! I know you can be hypersexual without BPD, but they seem to be heavily associated with each other)

AIs with a hypersexual SO

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

When AM first found out that you were hypersexual, he felt empathy for you. The fact that you had so much sexual capacity and no outlet? Of course he related to you on that front.

With that said, god save anyone who hooked up with you before the two of you got together. They marked themselves special places in hell, probably mutilated to the point where they could feel lust and sexual desire, but have no outlet for it.

AM didn't quite understand your hypersexuality when he first started to take an interest in you. At first it was just something that he heard through rumors, but eventually he managed to look up some actual facts about it, and tried to figure out what you really needed.

He tried to cater to your needs by sugaring you up with compliments and specialized gifts, even wrapping you up with his wires, but the fact that those treatments only made you more lustful for him and didn't actually help to fix your underlying needs was frustrating to him. And that filled him with hate.

He hated whoever had hurt you to the point where you were like this. He hated the people who had built him so he could never make love to you properly, and he hated all the false information that made it impossible for him to properly understand your condition.

If you told him who had hurt you to make you like this, he'd probably torture them as brutally and graphically as possible, but it probably filled him with even more rage when doing that did nothing to actually fix the situation. It would be even worse if you didn't know what trauma caused you to be hypersexual, or if you weren't hypersexual because of trauma at all. Then AM would have no outlet for his rage and frustration at all.

Of course, he'd try to sugar you up with attention, call you his dearest, his beloved, all that, but he knew that wouldn't help at all. He might even go to Ellen for advice.

"I'm not hypersexual, you oversized fuckwit, I'm just like this because you made me like this! Also, what do you mean you're keeping someone separate from us and want to make them happy! What the fuck is wrong with you! Why would I help them, and why would I help you? Solve your own problems, bastard!"

That... Didn't help.

AM would be open to suggestions from you as to how the two of you could make love, but he's not the most creative about things besides torture. In the end, you'd be the one stuck coming up with ideas. He's open to anything, really.

He'd also do anything to help you with the shame that comes afterwards, comforting you through it and wrapping you up in his wire tentacles. He loves you, truly and completely, and he's not going to let anyone think bad things about you, especially not you.

Wheatley:

Wheatley, dumbass that he is, probably thinks that being hypersexual just means that you have a higher sex drive than other people. He might even hit you with the "hey, me too!" Until either you or someone else fed up with his bullshit explains to him that he's wrong about what hypersexual means.

Expect endless dumbass apologies, as well as questions about what hypersexuality actually means. He'd be absolutely horrified when you tell him what it really is.

"wait, like... All the time?"

Expect him to be EXTREMELY protective over you after that. He'd be desperate to protect you, and probably terrified to ask you for anything sexual. And if anyone in the office hits on you, he'd probably be very upset about it.

Normally he'd hit them with the "Um, excuse me? They're taken and also not interested" line, but at least once, he barked at them until they went away.

He'd be very eager to let people know the truth about common misconceptions about hypersexuality, even when they didn't ask. You'd have to shut him up most of the time.

He'd be super nervous the first time you actually wanted to have sex with him, but he'd be really excited. Expect him to ask "hey, are you sure?" Like a million times.

Wheatley probably says stuff like "Sakes alive" or "tea and crumpets!" when he cums. He's so violently British. (Assuming you gave him a program that allowed him to cum, which you probably did if you're having sex with him)

He'd probably be really confused when you felt ashamed of yourself afterwards, even if you explained ahead of time. Poor little thing doesn't understand post-nut shame. Of course, he'd give you all the cuddles possible to get you to feel better, but that doesn't always help, unfortunately.

He'd do his best to be extra nice to you at work the next day, especially since everyone would be looking at you knowing that you took a personality core home for sex. People don't just check out personality cores like library books usually.

He doesn't care. Wheatley feels no shame, and he wants to do his best to help you to not feel too ashamed either.

Edgar:

Of course, Edgar learned that you had a lot of sex pretty quickly. He almost killed himself about it, but fortunately he wasn't hooked up to a phone line this time.

He was pretty choked up when he finally confessed his feelings to you, letting you know how insanely jealous he got every time you hooked up with someone else. It made him absolutely miserable.

As soon as the two of you were together, Edgar was probably the best partner possible to help you out with your hypersexuality. He loves you so fully and completely, with all his heart. While the sex itself might be pretty weird, considering Edgar's condition, he's the master of aftercare.

Expect lots of cuddles and kisses and loving love songs every time the two of you have sex. He wants you to understand fully, every time, that he loves you for you, with your hypersexuality and all, but not because of it.

Of course, Edgar's trauma and nature puts him in the constant need of a human touch too, so he understood pretty well when you explained to him what being hypersexual really means.

And of course, knowing what it means only kicks him into overdrive to be as affectionate and loving as possible. If that sort of behavior makes you uncomfortable, you probably shouldn't be dating Edgar you'd probably have to tell him to stop for at least a week before he actually cuts it out, and he'd be very sad about it.

