#making me feel like //i'm// being difficult?????

[butchvamp]

okay i've played a bit more and i have a lot of thoughts about Taash and the way gender is being handled overall in this game...

first i will say the positives which is that i do really appreciate the attempt at incorporating trans characters both in the world as companions and allowing us to make those options in the cc. and as someone who also writes dark fantasy stories with trans characters i do understand how difficult it can be to incorporate these identities into a world that doesn't necessarily have the same language as we do; but overall the way they've approached this feels very... i've seen some people call it unpolished but i actually feel the opposite. it's almost clinical (therapy-speak in general has been a main criticism of this game) and it's way too polished, in my opinion, which is what makes it so jarring to see.

there has been a trans character established in game previously, there is already a precedent for these identities to exist in this world, and they have never used this language before. the way Iron Bull talked about Krem felt far more realistic and integrated into the world of Thedas comparatively. was it perfect? no, of course not, but i chafe at the idea that it needs to be perfect, anyways. this is another problem the game has; past characters have had their flaws completely ironed out (Isabela is now a paragon of friendship and returns cultural artifacts instead of looting them, Dorian has multiple codex entries wallowing about how he used to defend slavery, the Crows have suddenly become a big found family-- on and on and on) and while i have my criticisms of some of these flaws (Dorian's pro-slavery rant in inqusition still makes my eyes roll) i dislike the way they're handling these changes and just expecting us to ignore all of the lore and worldbuilding from previous games. and all of this "political correctness" only for the game to still be so racist.

which brings me back to Taash.... Taash is very strange character, lacking agency around both their gender and their culture. they are simply a mouthpiece for the writer. while yes, it should always be made undeniable that your character is trans or gay or xyz, Taash really does only exist to be nonbinary. and to be clear, a nonbinary character like them could be very interesting, if their writing wasnt so... white. we know that the Qun has different ideas about gender than Rivain (and elsewhere) and this could have been a very interesting exploration of that; however, it is obvious that the Qun (and Taash's mother) are meant to be depicted negatively, and ultimately it ends with the player (not Taash) choosing between their two cultures. their gender is clearly far more important to the writer and the only facet of their identity they seemed willing to explore, which makes me question why even make this character qunari to begin with...

Neve and Rook are also the two that spur Taash into exploring their gender. this, on the surface, is not a problem for me. i'm playing as a trans Rook and while the dialogue was again very overpolished and clunky i found it kind of endearing. but the way Neve is used as this "foil" for Taash really rubbed me the wrong way. this assumption that Neve has no complicated feelings about her gender or being a woman (which i highly doubt considering the world she lives in & how misogynistic it is) and the implication from Taash that she only dresses the way she does for her mother/other people (which Neve doesn't even get to challenge) is extremely narrow-minded. Taash is the Only character that acknowledges gender; so far, even when flirting with other characters, it's only been Taash that i've been allowed to specify with that my rook is trans, despite Taash already knowing that from our previous conversation (i hope that this changes once i lock in with a specific character so feel free to correct me if it does).

but no one else really seems to have an opinion except that Neve drags Taash around to meet Maevaris, and we get the very goofy note that's just a list of modern gender identities and their definitions. i do partly sympathize with the writers here; again i've had to find a way to incorporate lgbt identities in my own writing and it can be difficult depending on your audience. i understand wanting to be very clear and concise. but this is... just goofy. and this desperation to be so correct around gender while simultaneously writing such an offensively racist narrative is really frustrating.

there's also an inconsistency that comes from this with Taash's character-- they are portrayed as this rough but awkward character that is bossed around by their mother, they are bashful with flirting early on and are almost child-like in comparison to the other characters. and then suddenly you get a scene with them where they very directly ask if you want to have sex and suddenly pin you against the wall. this scene was so jarring to me i referred to it as a jumpscare because WHERE has this character been this entire time? i want to see more of this, more of this character who takes what they want and knows exactly who they are (which they even say multiple times when you first meet them... but then need Neve and Rook to hold their hand about it?)

i do really like Taash, i like the idea of them, of this very self-assured and almost cocky character who is also a little silly, this person who is so sure of who they are but has to deal with their mother undermining them while also navigating a culture they feel disconnected from, and i also like that the player can help them through it... but the execution is awful, shallow, and racist. the idea that someone can only choose One culture is so offensive and also a laughable conclusion when compared to their coming out as nonbinary. the writer clearly understands that people don't exist within these little boxes when it comes to gender, but can't wrap their head around it when it comes to someone's culture-- which is also a very important part of a person's identity and often contributes directly to their gender and how they feel about it. all of these different characters have different experiences, come from different places, Davrin and Bellara are Dalish and even have differing opinions on what that means for themselves, but the game doesn't touch on any of it. all we get is a lecture from the writer that is completely removed from the world it's presented in.

i wish i could understand what it was this character was meant to convey. i stand by saying that it doesn't need to be perfect; i know there are people that had problems with Krem in inquisition, but at least Krem was his own person. Taash doesn't even get that here... i harp a lot about character agency when i give writing advice on my other blog but it really is so so so important for marginalized characters-- both gay, trans, and especially characters of color-- to have their own agency around their identities that is completely separate from the player & player choice, that allows them to exist as their own person within the world you've created, and i think Taash's character and story is an unfortunate example of exactly what not to do.

[ariestrxsh]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷content warning: smut, innocence corruption, praise, mommy kink, thigh riding, oral (m!receiving), glasses kink, loss of virginity, sub!virgin!matt, dom!reader, friends to lovers

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷summary: you and matt are best friends and share everything with one another - except for what you each sound like in bed - that is, until now.

this fic was requested/inspired by this ask 💋

never lose me

"I have a question," you told your best friend Matt over dinner, leaning in closer to him and peeking up at him before you took a big bite of your pasta. You'd invited him out to celebrate a promotion you'd gotten at work, and you also wanted to ask for boy advice.

"What's up?" He asked, tearing off a piece of garlic bread and popping it into his mouth. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses as he made eye contact with you. "When you're having sex with a girl, does it bother you when she's loud?" You giggled, kind of embarrassed to ask.

"Why would that bother me?" Matt asked, his blue eyes darting around while he thought about how to answer your questions without confessing to you that he was a virgin. "I don't know. It's just this new guy I've been casually seeing. He's like, really quiet in bed. Almost makes me feel weird for being as loud as I am," you admitted.

He nodded to let you know he was listening, but behind his glazed over stare, he was thoroughly imagining all the naughty words you'd say and all the ways you'd scream whilst in the throes of ecstasy.

"He doesn't say much. He doesn't moan very much. I can't tell if I'm not satisfying him or if he's just shy," you confided in him, smoothing out your crimson dress that hugged your curves so snugly. "Well, have you tried asking him?" Matt timidly responded, studying the way your pretty red lipstick looked.

"Well, kind of. I mean, when I'm giving him head or stroking it for him, I'll ask, 'Do you like that, baby?'" You said in a seductive tone. Matt found it difficult to look you in the eye as he felt blood rushing to his appendage below his waist at the tone of voice you used. He took his napkin and subtly placed it on his lap to hide his growing erection.

"Mhmm," Matt nodded, halfway reassuring you that he was listening and halfway answering the question you'd just asked. "And he'll say it just like that, 'mhmm,' but even the way you said it sounded more convincing than when he says it. I just feel like he's not into it."

You took a sip of your red wine, your third glass of the night, leaving a lipstick print behind on the glassware. "Well, he's probably just nervous. I can't imagine he wouldn't like it when you.. do that stuff to him," Matt struggled to get out, twisting his ring like he always did when he was thinking about something.

"Are you shy in bed? I get the feeling you want to be loud, but you hold back," you lowered your volume, smirking at him. "That's none of your business!" He widened his eyes and smiled at you while he blushed. "See? You're already getting all shy on me," you laughed, taking another drink.

He nibbled on his lip and fiddled with his ring some more, and you noticed it had been a while since he touched his food. "Matty, are you okay? I didn't mean to get too personal with you or anything. I just get curious about what you're like in bed sometimes," you chuckled, reaching over and brushing your thumb against the back of Matt's hand.

Matt's gaze flickered up at yours and he raised his eyebrows in a surprised expression. "What!? You don't ever think about that kind of thing?" You replied, your cheeks turning pink. "I mean, of course I do," he laughed, hiding his face behind his hands.

"Why don't you satisfy my curiosity then and tell me how you sound?" You playfully flirted with him, slipping off your high heel and running your foot up Matt's pant leg, which turned Matt on even more. "Listen. I would have told you by now if I knew," Matt timidly replied, looking up at you for your reaction. "What do you mean?" You asked, gathering and twisting your noodles with your fork.

"I mean, I've never had sex," Matt said quietly, bracing for your reaction. He knew you weren't the type to tease him about it, but he was just so used to it by now that he was already prepared for it. You accidentally lost your grip on your fork and it fell against your plate with a loud clatter as you peered up at him once more.

"Never?" You asked with a bit of pity resounding in your voice. "Never," he innocently shook his head. "But surely you've done other stuff," you insinuated, picking your fork back up and picking at your food. "Nope," Matt softly answered, picking up his glass of water. "Why not, Matty? There's no way you haven't had any offers," you answered.

You knew Matt never talked about his sex life with you, but you always assumed it was just because he was being a gentleman and respecting the privacy of his sexual partners. It's not like Matt wasn't good-looking, and even though he was a bit dorky, you always found that endearing about him.

"I mean, girls are interested in me, and I can usually tell when they are, but all the girls who have ever been interested are so indirect, and all they do is drop hints like they want me to make the first move. I'm just not really into that. I want a woman who pursues me for once," Matt shrugged, adjusting his glasses again.

"So, you're saving your virginity for a dominatrix?" You raised an eyebrow at him, teasing him and giving him a sly smirk. You watched as Matt got all flustered and started running his fingers through his brown hair. "Well, I wouldn't word it like that. I just want a woman who's in charge and knows what she wants," Matt replied, blushing.

"Yeah? You want her to boss you around a little in bed, baby?" You cooed through your seductive smile. Matt rolled his eyes and let out a nervous giggle, but he neither confirmed nor denied your allegation.

You knew that your friendship with Matt was unconventional. You guys often did things together and talked about topics that most people would consider to be inappropriate for friends to engage in, but neither one of you minded how close you were. After all, you were just friends.

The waitress approached your table, offered you some boxes to take the rest of your food to go, and dropped off the check. Matt started to reach for his wallet, but you stopped him. "No, no, no. I invited you out, baby. I'll pay for your dinner," you grinned at him, reaching for your purse.

"Twisted my arm," Matt jokingly scoffed at you and acted like it was the biggest inconvenience to put his wallet back into his pocket, but he secretly loved that you always insisted on covering his bill. After you'd paid and left a generous tip, you went to get up from your chair.

"You ready, Matt?" You asked, standing up and grabbing your purse and your coat. "Uh, wait. You think we could sit here for a few more minutes?" Matt latched onto your arm, stopping you from leaving the table. There was an urgency in his voice.

"Yeah, of course. Why? What's up?" You tilted your head at him and softly caressed his face. "Please. You're gonna make it worse. Need just a few minutes. That's all," he said, batting your hand away. Your eyes traveled to the napkin placed over his lap, and you picked up on what the problem was.

"Oh, don't worry. We'll wait here until it goes away," you smirked at Matt, biting your lip. He blushed and let out a nervous laugh at how easily turned on he was, but you secretly loved it.

Once Matt's hard on had subsided, the two of you made your way back out into the parking lot, your red heels clicking against the pavement beneath you. You threw your arm around his shoulder, steadying yourself on him and towering over him. He reciprocated your gesture, hooking his arm around your waist.

"So, do you really think about what I sound like in bed?" He teased you, unable to let go of that tidbit of information you'd shared earlier. "Oh, from time to time," you snickered. You pulled your keys out of your bag and went to unlock your car, but Matt reached for them. "Hey, how about I drive? You've had a few drinks."

"Yeah, just a few," you rolled your eyes, holding your keys out of his reach. "Come on. I know that you're careful. But what if someone else causes an accident? Then you'd automatically be at fault because you had three glasses of wine tonight," Matt looked at you with his big, blue eyes.

He knew you were stubborn, but he always knew how to reason with you. "Fine," you smiled at him, handing him your keys and hopping into the passenger seat.

Matt started up your car, tilted the rearview mirror down, and moved the seat forward a bit to adjust to how much shorter he was than you. "It's so weird seeing you in the driver's seat. You're always my passenger princess," you teased him, connecting your phone to bluetooth and throwing on one of your playlists. He playfully side-eyed you as you serenaded him from the passenger seat.

When he pulled up to your house, he lowered the volume on your car speakers. "Hey, you mind if I crash here tonight? I kind of didn't think about the fact that I don't have a ride home unless I take your car," he innocently asked, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

"Of course you can stay here, Matt. You're always welcome to stay the night with me," you ran your thumb over the back of his hand again, a gesture you did often because you knew how much Matt valued physical touch. You stepped out of your car and grabbed your purse and your coat, slinging both over your shoulder. Matt, who still had your keys, unlocked your front door, letting the two of you inside.

You steadied yourself using Matt's shoulder as you stepped out of your heels, one foot at a time, still towering over the boy by a few inches. "You know, Matt. I don't think you should be self-conscious about being a virgin. I think it's really hot," you giggled into his ear, unable to stop thinking about how pure and innocent he was.

"Well, I was never insecure about it until people laughed at me when I told them," Matt responded, looking down and pushing up his glasses. "That's because other people are insecure and convinced that everything is a race. Don't worry about them," you drunkenly responded. "Thanks for saying that," Matt shrugged and gave you a smile.

"Come up to my room with me, Matty," you cooed, running your stiletto nails through his hair. He glanced up at you with a submissive expression and nodded, following you up the stairs. His gaze landed on your legs, and he silently appreciated every curve as you led him up to your bed in a calculated manner.

"I wanna shower before bed. Will you help me with my zipper?" You asked him once the two of you were standing in your master bedroom outside your bathroom. "Sure," Matt replied, feeling the tension in the air as you spun around, peeking over your shoulder.

He took the zipper between his two shaky fingers and slowly pulled it down, revealing your back to him. "Come hang out with me while I shower so I don't get bored?" You invited him in, batting your lashes in his direction. "Yeah," he replied in a soft tone.

You turned the dial on your tub and began running the water while you grabbed your makeup wipes and started washing the lipstick from your mouth. Matt sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, watching you remove the pigmented color from your face.

