#making it more toxic and desperate is what I guess I'm saying

[authorafterhours]

I want an au where Will corrupts Hannibal. Well, more than he does in canon by making him more human anyway.

Hannibal certainly wouldn't be an innocent maiden to be seduced, but a man so sure of himself and his desires that only causes his fall from grace to be all the longer when he meets him.

He's not sure Will is even a man of flesh and blood.

Will would not be a dainty, doe-eyed young thing set to beguile. The power held in his body, the roughness of his labored hands, the sensation of his beard rubbing against Hannibal's skin, all of it masculine underscored with a beauty that should be immortalized in a museum.

Make it a period piece with Hannibal being plagued by this addiction with a mouth to laugh, a heart to beat, lips to kiss, and with legs Will uses far too often to run away from him.

I've seen Nosferatu today. Can you guys tell?

[chantillyxlacey]

i've seen a lot of takes (i am using the word 'take' absolutely neutrally here; and i'm specifying neutrality bc i have started to see that word as having inherently negative connotations in this context and i have no idea if that's just a Me Problem but i figured specificity couldn't hurt)

okay, that got away from me, let me start again

i've seen a lot of takes about The Damsel that have to do with idealization being another kind of dehumanization and how she's Like She Is because you/TLQ are projecting a fantasy onto her and sanding away any traits that don't fit into that fantasy and rendering her into little more than a vessel for your/TLQ's wish fulfillment

and i don't necessarily think that's *wrong* either-- but i think that's also not the complete picture, and that only looking that that half of the image does kind of tend to paint TLQ in an unfairly bad light

because the thing is, in The Damsel's route, TLQ is ALSO being reduced to an archetype just as much as The Damsel herself is! The Princess becomes the quintessential fairytale fair-maiden-in-distress that exists only to be rescued by a knight-in-shining-armor; and TLQ-- if you allow them to be guided entirely by The Smitten-- becomes that quintessential fairytale knight-in-shining-armor that only exists to rescue the fair-maiden-in-distress

The Damsel says over and over, explicitly, that "I just want to make you happy!" and The Smitten in this route is equally preoccupied with making HER happy-- he even says it directly if you start deconstructing her. every other part of his identity has been subsumed to revolve entirely around her just as much as the reverse is true for her.

(speaking of the Deconstructed Damsel, i've also seen Smitten's reaction to that touted as him not caring about her agency-- but again, i always read that as him being unable to see any flaws in her rather than being pleased with the idea of her being biddable, specifically. if you halt the deconstruction his reaction is "she's ALWAYS been perfect" -- he'd think that no matter what she did or said, because his identity revolves around her the exact way that hers revolves around him/TLQ)

even the actions that lead to HEA fit into this, i think-- i read that moment as less The Smitten lashing out at her because she didn't live up to his fantasy-- it still happens even after she's said "i guess we can stay, if that's what you want"-- she's giving The Smitten what he wants, but he's still distressed because SHE'S not happy

i think it's more The Smitten feeling that HE hadn't lived up to HIS half of their shared fantasy. if she's not happy with the idea of "all we need is each other" then it must be because HE failed somehow. if she needs or wants more than him, it must be because HE is not enough.

if he was just better at playing his part, if he just offered her more, if he was just clearer about his devotion--

"if we just showed her the contents of our heart, she'd be happy"

that's not to say that what The Smitten does in HEA isn't incredibly toxic for both of them-- it definitely is, and it clearly makes both the Princess and TLQ miserable. "everything she doesn't know she wants" is a bad mindset to approach a relationship with, whether that mindset is reached through controlling selfishness or a desperation to appease (and i definitely think Smitten is motivated by the latter-- it's no coincidence that we arrive at HEA through a literal and fatal act of self mutilation)

he's definitely the antagonist of HEA, in that he is what TLQ and the Princess and the player need to overcome, but he's not a VILLAIN (which i think is most clearly illustrated in the moment where the Princess admits she's unhappy, that she's never been happy here, and his reaction is to GIVE UP instead of lash out harder)

i never got the sense that The Smitten was ever putting any blame on The Damsel-- he always considered *himself* to be the problem-- he puppeteers TLQ just as much as he does the Princess, even if we can't hear him while she can, and he asks TLQ/the player through her "isn't this enough? isn't this what you wanted?"

which in and of itself is an unhealthy way to approach a relationship-- blaming oneself for every bit of conflict or lapse in synchronicity is just as harmful as laying all the blame on the other person. there IS no blame-- sometimes people disagree or have conflicting needs or desires, and that's not anybody's "fault" because that's just how people and relationships WORK.

...can you believe i wrote out all of this when my original intention was to lay out an entirely different point about a read on The Damsel/HEA routes that wasn't about relationships at all?

OKAY!

THAT GOT AWAY FROM ME LET ME START AGAIN

so i don't think that looking at The Damsel/HEA through a lens of "what does this say about relationships and expectations and respecting other people's agency" is incorrect-- clearly i have a lot of thoughts about that lens!

but i wanted to offer another one that i haven't seen yet:

The Damsel/HEA route as a commentary on what makes a satisfying narrative

if you play out The Damsel route just single-mindedly taking actions to free her-- it's kinda dull, isn't it? like-- it's not without its charms! The Smitten is silly and entertaining and the Narrator's exaggerated pettiness is very funny! but ultimately, that's about it.

potential sources of conflict are brushed aside-- if you took the blade with you, you just drop it and it gets forgotten; the Damsel's hand slips right out of the manacle with no effort or harm; when the Narrator locks the basement door, every 'choice' you make just magically unlocks it right away. and then you're outside, what you wanted to do from the start. ...so what do we do now?

nothing, actually. the chapter ends, and there is no chapter 3. the game itself continues, but that ending feels about as substantial as the Narrator's "Good Ending" where you follow his instructions without question and accomplish his goal immediately.

if you DON'T take either of the actions that lead to one of Damsel's chapter 3's, there's very little variation in The Damsel's story-- pretty much all of it comes down to slight differences in dialogue. there's no "the princess kills you" outcome. the closest thing to an alternate end to The Damsel is if you deconstruct her-- and even then, it feels like less an "alternate route" and more like-- a cheeky acknowledgement of the lack of substance, because that isn't a bug, it's a feature!

but if you introduce conflict-- either in the more direct sense by slaying The Damsel or in the more interpersonal sense by highlighting a mis-match in her and TLQ's desires-- suddenly the story opens up! there are a bunch of new possibilities and a bunch of new outcomes, and all of them are more interesting than "you achieve your goal with trivial effort, hooray!"

Even if you wind up finishing HEA on a note that is superficially very similar to the easy end of The Damsel's route-- you leave hand in hand with her, the narrator conceding defeat, and the last image of her before TSM takes her is a warm, tender smile-- it FEELS so much more like a genuine happy ending-- even though the Princess' face is still streaked and stained from her tears. BECAUSE of that.

it's one of the most heartwarming moments in the game, and one that has made me misty eyed every time i've seen it, and it's BECAUSE of the conflict you had to go through to get there.

conflict is what drives a compelling narrative, is the takeaway. it precludes PERFECT endings, perhaps, but not happy endings-- it's what makes those imperfect happy endings feel substantial and earned.

even the dinner and the board game contribute to the idea-- the description of the food is some really lovely writing, to the point where i sat through and listened to it all again even though i knew nothing really happens during it-- but *nothing really happens during it*. it doesn't move the narrative forward-- you're just as hungry as you were when you started. it just stalls the story in place, and every time you go through it again it's less satisfying until it's outright unpleasant. the description of the meal also notably gets simpler each time, and less detailed-- there's only so much that you can say about it before you run out of things to describe.

the board game is similar-- the way that it's described the first time you play even sounds like the description of an exciting story! and then the board resets, and you do it all again just the same. and so on. the game/story stops being exciting and the wins or losses stop feeling like they mean anything-- because is conflict really conflict, is a challenge really a challenge, if you're always tracing the same path, always making moves where you already know the outcome? it becomes "a slog towards the end"

and this is how i tie the idea of "what Damsel/HEA has to say about relationships" and "what Damsel/HEA has to say about narratives" together:

ultimately, the statements can be summarized the same way "whether in a narrative or a relationship, 'perfection' is unattainable, but you wouldn't actually want it anyway"

conflict, substance, variety

in a relationship there will always be differences of opinion, differing goals etc-- variety between the members of the relationship, knowing and sharing this substantial and non-superficial information about one another, navigating the resultant conflict-- that's what allows the relationship to grow and deepen, and what allows the people in it to grow as individuals as well.

in a narrative, or in Narratives, as a whole, conflict is what makes things HAPPEN, substance makes them feel like what happens MATTERS, like something is being communicated, variety means that you're learning or considering something new-- and those are what make a narrative capable of impacting a person, of changing them, of being remembered

[missmugiwara]

You Said To Go All Out

Summary: afab!reader x Gojo // What happens when Satoru pretends to be your boyfriend for Christmas Eve and meets your family? Need any more be said? Warning: 18+, suggestive, fluff, crack fic?, Gojo being insufferable, Gojo being a daddy, Gojo fighting toxic masculinity, slight mention of sex and pregnancy, second-hand embarrassment Note: I'm such a ho ho ho for Satoru.

✦ Word count is 4.5k. ✦

"So tell me what's off the table."

"Nothing. I want you to go all out."

You reached forward to push the doorbell. The muted chime let you know it indeed worked. Seemed like your father fixed it since the last time you visited. You cleared your throat and shuffled under your coat to appear more presentable. There was a brief period of silence as you and Satoru Gojo stood still, your hot breaths omitting little clouds into the cold winter air. A second more and Gojo let out a snicker.

"Are you serious?"

"I am. Go crazy! Give 'em that Gojo charm."

The tall man next to you tipped his head back and let out a laugh. He seemed very amused. Did you realize the effect of your words though? Maybe you were just too hyper focused to think rationally, but you did just basically give Satoru Gojo permission to be unhinged.

Something he was quite good at.

So what was the permission for? Simply put, you were sick of visiting your parents for the holidays because every damn time they asked if you had a special someone in your life yet. Of course, as the eldest of the siblings, the extra added pressure was on. Pressure that was unwarranted and unneeded. You were not sure if you could go through it again without screaming. So when Gojo saw you deep in thought instead of paying attention to your students at Jujutsu High, he asked what the matter was. As soon as your eyes laid upon him, you broke out into a smile. Eagerly, you asked if he could pretend to be your boyfriend for dinner on Christmas Eve.

Honestly, you weren't sure what he would say. Thoughts of being humiliated had not even crossed your mind - that is until he just stared at you in thought with a wicked smirk pulling the corners of his mouth upward. That look made you second guess everything.

"Why should I help you out anyway?"

"Satoru, please! I'll do anything you want!"

Your breath caught in your lungs as soon as those words left your mouth. Why did you say that? Ugh, so desperate. His teasing tone made your face flush with heat. He hummed as he leaned in, peering at you somehow through that blindfold of his.

"Aaaanything I want?"

With a nervous smile, you stared at his gorgeous pink lips and then his eyes (or at least you thought you were making eye contact). No time to rethink this. Especially with Satoru tyring to outdo your confidence right then and there. You would not let him break you. Besides, couldn't he just agree? He was an old friend anyway! This was not even the craziest thing you two had done before.

"Yes!"

"Okay. I'll pick you up at three."

He pulled back with a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets and whistling a tune. Before he closed the classroom door, he chuckled and gave you one more glance.

"Oh, this will be so good."

Fast forward to Christmas Eve. There you two were, dressed to impress and standing at your parents' door. It had been a moment, and still no one answered, so you pushed the doorbell again.

Gojo continued to press you.

"So hand holding?"

"Yup."

"Kisses?"

"Only on the cheek!"

"Can I propose?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't care - wait. You have a ring on you?"

When you whipped your head to face him, he just grinned and started cackling.

"I might." he purred, then explained the one he had was a family heirloom passed down in the Gojo clan. Naturally, you grabbed his arm and shook your head - telling him he could not just use such an important and sentimental item for this little, white lie. However, maybe your parents would actually believe a marriage proposal. You had known Gojo since you were kids, but you weren't sure if your parents would remember him that well. Would it look crazy?

"How about no proposal? That might be too much. Otherwise, just throw everything you've got into this, okay? You can talk about getting married, job stuff, buying a house, whatever."

"Can I talk about sex?"

"Absolutely not!"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you pouted at him. He gave an innocent smile in turn.

"Alright, I'll behave… for now."

He turned toward you, letting his dark sunglasses slip from his nose as he gave a little eyebrow waggle. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from smiling because you needed to be firm with him. Not laugh and indulge him. It was no good as you pulled your scarf up to cover your smirk - something he did notice.

"You dog."

"That the best you got? I've been called worse."

A small squeak escaped your throat when Gojo's hand lightly tapped your ass.

"Satoru!"

"You said to go all out."

He smirked again. You opened your mouth, about to scold him, when all of a sudden the door flung open. Your mother squealed in delight and clasped her hands together upon seeing her beloved eldest child with their boyfriend. She profusely apologized for the wait, babbling on and on about how excited she was to see everyone, how she never saw you ever because you were always off doing jujutsu work, and oh - to see Gojo-san again after so many long years was a nice treat.

"Oh, my! Look at how tall you are! You are just a gorgeous creature!"

"Mooooom! Don't!" you stomped your foot on the ground, but you were clearly ignored as your mother reached out to grab Gojo by the arm. He snickered at how embarrassed you were and turned back to your mother.

"Oh, stop, please! I can't take this!" he smirked with a facetious tone which only made your mother howl in laughter.

"And look at this! Such a gentleman! He even brought my baby flowers!"

"Oh no, the bouquet is for you, ma'am." he handed over the stunning arrangement of red and white roses, adorned with a few pinecones and some candy canes mixed inbetween them all, tied together with a golden ribbon.

"Thank you for inviting me into your home. And, oh - I didn't know good looks ran in the family."

In the middle of hanging your coat and then Gojo's, your eyes widened at that comment. Gojo was definitely overdoing it and then some! After dear old Mom grabbed the flowers, she just started laughing and muttering oh my, oh my over and over. Well, at least Gojo had stolen her heart. This could all actually be believable. She turned her back for one second to let you two finish settling in, and you slapped Gojo on the arm as he was about to walk off. Stop it, you mouthed. He froze. Then, after eyeing you up, he gave you a push in turn as you nearly toppled over since you were removing your shoes and were a bit off balance. A cheap shot. Surely, he forgot how much stronger he was because you landed into the wall silently, nearly sliding down it (you didn't want your mother to see, so you tried so hard to be mute). Gojo twitched at you form clutching at the wall and swiftly hooked his arm beneath yours to steady you as he uttered a bunch of apologies.

Your eyes met, and you growled at him. The only thing you got in turn was another smirk and a stifled laugh. So you slapped him again, this time on the chest. He squinted his eyes. And he lightly slapped your arm in turn. Then you did it again. Then he did it again. Then arms started flailing everywhere. Then it turned into some stupid little slap fight straight out of a sitcom. When your mother called, you both immediately froze. She ushered you two into the dining room and in synch, you and Gojo merrily chased after her amidst the fluster.

When finally in the dining room, you gave hugs to your two sisters - one home from college and the other home from the Kyoto Jujutsu school (a teacher like yourself) - and greeted your dad sitting grumpily at the head of the table. You introduced Satoru as your boyfriend, and of course your sisters were immediately won over at how cute and tall he was. After that settled down, you placed presents under the Christmas tree and sat next to your beloved Satoru at the opposite head of the table. Among all the small chat, your mother came bustling in with an apron tied around her waist.

She frowned at Satoru, "Oh, honey, we're indoors. Take off your glasses!"

"No!" you slammed your hands on the table, and everyone turned to you with perplexed expressions. Realizing you were making an idiot of yourself, you stuttered. Your family was not super versed in jujustu, save for you and one sister, but you didn't want to explain how Satoru… um, functioned.

"Uh… um, he has… sensitive eyes!"

Satoru chuckled, extending out a hand to lay atop yours. He hummed in amusement as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

"I have excellent eyes." he drawled out, giving a small wink as you pouted.

"Don't be so modest, sweetheart." he purred, gripping the edge of his glasses between his thumb and index finger, "Besides, I don't want to be rude."

With a charming smile, Satoru removed his glasses. They brushed ever so lightly against his bangs, the white hair perfectly rolling off them. He opened his blue eyes, batting his snowy-white lashes before his gaze turned lidded. Okay, damn - but why did he have to make it so attractive? Your sisters sat at the edge of their seats, gasping as their faces broke out into wide smiles and for some reason, they grabbed onto each other and screamed. You slapped a hand over your forehead, groaning into the sky.

"Oh, my!" your mother exclaimed, placing a hand against her flushed cheek, "Gorgeous! Just gorgeous!"

Oh, god, why?

What an attention whore. Satoru knew he was good-looking, and he could absolutely back it up. If you thought about it, well… yeah, Satoru was fine as hell! Wait, that was beside the point! He was completely milking everyone there. Through all the cries, you all turned your heads at the sound of your father scoffing loudly and slamming a hand on the dinner table.

"Ain't no way my kid's marrying some sissy pretty boy!"

"Dad!"

You shrieked, face on fire from absolute embarrassment. Your sisters followed suit. He was the one bringing up marriage first? In a panic, you turned toward Satoru - babbling out apology after apology as you gripped his arm protectively. Oh, gosh you were not prepared for this rudeness, and you had not anticipated that your family might mouth off to Satoru. Dear old Dad was kind of rough around the edges, but no one could have predicted this. Satoru just blinked and calmly cocked his head to the side, seeming unphased.

As ironic as it sounded, thank goodness Satoru Gojo had an ego.

"Sir, I can assure you - "

"Alright, pretty boy. Get over here."

You all blinked as your dad firmly slapped his napkin on the table and rose from his seat. He walked over to the living room and pushed the coffee table out of the way.

"Let's have a little wrestle! Come on, let's see what you got!"

No.

No no no no no.

Except for Satoru who was amused, you all looked upon your father in dismay. Your mother ran into the room when she heard this crazy idea, and your sisters jumped up from their seats to urge everybody to sit down. This was the epitome of the embarrassing dad trope, but to actually ask Satoru Gojo to a spar on Christmas Eve? No, this had to be stopped!

"Bet he's never been in a real scuffle! Look at the car he rolled up in. I bet he's had everything handed to him his entire life!"

It surely went without saying that Satoru had definitely been in some fights and had definitely been through some things, but now was not the time to get into those details. It appeared the situation was only getting worse.

"This is ridiculous! We want Gojo-san to come back next year! Not scare him away!"

"Oh no, Dad, please stop this!"

"Not now, honey! Daddy's about to get to work!"

He took a fighting stance. It was insanely ridiculous. This could not get any worse, but you were wrong. So so so very wrong. Satoru chuckled as he fluidly rose from his chair, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Satoru, I - I'm so sorry! Please don't do this!"

A reassuring pat on your head silenced you.

"Now, now. It's fine. Daddy's about to get to work… and your old man is joining too."

Satoru winked. For a split second, you froze under his heated touch when his hand slid down your cheek and tucked underneath your chin, giving your head a gentle shake before he pulled away. A few seconds passed to register what Satoru had just said. Your face erupted into what felt like fire at the notion that Satoru just called himself daddy. At least he whispered it so only you could hear.

"Don't hold back on me just because I'm no spring chicken, pretty boy!"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." Satoru chided, giving a crack of his knuckles.

He paused.

"But I do need my good luck kiss from my sweetheart first."

Instantly, your eyes widened in shock, and your face went aflush with heat. "No, I don't think that's necessary… sweetheart!"

With crossed arms, you emphasized the cute petname as a warning. Poor you. That would never actually be enough to stop Satoru.

"You don't have to be shy, my love!" he stepped over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You were beyond frazzled. Now he was saying my love? Oh, he was really too much. His arms only tightened when you squirmed, and he pulled you closer. His lips puckered, and your eyes darted from them to his closed eyes to your family members staring at you weirdly for reluctantly not kissing him back. This display went on for a bit longer until you uttered under your breath.

"I said on the cheek!"

"Come on, they're watching. It's just a little peck!"

His arms gave a light squeeze.

"I could end this here and now and go home."