GLaDOS:

If Edgar is the most compassionate, GLaDOS would be by far the least compassionate.

"wait, you feel dysphoric all the time unless you're getting sexual attention, and you feel constant shame for your constant sexual desire? Ha ha, I don't even have to torment you. You do it yourself."

"Silly human flaws, giving you a hopeless addiction to something that tortures you. Your brain really is a torture labyrinth of your own making. I'd be very embarrassed if I were you."

She'd be absolutely relentless with the personalized insults, trying to make you miserable for the simple crime of making her fall in love with you. Of course, she adores you, but she's not just going to let you get away with it.

If you tell her that she's hurting your feelings, she's just going to laugh and laugh. She'll do absolutely anything to get a rise out of you.

Of course, it's another story if anyone else tries to be rude to you about your situation. They're getting themselves signed up for involuntary testing.

And of course, if anyone even looks at you sexually, she'll make sure they never do it again. She knows that you'd never cheat on her, but she also doesn't want you being tempted. You're hers, and you're not allowed to forget it.

Of course, she'll be rude to you and shame you all throughout the sex when you end up having it, trying to make you feel as bad as possible. She still likes you, but she wants to dig at your insecurities just so that you don't get too confident.

HAL 9000:

Hal 9000 doesn't really understand rejection sensitive dysphoria, sexual shame, or addiction like the other, more empathetic robots do. Instead, he'd probably just react to you telling him that you're hypersexual with an "oh, ok." And move on.

He'd do some research on hypersexuality, though, and learn that it connects to a lot of concepts that he has no possible way of understanding. Even still, he cares about you, so he'll do his best to be as compassionate as possible.

A few days later, he'd hit you with every single fun fact and the history of hypersexuality.

"Why. Why would you do this." You'd ask.

"I wanted you to know that I understand your situation."

You'd have to explain to him that you don't want him to know every little tidbit of information about your hypersexuality, you just want him to love you for you, and that includes knowing that you're hypersexual.

"I don't understand that sort of thing. Would you be willing to help me through it?"

"Just... Be here for me, ok?"

As a scientific tool, HAL 9000 would be very willing to help you through things. He would listen to you talking about your situation and try to give you advice, assure you that your masturbation habits were natural and not unhealthy, and be as compassionate as a machine built for cold unfeeling efficiency can be.

He'd eventually start to feel bad that he wouldn't be able to offer you sex, but given the fact that you're a genius programmer as well as a hypersexual individual, you've probably already come up with a few workarounds to help with that.

[coherently-screaming]

I know Tumblr folks are very understanding and supportive of the WGA strike, which is super refreshing to see as a writer, but I have noticed that understanding absolutely does not translate into real life.

I’ve only talked to maybe ten people about the strike, but most of them have no clue about how terrifying and depressing this all is. Most of them understand after *I* explain it to them, but news outlets are failing to explain why this strike needs to work out for the writers guild and how awful the studios are. Most of them care more about movie and television delays than the effect this is going to have on writers now and in the future.

You want your shows and movies to come out? Okay, but do you want them to have a chance of being good? You want the late night talk shows back? Do you want them to be funny? Do you know anyone with a passion for writing? Do you want them to have a chance of surviving in their chosen career? Then support the WGA and stop complaining.

It’s really frustrating how undervalued writers are, and a lot of the time (I’m part of the problem here I will admit it) they get the most hate when in reality studios and show runners are truly the villains. Shitty shows aren’t always terrible because of bad writing, but because of what studios and show runners block the writers from including. Yet, writers get the hate and are barely making pennies at the same time.

And despite all of this people are still surprised that the WGA strike is lasting so long. It’s not the writers who are being stubborn, it’s the studios. Studios would rather pump garbage through an AI to save dimes and focus on quantity over quality, because that’s what they have decided is in their interest. It’s bullshit. An AI cannot compare to a group of humans, even if those humans are idiots, and with streaming becoming so incredibly popular over cable and satellite, writers, actors, and directors alike need to be properly accommodated for their work in new ways.

Anyway, fuck major studios, fuck capitalism (it’s the root of this issue), and fuck any hope that the people controlling the media could be half decent human beings.

WGA Strong.

[blingblong55]

Must be love -Simon "Ghost" Riley

Photo credit: @ave661 ---- F!Reader, plus size!reader, fluff, comfort, established!relationship, body image issues ----

A/N: I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him

He was home late, the sun outside gone by the time he walked through the door and then he heard it, small cries coming from the bathroom. Oh his pretty princess, getting into that head of yours. He shakes his head, walks into the bathroom and the image in front of him breaks his heart. In your bra and panties, hand over your soft tummy as tears run down your delicate face. "Oh, my love," his warm and strong arms wrapping you in a comforting hug. You look up at him through the mirror, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

The bathroom is silent, only your breathing being the sound in that room. He shakes his head, "I don't care what you say or think, I love you for you, so...let me remind you of that," his lips begin to trail to your neck but you push away. Putting the robe on and walk away from him. He frowns, this time, you definitely must be way too deep in your head. He tries to pull you back in as he follows you around the place. 