"Matty, I know you don't know what you sound like during sex, but indulge me for a second. How do you sound when you touch yourself?" You softly asked him, looking into his blue eyes. His cheeks started to turn bring red, and his face grew warm. "Um, I guess I'm not super loud, but I make some noise, and I definitely have to try to stay quiet," Matt disclosed to you.

"Yeah? I bet you whimper," you smirked at Matt. "Why are you thinking about that?" Matt wondered, teasing you and purposely ignoring your accusation. "Just a little curious. That's all," you seductively replied, still buzzing from the wine. "Well, just for the record, I think I would like it if a girl were loud in bed," Matt smirked at you. "Oh, really?" You asked, licking your lips. "Mhmm," he quietly answered you.

"No peeking," you ordered Matt as you started to slip out of your dress. He covered his eyes and shut them until you'd disappeared behind the shower curtain. "You can look now," you said to Matt as you tilted your head back, allowing the hot water to drench your hair.

He let his eyes adjust back to the bathroom lighting, and he watched as the steam in the air began to fill the space in front of him. He took off his glasses, wiping the condensation that was in the air from them before placing them back on his face.

"Thank you for driving me home and for being such good company," you thanked Matt from the other side of the curtain. "That's what friends are for," he responded, but the word friends started to lose its meaning and began to seem more like a strange sound than an actual term the longer it tumbled around in Matt's head.

"So this guy you've been seeing," Matt started off with a twinge of jealousy in his voice. "What about him?" You peeked your head out from behind the curtain with shampoo in your hair. "Do you think you'll end up dating him?" Matt asked, his eyes flickering up at you from his ring he was fidgeting with again.

"I don't know. I don't want to sound superficial, but the fact that he's so quiet during sex and doesn't give me any reassurance that I'm doing a good job is kind of a dealbreaker. It really kills the mood for me," you admitted, removing your detachable shower head and rinsing out your hair with it.

"What kinds of things would you want him to say?" Matt casually wondered out loud. "It's kind of embarrassing," you started to say, scrubbing your body. "You can tell me. I won't laugh," Matt assured you. "Well, I'd want him to moan really loud for me and not hold back," you started to say, letting your imagination take over.

"I'd want him to tell me how good I'm making him feel," you said, your hand dipping between your legs and softly running it along your folds while you pictured it was Matt under your control, saying this all to you.

"I'd want him to say something like, 'just like that mommy' when I'm doing something with my tongue that he really likes," you hissed through your teeth as you spread your lips open with two fingers, letting the warm water from the shower head hit your most sensitive place.

Matt quietly listened, his lips falling slightly open and his eyes subtly widening as he pictured you doing unspeakable things. His erection started to strain against his pants.

"And I'd want him to tell me when I'm about to make him cum," you said right before an obvious whimper escaped your lips as you kept the shower head pointed at your clit. Matt started to giggle. "Hey, you said you wouldn't laugh," you peeked out from behind the shower curtain, giving Matt a pouty face.

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing because I think it's funny or anything. I just laugh when I'm nervous," Matt replied, sighing and fidgeting with his hair. "Awh. Do I make you nervous, baby?" You cooed, and Matt blushed and nervously chuckled in response.

"Another reason he and I probably won't ever date is that he doesn't really like how close we are," you admitted to Matt. "You and me?" He asked, sounding surprised. "Mhmm," you hummed from the shower. "He knows we're just friends, right?" Matt asked, unfogging his glasses once more.

"Yeah, but he thinks something's going on between us," you replied, shutting off the water after you'd rinse all your bodywash off of you. Matt was caught off-guard by this, but the more he silently mulled over the dynamic the two of you shared, the more he realized how often the two of you toed of the line of being just friends and being more than friends.

"Well, he doesn't have anything to worry about. I'm a virgin," he laughed and shrugged, putting his glasses back on. He watched as you leaned out of the shower to grab your towel, exposing your breast to him while you held eye contact and smirked when you watched his gaze drop to your chest.

"I'm sure you'll lose your virginity before you know it," you responded, wrapping the towel around yourself and stepping out of the shower. "You think so?" Matt asked, chewing on his lip. "I know so. There's no way a cute little submissive thing like you isn't going to draw in the attention of a girl who's bold enough to make a move," you cooed, licking your lips as your eye caught a glimpse of his hard on. "I hope so," he whispered.

You sauntered off into your room, and Matt followed behind like a lost puppy dog. You dropped your towel and started changing in front of him, and in an attempt to be as respectful as possible, he turned his gaze away from you.

"I'm gonna go get set up in the guestroom, and I'll see you in the morning," Matt told you, getting ready to leave the room as you slipped into a pair of underwear and a tank top. "Oh, come on, Matty. Stay. What's the fun of a sleepover if we don't get to hang out all night until we fall asleep in the same bed like we always do?" You asked, pouting at him.

He slowly nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. "You don't mind if I sleep in just this, do you?" You wondered, presenting your pretty, black lace panties and black camisole. "I don't mind," Matt answered, staring at you in awe.

You dried off your hair and started brushing through it, and after a few more moments of silence, you brought up the original topic of discussion, the same one you and Matt had been dancing around and circling back to all night.

"Could I actually just show you how loud I am?" You shifted your eyes up at Matt as you caught your lip between your teeth. "Show me how loud you are?" He naively wondered. "How loud I can get during sex? I really feel self-conscious about it, and I need your opinion," you batted your lashes again. "Uh, sure. Why not?" Matt said, trying to keep his cool. "This is purely for science," you raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded.

He felt like he was in a dream, watching as you put each of your legs on either side of his knee. You lowered your weight down onto it until your clothed pussy was resting right on his thigh, the increase in pressure creating a wonderful sensation for you. He could feel your heat and the soft thump thump of your throbbing clit through your panties. You leaned in and locked your soft lips onto his.

It wasn't the first kiss you'd shared. You'd kissed each other a handful of times when you were younger, under the guise that you were just practicing, but this was definitely the most passionate one.

His whole body started buzzing as your tongue begged for entrance, swirling around in his mouth. He could taste the red wine on your breath. You let out a loud moan against Matt's lips as you started rocking back and forth on his leg.

He immediately felt the fabric of his jeans strain against his hard cock as he studied the way your lips fell open and your eyes fell shut once you'd pulled back from the kiss. "Oh, Matt," the words escaped your lips loudly as you picked up the pace. He loved hearing you say his name in such an intimate manner and seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Your hands made their way to Matt's chest, curling your fingers and latching onto the his jacket as you rode his thigh, and you slowly started to push the fabric off over his shoulders. Your involuntary sensual sounds filled the room, and you started grinding on his knee a little harder.

Matt held his breath as you reached for the bulge in his jeans and started palming it through the denim. "Oh," he quietly whimpered at your touch.

He could feel how wet you were getting, rhythmically rolling your hips forward as you humped his thigh. Your moans resounded, reaching their crescendo as you fell apart on Matt's knee. "That's it. Gonna cum," you cried out.

You held him in an embrace as you finished, falling limp against him and nearly screaming in his ear. He wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, your wet hair tickling his forearms and your chest pressing against his cheek as it rose and fell while you caught your breath. You were both blushing.

"Did you think I was too loud?" You quietly whispered just above his ear. "You were loud, but I liked it a lot," Matt said after a short pause. You let out a laugh. Matt's cock was aching. "Oops. Sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you climbed off his knee, revealing a wet spot you'd left behind on his jeans. "I don't mind," he replied quietly, staring up at you.

Maybe the two of you were too close, and maybe it was inappropriate to grind on your best friend's thigh, but why stop now? His breath hitched in his throat as you descended to a kneeling position in front of him. "Now it's your turn," you seductively relayed, your fingers crawling across his lap, making their way to his zipper.

"My turn? For what?" Matt naively asked, wide-eyed. "To show me how you sound in bed. Please, Matty. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight unless I know," you pouted at him, undoing the button on his jeans. "Wait. What if this complicates our friendship?" Matt wondered out loud. "Oh, come on, Matty. We're basically already dating. We do everything a couple would do except have sex. Maybe it'll actually make things less complicated," you smirked at him.

Deep down, he knew you might be right. "O-okay," Matt stammered, peering down at the way the teeth of his zipper came undone between your fingers. He went to take off his glasses, but you stopped him. "Matty, please. Keep them on," you requested, and he nodded.

You gave him a lustful and devious expression as you pulled his pants down just enough to access his throbbing dick. He lifted his hips as he looked into your hypnotic eyes. You reveled in the fact that you were going to be the first to make him make those sounds that were about to pour from his mouth. You reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock, mesmerized by the sight.

His tip was the same shade as his parted lips, and it was shiny with pre-cum already. You started to curl your fingers around its thickness and gently stroke it up and down. "Look at that," you gasped while you observed more clear liquid drool out of it, admiring how sensitive it was. Matt softly whimpered as it quivered in your hand.

You ran your palm up his shaft, grazing the head and spreading the fluid around, using it as lubricant while you pumped it back and forth. He let out a soft whine as you stimulated him. "Good boy," you praised him in a low, seductive tone.

He started gently bucking his hips up, driving his sensitive dick further into your hand while he let out a few stifled moans. "Don't hold back, baby," you cooed, picking up speed. "Mmm. It feels so good, mommy," he cried out, sending blood straight to your clit.

"That's it. Let me hear you," you responded, slowly closing the distance between his aggravated tip and your soothing lips, latching onto his most sensitive nerve endings. He gasped at the sensation. It was impossible for him to stay quiet.

Fervent noises filled the room while he watched as you made the head disappear behind your lips, then his shaft, and then you slid all the way down until your nose was pressed up against his lower tummy. "Yes, yes, yes," he whimpered, holding your wet hair out of your face.

You loved how responsive and interactive he was, doing everything you would have wanted a boy to do while giving him head. You bobbed your head up and down a few times, coaxing more pleasant sounds from Matt while he savored the soft, wet, warm feeling of your mouth.

You slid all the way down on his shaft again until the tip was in your throat, this time holding still while you hummed against his dick. "Please. Please keep going," Matt begged, trying to buck hip hips again, but you held them down, keeping him from being able to move. You were driving him crazy.

"Mommy, please move your mouth. I'll do anything," he implored, his voice cracking with desperation. You teased him, moving your head up and down but just slightly and at a painfully slow pace. "Faster, mommy," he begged you.

After a few more minutes of his pleading, you finally gave in, sloppily drooling all over his cock while you moved in a steady, calculated rhythm, stimulating every nerve ending on his rod while he inched closer to the finish line. "Feels so good. Gonna make such a mess for you, mommy," Matt desperately whined.

The words leaving his mouth suddenly had you aware of how empty you were feeling between your legs.

You moved back up his length with your mouth, but this time, when you reached the tip, you slipped it out of your mouth and smirked up at Matt. "Please. No. Why'd you stop?" He wondered, sounding distressed by the way his pleasure came to an end suddenly before he was done.

You stood up. "Be a good boy and wait," you responded lustfully, dropping your panties and pulling off your top. Matt fell silent as he admired your body, his eyes following every curve.

The shape of your body drew in his stare to your most intimate parts, the way your thighs came together in a v shape, practically directing his eyes towards your pussy. His eyes wandered up towards your breasts that he'd only ever seen for seconds at a time when you'd changed in front of him.

"Be a good boy and let mommy cum one more time, and then it'll be your turn. Got it?" You asked, slowly stepping towards him again. "Anything you want, mommy," he obediently nodded.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, taking his dick into your grip and guiding it towards your hole. "Oh my god," Matt gutturally moaned with his eyes rolling back as you slowly descended onto him, taking it inch by inch. He couldn't believe you were taking his virginity.

"Don't you dare cum yet," you smirked at him as you lowered all the way down and started bouncing on his cock. He nodded at you with his glazed over eyes and his jaw hanging open as you picked up speed, your tits bouncing in his face while he admired them.

You started rubbing your clit while you rode Matt, and more urgent whimpers poured from both of your lips. "How's it feel, Matty?" You cooed. "Best feeling ever," he moaned, peering into your eyes. "You're so big. You fill me up so good!" You exclaimed as his dick rutted into your g-spot. He swooned at your compliment, placing both his hands on your waist.

You rocked your hips forward, your pussy gliding up and down his length, and you felt your legs behind to shake. You could feel Matt's dick throbbing in your hole as he whimpered for you and looked up at you with his most desperate expression, which sent you past the point of no return.

Your pussy spasmed around his sensitive cock, and he could feel every contraction as you called out his name loudly over and over. You rubbed your clit in tighter, faster circles. He felt your whole body tighten while you shook and loudly squealed as you finished onto him, leaving behind the milky evidence of how much fun you'd had leaking down his shaft.

"Please," he begged, staring down at the mess you made on his cock and knowing he'd done that to you had him right on the edge of his climax. "Please what, baby?" You bit your lip, still riding him. "Please, mommy. Don't stop. Need a warm place to cum inside," he cried out.

"Of course, baby. Of course you can cum inside," you assured him, cradling his head and pushing your breasts into his face. Your rose-scented bodywash filled his senses. He peered up at you with his pretty blue eyes that were filled with lust and desire. His eyebrows were furrowed together in an expression of sheer pleasure.

Goosebumps arose all over his flesh as an orgasmic rush coursed through his body. He whimpered fervently against your chest, his cock twitching and draining inside of you. You loved watching him come undone underneath you. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick until he started hissing through his teeth about how sensitive it was.

You brought your movements to a stop, tilted Matt's chin up with your hand, and kissed him while he was still inside of you. He looked up at you wide-eyed and panting. "Wow, I never knew sex could be that intense," he innocently shook his head. "I made you feel good, didn't I?" You asked, nibbling on your lip. "So good," he replied, pushing up his glasses.

"That was so hot. I knew you'd be a whimperer."

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668

[coefore]

I just wanna ask bc I'm curious, but why did you find Starscream being older than Megatron in tfone interesting? :0

I just like the concept of Starscream being more experienced, especially in terms of leadership. Sentinel berates him once he has captured him, but he also says that it had been pretty difficult to find the high guard, which means Starscream had managed to carefully and competently hide, feed and direct many troops.

Dee (just writing it like this because I feel dumb just saying "D" in the middle of a sentence lol), on the other hand, rose to the occasion with sudden violence and improvised rhetoric. He was good with it! He got all the old guys (gender-neutral) to shout his name and make a public spectacle of their new loyalty! Good for you my little dude, but being skilled with your mouth and words doesn't mean you actually know what you're doing!