Right. Satoru really had no obligation to keep doing this favor, but did it have to be on his terms? Since the moment you stepped foot at the door, it was obvious he was going to torment you and behave in the most outlandish of ways. When you sharply took in a breath, you knew you had lost. He smirked. Nervously, your arms trembled as you struggled to lift your hands to his face. Quickly, you grabbed his cheeks and just pressed your mouth to his for not even a milisecond and pulled away. Satoru's arms let go of you, his eyelids drooping in a lusty manner. He smirked at the cute pout you gave him, eyebrows pulled together and everything. It was so embarrassing.

"Aw, thank you, my little good luck charm!"

Never had you wanted to run away from a family gathering so badly before. Your mom shook her head and giggled like a schoolgirl. Your sisters seethed with jealousy. Dad just squinted his eyes and grumbled in disgust.

"Oh, no you don't, pretty boy! Not in my house! Not without mistletoe!"

"Bring it on, old man."

The victor was long decided before the fight even started. You and your family watched in utter horror at Satoru and your father. You all jolted, clutching each other for support, covering your eyes, gasping, cringing, making faces as a few thwacks filled the air followed by your father's grunts and what sounded like bones cracking. Maybe Dad's spine perhaps? And before you knew it, Satoru had thrown him over his shoulder, and now Dad was on the floor.

And… Satoru was sitting on top of him.

Dad never stood a chance.

Satoru grinned, "I should have mentioned before that I'm an expert at martial arts!"

No no no no no, this could not be happening. You clapped your hands over your mouth. Dinner was over. Christmas Eve was over. Time to go home. You were prepared to high tail it out of there.

"O - Okay! I give!" your father screeched, "I'm sorry for calling you sissy! I misjudged you!"

Satoru got off him and extended out a hand to help your father up. At least he took those stupid insults with utmost grace. Mom ran forward with an ice pack in preparation as Dad cracked his back to loosen up once more. Instead of being livid… he just gripped Satoru's hand firmly in a handshake.

"Martial arts, huh? Very impressive, son!"

Oh, it was son now?

It was unbelievable that any of this was happening! Blinking off your initial shock, you ran right up to Satoru and curled your arms around his. With the fakest of smiles, you nuzzled your head into your boyfriend's arm.

"Oh, what a good fight! You're so strong, sweetheart! Now come sit down… and don't do anything!"

"Dinner's ready!"

Your father groaned as he sat in his chair, "G - great…"

Dinner went pretty normal. Satoru toned it down a notch for the time being. He laughed and placed his hand on your thigh when talking. He talked about his fancy car that all of a sudden your dad loved. They talked about Satoru's natural talent for martial arts again. He passed the potatoes when asked. He refused a glass of wine. There was some light conversation between the delicious food, and Satoru cracked a couple jokes here and there. Of course your tipsy parents laughed at everything he said and pried into your romantic life a bit more. They asked everything you could imagine, including why they hadn't heard you were dating Satoru Gojo sooner - however, Satoru was quick to explain it was all meant to be a fun surprise. At least he helped out there. It seemed he was bonefied boyfriend material.

But then, things started to go awry again.

When it was time to get up and move to the other room for opening gifts, Satoru promptly grabbed your hand and cleared his throat. As you stopped in place, you looked at him in a puzzled manner. He smirked at you, before placing a hand over his heart and sighing dramatically.

"Everyone, I have an announcement to make!"

"I knew it! My baby is pregnant!"

"NO, MOM!"

Through it all, you whipped your head to angrily meet Satoru's gaze. He held onto your hand tightly. With pleading eyes, you just silently begged him to get on with whatever this was. Because, to be honest, you were so sick of all these surprises from your fake boyfriend. Slowly, he got down on one knee. You felt your eyes widen as your jaw slowly dropped open.

You specifically said no proposal!

"I know we haven't been together for very long, but everything just feels… so right with you. Sweetheart, I love you."

SATORU, WHYYYYYY?

He pulled out a small navy velvet box. He opened it up to reveal the family ring inside he told you about only hours earlier. Now that you had gotten a better look, it was very pretty. It matched Satoru's eyes. In fact, it was a perfect copy of all the shine, all the sparkles, and all the clarity reflected in his own six eyes.

"Will you marry me?"

Although it was a fake proposal, you couldn't help the fact that your face heated up. For a moment, you clutched your free hand to your chest and your eyebrows pulled together. Your head tilted to the side as you gave him a dreamy look and such an adoring smile. When Satoru gave you a wink and whispered nice under his breath - you snapped out of it. Oh, yes! Remember this was all fake! With a slight gasp, you turned to see your family with wide smiles painted across their faces.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. For some reason, your throat was tightening as your breath quickened. Your eyebrows twitched in nervousness, and you blinked when tears started pooling at the corners of your eyes. Satoru blinked, nearly losing his happy expression upon seeing yours waver. Seeing your family like that… so happy, and all for nothing. This charade had gone on for too long now.

"No!"

Satoru's smile faded. And although all fake, you couldn't help but feel your heart rip in two at that hurt face Satoru gave. The way your heart dropped deep into the pit of your stomach upon meeting his azure eyes. You had put him through enough too. The feeling of being so sick welled deep inside your stomach.

Your family was just stunned to silence. Immediately, you turned to them.

"I'm sorry! This is all fake! Satoru and I aren't really dating! I just asked him to pretend being my boyfriend because I couldn't take another minute of you all pressuring me to find someone!"

With a deep breath and a sniffle, you looked down at the man on one knee.

"And I'm so sorry for asking you to do this! I've made fools out of us!"

With that, you ran off crying. Everyone stood in silence. The only noise made was the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut. A few more moments passed, and your mother gripped at your father's arm. There were slight tears in her eyes as well.

"Oh, I didn't mean to… we just want our baby to be happy, and… oh no, I've been terrible."

Your father rested his hand atop your mother's, "Dammit, we screwed up. I'll go talk to - "

"I'll go."

Satoru got up off his knee as he closed the box, returning it to his pocket.

"Oh, honey - "

Your mother began, but Satoru closed his eyes and gave a light smile,

"It's okay. I want to. We talk about everything."

With a blink, your father motioned his arm down the hall to point out the bathroom where you were currently sobbing in. Satoru glided down the hall smoothly, and his knuckles tapped at the door.

"Open up."

"No!" you managed to croak out between hiccups.

There was a brief pause.

"I will break down this door if I have to."

No response except for a sniff.

"I'm gonna do it!"

When you heard the doorknob jiggle, you gasped and immediately flung the door open. Satoru could most definitely break down the door, and easily too. So to save yourself more trouble for the evening, you opened it. Immediately, Satoru pushed you back inside and slammed the door behind him, locking it. You both just stared at each other for a while, until between all the sniffs, Satoru wiped a tear from your eye with his finger.

"Hey." he greeted softly with a small smile.

"Satoru, why don't you just go home?"

"I don't want to."

If you weren't so upset, you would have asked why. There was no energy for that as you were still drying the last of your tears and composing yourself. In attempts to ease the situation at hand, Satoru smiled and spoke his next words so casually. As if nothing had just happened.

"I gotta ask you a very important question."

"Right now? I don't think this is a good time."

He smiled again, seeming to ignore you.

"Will you go out with me?"

A beat.

"Oh, that's real funny, you jerk!"

"I'm serious."

He grabbed your hands in his own, looking at you with a calm and collected face. His blue eyes were slightly lidded again. Even in the crappy lighting of your parents' bathroom, they still shined. They still looked good. And Satoru looked damn good too.

"You said you'd do anything in return, and I want a date."

"Are… are you for real right now?"

"I've been wanting to ask you for a while actually."

You licked your lips at him. You titled your head to the side at the soft look in his eyes. He wasn't laughing, nor was he smiling, and he still held your hands in his own. He continued.

"So let's go on one date. And then you can decide from there if I'm being real or not."

Remember, he touched your butt. He got a kiss. Plus, he proposed to you. All that and you weren't even together. All that, even when you told him not to. If all of that happened, and you weren't even dating yet, then what would the real deal be like?

Satoru was so insufferable.

Maybe… it was all a little fun. And maybe, it did feel natural. Throughout the night, maybe you did think about actually having a relationship with Satoru Gojo. He was everything you needed and more. He was always there, and he made you laugh. There were countless memories with him. On top of that, maybe he'd let you touch his butt once in a while too. He was kind of hot, after all. Just kind of. And the butt. So with a smile, you let out a giggle.

"Yes, I'll go out with you."

A grin broke out on his face as he pulled you in for a hug. You buried your face in his chest and smiled when you reached your arms around to clutch the fabric of his shirt at his back. With a deep breath, you never realized how truly nice it was to hold him. Promptly, Satoru pulled back for a minute.

"Oh, by the way I am totally not kissing you in your parents' bathroom. Not hot at all."

He grinned again, and you broke out into laughter. You threw your head back as tears collected in your eyes from how hard you were laughing this time. Once you were able to calm down, Satoru shuffled and stuck his hands in his pocket again to pull out the sapphire ring from earlier.

"Oh yeah, will you at least keep this dumb ring?"

"I could never! That's a family heirloom!"

"Aw, please? It's old and dusty. I don't even want it." he scoffed, basically shoving it into your hands. You took a moment to study his face. He wasn't even looking you in the eye, and a pink hue was at his cheeks. A smirk appeared on your lips.

"You might need it someday."

With a wink, you placed it back in Satoru's hand, slowly closing his fingers around it. You didn't think it were possible, but Satoru's cheeks went even darker and redder in color. Unlike him, you actually knew when to stop tormenting the person you had a crush on. So you quickly changed the subject.

"So when do you want to go on a date?"

"You free tomorrow?"

"I'm all yours."

"All mine?" he purred, "I like the sound of that."

[sanemisstalker]

Homie I don't know if you've considered writing a part 2 for the incel Gyutaro modern! Au scenario cause it legit rewired something in my brain ajskaj 🤒💕- he's like a weird bug that's fun to poke and watch em S Q U I R M ah, I love it.

Like I can see later on y/n has an indirect impact on him even though it's a casual thing- like, telling him his cum taste bitter af and it convinces him to eat better if it means he'll keep getting head (toss in more regular showers in there now that I think about it) . Would also wonder how his sis would react to them hanging out-? 🤔

If it's not in your plans that's alright- either way, it gave me the strength to write for him and I am thankful for the food 🛐

Guess what this post is!!!! I was saving this ask so I could post part 2 with it or whateverrrr. I'm so giggle that so many people are interacting with that post, I didn't expect it to get such good reception!!

Also also, I do plan to write about how this Gyutaro definitely still raised his sister and is a bang up brother in spite of these mentalities he has! I have another ask that wants me to elaborate, and I'm planning on just making a big headcanon thing for him!!

PART ONE <-

CW// FEM READER// AFAB// BREASTED / Dub-con/Non-con (Gyutaro does something sexual under the guise he'll get laid, undiscussed BDSM dynamic)/ Panic Attack/ Vomit (not in a sex way) / Piss (kinda in a sex way)/ Sexism/ Incel mentalities/ Toxic Masculinity / Forced Bisexuality / BDSM dynamics / I say 'skullfuck' at one point / Gyutaro is reffered to as a toilet.

-Incel!Gyutaro's eyes had never even grazed a real dance floor, but there he was, at the big name club you'd dropped the location of 30 minutes ago. He'd hopped on his bike and sped there in what could only be called desperation.

-There wasn't a wait like in the movies. Not a big long line, and they let him in in his baggy jeans and stupid fucking Nietzsche shirt. He hadn't even realized he'd brought his bike helmet in until he was tossing it between his shaking, filthy hands.

-There were so many people. All of them taking their sweet time to gawk at his height and face. This was why he didn't leave the dorm. That and the abhorrent, terminally 2011 music.

-The photo had pissed him off. Bad. He'd come with the intention of a rematch (in your honor or whatever, he's not cringe enough to say that, though) and he planned to leave with you clinging to him like you were supposed to be.

-and obviously you were because there you were, hanging off Tengen Uzui's naturally bulging muscles with those 3 other mindless sluts. Not giving a fuck in the world about him or that skanky photo you sent.

-You were hard to spot in your slut disguise.

-You looked like every other girl there, and that pissed him off even worse, in a way. He had deluded himself into thinking you were good. Into thinking you were different from other females because you knew the bands and the movies, and you agreed when he implied that genetically you were just dumber-

-'Gyutaro!' You'd screech out as you locked eyes with the man. In the dark of the club, with the neon purple strobing over him, he looked almost daunting. With his helmet on one hip, and phone dangling from his other hand, Gyutaro had something similar to a western charm.

-You'd pop off of Tengen, who would only lift his head up to register the man, and then turn back to his girlfriends.

-The whole reason for their fight had been rather trivial, Gyutaro assumed, but, despite his lax appearance, Tengen did everything in his power not to smash the man's own helmet back over his head.

-He feared, along with Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, for your safety as you barreled into the man.

-You'd run into them with a new found confidence that night. After leaving Gyutaro in his sorry state, bounding up to the three women was far less intimidating. Almost like you shared a comraderie with them-

-and you had! The three were incredibly nice and immediately ushered you to Tengen where you all began to get a long in a picturesque fashion.

-You looked good. Hanging onto his arm with the other women felt good- You just had to take a photo.

-Gyutaro was going to panic. Tengen Uzui didn't scare him anymore, but that immediate jump from Tengen's arms to his, he didn't know how to satisfy that expectation.

-Of course he was better than Tengen- but on a "purely physical" level, he knew he would never have the stamina or prowess to conquer the bodies of three women at once.

-Especially not when he couldn't even fathom conquering you.

-'Ah, is this who you were talking about?' Tengen asked. You laughed in response, nodding with verve. Your body was beginning to shift against him- fuck-

-'Mhm, Gyutaro's my best friend.' You slurred, and it occurred to Gyutaro then, that you might be slighty inebriated. God, Tengen had an awful effect on you.

-His heart thudded at the words 'best friend' Despite your light and teasing cadence, were you friendzoning him? Would you just fuck any friend you had? Not that you fucked him- but you totally fucked him-

-'Oh?' Tengen sang in that stupid fucking tone that made Gyutaro want to rip off that girly fucking headband he wore. 'Have you slept with him?'

-Makio slapped Tengen's shoulder.

-'No, no- Not yet.' Gyutaro was panicking, now. Yet? Yet? You were planning to fuck hi-

-'Be careful.' Tengen sang. And that should've been the end of his thought, but maybe the drink he had was doing more than he expected, because Tengen couldn't fight the grin nor the words that spilled from his mouth after-

-'Tell him to try and last longer this time.'

-Gyutaro saw red, and blue, and maybe it was because of the weed air or the sex musk permeating past the bar- Maybe it was the anger he had at you for sharing such a thing about him- maybe it was because He'd been holding his breathe and plotting Tengen's downfall, and now he was-

-Who was he kidding, Gyutaro was going to fucking barf. The stress was too much, and his stomach rolled in response. He'd never been exposed to such an environment, or such an embarassment, and all he knew to do was turn away and try to keep it down until he got to the bathroom.

-'That was so mean!' Suma cried out as Gyutaro trudged away, attempt at disguising his mood futile. 'You made him cry!'

-'He literally called you a slut to your face at the start of the semester. What the fuck do you mean, mean?' Makio barked.

-You were in one of the gross stalls, pulling his scraggly black hair away from the rancid bowl. You weren't sure how he ate so much and still stayed so twig thin. He'd been puking for at least ten minutes.

-'I didn't expect you to come here.' You lied, having very much intended for that outcome. 'You think Tengen Uzui remembers every drunken, horny story he gets from a woman?'

-He was mortified. The idea that Tengen specifically knew something so intimate about him made him hear colors. Red colors. He was hearing the club lighting and seething at the red blur of the motion sensor on the toilet-

-The tile felt like splinters.

-'W-Why did you tell him that?' Gyutaro gasped out between spills. The question lacked his usual grit. It sounded genuine and hurt.

-He nodded lamely and went to drop his face onto the porcelain, but your hand swooped down.

-Your palm against his marred face was soothing. Lifting his head up from the toilet bowl, you wiped his mouth off with toilet paper.

-His heart fluttered. What a girlish emotion he was feeling.

-'I'm sorry.' You whispered and only semi meant it. Some of the things he said about women in the past months could've definitely validated such treatment. Some of the comments were bordering on illegal, others on beyond morally questionable.

-'It's okay.' He slurred, moving away from your hand to try and stop that flutter. You were quick to find his scar again, and, with hesitance losing to need, he rubbed against your palm.

-Cat. The word shot through your head and then retreated. No, no. A mangy cat. A cat with mange. Rabies, maybe even.

-'I wasn't crying or any-' as he began to speak, you pulled a small bottle of mouth wash out from your bag.

-'Tip your head back.' Gyutaro cut off his sentence and did as you said. The burn of the wash was painful. As he went to spit it out, you pressed a finger to his lips.

-'You get a gift if you can keep it in for the full minute.'

-It hurt. Gyutaro can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth, but the burn in his gums said he should do it more. He managed, though, and you followed through by pulling a tooth brush from your bag.

-Gyutaro had seen this plot before, in a hentai, probably, but he'd always imagined himself probing some innocent sweet trad girl's mouth with a tooth brush. Not being probed.

-You scrubbed plague off his teeth with precise intensity. His gums bled, and he whined. His jaw would occasionally stutter, and he'd bite down with enough force that you feared for your toothbrush.

-Another pass at the mouth wash and Gyutaro stared up at you, puffy lipped and teary eyed. You hadn't necessarily been gentle, nor had you avoided his gag reflex, but you leaned down to Gyutaro.

-His natural huffiness now had a pleasant bubblegum scent.

-When you pulled the vibrator from your pussy, Gyutaro nearly puked again. He hadn't noticed it in your sneaky photo, so seeing you hike your leg up on the toilet seat and pluck it from your insides made him see stars.

-Had you had that in the entire time? Had you told the other girls? Had you told Tengen?

-You dropped the vibrator into his lap. Not in his pants, not intentionally near his dick- on his lap. Gyutaro had taken on an all too natural kneeling position, and you dropped the vibe between the small gap of his thighs.

-Dull buzzing bounced up his thighs, vibratons too far to feel- And then you were pressing your cunt against his face, and he was taking in the scent of your pubes-

-He had been told that eating a woman out was a sign of submission. Got told it'd be gross, and to only do it when the situation was dire. And a situation with a female should never become dire- Having someone's genitals forced in his face like this-

-Gyutaro loved the smell of your pussy. The taste. His hands took to your thighs immediately, one slipping back to find the meat of your ass and bury his fingers in it.

-It would surprise you, how right he looked snug between your thighs. How his eyes fluttered back when he forgot he wasn't really supposed to be into this kind of thing.

-You could remember all of the things he said about vaginas. It often left you contemplating whether or not he found women attractive to begin with, but with his tongue rolling so naturally against your clit, you couldn't question it.

-He was made for this, both of you figured. Your warmth against his palate was ball tightening. He immediately took to it. You'd never seen such enthusiasm and love shown to your cunt.

-'Fuckkkkkk-' He'd moan, but with his tongue flat against you it came out in drool. His spit spilled onto his jean clad thighs, uncaring about anything other than eating you out.

-With his back against the toilet, and your hands gripping his hair, if you saw it from the back, it'd look like you were skullfucking the man. The thought made Gyutaro's already raging hard on twitch-

-And that's exactly how Tengen saw it when he opened the stall.

-'Oh?' He said, and you felt Gyutaro's grip tighten around your thighs. Today was just humiliation after humiliation, wasn't it? He knew by the stupid sing-song tone of the voice exactly who'd invaded his time with you.

-Black pulsed the corners of his vision.

-'Ah, Tengen-' You tried to keep your voice steady- not willing to let yourself be intimidated by a man his size in such a situation. Not infront of Gyutaro. He didn't need real life experience to back up forum rumors.

-'Can I use this toilet?' He nodded down to Gyutaro, and you looked down to the man between your thighs, a bit shocked by the ask.

- Gyutaro would pull off your cunt fast, wide eyed and all teeth.

-'What the fuck did you just s-' You lodged your fingers down his throat, Gyutaro gagging hurtfully against them. His eyes rolled back. He didn't know why having his mouth fucked with felt so good. It'd never felt this good when he was alone-

-'When I cum, yeah.' And Gyutaro was back on your pussy, a sudden fear lighting his movements. You wouldn't really let Tengen do that to him, right?

