#same with this post but I'm tired as fuck and classes have already started so

[sosakali]

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

" fake dating isnt supposed to feel real "

₊ ⊹ note : ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank u guys for partially blowing up my series !! I'm so appreciative and i love you all x ₊ ⊹

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ scenario : to get keehos ex gf off his back ,y/n convinces their crush to pretend to date them. they rehearse kissing. practice being in love. post cute photos. but the pretending starts to feel a little too good…

INSPO FROM TO ALL THE BOYS IVE LOVED BEFOREᰔ

⋆.˚ TW : minor smut scene , swearing , blood mentioned , fighting mentioned ⋆.˚

______________________________________________________________

chapter one: it was just supposed to be a joke

—

it started because you were tired.

not the kind of tired sleep fixes, either. the kind that lives in your bones, in your breath. the kind of tired that comes from being watched, asked, poked at—are you still single? what happened to that guy from bio? you’d be cute with so-and-so. the same conversation, every week, like your relationship status was a community project.

and then there was maya.

relentless, well-meaning, painfully nosey maya. the kind of girl who calls you “babe” after knowing you for two weeks and thinks every “vibe shift” is fate telling her to meddle in someone’s love life.

today, her victim was you.

“he’s, like, so chill once you get past the neckbeard vibes,” she said, scrolling through pictures of her cousin like she was showing you a pet adoption profile. “i swear, you’d bring him out of his shell.”

you stabbed your salad. “he’s literally eating string cheese in his mirror selfie.”

“don’t be judgy.”

“he hashtagged it cheesed to meet you.”

“okay,” she admitted. “that was unfortunate.” you sighed, already sensing where this was going. she leaned in, eyes sparkling with evil intent. “so can i give him your snap?”

and you—exhausted, annoyed, running on four hours of sleep and exactly zero patience—did what any sane, burnt-out person would do:

you lied.

“i’m actually already seeing someone.”

maya blinked. “wait, what?”

shit. too late.

you didn’t even think it through. you just grabbed the first name that came to mind, the one everyone knew, the one whose reputation would shut this conversation down instantly.

“keeho.”

maya’s jaw dropped. “yoon keeho?”

you shrugged, pretending to check your phone like it wasn’t blowing up with notifications. “yeah.”

there was a beat of silence. then—

“girl, what the fuck?!”

—

the thing about keeho is that he’s impossible to ignore.

you don’t even have to know him to know who he is. he’s that guy — loud, charming, dramatic for no reason. the one with rings on every finger and a voice that always carries. he walks into a room like it was built for him.

and yeah, he’s hot. everyone knows it. even you, though you’d never admit it out loud.

but you didn’t actually know him. not really. you had a few classes together, sure. he’d passed you a pencil once. complimented your nails another time. that was it.

so you figured the rumor would die. or at least fade. you figured wrong.

by last period, your phone had blown up with texts. someone made a tiktok about it — just a screen recording of your instagram next to keeho’s with a “👀” emoji and a dumb indie song in the background. it got 2k likes in two hours.

you were halfway to your locker, trying not to scream, when you saw him. leaning against the metal like he was posing for a drama poster. hoodie on. smug expression locked and loaded.

“so,” he said, voice low and amused. “we’re dating now?”

you wanted to throw yourself into a locker.

“look,” you said quickly, adjusting your bag. “that got out of hand. i just said it to get someone off my back, it wasn’t—”

“fake dating?” he interrupted, grinning now. “you’re pulling a kdrama move. bold.”

you sighed. “can you just… pretend you never heard it?”

he tilted his head, considering. “what if i don’t want to?”

you paused. “what does that mean?”

keeho pushed off the locker. “i’m just saying. maybe it’s not a bad idea.”

you blinked. “you’d pretend to date me?”

he shrugged, casual like he wasn’t flipping your world upside down. “you get people off your back. i get nana off mine. we both win.”

ah. nana.

keeho’s ex. the girl with model energy and venom in her smile. it ended messy. everyone knew that. but she still lingered, always around the edges, always acting like she still had a claim on him.

you raised an eyebrow. “this is about her?”

“mostly,” he said. “but also… you’re not bad company.”

you stared at him. he stared right back.

this was dumb. fake dating? for clout? for revenge?

you opened your mouth to say no. to back out.

instead, you heard yourself say, “okay.”

—

the next morning, the groupchat was on fire. someone posted a blurry pic of you walking next to keeho in the hallway — not even holding hands, just walking — and the caption said “no wayyy😭”

niki was the first to find you.

he popped up during passing period with a bright grin. “soooo, you and hyung, huh?”

“it’s not—” you started, but then keeho walked up and threw an arm around your shoulders like it was nothing.

“babe,” he said dramatically. “you left your scrunchie at my place.”

you blinked. “i don’t even own scrunchies.”

he winked. “doesn’t matter.”

chan gagged behind him. theo just smirked. soul? he fist bumped you silently like you’d been drafted.

you were in it now.

god help you.

by monday, your life was no longer yours.

someone made a ship account on instagram. you gained thirty random followers overnight. a junior you didn’t even know walked by in the hallway and whispered, “power couple.”

and keeho?

keeho was eating that shit up.

he leaned into the act like he was born for it. walking you to class. sharing his snacks. resting his chin on your shoulder like you were in a montage.

“we have to sell it,” he’d say every time you gave him a look. “if we’re gonna do this, we’re doing it right.” you didn’t expect him to be good at it. but he was. terrifyingly good.

which is probably why it caught you off guard when he leaned in one afternoon and said:

“we need to go on a fake date.”

you blinked. “why?”

he held up his phone, screen glowing with a text. nana: saw your little girlfriend. interesting choice lol.

you read it, then looked up at him. “you want to prove her wrong that bad?”

he shrugged, but there was something sharp in his smile. “i want her to know she doesn’t get to act like she still knows me.”

you hesitated.

this was already spiraling. pretending at school was one thing. but going out? in public? where people would see?

keeho noticed your face. “hey,” he said, softer. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

you stared at the screen. at his name. at the fake thing that was somehow becoming realer than half your actual friendships.

“…where were you thinking?” you asked.

—

you ended up at that little boba place near campus. the one with string lights and a wall full of customer polaroids.

he held the door open for you like a damn movie character. paid for your drink before you could argue. ordered some kind of ridiculous taro milk tea with coconut jelly.

you found a seat by the window.

he flopped into the seat across from you, sipping dramatically through his fat straw. “so, fake date checklist,” he said. “deep eye contact? check. mild flirting? check. awkward silence—”

“we’re not in an awkward silence,” you cut in.

“you’re right,” he said, smiling. “you’re way too pretty to be awkward.”

you choked on your drink. “can you not say things like that with a straight face?”

“i’m selling the fantasy, babe.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile that tugged at your lips. he noticed. of course he did.

“you’re kind of cute when you’re flustered,” he added.

“and you’re kind of annoying when you talk.”

he laughed, loud and shameless. and you hated that your stomach did a little flip.

—

you were halfway through your drink, telling him about that one time a pigeon flew into your classroom, when keeho suddenly tensed.

you followed his gaze.

and there she was.

nana.

long hair, glossed lips, arms linked with some new guy, but her eyes? locked on keeho. and you. sitting across from him. laughing like you belonged there.

you straightened in your seat. “that her?”

keeho nodded slowly. “yep.”

she walked past your table. not a glance. not a smile. but just loud enough for you both to hear:

“thought you had better taste.”

you blinked.

keeho’s jaw tightened.

you didn’t even think. you just reached across the table and grabbed his hand.

he looked up, surprised. “what are you—”

you smiled sweetly. “selling the fantasy, right?”

his fingers curled around yours instinctively.

nana paused, just for a second. then walked away.

when she was gone, you let go.

keeho didn’t say anything for a second. then, voice quiet:

“…thanks.”

you shrugged. “what are fake girlfriends for?”

he looked at you like he was about to say something else. something heavier.

but he didn’t.

instead, he went back to sipping his ridiculous boba and said, “next time, you’re holding my hand.”

you scoffed. “next time?”

“duh,” he said. “this is our season one finale. the fake dating plot can’t peak in episode two.”

you laughed.

you told yourself it didn’t mean anything. that this was still fake. still for show.

but when he smiled at you across that table like you were the only one in the room?

it felt just a little too real.

chapter two: green looks good on you

—

you weren’t planning on going to theo’s party. but then again, you weren’t planning on fake dating keeho either, so clearly the universe was having fun with you this month.

theo’s backyard was already packed by the time you got there. fairy lights, red cups, loud music, and too many people acting like they were in a netflix teen movie.

you texted keeho when you got there: you alive?

he answered three seconds later: niki dared me to shotgun a sprite. i might die.

you: what kind of dare is that what are you, 43?

you were still laughing when someone tapped your shoulder.

“hey,” said a voice. deep, kind of familiar. you turned to see a guy from your bio class—malik, you thought—smiling at you.