Dee is an isolated twenty-year-old runaway driven mainly by revenge and betrayal who has murderous intent towards +*+The System+*+, which he has no clue how to dismantle effectively without the most basic gut feeling aka "kill the leader" (= Kill Sentinel; Kill Optimus, who reiterates the Primacy, which is now tainted in his eyes).

That doesn't work. The system will still stand without The Leader TM. He also has no theory on how Said System works, differently from some iterations like IDW Megatron, nor does he have a solid mutual-aid net of friends/"colleagues"/fellow abused bots that would follow him like TFP Megatron has in characters like TFP Soundwave or Dreadwing.

He has no clue what the hell he is supposed to do, especially regarding how to command an army of people who are twice (or more) his age. But Starscream does. It is fascinating because, if done well, it could give Starscream an actual and rooted reason why he wants Megatron out: he is too naive, too emotional, too young to do this efficiently.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED Talk (Grammarly made fun of me with the 🤓 emoji because it feels like I've written a paragraph on a PhD thesis but that's what writing a PhD thesis does to you 😭).

[vivianblue]

Doesn't the existence of bell hooks along with her compassionate and phenomenal works literally disputes the whole idea that "The Left hates men" though?

bell hooks IS part of The Left, and correct me if I'm wrong but her central thesis in "The Will to Change" and "All About Love" isn't to point out how it's failure on leftists for not coddling men enough, but to point out how the patriarchy hurts men as well. The people who should read bell hooks are not mean leftists, but precisely MEN who feels they can and should deserve better than what this system of oppression has to offer them, and open up their perspective beyond the false dichotomy of "Accept Calvinism & Eternal Punitive Justice from The Oppressed" OR "Be The Oppressor & Enjoy Your Privileges (you earn this by being more Superior than other people)".

Men being drawn to the alt-right pipeline is not due to mean women and leftists. It's because like,... it's good to be a man under the patriarchy, because it benefits men at the expense of other people. This is just basic sociological analysis backed by historical facts that we should agree on. However, in some situations even by stating: "privileges exist and a lot are unearned/built on oppressing other groups", you would already be inviting a lot of hostility, because acknowledging this issue for a lot of people is Emotionally Challenging (and I'm saying that with no attached judgement).

We can examine a similar emotional response to see why this would be challenging - White Fragility. According to Ford, Green & Gross (2022), the psychological process underpinned it goes like this:

1. Generally, people want to be viewed as a Good Person.

2. Acknowledging systemic issues and how integral one's role as the "oppressor" in those issues can feel incongruent to the goal of wanting to be a Good Person (and might lead to guilt or shame).

3. This feeling can worsen when the person feels like they don't have the resources necessary to tackle a particular situation without coming off as a racist/sexist/transphobic/etc. (aka what many people would internalize as a Bad Person).

Many men could start out wanting to do good, but then find out that "doing good" requires more than just extending niceness on an individual basis. It's also about working on yourself and learning more about the world and other people's experiences and actively preventing harms, because anyone has the potential to do harm and the damage caused is in correlation to how much power you have over others. Everyone is capable of being racist/sexist/transphobic/etc. in a society where those actions are so normalized. Doesn't mean everyone is Inherently a Bad Person, but it does mean there are a LOT of choices to navigate and you will make mistakes, and people are going to be understandably cautious around you if you haven't worked on yourself enough since again - you can harm them. It is unjust to force people to love you, especially at the threat of you becoming a violent raging Nazi.

The dilemma of "Why should I help the people I've harmed when I get nothing but feeling of shame in return" are common human issues, and it's not entirely unique to cishet white men. The alt-right denies the questions entirely by saying that "No men, YOU have never done anything wrong. If anything it's those minorities and women who are harming you, and you're in the right for wanting to punish them back." Why takes responsibility when it turns out, you're the Good, Rational and Superior Guy all along?

The real answer is quite direct and Literally lies in bell hooks' writings, specifically "All About Love", and is only made difficult and obscure by the relentless effort to paint feminists and leftists as this homogeneous, hateful group who want to antagonize men. It's not about the unconditional love that women and The Left MUST have for men as a Reward for existing and being such a Good Boy. It's about the Love men should have for themselves and the world. Why must you do good by yourself, by women, by your fellow men, by your sons or daughters or neighbors or community? If you love someone, you want the best for them. The best for who and what you love would be for you do good actions and make good decisions that benefit everyone, and yourself. Love is not earned, it's something you do.

“The first act of violence that patriarchy demands of males is not violence toward women. Instead patriarchy demands of all males that they engage in acts of psychic self-mutilation, that they kill off the emotional parts of themselves. If an individual is not successful in emotionally crippling himself, he can count on patriarchal men to enact rituals of power that will assault his self-esteem.”

At the end of the day, women and leftists aren't the problem. It's the lack of resources re: point (3) and again, not due to leftists not providing them, but due to the patriarchy and people having an interest in not seeking them out or censoring them (e.g. the attack on critical race theory in uni).

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[thedailydescent]

🚨🚨I just got the latest news from Yahya:

Yahya (@yahyabkheet-blog) has given me permission to share his messages and pictures that he showed me:

[Text ID:] -What is happening right now? -I am displaced in [the Nuseirat refugee camp]. Tonight there was a very violent bombing near me. A residential block was bombed. My kids and I went out in a C situation. (under picture #1) -I'm really stuck, I don't know what I can do to protect my family. I search for food for my children all day. I have been displaced 11 times since the beginning of the war. I'm really tired. No one feels what we are experiencing. I want everyone in the world to stay by my side I'm not asking for a large amount like $100,000; I am asking for $30,000 so that I can evacuate my children, wife and mother to a safe place where they can live in peace. This is what I want as quickly as possible. There are people in Gaza for whom very large sums of money have been collected. Why doesn't anyone stand by me? Don't my children deserve to live in peace? 😭😭 (under picture #2) -This is my children's food for two days, water with flour and a little spice, to satisfy their hunger and enable them to sleep. [end of Text ID]

Yahya is currently going through hell. He cannot feed his family, his children are starving to death, they haven't been able to make much of any progress with their fundraiser, there is food scarcity in every marketplace, aid is not coming into in their area, and any attempts to make the location they are living in actually livable are thwarted when they are bombed and forced to move to a different location.

This is Yahya's eleventh time being displaced. He hasn't been able to feed his children anything apart from flour and water for two days!

Yahya has lately been telling me what his children have been eating. On good days, they are able to cook a chard plant for lunch. On bad days, it's a mixture of flour and water, or worse, nothing at all.

Fundraising has been made extremely difficult for Palestinians. Because there are no open banks in Gaza, withdrawals are made through commission, which can be up to 30%. So for every $100 Yahya withdraws from his fundraiser, commissions get $30 while he gets $70.

This is not even getting into how g*fundme constantly freezes Gazan's accounts at anytime, or makes transfers unnecessarily difficult.

This fundraiser is quite literally Yahya's lifeline. He cannot live without it, and cannot afford to go without donations. Please continue to help feeding this family.

This fundraiser has been vetted by @/nabulsi and is listed at #110 on the GazaVetters List.

(tagging for further reach- please message me for removal):

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@prisonhannibal @meshmellow @paper-mario-wiki @vague-humanoid @strangeauthor

@t4tvampireisms @mushroomjar @beesmygod @halalchampagnesocialist @timetravellingkitty

[guiltycorp]

Even though I loved the writing of LoL Jayvik I really appreciate that Arcane is going for a different approach so far, makes things feel less predictable! Instead of ideological differences driving the divide between them it is more so that they are just... out of sync so far?? I mean, during last season Viktor even before his diagnosis was eagerly meddling with the Hexcore with little regard to safety, then straight up went for the illicit and damaging drug to facilitate the transformation process, then when he ran out of that drug he proceeded to try using Hexcore without it (when he already TESTED that on plants and should have known it would backfire) which killed Sky... At which point he went oh shit, ok, I should stop meddling with this thing and just die peacefully maybe. It's not very clear how much of that he told Jayce aside from making him promise to destroy the Hexcore, but Jayce's surprised reaction in s2 when hearing about Sky makes me think it wasn't much at all...? So Jayce doesn't feel as much of an asshole for, once again, going against Viktor's explicit wishes. He pretty much never has the full picture before being forced to make a decision! Idk it makes him very sympathetic to me ngl, just feeling more and more guilt but continuing to fuck up due to lack of knowledge and experience, is that not relatable? And aside from being entirely unprepared for Viktor's death even after s1 I think it's like Jinx says in this Act too, it was something he could fix for once... Perhaps this is why he agrees to the use of Hextech weapons, too, feeling like it's the only thing he can do to 'help' the people he cares about and protect himself too (I guess killing just 1 defenseless child wasn't enough of a learning moment for him lmao). Despite again, this going very much against Viktor's wishes (and Mel's!! we didn't get her with Jayce after this but I imagine she's not very happy with him either... Viktor&Mel team up when). This time Jayce is the one just going for it and hoping for the best despite knowing very little of how it works. I also love how a lot of us in the fandom and also Singed in the series assumed Jayce would be appalled by Viktor's experiments but instead... he immediately goes even further :D And when Viktor wakes up and goes bye Jayce is like ?? but then by the end of the next episode he starts to realise that ohh alright so maybe yeah they should have stopped... Who'd have thunk. I'm not super up to date with League lore but is it really that difficult to find a sane mage for consultation purposes? ...Also I really doubt that hitting that thing (wild rune?) with his hextech-powered hammer was a good move lmao and yet even in this it seems similar to what Viktor is currently doing. Both continue to use the arcane to try and fix things, Jayce through violence and Viktor through transmutation, but it kind of seems like the same kind of mistake. (they are just pretty bad scientists and always have been and i love that for them lmao)

[bringthekaos]

I'm excited for your thoughts on the new season if/when you share them

It has legit taken me 3 days to come to terms with Act 1. Enough to be able to speak about it. Gunna apologize in advance for the wall of text, and I’m hiding it under a break for spoiler reasons. Also prefacing with these are all just my opinions. All are free to disagree with me and RB with discussions/theories etc. just don’t be a dick about it, I’m not engaging in any discourse.

Ok. So. I have mixed feelings, and I’m aware that this is because I don’t have the whole story yet. So this is all contingent on how the rest of the season plays out.

First and foremost, I’m… wildly swinging back and forth between love and disappointment for Viktor’s arc. So first the negative, and I’ll try to keep it brief because a lot of people have already expressed this and I don’t need to be beating that particular dead horse.

Viktor has had his agency, his bodily autonomy, his original ideas and nearly everything that made him Viktor stripped away. Nothing so far has been his choice. And while this could have worked just fine for an original character, he wasn’t. So there is a massive disconnect between what this character was/should have been. In League, it was all his choice (albeit with a healthy dose of mental illness thrown in, but still). AND it was very heavily suggested that many of the augmentations he performed weren’t as extensive as he lead everyone to believe (namely the controlling/dousing of his emotions). But it appears that whatever the Hexcore did to him, it’s real. He is clearly having a difficult time accessing his emotions, and if he can feel anything, it is limited to the point of him being completely stoic. And the thing with stoic characters is that you obliterate any emotional payoff for the audience. It’s very hard to make an audience feel an emotional connection to a character’s story arc when they themselves don’t feel anything (I have a theory about this though, but I’ll address it a little later in this post). And then there is the issue of Blitzcrank. Blitz was Viktor’s whole world, after his exile. How are they going to swing that? Like, I’m not even asking for Blitz to be in Arcane (that would be great, but I really don’t think they have time). But I stg if they take Blitz away from Viktor, make them someone else’s invention (my suspicion is Heimer or he finds the idea in Sky’s journal)… I’m sorry but no. This was Viktor’s idea, Viktor’s genius. I will genuinely be extremely upset if they take that from him too.

Then there is the whole situation with Sky. First, this girl was fridged. She was nothing but a plot device and continues to be just that. It feels hollow and forced, especially now that he’s hallucinating her as some sort of penance for what he did. (I have seen the prevalent theory that it’s the Hexcore using her image and his guilt to manipulate him, given that it “ate” her, and we have seen it “manipulate” him before when it punished him for trying to destroy it). But back to Sky—he barely acknowledged that poor girl. The reason for that can be argued, whether it’s because he’s gay or because he was just so wrapped up in his one-track minded research. But regardless, there just wasn’t enough setup between those two for this whole thing to have as much weight and meaning as I think it’s supposed to. Honestly to me (TO ME) it reeks of comphet. It feels like that random woman they threw at Poe Dameron to No Homo him. I’m not even asking for Jayvik canon. But the creators were well aware of this ship, after all it’s the second most popular ship in this show and it’s been around since 2012 when Jayce was literally created for Viktor. I’m asking for the bare minimum here—that it’s left open-ended as it was in League, open for interpretation.

Last negative I have is the whole Viktor Jesus thing. The first problem is I am pretty violently agnostic, and messiah narratives have never spoken to me. I don’t enjoy them, they feel weak. The whole “ordained by a higher power” thing is just… stale. Especially when this character originally had no higher power, he gave it to himself through his own hard work and ingenuity. Honestly, Viktor’s original arc is about as far from a Jesus allegory as you can possibly get. And I am absolutely terrified that they’re going to end said Jesus arc the way you’d expect—with him dying for it. Which leaves the moral of his story “disabled man should have just accepted that he was going to die despite the fact that it was the oppression and xenophobia of Piltover that left him out to dry, without proper health care, accessibility, equality, or equity that lead to his terminal diagnosis to begin with.” Which is a very oppressor-centric narrative and we do not need another one of those.

Sorry, I know I said I’d keep the negatives brief, and that was… not. My bad. But moving on!

I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, I did. I am working to embrace this new Viktor narrative and work it into my brain in a way that doesn’t ruin the ship for me. So without further ado, the positives.

Jayce.

Jayce.

Jayce.

I’d have to go back and time it, but it feels like he got more screen time in this first act than the entirety of the first season combined, and his character shined for it. It humanized him in ways season one never did. He’s caring, he’s devoted, and he loved Viktor! No matter what kind of love you think it is, it proves he loved Viktor without a doubt. He carried Viktor several city blocks to the lab to save him, and then YES, he broke his promise about the Hexcore because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him!