-Why was he depending on you, a woman, to prevent that? He should just get up and kick his ass- Tengen would have an advan...advantage.... an-

-Fuck your pussy was mind numbing. Fuck whatever Tengen wanted to do to him. He needed that juice.

-Gyutaro chased your orgasm. You were only slightly dissapointed he didn't cum with you- didn't show Tengen how good he could be. A part of you wanted to impress Tengen- to show off a little bit. Show what you tamed. Even if that taming was still very early in the works-

-When you came, Gyutaro smiled wide against your pussy. You pulled back with shaking legs and his head in your hands and he looked at you like Tengen wasn't pulling his cock from his boxers just centimeters away.

-'Just want your pussy, I need your pussy-' He slurred while you starred down at him.

-'If you drink it, I'll let you fuck me-' His ears would begin ringing. Shocked by his own actions, Gyutaro found his jaw unhinged, taking Tengen's flaccid cock down his throat.

-Maybe it was easier for him to accept because Gyutaro never dealt with penis envy. The two men were surprisingly matched. How unfortunate. You really wanted to see how Gyutaro would react to a cock that much bigger-

-Tengen took advantage of the willing hole, rocking his hips a bit much to Gyutaro's anger.

-'If you bite me, I'll drown you. Don't want to die with your head in a toilet, eh, Shabana?' Tengen taunted, sensing the upset from his thighs.

-You watched as Gyutaro's adam apple surged, and Tengen's head dropped back in relief. It was more than Gyutaro could take, obviously, because it began spilling from the corners of his mouth and onto his Neitzsche shirt.

-Gyutaro's face burnt red, and he reeked like piss. Tengen gave the other man's face a light, almost appreciative slap.

-As Tengen pulled out, a rush of piss came spilling onto the floor. He wasn't done though, a guiding hand locking around Gyutaro's jaw to tip his head up. The trickle was backed by the music blurring outside.

-His flow came to a stop, and he carefully shut Gyutaro's mouth. Gyutaro looked over at you with tired eyes.

-You nodded, and he swallowed.

-'Atta boy.'

-With Tengen's exit, you looked down at Gyutaro, dripping and still woefully hard. You pulled his messy hair back into a ponytail once more.

-'oh honey... when did I say you'd be fucking me tonight?'

-'Do I- Do I get to fuck you now?' He'd croak, trying to ignore the completely beer ridden piss on his lips. You looked at him so pathetically. It made his cock ache even worse than it already did.

-He could tell he wasn't going to get what he wanted before you even opened your mouth.

[reds-writings]

crashin' the party

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: a bit of a whopper that had me stumped for a bit. i sincerely hope you like it. i didn't plan to go this far with the jj universe but the more i do the more fun i have with these two! i'm going to rearrange my masterlist a bit and put these parts in a more chronological order! this part technically takes place before the events of if only tonight we could sleep. feedback is always cherished and my requests are open!

word count: roughly 6.7k

warnings: cursing, fighting (verbal and physical), two idiots being dumb, miscommunication trope, the boy's a liar, guns, mentions of drugs, rust self-sabotaging, marty being marty, ANGST, making up at the end, things can be a lil toxic, reader gets the shit end of the stick in most of this, etc

You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something rather egregious was brewing behind your back over the past several days. Starting with the unfortunate shitshow that was Marty’s young thing of a mistress letting Maggie in on his line of transgressions due to a fit of spite. The fallout was more than unsavory which had him plenty distracted with trying to hopelessly pick up the shattered pieces of his now blown-up marriage. 

Then, Rust decided to take a few week's leave in the middle of the case. Which came completely out of left field given his obsession with having this all solved more rapidly due to the ever-shortening time limit Quesada had set for you all. A dying father in Alaska or something along those lines. He hadn’t exactly informed you of it directly himself until you rang him up the night he was supposedly set to depart. 

“Heard you were takin’ leave.” You idly twisted the phone chord between your fingers as you sat atop your kitchen counter. One of your coworkers at the precinct had mentioned it off-handedly earlier in the day and you were more than curious as to why everyone else seemed to know of Rust’s so-called last-minute trip and not you. 

“Yeah.” Rust’s static voice sounded back to you, sounding stranger than what was his usual. More dazed and gruff.

“In the middle of this case?”

“Mhm…”

“...Mind sharin’ why?” He was being more elusive than usual and it was starting to grate your nerves further by the minute.  

“Visitin’ my father. Anchorage. He’s dyin’.” 

Oh. 

“I’m uh...I'm sorry to hear that…when are you headin’ out? Need me to drive you to the airport or somethin’?-”

“Marty’s takin’ me. Tonight.” 

That made you even more surprised. It wasn’t like the two were necessarily all that chummy. You tried not to let it sting that there seemed to be a purposeful choice in having Marty take him instead of you. The dynamic between you two wasn’t at its most idyllic but you hadn’t thought it to be too strained despite recent events. Things with the investigation were just piling up, getting trickier and more stressful to manage as time ticked on. 

Sure, you guys hadn’t exactly been able to elaborate further on what was the bomb of feelings he had all but dropped on you but you hadn’t been taking it personally. At least not until now. Maybe he was starting to regret things. This was probably him pulling away so you’d get the hint to not be so keen on him moving forward. Were you coming off as desperate?  Suffocating?

Realizing you’d yet to say anything you cleared your throat a bit, “Thought Marty would’ve been too busy dealin' with winning back Maggie and everything...” The couple already managed to give you more than a migraine or two since things went to shit. On top of Marty’s deep-seated 'woe is me' bullshit, Maggie had managed to stop by demanding answers in a hysterical flurry to things you had no knowledge of or frankly any business in. 

“I won’t be back for a bit.” It was becoming apparent that he wanted to finish up this conversation sooner rather than later. 

“Okay…I guess I’ll keep lookin’ for leads and whatnot. There might be a girl I know from way back who’s tied up in the kind of crowd we’re lookin’ at. I’m hopin’ she might be familiar with Ledoux or somethin’. If there’s anything you want me diggin’ into just give me a shout I guess.”

He was silent for a moment you considered too prolonged.

“I gotta head out. Keep track of what you find. Marty’ll be watchin’ my place.” 

“You got it.” 

More silence.

“Bye, Y/n.” 

“Bye-” The line went dead before you knew it. 

Geez. 

The dial tone mocked you as you sat there in curling embarrassment. You don’t think he’d ever blown you off so bluntly before. Not even when you two first met. Your neck and face started to grow warm as you fought off the increasing sense of rejection brought on by your own insecurities and his sudden callousness. You were just overthinking things. Rust’s father was dying and it wasn’t like you could expect him to properly express what it was he was going through. You just had to be somewhat okay with standing by on the sidelines until he was ready to open up on the matter. 

You hadn’t heard much about Rust’s parents or his upbringing but from what little tidbits he managed to drop it wasn’t anything to be envious of. Things seemed complicated from the sounds of it so you had no doubt Rust was probably just having a tougher time trying to navigate what he felt in anticipation of the grief that awaited him ahead.

Meanwhile, after hanging up on you, Rust couldn’t help but bring a heavy hand to his eyes as he sighed through his nose. Marty eyed him warily as he sat across from him in the depressing confines of his partner’s apartment. 

“So you lied to her.” 

Rust didn’t bother meeting the blonde’s disappointed look. 

“You don’t think that oughta blow up in your face? She’s sharper than you may realize…ain’t some fragile thing who can’t handle her shit-”

“Don't need her on this, Marty.” Rust tried remaining passive at the mention of you. 

Things were becoming too complicated. A consequence of his pathetic failure to keep his baneful desires in check. Giving in to those false hopes had him feeling increasingly weak and cheap the longer he had time to sit and torture himself over it. To entertain such notions with you was cruel to an extent he found himself severely uncomfortable with. It wouldn’t work. Not in this lifetime or perhaps any other that would exist in the infinite hell that was the universe. If he backed away now perhaps he could still hold onto whatever little semblance of control he had left. 

“Don’t need her on this or don’t want her on this? There’s a mighty big difference, buddy.” Marty didn’t necessarily know about the recent developments between you two but it was apparent he was becoming aware that something was afoot. The pair stared at each other long and hard.

“This is a two-man job. No need for added weight.” Rust broke first, taking a long drag from the cigarette pinched between his nimble fingers.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself. This is her case too and I don’t appreciate you havin’ me be part of some lie-”

“I can remind you that you haven’t had much of a problem with lyin’ as of late-” 

“Oi, don’t get all judgy with me just cause you’re scared of somethin’ you ain’t got the emotional bandwidth to fuckin’ handle on your own. Y/n’s a smart girl. Strong. It would be unwise of you to underestimate her abilities because of some holdup you’ve got-”

“Marty.” Was Rust’s final warning. The steeliness of it had the blonde’s hands going up in mock surrender. If Rust didn’t want to unpack his growingly obvious partialness towards you then he wouldn’t bother pressing. It’s not like he was much in the mood to help out the pissy curmudgeon he called a partner with any hypothetical advances toward you. Marty saw you as something similar to that of a little sister. He wasn’t sold on the idea of romance, if Rust were even capable of the notion, happening between you two. In his opinion, your heart was just too big for the likes of Rust. He didn’t want to see you put in the monumental effort of caring for the hopeless loner only to be sorely disappointed in return. 

The days following the odd phone call had that intuitive feeling in your gut growing all the more sour. You tried your best to find more on Ledoux but the bastard was practically a ghost. Any and all traces left behind were either long gone by now or slipping from you faster than you could blink. Marty wasn’t being much help either, hardly showing up at work or being in a perpetual state of buzzed when he did actually bother to grace everyone with his presence. 

Though, anytime you did really manage to catch him he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye for longer than what he deemed necessary. Either the obvious bout of drinking he was throwing himself into was reaching a dangerously depressive territory or he was feeling guilty about something else entirely. He never was the best at bluffing when it came to things outside of the job. It was even more rare to find yourself in a situation where he had something to lie about to you in the first place. 

Something was definitely up. 

“Maggie talk to you yet?” You asked, setting down a styrofoam box of takeout in front of him as he sat miserably hungover at his desk. He took a peek inside and mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ before deciding to dig in.

“No…she ain’t answerin’ any of my calls. Her pops told me to fuck off plenty already so he ain’t an option of gettin’ through to her neither.”

“It’s a pretty big deal, Marty. It’s best to probably just…give her time to feel angry. Your constant pokin’ at her is only gonna drive her away further. Goin’ to the hospital huffin’ and puffin' like you did didn’t help your case either.” You sipped your coffee as you watched him rub at his eyes.

“I just needed her to hear me out. Hell, I even got Rust to go-” His stocky shoulders locked up suddenly, seeming to have caught himself in revealing too much before settling on shoveling more food into his mouth. 

Your eyes tightened in suspicion.

“Speakin’ of, you heard anything from Rust while he’s been away?” 

Marty shook his head a little too fast to be considered convincing, “Not a peep,” Obvious lie, “can’t imagine the intense bouts of angst he’s brewing up for himself all the way where he's holed up.” 

“Mhm. How’re you holdin’ up at his place? Need me to bring by anything? I know it ain’t necessarily the Hilton-”

“N-no! I’m good. No. I uh-...I got some groceries the other day. It’s a mystery how that guy survives with what little he keeps in his damn fridge. Just ridiculous.” He coughed and took a sip of his own coffee, avoiding your growingly pointed glare. He could feel sweat start to form on his brow and he knew he needed to head out before he fucked everything up even more. Having Maggie angry at him was already enough to deal with. 

“I bet. Listen-”

“L-Look I gotta get goin’. Regrettably, I drank too much last night and it’s honest to God catchin’ up to me right about now and I don’t need Quesada givin’ me shit. Sorry to bail on ya but I’ll see you later, a-alright? Thanks for the food.” Marty scrambled to get his stuff before semi-hurrying to scamper off. He could feel your eyes burning at the back of his head but he didn’t dare to look back. 

Unfurling your arms you sat your mug down and reached for the receiver on your desk. It was a last-ditch effort, dialing Maggie, to see if Marty’s slip of the tongue about Rust meant anything substantial. If they were chatting here and there while Rust was away that was fine. If Marty was having Rust get through to Maggie all the way from where he was that was fine too. If Rust wasn’t in Alaska at all then you’re sure that ugly sensation building within you would multiply tenfold easily. After a few rings the line clicked with an answer.

“Hello?” Maggie’s soft lilt came from the other line. She sounded a little less upset than when you last saw her but still tired nonetheless.

“Hey, Mags. It’s Y/n. Just wanted to see what you were up to. How’re you holdin’ up?” You tried to maintain an air of complete casualness. No ulterior motives to this call whatsoever. 

“Oh, hey! I uhm…I’m doing okay I guess. Trying not to let everything catch up to me all at once, y’know. It’s been hard…keeping what I can away from the girls. Marty just won’t quit it with trying to wear me down. It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah…I told him to leave you be but he never was much of an avid listener. We may work together but just know I ain’t takin’ his side on all this.” You offered up and it was true. Marty may have been your coworker for several years now and something close to a decent friend but this wasn’t something you were gonna coddle him about. The consequences of his petty adultery were ones he had to deal with entirely on his own. 

“Thank you. You should try telling Rust that. Marty’s resorted to having him try to talk me down too, if you can believe it. Not that it worked or anything but I’m getting tired of feeling like I’m the one who should feel guilty for walking away when Marty decided to fuck it all up in the first place.” The woman’s tone grew a touch more frantic as her rant went more into detail but you stopped listening at the mention of Rust. 

Y’know, the one who was supposed to be thousands of miles away right now. 

“He got Rust to talk to you?” You interjected, only feeling a tiny pang of guilt for cutting in.

“Y-yeah. It uh…well it didn’t go to well. Y’know him. He didn’t try to blow smoke up Marty’s ass too much but he brought up the kids which more or less set me off. I said some harsh things but he just wouldn’t quit it with the whole ‘men and women don’t work' thing and 'our only purpose is reproduction’ or whatever bullshit spiel he had on his list of many-”

“When did this happen?” 

“Earlier today. We met at some diner but it didn’t last long with him walking out. I do feel bad for getting ahead of myself but…I don’t know. If you see him could you tell him I’m sorry? I don’t want things being more uncomfortable than they already are between all of us…” 

Ice started to spread like some nasty disease in your veins. The way your heart was stuttering out of rhythm had you grasping at your chest. You held the receiver between your ear and shoulder as your mind went blank at her simple confession. You didn’t know if what was actively consuming you was pure rage or a deep sense of betrayal. He had lied. They both lied. Like it was nothing. 

Why?

Forcing yourself to sound unaffected you spoke up again, “Sure, I can do that for you. I’m sure he ain’t too hung up on whatever it is you said so I wouldn’t beat myself up over it. Sometimes he oughta be put in his place for what he lets slip out of his mouth.”

“You’re probably right. Thank you, Y/n.”

“No problem. I’ll check in with you later alright, Mags?” Your chest was starting to rise and fall at a rapid pace. You needed to get out of here. 

“Alright, Y/n. Thank you again. Take care.” Was her warm reply before you set down the phone almost robotically. 

They had really fucking lied.

It was well into the night by the time you found yourself parked outside of Rust’s apartment. The throbbing in your skull had grown exponentially since your chat with Maggie and the muscle in your chest had yet to cease its sickening pace. It felt as if you were experiencing everything from outside of your body. As if you had no control over your limbs when you clambered out of your car and nearly slammed the door off its hinges. 

They wouldn’t lie to you like this. This was just one big misunderstanding. It had to be! You’d rather be angry for nothing than have the impending doom of betrayal strike you in a way that you felt would be irreversible. 

They just wouldn’t do that to you.

Raising a shaking fist and pounding on the door, it sounded like you were there to raid the damn place like it was police business. You attempted to steady your breathing but as your impatience grew you found yourself pounding again when there wasn’t a fast enough answer. Marty and Rust’s respective vehicles were both here so there was no chance of no one being home. 

Before you unleashed hell on the door once more it swung open to reveal a frazzled Marty. He stood there frozen, jaw opening and closing, visibly at a loss seeing your figure standing in the doorway. He looked ready to just about shit himself. 

“Y/n! W-what-”

“Now, I know you know I ain’t stupid. So if you’ve got somethin’ you’re hidin’, which I know you are, you best 'fess up now-”

“I-I don’t know what-”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. I called Maggie. I know he's here.” You felt like some feral cat with its hackles rising by the minute. It was a rare occurrence to find yourself this upset.

“Y/n that ain’t-”

“If you have nothin’ you’re lyin’ about, if he's really not here then let me in.”

He opened his mouth only to be cut off, unsurprisingly, again. 

“Now, Martin.” 

The two of you stared at each other and Marty felt an unsettling sensation lick up his spine. There was no stopping you, especially not when you were like this. He must’ve hesitated for a hair too long because before he knew it you were slamming past the doorway, nearly knocking the wind out of him in the process.

The sight before you had you halting in the middle of your warpath. There stood Rust, still as a statue, looking like a full-blown tweakin’ asshole biker as if it were second nature to him. In the back of your mind, info from files about him being involved in undercover narcotics work for quite some time sparked recognition but you couldn’t seem to connect it with what was playing out right in front of you. All you knew was that something was obviously about to go down and they hadn’t even the slightest intention of making you aware. 

It felt like one devastating punch to the stomach. 

“What’s goin' on?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears. It felt like your head was being held underwater as you stared down the man opposing you. 

No one made a move to answer. 

“I said what the fuck is goin' on.” Your tone grew stronger and both men had the nerve to look sorry at your state of distress. 

“We have a line on Ledoux.” Rust ground out, having a hard time connecting with your gaze. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not tonight. Not ever. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need the distraction nor your wrath towards his pathetically selfish reasonings for not letting you in on any of this. 

“And it just slipped your mind to give me the heads up? In case you might’ve forgotten I happen to work on this case with the both of you dipshits too. If there’s a tip towards that meth-head fuck then I’d think it’d be common knowledge that I oughta know too.” You snapped, venom bitterly coiled its way through you as the rage taking up space in your body had you hardly seeing straight.

“You didn’t need to be involved. It’s undercover work to get a way in with Ledoux. I don’t need both you and Marty to worry about when I’m dealing with-” 

“Oh, fuck you! Fuck you both! That ain’t for you to decide. I can handle my shit just fine. You're tellin' me you two can throw yourselves into whatever shady bullshit it is your plannin' that could have you killed but I have to sit back like the clueless fuckin' idiot? Make that make fuckin' sense!” You were up in his face shouting now and it infuriated you that he was rearing back like some spooked horse to avoid your anger. 

Fucking coward. 

“Underestimatin’ me like this makes you just as bad as the rest of them in the department. If you think I lack the capability for any of this then you be a man and take that up with me. You don’t make that idiot over there lie for you.” You grabbed firmly at the worn leather of his stupid jacket and he just took it. His heart was hammering and he suddenly felt ill. This was all going wrong and his mind couldn’t keep up. Nothing wanted to pass the threshold of his lips. 

Seeing that he wasn’t going to reply you let go, feeling sudden shame wash over you at your burst of hysteria. Your eyes were starting to burn intensely as the weight of the current circumstances started to settle down on you, making you take a few steps back.

You felt like nothing. It wasn’t an experience you were necessarily new to but having it come from them had you more blindsided than ever imaginable. All you could keep asking yourself was: why? Marty’s never doubted you or gone behind your back. He was one of the only ones who believed in you when you first started out as some newbie of an investigator. You’ve known him for nearly a decade and looking at his pitiful expression now only had you feeling disgusted.

Rust you couldn’t even bother to pick apart any further. You had the impression he respected you enough on the job but that had been debunked in nothing short of just a few hours. Where did he get off? You weren’t some burden who’d just weigh the whole process down with your implied inferiority. None of this was making any sense and your heaving shoulders failed to stop their jittering as you took in the room surrounding you. An old red toolbox sat on the carpeted floor between two lawn chairs with a few guns, random documents, drug baggies, and whatnot scattered around. A black satellite phone on the dining table’s surface caught your eye and a sharp exhale left your nose. Your eyes drifted back to Rust. The bated silence that had blanketed the room was unbearable to the two men. 

“Whether you like it or not you’ve earned yourself an extra set of eyes. I’m sure Marty can catch me up on everything on the way to Tweakersville since y’all tell each other everything now durin' your lil’ sleepovers.” You snatched a pistol from the floor and tucked it into your waistband before stepping out. 