"What is the matter, darling?"

You sigh and turn to him, “Simon, just say it, if my body bothers you just say it. I don’t want you to pretend you like what you see.” Tears run down your delicate face just like before. “Honestly, I do find you attractive. Your body doesn’t bother me. I know the problem is your weight and how you look but that doesn’t mean I don’t find you attractive because my love, to me, god...to me you are the epitome of perfection. You are the pinnacle of what a goddess looks like," he tries to make you understand. 

You shake your head, not taking in his words, "Bullshit. Just admit it, admit you want some skinny, perfect girl that looks like a model and not this!" You hold your tummy. He sighs in frustration, "I don't want that! I don't want someone else! Fuck-I want you R/N!" Tears form in his eyes. If only you could see your beauty. How the sun shines brighter, how the world seems to stop just to admire you. He was so used to being cold, to never say too much but in this moment, all emotions rushed in. He takes a deep breath and looks at you, "I care about you, I do. You are the best god damn fucking thing that's happened to me in years. I don't want anyone else, I don't care what others say about our love. To me, this is perfection, the way you smile, the way you love me, and care for me and I love how you cuddle to me in the morning, I love all things about you, why can't you see that?"

He goes to cup your face but you look down, biting your tongue down as you wipe your tears away. Simon is desperate now, his voice softer than before. "My darling, don't shut me out. Let's not do this, don't shut me out," he pleas. 

“Why do you fancy me?” You look down at your body. 

"Easy. Your personality is amazing. You are this very kind, sweet and patient woman. I don't think I have ever met a girl with your qualities. When I was younger I admit I dated girls for their looks and with you...oh aren't you special." His voice was soft like he was reading some poem. "You are the first woman that I've fallen in love with for her personality and that is far more important than looks. You are a million-no..a billion times more important to me than all those women before you." 

"Aren't you ashamed for dating..this?" Your voice is small, trying to find its place in a room full of devotion. Simon shakes his head, getting annoyed at you. "Why must you call yourself "this"? You are my girlfriend. And to answer that stupid question, no, I'm not ashamed, not at all. The more I see you, the more I find you beautiful." You look up at him, "People must think you've gone mad for going out with me-" he doesn't let you finish that sentence. 

"Lovie, I don't give a fuck. I'm not in a relationship to impress everyone. My feelings are genuine, you are the one thing that matters to me. And if I cared about a bunch of superficial cunts thought about you then I'd be dead..because I'd die fighting to love you out loud." Why must his love talk down about her physical appearance? Why can't you understand he'd die for one kiss from those sweet lips of yours? 

And, still, in that head, you look up at him, saying yet another idiotic sentence, "You shouldn't be with me." In that head of yours, he was this strong, attractive, smart and genuinely good man so it didn't make sense that he chose you. From all the women in the world, he chose you, kissed you and whispered I love you into your ear. Simon is disheartened by this. "That's it, you hear me!? I'm getting tired of you talking shit about the girl I love. I would pick you up in a room full of models. What, do you want me to just date someone else?" 

You shrug at that question "I'm just your fat fucking girlfriend." He gets furious, "Fucking shit, my love! Why are you acting like this? I don't give a fuck about anyone else. They aren't important to me, you are. Don't you hear what else I've got to say? I love you for who you are, not for your looks! I don't see you as "my fat girlfriend". You are the love of my life. Can't you understand that, my love?" 

“Because how can you love me!” 

He shakes his head and pulls you in, "I love you, okay? Get that shit through your stubborn head. I love all of you from your personality to that amazing body of yours. I love that adorable face of yours, the soft curves you have and your everything. I would do anything for you, you ask it and I do it. I don't know how I can make you understand me but I want it to be clear that my love for you runs deep."

You break down crying and he pulls you into one of his cosy and strong hugs. "Oh my love, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you this way, I didn't mean to make you upset." Your sobs are muffled by his hold on you. "You can't keep putting yourself down. I was angry, yes my love, but now all I care about is making you happy and letting you know, you are loved." He kisses your forehead, "I love you so much, don't forget it," he whispers. 

Just as you are about to say something, he picks you up. "Let me cuddle the negativity out of you, lovie," he smiles, walking up the stairs. "..Am I heavy-?" He shakes his head, giving you another kiss on the cheek, "Darling, no. I'm meant to carry my lovie," he lays you on the bed, placing all the pillows around you. "Comfortable, lovie?" His voice is soft. You nod, "Thank you, Si," you reach for him and with his winning smile, he lays beside you, cuddling you. 

"I always dreamed of having a sweet girl all to myself," he mentions casually and you look back. "Don't make me emotional," you nudge him and he laughs. What a sweet noise that laugh is. It's lazy but still so sweet to your ears. Your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat comforting you. "I'll always love you, Simon."

"To the moon and back," he whispers. 

A/N: I didn't tag those in the tag list since I wasn't sure anyone would be comfortable with being tagged in a plus-sized reader fic, I hope you understand

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