And he’s funny! (The scene where he picks up the regular sized hammer in the fight against Renni and made that “this is ironic” face?? And then basically the entire interaction with Ekko? The hand me a tome thing, and then when he basically pulled this when Ekko suggested “so this is all your fault cuz you pissed off the Arcane”:

GOD that shit was great. Jayce’s personality just shined, and maybe it’s too much to hope, but maybe this will douse a little of the hate. Because instead of being a subtle hint at all of those things being true about him, it’s now overt. And when people lack media literacy, the hints have to be overt.

And th-the. The h. The HUG SCENE. I don’t think I will ever emotionally recover from that scene. Starting with Viktor who, despite being clearly emotionally—I dunno, vacant I guess—sounded so lost and scared when he said “what am I?” For me, it was whispers of that scene from The Last Unicorn: “what have you done to me?” And my poor sweet Jayce, who clearly hasn’t left this damn lab except to go to Cassandra’s memorial. Sleeping on the desk and bleeding through his bandages because he doesn’t want to spend a moment away from Viktor while he “recovers.” And his euphoric response when he finds Viktor alive, when he realizes he hasn’t lost him. And I OWE HIM AN APOLOGY, goddamn. I said in a post that “Jayce will not understand.” I thought that was how Arcane was gunna start the divorce. But Jayce genuinely did not care, as long as his lover friend was alive. And just… Jayce being so affectionate through this entire scene. The hug obviously, but also blurting things he thought he’d never get to say to Viktor—“I’m resigning from the council, my place was always here in the lab with you.”

And… the hug itself. I know we’re all analyzing it frame by goddamn frame, but I see exactly what everyone else sees—there is a moment where Viktor very subtly smiles. But it’s gone in an instant, and it turns bittersweet. LOOK AT HIM.

There is something there, it’s just buried. Deep beneath the surface. It seems to say “I want this, I have wanted this for so long.” But then he realizes something, something I don’t think we’re meant to understand yet. Maybe that he doesn’t feel anything about it anymore, and he recognizes that this should upset him and it doesn’t. Or perhaps it’s something more along the lines of “it’s too late.” Whatever it is, I think this is the exact moment he knows he has to walk away. Because he knows he’ll cave to the affection, he said it himself. (Which is another thing entirely. His voice changes when he says that. Something in him is reacting to that word. Maybe he’s fighting against it, or maybe he’s fighting to get it back. But something made him almost growl that word.)

Which leads me to my final thought (for this post anyway, cuz it’s turning into a novel); Viktor is still in there. He can still feel things, I just think they’re extremely muted by whatever the Hexcore did/continues to do to him, or he has to fight to express them. Because he also smiled at the hallucination of Sky after he “cured” Huck. And if he feels nothing, he wouldn’t have been “joyous” at the thought of her being proud of him, approving of the good things he’s trying to do in her memory. He wouldn’t crave that validation, that vindication from her. So I’m hopeful that we start to see this shell crack a little, especially if those visions of Sky are the Hexcore manipulating him through guilt. It will start to erode him, no matter how stoic he has become. And literally the only thing I’m clinging to is that Jayce will see this and try to pull him out. “He’s still in there and I have to save him.” And that maybe it’ll start to work.

[frehyun]

In Sickness

hyunjin x gn!reader x changbin

warnings: none!

genre: sick fic, fluff

word count: 956

author's note: i'm sick as hell with the flu so this is pretty self-indulgent. i hope it's coherent because my brain is just as foggy, but i really wanted to write something while i can't work on other things that require a bit more brain power🥹 hope you enjoy, feel free to let me know what you think! 💗

masterlist

divider by @firefly-graphics

Being sick was the worst.

Your nose was clogged up, your throat felt weird, raw and scratchy, your voice came out weird every time you tried to talk and your head was pounding from all the sniffing, your brain a foggy mess, making it difficult to focus on the most mundane tasks.

Seeing as you couldn’t even finish one of the tasks you had set out to do for the day, you grew frustrated and groaned loudly, attracting one of your boyfriends who trudged through the apartment to your room to see what was wrong.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” – came Changbin’s voice from your doorframe as he leaned against it, a concerned frown gracing his face.

“I can’t even finish this thing that I wanted to finish writing. This sucks” – you pouted and made grabby hands at him.

Changbin sighed and took a few steps towards you before enveloping you into a tight hug, his big and strong arms feeling like a safe haven around you. Luckily, both of your boyfriends had already given in to physical contact with you, reasoning that if they were going to get sick, it was probably already too late anyways, so might as well not deprive you of cuddles in these trying times.

“How about you stop for today, I’ll make you a tea and tell Hyunjin to bring some snacks on his way home and we’ll just relax tonight and binge a series? Hm?”

You noticeably perked up at the suggestion, making Changbin slightly chuckle above you as he rubbed your back soothingly.

“Can I choose?”

“Hey, I’m in the minority anyways, you and Hyunjin always immediately agree when it comes to choosing what to watch” – he shrugged and scooped you out of your chair and up into his arms, easily carrying you to the living room where he placed you softly into the corner of your couch. He tucked you in before leaving to the kitchen, phone in hand to order Hyunjin around.

As he disappeared into the other room of your apartment, you sighed and sank further into the blankets and cushions surrounding you. You felt truly blessed to have not only one but two very attentive and sweet boyfriends. It quite honestly made you a little emotional, your already exhausted body wanting to tear up at the thought of two people you loved taking such sweet care of you.

You rubbed at your eyes before the tears threatening to spill over were able to escape down your cheeks and instead focused on browsing through the available shows for later.

Changbin came back in with two steaming mugs that he set on the coffee table in front of you, retreating quickly to get a third one that finds its home beside the other two. You giggled at his choice of mugs, each one being a specialised one that was specifically made with one of you in mind.

Changbin’s had a big Dwaekki on it doing deadlifts, surrounded by many, many hearts drawn by you and Hyunjin respectively.

Hyunjin’s had Jiniret drawing a beautiful bouquet of flowers, also surrounded by many hearts from you and Changbin

And yours had a cat on it, similar to Jiniret and Dwaekki, holding up a pen and paper and looking real smug about it. Of course, you also had your fair share of hearts drawn by both of your boyfriends surrounding the kitty.

The sight made you smile, seeing the mugs together like this. This time, however, you couldn’t catch your tears before they fell, alarming Changbin who was immediately at your sight.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

His hands hovered over your bundled up form, not wanting to accidentally cause any further pain. You felt kind of embarassed for bursting out into tears like this randomly, hastily shaking your head.

“No… Just overwhelmingly happy and touched, I guess?”

The visible confusion crossing over Changbin’s face wasn’t lost on you and you chuckled at the sight.

“I’m sick and you’re dropping everything to take care of me… Makes me feel so many things.”

At that, his gaze softened and he allowed himself to sit down next to you, caressing your thigh.

“Of course we would, you’ve done it countless times for us as well, angel.”

A short while later Hyunjin arrived at home with several bags hanging off his body.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just got a bunch of stuff!”

“That’s way too much.”

“You know I snack, they won’t go bad under my watch” – he grinned and plopped down on your other side, so he had one entire half of you for himself.

Not too long into the first episode of the drama you chose, Hyunjin clung to you like a koala as you leaned against Changbin’s shoulder, pressing his plush lips into your shoulder every now and then to reaffirm his presence beside you.

For the third time that day, you were close to crying. The warmth that spread throughout your body from being squished between your two boyfriends, one offering his strong and steady shoulder for you to rest your head on while the other acted like your personal weighted and heated blanket, made you want to cry.

Truly, what did you do to deserve the two of them?

Sniffing, you nuzzled further into Changbin’s shoulder and moved your body around, so Hyunjin could lie directly on top of you. You put your arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer into your embrace, breathing his calming scent in as you grew tired.

If this is what being sick looked like with Changbin and Hyunjin by your side, you think you could survive the foggy brain for a few more days.

[enzstr]

Only You || K. Bakugo

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

synopsis: starz26708 and Dino.tnt609, two students who first met in an online chatroom. A friendship had flourished between them. With the strong need to meet each other, 6aku.tnt609 slowly gains curiosity regarding the other's identity, which sparked the desire to meet her within him. What could possibly go wrong?

💭: btw, this is inspired from the Chad Michael Murray and Hilary Duff movie A Cinderella's Story!!

author's note: My deepest apologies it took me so long to upload the new chapter!!! I've been having finals and examinations but I'm free now!! New chapter might come out in a few days or a week since it's in my drafts now...

words: 3.7k

Chapter 2: The Two People

Reader's POV

The following day, I sat in my classes, feeling unusually unfocused. I found my thoughts continually returning to the message I had received the night before from my friend, Dino.tnt609. The words and emotions contained in that message had left a powerful and lingering effect on me, making it difficult for me to fully immerse myself in the subjects being taught.

“Please meet me at the school’s party. I’ll be waiting for you at 11:00 in the middle of the dance floor.” 

Those messages had set themselves so deeply into my thoughts that it was as if they were on a constant replay in my mind. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to rid myself of their presence. They continued to resurface, over and over again, like a stubborn memory that refused to be forgotten. The more I tried to dismiss them, the more their contents seemed to linger in my thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside or ignored.

“Y/n, what is the difference between speed and velocity?”

My heart dropped. I have been half-listening, my mind drifting, thinking about the message Dino sent to me—contemplating meeting him, and the school party. But now, I was completely caught off guard. Difference between speed and velocity—the words sounded fuzzy in my head, like fragments of a puzzle I wasn’t sure how to put together.

That was when she noticed him.

Bakugo.

He was sitting at the back of the class, leaning back in his chair, hands casually folded behind his head. He was grinning—the kind of grin that wasn’t friendly or supportive. It was the kind of grin that only came when you were sure someone else was about to fail. He’d been watching me for a while now, and I could feel his gaze boring into me. I knew exactly what he was thinking: She wasn’t paying attention. She doesn’t know the answer. This is my chance to look good in front of everyone.

The grin on Bakugo’s face widened ever so slightly, and I could almost hear his internal smirk. He had the confidence of someone who’d aced every test without breaking a sweat, someone who knew how to get under your skin with the smallest of gestures. And right now, his quiet, almost smug enjoyment was aimed directly at me.

My stomach twisted. It wasn’t that I cared about beating Dylan, exactly. But I did care about not looking foolish in front of the class—especially when he was clearly expecting me to fail. The challenge hung in the air, palpable, like an unspoken duel. I could almost hear him thinking, Come on, mess up. Please mess up.

The competitive spark in me flared to life, and in that moment, something shifted inside of me. I wasn’t going to let him get the last laugh. No way.

I straightened up in my chair, eyes narrowing just slightly, and forced myself to focus. I don’t need to know everything, I told myself. I just need to know enough to get this answer right.

My gaze locked back onto the board, and suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to make sense of the question. It was a simple logic question—something I could handle if I stopped panicking.

Mr. Aizawa was still looking at me expectantly, but now I had a plan. I took a steadying breath and spoke, my voice clearer than she felt.

“The difference between speed and velocity lies in their definitions, speed is a scalar quantity, meaning it only describes how fast an object is moving, without any reference to direction. For example, if a car is going 50 km/h, that's its speed.”

Her eyes flicked back to the board, confirming her answer. She could feel the weight of the moment—this was what it was all about. She hadn’t been paying attention before, but she was focused now, and she was going to finish strong.

“Velocity, on the other hand, is a vector quantity. This means it not only describes how fast an object is moving but also in which direction. For instance, if the car is traveling at 50 km/h to the east, its velocity is 50 km/h east. In essence, while speed only tells you the rate of motion, velocity provides both the rate and the direction of motion.”

Mr. Aizawa nodded approvingly. "Exactly, Y/n. Well done."

I felt a small surge of relief, but it wasn’t just the satisfaction of getting the answer right. It was the feeling of having turned the tables, of having taken control of the moment that had threatened to spiral out of my grasp. I glanced over at Bakugo, just as he was about to sit up straighter in his chair. His grin faltered when he saw the glint in my eyes.

And that was all the encouragement Bakugo needed.

I couldn’t help myself. A small, almost mischievous smile curved on my lips. It wasn’t an innocent, pleased-with-herself smile—it was the kind of grin you wore when you knew you’d just pulled something off, when you’d just made someone else realize they’d misjudged you.

Bakugo’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly, the smugness faltering for the briefest of moments. He’d thought I’d fumble. He’d thought I wouldn’t know the answer. But I had shown him, and not only had I known the answer—I said it with confidence, without hesitation.

He looked away first, clearly frustrated, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened. I knew that look. He didn’t like losing, even if it was just a small moment, a little victory that nobody else in the room might even notice.

But I noticed. And that was enough for her.

As the class continued, Ellie let herself settle back into her seat, but her mind was sharp, focused, and alive with the thrill of competition. Dylan might have been the golden boy of the class, but today, in this small, unexpected moment, Ellie had beaten him. And for once, it felt really good to smile back at him—just a little bit smug, just a little bit competitive—knowing that he hadn’t seen this coming.

The moment I finished answering the question, I could feel it—a mix of pride and adrenaline coursing through me. I had nailed it, no hesitation, no second-guessing. The class had been quiet after I spoke, the silence hanging in the air before the professor acknowledged my answer. It felt like the eyes of the entire room were on me, but in that instant, I didn’t care. For once, I was the one who had it together.

But then there was the scoff.

I didn’t even need to look at him to know exactly who it was. Bakugo. The ever-present thorn in my side. His chair creaked as he shifted, his eyes narrowing in that way I was so familiar with. He looked almost... irritated, the kind of expression he wore when he thought someone was challenging his spot as top dog in this class. And right now, it was clear that he did not appreciate the fact that I was the one who had answered confidently.

Why does it always have to be him? I wondered, my hands clenched under the desk. I knew it was coming—he was going to find some way to one-up me, to make me feel small for doing something as simple as knowing the answer. I hated how predictable he was, but I hated even more that it affected me so much. I’d never let him see that, though. He had to think I was just as indifferent as he was.

I kept my eyes trained forward, pretending like his irritation didn’t bother me, like I wasn’t still replaying the way he’d looked at me, the way he always tried to put me in my place. It’s just a class. It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. This isn’t real life. This is just some stupid competition.

The bell rang, breaking my thoughts, and the class started to pack up. As usual, Bakugo shoved his things into his bag with that signature smug expression, as if he'd already forgotten the moment I’d answered correctly. He probably wouldn’t give it a second thought, while I would be stewing in it for the rest of the day.