“Dyin’ father in Anchorage…what a crock of shit…” Were your departing mumbles as you disappeared out the door.  It took everything in Marty’s being to not let out the pettiest of ‘I told you so’s’. 

Rust only moved to bring trembling fingers to check his pulse. 

The resulting car ride between you and Marty was deathly quiet as you stared out the window. You could tell he wanted to speak up but finding the right words wasn’t coming easy to him. It wasn’t until you pulled up to the shithole that passed as a dive bar that he worked up the courage to blurt out his defense.

“I didn’t wanna lie to you.” You just scoffed and shook your head wryly.

“Yet here we are.”

“What we’re doin’ ain’t necessarily legal-”

“So? It’s ain't like I’m sheltered from the ways of a dirty cop. I’ve done my fair share of shit over the years.” The skin around your nails was becoming raw at your incessant biting and Marty ignored the urge to swat your hands away from yourself. 

“This wasn’t done out of thinkin’ you weren’t capable. You have to know that.” 

“You can say that but I’m still havin’ a hard time workin’ out any other reason why you’d try to fuck me over like this.” You fixed him with a hard stare and he could only sigh. God, were you stubborn when you wanted to be. He needed to save his own skin on this one, Rust be damned. 

“Hon, Rust’s throwin’ himself back into some old gang mess for the sake of this case. Now, from the looks of it, I’d say he ain’t too keen on having to do it at all in the first place. I’m sure you’re aware of what working narcotics can do to the mind of a man for the minimal time he’s set to do it out on the field. Let alone what it could do one working at it for four years nonstop. The man nearly died doin’ all this shit on more than one occasion. Shootins...cartel torture. Which brings me to my next point.” Your partner watched you intently as if to make sure you were fully listening. 

You made no signs of ignoring him so he continued,

“I don’t know what’s goin' on between him and you, if there even is somethin' going on, but it shouldn’t be hard for you to imagine that he’s strugglin' with it a whole lot. It’s obvious he don’t know how to come to terms with most of what he’s feeling so it’s hard to determine just what the hell he’d do when it comes to being interested in a woman. Let alone you.”

“I fail to see what you’re gettin’ at.” You knew exactly what he was implying but childish insolence held priority.

“Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here. Perhaps out of everyone he’s encountered ever. You challenge his way of structure. All the Debby Downer bullshit he tells himself starts to lack any sense. Not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation. He may not admit that and you may not bother to believe it but that’s just what I see. You know I wouldn’t vouch for him on shit like this out of charity.” 

The words sank in deep as you ruminated over them. It made sense but out of pure stubbornness, you didn’t really want to acknowledge it right then and there. When you had a clearer head you could probably find yourself empathizing with Rust’s decisions but you felt like you did enough of that already when it came to any other screw-up of his. This instance cut deep for another reason. Your trust had been breached to an awful extent and it just wouldn’t work if you had to fear it happening again. Romantically or professionally. It wasn’t up to him to make these choices for you. Especially when it came down to your line of work. You couldn’t tolerate that type of interference. 

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Is what you settled on before turning to people watch out of your rolled-down window. 

“I really am sorry, Y/n.” He spoke up again but you were too worn out to accept anything else at the moment. Even if you knew he was being sincere.

You ignored the nagging in the back of your mind that things would likely go terribly wrong sometime tonight. It annoyed you that being as mad as you were you still had half the mind to pray Rust didn’t end up getting killed doing whatever it was he was doing with that gang leader Ginger. You'd be devastated, fight or no fight. Marty had tried assuring you this was all meant to be quick and easy but you didn’t believe it one bit. 

Minutes passed before you and Marty made your way to split up inside the bar. Marty wanted to keep an eye on Rust and you just wanted to make sure Marty didn’t do something stupid. It was safe to say he stuck out like a sore thumb in his bright Pink Floyd shirt and trucker hat amongst the throngs of burly, tatted bikers prowling about. Your expression remained neutral as you felt the number of greedy eyes growing on you while you slinked around. The music was too loud and the thick haze of smoke stung your eyes. The smell in here was more or less repulsive, having you fight the urge to wrinkle your burning nose in disgust. Rust didn’t seem to be anywhere around inside, meaning he was striking the ‘deal’ somewhere out back where the other hoards of folks were hanging around.

It didn’t take long for a commotion to rise up with the unfortunate cause of it being Marty. He was bumbling out apologies as some big oaf all but dragged him out of the bar with people hollering after him. You tried your best to briskly follow, making it out in time to see the man get thrown onto his ass. Miscalculating your gait you just about slammed into the scary man from behind at his sudden stop. 

Meaty hands yanked at your shirt and slammed your poor back into a post near the entrance. “Just what the fuck are you doin', bitch.” 

Trying not to gag at the state of his breath you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, “Was just tryin' to leave so you can get right up off me-”

The man shoved you again and took his huge mitt of a hand to your throat, “You and your punk ass friend don’t belong sniffin’ 'round here.”

“I don’t know that son of a bitch so fuckin' let go!-” A burst of stars entered your vision as his fist nearly sent you sailing down the old wooden ramp. A boot or two kicked at your curled-up figure, catching you in the ribs and stomach a few times. One even clocked you in the jaw and you hoped you’d still have teeth left if you were lucky enough to make it out. Heavy footsteps boomed against the growing crowd’s uproar and your adrenaline kicked itself up a few notches. The giant's paws cleared the way and jerked you up again, the force of it having your feet leave the ground for a split second. You were struck again, then once more before your hand fumbled behind your back and got a good grip on the pistol in your jeans. 

Cold metal jabbed into the grand protrusion that was his belly and it had him stilling almost immediately. 

“Unless you want a bullet or two in your fatass gut, I suggest you let me go.” You spat.

When you didn’t get an answer fast enough, the cocking of the gun’s hammer sure as hell had him dropping you fast. As soon as he did you smacked him across the face with the butt of it and sent him to his knees. A naive soul or two began to make a move but you were quicker in aiming the gun at them in warning. Blood from your nose leaked like a faucet into your gaping mouth as you struggled for air. They sure managed to get you good. The growing pain you felt all over attested to that fact. 

Once you were sure no one else would pounce, you spit on the big man and backed away with your gun in the air. You nudged Marty with your boot to make him get the hell up before you two booked it back to the car. According to him, Rust got roped into going down the Bayou with Ginger so you two had to make it out quick.

So much for quick and easy. 

You couldn’t even bother to check the time as you sat reclined in the car to wait for Rust’s signal. Marty parked at some mostly empty lot near a grocery mart and scurried inside to grab you a few things. The bag of frozen peas didn’t do much for your rapidly swelling eye or aching jaw. Your nose didn’t seem to be too broken but with all its nerves it made no difference in hurting like a bitch. The bleeding from both your nostrils and mouth had started to clot thankfully but you still sat wheezing from your abused ribs. 

“So much for being able to fuckin' handle yourself.” Marty huffed as he flipped through a tattered copy of Rust’s Nietzche. What was intended as a laugh came out as a wet rattle instead, making the blonde look at you in alarm.

“He let go of me, didn’t he? Not like you were much use.” Your tongue rolled around in the space of your mouth, forgoing the taste of copper in making sure none of your pearly whites were at risk of falling out. 

“How’re you gonna explain this at work?”

“I dunno. I’ll say I took a tumble down my staircase or somethin’. Who cares.” It was likely your lazy nonchalance was the result of a possible concussion. It was getting harder to keep yourself awake as you two were made to wait patiently. 

“Oh yeah. Casual tumble down the stairs. Makes perfect fuckin’ sense-” Marty’s bickering was cut off by the satellite phone’s sudden shrill ringing. You both shot up, adrenaline entering your systems once more, before he hurried to answer it. You could faintly hear a shouted line of demands before Marty confirmed what he heard and peeled off toward the location Rust had given him. You willed your hands to steady as you fumbled with the map you pulled from the glove compartment, making sure you weren’t going the wrong way.

The ninety seconds Rust gave was more like an eternity before you skirted up to the neighborhood that felt like an active warzone. As he was nearing the vehicle with a stumbling man in his clutches, who you assumed was Ginger, you leaped out of the car to open up the back and usher them in. You raised your pistol in a one-handed grip, keeping the other on the door as they stumbled inside. There was shouting from figures out following in the distance and gunfire that was making its way closer and closer. When they found themselves situated you slammed the car door shut and sent off a warning shot or two to keep the approaching group away. Responding bullets were your only answer, having you all but swing back into the passenger’s seat as they whizzed past you. Only one had managed to skim past your ear in sheer dumb luck, leaving your ear ringing something awful. 

With you safely inside, Marty sped off again at Rust’s sharp command. You couldn’t really hear their yelling over the pounding of your heart and the fact your right ear seemed to be temporarily out of commission from the narrowly missed bullet. 

You couldn’t dwell too much on the fact that with an inch difference it would’ve been your head. 

Hours later, daylight agitated your vision as you waited in the new setting that was Rust’s truck. After seeing the state you were in he all but hauled you with him to wherever he planned on taking Ginger, declaring he had some first aid kit he’d need to use on you. You didn’t bother putting up much of a fight when he ordered you to wait in the truck outside of the diner you stopped at after patching you up in the limited capacity he was able to. You were just too exhausted. You hadn’t even mustered the curiosity to get a good look at Ginger tied up in the back as you had driven. Probably safer that he didn’t get a good look at you anyway. 

Rust’s plan b with Dewall didn’t seem to pan out too well either as he came back to the truck with a deep-set scowl. Shoving Ginger back into place all bound up before climbing in up front. There was still hope that Marty would successfully trail the cook to wherever his hideout may be but Rust’s silence was conceringly heavy. Though, now wasn’t the time or the place to get into it with him all over again. You must’ve dozed off somewhere during the ride because when you opened your eyes, well eye…the other having swelled completely shut by now, you were pulled over on some trail. Rust just sat staring out at the scenery, more than likely lost in a swirl of his own thoughts, taking a moment to collect himself. Ginger's form was long gone from the back. 

At the sound of you rustling in your spot, he merely glanced your way before looking away again. There was a tick in his jaw that didn’t escape you and you sighed knowing you’d have to be the one to buck up first. 

“It looks worse than it feels.” Lie. Even the scratchy croak of your voice called you out on it.

“I didn’t want you here for a reason. What good is it if you wind up dead-"

“What you want isn’t always what you get. Next time don't take me for some fool-” 

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid-”

“And don’t you talk to me like you’ve lost your goddamn mind just cause of your pride,” You nearly thundered as you stared him down, “What happened, happened. It’s over. We pulled through with your wild-ass cowboy mission. Your panties can untwist now.”

A warm hand came to grip at your ribs, not violently, but firm enough to prove his point when the pain from your bruising nearly blinded you. Your own hand snapped up to grip at his arm as if playing a fucked up game of chicken. Who would break first? You’d be damned if it were you. Though the look in the man’s eyes had you faltering. You’d seen it before. That deep-rooted fear that bled out against his own will when it came to you more often than not. It seemed to hit him harder now that he was getting a good look at your battered and bloodied face in the afternoon light. Marty’s words from earlier felt mocking as they rang in your head. 

Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here...not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation.

The idea of anything with you made him scared. Scared for you and scared for himself.

“Why did you lie to me? Truly.” Your voice fell quiet, the fight in you left just as quickly as it had found you. 

He just blinked before letting his hand drop from you, however, yours stayed on him, “You’re a smart girl. You can work it out for yourself I’m sure.” He almost sounded sardonic.

“Maybe. But I’d like to hear it from you.” It might’ve been foolish to expect confessions of pure honesty from him but you’d keep giving him that option should he ever choose. 

When he said nothing you brushed a knuckle beneath his eye then across his sharp cheekbone. His tired eyes fought themselves from fluttering, trying not to let your touch utterly consume him whole. It proved to be even harder when your thumb swept feather-light over his chapped bottom lip before retreating completely.  

“Anything can happen, y'know. Anywhere, anytime. If you find yourself fearful of that fact pertainin’ to me then you need to let it go. If the idea of this,” You made a small gesture between you both, “is too much for you or you’ve realized you don’t want it anymore then that’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can handle just about anything. Your sanity and the sake of our professional partnership hold more priority over my whims. I don’t want my existence scarin' you to where it creates this big rift or you go to these dumb lengths to push me away.” 

Those long fingers of his fiddled with the ends of your hair, grounding himself with what little contact he was able to allow himself in the moment. He was still undecided on what he wanted to do with you. What he wanted to be with you. The paleness of his skin covered by the sheen layer of sweat from the comedown of whatever he likely took in the company of Ginger had him looking gaunt. Aged even. He found himself drifting between somewhere far away and being present here with you.

“This can’t happen again, Rust. Whether we’re something or not. Especially if we find ourselves workin’ together for however long down the road. It won’t work for me no matter the circumstance. Best believe I’ll be firm on that.” You flicked at this chin lightly, hoping some of the damage from the last twenty-four hours could be undone. 

“I’m-...I’m sorry.” Came the only remaining thing that could sound from his throat. And you’d take it for now. 

“I’ll get over it. Eventually. It might be a tall order but you need to get in the business of regulatin’ how you respond to your own emotions more.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” His final response was slightly choked but he didn’t give much else away after that. Sniffling, you leaned to the side on the truck's leather bench seat to rest your head on his shoulder once he twisted forward to face the wheel. An arm circled around your frame, his large hand finding purchase in your hair and you let yourself go for a moment as the truck began to roll forward. 

You continued down the path in a more comfortable silence where Marty would be waiting for you at the end to scout for Ledoux’s hideout. Soon this could all hopefully be over and done with. What would come after, though, you hadn’t the slightest clue.

a/n: forgive me, babes. they'll be happier (until 02). thanks for reading! i'll probably go back and edit this a bunch of times bc i'm neurotic like that!

[bluekidchaos]

toxic!mark hoffman x reader

this is ass btw

Pairings: Mark Hoffman x reader (no pronouns i think but envisioned as fem)

Warnings: 18+, manipulation, panic attacks, trauma, reader was in a saw game but no actual details are there, age gap (not actually mentioned but i envisioned it so in my head and i think it adds another spicy layer to the toxicness hihi), i guess kinda dub-con bc she’s only attracted to him bc trauma and manipulation so idk

Words: 1.5k

Can also be read on AO3!

Back to masterlist.

mark isn’t handling your case directly but he sees you at the station after you had won your game and he’s mesmerized as he sees you again

he approaches you and makes sure you are ok and don't need anything

when you’re at the hospital he visits you as much as possible, offering a shoulder to cry on and to listen when you talk about what happened (or anything really) 

he sneaks you non-hospital food and drinks and keeps you comfortable

when you get released he gives you his personal phone number and tells you to call or text whenever and he’ll respond as soon as you can

you’re a bit hesitant at first, i mean he’s already done so much for you and now he’s letting you bother him off the clock?

but he insists that it’s ok, the first text comes late that night, just a small thank you for everything

the next few calls and texts are few and far between but as he keeps reassuring you it's okay you feel comfortable calling him more, sometimes just to chat about random stuff

you’d consider him a friend at this point and you meet up a month later for coffee, you mention feeling paranoid in your apartment, it’s where you were taken after all and he tells you there's nothing to worry about but to call if anything happens

a night or so after the meet you call him in the middle of the night, he can tell you’ve been crying by your hoarse voice and the sniffles coming through the phone

“what’s wrong?” he fakes a tired voice. “i’m s-sorry, did i- did i wake you?” you almost sob out. “no, not at all, are you okay?” worry clear in his tone, “i can’t stay here, i keep seeing shadows move in every corner and i constantly feel like someones watching me.” you blurt it all out in one breath. 

mark tries his best not to let the smirk betray his voice, “alright, you’re alright. i..” he pauses “i might have a suggestion but please tell me if i'm crossing a boundary here.” he knows you won’t say no but he’s gotta keep up the act a bit longer

“please, anything, i don't know what to do anymore, i haven’t slept in days.” you sound so desperate for his help and he has to stop himself from groaning into the phone, “you can sleep at mine tonight, i’ll take the couch and then i’ll help you find a new place okay?” 

your heart misses a beat, and you wanna take the offer the second it leaves his lips but the thought of putting him on the couch in his own home stops you, “i can’t do that, i mean you shouldn’t have to do that”

“it’s fine, it won't be forever” he gives a little laugh that reassures you, “just until we find you a new place ok?”

you resing your hesitation, you’re too exhausted to argue “okay..thank you” mark smiles again, this time not caring as much if it's noticeable “alright, text me your address and i’ll come and pick you up right away, and pack a bag.” 

you hang up and text him the address and start packing as he said

mark already knows where you live of course but you don't need to know that, he waits in his car for the time it would have taken him to drive from his to you before stepping out of the car and going up to your door and pressing the buzzer, “i’ll be right down!” he hears you say through the door phone before it flashes green and he steps inside and waits for you

you come down the stairs fast, he can tell you haven’t slept in a while, the bags under your eyes the biggest indicator

he grabs the bag from you and escorts you to his car before driving the two of you to his place

it’s the first night you sleep through all the way, feeling safe as mark is just outside on the couch and you're surrounded by the smell of him and his things

the next morning you wake up by mark shuffling around in the room clearly trying to be quiet but he notices you stirring and goes still “shit, sorry i was trying not to wake you” you sit up and groggily rub your eyes, “what time is it?” he walks over to his dresser and grabs some sock out of it, you notice now he isn’t wearing a shirt, only some sleep short and you turn your gaze away, a bit flustered, “5.30 am, sorry i’m just getting ready for work. you should go back to sleep.” 

oh, work, right he has a life to live, now you feel extra stupid for taking his offer, depriving him of sleep when he has to get up and work, stupid. but it’s like he can tell what you’re thinking, “hey, you go back to sleep and stay here today alright? you can use my computer to look at apartments if you want.” you nod and lay down again, and you fall asleep before he’s out the door.

that evening when he walked through the door he was met with the most delicious smell as you greeted him from the kitchen, “i thought i’d at least make myself useful while im here so i made dinner” he walked over to the stove and to a deep breath, he probably hadn’t smelt anything this good in years. “wow, it smells really amazing, thank you, darling.”

the name made your stomach flutter, and you blushed at his praise, “oh it’s nothing"

the next 2 months consisted of you and mark living together, you cooked and cleaned while he was at work, making sure he always came home to a warm meal, he would go with you to look at apartments and give his advice and opinion when asked. you really appreciated it, he always knew when an area was unsafe or not and you seemed to be quite unlucky in your search as all the places you found were either in unsafe areas or unsafe apartments, you didn’t really understand that but you trusted marks opinion on your safety and if he didn’t deem it safe for you you didn’t take it. 

you and mark had also gotten closer during this time, he’d care for you through your nightmares and panic attacks, and he’d hold you while you cried yourself to sleep and stay all night in bed with you. you were so lucky to have mark, he really cared for you, he'd seen you at your worst but still cared. he’d kissed you one night while comforting you, it caught you off guard a bit but you craved his affection and touch. it was the first time you had sex. 

you tried your best to go out and be a part of society but it always felt like someone lurked in the shadows, ready to get you at any moment. sometimes you called mark in a panic bc it felt like someone was following you, 

he gladly came to get you every time, lamenting on about how you had to be careful and there were dangerous people out there, he would always bring up some case he was working on as examples, eventually you stopped trying to go out on your own

you had realised one night while looking at places together that you didn’t want to live without mark, couldn’t live without him, the thought alone made your chest squeeze and your breath heavy. he could tell you were having another panic attack and pulled you into his arms immediately soothing you, “hey, hey what’s wrong?” he pushed some hair behind your ear to get a better look at you.

your glazed and teary eyes find his and the look you give him makes him have to bite back a moan, he always loved seeing you like this, panicked, desperate for his comfort, only he could calm you down, “i can’t live without you, i don’t feel safe if you're not around, how am i supposed to be on my own, i need you there!” you practically wail at him in your hysteria, clinging to him like your life depended on it and to you it felt that way

mark only held you closer and ran his hands soothingly up and down your back, “shh, shh, it’ll be alright. you don’t have to move out if you don’t want to, i don’t mind having you here. i’d feel better with you near me too.”