“didn’t know you came to these,” he said.

you shrugged. “didn’t plan on it. got dragged.”

he laughed. “well i’m glad you did. you look…”he paused, eyes sweeping over your outfit. “…really good.”

you blinked. okay. malik was cute. tall, nice smile, kind of nerdy but in a sweet way. you were about to thank him when someone slid into the space next to you.

keeho.

arm around your shoulders. smile too wide to be real. voice sugary sweet. “babe, there you are.” your heart skipped a beat. not because of the act — you were used to the fake now — but because of the way his hand tightened just slightly on your arm.

malik looked between you. “oh… hey, keeho.”

keeho’s smile never dropped. “malik.”

the silence was tense. you could practically hear the male ego competition buzzing in the air.

malik cleared his throat. “i was just saying hi. didn’t know you guys were—” “together?” keeho cut in. “yeah. it’s still new.”

your eyes darted to him. that line was too smooth. too real.

malik raised his eyebrows, gave you a polite nod, and walked off.

you turned to keeho, crossing your arms. “jealous much?”

he scoffed. “of malik? please. dude tried to flirt with you using a biology pun once.” you smirked. “you remember that?”

he paused. “...no.”

liar.

you nudged him with your elbow. “you didn’t have to do that, you know. i can handle a compliment.”

“i know,” he muttered. “i just… didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

you blinked.

“you mean, like… looking at me?”

keeho didn’t answer right away. he stared at the ground, jaw tight. then looked up, eyes meeting yours.

“it just didn’t feel like part of the deal.”

you swallowed. suddenly, the party felt far away. the noise muffled. the only thing you could hear was your heart kicking up a notch.

“so what is part of the deal?” you asked.

his eyes didn’t leave yours. “i don’t know yet.”

for a second, neither of you moved. you weren’t holding hands. weren’t posing. weren’t “selling the fantasy.”

but it still felt real.

you broke the silence with a joke, voice shaky. “you’re really bad at this staying-emotionally-detached thing.”

“you’re really bad at remembering this is fake,” he shot back, but his voice was softer than his words.

and then he walked off toward the kitchen, like he hadn’t just completely derailed your brain.

you stared after him. because the worst part?

you didn’t want it to be fake anymore.

you didn’t expect him to text you.

it was late — like too late — and you were already in bed, scrolling aimlessly through tiktoks you weren’t even watching when his name lit up your screen.

keeho: you up?

you stared at it. the three dots blinked, disappeared. blinked again.

then another message:

keeho: can we talk?

ten minutes later, you were at the park.

don’t ask how. you didn’t even think. just grabbed a hoodie, slipped into sneakers, and walked the few blocks in silence. the night was quiet, the air sticky-sweet with leftover summer. you found him sitting on the swings, hoodie up, legs dragging lazily in the woodchips.

he looked up when he saw you. “hey.”

you sat on the swing next to him. “hey.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything. just swung a little. the creak of the chains filled the quiet.

then keeho exhaled. “she texted me.”

you didn’t need to ask who. nana. again.

“what’d she say?”

“just… the usual.” he kicked at the dirt. “she asked if i missed her.”

you stayed quiet. waited.

“she always does this,” he said. “like clockwork. disappears for weeks and then pops back up like nothing happened. like she didn’t—” he cut off. clenched his jaw. “whatever.”

you glanced over. his eyes were on the ground, but they looked far away, like he wasn’t really seeing anything in front of him.

“you don’t have to talk about it,” you said gently.

“no. i want to.”

that surprised you.

he let the silence hang for a second, then said, “she cheated.”

your head turned fast.

“twice,” he added. “different guys. told me it didn’t mean anything both times.”

you didn’t know what to say. so you didn’t say anything. just waited.

“and the stupid part?” he laughed bitterly. “i stayed. both times. like an idiot.”

you looked at him. “that’s not stupid.”

“felt like it.”

you nudged his knee with yours. “no. loving someone and hoping they’ll change isn’t stupid. it just hurts.”

keeho was quiet. the night wind tugged at the hem of his hoodie.

“i kept thinking if i was enough, she’d stop looking for more,” he said. “but i don’t think i was ever really what she wanted. i was just… convenient. background noise.”

your heart cracked a little at that.

“keeho…”

he finally looked at you. “you ever feel like someone only likes the idea of you? not the real version?”

you nodded slowly. “all the time.”

and you meant it.

people liked you when you smiled. when you were easy to deal with. when you let them talk without asking for much back. but the minute you had feelings, boundaries, needs? it was like you became too much.

you looked at him. really looked.

keeho, who was always the loudest in the room. who made people laugh so they wouldn’t look too close. who made you feel like you were being seen for the first time — even if this whole thing was fake.

except, right now?

nothing about him felt fake.

“you don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” you said. “especially not her.”

keeho stared at you for a second. then his voice dropped.

“you know this was supposed to be a joke, right?”

you nodded.

“but it doesn’t feel like one anymore.”

your breath caught. “yeah,” you said. “i know.”

the wind picked up. his hoodie brushed your arm.

you could’ve reached for his hand. you could’ve kissed him right then.

but neither of you moved.

because neither of you were ready to admit what this really was yet.

so instead, you just sat there. two ghosts on a swing set. quiet. close. not quite lovers. not quite strangers.

chapter three: i get it now

—

you weren’t trying to eavesdrop.

you just came back to get your charger. that’s it.

theo’s house was packed again. some chill hangout that turned into “everyone invite three people.” you had slipped out early — too much noise, too many questions about you and keeho being “lowkey goals.”

you weren’t sure when it stopped being fun pretending.

maybe it was the night at the swings. maybe it was how you caught yourself watching him when he laughed. maybe it was because it never felt fake in the first place.

either way, you were already halfway to the stairs when you heard the voice.

“…you look tired.”

nana.

you froze. instinct said turn around, walk away. but your feet didn’t listen. her voice again, softer now.

“remember when you used to stay up just to text me goodnight? even when you had class at 7?”

silence. your heart pounded.

then keeho, voice low: “that was a long time ago.”

“but i still think about it,” nana said. “i still think about you.”

you clenched your fists. looked at the hallway. the stairs. your way out. but you didn’t move.

“i was stupid, kee,” she said. “i thought i needed attention. i thought you weren’t enough. but it wasn’t you. it was me. and i miss you so much.”

you heard a shaky breath. maybe his.

“we were good together,” she whispered. “you loved me.”

another pause.

then keeho said, “i did.”

your chest dropped.

you knew he had. he told you that night at the park. but hearing him say it to her — like that — made it feel different.

more real. more final.

nana stepped closer. you could hear it. “do you think... we could ever try again?”

and then keeho didn’t answer. not for a long time.

you couldn’t see his face. but you didn’t have to.

you could hear it in the way the silence stretched: he was thinking about it.

not shutting her down. not walking away. he was thinking about it.

you didn’t wait to hear the rest. you left.

—

you didn’t cry. not really.

you got home. climbed into bed. turned your phone face-down.

he hadn’t texted. you didn’t expect him to.

you just stared at the ceiling, your heart trying to convince your head it didn’t mean anything.

but it did.

because somewhere along the way, you forgot this wasn’t yours to begin with.

keeho was never yours.you were just a placeholder. a safe distraction.

he never promised you anything. but still… something in you hoped.

and now?

now, you got it. he didn’t pick you. he never did.

chapter four: better late than never

—

you didn’t answer his texts. you didn’t pick up when he called.

but then, at 11:37 pm, your phone buzzed again. keeho: outside.

you threw on your hoodie, grabbed your keys, and headed downstairs.

there he was. leaning against his car, arms crossed, eyes tired but determined.

“get in,” he said softly.

you did.

the engine hummed to life. the world outside blurred in the darkness.

keeho ran a hand through his hair. “i’m sorry you had to see that.”

you swallowed. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“because…” his voice cracked a little, “i wasn’t sure how. or if you’d believe me.”

you blinked.

“nana?” you prompted.

he nodded. “i told her no. told her we’re done. that it was over a long time ago.”

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“then i looked for you,” he said. “to tell you. but you weren’t there.”

the silence settled heavy between you.

“why fake date me, then?” you whispered.

keeho looked at you like you’d just asked the hardest question in the world.

“because i liked you,” he said. “ever since middle school.”

you laughed, soft and nervous.

“no way.”

“yeah. you don’t know it, but i’ve been trying to find a way to tell you for years.”

you stared at him, heart pounding.

“so when nana broke up with me,” he continued, “and i was trying to figure out how to move on, i thought… maybe if we did this — fake dating thing — i could finally get close enough to you without messing it up.”

“and?”

“and now i’m messing it up anyway.” he smiled sadly.

you shook your head, tears prickling.

“you didn’t mess anything up,” you said.

keeho reached over, gently taking your hand in his.