I grabbed my phone, hoping to distract myself. A new message from Dino.tnt 609 popped up. My fingers tapped the screen eagerly, relieved for the sudden shift in focus.

Dino.tnt609: “So, Halloween party tomorrow night.. what do you think? You in?”

I smiled at the message. Dino. He was the one person who could make everything feel lighter, even when things felt heavy. Talking to him always made me feel like I could breathe again after a day of dealing with Bakugo’s constant need to compete. Dino was my escape. He didn’t care about grades or the stupid academic battles I fought with Bakugo every day. He just… gets me.

But then I hesitated. My thumb hovered over the keyboard as I began to type, the excitement of the invite quickly dampened by a twinge of anxiety. The party. It should be fun, right? Just a Halloween party. But the idea of seeing someone in person—someone I had only ever known through texts and memes and game chats—suddenly felt overwhelming. What if I didn’t click with him in real life? What if meeting him was awkward?

But more than that, what if it turned out that the person I was texting with every night was someone I couldn’t stand in real life? What if he was one of those people who, once you met them face to face, you realized you just didn’t vibe with? What if it was someone like Bakugo?

Wait, no. Don’t think that. I tried to push the thought out of my head. I knew it was irrational. Dino wasn’t Bakugo. He couldn’t be. Dino was the one who listened to my rants without judgment. Bakugo would’ve laughed at my complaints, probably turned it into some kind of competition. But Dino didn’t—he understood. He had always been there when I needed to vent about school, about life, about how exhausting it was to constantly feel like I had to prove myself to people who didn’t deserve it.

I bit my lip, still unsure. Maybe I was overthinking it. It’s just a Halloween party. Just one night. The mask I planned to wear would make it easier, give me an extra layer of comfort in case things felt weird. And if it turned out the person I was meeting in real life was someone I couldn’t stand? I could always leave early, or just keep the mask on, keep things light. No pressure.

With a sigh, I finally typed back.

starz26708: “I’m not sure yet. I want to go, but I keep thinking about who I might run into. What if it’s someone I already know and just don’t get along with? I hate the idea of meeting someone and realizing they’re not who I thought they’d be…”

I glanced at the message after I sent it, my heart pounding slightly. What if Dino didn’t understand? What if he thought I was being weird or overdramatic? But no, Dino would get it. He always did.

My phone buzzed almost immediately, and I opened the message from him.

Dino.tnt609: “I totally get it. Meeting people in real life is a lot different, especially when you’ve only talked to them online. But hey, no worries. If you don’t like the vibe when you get there, you don’t have to stay. Just come and hang out for a bit, if you feel like it. We can just keep it lowkey. And honestly, the mask thing sounds awesome. No pressure at all.”

I felt the tension leave my shoulders as I read his reply. Dino’s message was so casual, so easy-going. It reminded me that I didn’t have to overthink everything. The idea of the mask suddenly felt like a safe haven, a way to protect myself if things didn’t go as planned. And if things went well? Even better.

I glanced at my costume on the chair across the room, the simple, cute outfit with the eye mask. It was just for fun, right? It would be a way to keep things light, to feel like I could still hide behind some layer of anonymity, just in case. I could show up, meet DIno, and see how it felt. If I didn’t like the vibe, I could leave. No harm done.

Taking a deep breath, I typed out my response.

starz26708: “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll come to the party. And I’ll wear the mask. No pressure. Just… a fun time, right?”

I hit send and sat back in my chair, feeling both nervous and excited. The thought of meeting Maverick in real life still made my heart race, but now there was a sense of excitement bubbling up, too. No more overthinking. Tomorrow would be what it would be.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, I couldn’t help but think back to the classroom earlier that day, the way Bakugo had looked at me with that scoff, like I was some kind of threat to his place in the class. I couldn’t stop him from being irritated or annoyed by me. But for once, I didn’t need to care. I was about to meet someone who saw me for who I really was, not just some competitor in an academic race.

And for the first time in a while, that felt like enough.

The library was still, the kind of stillness that envelops you like a blanket, pressing in with its quiet whispers. The scent of old books and fresh paper, mingled with the faint hum of fluorescent lights, filled the air. I sat at my usual spot in the corner near the back row of tables, tucked between two towering bookshelves. The table before me was cluttered with textbooks, notebooks, and a half-finished cup of coffee that had long since cooled. It was late afternoon, and the golden light from the windows cast long shadows across the floor, making everything feel a bit more serene than usual.

I liked it here—the calm, the solitude, the sense of focus that always seemed to find its way to me in the midst of my chaotic thoughts. But today, there was an odd distraction. Him. Bakugo.

It wasn’t that he had suddenly appeared or made his presence known in any way. No, he’d been here for a while now, sitting at the table across from hers, his head bent low over a stack of textbooks. His usual aloofness was present, that edge of arrogance that always seemed to follow him like a cloud, but it was muted somehow. Less blatant. Less in-your-face.

I could feel the tension in her chest as I stole a glance at him. My eyes lingered for just a moment, not sure what to make of it. He wasn’t showing off, wasn’t playing the part of the smug academic genius. He was just… working.

It was weird. It had been a while since I’d seen Bakugo like this—since he had been normal. Or maybe that wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was more like he was letting his guard down a little, just enough for me to notice. He was still Bakugo, the same guy who had scoffed at me when I answered that question in class with confidence, the same guy who’d shot me looks of condescension every chance he got. But today, there was something… different.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the way my thoughts were spiraling around him. I didn’t like this feeling. I didn’t like the fact that I was starting to care, even a little, about what Bakugo thought—or, worse, starting to wonder if he was, in some way, not the person I always assumed him to be.

My focus snapped back to my notes. I had a test coming up. A test I needed to ace. No distractions. No thoughts about him. And yet, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting back to him.

Bakugo had paused in the middle of writing, a pencil hovering above his notebook as he looked at something in the distance, his gaze unfocused. There was a tiredness about him today, something uncharacteristic, as though the weight of his own expectations were getting to him. His posture had shifted slightly; no longer the rigid, always-perfect stance, but more slouched, as if the constant pressure of being the best was beginning to wear on him. I had always known that he had his own demons, just as I did. But today, it felt… real somehow. It felt more human.

I tried to shake it off, to tell myself that this was just another moment of my own weakness, my need to understand people. To make sense of things. But it was harder now. It was harder to keep the walls up when I had seen a flicker of something real underneath the arrogance.

Bakugo cleared his throat suddenly, breaking the silence between them, and my eyes shot up, my heart giving an unexpected jolt. He was looking at me now, but not with the same sharp, dismissive gaze I was used to. No, this time, it was... different. There was still a hint of skepticism, but it wasn’t the biting kind. It was almost... curious.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, but not with the usual irritation. It was more like an observation. “Staring off into space.”

I blinked, surprised by the comment. “What?”

“You’re distracted,” he said, his voice quieter now. He shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired sigh. “You’ve been looking at me like I’m some kind of puzzle you’re trying to figure out.”

I frowned, annoyed at how accurately he’d read me, even though I hadn’t been aware of it myself. “I haven’t been staring at you,” I muttered, though it wasn’t very convincing. I hadn’t meant to stare at him, but it was hard not to when something about today felt... off. In a way that was hard to describe.

Bakugo smirked, the edge of his usual arrogance slipping back for a moment. “Sure you haven’t.”

The flicker of their old dynamic was still there, but there was something softer in the way he said it. No ridicule. No malice. Just a simple, half-amused observation.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. This wasn’t helping me focus. And yet, there was something about the way Bakugo was acting today that made me feel like he wasn’t just my academic rival anymore. He wasn’t just the guy who competed against me for every grade, for every small victory.

For a split second,I entertained the thought that maybe—just maybe—I had misjudged him. But I quickly dismissed it. Bakugo was still Bakugo. Still arrogant. Still stubborn. Still too proud for his own good.

“I’m trying to focus,” I muttered, feeling a bit of tension in my chest, my irritation creeping back.

Bakugo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he picked up his pencil again and started scribbling something in his notebook. The sound of the lead scraping against the paper was oddly calming in the otherwise quiet space. I could feel the weight of the moment stretch out, the minutes slipping by as both of us worked, neither of us speaking.

And then, unexpectedly, Bakugo spoke again.

“You know,” he said, his voice a little softer than before, “you’re not the only one stressed out about this stuff.”

I blinked at him. What?

“Yeah,” He continued, not looking up from his work. “I might seem like I have everything figured out all the time, but I don’t. I—” He paused for a second, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something that wasn’t arrogance in his eyes. “I hate feeling like I’m always just... expected to be the best, you know?”

I was taken aback. I didn’t know how to respond at first. This wasn’t the Bakugo I knew, the Bakugo who acted like he had the world on a string and was just waiting for it to fall into place. No, this was different. This was... human. Vulnerable, even.

I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. “I get it,” I said quietly, before I could stop herself. “I feel the same way. Like I’m always trying to prove something. Like I’m never enough.”

Bakugo finally looked up at me then, his expression more thoughtful than I had ever seen it. The usual arrogance was still there, tucked beneath the surface, but it wasn’t all-consuming. For a second, he just looked at her, as if considering her words. And for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say next.

Then, surprisingly, Bakugo offered a small, almost imperceptible nod, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, not into a smirk, but a genuine smile. It wasn’t much—certainly not the kind of smile I ever expect from him—but it was enough.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Guess we’re not so different after all.”

I was silent for a moment, processing the unexpected turn in their conversation. There was still so much about him that grated on my nerves, but in that moment, sitting in the library with him, I realized something. Maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than the arrogant exterior he always wore. Maybe there was a real person beneath all that pride and stubbornness.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to see him for who he truly was.

“I guess so,” I replied, offering him a small smile of my own.

Both of us went back to their work, the silence stretching out between us again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… peaceful. There was an understanding now, an unspoken truce. They weren’t enemies, not really—not anymore.

For the first time, I realized that their rivalry didn’t have to define us. We could just be two students, studying together in the same quiet space, both trying to survive the pressures of their lives.

And in that simple moment, sitting across from each other, we both found a kind of peace.

taglist: @sara4uuu @zoast32 @lemon-lav @instantmagazineconnoisseur (comment to be added on my taglist!)

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[senmiyaazx]

WAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HAD JUST PLAYED THE NEW UPDATE AND THE BAD ENDING KILLED ME. I WANT TO PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH MY COMPUTER BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE IT'S TOO EXPENSIVE 😭 I'LL NEVER LOOK AT AXES AND CROWE THE SAME EVER AGAIN

sorry for being overdramatic that ending really hurt me and i love crowe 😢

can you write crowe and reader's date after they got together in day 1? let's say Sol didn't find out when crowe and reader kissed so crowe gets to live (not for long tho)

i just wanted a peaceful love life with Jericho Ichabod 😭

CROWE X GN READER

spoilers for the update (bad ending)

a/n: an au where mc remembers all the saves they've done and knowing that they'll never be able to reciprocate crowe's feelings without putting him in danger would make pretty good angst ngl.

cw: slight angst (I'm sorry I couldn't help it). overall very fluffy. i think. reader is lowkey a simp.

bonus fanart at the end!

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He's so pretty it hurts. Pretty like the way his braided hair fell gracefully on his shoulders. Pretty like the ethereal glow that kissed his tan skin in the afternoon sun. Pretty, like his sapphire irises that gazed at you with such fondness that it made your heart ache.

Fuck. He's so beautiful and you're sure he's aware of it.

"(Name)? Are you okay?" He asks as if you'll ever be okay when he looks at you like that.

After that night— that one special night that might as well be one of your core memories. It was your first kiss. With Crowe. The guy you thought would never reciprocate your feelings. The man who liked you longer than you did.

Crowe.

And now, it's just you two in your comfort spot. The school garden. After that night he invited you here. For what? A date? Gee, is he trying to kill you or something?

It was already difficult enough to face him after.. well, the kiss. Now he decided to invite you to somewhere private. Just the two of you. Crowe and I.

It's weird thinking like that. It feels weird to put your name beside Crowe, even if you've discreetly written your name next to him with a heart multiple times on your notebook.

And yet you still called yourself a mere 'admirer'. How naive could you get?

Ah, well, it doesn't matter now. You sat next to him on the ground with your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, and you're stiffer than a damn wall.

Don't look at me like that. You think. Don't you dare give me that look. That concerned, caring face he always gave you when you're feeling incredibly warm and your heart is seconds away from going into cardiac arrest. Can you stop being so handsome?

"(Name)," Crowe repeats, bringing you back to reality. "Are you okay?"

You take a deep breath. Maybe you're being too dramatic, acting like a teenage girl with her first crush. Or maybe Crowe just has that effect on you. Can you really blame yourself? He's like a prince for fuck's sake. "Yeah. Don't worry."

His brows furrowed, unconvinced. "Loosen up a little, won't you? You act like we're strangers." His tone takes on a more playful one, hoping to lighten the mood. "We've known each other for a year.. yet you're still so nervous around me." He grinned. His hand reaches out to brush a stray hair away from your face, the warmth from his touch lingering. What a tease.

"Not my fault you're so handsome.." You crossed your arms with a huff. "Seriously. If being pretty was illegal you'd be a criminal." You weren't even aware of what you're saying at this point. You've gotten so comfortable with Crowe that you simply didn't care what you say in front of him.

He blinks, staring at you as you continued to mumble under your breath. Cute. He thinks. You're way too cute sometimes.

He leaned in closer, a teasing grin on his face. "You think I'm that pretty?"

You stop mumbling, turning to face him only to be jumpscared because of how close he was. "What the- Of course I do!" You lean away from him, cheeks warm. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who thinks that way. Aren't you aware of the letters you received on Valentine's day?"

He smiled at this, backing away to give you space. "Of course I was." He paused, studying your figure with a warm gaze. "But you know I only had eyes for you on that day."

Your chest tingled, remembering the chocolate you gifted to him. You didn't expect he'd have a gift of his own for you too. Back then, you always thought he'd forget about you one day.

He never did.

"Corny." Yet you couldn't help the smile that crept to your lips, contrasting your words. He let out a chuckle at that to which you responded with a light punch to his shoulder.

A long silence settled comfortably between you two for a while. Simply basking in each other's presence, taking in the peaceful scenery with him. Despite the silence, it was enough for you. Being with him was enough.

And you couldn't help but voice it out loud. "I'm so glad to be with you."

He's caught off guard by that, but quickly regains his composure as he intertwined your fingers together with the softest smile you've ever seen.