“really?” you barely get the word out between sobs, “yeah, i mean we’re together anyways so moving together officially maybe isn’t that dumb. and it’s a dangerous world out there, how am i supposed to protect you if i'm not with you?”

you nodded in a haze, “thank you, thank you, i’m safe with you” you cried as you buried your face in his chest again and he continued stroking your back

you couldn’t see the smile on his face as he finally had you exactly where he wanted you

paranoid and afraid of the world around you, only trusting of him, your love

[book--wyrm]

Pengu Finale Liveblog ahhhhhh

Julian just absolutely brain blasting this old woman

Oh Rex is close enough to call her doll and make her breakfast he is not beating the deadbeat daddy allegation

OH NO DOES SHE KNOW OH MY GOD SHE KNOWS

NEVERMIND I WAS SO WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING SHE HAS KNOWN ALL ALONG

holy shit holy shit holy shit

okay so they did find the bodies eventually holy fuck hooooooly fuck

oh my god rex literally teaching francis how to manipulate oz and use him oh my god ohhhhh my god this is so much more of a betrayal than if francis had just hated him for what he'd done

she knew all along she knew all along and she used him and she

she

oz was right ahahahahah every relationship in his life is fuckign transactional because he KILLED THE ONLY TWO BOYS WHO TRULY LOVED HIM, AND KILLED HIS MOTHER'S LOVE WITH THEM

dude he has to kill his mother now

this is a psychological nuke the likes of which i think sofia could not possibly have ever imagined.

Francis's FACE oh my god.

Julian baby boy maybe Sofia should stand out of sight to not break immersion

God this is absolutely not how hypnotism works is it

IT'LL BE EASIER NOW YOU LITTLE PSYCHO

"I see you in ways other people don't" while she is ACTIVELY USING HIM

dude. dude. I just. It's always the same with Oz, isn't it. Sofia, Eve, his mom. He's the biggest bullshitter in Gotham, and he's so full of it he doesn't have a clue how to sniff it out

God they are both so horrific to each other. Just his horrible cycle of selfishness and toxicity what a twisted family they are

HELLO VIC I MISSED YOU

Oh rip lmao I guess the gangs know the bliss is all gone

Vic baby he's saying all the same stuff oz does, only he believes it, so he can't bullshit people to his side

Oh hey that dude on the other side of the walkie talkie lived!!

Man Oz and Sofia haven't been face to face since ep 4 hahahaha

BERTO MENTION. she hasn't used that name in a hot second

Oh my god Sofia literally using that bird nest metaphor ahahahh whoever that anon was in my inbox you are a genius

Man. Sofia literally just laying out all their horrible family drama in the worlds worst family therapy oh my god

Dude I've been saying for weeks now that Sofia's superpower is to completely shatter people with the truth and. ohhhhhh my god ohhhhhh my god ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Wait. Is Sofia going to give that cigar cutter in her cleavage to Francis to use on Oz. I think she should give it to her.

Uh. Nevermind

Wow Sofia really is leaning into this evil therapy thing what the fuck. girl.

God i desperately want her to be the girl-jonkler running the aslume at the end of this show please please please

Also Sofia, I think it was the left. I mean I'm sure she knows just so she can do the other one next, but. man. she is fuckin sadistic. im love....

Julian so enthusiastic about all of this hahaahah

I love Sofia like, almost framing this to them or possibly herself as a gift she is giving to Francis. Is this cope? Is this something she sincerely believes? Or is she just being cruel?

I ALREADY FUCKIN KNOW

It's my finger you spineless prick hahahaahha but that doesn't matter to him because its your love he wants it's your adoration your pride and what actually happens to you? Doesn't fucking matter.

I NEVER STOPPED HATING YOU

Sofia's face right then like. damn dude. god i love her

She had enough love for all of them and he soured every last drop of it. For them, for him, for the world.

Sofia really does know the value of just letting a drama play out.

Francis saying Sofia is right this ep, Sofia saying Francis was right last ep, damn.

Oz really is... the only character in this show chronically incapable of learning

Damn mama cobb strong enough to smash a bottle. I don't think even i could do that.

Oh my god no wonder she said "they look at me like i'm not even theirs" because in her mind, she let their murderer go free

also is oz gonna hulk out that she's showing love to an imaginary jack and benny when oz has just seen her hate?

Oh is she just dying right now

Julian doing the get down mr president

MR DETECTIVE YOU DIPSHIT

Sofia baby you did great okay you already hurt Oz please just go to italy with your boy toy

Wow is he not getting this fucking stab looked at

EW EW EW EW

Yeah sure sure. Sofia stabbed you. Sure. Sure.

Oh noooo. Vic... baby.... he is such a believer in Oz's stupid self serving bullshit. He is so good. And pure. And he speaks from the heart and. And Oz acts like this is something Vic rehearsed

And they laugh about it but Vic doesn't understand. He doesn't understand that Oz isn't giving him advice on how to most effectively show people the fire you hold in your heart—he's teaching him the art of smoke and mirrors. how to con and grift and bullshit until even you don't know what's true and real

Christ. Vic is so fucking dead

She'd never look at me again unless i get this done.

Oz knowing now that this love is transactional. And fine. He'll make that transaction, he'll take down sofia and then maybe his mom will pretend again that she doesn't hate him, doesn't want him dead

it's not going to work, of course. it can't because this show is about him becoming the penguin. and it can't, because even that transaction was always a lie Francis told herself

I don't think she could ever have loved Oz even if he'd gotten her into a penthouse at age 20. I think she lied to herself to survive living with him, because what was the alternative? Losing all three of her boys?

AHAHAHAHAHAH SOFIA LITERALLY PICKING UP OZ'S GOLD SUMMIT MEMBERS i have to say. I did not anticipate this at ALL

damn girlie really is just gonna dip to go to italy or wherever

sofia really is just setting up the funniest game of capture the flag imaginable while cramming like seven olives in her mouth

i dont' say this often. i desire her carnally.

The gun in the glove compartment surely that will not come back later

Oz originally checking his image in the reflection of the car vs asking Vic now, treating this kid as his reflection

Damn. Is Link really going to fall for Oz's shit again after that truck of cigs thing? Or is this just a ploy to get Oz into the right place for Sofia to pick him up?

Actually maybe that's what loses Vic, that Link betrayed him, and Oz expected it. Idk we shall see

Penguin planning to run for mayor in a couple movies?

Oh Oz is totally gonna send sofia to arkham ahahaha poor baby

Oh my god I thought Sofia was gonna claim credit for Sal's death, not that Oz would give it up himself

I cannot tell you guys how fucking tempting it is to skip right to the end of this episode to see if i'm right you guys

Wow Oz really eyeing that Mayor's office

Is he going to kill Bella and frame Sofia. Is he gonna kill bella and THAT is what turns Vic on him.

oh my god LINK

HAHAHAH I WAS SO RIGHT SHE IS BURNING DOWN FALCONE MANOR

oh god that's the watch Sofia gave him for his birthday FUCK YOU CARMINE

Sofia really is gonna fucking screw over EVERYONE hahaha THREE CIGS BABY

oh god she is so hot i love her you self actualize through arson baybeeeeeeee

that shot of her throwing the cig like a dart is so much oh my god

babygirl i love you

you deserve the world

but yeah she is going into the cold according to the needle drop. definitely going back to arkham

... what's in the trunk. i don't think it's normal luggage. is it more bombs

there is still 20 mins left. i am afraid

This is clearly a trap for someone i just don't know who. Where is vic

I'm so afraid this is the last we get to see of Sofia.

She knows. She always has such a nose for bullshit lmao. Also fuck you Link you gotta know Oz is gonna stab you in the back.

I do think it's promising that Julian has not been seen all day tho. What is he doing.

I love this. I love that Oz and Sofia finally get this one moment to be truly honest with each other.

Well. At the very least, Oz gets to be honest with Sofia. idk that he knows how to be honest with himself anymore.

Why does this look like a chemical factory. I know it's not happening but it'd be so funny for Sofia to become the joker right now.

just dunk her in the goop

Man. Is he actually going to shoot her. Police pls come and save my girl. Cannot believe that's what I'm begging for now.

oh my god

yeah i called it but. Man. This is so painful to watch. also i think my julian prayers are not going to be answered it did not look like Sofia had planned any of this

okay i'm normal about sofia being arrested now.

Okay. I'm normal.

I'm back to not being normal francis and vic and oz all in one place this is all gonna blow up emotionally

Is francis in a coma. is she totally brain dead oh my god.

oh man she really is never going to say she loves him hahaha

she let jack and benny's murderer go and it never got her anything

is he gonna kill her now.

TELL ME YOU'RE PROUD OF ME oz you fuckin

he's so fucking delusional jesus putting her hand on his head

dude. is Vic actually gonna live through this episode

holy fuck

did not call that in the least

well. i was right about the pyrrhic victory for Oz

"All kinds of things" shut the fuck up.

God. I cannot believe Vic is living through this show. Admittedly as the kind of guy that his parents would have been ashamed of, but.

Wait. No no

don't

don't do it

no nondfonfodnfodnfodfn

please dont

pelase dont

oz don't you dare

nONONNNONONONONONONONONONONONO

PLEASE DOJNT DO IT NOW PLEAE

NO NO HE IS THEO NLY ONE WHO HAS SEEN THE WEAKNESS AND HUMAN IN YOU

OZ YOU

OZ

NO

WITH YOUR HANDS???? WITH YOUR FUCKIGN HANDS???? I THOUGHT HE WOUDL PULL A GUN AT LEAST YOU FUCKING

ODSOFANDFONSODNOSDAGNOGNIOAGDSASGJDISGNAGLNFGOSANFOSDO

SANO

NON NO NONONONO

VIC

vic. vic. vic barely lived a month longer than his family

all that good heart and he just. enabled a monster to rise to power. to make gotham worse

HE'S MUGGING HIM

YOU PIECE OF SHIT YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT YOU BASTARD YOU

i

i

and the water takes him too.

JULIAN

oH MY GOD I WAS RIGHT AHHAAHHAHAHA

JULIAN

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT SOFIA GETTING MARRIAGE PROPOSALS HAHAHAHAHAH

SELINA KYLE???????? HELLO??????????????

bro.... oh my god..... this is....

I'm so happy.........

sofia smiling... sofia finding a new family member....

nvm i am so glad my original theories were wrong this is way better than anything i could have hoped for

oh my god

ohhhhh my god he actually is keeping his mom in a vegetative state.... exactly what she begged him not to do.......

she knows.... she knows... some part of her is aware in there ahahahahah

you should have let Rex kill him all those years ago

oh my god EVE???? EVE GIRL GET OUT BEFORE HE KILLS YOU TOO

oh no please tell me he never learned what happened with sofia and eve

hes literally just calling her ma. fuck me. mayeb that means eve is safe for now

NOT THE BATSIGNAL

[st4rhwa]

𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗬𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗧 k. hj

김홍중 | playboy!kim hongjoong x afab!reader smut, light angst, fluff

synopsis: much like recycled stardust, no matter how far you drift from hongjoong, you'll always find your way back into his arms.

cw: university!au, deliberate lower case, smut, angst, fluffy ending, reader has feminine attributes, ex boyfie joong, push-and-pull kind of relationship, it's not toxicity i promise, hongjoong's a little bit ooc, brief mentions of alcohol/drugs, making out, pet names (baby, princess, joong(ie)), empty threats

wc: 5.7k

𝗮/𝗻: first tumblr fic ! this might be kind of messy ?? i'm still in the learning process of everything lol inspired by: i'm yours (isabel larosa)

sw: unprotected sex, switch!joong, switch! reader, desperate make up sex/kind of hate sex?, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, i really did try to start this blog off with a soft fic but i couldn't help myself

"-you'll come, right?"

just a normal interaction, is what you kept telling yourself. it's nothing special, nowhere near the sort. just a conversation. nothing out of the ordinary.

that's what it would have been if kim hongjoong, your ex boyfriend, hadn't been the one to stop you in the middle of the road to convince you it'd be a good idea to attend his party next saturday. because i mean come on. sex? alcohol? ket? shrooms? please. that's child's play.

but how he's so relaxed around you cognisant of the long history the two of you share, you'll never know.

"i would but.." your witless muttering isn't doing anything for you other than digging your grave. his keen gaze makes your palms sweat; is it the comical height difference or the general attention he seems to be adamant to give you?

"come on," he whines. "i could convince anyone else in the world other than you to go. why do you always make it so difficult?" "not my thing," you should know that, is what you would have liked to add. "sorry." making tracks however, obviously wasn't justifiable in his books. immediately reaching for your wrist, you don't make it much further than two steps before he locks you back in his gaze.

"come on, y/n," "i don't-" "please? i'd really like you to be there." your eyes snap up to his, and the way he looks at you so enticingly makes you want to crawl up into a ball and die.

you hate the fact that he has you in the palm of his hand. especially because he knows it too.

"my ass." you mumble, shoving past another group of people. you're sweating, trying to weave yourself through the crowds of intoxicated young adults mingling, drinking and swaying to the music. you hate it. you hate it so much it's unbearable.

your friends squeeze you into a mini dress and cake you in makeup, just to leave you five minutes into the party to fuck some junkie they'll never talk to ever again. and kim hongjoong? he's nowhere to be found.

your entire being reverberates in time with the heavy bass line of whatever fusion afro beats were playing in the living room. in times like these, the kitchen becomes your safe haven; surrounded by countless bottles of alcohol for you to mix and match as you wish, only seeing the occasional person enter who'd greet you and refill their cup.

you wince when you begin to find the music has become much more bass accelerated, and you decide you need a breather. you would have guessed hongjoong would have retreated upstairs with a girl by now. you guess wrong, however, when your eyes briefly meet his in the midst of the sea of bodies.

his eyes are wide, puppy like, vivid colours reflecting in his pupils. he looks at you expectantly, ignoring the people trying to catch his recognition left and right. he opens his mouth, as if about to say something, before a girl tugs on his arm, sidetracking his attention again.

you keep your head low, shaking it as you run a hand through your hair. you make it through the living room, the foyer through to the dining room, and make a quick move to lock yourself in the bathroom noticing it's vacancy.

the door acts as a soundproof wall, concealing you from all the commotion, the chaos. what was the point of showing up anyway? you had false hope - nothing was going to happen between the two of you even if you got down on your hands and knees and begged.

in truth, kim hongjoong is a coward. it doesn't matter how hard he tries to deny it, it's simply his thing. he makes a move, poised and mighty. but once the conviction begins to fade he shrivels into nothing more than a drop in the ocean, and hides his uneasiness by picking up another side chick. one moment he loves you, the next, he doesn't.

you shake your head, hands resting on either side of the sink. your heart is racing rapidly, and you feel pathetic. you feel pathetic because you know that your cheeks are red because of him. your palpitating heart is because of him. your thighs pressing together is all because of him.

you hate him, is what you keep telling yourself. you hate him and his reckless actions, his arrogance, his popularity, his likeability, his devilish smile, his handsome face, his perfect body- fuck. that's not it. you don't hate him. you hate how much you love him, how deeply you fell for his charms.

your index finger drags along your aegyo sal, wiping away smudged mascara and eyeliner. your eyes settle in the mirror dragging over your worn expression, and you sigh. it'd probably be best if you left before it got too late.

you jump slightly when there are a few desperate bangs at the door. "c'mon! gotta fuckin' piss-" you snatch your phone from the shelf, frantically unlocking the door and pushing it open, running off before you could face any confrontation.

maybe you were just a coward too.

you immediately approach the adjacent door which leads to the garden. reaching for the handle, you swing it open and slam it closed behind you before anyone else could follow. your back rests against the cool glass, and you exhale softly, finally being able to find some peace and quiet in the midst of the clamour.

you catch your breath, pulling out your phone from your back pocket and opening it to call an uber.

"i was almost convinced you weren't gonna show."

your eyes clamp shut. make it a nightmare. make it some sort of weird twisted dream. maybe someone spiked your drink - perhaps you were just hallucinating.

you blink once, twice, before hongjoong's index finger catches your chin. "hey. look at me." you can barely pick out his features, the dim lights emitting from the inside of his dining room just barely illuminating his cheekbones. "stop-.. running, from me.." he sighs out at the sight of your uncomfortable facial expression, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. he continues, before you can stop to think, "i try to talk to you, we give it a go, you regret ever giving it a go and run off, and this whole cycle repeats itself." his hands drift to your shoulders, down your sides before finding welfare on your hips. "and i don't think that's fair.."

his soft and rich tone makes your shoulders relax, and your head leans back, gently bumping against the door. "talk to me." you pull yourself together and shake your head, pushing him off you. "you talk like it's just me doing all the running. that's pretty ballsy coming from you," the way he looks at you tells you he knows that. better than anyone else. "and why does it matter anyway. go back inside, it's your party. bet your side chick's already waiting for you."

to your dismay, his hands reach for you again. he ignores your snarky comments, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, forehead bumping against yours. his eyes are large; doe-like. they're nothing short of innocent, but you're not blind to the small flames kindling within his pupils.

"i want to know why you're ignoring me. why you've stopped loving me so abruptly." his eyes fall shut and his eyelashes tickle your forehead. "otherwise i might have to make you tell me.." he tilts his head ever so slightly, soft, pillowy lips brushing against yours. "hongjoong.." your voice only comes out in the form of a whisper, and it makes hongjoong nod softly. "shh baby.. i've got you, it's okay."

"i don't-" "what happened, y/n? just abruptly telling me you're breaking up with me and then avoiding me for weeks on end isn't you. you're better than this!" "you're not right for me, hongjoong!" shit. that came out wrong. like that, the flames in his pupils douse. hongjoong's shoulders droop and his hands fall, but his eyes stay glued to yours. "no," you shake your head, rephrasing. "i'm not right for you."

"what makes- what makes you say that?" "listen to me closely, hongjoong." he wished you'd use his name in a brighter light. "i'm not right for you." "you're repeating the same shit but you're not telling me what it fucking means!" he rips away from you, a hand tugging through his hair. "what the fuck happened?! i thought we were doing well i-, i made sure you knew i loved you and i tried to make time for you-" "that's my problem! you're too busy- you've got no time for me! you've got dance, singing, producing, all these fucking parties! where does that leave me? does it make me love you any less? no! but i can't afford to be neglected by you!"

hongjoong's mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to wrack his brain for something- anything! but deep down he knows you're right. he's busy, he can barely catch a break. and then off he goes throwing parties when he should be spending time with you. but somehow, 90% of what you say goes through one ear and out the other-

"you still, love.. me?" you scoff. "of course i do. but i just.. think it's better if you move on an-" "why do i have to move on when i haven't lost anything?" a smile grows on his face, and he grips your wrists excitedly. "i- i thought you hated me! and-" "are you not grasping anything i'm saying right now!" you yell over his excited yapping. "i'm saying!-" he quiets down to a soft pause. "-..you need to find someone who suits your needs better."

you barely register his sudden movements as he bursts forward, taking your cheeks in his hands as he slams his lips against yours. his eyes roll back as he sighs into your mouth. god how he's missed the feeling. he presses his body flush against yours, revelling in the feeling of, well, you. your addictive lips, your sleek hair, your compelling curves, he basks in you.

you try to break away, but your body seems to have other plans, arching into him. "hongjoong-" it's not longer than a second before he once again encapsulates your lips with his. you try to make out a sentence between desperate kisses. "we- .. we- shouldn't-" his front teeth graze your bottom lip, and he pulls you nice and tight against him, just the way you like it.

you would have made more of an effort to flee if it didn't feel so fucking good. his hands never cease to wander your body like it's an uncharted island in the pacific ocean. if they're not massaging your waist, they're sliding up and down your exposed back. if they're not sliding up and down your exposed back, they're groping your ass. he just can't get enough of you- of how intoxicating you are.

"hongjoong for fucks sak-" "shh." he smirks softly against your lips. he knows that bit by bit, little by little, you're giving in to him. or more, the idea of him. you melt into his hold, whining a little at an attempt to show your frustration. but he just coos mockingly, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. your right leg naturally hikes up against his hip, and he holds it in place with his vacant hand. "so good for me," his lips part and he kisses your nose. "such a good girl."

you can't believe this is happening. you're internally sour, trying to search for any reason left in this bottomless pit of lust you're drowning in. you can feel it rising inside of you, and it'll swallow you up eventually.

you don't think you've ever wanted him so bad. in fact, you don't think you've ever wanted anyone as badly as you do right now. you have to have him. otherwise it might just eat you alive.