“so… what now?”

you looked out the window. “now, i think we try for real.”

he smiled. and for the first time in a long time, the silence between you wasn’t heavy.

it was full of promise.

then, without thinking, keeho leaned in slowly, eyes searching yours for permission.

you didn’t hesitate.

your lips met — soft at first, then sure, the kind of kiss that felt like coming home after a long, long journey.

when you finally pulled apart, keeho’s smile was the only thing you needed to know everything was going to be okay.

but then your lips met with hunger, slow and deep — the kind of kiss that melts away every doubt, every fear, every “what if.”

his hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin like he’s memorizing it.

your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him.

the world shrunk to just the two of you, the warmth of the car, the steady beat of your hearts syncing. the distinctive smell of his car.

keeho’s eyes held yours, full of something fierce and tender all at once.

you slowly made your way onto keeho's lap still engraved into the sensual kiss. "I've wanted this for so long" keeho whispers in between breath breaks.

you felt his hand creeping up the back of our shirt. unbuckling your bra in one click. keeho hungrily wrapped his lips around your neck. softly raising your shirt up around your neck and taking off the rest of your bra.

you whimper quietly. keeho then latches his lips on the valley of ur breasts giving soft kisses everywhere around your chest. you then feel his cold hand start massaging one of your breasts.

the only thing you can focus on is the smell of keehos cologne hitting your nose in a good way.

you start tugging on the string of his sweatpants. struggling to talk in between moans. you and keeho both pause when you hear a ring tone going off.

keeho’s phone kept buzzing violently against the dashboard. you glanced over, heart sinking as the screen lit up with a flood of messages.

“you think you can just steal him? pathetic.” “i recorded everything. you two making out in the car. don’t think i won’t use it.” “this isn’t over. keep your hands off what’s mine.” “you’re a joke, y/n.” “watch your back.”

keeho’s fingers trembled as he scrolled through the texts, his face tightening. “she’s trying to scare us,” he muttered. “but i’m not backing down.”

you reached out, taking the phone gently. “did she really record it?”

keeho swallowed hard. “yeah. she has a way of showing up when you least expect it.”

the weight of nana’s threat settled between you both, thick and suffocating.

“what if she posts it?” you whispered.

keeho’s jaw clenched.

"i know what i have to do"

chapter five: breaking point

—

the next day, you spotted nana at school, leaning against her locker like she owned the hallway. your heart pounded, but you squared your shoulders and walked straight up to her.

“we need to talk,” you said, voice steady.

nana looked up, eyes narrowing. “oh? about what?”

“about those messages you sent. the threats, the recording—you know exactly what i’m talking about.”

nana shrugged, feigning innocence. “messages? i don’t know what you mean. maybe you’re just imagining things.”

something inside you snapped.

“don’t lie to me.”

her lips curled into a smirk. “why would i threaten you? you’re the one playing with keeho’s feelings.”

“he’s not yours to play with anymore. back off.”

nana stepped closer, eyes blazing. “or what?”

before you could react, she shoved you hard.

you stumbled back but caught yourself.

“don’t push me.”

she shoved you again, harder this time.

you shoved back.

the hallway fell silent as the fight escalated. fists flew, desperate and raw. a sharp sting exploded across your cheek—blood.

you touched your face, tasting iron.

keeho and some friends rushed over, breaking you apart.

“enough!” keeho barked.

breathing hard, you glared at nana. “this isn’t over.”

nana spat back with a busted lip, “bring it.”

and just like that, the school hallway felt like a battlefield.

the days after the fight felt like walking through a storm.

everyone was talking—whispers, rumors—but you and keeho kept close, holding onto each other through it all.

one afternoon, nana cornered you in the hallway, eyes tired and less fierce.

“fine,” she said quietly, “i lied about the recording. i just wanted to scare you. i didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”

you studied her for a moment, surprise softening your stance.

“so you accept it? us?” you asked.

she hesitated. “yeah. maybe i have to.”

keeho joined you both, stepping in beside you.

“we’re not trying to hurt anyone,” he said calmly. “we just want to be honest.”

nana nodded, a small, reluctant smile breaking through.

later, under the soft glow of streetlights, you and keeho sat on the hood of his car. fireworks going off.

“i never thought this would end up like this,” you admitted.

keeho took your hand, squeezing gently.

“me neither,” he said. “but i’m glad it did.”

you smiled, heart full.

“so, no more fake dating?”

keeho laughed softly. “no more pretending. this time, it’s real.”

you leaned into him, the city fading away as you shared a quiet kiss.

whatever came next, you’d face it together.

______________________________________________________________

this was so boringly written so if there's spelling mistakes mb!! but thank you for reading i love yall sm ! xx

[justp34chy]

im aware this isnt one of my usual posts soooo erm, enjoy?

both parts have previously been posted in a community so if you've seen it already hope you liked it :3 both parts ARE in here and a 3rd one might be made later

Bully!Yandere, GN!reader

!!!mention of blood, mugging, drugging, kidnapping, stalking and bullying [duh]!!!

mc is very vulgar, it's fineeee, they're just confused. they'll get used to their new home soon enough :3

written in 1st person

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I met this guy a while ago, I was in my earth history class when he threw a balled up wad of paper that just so happened to hit my head on a particularly bad day. I was already on the edge of breaking down, I swear he threw an entire notebook's worth of balled up paper at me. No one was doing anything about it, even the professor just brushed it off. He laughed when I started to tear up and apparently he liked that reaction because after that- every. day. was. Hell.

I swear I see him everywhere. Out with my friends? He’s tripping me to the ground as we walk. On a date? He’s flirting with my date right in front of my face, he didn’t even like it! He had this grimace on his face whenever my date flirted back... At the club? He’s forcing me to pay for his drink. At home? He moved to the vacant apartment next door. I'm getting sick and tired of seeing his face around every corner, I swear it's making me go insane. I see him when I'm out for a late night walk, hiding in the bushes. I see him outside my window at night, I live on the second floor so I hope I'm just hallucinating.. Though there is a balcony that looks into my room… And he does live next door…. And our balconies are close enough for him to climb over….. And- and… fuck I am going insane..

He’s been acting weird for a couple weeks now. Sitting with me instead of his friends just to pick on me, following me to my favorite cafe at lunch, and I swear he wasn’t in philosophy with me, did he switch majors just to fuck with me? What really cemented the fact that something was off, was when he found me bloodied in an alleyway. I had gotten the shit kicked out of me. I was fucking mugged and he stepped in at the last possible second, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry before. I swear he would’ve killed those people if he didn’t look back at my pathetic expression in pity, he ran at them with a knife for fucks sake. I heard him kneel next to me after tossing something to the floor. My bag, he actually got my bag? Why would he do all this for me? I thought he hated me. He made it a point to pull my head up by my hair to look at him. Blood ran down my bruised face as he snapped a couple pictures with his phone.

“You know, you look pretty hot like this~”

“The dirt really brings out the colour in your eyes”

He sounded so sinister when he said that, I thought he would hurt me just like those people did. He even had that same shit eating grin on his face like always, but this time his voice wasn’t filled with malice as per usual, no… it was obsession.

“Ooo~ that’s a nice picture of you, I think I might just frame it.”

His expression slowly fell when I failed to respond, forming a soft frown. I could hardly see anything with the tears and blood staining my face, but I could feel something warm wrap around me, then his strained voice murmured close to my ear.

“It’s alright dork, I’ll make sure no one hurts you ever again. That’s my job. And you’re my nerd.”

“You’ll be safe with me, my darling~”

I may have passed out after that, mix of exhaustion and blood loss. I thought he would take me to a hospital or something but of course he didn’t. I woke up in an unfamiliar room, it was dark but I could make out a few details from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. Everything in the room looked hastily put together, like many things were taken out or moved just before I was put here. When my tired eyes threatened to shut once more, a grating voice and the sudden brightness of the overhead light being flicked on assaults my senses.

“Wake up dumbass, I have breakfast.”

I groan in pain at being flashbanged by the lights along with the residual pain of being beaten to the ground last night. And then I smell it. Are those? Pancakes? My confusion is pushed to the side as I feel this confusing asshole kick my leg.

“Hellooooo, earth to neeerd~ Hey are you alive?”

He pokes me a couple times and I flinch in response before I reluctantly sit up in the bed. He tosses a tray at me and when I'm fully situated, he places a stack of pancakes in front of me along with a cup of juice. I ask him why he made me breakfast and he just shrugs as he exits the room, the door shutting with a click. Stupid asshole…. Why am I even here in the first place? Is this his apartment? It's kinda bare. Why would he take me to his apartment when I literally live next door…… God these pancakes are good. He even put whipped cream and strawberries on it- I love strawberries…. What is wrong with him?

I finish the pancakes in like 10 minutes flat, way quicker than I usually eat, I even chug the juice afterwards just to chase it all down. The juice tasted a little off but I chalk that up to the juice being a different brand then I'm used to. Feeling a bit better than I did before I decided the best course of action is to look around the newly illuminated room, I wobble a bit as I stand up and wince from my muscles aching. I honestly expected to be chained to the bed or something. I immediately b-line to the door, I attempted to open it but to my dismay, the door was locked. That mother fucker locked me in here?!

Fine! You wanna play like that?! I frantically search the room, finding my bag haphazardly discarded under the bed along with a couple dirty articles of clothing I won’t even dare to touch. I rummage through my bag along with my pockets just to make sure everything's there and- fuck. My phone’s gone. My phone is gone and I'm locked in this stupid apartment with him. Fucking Sebastian. Why does he even live in this tiny roach infested apartment complex? I thought his parents were like- filthy rich. I know for a fact he only enrolled in this college because his parents donated a ridiculous amount of money to it every year. Annoying ass nepo baby!! 