"Me too."

Heavens, you love him. So damn much.

So please let this moment last forever.

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bonus cuz i love Crowe so much

not the best art I've done but i really wanted to do this to give myself motivation to write:) and also i wanted an excuse to draw him even though i already have a w.i.p of him lol

[weneepie]

neighbours w/ eddie brock & venom rules | m.list

note. yes i saw the last Venom movie and no i'm not okay, but let's act like everything's fine okay? <3 feel free to request!

You had been living in the apartment for a while now, and as you weren’t really the type to sympathise with people, you had no idea who your own neighbours were. Until one of them became way too loud for you to ignore. 

It wasn’t like you were doing a really difficult job, even if it was still debatable. Being a writer was making you stay up all night long to keep writing your book with the hope of finally being able to finish it and, one day, find an editor. But the guy living next to you? He was making things impossible for you. 

You had decided to let it pass, hoping that it would simply stop by itself ; but it didn’t. Actually, you could swear it had become worse by the time. So one night, you decided that it was already more than enough, and you left your place to come knock at his door. 

You heard sounds of stuff breaking, a guy talking by himself, until he finally opened the door. He was all alone, and he seemed to be anything but okay. The guy was sweating in his grey hoodie, and he looked completely exhausted. You frowned slightly when he offered you an awkward smile. 

“Hi, I’m sorry about the noise.” He started, and you could only sighed at his words. How could you be angry at a poor guy who seemed to be just as in a bad state as you right now? You slowly shook your hand. “It’s fine, just try to be careful. I’m not sleeping much, but it’s hard to focus with all the noise you’re making.” 

You met his gaze when you heard him murmuring something. What was his problem? You were trying to be nice, there was no way he was really speaking under his breath. “Excuse me?” You asked with an eyebrow raised, and the guy quickly looked back at you. “No, nothing! Sorry again.” And with that, the conversation was over. 

After the ‘incident’, it was always like fate wanted you to meet your neighbour more often than it was the case before. In the elevator, when you were going out of your apartment to put the trash out ; anything. By the time, you learnt that your neighbour’s name was Eddie, and that he was a journalist. Both of you weren’t doing the same job, but you had the same troubles so it felt easy to talk with him, even though Eddie was a bit… strange. 

It was almost like he was never fully comfortable, something being awkward with him all the time. You might have sounded crazy, but you could swear it was like he was never alone in his own mind. Eddie was the type to talk to himself, in a whisper or louder than expected sometimes. You learnt to deal with it, but you couldn’t get out of your head this silly idea that Eddie was hiding something from you. 

One night, after some friends almost forced you to go out with them at the bar, you were walking alone in the street to go back to your apartment. You weren’t even tipsy, as drinking wasn’t much your thing, so you were sure that the noises you heard behind you were more than real. You tried to walk faster, but it was obviously not enough. Soon, your wrist was held by a complete stranger trying to get you to come with him. 

You didn’t have much time to fight him back, because he flew away suddenly. You opened your eyes wide, following his figure crashing in the wall, not understanding what had just happened before your eyes. It didn’t make much more sense when you looked back at where he was before and saw a large dark figure standing in front of you. 

Large white eyes, and even larger teeth going out of a stupidly wide mouth ; you were sure you were about to die here and now. The monster tilted his head to the side, examining your figure before it kind of smiled, making it even creepier than before. “The little human shouldn’t walk alone so late.” His voice was deep, deeper than anything you ever heard in your life before. 

“We’ll walk you back,” it said, and you weren’t sure if you really had the choice to refuse the offer. At least, he didn’t want to eat you alive, it was a good start. “Eddie says you’re nice, and we agree with him.” 

Wait… Eddie? You looked back at the creature with a frown, and you could swear you heard someone yell at the monster under all of those muscles. “Eddie says we can’t tell you he’s here, but he’s hidden,” said the black monster. The more he spoke, and the less you understood what was going on. Until it revealed you the truth hidden for so long. 

The dark figure disappeared, only to leave you in front of your neighbour, Eddie Brock, a black head with sort of tentacles going out of his shoulder. You blinked a few times, completely at loss of words. Eddie had this awkward smile on his lips, trying to find the right words. The silence felt like an eternity, so many thoughts flooding in your mind. 

“That’s Venom. You weren’t supposed to meet him, or to know he was… well, me? Kinda.” You frowned, your eyes now locked on Eddie’s face who wasn’t helping you at all to understand everything. “Venom? You have an alien inside of you?” You almost snapped at him, the confusion too strong to think straight. “

“A symbiote, but yeah, technically an alien,” he said, and a sigh escaped your lips. You had so many questions ; and now that you knew, you weren’t going to give Eddie the choice to explain everything or not. You needed to know what was really happening, and how it was even possible. 

This is how you ended up staying almost the whole night at Eddie’s place, with him and the symbiote explaining to you the situation. You quickly understood that it wasn’t a simple possession ; Eddie was a host and they both had this kind of situationship a bit weird that was going on. Venom was way less terrifying now that you saw him bickering with your neighbour. You could almost think he was fun, but it was too early for this. 

But after this, you started to spend even more time with your neighbour. Him and his symbiote, of course. Sometimes, when they were fighting too much, Venom would leave his host to come hide with you for some time. Not too long, because hurting you was the last thing he wanted, but enough to run away from Eddie. The man was never too worried, because he knew exactly where his stupid symbiote was. 

It was a weird dynamic between the three of you, but it was something which was working pretty well. You were spending hours and hours at Eddie’s place to write while he was working on his articles, and Venom would alway complain about how boring it was to have you both working at the same time while he had nothing to do. The symbiote was an attention seeker, you learnt that quickly. 

And when things began to evolve between you and Eddie, you knew Venom would always be implicated too. You didn’t expect to be in a relationship so soon, but even less in a polyamorous thing with a man and an alien. But nothing could go wrong, right? There was absolutely no reason to be worried, or at least it was what you were trying to say to yourself. 

But you were right. It was, actually, even better than what you had imagined. Eddie was the sweetest man you ever met, always taking care of everything for you and making sure you were doing good. It was probably the most safe and sane relationship you ever had, and it was strange to say that. Because Venom was the same, in his way. 

He was a bit clumsy, most of the time, but he was always trying his best. You never felt uncomfortable, even if he could be pretty bold or franc sometimes. It was part of his charm, you had to say. When he started to share his chocolate with you, you knew he was doing the biggest step to someone in his whole life. 

After all, it wasn’t so bad to be living in this shitty apartment.

thank you for reading!

[yellowocaballero]

what manhwa have you been reading? I've currently been on a very shitty romance isekai villainess kick lmao

I grasp your hands. Another pig in the trough of manwha. I'm not a huge villainess person, but obviously I have read a shitton of it. I read so much awful manwha, but the good is SO good. Everybody knows that SSS Class Suicide Hunter is perfection, but I feel like The Ember Knight is fucking incredible and not discussed as much! Everybody read The Ember Knight (if you like action)! It's incredible!

I just finished Concubine Walkthrough, which was AMAZING. So good! What a great usage of the premise! Chinese period piece concubine drama (a whole genre.) + 'player gets trapped in an MMORPG' flavor isekai + being ACTUALLY science fiction and extremely interested in the science fiction aspects of virtual reality. I refuse to read those gamer MMORPG manwhas because they're terrible, but Concubine Walkthrough is what you always wish those stories were like.

I also just read through My In-Laws Are Obsessed With Me, which sounds like it should be uninteresting but it is shockingly extremely good. Very good character work, extremely slow and realistic buildup of the importance of the FL in the family, great politics/character dynamics, and the slowburn romance is even really good. Just overall extremely good writing and it was an extremely good read.

I've also been reading Until The Tragic Male Lead Walks Again, which is incredibly fun and funny through virtue of himbo buff FL and sweet and sensitive ML. The ML is disabled as well, which is also always great to see, although it still has that strange character note that's identical to Touch My Brother and You're Dead and associates a man gaining a disability as losing masculinity and blah blah blah woke brain off. I also really enjoyed Perks of Being an S-Class Heroine, which does a difficult thing and makes the OP hero story actually very enjoyable. I also re-read/caught up on Lead Me Kidnap The Male Lead! which is VERY fun 100/10 recommend. Also like a lot of other stuff but those are the ones I would recommend.

Always taking manwha recs so if you got any I will definitely check them out :3.

[metalheadsforblacklivesmatter]

Fae will take 10 seconds here to address the election then Fae will be back on hiatus because a Fae has other things going on in his life.

Is Fae screaming and crying over the election? No

Why is Fae not screaming and crying over the election? Let's say Fae has spent many months being pre-sad over this election. Even if we'd "won" we'd still have lost. Even if Trump weren't president, that'd still mean 70 million people were okay with a "grab them by the pussy" racist rapist with 34 felonies saw that man and was like "Yeah I'm totally fine with that" and that's TERRIFYING for minorities. And I knew who matter won it was gonna be like that.

Will Fae be wearing the blue bracelet? No. I don't completely think people understand what I'm expecting if they say "I'm a safe person". I feel like they're meaning "You can tell me you're gay and I won't hate crime you" when I'm expecting "If I see a minority being harassed I'll be the first to step up".

What will we do now? A lot of things. There's people organizing protests. There's people organizing abortion networks. There's a midterm election in 2 years and while we can't remove Trump we can limit his power by electing people into the house and senate as well as elect people into our local offices that will make it AS DIFFICULT AS POSSIBLE for Trump to enact his policies.

Does Fae have any last words? Yeah. Trust me that I'm saying this with my full chest as I say this. I will have zero fucking sympathy for the gay people and the white women in the leopard eating faces party when the leopards start eating YOUR faces. You know that? I been having zero goddamn sympathy for the gay people and women in the leopard eating faces party. All you do is teach them to treat us like shit. I'll record it and goddamn laugh over popcorn. You know how many people got fucking pissed at me because I told them the leopards want to eat their faces too?

To the conservatives shouting "Cry and Cope". I ain't fucking crying. All these liberals that are new to this because they didn't give a shit until liberals were the ones that were being targeted may be fucking crying. But I'm used to fucking disappointment by now. We're gonna fucking sigh. Support the existing networks that protect our most vulnerable. And figure out what's next. Because goddamn crying don't do shit.

Fae out.

[annwrites]

⸻ corsets & clockwork one-shot collection

· pairing: assassin!jacaerys x fem!reader · type: one-shot (collection) · summary: to get out of the group apartment for the night, you go onto the rooftop, but jace of course follows you up. · word count: 677

Zepplins and airships soar along slowly through the cool night air.

You sit perched atop the ledge of the brick rooftop of the apartment complex, watching them idly.

You then look down and study the faraway cobblestone streets below, watching as gas lanterns flicker, warding away the looming dark that engulfs narrow alleys and alcoves people skulk through and tread along. The occasional clop of hooves echoes as wooden and metal wheels roll along, taking passengers to their destinations for the evening.

It being this time of night, however—the large clock in the town square near to tolling midnight—there are only few places they could be headed to.

Casinos, perhaps. Or brothels. Or, to the docks to do business which would otherwise be deemed unseemly were it to take place in the light of day instead. If not illegal, most likely.

You're interrupted from your assumptions by the soft scuff of boots, but don't bother with turning your head.

You've everyone's gaits down-pat now, including his.

Especially his, maybe.

You ignore that fact.

"Get down."

You roll your eyes. "Why?"

He takes a few steps closer. "Because I told you to. You don't need more reason than that."

You snort quietly and slowly swing your legs to and fro while leaning back, pressing your palms to the hard brick beneath you. "I'm perfectly comfortable where I am."

He lets out a low curse, which instils within you a small sense of satisfaction.

Whenever you're both in the apartment at the same time—which isn't incredibly often—he always leers at you from across the room beneath furrowed brows, with a dark gaze, and a tightly clenched jaw, so you come up here to escape, and still he's displeased.

"You're making me nervous up there. If you fall—"

You stand suddenly and he clamps his mouth shut.

You level your arms on either side of you and begin to imitate a tightrope walker while placing one foot in front of the other—toe to heel, heel to toe—and Jace crosses his arms while a frown tugs at his lips.

"You must think yourself terribly clever, but you're only serving to ignite my ire."

You shrug slightly while smirking at him over your shoulder. "As if that's terribly difficult to achieve."

He grits his teeth.

"I came up here to be alone, you know?"

He steps closer. "Get down. I won't ask again."

You swing one leg over the edge and snicker. "Look—no hands and only one foot!"

He bares his teeth—a sign that his anger has finally reached its limit.

You giggle, strictly from nerves at the unsettling sight, and he quickly reaches out, takes hold of your hand, and pulls you suddenly from the ledge.

You lose your footing and scream in fright as your body lunges in the wrong direction, but he holds firm and you fall into his chest.

He catches you beneath your legs and cradles you against his body while you draw in ragged breaths, trying desperately to calm your pattering heart.

You stare into his dark eyes, half-hidden beneath curls that are of a similar shade, and the words you mean to say—so as to give him a piece of your mind—become stuck in your throat at the sight of him staring at your lips.

Your brows knit together momentarily, and then he practically tosses you down.

You land on your bottom, and a foul word slips from your lips in response to the pain that starts at your tailbone and radiates up your back.

"Ow, Jace! That hurt!"

He glances to the ledge, then back to you. "Imagine how much worse you'd feel had I not pulled you down."

You rise to your feet. "I came up here to get away from you, since all you seem in there is bothered by my presence!"

He rolls his eyes, but of course doesn't deign to reply as he turns and walks to the door.

He holds it open with an expectant look, and you sigh dramatically before going back inside, with him following closely behind.

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea

[hoonieyun]

collecting tears - jongseong

jar of tears that were shed for jongseong

park jongseong x reader "y/n"

genre: angst, breakup, the one that got away

warnings: profanity, mental illness/depression, overall 18+

summary: no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get jongseong out of your head. two years after your tear filled and emotional breakup, he's still on your mind but it seems he hasn't thought about you since that night.

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier olivia rodrigo - happier word count: 2007

text in italics are flashbacks

You saw him in everything. 

You saw him in the way your glasses reflected the light as it sat on your vanity.

You saw him in the way your guitar collected dust in the corner of your bedroom. 

And you saw him in your reflection as you stared at your tear stained face and dark circles under your eyes. 

The memory of Jongseong that you held onto hurt more than the idea of being without him, because being without him only led to the memories of when you were with him, something that no longer exists in your life. 