"do you want-.." he's breathless, making sure your eyes never leave his. he's stuttering over his words, suddenly finding himself shrink under your gaze; it almost makes you smile. "uh- no pressure, by the way i-" your finger gently drags along the surface of his lip, deep red nail getting caught in the dip between them. you whisper softly, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "let's go."

sneaking away could have definitely been easier if hongjoong didn't always blatantly stick out like a neon highlighter in a tub of black markers. man of the hour or not, he can't help being stopped and pinched into conversations left and right and your patience is thinning. "hongjoong.." you mumble, and he nods profusely towards you in apology, excusing himself to his mates and bidding them a good night.

"aye! hongjoong, over here!" "hey guys!-" you pinch his elbow, pressing your lips to his ear. "go over to one more person and you'll get it." he feels himself twitch in his pants, but he just rolls his eyes and smiles at you with a satirising tone. "c'mon babe!~ it's 3RACHA! i can't just ignore 3RACHA!" he tries to shake away the thoughts nagging him to turn back in his head, releasing his arm from your wrist and jogging towards them. so much for not neglecting me. your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek, and you swing back around, making a beeline for the stairwell.

you're aware of hongjoong's strict rule of the second floor being prohibited during parties, but regardless of it you sneak past the numerous couples humping one another in the hallway, climbing the stairs up to his bedroom.

you exhale softly with your forehead pressed to the door, hand resting on the golden handle. you shouldn't be this nervous. it's only been a few months, you used to spend more time here than you did in your own apartment. but once you step into the room and shut the door, the overwhelming scent of him leaves you dumbfounded. your shaky hand drifts to the handle in a moment of diffidence, but you shake your head, and do nothing more than wipe your sweaty hands on the fabric of your dress.

you kick off your heels, feet dragging along the the off-grey carpet flooring as you trail over to his king sized bed. the satin sheets are cold against your lower thighs, and your hands gently grip the lush material. your eyes drift over his walls as you slip your arms out of the sleeves of your dress: his desk, his wardrobe, nothing had changed. however, what does catch your eye is a bottle of your signature perfume on his shelf, nearing its last millilitres.

you have your suspicions, bringing his pillow up to your nose. you sigh softly at the faint smell of your perfume lingering all over it. you haven't used that brand since you were last here all those months ago. you shimmy off the rest of your dress leaving you in your red lace lingerie, and you stride over to the shelf and pick up the small glass bottle. you flick the cap off with your thumb, and spritz the scented spray all over your body and the sheets.

laying back into the duvet, you feel your core throb with wanting and need as the aged memories invade your mind. your hands wander, just like his. they trace your curves the way he would, almost like it's muscle memory. "mh, joong.." you whisper to yourself as your back arches off of the mattress, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the side.

your hands fondle your breasts, and you let out the softest moan as your thumbs brush over your perky nipples. "hongjoong.." you whine the tiniest bit louder, hands hooking into your underwear and sliding them down your spread legs. sighing, your index and middle finger slip themselves between your folds, pushing them apart and lathering your wetness all over the digits. they slowly trace around your clit as you snatch your phone from the bedside table.

you would have never thought you'd be doing this again, but you open his archived chat left inactive for 5 months and click the camera in the bottom left corner. this was risky, and you'd be most likely to regret it. but nonetheless you begin recording, and whine softly into the phone. you feign innocence, pinching your clit softly between your fingers before you insert them both inside you. you gasp as you release an over exaggerated moan before hitting the send button.

you wait with a satisfied look on your face, watching one tick turn into two, from grey to blue. at that, your phone is forgotten, and your eyes flutter closed as you give your undivided attention to yourself.

hongjoong is becoming desperate. having to act like he didn't almost cream his pants at the sight of your wet pussy through his phone screen was tougher than he had originally imagined. he tucks his phone into his back pocket, trying to subtly adjust the baggy jeans hanging on his hips. while jisung and changbin eagerly talk to him, his eyes daintily drift to the side, catching seonghwa's gaze from the pool table.

seonghwa tilts his head, and hongjoong pats the side of his leg before tucking his index, middle and ring finger into his palm to form a phone sign. he holds it for two seconds before focusing back on the conversation he's having.

he thanks seonghwa indebtedly when it doesn't take much more than a blink of an eye before his phone vibrates in his back pocket. "sorry, i have to take this," he's apologetic, gesturing towards his phone. "have a good night guys!" he gives seonghwa a pat on the shoulder as he passes by, and seonghwa returns the gesture with a wink.

he can't resist himself as he walks through the hallway, opening the video again and feeling his cock throb violently in the confines of his jeans. he practically sprints up the stairs when you send another text: "you better hurry up or i'm leaving." it was a lie, obviously. hongjoong knew it too. but that didn't stop him from becoming overly eager.

he bursts through the door, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets at the sight of three fingers plunging in and out of your pussy, presented proudly out in the open for only his eyes to see, the erotic squelching sounds become apparent when he closes the door: "what took you so long," you sigh out accompanied by a breathy moan. "i'm sorry baby." he mumbles, already reaching for his belt as he kneels at the bed, unbuckling it and tossing it to the side.

"you should be," you pull your fingers out, using your clean hand to pull him into a sloppy, open mouthed, all teeth and saliva, kiss. "i'm expecting compensations." he pulls back with a grin, tugging his black tank top over his head. "of course, princess."

his knees straddle your hips, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck. with his jeans already hanging so low on his hips, your feet make a move to slide them off to his ankles, he finishes the job off, discarding them on the floor. the beautiful, overbearing scent of your perfume makes him shiver, and he grips the sheets on either side of you, striving ever so hard as not to completely lose control of himself. he wants to take this slowly with you, enjoy the moment of finally having you back in his arms again.

or at least that's what he would have liked, but it seems you had other plans. "so, you gonna fuck me or what?" you exhale, arching up into him when his lips find your pebbled nipple, suckling gently as his hand gropes your unattended tit. he supposes he could wait to take it slow another time.

"patience," he grins, drifting down to your pelvis, deciding this is where he wanted to leave his mark. "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he nips, sucks, kisses, littering red, lip sized marks all over your pubic bone, making sure they would last at least a few days. your hand reaches down to grip his gelled back hair, and he groans softly as you tug on the strands. your legs spread as he makes himself comfortable between them, and he swears he almost cums in his boxers when your ankle moves to the back of his head, violently shoving him into your wet pussy.

he moans out, arms wrapping around your thighs as his lips make contact with your clit. you taste better than he ever remembers. sweet yet salty, flavourful, delicious. "mmh, that's good.." you whisper softly, and the praise makes hongjoong ever the more motivated to pleasure you. "am i good for you baby?" you grin and nod softly. "so good." he smirks and coats his index and middle finger in your slick before pushing them into your already stretched out hole.

and you know the second that his fingers, longer than yours, push and curl into you combined with his tongue lapping away at your clit, that you won't last long. more of your slick drips out and onto hongjoong's hand; you can't remember the last time you were so desperate. "missed you so much baby." he whines out, unable to resist rolling his hips once, twice, into the mattress, trying to alleviate the aching in his boxers. "so- so good hongjoong- shit," you stutter out in between gasps and whines, feeling that familiar pit in your pelvis when his fingers drill themselves against your g-spot.

the long suck to your nub that follows straight after is what throws you over the edge. you're just tinkering on the edge of an orgasm, and you know it when your legs begin to shake. "hongjoong! hongjoong- please! oh god- oh fuck i'm cumming," you thrash around, legs wrapping themselves around his head and suffocating him in your pussy.

hongjoong feels his hard cock positively twitch and leak like a broken faucet as translucent, salty liquid leaks out of you and onto his stuck out tongue. he hums appreciatively, chest puffing up with pride when he realises he made you cum with just his fingers and tongue. faster than ever before, too. he makes the lewdest slurping sounds with his tongue, drinking you up as if he were a feral, famished man. at this point, he might as well be one.

"good?" he asks with a toothy smile, his sharp canines peaking out through his swollen lips. "so good. so good for me, joongie.." you whisper to him, running a hand through his hair before tightening it, curling and tugging him towards you. his lips meet yours in a kiss much gentler than any of the ones exchanged earlier, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. your hands reach down to feel around the wet patch of his pre-cum on the front of his boxers, and you make a fast move to tug them down his legs, tossing them to the side before pulling him into your arms. "think you deserve a reward, baby?"

he nods so eagerly, you swear you see a tail wagging behind him as he hums keenly. "yeah?" you croon, enjoying watching him become desperate to please you and himself too. he doesn't even make an effort to hide how eager he is to slip into you and fall into a deep abyss of euphoria, brain filled with nothing other than praise and pleasure - and maybe a little white noise too. "what does my baby want?"

"to cum.." he mumbles, leaning down to nibble at your neck while his cold fingers drift down to where he had left his bruises on you, tracing them lovingly. it was almost primal, to him. to see you marked up. it reminded him that you truly did belong to him. "wan' make you cum too- wanna cum inside.." he twitches when your hand comes to wrap around the base of his cock. "i'm so fuckin' hard.. i wanna fuck you so fuckin' bad, baby." he begs breathlessly, thrusting up into your hand for more friction.

"you're so lucky i love you," you mutter under your breath, and his breath hitches as his dick simultaneously twitches in response. his stomach erupts into butterflies, but he tries to suppress the mushy feelings for the post-orgasm conversation he knows he'll end up having with you whether you like it or not.

"you really are just leaking aren't you? so messy." you tease, thumb swiping over his slit and he curls into you with a hiss, eyes falling shut. "sensitive today, are we?" you mumble, twisting your fist around his cock head again to draw another reaction from him. "been hard all day," he admits, head falling into the crook of your neck. "wanted to wait so i could fuck you." you shake your head with a chuckle. "so bold to automatically assume i'd let you fuck me."

hongjoong honestly believes he sees the gates of the afterlife appear in front of him when he finally feels your wet heat press against his cock. you drag your folds up and down the base of him, using a mixture of your cum, slick and his leftover saliva to lubricate him. "w-well i'm here now, aren't- aren't i?" you sigh, guiding his tip to your sopping hole. "eh, i guess so." your palms rest against his back when you slam his hips down onto you in one harsh movement. hongjoong's breath is knocked out of him at the unexpected movement, and his fingers grip your hips as he whines loud. "oh fuck-!"

you've missed him so badly. skin to skin, lips to lips, heart to heart, you have him fully. you hum, head dropping back into the satin pillows. "that's it.. i've missed you, joong. missed this big cock so much." you don't think your cunt could ever get used to the delicious stretch his cock provides you with, with or without fingers beforehand. he just reaches that particular spot inside you that nobody else ever could, and it drives you absolutely mad with adoration.

but what snaps you out of your bliss is that you realise hongjoong has no plans of moving. his head just stays dipped into the crook of your neck, hands gripping your waist so hard the skin will positively bruise, panting hard. "hello?" you mumble, poking the side of his head. he grumbles out something unintelligible, and it makes you sigh, propping yourself up onto your elbows. "this pussy's not gonna fuck itself, is it?" your question is more rhetorical, but it makes hongjoong wince. "c-can't." his voice is strained, and you have an idea of why, yet you still choose to prod further. "what do you mean, 'you can't'?"

"feels too good.." he whispers, and you grin. admittedly, hongjoong is indeed, a very busy man. jobs, producing, lectures, dance classes, clubs, parties, he's everywhere doing everything all at once. but the most critical aspect of it all, was that he was loyal to you. he hadn't kissed, touched, or fucked a single other person since he last had you, holding onto that small slither of hope that he could win you back when the time was right.

that, however, now leaves him in a sticky - no pun intended - situation where he knows that if he doesn't pull himself together, he'll drain his balls within minutes of fucking you. "oh? poor baby.." you feign innocence, just for a few seconds before your legs wrap around his hips, beginning to grind up onto him in search of your own friction. "that's too bad."

hongjoong yelps, trying to ground himself by fisting his duvet into a death grip, little whimpers making it past his sealed lips. your hands take a hold of his hips, aiding you in your movements. "you gonna help me now, or what?" you grit out, and all he can do is shake his head frantically, bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "i- i'll cum baby- i can't!-" "so what? cum or not, we're not stopping until i do." he exhales shakily.

"so are you gonna be a good? or will i have to go find someone else who can fuck me right?" hongjoong grits his teeth, shaking his head and putting all of his body weight on you until you come to a stop, he experiments, thrusting up once, twice, before mumbling a soft: "okay.". you rub his back gently, whispering in return: "come on.."

the sudden snap of his hips catches you off guard. you squeak, hands frantically reaching for his biceps to ground yourself. "shit! th- that's it hongjoong! ngh-" he nods frantically, yanking your knees up to your chest to thrust even deeper. he groans, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to focus on how gorgeous you look beneath him, or how slick the sounds between you are, or how good your pussy feels, or how badly he wants to fucking cum.

he sets a brutal pace, balls slapping against your ass with every deep, meaningful thrust into you. "atta boy.. ohh baby i-" you gasp out, feeling the pad of hongjoong's thumb press down on your clit, rubbing up and down in synchronisation with his thrusts.

he pants hard and desperately it's almost concerning, lips parted and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth as he buries his head deep into the crook of your neck. you arch up into him, breasts pressing flush against his bare chest. your rhythmic clenching, the borderline salacious amount of wetness inside of you, the raking of your nails on his back, it's almost too much for him.

the longer he pursues you, the more he realises that he in fact, cannot wait, and will cum. he had tried not to too early, truly! but he had been close the second he walked into the damn room, and the amount of different versatile sensations he has no choice but to feel drive him over the edge. "baby- i can't- i can't i-" your legs wrap themselves around his hips, locking him in. "it's okay baby. go on. cum for me. fill me up."

with that, he's gone. you don't think you've ever seen him behave this way in the years you've known him. "oh godd yes- yes yes yes-" he's lewd, and he puts professional pornography to shame. the way he presents himself is obscene, head thrown back, eyes rolled into them. a staggered groan escapes him as he comes undone, his seed flowing inside of you as he gently rocks his hips, knuckles whiter than white with the pressure he's putting on the pillows either side of your head. you guide him through his orgasm, petting his hair softly.

his back glistens with beads of sweat among the moles and freckles dotted along his shoulder blades, and they flex as his arms slowly yet surely move to wrap around your torso. he exhales, nuzzling into you as he catches his forfeited breaths back.

you supposed that if he were unable to continue, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. it was even between the two of you now, and you were both correspondingly satisfied. you reach down and grip the base of him that isn't enveloped inside of you, and can't even begin to attempt to suppress the grin on your face when you realise he's still hard. "not satisfied yet, are you?"

he's about to defend himself, promise you he's not as filthy as he presents himself to be. but there's no need for it, seeing as you give him no time to rest before you climb on top of him, and start rocking your hips. and honest to god, hongjoong has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

he's being used like a toy, and he loves it. but at the same time he isn't sure if you want him to help you or if he should take it, so many thoughts rushing through his mind but in reality he's just trying to stall so he doesn't cum again. he's a ragdoll in your arms, the pleasure he had been feeling a few seconds ago returning in an instant with a new found sensitivity, your pussy even wetter with his cum. he ever so desperately wanted to take back the dominance between the two of you, he knew he could do it. but the most he could do to even voice a reaction was curse loudly, cry out and throw his head back.

he takes it back. completely. there was no way he could do anything other than accept it without any objections. it was everything he had ever wanted and more, there was nothing going on in his mind other than perpetual euphoria.

"fuck i'm close," you whisper, cursing in approval when hongjoong's index and middle finger work at your clit in time with your bounces. "c-cum for me? cum for me baby?" hongjoong's eyes brim with tears, a mix of sentimentality and overstimulation. you nod frantically, finally letting the knot in your gut come loose, letting out a wail as your orgasm washes over you.

he whines softly at the feeling of you gushing around him, and he cums a second time. he fills you up again with a groan through gritted teeth, in smaller spurts with less amount than the first. you pant, falling limp on top of him with a grunt. "that was good," you hum, hand moving to trace his collarbone.

hongjoong's arms come to encircle around your waist, pressing you close to his chest as he begins to soften inside of you, making no move to pull out. he kisses your temple, one of his hands moving to the back of your head, caressing your dishevelled head of hair. hongjoong has never felt such relief as he does holding you, your body feeling just right with his, and he can't help but think to himself..

"i love you." he blurts out. the confession is rushed, panicked and hesitant. you feel his body tense up the moment he registers he's said it, but you just smile against his chest, poking him in the rib. "you're okay i guess." not getting the answer he wants, he groans. "princess.." his tone is whiny, and you giggle, sitting up to plant a passionate kiss to his lips.

"i'm joking, joong. i love you too."

© st4rcig4r 2024 i do not give permission for my writing to be copied, translated or posted anywhere but tumblr.

[a-random-weeb]

Hiii love ur account! Idk if I can request cause it says it’s closed, so sorry if I’m wrong!

Can I please request a yandere who looks very dominant; tall and buff with muscles. Literally everyone is scared of him because of how frightening he looks. Everyone other than Reader: Yandere is actually scared of reader and is very submissive around them. He actively seeks Reader’s approval and will do anything for her. Kind of like a guard dog? He’s really just a big puppy who craves Readers affection. Thank youuuu

Awww I love this idea!! Let's name him... Austyn, idk it just fits lol. I couldn't think of what age to make him, so I said screw it and put yall in high-school because that's the easiest

Also I know you requested this months ago, and everyone else requested their things months ago, guys I've been so tired recently, I'm so sorry I haven't been able to write what you've been wanting me to. I'm so sorry if you're still waiting on your request, and I'm hoping I'll get more chances to write soon. Thank you for your patience :)

Warnings: Yandere (obv), clingy and obsessive behavior, a little more than just mentions of murder, slight mentions of rape (not to reader or anything i just noticed it was brought up so I figured I'd put it in just incase), reader gets forcefully drugged, kidnapping

This fic is not meant to romanticize unhealthy and toxic relationships, it's hot af in fanfictions but is never ok irl

°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~

A huge man towers over you, his shadow engulfing your entire figure, his huge muscles and rough exterior making him appear as if he could kill. He stares down at your petite and fragile body in an intimidating manner as you jolt up in a sitting position. Clutching the desk beneath your upper body, you recognize him almost immediately.

"Where am I?! What do you want?!" You scream dramatically, almost tipping backwards in your chair.

"You fell asleep in class." His eyes narrow. "I had to poke you a bunch so you would wake up. The bell just rang, its lunch time." Your whole face burns a cherry color.

"Um- thanks..." Your eyes wander anywhere but his face. The corners of his mouth ever so slighty elevate as he leans on your desk.

"Would you like to eat lunch together?" He tilts his head slightly in an almost cute way. Your brows furrow in confusion, but nod regardless out of pure fear. He could probably kill you in one hit. No, simply him blowing on you would be enough to knock you 8 miles. You pack your school supplies and walk to your locker, Austyn almost breathing down your back as he watches you grab your stuff.

Entering the cafeteria, you both take a seat in one of the only spots left in the overcrowded area, its a bit shocking when kids start scooting away from you both, even the kids across from you want nothing to do with your new 'friend'. Or thats at least what you hope he wants with you...

Your prayers were answered, but in the worst way possible. It's almost physically painful watching Austyn attempt to make conversation with you. Stuttering over every second word, obviously embarrassed and anxious, fumbling with his hands. It was... cute. You'd never thought he would be like this while talking to him, you've seen him be rude and cold to everyone, maybe he's just shy and comes off as rude? Guess you'll find out. You, having not as many friends as you'd like to have, appreciate the attention from him regardless. But he desperately needed help with this whole social thing, so you give him a hand.

"If you're not busy, maybe you could help me with homework after we finish eating?" You smile, hoping he's not busy before you die of embarrassment. Thankfully, he nods, and the two of you finish your meal in silence.

You were hoping he'd be a little more outgoing and not as awkward in the library, but boy were you wrong. More stuttering, more avoidance of eye contact, more hand fidgeting. He wasnt even helping, just sitting there and watching you, almost too intently. You almost scream of joy when your best and only friend, Abby, joins you.

"Hi!" She beams excitedly, taking a seat next to you, "need help?"

"You're my savior!" You giggle, hugging her. Austyns aura immediately chances from a shy puppy to one that could kill. He glares daggers into Abby as she speaks a bit too friendly to you, gets a little too close to you, helps you instead of him. He knows he needs to up his game, but your stupid friend might ruin his chances.