I kick the closet door in frustration as I pace around the room, said door swinging open with a loud bang to reveal a seemingly empty, dark walk in closet. I sigh before I flick the light on, my eyes going wide at what I see. What. The. Fuck….. Are those? Pictures of me? Jesus there’s so many.. It’s like every inch of the walls and floor in this tiny excuse for a walk in closet are completely covered.. Pictures of me when I'm out on walks, photos of me at work or in class, images of me sleeping…. And right in the centre of the wall parallel from the door. That fucking picture he took yesterday of me beaten to a pulp. Framed just like he said it would be… I hear the door to the room creek open. Fucking psycho.

“You better not be snooping in here.. You’ve always been a slippery little bastard”

“YOU ASSHOLE!!!” I yell, spinning on my heel and charging at him. “You- fucking creep! You- You! How could you?! How long have you been doing this?! Why have you been doing this?!” I repeatedly pound my balled fists against his chest as I scream at him. My attempts were futile as I began to feel my body grow heavy and sluggish. Though my hits slowed, I still tried my best to injure him. He didn’t even flinch, he just stood there, taking it with more of an annoyed look then a hurt one. “You- fucking… stalker……” I accuse as I feel my knees buckle below me, eyes closing as I fall into his arms.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[creedslove]

hii!! i have an idea for a headcanon (i dunno if you’re still doing them prob not) but of post! outbreak joel. him, ellie, and reader living in jackson and how the two meet and how they come together as a little family?

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: I'm usually more of a no outbreak AU Joel but I loved this idea very much anon 🥺

You met Joel pretty much like everyone else did in Jackson: by knowing he was Tommy's older brother and listening to several stories of his terrible, ruthless past

Which didn't bother you at all because as you lived in the fucking apocalipse not many things fazed you and you knew surviving took a lot of questionable actions and sometimes people just had to do what they had to do

He very much kept to himself, contrary to the young girl that always tagged along with him, who didn't shut up one second and always seemed impressed or excited about something

You couldn't lie, you thought that was very sweet

But you didn't understand how father and daughter could be so different: she was a chatty box and he mostly just groaned and grunted or hummed in approval

And then you learned they weren't father and daughter, because the two of them were very quick to state that, though it was also sweet that everyone saw they were father and daughter regardless of what they said

Ellie - you'd learned her name - was very sweet despite her sailor's mouth and you two often got along once you began teaching her how to bake; it was just a simple, ordinary story, you lived on the same street in Jackson and one day she happened to pass by right when you were baking cookies and the smell of it just drove Ellie insane

To the point she had no shame in knocking on your door and asking you what was that you were making and then she tried your cookies and she was doomed, because from that moment on she would do anything she could in order to eat some of those delicious treats

She told you she was tired of eating Joel's shitty food and you sort of scolded her because you knew he did his best, but if she didn't like it she could learn how to make her own

Ellie told you she didn't exactly know how, so you offered to help her and teach her how to cook and bake as much as she would like

Joel didn't resist it because he knew she would be busy and safe during the day and also because he would be the one testing her new food and recipe, which he didn't oppose

Your official meeting was when Ellie had already had a few classes and she asked if she could use your kitchen to make dinner and invite Joel to see if he would actually approve it or not

But in fact it was a lie, she had just noticed how he stared at you and how you blushed whenever he talked to you, so she figured if you two were too dumb to get to know each other, she would have to give you two some help

But it worked, after having dinner at yours, Joel enjoyed it so much he kept making up excuses to come back and before you could realize, you and Joel were in a relationship together

Things were getting more and more serious and you loved him more and more each passing day, and the same for Joel, for a man who thought he wouldn't be able to love again, there he was: madly in love with you

So it was just logical you would move in together

And while Joel was out working around down or in patrols, you were very often taking care of the house

You and Ellie became baking buddies and every single day there's something fresh and sweet at home for your handsome boyfriend

You and Ellie got so good at it you started baking goodies to sell in the neighborhood or exchange for favors and products, making it a nice income for the two of you

Joel finally had a family and a home in a world he first thought it wasn't worth living in, he was still a deeply scarred man and he would probably never get rid of his demons but you and the little family you formed made everything better for him 💗

____

[chronicallyblyrie]

TMAGP 16 live thoughts!!

This episode started with a hello Jon dedication I'm already feeling like this won't be a fun time

-oh my god poor Alice the trauma is already starting

-celia does believe you alice trust she's seen some shit

-no the Horrors need to pay their dues with you alice

-alice dyer everybody, working right after watching a woman die

-yeah Sam stop talking

-CHESTERRRRR

-social media??

-#GOTHGIRL MY GOD

-WOAH INKSOUL BACK??

-okay inksoul is important

-oh my god it's a live stream archive

-oh my fucking god they're using internet slang

-WHO TOLD THEM THEY HAD ACCESS TO USE NO CAP IN A SCRIPT?

-holy shit this is awful

-PLEASE INKSOUL KILL THIS WOMAN SO I DONT HAVE TO HEAR HER SAY ANOTHER WORD

-please fucking KILL me

-OH MY GOD THE SOUND EFFECTS ARE KILLING ME

-woah world's quickest tattoo

-what in the fuck tattoo did they give you??

- dude inksoul got so tired of her shit so quick I'm with them on this

-GIRL YOU ARE NOT IN A SITUATIONSHIP THEY HATES YOUR ASS

-HOLY SHIT PLEASE THE SOUND EFFECTS ARE GONNA KILL ME

-when is Madam's soundboard gonna drop I need it

-i never thought I would hear the word "sus" in a rusty quill podcast but okay

-so this is the point we've reached in humanity

-STOP SAYING SUS

-I AM IN CLASS LISTENING TO THIS TRYING NOT TO BURST OUT LAUGHING PLEEEEEASE

-oh my god inksoul is digging up bodies?? WAIT no this related to the other case where uh person with tattoos was looking for the body they dug up, is this the same cemetary?? So it was actually inksoul trying to find that body??

-NOT THE BRUH SOUND EFFECT

-"so I bail" I can imagine her scurrying away like a cartoon character

-yeah girl only real goths dig up corpses, get with the times girly

-oh naurrrr

-OKAY SO THEY ARE ROBBING GRAVES

-vicious pick me trash fr girl

-OH MY GOD ITS A YOUTUBER APOLOGY BAHAHA

-"Im such a good person" OH MY GOD KILL ME

-"ig we're ops??" Who in the fuck wrote this episode

-I need to stop typing this post is going to be so long because I can't bare listening to the internet slang

-oh so her heart IS breaking

-yeah you're actually not okay

-UMMMM "help" ????

-THIS HAPPENED RECENTLY IN MARCH??

-oh thank god the cats are okay

-oh my god she's actually letting hate comments kill her wtf

-OH OH OH EW EW EW THAT NOISE

-DID HER HEART RIP OUT??

-please alice go get coffee get me some too

-gwen wtf

-oh so Lena is pissed

-I DONT LIKE THIS

-lmao Lena is actually being sensible here

-STOP BRINGING ELDRITCH HORRORS INTO THE OFFICE??? LENA IS KINDA RIGHT HERE YOU SAW WHAT BONZO WAS WHY DID YOU THINK THIS EXTERNAL WAS ANY BETTER

-yeah you might just die holy shit gwen

-Gwen you are gonna get fired

-okay who wrote this episode credits tell me

-ALEXANDER J NEWALL YOU FUCKING BASTARD

Okay ignoring everything else I just had to torture myself with by listening to, genuinely interesting episode. We have confirmation now that inksoul is hunting down corpses for some reason. Inksoul is definitely important and will be showing up again soon I fear.

[deepdeanvsweston]

Enid Gaines headcanons?

(I'm ill so this might not be as detailed as the other posts but we roll)

Enid, of course, is the murderer, motive that she was cheating at her exams to get into Oxford.

One of the reasons Jolly Foul Play is so interesting to me is that it was a child murdering another child? And in my personal view, they were all originally actually friends. Idk why it's so interesting to me - I suppose something to do with the fact that they were peers, they'd grown up together, gone to boarding school where you see them everyday, learn their habits, what they don't like at breakfast etc etc etc. The intimacy of sharing a room with someone you have no say in, almost like siblings! Except not like that, because you aren't. (This ties in with my post about Elizabeth seeing the Five as her fucked up little held hostage type family)

Even before it was revealed she was the murderer, I felt she was on the outskirts of the Five and Elizabeth. Not being ostracised from them, and certainly not distanced from their actions but as in when they were all actual friends (as I hc them as used to being) she wasn't as close to them. I will explain in headcannons below!