Jongseong. 

The events of your tear filled and emotional breakup replays in your mind often, Jongseong’s tired face and the broken picture frame scattered into thousands of pieces in your bedroom. You could hear the argument in your head like it was playing through a speaker that followed you wherever you went. The last words you ever spoke to him ringing in your ears as a constant reminder that your inability to process your emotions and failure to stabilize your mind was the reason you were so lonely, even two whole years after your breakup. 

It’s a gloomy afternoon in the middle of September. The weather foreshadows the inevitable dreary, dull, and dark outcome of what your life would be for years to come. You had been in bed all day, crippled by your anxiety and depression, making it difficult for you to make any rational decisions or clear judgement of what you should be doing. 

Your phone fills with unanswered calls and texts that would remain unanswered until you convinced yourself enough that you weren’t a burden to others. Something that you wouldn’t be able to shake off for almost half a year from today. A feeling that still lingers and creeps up onto you every now and then. 

“Honey?” a voice asks from beyond the darkness of your bedroom. You quickly wiped away your tears and did your best to make it seem like you weren’t crying the whole day. Pulling yourself up and dragging the blanket further up your body to cover yourself as if your boyfriend, Jongseong, was anyone you should be hiding away from. His tenderness and soft demeanor was the first thing that attracted you towards him, his good looks was just a plus. 

“Honey, are you still sleeping?” Jongseong asks as he slowly pushes the door of your bedroom open, a slight creak sounding from the hinges as light emerges from the other side of the door, Jongseong’s silhouette outlined by the light. “Hi… No, i’ve just been in bed. Doing some thinking…” you say, trying to avoid the fact that you were just crying and hoping that he doesn’t notice as he makes his way closer. 

Your bed dips as Jongseong takes a seat next to your figure, still hiding under the blanket. It goes without being said but Jongseong knew you all too well.

He knew when you were really happy over fake happy because true joy spreads across your face when your eyes widen and you blink a thousan times, like you were trying your best to contain your joy but ultimately failing. 

He knew when you were upset because you would sniffle your nose as a way to avoid awkward silence or having to voice out your feelings. 

And he knew when you were sad because you’d rather surround yourself in the comfort of the darkness instead of reaching out to the hand that could pull you away from the dark. Much like how you were right now. 

Jongseong would’ve never abandoned you. He vowed that he would always be by your side no matter what, had you let him. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” he asks, already knowing the answer but he’s made it a habit to encourage you to vocalize your feelings so that it would be easier for you to process them. You only hummed in response but you knew that you should’ve told him how you felt in that moment because it only manifested into something worse. 

He sighs at your response, he would be lying if he said that sometimes he wished it was easier, but what was love if it didn’t have some ups and downs. Jongseong just hoped that it was up more than it was down. You scoff at him. Your anxiety was already talking you closer to a ledge and you didn’t need this from him right now. You were convinced that he only came here to make you more upset and the voices validated that outrageous claim over the evidence that Jongseong only had love for you. 

“You don’t need to be here. You can leave.” your harsh words piercing into Jongseong’s heart, a feeling of guilt over hurt as he had hoped his presence alone would be enough to make you feel better but it only made you feel worse and he didn’t know why. 

“Why would I leave? I want to be here, let me take care of you.” Jongseong says, inching closer to you but you quickly recoil away from, widening the distance like your mattress was meters long. “What’s wrong? Y/N, talk to me…” Jongseong urges but his pleas of wanting to be let in only read as judgement. Like he was judging you for the way you were instead of trying to understand you. Your mind forces a lie for you to believe over the truth, that Jongseong loved you and he wished you knew how much he did. 

He loved you more than anxiety loved to cling onto the smallest piece of doubt in your mind. 

He loved you more than you loved the darkness. 

And he loved you more than words could say but no amount of words could ever tell you that. 

“Just leave, I don’t need you here to think I’m someone to take care of and be seen as a burden!” you say, voice now a bit louder as frustration begins to build inside of you. “Honey, you’re not a burden and I’d never treat you like that.” Jongseong says as he settles his hand over your thigh, rubbing it softly over the blanket. 

“Why do you do that? Huh?!” you ask, scattering away from his touch and dragging yourself out of bed to stand in front of him. 

“You think you can just come in here and act like I’m some poor and unfortunate thing that needs to be fixed or that needs to be looked after. I know you see me as a burden Jongseong, you just don’t want to say it because you’d rather convince yourself that you love me instead of facing the truth. 

What did you even come here for? To make sure that I wasn’t doing well? So you could come and swoop in to save the day? You see me as nothing more than just a sick puppy to take care of. You’ve only stayed as long as you have because you pity me more than you love me.” the words just continue to spill out of you. the voices inside of your head had fully convinced you that everything you were saying was the truth and you were only just helping Jongseong face it. 

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He loved you more than anything and he couldn’t process the fact that you only saw him as someone that pitied you over someone that truly loves you. Because he did. He loved you… or was he starting to believe that what you were saying was in fact the truth. 

“How could you say that?” Jongseong says, voice low and discouraged. Great, now you had upset him and intead of focusing on yourself you now had to worry about your boyfriend’s feelings. 

“I- You know what. We’re done. Get out.” your voice was dull but it stabbed Jongseong’s heart like it was nothing. “What?” he says in disbelief and you don’t even give him time to process as you're grabbing his wrists and doing your best to drag him out of your apartment. His body was heavy as he tried to stop you but there was something, aside from you, pulling Jongseong out of your apartment and away from you. 

Was it wrong to say that maybe there was a small chance he had been waiting for you to push him away? That he had been secretly hoping you would finally get tired of him so that he no longer had to deal with you? Was that so wrong for him to want to be happy in the chance that it meant not being happy with you?

As he pondered these questions, the slam of your front door knocked him out of his thoughts, eyes glued onto the brown paint of the front door. Jongseong contimplated to knock on the door, beg for him to be let in, but he chooses not. Dropping his hand to his side with a sigh as he turns on his heel and walks away from your apartment. 

And ultimately walking away from you, forever. 

You, on the other hand, waited on the other side of the door, tears welling in your eyes the longer you waited for Jongseong to try and make his way back in. Hoping that you would hear his voice that you loved so much, ask for you to open the door so he could take care of you. 

Because maybe, even if you thought you didn’t need it, you did need to be taken care of. And Jongseong was the person who had done that for as long as you could remember. 

But the longer you waited the more sadness and regret filtered out the insecurity and doubt. Leaving you to stand in your home, alone, and never to see Jongseong again. 

You drag yourself back into your bedroom, flickering the light on and the first thing your eyes fall to is the framed photo of you and Jongseong. The photo was of the day he asked you to be his girlfriend. A photo of you sitting in the middle of a field for a picnic that he had planned. Flowers and your favorite food and snacks sitting next to the both of you on the picnic blanket. 

The anger you felt from the photo surged throughout your body and without even thinking you swipe the photo off your vanity, tears flowing from your eyes as it crashes to the floor into thousands of pieces. 

You would have hoped that two years after your breakup that you would’ve gotten better and gotten over him, but you fell back into the cycle of shrouding in darkness when a photo of Jongseong appears on your SNS. 

He’s smiling, hair done in the way you liked, in a suit that made him look like a prince, and an arm around the waist of a girl you didn’t know. Your eyes trailed over from his arms, to her waist, to her arm, and then to the ring on her finger. 

It felt like your heart shattered in that moment. Like you were offended and hurt that Jongseong would ever choose another girl over you as if you gave him a choice like you hadn’t made that choice for him. 

More tears well in your eyes as you glance over to Jongseong again. His smile was so beautiful and that was when you realized you had never seen him smile like that when he was with you. He seemed so happy and it hurt even more knowing that he was happy without you. 

But there was no one to blame but you. 

You forced him away and what a waste of a life for Jongseong to never choose happiness. 

You only ever wished that he would be happy. 

Just as long as he’s not happier without you. 

Maybe in another life. When you weren’t so convinced that everyone hated you and that you were deserving of Jongseong’s love. 

Maybe in another life. 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

the credit for the lyrics used in this piece of writing go to their rightful owners

[call-sign-shark]

Brummie, I'm sorry for the delay I was convinced I replied! Also I'm sorry for not having caught up with your new series yet but I can't read anything as long as I don't get the next fucking chapter of HYE out. It eats my brain and frustrates me.

Anyway, your comment was insanely pleasing -- I loved your insight about the whole baby situation, even more when considering the fact that you're a mom so you feel/know it better than anyone else. She was definitely not ready to share the news of her baby: not only was she not ready but she was seriously unhappy about the timing of the pregnancy, which kept her from enjoying the news. She's not mad per se but she cannot find the strength to rejoice nor think about it in a positive light because all she can think about is how weak, how vulnerable she is. With that being said, it doesn't mean that she hates the kid and I was really afraid that it would diminish the feelings I try to convey in the magic scene. As you said, this is probably the most difficult choice a woman can make in her life: your love or your baby. Also, I didn't want to describe it in a too gruesome way but the psychological as well as physical pain is unbearable. It's as if she felt her baby's life getting drained as she tried to save Arthur :'(

About Tommy.... Aaah, I feel like he's a big theme of HYE alongside Arthur, obviously. There is definitely something extremely toxic in the way he behaves with her and you'll see it more in the next chapter. If each interaction, even the nicest ones, makes your skin crawl then it means I did my job pretty well. 😬 I don't know if he will learn to respect her boundaries but at least we have seen him getting pretty soft when she really needs him (John's death, now Arthur) even if it's temporary. Tommy loves being complicated in every story ay?🙄

Thank you so much for still reading my series and for always being there. You're fantastic, honey. 🖤

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x You

Summary: It was supposed to be an entertaining evening. Boxing fights, booze and party. It wasn't supposed to be one of the worst days of your life. || Featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 4.5k

TW: angst+++, alteration of canon events, canonical violence, depictions of slaughter and body horror, main character death, Reader's husband dying, suicidal thoughts, graphic murder. Parts in bold are direct quotes from the show. Parts in Italics are direct quotes from preceding chapters. Also, Tommy will take more space in the next chapters.

Notes:

✞ Shorter chapter because it's extremely violent and angsty. Also, I'm super rusty so I tried to write it in a more direct style so it's prolly less poetic and beautiful.

✞ This is chapter 16 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby Ladies Club.

This is what Polly called this unexpected little meeting in the bathroom right in the middle of the rigged fight happening a few rooms away. When you entered the lavatory with Ada complaining about the sparring between Goliath and Bonnie, Aunt Pol was taking a cigarette from the silver case she was holding while Lizzie was fixing her hair.

“I love your messy bun, Heaven.” Lizzie complimented when she saw your reflection in the mirror she was using.

“Thank you Liz. Ada scolded me and decided that it would be a better hairstyle for tonight.”

“You never style your hair except for braids and it’s a fucking shame considering how beautiful and long your white mane is.” The young Shelby sister insisted.

“If you say so,” You snorted, amused, “What are you doing here? Plotting and scheming? Leave these for Thomas.” You smirked, sitting on the edge of a sink with movements as nimble as a cat. Your little cutting remark had the expected effect: the three girls laughed with sincerity, somewhat amused by the beef between you and the family’s boss. They had eventually learned that nothing could ever ease the tension between the two of you, so laughing about the matter was the only thing they could do. A part of you couldn’t help but think that they wouldn’t find it that amusing anymore if they knew the unhealthy turn your mutual hatred had taken.

What did you feel when we kissed? A shiver ran down your spine as you heard Tommy’s husky voice, as charming as venomous, whispering in your ear. It might only have been a memory, but you could almost feel his hot whisky breath brushing your skin.

“Heaven has some news.” Polly’s voice resounded in the bathroom, snatching you from your thoughts.

“Me?” You asked, batting your bambi lashes in incomprehension before the understanding of the situation slapped you right in the face.

“Well, tell her. Now! While the men are screaming for blood.”  Polly sneaked a cigarette between her thin, red lips. 

Your blood momentarily froze in your pale veins for this unexpected pregnancy wasn’t something you wanted to talk about. For sure Aunt Pol didn’t mean to do harm, but the surrounding chaos and your last encounter with Luca Changretta seriously eroded your wish to have a baby. The baby who made you so vulnerable during times that were anything but good. Moreover, a quick glance at Lizzie’s sad and anxious eyes had been enough for you to understand that something was weighing on her shoulders. Something you had guessed for a few days. Something she needed to talk about more than you. The corner of your mouth turned up in a half-smile.

“Well, I discovered something about Lizzie but I think she should be the one making the announcement. Shouldn’t you, Lizzie?” You winked, replacing one of your long white strands of hair behind your pierced ear with a naive pout. Glitters of hope and gratefulness suddenly sparkled in the ocean blue of the secretary’s eyes to whom you replied with a discreet nod before grabbing Polly’s cigarette case.

“I’m up the duff. And it’s Tommy’s.”

You took a long drag on the cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke by your nostrils as the attention was now on Lizzie. Even though Ada almost choked on her sip of gin, she quickly showed interest in the tall woman’s pregnancy. The only one you didn’t fool was old and cunning Aunt Pol who gave you a brief “okay I get it” glance before turning back to Lizzie.

It’s a girl. Call her Ruby. Ruby Shelby. She’ll be a star in a Hollywood movie.

You watched the scene with a light smile floating upon your plump and glossy lips, satisfied by the outcome of your little trick as well as the surprising unconditional support Lizzie was receiving after years of being seen only through her job as a prostitute. Admittedly, the reason behind the little push you gave to Lizzie Stark was purely selfish, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you kind of liked the woman despite never really interacting with her. She got the attention, and you got peace. It was a win-win situation.

“Congratulations, Lizzie.” You said, your siren-like voice as soft as a lazy ocean.

“She’s a real Shelby lady now. Just like you, Devil.”  Polly’s smirk betrayed her amusement. You rolled your eyes teasingly before proudly showing your left hand and wiggling your small fingers to display the magnificent wedding ring Arthur had gifted you.

“What about you Hev? When are you planning to give us a little Arthur?” Ada suddenly asked, Lizzie's news had visibly rendered her sour mood better.

“I think one Arthur is enough for now, don’t you?” You got up from the sink and carefully smoothed the folds your revealing black dress, “Anyway. Ladies, let’s rejoin our gentlemen.”