Abby was your friend since elementary school, you've never been great at giving anyone a smile, but she always brings out your biggest one. She's helped you through so much, you owe her your life!

The rest of lunch Austyn stays silent and in the background, you assume he's shy... God, you hope that he was not hurt. You continued the rest of your classes like normal, overjoyed when the day comes to an end.

You and Abby walk home together, teasing and laughing with eachother. Austyn trails behind you both, not talking too much. Neither of you know where Austyn lives, and forget to ask. They drop you off at your house, and Abby lives just across the street so you guess Austyn walks her home. The long between your houses and the school is 30 minutes. You could take the bus, and you do in the mornings, but the walk is too beautiful to miss, so fun laughing with your best friend through the sunset in the city, too fun running through the long field of grass, racing down the streets, seeing who can reach your house the fastest, rubbing it in your face as you both either collapse on your porch or Abby goes home. Sometimes, you dance outside together, sharing secrets, giggling over whatever crush the other one has... Abbys friends with almost everyone, but the two of you are inseparable. Tonight though, you only talked with Abby, not wanting to make Austyn feel left out, and not wanting to seem awkward infront of your new friend. You run inside, jumping into your bed, thinking Austyn is just a little cute. Maybe a tiny crush? You don't think on it too much, as you pass out.

The next day, Austyn starts hanging out with you and Abby, which neither of you mind. He's a bit less shy and a bit more friendly. He's in your homeroom, science, and math class, so you sat next to him in all of those. You guys talked and exchanged answers from time to time, overall getting along very well. You guys hang out at lunch, and sure, you give a slight bit more attention to Abby, but thats it, and overall, the three of you get along like three peas in a pod. The next four days go similarly, your crush for him grows.

One lunch time the three of you meet up, eat, and head to the library. You weren't sure what was wrong, but Austyn didn't seem to be a huge fan of Abby, only hanging out and attempting to make conversation with you, almost cutting Abby out. You, of course, refuse to let that happen, and keep adding your friend the the conversation. You and Abby exchange a confused look, Austyn normally loves you and Abby.

After school the same day, you run over to Abbys locker, waiting for her to grab her stuff. You wait for 5 minutes... 10 minutes... 20 minutes... she doesn't show up. Thinking it's a bit strange, you still wait, assuming she was held back in class or something, as the teachers often like to praise her work or offer her opportunities for an upcoming math competition or something. She appears, after awhile, running towards you. The two of you begin to walk home together. When you ask her what she was doing, she awkwardly dodges the question. You leave her alone about it.

The next day when you arrive at school, Abby still didn't show up. How strange, you think to yourself. Abby hasn't missed a single day this year, not even when she was sick, you have no clue how she does it. Straight As, no days missed, friends with everyone she talks to, yet she's not here. You couldn't help but feel a pit in your stomach, not wanting to assume the worst. You would've thought she'd at least text you right? The more you thought about it the worse it got. What if she was raped by a creepy teacher?? What if she was kidnapped?! Maybe she got a deadly sickness and has three days to live! There's so many possibilities you weren't sure, what if-

"Hey!" Your new 'friend' from yesterday appears before you, looking like he's accomplished something great.

"Hi...?" You look up at him, calming yourself immediately. You knew you shouldn't overthink this, she probably just missed her bus or something. Austyn obviously picks up on your torn face as he asks,

"Hey, are you ok? You look offput..." he does his signature, puppy-like head tilt. you quickly nod your head, laughing to yourself silently of the stupidity of your overdramatic thoughts. You weren't normally so anxious, this over worried about your friend not being at school immediately, but for some reason, your gut was screaming at you that something bad happened. And then... The overwhelming feeling to run hits you. Looking at Austyns smile fills you with a strange sense of dread. White noise echos in your ears.

"Woah, woah, calm down!" He panics, "Hey what happened? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Hes acting way too friendly today... you shake your head.

"I-I don't know what's wrong with me today? I guess it's just a weird day....?" Austyn rushes to wipe some tears you didn't notice were were falling from your eyes.

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it...." he sighs "I don't know what happened, but stop worrying."

Abby was murdered.

You don't know how you know, last night was such a haze... what happened...? Pictures of her dead body flash in your mind, the killer standing there with a knife and sadistic smile. You swear it was a dream... you remember beginning your walk home, but can't remember anything passed the midway point, not even what you did last night, did you even eat dinner? You didn't wear pajamas last night, you assumed you were just tired when you woke up. But did you really see Abbys murder or is this just the most dramatic you've ever been on a Wensday morning?

You continued your day like normal, the sinking feeling never leaving you. Austyn was acting strange, outgoing and sweet to you. And yet his face was making you want to throw up for some reason... to go as far as to flee the country. Well, maybe not that far, but you certainly didn't want him near you for some reason.

The end of the days comes, and your dumbass told Austyn he could walk you home. It was probably fine, you'd go to sleep tonight and tomorrow everything would be normal, Abby would be at school and Austyn wouldn't be as creepy to you. You're sure of it.

You wait for him near the entrance of the school, and of course, when he comes out, he's almost stumbling over his own feet to run towards you.

"Hey!" He gives a huge innocent smile as he begins walking with you, clutching the arms of his backpack in a shy manner. You smile up at him, not sure if it's a real smile or not. No words are exchanged as you both watch little cracks of the sunset through all the large buildings of the city. It wasn't cold, but it definitely wasn't hot, the perfect night for a first kiss. Stars beginning to appear as you make your way out of downtown, you've only been walking for 15 minutes... almost the midway point... you have a much better view of the now gone sun, there's still a bit of red. There's no one around, it's a gorgeous night, you're walking home with a guy... everything should be perfect, it should be romantic. You recognize this, Deja vu, but different.... memories from what you think to be the dream, or a cruel reality you weren't sure yet start to appear. Abbys lifeless body in the long grass, the moonlight to the killers back, you know who it was, but you can't remember.... all these events took place just upahead and-

It wasn't a dream.

Blood stains lay in the grass and you point to Austyn, not in control of your body or the words that spill from your mouth, or the tears that spill from your mouth, or the puke that's about to spill from your mouth.

"You did this... didn't you...?"

Austyns eyes darken, "and you remember. I knew the sedatives wouldn't work as well as I wanted them to..." he sighs "I did this for you, don't you see?! I killed her for you. I've loved you for so long and you've never even looked at me. So I stalked you, learned about you, you're so cute yknow! You never laughed the same way around me as you did with Abby, ramble to me as you did with her.... So now our problem is gone, and we can be the cutest couple!" He spits delusionally. You back away from him, the moon to his back, the same spot as last night. He grabs your wrist harshly, overpowering you easily.

"You can't run darling, now let's go to my house!" He beams, "I'll even bring you home the head of someone you don't like!" You thrash around, screaming for help, but Austyn just giggles and hugs you to him, holding one hand around your arms and torso and the other over your mouth. "Shhhhh, it'll be ok!" He puts a chloroform filled cloth to your mouth, and everything goes dark.

Maybe I'll write a part 2, maybe I'll do headcannons, maybe I'll leave you guys to imagine the rest, we'll see :3

[bluestjayy]

Life update:

I didn't make my deadline.

After approximately 200 applications, only 6 (first stage) interviews, 3 (second stage interviews), and more rejections than I could cope with some days, I unfortunately haven't been able to find a job since being laid off in September. This means I can no longer stay in my apartment. Which. Sucks.

I'm lucky enough to have my parents to fall back on, so I'll be moving back to their bungalow until I can find something to support me and save up enough money to come back to the city, so that's something. But it's also not going to be great for me while I'm there.

My hometown is an incredibly small mining town in the rural north-east, it's ridiculously close minded and conservative. I'm not out to any of my family for this reason, so I am for sure signing up for a minimum of a year being misgendered and stomaching casual bigotry from everyone I'm surrounded by.

And I love my parents, but our relationship isn't the best. They have a lot of really unhealthy, toxic, and occasionally abusive behaviours, and the way they treat each other and me is really... well it's not always good. Which is part of the reason I not only moved out but to a city that's 3 hours away in the first place. Their home is not intended for anyone but the two of them, it is incredibly small, and I will be living in a second room that only fits a camp bed and a small desk with very little privacy as this room is also where some of the utilities are. It's something, and I am so lucky to have this option at all vs complete homelessness. But I also know the toll this is all going to take on me physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I have already had to start looking at my current possessions, over 4 years of the life I built here, and decide which parts I get to keep and which I now have to leave behind.

Being back there is going to be... I don't know. I get into dark places whenever I go home for the holidays for a few days so living there again... I really don't know.

I guess the only thing keeping me going is the idea I will be able to come back to the city I'm in right now, the one I call home, eventually. It's just going to take some time.

And I have a plan, I am already job hunting for remote roles I can do back there, I'm open to taking on two or three if necessary, and I've started working on opening an Etsy store for some of my crafting creations that may also help me fundraise the money to leave a lot faster. Perhaps I'll even consider commissions again.

But it's definitely going to be a long long year getting myself back on my feet again.

One of the only upsides currently is how much time I have to be working on fic and art (whenever the muse allows me!) so that's something I guess haha.

Anyway, thoughts and love and support and virtual hugs go a long way for me rn, and if you're so inclined (absolutely 100% not necessary but every little helps) here is the link to my tip-jar:

Ko-Fi

Even just giving this post a share would really help me right now. Those who know me know I find it really difficult to ask for help even when I'm in desperate need of it but I think, after six weeks of this reality slowly creeping up on me, I have reached a point where I am ready to say I really need it.

The fandom communities I have found myself in the last year have been an absolute rock for me. And I am so glad I get to be a part of them with you all.

In the end, it will be okay. That's what I have to keep telling myself. Positively rebellious and rebelliously positive.

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day and I appreciate you all so much 💛

[alwaysmicado]

It's always been you

3.3k words | NSFW 18+ | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: angst, age gap (unspecified), swearing, brief mention of p in v sex, brief mention of disordered eating and suicide, mention of black eye, toxic relationship, drug use, reader's coping mechanisms are unhealthy Summary: After a year of dating Dieter Bravo, you are forced to face reality. All good things must come to an end, right? A/N: Nothing is more painful than realizing the person you love is not good for you.

Enjoy the hurt and let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you! 🖤

“Baby, please just listen to me,” Dieter implores. You huff and shake your head, avoiding his pleading eyes. “It didn’t mean anything. It really didn’t, okay? I- I don’t want her,” you can hear the desperation in his voice. He’s a good actor, you gotta give him that.

“Baby?” He takes a step towards you but knows better than to touch you right know. Even if that’s all he wants to do. Wrapping his strong arms around you, feeling your heartbeat against his chest, inhaling your scent. He says your name softly, his voice laden with anguish. You turn your head a little and your eyes find his. Dieter’s beautiful brown eyes. The eyes you've been losing yourself in for the past year.

“Please just tell me what I can do to fix this and I’ll do it. Anything. Please,” he takes another step towards you and whispers, “I can’t lose you.” Arrogant asshole. The illusion is gone.

You furrow your brow and tilt your head, studying the man in front of you. Dressed in his favorite pair of gray sweatpants, a loose white shirt that accentuates his tan skin, perfectly disheveled hair just screaming to be played with, sad puppy eyes. He looks like always - irritatingly handsome.

Something's off though. His body language, usually relaxed and confident, is teeming with insecurity. You smirk at that thought. Dieter Bravo, enigmatic celebrity and notorious playboy, insecure because of you. What a joke.

“You really think I'm fucking stupid, don't you?” Your voice is steady, every word filled with venom. “Just some silly girl you can use to get your dick wet and feed your ego.” He winces at that. Good. “I know you're used to people bending over backwards for you, blowing smoke up your ass and never saying no to you. But guess what, they don't give a shit about you.” Your face is heating up and you can feel your restraint slipping.

“I'm sure she made you feel really good, Dieter. Like a real star.” You snort sardonically and smirk, “Did you give her the same speech you gave me when we met? How you're this misunderstood guy just trying to get by and find real love?” You look around, shrugging your shoulders mockingly. “Either you're losing your charm or she's just a lot smarter than I am. Would've made everything so much easier if I'd left that first night, too, huh?” 

Dieter huffs, averting his gaze and rubbing the nape of his neck. Your eyes follow the motion of his ringed hand, now clearly seeing the fresh hickey adorning his neck. Mother. Fucker. What the actual fuck is wrong with this man? And what the hell is wrong with you for putting up with his shit for so long? Seriously.

You’re actually very well aware of what's wrong with you, but that doesn’t really help you. Never has, if you’re being honest with yourself.

The hurt inside you becomes unbearable. Your lips start to tremble and you bite back a sob. You’re surprised at the feeling of wet tears running down your hot cheeks. What’s happening with you? You never cry in front of other people - especially not Dieter.

He hates it. Seeing you cry hurts him more than anything you could ever say to him. Unable to see you like this, he starts pacing around the living room, feverishly running his hands through his hair.

“Don’t you dare look away,” you spit out, making him turn around with an exasperated sigh, lifting his gaze to meet yours slowly. He cringes at what he sees in your wet eyes. The harm he's done. The spark in your eyes he loves so much, gone. 

“You ripped my fucking heart out, Dieter,” you sob, tears streaming down your neck. You press both of your hands over your racing heart and claw at your shirt, nails digging into your flesh so hard it hurts.

Dieter reaches out to you, eyes wide, “Baby, I know I fucked up. I'm so-” “Fuck. You,” you shout at him, startling the both of you alike. You've never raised your voice at Dieter, no matter what bullshit he put you through. But you can’t take it anymore. Fuck always being the bigger person. Not like it ever got you anything. 

And did he really just try and say he's fucking sorry?

“You ripped my beating heart out with your bare hands, felt my bleeding flesh in your palms and now you seriously have the fucking audacity to tell me it didn’t mean anything? That you're sorry?” You laugh mirthlessly and wipe your wet cheeks. Dieter swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He has no response. 

Your head hurts and you feel weak despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Crying is exhausting. Having your heart stomped on is exhausting. Realizing the man you love will never be good for you is killing you. 

You sit down on the sofa, close your eyes and inhale deeply. Dieter approaches you slowly and sits down on the far end, turning his body towards you, but giving you space.

Eyes closed, head resting on the backrest, you press the heels of your palms onto your eyes. You can hear Dieter's breathing, can smell his cologne. A birthday present from you he's used every day since unwrapping it. You remember that day well.

After the extravagant party with all of Dieter's fake Hollywood friends was finally over, you two went skinny-dipping in his pool. You started splashing water at each other, laughing without a care in the world. At some point, Dieter caught you in his arms, pulling you towards him, hooking your feet behind his back. He looked so happy, his beautiful features illuminated by moonlight. He kissed you slowly, passionately, savoring the taste of your lips. “I love you, you know,”  he murmured, nudging your nose with his. “You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. Gonna do it right with you.” And you believed him. How foolish of you.

“It's easier for you like this, isn't it” you note quietly, turning your head to look at Dieter. “What do you mean?” His voice is raspy, brow furrowed in confusion. “Being the bad guy,” you scoff like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You've convinced yourself that you're a bad person who can never be good and that's why you act the way you do. Makes it easier. You can just point to your shitty behavior and tell yourself that's why people leave you.”

You furrow your brow and shake your head. “Don't you see? It’s you, Dieter. It’s always been you. It’s not the drugs, or the people you fuck, or the shit that happened in your childhood. You're the problem. It’s you.”

You huff and make for the door, in desperate need of fresh air and space.

“You think it's so fucking easy being me. Got it all figured out, huh?” Dieter's agitated voice yanks you back. “You have no fucking idea how it is. Everyone wants a piece of me and as soon as they got what they wanted - drugs, sex, fame - they fucking leave me.” He gets up and closes the distance between you two in a few strides. You don't back away. 

You’ve never needed to be close to him more than right now and it positively kills you that you can’t. You can’t wrap your hands around his waist, press your face into his chest, hold him tight until your heartbeats synchronize. You can’t. Not anymore.  

“You're the only good thing I got and I know I fucked up. I know I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you, but please,” he takes your hands in his, squeezing them gently, “please stay. I was high off my ass and I couldn't tell you her name or what she looked like if you asked me. Please let me fix this.” 

Dieter leans in, leaving barely any room between your bodies. You can feel his breath on your face, feel the heat radiating off his body. His big sad eyes are piercing your soul, pleading with you, desperately seeking to convince you. Nice try. You know this will happen again. Dieter Bravo won't change. Not for you, not for anyone.

You take a deep breath, maintaining eye contact. “I’m not leaving you because you fucked someone else in our bed last night, Dieter. I’m leaving you because you're so convinced you're bad that you won't even try to be better. Not even for me.” 

Hot tears are starting to make their way down your cheeks again. Dieter gives you a sad smile, gently cupping your face with his hands, wiping away the evidence of your sadness with his thumbs. “Please don't cry, baby,” he murmurs. His voice is strained, the corners of his mouth twitching.

You put your trembling hands around his wrists and slowly lower them from your face. “I'm done being just another person who got caught up in the whirlwind that is you and got lost on the way. I can't do it anymore.” 

Before Dieter can say something, you interrupt him by softly pressing your right hand to his chest. His heart is racing. “It felt like you killed me last night,” you deadpan and Dieter’s breath hitches, his eyes going even wider. “I'm so so-” “But you know what?” you look into his eyes intently and shrug, “I’m still here, so I guess I’m not dead.”

“I’ll go on without you,” you nod, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “I’m done, Dee. Finally done.” 

----------

You lean against the front door of Dieter’s mansion, chest heaving, trying to steady your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slowly. Over and over. The dull pain in your head gets worse and you suddenly have the overwhelming urge to throw up. You turn around to face the concrete wall and empty your stomach contents onto the ground, trying as much as you can to not get it on your clothes.

Your throat burns, tears are streaming down your face and the throbbing pain in your head is all-consuming. Your vision starts to get blurry and you can hear your blood rushing in your ears - louder and louder - until everything is quiet. Peaceful. 

----------

I’m sorry. I want you to be happy. 

Dieter’s note on the nightstand does nothing to you. Your heart feels numb. 

You see the glass of water and the Advil next to the note. You’re wearing a clean shirt, not the one you were crying and throwing up on a few hours ago. Dieter must have changed you into one of his. Your pants are neatly folded on a lounge chair standing in the corner. Light is flooding the bedroom you've woken up in every morning for the past year. Weird to think it's the last time today.

You sit up too fast and your head pounds violently, so you try and move as slowly and carefully as possible. The pill doesn’t go down easily. Your throat burns and even the tiny gulp of water you need to swallow it feels like someone’s dragging hot knives from your tongue all the way down to your bleeding heart.

Why do you keep doing this to yourself? You know Dieter, you know what to expect from him and you also know yourself. Still, you let yourself believe. Believe that you could be loved. Believe that someone could know you - really know you - and still love you. But it’s always the same. To know you is to love you less.

It’s your fault. Dieter showed you who he was from the beginning and you still let yourself fall for him. You knew better than to open up your bruised heart to him and yet, you did. That was your decision, not his. And the most fucked up thing? You’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Loving Dieter hurt. Badly. But for a brief moment in your life, he showed you that you were capable of loving someone and being loved.

You know he was telling the truth about that. He did love you. Maybe still does. It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ve had your taste of pure happiness and that’s more than most people will ever experience in their life. It’s okay. It was always going to end this way. 

----------

Three months later

It’s hot outside. Too hot. So you usually just stay inside your new apartment after you come home from work. Shutters closed, AC blasting until the sun goes down and you can finally open the windows to let the cool night air inside. 

You’re on your balcony, finishing up your nightly bottle of white wine. You can smell the summer night, hear the hum of cars driving by, people eating and laughing, crickets chirping peacefully. When you close your eyes, you feel a comfortable buzz. This is okay. You’re still here, haven’t jumped off your balcony or slit your wrists. Too final, you think.

You don’t actually want to die, you just want to be as numb as possible. Numb the pain that is simply too unbearable to face fully present. So you drink and you pop Xanax bars and you either don’t eat or stuff yourself so full you throw it all back up.

And you fuck Ben from work.

Turns out he'd had his eyes on you for some time before you went into his office with the goal to get bent over his desk.