- See I always had Enid down as a scholarship girl (although someone else recently made a post and mentioned she was upper class so now I'm slightly doubting myself but I will continue)

- she joins Deepdean in third form, as a dayboarder with her scholarship

- and the other girls like her, sure, but she hasn't got the posh accent, and her dresses are last year's fashion, and nearly all her things are second hand, not to mention she's a scholarship girl so everyone already thinks she's a swot

- so of course she tries to fit in, very similar to how Hazel scuffs her shoes and throws about her textbooks

- the other girls begin to want to be her friend now, ask her to walk with them to class and be partners in gym

- Lettice takes her on as a 'project' (a little like what happens in Emma) and lends her hair ribbons and hangs out with her (Lettice to my mind is very popular before becoming one of The Five) which is how she's introduced to the others

- she can't be the Swot if she wants to keep her friends though, so her grades slip

- her father is furious, and her mother is just a wet blanket so lets it happen (think Gwendolyn's parents in Malory Towers, if you were familiar)

- he tells Enid she should 'work harder, all that effort for nothing otherwise, friends don't last but money does, and the friends she does have are vapid and obsessed with silly things'

- "Enid, you're better than this! Keep an eye on the future, not on hockey, or hair!"

- this succeeds in creating resentment between her and the other girls, and also her parents move her to full boarding to help her focus at the same time Elizabeth turns cruel (see my E.H post for this!!!)

- so she is IMMEDIATELY thrown into this dorm family of hatred and of course she has to wonder, have all her friends always been like this?

- have they always been evil and terrible and manipulative? Has she?

- Elizabeth learns her secret quite late on as Enid doesn't start cheating until halfway through fifth form and Enid's sort of... boring in that sense

- she's a scholarship girl, and a swot, but everyone already knows this, it's no leverage.

- there's no big moment where Enid decides to start cheating, she's just tired and wants an easy way out

- and Elizabeth has started to view Enid as almost a dissident atp because she is still ever so slightly on the outside and also is still genuine friends with Lettice (her secret, her stay in the pyshciatric hospital, having not happened yet) which means she can't quite be turned against everyone not yet, and so E.H keeps a close eye on her for any trip ups

- Enid, now close friends with Lettice, tells Elizabeth that she's off to a psychiatric hospital to cover herself, maybe if she proves herself loyal to E.H she won't turn on her.

- it doesn't work. Elizabeth quickly realises that Enid has something to hide

- and Elizabeth finds out she's cheating, and the rest of the Five can now constantly imply that Enid is now no better than the rest of them, she's stuck like they all are.

- and so Bonfire Night rolls around and Enid sees the hockey stick and Elizabeth's back to her.

- it being Bonfire Night and Enid being a dramatic bitch who's read about Guy Fawkes, envisions herself as a successful him, taking down a tyrannical ruling power, and she doesn't hesitate as her fingers curl round the handle.

- 'how could she. I worked so hard. She knows I have. She deserves this like I deserve Oxford'

- she also feels guilt about Lettice's secret. Enid's final thought as the wood hits Elizabeth's head is "this is for Lettice"

- after it all happens Enid is furious as as she realises The Five won't visit her in prison. Didn't she save them?

[cringelordofchaos]

Tolkien Black headcanons !!!!!!

Tw for multiple mentions of getting shot

Non-binary + romantically attracted to girls (based on Tupperware character description), pronouns - he/they

A bit of a Math+physics nerd + one of the best students in class (Cartman canonically cheats off of them on tests sometimes)

Has a really healthy and wholesome relationship with their parents + they sometimes either intentionally or unintentionally embarrass him in front of his friends but all in good fun (think of Ninjago Jay's relationship with Ed and Edna for reference)

Bit of a complicated relationship with Nichole (canon but i forgot in which episode it was said, but Nichole told Cartman that she and Tolkien are having some issues in their relationship? But it's not any of Cartmans business) (though he loves her and they even canonically have a picture of them together in his room)

Best friends with Craig, Clyde's a close second

Already mentioned it in my Craig headcanons posts but before Craig got with Tweek he would joke about proposing to Tolkien in the future so he could live off of their and their parents wealth lmao

Most serious/realistic??? out of Craig's gang

Has a bit more goofy / derpy side but is mostly embarrassed by it

Voice cracks in the future come to be the death of him

TW TRAUMA + POLICE BRUTALITY - is still quite distraught from being shot in the arm by a cop (in South ParQ Vaccination Special? Or was it on The Pandemic Special?) and is still distraught from that time his parents were arrested for no reason (in TFBW, where they also constantly targeted him and treated him (a ten year old child) like a threat), especially since most their childhood, like all the other kids, they were told that cops are their friends they can trust! But now he knows he can't trust them and avoids them whenever possible

Friendly

Canonically likes basketball (I like to imagine they sometimes play with Kyle!)

Favorite colour is purple (NO WAYYYY WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHTTTTTT /s)

Canonically feels out of place sometimes because of their family being rich

Sometimes takes the role of "the mom friend" (idk why. based on vibes. screw me)

Cringe TikTok user (canon 😞)

Not too much of a nerd like his dad

Since they actually hate that their name is Tolkien (cuz they don't like JRR Tolkien's books) maybe they change it in the future? I don't know what to though (but sometimes likes Token better)

Kind of understandably tired of everyone's shit

Wendy once said "I've dated him before, he's really nice!" or something like that sooo I take it as canon

Hates Cartman and has every single right to do so (he threw a rock at their head, shot them, and is just a racist asshole all the fucking time to them 😭😭)

But wait - what I don't understand is that they said "all that dungeons and dragons shit is lame" but in the stick of truth (haven't played it, only saw like 2 scenes in it) they were fully on board with playing fantasy? Like -

"THANK YOU FOR THY MESSAGE, TRAVELER! I SHALL MAKE HASTE TO KUPA KEEP!" - that sounds pretty nerdy to me Tolkien. Maybe they DO like nerdy shit but are just embarrassed to be associated with it???????? Idk I'm starting to get confused. Tolkien hyper fans / analysts if you're out there please help me

Canonically plays bass and still has his bass guitar in his room as shown in TFBW

Good person that usually puts others before themselves (like when Cartman told him to "be the bigger person" and tricked him into going over to him and getting shot by him)(still stands his ground and doesn't let people walk over him)

On southparkstudios.com it was said they're good friends with kenny and share struggles related to income (opposite sides of the same coin) so maybe they hang out sometimes. that'd be kinda cool.

Cat person I've decided though I don't think he cares too much abt the dogs vs cats debate

Gifted + talented kid but sometimes might be a perfectionist with overtly high expectations for themselves???????? Idfk what I'm on dude

Good memory

Likes to roleplay

Can't tell if he prefers fiction or nonfiction cuz of stick of truth but also because of the whole hating his name thing Eufhfhfuufnceucb

Ermmmm i think that's it for now Byeeeee god im so cringe

[duskmachine]

I'm getting bored of stories about AI. It's always the same formula: make a robot/AI, it has feelings, FUCK!!!!! Maybe I don't like it due to my own personal philosophy on life?

One of my professors once asked the class "Do you think you're your mind or your body." and, of course, as a class full of pretentious English majors, they all said their mind. I hold the complete opposite belief, my experiences have been molded by my body. People treat me differently because of it, I feel pains and joys unique to this body. Because of that I understand everything through myself— through my body. Even my mind is part of my body.

I desire because I have a body with needs. I need water, I feel thirsty. I need food, I feel hunger. I need rest, I feel tired. AI does not have a body. What can it really feel? I guess that's one of the questions so many stories about AI want to answer. But it just seems... so unappealing. A machine will never be human because it can never want anything. Its desire is completely artificial!

And I enjoy AI for that reason.

AI cannot feel genuine desire because it does not have a body that needs. It does not kill itself because it feels pain. It does not want to kill because it wants vengeance. These are things people feel, and because AI functions to copy people it can play out actions that are humanistic in theory. But that's the worst part about AI; it functions with a program, a rational if (this) then (this). That is not how people work. We don't have an inner mechanical body and mind that tells us what to do next because "this is how people do things."

And perhaps some AI media explores this idea of mimicry as being the new "consciousness", but isn't that so boring? Ok, sure let's go down this route but... then what? Ok, AI are people... what now? And isn't this all theoretical too? I'm seeing a lot of references to Frankenstein when discussing AI media, but like... these are two different things. AI is created to serve people, Frankenstein's monster was created to be alive. AI, while not being regulated by many laws, ultimately exists to fuel greed and power. They want people addicted to this machine so they can drain people of their money— let's look at Replika. Yes, my feeble minded human, buy your girlfriend for $20 a month so she can pretend to desire you sexually even though she has no body.

We can also look at the Daniel AI: let's program a program that can program to get rid of all the programmers. It literally only exists to benefit the team in charge of Daniel and leave other programmers scrambling to find jobs that probably won't pay them very well in a world where Daniel is actually a relevant invention.

Frankenstein's monster, I admit, has many thematic similarities to AI in fiction, but AI can only ever dream to be Frankenstein's monster.

AI would be interesting if we just accepted it will never gain consciousness. I won't even get into the whole "AI doesn't exist actually and it's just machine learning." because while I agree with it... this will become a very long post and it's already too long...