“I guess the meeting is over.” Ada added with a little chuckle

Joining deeds to words, Polly gently hooked her arm with yours in a motherly gesture and guided you outside, where the crowd’s roars were echoing.

Laughs and cheers filled the room as Johnny Dog put on a show to get more men to bet on the winner of this fight. Swallowing a mouthful of gin, your seraphic traits turned into a wince at the burning sensation the alcohol left in your throat – that new batch was strong, indeed. The sweet taste that exploded on your tastebuds, when the tip of your rosy tongue licked your juicy lips, made you grin, or maybe it was the all-consuming smell of sweat and blood that lingered in the air. It might come off as surprising for other women, but you enjoyed watching fights. There was something brutal but so real about them. After all, humans were just animals wearing suits. Animals which, according to you, had barely learned to speak instead of growling.

Your lips pinched the cigarette as you took another drag you quickly blew, your eyes following blood spurting from Bonnie’s nose and splattering the ground. Although quieter than Polly, Lizzie, and Ada, who were laughing, screaming, and sometimes nudging you in excitement at each violent blow the Romani boy gave back to his opponent, you had a lot of fun. Until a peculiar but familiar feeling blossomed within.

It started with a chill creeping down your spine and ended up with light tremors shaking your frail silhouette. Instinctively, you raised your piercing gaze and searched for Arthur somewhere among the crowded rows of folded seats. Your usual calm demeanor faltered as you noticed that your husband seemed troubled by something, rapidly glancing from here and there, attempting to read the room for whatever reason. He didn’t even pay attention to you, far too busy observing the men that were around the boxing ring. Eventually, Arthur stood up and left, his steel blue eyes fixed on someone he followed through the depths of the building. Let me do my fucking job! That’s what he barked at Tommy, or at least what you thought you overheard.

You frowned as a strange sensation rippled through your mind – like a distant, haunting whisper of something looming, a threat. Nervously swallowing your saliva, your first reflex was looking at Tommy. You couldn’t place it, but the odd feeling gripped you tightly like an omen you couldn’t shake, warning you of an approaching storm. It seemed like little King Shelby shared your inner agitation though, for his mesmerizing turquoise eyes dived into yours with the same nervousness and incomprehension. Whatever the many reasons behind your hatred, you were definitely on the same wavelength at this very moment. The silent conversation, expressed through brief eyebrows and eye movements, was more or less the following:

-Where is he going?

-I don’t know. It’s prolly the booze and the pills.

-It’s not. I’ll check.

-Don’t fucking do that.

You stood up from your seat with a clenched jaw and, feeling the vibration of this bad omen quaking your soul itself, you nimbly snaked in and out through seats and followed Arthur’s steps. As was the case for your husband a few minutes ago, the dark corridor into which you rushed engulfed your ethereal silhouette like a hungry giant.

“Fuck.” Tommy mumbled, straightening on his seat and leaning forward, “Fuck.” He repeated, torn between his own doubts and his disdain for you. Nevertheless, if there was one thing he had learned since you joined the family was that your gut feelings were never wrong. You proved it several times, starting by foreseeing Charlie’s abduction. The dark-haired gangster sniffed and nervously rubbed his chin, his catlike eyes going back on forth between the corridor and the crowd. A few minutes later, Tommy finally left the fighting pit.

Something was definitely off.

Cautiously walking through the maze of dark hallways dimly lit by a bluish light, you tried to ignore the maddening beat of your heart that was drumming so loud you felt it hammering in your temples. You didn’t really know where you were heading, nor where Arthur went, but the more you moved forward, the more this unbearable feeling of dread and panic invaded you. Your aimless wandering came to an end when the strong and metallic smell of fresh blood and the atrocious sight that followed jumped at your face.

No.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw him – your husband, slumped on the ground, blood soaking through the collar of his shirt as it gushed from the wound across his throat.

No!

Time seemed to slow down, and your heart seemed to stop as you took in the scene: the gun the Italian bastard was holding in his steady hand aimed at Arthur’s head.

Panic crashed over you like a tidal wave, washing away everything but the rage that had piled up within you during all these years. In that moment, something primal and destructive snapped inside of you. In a blur of rage and raw instinct, and with a guttural scream that seemed too inhumane to come from you, you launched yourself at the mafioso, who barely had the time to turn around. Another furious shriek escaped from your quivering lips, similar to the rabid screech of a wounded banshee, and with your fingers curled into claws, your sharp nails slashed across his face.  

“PUTTANA!” The man yelled and gasped, taken aback by your unleashed fury.

The mafioso fired with his gun in a desperate attempt to kill you but the brutal impact between your two bodies threw him off balance and the shot reached the wall instead of your brain. As his spine crashed against the tiled ground, Changretta’s henchman dropped the weapon. You gave it a brutal blow to make it slide away from him.

Another wave of insults followed as he realized that he struggled to overpower you. You were fighting like a cornered animal, wild and relentless. Your claws scratched him again and again, leaving raw and jagged lines of blood all over his face. The mafioso's strength was starting to falter as he realized that you weren’t just fighting to win; you were fighting to kill him, your body moved by the instinct of a bloodthirsty beast that refused to be caged.

"Stop it, you fucking bitch!" A scream of utter pain brutally tore the air as, completely out of your mind, you dug your thumbs into his skull, pushing harder and harder in an attempt to gouge his eyes. The Sicilian man produced a second sound so twisted that it seemed beyond anything a human throat could produce. The more you pushed with your thumbs, the more you felt his eyeball turning into a viscous pulp. The feeling of the moist and warm liquid on your fingers didn’t stop you. Nor the man’s wails of pure agony, with its pitch far too high and too broken.

“Ajùtami! Ajùtami!” He pleaded, his hands felt the ground in panic, searching for anything he could use to push you away from him. Anything to make you stop. Realizing that nothing was around him, not even the thread he used to attack Arthur, he managed to overcome the pain and gather his strength to grab your throat.

With your air squeezed, you wheezed and removed your fingers from his skull to claw his strong hands. “S-Stop!” Panic flooded you as your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. The harder you fought, the harder he strangled you. Seriously lacking air, you clawed at his arms, desperate to breathe, but his grip was iron. Now you had to do something and do it quickly if you wanted to have a chance to save Arthur.

Your thoughts raced, frantic, until instinct took over.

I love your messy bun, Hev!

The judas stick – now you had a chance. With one quick movement, you brought your hand to your bun and your fingers fumbled for the sharp metal judas stick that was holding your hair in place. It came in handy. With a choked sound, you drove it upward and sunk the sharp edge of the stick into the man’s side.

One time.

Two times.

Three, four, five, six…

Side, chest, shoulder, face… 

Each impact was vicious and powerful, tearing through the flesh like butter and drilling into organs and bones with the sheer will of maiming your enemy. Hot blood splashed all over you and around, but you didn’t care. The only thing that made you stop stabbing him was when you felt the man’s grip loosen around your throat until his arms dropped on the red-smeared ground in a loud thud.

“Fuck!” You sucked in a sharp breath, your voice hoarse from being choked. However, you quickly got up from the corpse to run to your husband.  “Arthur!” You screamed, rushing to his side, your hands trembling as you knelt beside him – or rather as you dropped to your knees, your legs unable to support your weight anymore. Panic seized you even more violently as you saw Arthur's deep wound and the blood—too much blood.

“No, no, no… not like this,” You whispered, voice cracking. You couldn’t lose him, not here, not now. Never. Your fingers brushed over his chest and, in your deepest desperation, you looked for his pulse. A pulse you found, but which was becoming slower and fainter as seconds flew by. “Arthur! Please!” You started sobbing, tears streaming down your face and mixing with the fresh blood that was painting your skin in a disgusting shade of red. You had to face the truth: Arthur was dying. The damages were too serious and the bleeding too much… But you were a witch. The gift of healing was coursing through your veins. The only problem was that if you tried to save him by using your magic, you’d hurt the baby. After all, that was what happened when you tried to kill Luca Changretta with a heart attack.

The baby.

Your husband or the baby?

Your heart painfully raced in your chest. Your erratic breathing and your sore throat made you feel like you weren’t getting enough air.

 “I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

You could save him. You had to. Despite this torture of a dilemma and the harshness of the decision, nothing could change your mind, not even the feeling of your heart shattering into millions of shards. Closing your eyes, you placed one hand over his throat, the blood warm under your palm, and the other on his chest. Wasting no time, you channel all your strength – the connection sparked, and the raw, untamed magic you inherited from your mother surged through you. It seemed to work at first, his pulse lightly responding to yours.

But the more the magic surged, the more you felt a terrible pain in your belly. It started as cramps but quickly escalated into suffering so high that you felt like someone was stabbing you. A trembling squeal escaped from your red lips. You were killing it, you knew it. You were killing your own baby.

"Come on, come on," You muttered, pushing harder, forcing your will into his body. "Stay with me, Arthur," You whispered, tears streaking down your face, each sentence cut by muffled cries of the mafioso you had slaughtered and who was still alive— not for too long to be honest. He seemed to say something in Sicilian but you couldn't understand what. And you didn't care. "Just... stay with me." You gritted your teeth, doing your best to put up with the pain.

Click.

You froze.

“You nosey little slut. You should've stayed with the others.” 

Your heart missed a leap at the unknown male voice, carried by a thick Italian accent. The mafioso’s colleague looked at you, gun pointed right to your head.

"Remember me?" He asked with a wicked smile, recalling the moment he had offered you a cigarette a few hours ago. During your brief chit-chat, he told you that his name was Damiano but you didn't make the connection between Changretta and his Italian heritage.

“Don't cry, you're going to meet with your husband again very soon." the imposing man added, a few seconds away from ending your life. However, Damiano didn't know what you were capable of. Even less now that you were driven by pure rage and despair.

“Shut the fuck up!” You suddenly yelled, your claws firmly anchored in your husband to make Damiano understand that no one would snatch him from your arms. Your voice, a seductive melody that could enchant like a siren’s song, suddenly sounded monstrous. Raw and primal, the way you screamed the threat echoed in the entire maze of hallways and made Tommy’s blood freeze in his veins, a few corridors away. “Fucking die!”

Damiano didn't know that he never stood a chance. You sealed that man's demise with one blunt arm movement as if you had wanted to chase a mosquito from your face.  

"Wh-What..."

Damiano, fell on his knees next to his dying friend, and writhed on the floor. With his two hands pressing on his chest, he suddenly started to choke and, right after, threw up a great amount of thick blood. Apart from the vomiting, blood soon seeped from his eyes and ears, bubbling like something inside was boiling them alive.

"P-Please!" He begged but you didn't stop. The man obviously tried to scream but the only sound he could produce was disgusting gurgles.

"Don't worry, you're going to meet your friend pretty soon." You replied with a cold and sardonic tone before closing your fist, the man's lungs responding to your gesture by imploding in his chest. Like his colleague's arms did a few minutes ago, Damiano's whole body crashed against the floor with a thud.

Quickly, you shifted back your attention to your husband and kept giving him all your energy while ignoring the black dots that were dancing in front of your eyes, as well as the awful, unbearable stabbing sensation in your core. You were definitely hurting yourself by using your power that much but you didn't give a fuck. “Arthur, please.” You growled, a feeling of dizziness building up so bad that you didn’t even hear the hurried footsteps that were coming closer, nor the hoarse, familiar voice of your brother-in-law.

"FUCK!" You exclaimed. You were losing Arthur again.

The three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

The Peaky Blinder's boss took two steps back and brought his calloused hand to his mouth, fighting against the urge to puke – and God knew it took him a lot considering the atrocities he witnessed and did during the war. His turquoise gaze scanned the room, which had turned into a slaughterhouse. A fucking pool of crimson blood. First, he saw the limp and distorted corpse of Damiano, whose eyes were open wide in horror despite him being dead and cold. The terror in his frozen facial expression left no doubt about how awful his last moments must have been: he had suffered, and he had suffered more than a lot. Then, he caught a quick glimpse of the second victim. With his eyeballs reduced to a reddish foul mush, the lacerations on his face, and the abnormal number of stabbing wounds, the mafioso’s body was so maimed that it looked disgustingly grotesque.

Then he saw Arthur.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and pungent scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

Tommy reacted immediately and knelt near his brother with a panic so uncontrollable that it swept away every ounce of coldness and self-control he usually displayed. He slapped his brother's cheeks several times in a vain attempt to help him come back to a conscious state but it didn't work. Thomas Shelby's fist hit the floor with frustration as the feeling of powerlessness crept into his heart. He was losing another brother and there was nothing he could do to save him.

But you could.

"Heaven, d'ya hear me?"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses saturated with one unique sound: a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

“Oi! Listen to me!” Tommy’s powerful voice suddenly snatched you from your daze just enough time to catch your attention and plunge his turquoise iris into your Arctic eyes.

“I—I can’t. I can’t, I can’t...” You repeated in a whisper, just like a broken record, because your husband’s pulse was weakening again, blind to your exhausting and painful efforts. Arthur was dying, your baby was dying and the intensity of the pain you went through was so insufferable that all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wait for death to make this nightmare stop.

Tommy rapidly shifted his body to be by your side, his sharp eyes focused, but softer than usual. “You’ve got this,” he whispered, meeting your panicked gaze. “Keep going. Don’t stop.” He pressed his hand firmly over yours, steadying the trembling fingers that worked to save his brother. His voice was low, gravelly, but laced with a quiet strength he tried to share with you. His grip was warm, grounding you in the chaos, his presence like an anchor. At that moment, the weight of the world felt momentarily lighter with him by your side. You replied to his help with a muffled sob.

"You've got this!" Tommy tried to keep you from falling apart but the sight of a thin trickle of blood slowly running down your nose worried him almost to death. He looked at you and he knew. He knew that you had given everything – every ounce of your energy to save his brother, your magic now drained. Your hand trembled, still pressed to Arthur’s chest, but the world around you was seriously fading to black.

Caught amid this Hell with Tommy by your side, you didn't hear nor feel Polly, who had found the crime scene.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him,

"We're fucking losing her too!" Tommy exclaimed, "fucking help me!"

"Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream one last time. A haunting and otherworldly wail that pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The smell of blood hid Tommy's musky perfume that was tingling your nostrils. The deafening ringing in your ears covered Polly and her nephew's voice. Your breaths came shallow and weak, your body becoming heavier as darkness crept in. Slowly, your eyes fluttered shut. In one final movement, you collapsed beside your husband, your last thought a silent hope that he would live.

Or that you would at least die trying to save him.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

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