Swaying your hips, batting your eyelashes, tracing his arms and shoulders with your fingertips, purring into his ear how you need him to take care of you did the trick. Two minutes after entering the office, Ben was already balls deep inside you. He made you cum on his cock, spilled his seed on your ass and drove you home after. You fucked him again in the parking lot of your apartment complex, riding him until you both were a sticky mess. He didn't ask if he could come upstairs and you didn't offer. “What did I do to deserve you, hm?” he asked when you were both laying in his bed a few days later. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. He was beaming at you with undisguised admiration. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips and buried your face in his neck. Ben was kind and attentive and handsome - he was everything you could wish for. What a sane person would wish for, anyway. But that wasn't you. And he wasn't Dieter.

You're alone tonight, sitting on your sofa, a glass of wine in your hand. You stare at your phone, index finger hovering over the Instagram icon. You shouldn't be doing this. Really shouldn't. 'Cause every time you do it, you end up crying yourself to sleep despite the alcohol and pills.

Fuck it. You open the app and are greeted with Dieter's face laughing into the camera. He's not alone, as usual. A pretty girl is hugging him and pressing her plump lips to his left cheek. You want to vomit.

He stopped texting and calling you a few weeks ago. Probably got tired of you never replying, you assume. And it's not like there aren't thousands of women out there just waiting to take your place by his side and in his bed. Why would he waste his time on a woman who broke up with him?

You're sure that Ms What's-her-face from his Instagram doesn't nag him about doing too much coke or fucking other women or meeting her parents or starting a fam- You throw your phone across the room and start sobbing violently. Three shots of Whiskey and too many Xanax bars later, you pass out on the sofa.

You stop stalking Dieter's Instagram after that night. You need to get your shit together before you do (even more) irreparable harm to your body and psyche. No more social media, no more alcohol, no more pills, no more Ben. He doesn't make a scene, letting you know that he'd like to stay friends. You know you don't deserve his kindness.

A few quiet weeks go by and you start to feel a bit better, now that you're not treating yourself like complete garbage. You eat well, take walks when the weather's nice and you've started dating a guy you met in the small coffeeshop near your apartment. Life is fine at the moment. You're fine.

----------

Loud knocking on your front door rips you out of deep sleep. You open your eyes in confusion and check your phone. It's 2:26 am. Probably someone coming home drunk and knocking on the wrong door. You wrap yourself in your blanket tightly and close your eyes again.

Another loud knock, now accompanied by a voice saying your name. You grunt and reluctantly get up, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. You look through the peephole and your heart skips a beat.

“I'm sorry for waking you, babe. Thanks for letting me in, I-” Dieter looks down at his feet, fidgeting with his rings, “I didn't know where else to go.” You hand him a cup of chamomile tea, sitting down beside him on the sofa. “It's okay,” you nod, looking at his face intently. He's wearing his signature sunglasses. You assume it's because he wants to hide the evidence of his excessive drug use.

You both sit in silence for a few minutes before he lifts his head to look at you. He puts his right hand on the cushion between you two, wordlessly communicating his need for your touch. You gently place your left hand over his and move to intertwine your fingers. Dieter's breathing becomes heavier.

“What happened, Dee?” you ask quietly. When he doesn't answer, you move your right hand towards his sunglasses, watching carefully for any signs that he wants you to stop. You take the glasses off slowly and gasp when you see what he was hiding. It wasn't dilated pupils, it was a massive black eye.

You trace the swollen skin under his left eye with your thumb, causing him to wince. “I guess her husband found out?“ you ask with a wry smile, trying to lighten the mood. Dieter chuckles, shaking his head. “I'm sorry,” he says, lifting his gaze to meet yours. You shrug your shoulders, “I already said it's okay you came he-” “That's not what I mean,” he interjects. “I'm sorry for everything, for hurting you. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness and you're better off without me, but I want you to know that I really am sorry.”

And just like that, the heart you've worked so hard on fixing over the past few months breaks all over again.

Tears are silently falling from your cheeks as you lie down on your bed. You're on your side, eyes closed, tears pooling on the pillow when you feel the mattress sink under Dieter's weight. He's removed his jacket and pants, now lying on his side, mirroring you, in his boxers and shirt.

He caresses your cheek and murmurs, “C'mere”. You lay your head on his chest, your right hand resting above his heart. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, kissing the top of your head.

“I do love you, you know,” he murmurs.

“I know.”

[izzysillyhandsy]

I sometimes wonder if the Izzy hate would have reached those dizzying heights if S1 had ended on episode 9.

Izzy would still have done almost all the bad things: making Ed unhappy, duelling Stede and wanting him gone, the deal with the English, his past with Ed/Blackbeard - except for hurting and threatening Ed after the breakup.

And even though all of this can be seen from different angles, it is possible to interpret it from the most damning perspective - and that should be enough to hate him, right?

But Ed wouldn't have turned into the Kraken, he wouldn't have killed Lucius, marooned half of the crew and cut off Izzy's toe.

And I am almost 100% sure that most of the Izzy hate comes from seeing Ed's drastic change in episode 10. Without it, sure, some people might have found Izzy unsympathetic or just unimportant, or a little shit. But that level of hate?

I guess what I'm saying is that a lot of the Izzy hate comes from "what Izzy made Ed do" and not from "what Izzy did to Ed".

Also, it is a way of dealing with the shock/cognitive dissonance of seeing a very beloved character turn "evil" after 9 episodes of being a gentle and misunderstood guy who is a pirate, yes, but who's fundamentally non-violent and good. How can you reconcile this with Ed suddenly killing a beloved (and completely innocent) character? And the extreme violence of the toe-cutting? (And yes, I know Ed burned people alive before, pirate-typical violence etc. But we didn't know these people and we didn't see them in close-up.)

But to blame Izzy for everything and to make him this evil part of Blackbeard - completely separate of "true Ed" of course - lets Ed still be the same gentle soul that loves a fine fabric, fell in love with Stede in the sweetest way and, although traumatized by his childhood, is at his core an innocent person that can be saved by removing the rotten influence of Izzy Hands - without confronting the self-hatred, self-centeredness, mistrust of others and tendency to violence that might be a part of "true Ed" as well.

And of course, if a group of fans started liking Izzy and maybe even defended/found understanding for his actions to a degree - where would that leave Ed? Is it really justifiable to fly into a murderous rage because your heart was broken (by a man you've known for a few weeks), because you're deeply unhappy and you've outgrown your pirate persona?

If Ed wasn't mentally abused by Izzy for decades, if it wasn't Izzy alone that drove Stede away, if Izzy hadn't duelled Stede out of the evilness of his heart, if Ed didn't desperately want to leave but Izzy forced him to stay in their toxic relationship, if it wasn't just Izzy and his hurtful words that drove Ed to become the Kraken...

...then maybe Ed wouldn't be an innocent babygirl anymore, and it would be much more difficult to see Ed/Stede as this perfect, unproblematic and sunshine-y couple.

It seems to me that seeing Izzy as "The Worst" and casting him in the role of the villain behind every bad thing Ed ever did is a quick and painless way to make Ed loveable without actually putting the work in (and the show actually avoided that up unto the death scene - one example is Izzy leaving in S1E4 and Ed manipulating him to stay; there are countless others).

I sometimes have the feeling that the hate for Izzy grows exponentially with more and more of Ed's darker side coming through in the show. And I don't get it - maybe because I am drawn to darker, fucked up characters and relationships. Give Ed his agency back and let him be cruel! Let Ed and Izzy have their mutually destructive, weird but intense dynamic!

Let Ed be a fascinating, loveable character with a (very) dark side - exactly like his partner for decades, Izzy - and you'll actually get a better character, and an additional fascinating relationship - as well as a more interesting story.

[moirindeclermont]

Daily thread about BridgertonS3. We are almost there people, only 7 days left, we can do it!

Oh boy, today is going to be almost controversial I'd say. So, let's talk about what makes Colin different than all the previous male leads.

Spoilers, it's emotionally availability.

Comparing Simon and Anthony to Colin allows us to really see the difference. I love them both dearly, especially Anthony (and his first daughter syndrome, me 🤝 Anthony), but Colin has consistently demostrate througout the serie that he is different (not better or worse, just different).

He is not perfect by any means, don't get me wrong. He does make mistakes, but once he realizes that, he owns them. Apologize. And most importantly, he tried to do better.

He realized he loved pen at the end of episode 2, pass one (1) episode and a half pining and, as soon he realizes he has to do something, he does. Propriety being damn! And he doesn't stop there, because he proclaim his feelings only after confirmation that Pen is not elsewhere engaged, and he was ready to back away when it seems Pen was going to reject him, and he asked and waited for a visual sign of consent before showing her what she was missing, so to speak.

So, when I read posts saying he is boring, I get what they are saying. If you're not used to emotional availability, I guess it might comes out as boring (I'm sure it's not the only reason, but it's one of the reason for sure).

But this is the exact reason why we need many more male lead like Colin, because this is the type of positive masculinity we need so desperately. We need male leads that make mistakes, own them and act on their feelings in a open communication with their s.o.

Moreover, everyone has toxic behaviors, but the difference that exist between healthy and toxic people it's all in the acknowledge and the growth you do when you realize your behavior is hurting someone or yourself.

So, thank you Bridgerton (from Julia Quinn to the entire production team of the show, from Luke to us viewers) for creating a male lead that give us a different way of doing stuff. A more compassionate, healthy and resilient way of being in a relationship. Thank you!

[wouriqueen]

Toxic friendship my beloved. I can't wait for Taeho and Inha's relationship to go off the rails. I mean we've got this perfect set-up.

(My 2 cents no one asked for about why their weird friendship WILL go wrong - and not just because of Hyewon - under the cut).

Taeho's tricky promise

Taeho promised to give Inha "everything he wants" as long as Inha lets Taeho use him as a golden rope to reach the "major leagues". Taeho then said, "We just have to decide what we want to do", and I guess they decided they wanted to make Inha Kangoh group's CEO. But!

Is becoming CEO "everything Inha wants" ? What if there's something else ? Will he expect Taeho to give him that too ?

Matter of fact, what if that promise is the reason Inha went for Hyewon without holding back even though he knew Taeho liked her? Maybe he wanted her - or decided he did... - and felt it was his right to go for it because of that promise?

Why does Inha seem okay with not having a clear idea of what Taeho is getting out of doing all that for him? Oh wait, he isn't! Cue the next point.

Han "I only exist for you" Taeho

Why would Taeho even say that LOL. I mean don't get me wrong, him telling Inha something so intense had my imagination juices flowing, but. It's obviously not true. Taeho didn't enter this deal out of affection for Inha. He himself called it an "economic proposition".

The only reason he'd answer that to Inha's question - "what do you desperately want" - would be to conceal the truth. Which is? The easy answer is Hyewon, and I'm sure that's part of it, though it's unclear how much Taeho's feelings for her have changed or not after 10 years. But would it really be it? I don't think so. If the only thing Taeho wanted was Hyewon, he'd have opened that door back when she tried to pick him 10 years prior - but he didn't.

Inha's anger

In episode 3/4, Inha seems angry at Taeho (re: when they think their plan might fail, and then the beach). And I wondered why that was, but it's obvious.

Taeho's cockiness

Inha's probably pissed about how cocky Taeho has been acting, and even more pissed about the fact that he can't shut him down because Taeho is, in fact, good at what he does.

Does Inha have an inferiority complex ?

Think about how their relationship started - Inha feeling judged and embarrassed while Taeho dished out life lessons, Inha asking for friendship then getting rejected only to be presented with an "economic proposition".

And the dynamic never changed, Inha constantly receiving things from Taeho. No matter how strong the affection was, Inha having a chef cook a meal for Taeho's birthday with money he didn't earn or Inha giving Taeho rides is nothing compared to Taeho getting him into a great uni and getting him closer to his dad/the CEO position, laying out a whole plan Inha just has to follow. Or at least he wouldn't see those as equivalent (and I doubt Taeho would, either).

Is Inha jealous of Taeho's place in his father's life ?

Inha clearly hoped his father would want him - remember his disappointment when he was made to leave his father's house before dinner that one time. He was even more hurt when Taeho explained his father must have called him to the house just to bother his wife. And hurt AGAIN when he found out it wasn't even his dad's idea, but his sister.

Yet he doesn't get to properly meet his father face to face until episode 4, while his more competent friend has been the chairman's right hand man for 5 years. That's gotta sting.

Inha isn't dumb

Highschool Inha knew nothing so he probably thought the terms of his deal with Taeho made sense.

Yet as they grew up, Inha must have realized at some point that something was off. That Taeho is clearly brilliant and savvy enough to get a great job in any big company and become a key player. That he hasn't needed Inha to get him into Kangoh or anywhere else. Taeho has yet to use Inha as a rope, which means he has yet to collect his payment.

Except Inha doesn't know what Taeho wants! He knows he said he wanted to "play in the major leagues", but that's so vague it barely means anything. He knows he may still want Hyewon, but Taeho can't have her AND honor his deal with Inha. Clearly so far, he's picking Inha.

So what does he want? And most importantly - why can't he tell Inha about it?

Of course we know it probably has to do with Taeho's parents and why he can't share that secret. But if I was Inha, I'd feel nervous, suspicious and powerless. Of course he's angry.

And then there's Hyweon. Gosh I can't wait. It probably won't be like I want it to be but I hope it's intense.

[thrandilf]

Oof, yeah. People in fandom spaces really love making every parent abusive, and the way they so desperately want to pretend that it‘s canon is exhausting.

I‘m baffled every time I see it. Parent barely raises their voice, and doesn’t immediately whisper an apology?

ABUSE

Parent puts their foot down in any situation where they are at odds with their kid?

ABUSE

Parent grieves a little too hard for a little too long, and isn’t present at 100% capacity?

ABUSE

And it always feels like surface level teen angst that is blown way out of proportion. It‘s especially telling when you notice the pattern of 'the child has never done anything wrong, ever, in their life.' Because at that point the projecting, and not wanting to take responsibility for their own actions becomes painfully obvious. Because blaming the parents is easier than accepting a characters flaws.

(unless these flaws are; 'cares too much' or 'being insecure'. Because those are cutesy enough I guess 🙄)

AND THEN there is the fact that, putting actual mythology aside, Nezha and Red Son are treated as LITERAL ADULTS IN THE SHOW.

*incomprehensible screaming*

Sorry for the vent, I got a little heated. But I‘m so fucking glad there’s at least some people in the fandom who agree that the bastardizing of characters is getting way out of hand.

I'm right here with you anon I've also been a bit heated but YEAH

No what kills me about LMK is how the parents in question may be a bit gruff/rough around the edges, DBK is someone who's generally like that regardless of who he's talking to

But never does Red Son or Nezha even face consequences when they do screw up in their parent's eyes

Like abusive parents will have that undercurrent of Bad even when nothing's gone wrong but here even when THEY DO fuck up there's no consequences

And when they don't it isn't a Toxic Bad dynamic either

AND AS YOU SAY Red Son and Nezha are also both portrayed as adults in LMK and while they do want to make their parents proud and care about their opinion they are on much more of a peer level than someone would be if they were an actual kid/teen

Same with Mei because I've seen bad takes on her parents but in canon it's literally just "we don't see eye to eye/we have our own familial/cultural expectations which you don't share but we love you and are proud of you and we don't care that our entire house is wrecked and that you took the sword we're glad you have it" like HELLO? But people will act like she should cut them off or they're bad parents

Like Mei and Nezha's parents both overtly say they're proud in the limited screentime they have while caring about their children who they naturally have differences with but that's It.

And Red Son's parents are down to just do whatever he wants I guess re food truck family business and it's just. oh yeah I'm sure they don't value his opinion huh like sure DBK likes cooking but this was clearly Red Son's idea.

[sharuruwrites]

Cupid

I gave a second chance to Cupid

But now, I'm left here feeling stupid

Oh, the way he makes me feel

That love is not real

Cupid is so dumb

- Cupid by Fifty Fifty

Tags: Fem!Reader, Fluff, Gojo Satoru playing Wingman for Reader, curses and techniques doesn't exist, slice of life, yearning?, Gojo is a brat and asshole, Reader is hopeless romantic, reader is named You, Unedited

N/a: Just thought of this one shot while I was listening to this song, and went "Hmmm...let me add the reason why the Cupid is a dumb b-tch with Gojo's yearning in this shit."

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

PLAYER 1 WINS

The bright red text flashed brightly on the tv as the fighter posed victoriously.

Strange. The lack of competitive yet toxic spirit in You raised concerns from Gojo.

"Something the matter?" Gojo put down his controller beside him. "You're not normally this quiet."

"Satoru," You glanced at him. "Do you hate me?"

No, and if he did, he would rather be dead than live the rest of his life hating her.

"Perhaps, to tease you." Gojo smirked. "But, for your sanity sake, I will say no."

"Then why are you setting me up with shitty dates from the start?!"

You ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated.

"The latest is by far the worst I've gone through! How did you get the idea that I'll enjoy dating a man who's not only a pest, but also has views that are so outdated? He straight up told me that a woman should walk three steps behind him while we're just walking in the park!"

Honestly? It's a genuine mistake on Gojo's part. Desperation times called for desperate measures. However, the failure of You's past dates were part of his intricate plan. His best friends, Suguru and Shoko, called his plan dumb and manipulative, but haters gonna hate. Cringed as it sounded.

The plan that he was so proud of? That he had to play the inverse role of Cupid?

Simple. To make You fall for him.

At first, he mistaken those budding feelings of his similar to familial, given they were close since kindergarten. Yet, he knew it slowly bloomed when You's absence grew his heart fonder as they attended different universities, and found himself looking forward to her said visits. He missed everything about her down to the sound of his name from her voice.

 Growing up robbed the only constant in his life – You.

Throughout the years, his friend became a thorough hopeless romantic thanks to the fairy tales she read. She wasn't particularly this aggressive to find love until now. If he were to warrant a guess, perhaps due to peer pressure. Despite the horrendous dates he sent her through, she still held onto the hope of finding her one true love. As the supportive friend and future husband to be, he volunteered to be her matchmaker.

Once she's somewhat defeated by the woes of finding love, he would swoop in and have her fall for him instantly. That's what happened to his parents. Both gave up on dating before they met each other. It worked since they still maintained the blissful matrimony.

"Sorry about that one," Gojo scratched his head. "I just overheard him saying that he needs to go out more."

"I kicked his shin before leaving. So, we're good." You said nonchalantly. "At this rate, I'm going to just ask Suguru. He's a gentleman, don't you think?"

"What makes you think he'll go out with you?" Alarmed, Gojo asked too quickly for his taste.

"Shoko told me once while I was drinking with her." She answered. "Apparently, Suguru is interested in dating me, but he doesn't want to risk his friendship with you or something like that."

That damn alcoholic. He thought Shoko's tolerance to alcohol was higher than Nanami's. How much did You drink to out drink Shoko to the point of loosening her lips?

"No" Gojo crossed his arms. "And, he's busy with his thesis right now."

"How quick of you to shot me down, unless..."

You snapped her fingers.

"Do you like him? I'm not surprised given the ongoing bromance since high school between-"

"I love you, not him." Gojo blurted, interrupting his friend.

You's grip on Gojo's spare controller loosened until it dropped on her lap. Her eyes widened in surprise and mouth gaped open. Confused, Gojo stared at the sudden reaction of his friend. Realization struck him hard like a bullet train upon hearing her next words.

"You love me?" She slowly repeated his words.

WHAT

THE

FUCK

There goes his plans. It went up to flames because of his dumb mistake. At this point, any fucks he had were thrown all out of the window. Gojo confessed everything about his plan to her while Guilt gnawing on his conscience. Because of the said emotion, Fear and Shame joined together and formed intrusive thoughts in his head.

What if she didn't want to be friends with him anymore? What if she started hating him?

"I...don't know what to make of this..." You released a deep breath. "I...don't even know where to start. What happens to us now then?"

He didn't know. Was that the answer he truly wanted to say to You? Doubt and distress didn’t suit a woman like her. So, he would dispel it with a question of his own, and it's up to her in the end. Whether they remained friends or not, he respected her decision. 

Gojo took her hand with great care. It was a relief to him that she didn't pull away or flinch from his touch. Gently, his thumb caressed the back of her hand to soothe his nerves. A gesture she always did whenever he needed it.

"I know it's selfish of me to ask this, and I'll accept whatever your answer is but," Gojo frowned, his blue eyes full of sincerity and certainty. "Will you please give this stupid cupid of yours a chance? To give you the love you deserved?