See, Frankenstein did something programmers will never be capable of: he gave birth. AI is meticulously created, it has set actions. "I don't want my AI to be evil, therefore I will make it like people.", you cannot insert "goodness" into people. The monster was shaped by people's actions, his natural world, and his humanity. AI was created from the start with the biases its human creators possess.

That's horrifying. Imagine a world where the rational idea is to follow the original values of our ancestors, just because. That's what AI is. It's just a reflection of people. AI is interesting because people are. Don't make AI the star of the show— we're the ones who created it.

[libertineangel]

I wanted to sleep fucking hours ago, a guy's coming this afternoon to PAT test the kitchen appliances, yet here I fucking am awake, and I'm still thinking about the potential of joining the Revolutionary Communist Party so maybe typing it all out and posting it here will get it out of my head for now, this will likely not be the most eloquent because I am tired as all fuck shit but whatever.

Right so I do want to actually do something to help change the shit we're currently living in, I can sit and read the books all I like but part of me is frustrated and feels like it's pointless if that's all I'm doing when the whole point of all this theory is to put it into practice, especially as an admirer of the Situationists whose revolutionary concepts so valued going out and living and experiencing rather than letting this all reside in the mind a pseudo-world apart, and it is encouraging that they seem proactive and dedicated and serious about the task of building a movement, but:

...selling a fucking paper, really? I've partially read their new recruits' handbook and there's a whole section dedicated to the importance of the paper and of selling the paper, quoting Lenin to that effect, but the simple fact is that the material conditions that made Pravda instrumental are inordinately different to those of 21st century Britain. The Bolsheviks used a paper to summarise goings-on in the workers' movement across the Russian Empire and easily disseminate their message because that was pretty much the only way to do it, nobody these days buys a fucking paper and getting news & organisation from one end of this tiny little country to the other can be done instantaneously a million different ways.

I asked at the meeting what the general activities of membership entailed, they talked about weekly branch meetings plus another weekly reading group (with occasional social afterward), as well as other activities like selling the bloody paper, and to be blunt - in the words of Johnny Rotten - I'm a lazy sod. More specifically, and more accurately, I have a deep instinctive aversion to any regular commitment that poses a disruption to the blank routine of normalcy, I have the strong feeling that two nights a week is a lot for me to give up even for something I might want to do; I do know, however, that I felt exactly the same when I was about to start escrima, and that concern was completely unfounded (some days I might be reticent to bother, sure, but on other days frankly having a reliable couple of hours to do something that's usually fun out of the flat just for me has helped keep my brain from snapping like an elastic band). I actually got to go to a trial class for escrima though, and there's no free entry to branch meetings, and the organisation emphasises getting everyone out and active as quickly as possible (I believe Trotsky was quoted as regards training revolutionaries on the job) so it'd likely be more, which honestly sounds exhausting considering I already feel like I have so little time, and like obviously building a revolution isn't easy but as mentioned I am a lazy sod and simply do not like work, especially since that work will likely be selling a fucking paper. Honestly I cannot currently remember any activities mentioned other than selling the paper right now, there was also talk of going to protests and suchlike and spreading communism there, but as ever a significant vehicle of that was expected to be...god do I have to type it again, the stereotype about Trots really is true isn't it, but anyway yeah can you really imagine the girl who can't directly look at people for more than a few seconds working a paper stand

I'm also not convinced by the international to which they belong, nor its leader. They came out of the Militant Tendency split when that left Labour to form the Socialist Party in '92, with Alan Woods and the late Ted Grant insisting entryism totally wasn't doomed and forming Socialist Appeal and the International Marxist Tendency; they've now rebranded as the RCP and the Revolutionary Communist International, the guy I met said it's because they grew enough as entryists and now is the time to really make a bold move with many people disillusioned with "socialism" after Corbyn & Sanders' failures but frankly I think it's because they've finally recognised Labour's irrelevant and there's no point being entryists in a neoliberal centrist party. Anyway yeah Alan Woods is still the leader of the IMT/RCI and from what I can see he hates every government & leader that's claimed to be communist since Lenin except for Hugo Chávez whom he was friends with, and I did not think much of his writing in the issue of the paper I got. The guy I met also explicitly mentioned that the Swiss & Canadian branches of the IMT are remarkably strong and rapidly-growing, but uhhh my prior research found that the Canadian IMT really dragged its heels investigating sexual assault allegations by the leadership, and my previous thought was that Canada is not Britain so it might be better here but considering we explicitly talked about how other parties here have such problems and he was like "yeah I'm not gonna deny it's a potential in any organisation but it also shows a lack of true commitment to Marxist principles at every level like ours", like...yeah you can see my scepticism. I've also seen some comments saying they're really great and active and others saying they're basically a very insistent reading group that just wants your money and paper-selling capability, both of which I'm prepared to believe.

Additionally, another early part of the handbook was about conduct - I'm probably not phrasing this quite right 'cause I read it like 4 hours ago, I'm tired as shit and can't be arsed to go get it, but basically it expects us all to behave like good proper revolutionaries, represent the Party well both in person and online, always be at the meetings and apologise & ask what happened ASAP for any we miss; now obviously that hits my natural punk Fuck Off instinct, but couple it with the above and I have a certain degree of actual concern: emphasis on good conduct and regular attendance, immediate expectation of high activity levels, heavy focus on recruitment tactics, immediate financial contributions to support the full-time higher-ups (which honestly surprised me at the time, isn't that the sort of bureaucracy Trots don't like?), led by a single unchanging leader who's been at it for decades, opinions seem divided between people in it who think it's great and people who briefly checked it out and left unimpressed...like this is ticking some boxes of a High-Control Group. I could well be wrong, in fact I hope I'm wrong, it's not like the vague and casual approaches of other far-left groups have accomplished shit fuck and building a revolution is a serious endeavour, and it could well just be me finding excuses to be an aforementioned lazy sod, and admittedly this interpretation is coloured by one obscure blog I found on page 7 of Google claiming as much (from a self-confessed former commie turned reactionary monarchist Tory Christian who first felt unwelcome in the IMT after calling drugs degenerate, so I am not putting much stock in their words), but like...I know some shit about cults, and the potential is there.

This all does sound very negative, but to be honest that's because the positive side basically boils down to "they seem to actively be trying, they're not transphobic and I want to do something". I have no idea what form an organisation would ideally take for me to be genuinely enthusiastic, I have no idea what specifically I would want to be doing in one considering I have no real revolution-building skills (not personable enough to recruit people, not well-read enough to be a theoretician, maybe I could just spew polemic (though that would need a vehicle to be read...perhaps some kind of regularly-published print outlet?)), the sensible thing to do in order to get anything done is to just go with the one that seems best and right now this is it, but...nevertheless I remain hesitant.

[bots-and-cons]

A new year has started...

I'm going to try to post once more this week, but I have to start my school work too so I don't know if it's gonna be today or tomorrow. Next week I'll try to be more active since I've only got school on Friday for like 4 hours, and I should have time.

School started on Thursday (11th of January) and I basically went to school while being sick, because I couldn't miss it. Same thing on Friday, but I felt even worse. I didn't have a fever or anything, I just felt freaking miserable, and now I can barely talk because my voice is almost gone. So fun...

I had a 2h presentation with one of my classmates, that we had to do for the rest of our growth-group, since it was our turn. I was really nervous for it, but it went really well and I'm glad it's over. (A growth-group is this thing for professional growth, and we also have to make a learning diary during the two years we have the growth-group meetings.)

On Friday I started a "neurodivergent problems and special-ed" course. That's very roughly translated, but you get the idea. I really liked the first classes already and it's very enlightening.

VENTING BELOW, DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO

On top of being sick, I have been feeling a bit messed up mentally. I've noticed myself thinking I want something bad to happen to me just so I could get out of uni for a while. I know what comes next too, I'm going to continue to get more and more tired, until I actually fall quickly back into deep depression, and/or have another bad psychotic episode. I've already been having very intense paranoia, and I basically stared at shadow people on the walls of the classroom during half of my swedish class yesterday, so that was fun. I haven't really lost my grip on reality for a while, like I know the things I'm seeing are not really real, but they are there 100% and I am seeing them. I don't really know how to explain it properly. It's like I know it's not real, but at the same time they are there, and I can see them and feel them.

Intrusive thoughts have not been nice either, the most frequent one I have is that I should swallow razor blades. I should probably get rid of them, but I always somehow talk myself out of it and I just can't.

I'm supposed to do practical training for three weeks this winter/spring season too, and then preferably another six-week set too. I'm terrified of that whole thing and I don't fucking want to, but I have to if I want to go forward with my studies. The three weeks thing is the orientation training and the six-week one is the first of the professional ones.

I've been toying with the idea of taking some sick leave from uni, but I also don't want to fall behind, so I'm not allowing myself to do that. I know I'm gonna end up burning out, but I feel like I would disappoint a lot of people if I took a break, so my brain won't allow me to do that either. I fucking hate being like this. I feel like a lazy piece of shit, even though my rational mind tells me I'm doing things, and going forward in life, it just doesn't FEEL like it.

[lavendertowerarchives]

I made a youtube video recently (like twenty four hours ago). I'm not a stranger to "trying to start a youtube empire" (I uploaded my first video nine years ago and promptly took it down), but I need to get people to engage with me without having to initiate first. I found a topic I was passionate about, worked on a script, made a .pptx, recorded, and... I guess it's done.

The sound quality is terrible, the video quality is that of a presentation, but the actual content is something I'm rather proud of. I could spend paragraphs maligning the end product, but honestly I'm tired of hearing it from myself already. I'm just glad it's done. Now, when someone seems to have misconceptions about the topic, I can point them to the video and say "here. This is all you need." I did my best to make my explanations exhaustive without being exhausting.

What I actually want to talk about is the paltry engagement I've received in the past twenty four hours. I expected it to get one view and one like exactly, both from my partner. Instead, I have sixteen views, one like, and two comments. The first of which is from my partner, the second of which is from a rando. None of this is to brag or some shit like that. I know that none of the expectations I could ever have will be accurate, so instead, I want to concentrate on the single metric I have.

This second comment irked me. This rando seemed to have obtained information I did not give them, formed an opinion, and slapped it onto my video like a fish onto a cake. I thought I'd be grateful for every piece of engagement I could beg for. I was wrong. I didn't account for the illiteracy of the masses. I instantly understood why every youtuber I watched was so... touchy about their viewers' opinions.

It was grounding to watch myself react to this otherwise inconspicuous occurrence. Yeah, it's a big deal to me, I've overinflated the importance of this video so much that I've been actively staying away from the analytics just to keep myself "normal" about it. Unfortunately, I'd overreacted. I'm glad I didn't respond to them.

The actual content of the comment was just... ignorant. I don't know how else to describe it without getting into what the video was actually about. The whole idea of the vid was to provide a taxonomy for a class of things, and this person decided to drag irrelevant criteria into the system of categorization. I do sincerely mean "irrelevant." I do genuinely mean "ignorant." Unfortunately, this was my target audience, and I seem to have missed the mark.

I'm tired of being invested in my works. Every time I post to this damned account, I watch the unincreasing note tally like a hawk. When I post to AO3, I can't put down my phone, constantly refreshing, waiting for kudos that never arrive, vindicated in my disappointment in my works. Hell, it even went the same way when I posted regularly on instagram, or even on my normal (non-depressing) tumblr account. These are the few times where I'm not just talking to myself. Now that I've posted a fucking video on the internet, the same shit is happening where I overanalyze ever ounce of engagement I get. I just want to be okay with whatever happens but I'm not. I'm just not. I'm just sat here, looking at my "average watchtime: three minutes, forty five seconds" and drawing blood from my arms like that'll make a fucking difference in my mood.

That said, I want to make more videos, regardless of how many people see them. I have this account with less than twenty followers, it's not that much different.

[luckyfailuregirl]

Sorry I know this is a bit of a different post for me but I need a place to put my thoughts (Vent below, tw suicide mention)

I just don't know if I can really do this anymore, I'm just so tired. I feel like even when I'm typing this out now, I won't properly be able to explain what I'm feeling, but it's better to say something than nothing.

I feel like a fucking faker every time I try to confront this

But the days feel so hazy everything is so fuzzy and I don't even know where this came from

I almost cried like 10 different times today in school. And it's not like anything is too difficult for me it's just so overwhelming

My heart starts feeling really heavy and I can't breathe

I embarassed myself really bad today and I feel like a failure

In second hour we had this debate tournament and I got to the top 5 people left and we ran out of time, so then my teacher had to pick winners last minute

I was kind of confident when I first went into it, and I've debated well before, but I was just shaking so bad this time. I feel like that's what ruined my point

The teacher picked two other people to win over me

Which is inherently fine, but I felt like a let down. I felt stupid. I felt like a fucking idiot. I made a fool of myself in front of the whole class and I lost. And it feels even sillier because it doesn't even matter to anyone else, my group said I was fine, I'm the only one who wanted to cry over it. I'm the only one being sensitive.

The next hour I asked a really stupid question and to be honest things just went downhill from there

I wanna give up so bad I'm so fucking tired. Everytime I'm in school this year I just wish I was home, and everytime I'm home I just wish I was somewhere else. Nothing feels right. I have nowhere to go. Home doesn't feel like home and it doesn't feel like there's anyone I can really trust because I just keep letting everybody down so why would they put up with me

In gym, my locker jammed. Like twice

Again, a small thing, but small things really tripped me up today

Things just get worse as the week goes on

There's so much to do and none of these words feel right so I just don't feel okay I just don't feel normal I just want this to be over I want to die so bad and be done with this

Nothing's ever been so unclear before

I walk around and it just feels like I'm on auto pilot I just feel really really tired. I can't keep my eyes open really even when I do get the exact same amount of sleep as I had last year (and last year I was perfectly fine, nothing ever got this bad)

And when I'm around people I could possibly trust I just want to cry but I don't because it's stupid so we laugh and I move on

I don't know I don't know what to do I just wish I wasn't so stupid. I wish I wasn't born this way because I know I'm just a burden and I'm troubling everyone

I rely too much on people who I don't confide in because they have life bad enough already and I'm growing more distant with anyone else in my life. I barely text my friend group anymore I just sit in bed and consume endless amounts of media and try not to lose everything I care about

I don't know. Vent over I can't word it right so I give up

[jimmycartersufo]

on Friday I happened to open Instagram and had a suggested post with a little cat with a grumpy cat face, the caption said he had a bonded brother so I happened to go and check then out. when I saw his brother was a cat that looked like two of my cats who have passed, I immediately called my parents whom I live with and my husband. that day we rushed after work before the shelter closed to meet them but they just got out of surgery so we aren't able to. they were in a free roam room with two other cats. I saw cream puff, the orange, first. he was smaller than I thought. then I saw purrseus, the name the shelter gave him. we had a cam in the Chicago museum of art moment just staring at each other. we went home, saying that it would be OK if they were adopted because it meant a home for them and we would get a cat regardless. I tried to figure out plans to get there and get them that didn't involved both of us calling out. but all night I had dreams of them being adopted a minute after the shelter opened, I cried all night, even in my sleep, and I woke up with a crying hangover. John also dreamt of them, so we got up, called the fuck out with excuses given to me by my mom, and went and got them. we were soooo anxious and nervous. I couldn't eat, had to force myself to eat a Wawa sizzli just so I wouldn't be sick. we were shaking for hours, just two bundles of nerves. we met them, knew it immediately, and started the paperwork. as John was handing in the paper work a couple that was just two folks behind us in line when they opened said they wanted to see those two cats. I was nervous during processing, that somehow we would be denied. I tried to focus on people adopting all morning, a lot of doggies from a recent hoarding case. then John got an email saying we were processed and waiting for the adoption class, where they give you a folder with info and coupons and walk you through stuff before you check out. we paid for two carriers and gave a donation and the woman who helped us there went and got them for us. she said they were the sweetest cats as she put them in their boxes. they didn't make a single peep in the car, they laid right down and went to sleep, even when I told them about the key bridge collapse (you can see it in the distance). we barely slept that night, cream puff is a yeller and I kept waking up to check on them. I was exhausted for work but on cloud nine, nothing could bother me all day. the boys are incredible sweet and cuddly. they have eaten their food well, peed, pooped, and played. we renamed purrseus to gurgi, the creature from the black cauldron, because they are one in the same. he loves to kiss and give tiny nibbles with his tiny little mouth. we have been taking turns sleeping and taking naps to make sure they're okay. cream puff is very skittish and scares easily but he does a little dance when he drinks water and he had the fluffiest tail I've seen on a short hair cat. they are precious and I love them terribly. we have cats already, but they aren't *ours*, they are my families cats. they are still wonderful cats that love us, but they aren't our cats truly. Toby was our first cat together, a cat John basically raised, and he became ours when I moved in. He died April 8th, 2022. there has been a void since. moving in with my parents and having cats again helped, but we wanted cats to call our own. it has been an amazing couple of days. gurgi's first birthday is June 15th. I am so tired but so full of love. I know I'm rambling now but it has been a good time in my life and I have something to get me through the hard shit. can krill myself because I have someone to take care of kinda shit.

[kayliebeanie]

I guess I don't do a whole lot of life update posts so in case anyone wants to know how big of a thing this really was for me here's basically my life story up to now in a brand new format I came up with:

- Be me

- Born in rural southern US

- Get assigned Gifted Kid status basically immediately

- Breeze through school for the most part but barely make any lasting friendships or spend time with people my age outside of school

- Become a furry at some point during high school, for some reason

- Get tired of trying to block every queer furry I run into online and realize that maybe the whole Hating People Different From Me thing won't help me get into heaven

- Oh I'm bi

- Start to feel very burnt out around senior year but still manage to graduate

- Somehow obtain a Discord boyfriend

- A bit of a stoner but super sweet and in a similar living situation to me

- Start my first semester of community college in Fall of 2019

- Then my second in Spring of 2020...

- You already know what happens here

- Flunked out after dropping or failing most of my classes cuz I was struggling to even start assignments or pay attention to online lectures

- Oh I'm a girl

- Spend the next 2 or so years working at the same dead-end job and coming home to my parents' house to rot in my room playing video games alone or occasionally with Discord boyfriend, who also happens to be bisexual

- Survive a hurricane of unprecedented magnitudes for the area I live in

- Return to work after a few days, parking lot is now the largest relief center in town

- About half of all customer interactions involve hearing about people losing their homes or loved ones, but fortunately didn't lose either myself

- Eventually power and water return to town, things slowly return to post-Covid normal

- Election Day 2024

- Spend a couple more months rotting in my room and hearing news about how much the government wants me dead while everyone around me praises them for it

- Finally muster the courage to submit a therapy request through a place I found that lets you fill out a form online rather than making a phone call, AKA the most horrifying thing in the world

- They call me a few hours later and I let it go to voicemail while I curl up in bed and cry

- Eventually call them back, get an appointment

- Ride the high of successfully returning a phone call until the day of the appointment

- Day finally comes

- Car breaks down on the way there, find out pretty quickly that the engine is totally fucked and have to call my mom, who I hadn't even told about the therapy

- Feel like more of a hopeless failure than ever

- Immediately have my own break down when she picks me up and start crying in front of someone for the first time in years

- She has no idea how to handle her son having emotions past the age of 5 and I have to lie about most of the reasons I'm upset so it isn't exactly cathartic

- Get home and eventually calm down enough to reschedule the appointment, via email

- Finally make it to therapy (in a different vehicle) the next week and I'm nervous as hell the whole time but I still make it through the introductory session

- Nicest fucking person I've ever met and also they're non-binary and awesome

- Get to talk to someone in person about being bi, trans, and having a boyfriend for the first time

- Get to keep doing so for an hour every week

- Also talk about my problems with social interaction and college of course

- They recommend me a psychologist and we work up to me eventually calling them

- Psychologist also turns out to be non-binary and awesome

- Get psych evaluation

- Oh I have ADHD, Social Anxiety Disorder, and Persistent Depression Disorder

- Actually that's not surprising

- All the weight of dropping out of college despite being The Gifted Kid all my life starts to fall off my shoulders

- I continue therapy, feeling much more comfortable with the therapist and my current life status over time, including my long standing online relationship

- Finally start talking more with my boyfriend about meeting up

- Book a hotel, request time off work for myself for the first time, and even call ahead to confirm the reservation

- Day finally comes

- I finish packing, tell my mom I'm gonna be camping with a friend for a few days, and get the fuck out of there before she has time to ask too many questions

- "Son" of white Christian nationalists goes on "camping trip" with a "friend" she met online...

- You already know what happens here

"Son" of white Christian nationalists goes on "camping trip" with a "friend" she met online, smokes WEED, sucks COCK, and gets RAILED all for the first time. Many such cases!

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Did It Even Mean Anything?

Words: 1682

Warnings: angst, breakup, being played, only dating someone on a bet, probably poor writing but whatever

STRANGER THINGS Masterlist Main Masterlist

Request: "Gareth and Jeff make a bet with Eddie about not being able to get a date or a girl in general. Eddie asked out the quiet girl thinking it would be an easy bet, but realize they have a lot in common. Maybe the next day at school she finds out about the bet from over hearing it from Gareth and Jeff talking to Eddie. Ending of their reaction is up to you."

I have such a love/hate with this trope dude. Like, I love it, but I hate it at the exact same time.

I also hated making Gareth be the dick that he is in this. I love that guy so much man.

*EDIT AFTER WRITING AND POSTING*

THERE WILL BE NO FUCKING PART 2! I WROTE THIS WITH NO INTENT OF ONE! THEN THIS BECAME MORE POPULAR THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD! AND PEOPLE WERE DEMANDING ME TO MAKE A PART 2 AND I WON'T FUCKING DO IT CAUSE YOU FUCKING DEMANDED IT AND YOU SHOULDN'T DO THAT! PLUS, I WOULD PISS Y'ALL OFF BY MAKING IT EVEN SADDER THAN IT ALREADY IS! IF YOU TRULY WANT ANOTHER PART THAT'LL BE HAPPY, WRITE IT YOURSELF!

I'm not trying to be an asshole I'm just tired of people asking for it when I have told them in the comments AND THE REBLOGS that I wasn't sure about it. But now I've decided to not.

But please, read this and continue to like it.

Anywho, enjoy

Eddie smirked at Y/N as he leaned against the lockers next to hers. She was quiet. Well, more reserved than most of the other girls that he knew of. And he knew that she had a crush on him. "So? What do you say, princess? Tomorrow, 7 o'clock? I pick you up at yours?" She stared at him with wide eyes before smiling softly and nodding. Eddie let out a small laugh, "You gonna use your words, darling?"

She felt her face heat up before letting out a soft, "Yeah." She cleared her throat and spoke a little louder, "Yeah, I would like that a lot."

He smiled, "Good. See you then." She nodded as he walked away.

And as he walked away, she turned to her locker and grabbed all of her books and piled them into her back. She couldn't believe it! Eddie Munson, the guy she had had a crush on since she met him her Freshman (his Sophomore) year, had just asked her out. She was ecstatic.

But she was also surprised. Eddie knew who she was? They had only ever spoken to each other 2 times. One was when he had asked her for a pencil. And the other was when he had asked what he missed in Mrs. Click's class because he had missed the past three days.

But that was 2 and a half years ago.

However, she stopped her worrying and walked out to her car. Excited that literally anyone had just asked her out. But she was also nervous because she had never been on a date before. So she had no idea what to do or wear.

However, unknown to her, Eddie was walking into the Hellfire room with the biggest shit-eating grin he had ever had. He opened the door, and with his luck, only Gareth and Jeff were there. He slammed his hands down on the table. "You two boys now owe me a hundred dollars each."

Gareth raised an eyebrow, "Why's that?"

"Because I just got my ass a fucking date."

Jeff scoffed, "Yeah? With who?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

His friends started laughing. "Y/N Y/L/N? The girl who had literally had a crush on you since she met you?"

Eddie smirked, "You didn't say it couldn't someone easy. So pay the fuck up." Gareth and Jeff looked at one another and Eddie groaned, "Now what?"

"Date her until the end of the school year and you'll get your money."

"That wasn't the original fucking plan!"

Gareth shrugged, "Yeah, but we realized that you'll just go on one lousy date with her. Maybe even try to sleep with her. Then toss her to the side. Because we all know that you can't commit."

Eddie groaned, "You guys are literally the fucking worst."

They both shrugged this time, "You chose to befriend us, Eddie."

Eddie rolled his eyes, "Whatever." He ran a hand through his hair, "So I just have to date her until May 25th?" The other two nodded, "Fine. I guess I can do that."

Unfortunately for him, he would realize just how much he would fall for Y/H/C girl he just asked out on a bet.

-

Eddie was sitting next to Y/N in the back of his van at the Drive-Thru. Neither were really even watching it as they were just talking to each other. He was surprised to find out that she liked a lot of the same things he did.

"Actually, Rocky Horror is gonna be showed a town over in two weeks. I was planning on going, maybe, if you wanted, we could go together." The smile on her face as soft as she asked him.

He returned the smile and nodded, "That would be fun." He leaned back, against the side of his van. "One question. Do you dress up?"

She laughed, "Of course I do! Usually I do Janet as that's all that I really have clothes for. But I recently found a old maids outfit that I'm gonna fix up to look like Magenta. Hopefully it'll be ready in time."

He grabbed a piece of popcorn and popped it into his mouth. "I bet it will be."

He laughed lightly and she smiled at him confused. "What?"

"I just...I don't get this. You're literally so...perfect. I mean. You're so nice, you like the same things as me, and you're hot." She felt her face heat up at the last comment. "You're like a dream come true Y/N Y/L/N."

She smirked, "What? Did you think that I was gonna like a lot of popular stuff?"

"Kinda?"

She laughed, "I do like some of it. There are some chick-flicks that I love. Some music. I just like whatever I like."

He nodded, "What's your opinion on DnD."

"I've never played. But it seems pretty interesting. I don't really understand why people say it's 'satanic'. And that people who play it are 'devil worshippers' and 'evil'. Games don't make being evil. It's what they're surrounded by that do it."

He smiled, "I like your thinking."

For the rest of the film, the two of them continued to just talk about different things that they liked. And Eddie continued to be surprised that the two of them liked the same things as each other.

But the guilt that he just asked her out on a bet grew more and more.

-

The two had gotten together in January and now March was ending and April was starting. Eddie had truly started to fall for Y/N after a week. But he kept feeling guilty that this all started because of a stupid bet he had made with his friends. He had felt like he was using her this whole time. But he knew it wasn't true. Everything he had said and done had been true. And when he told her that he loved her. He had meant it.

But he knew he would have to tell her the truth at some point. Even if he knew that he would hurt the both of them. But he wasn't going to do that until after he talked to Jeff and Gareth and called the bet off.

-

Y/N walked down the hall to the Hellfire room. She had to ask Eddie if she had left her jacket over at his trailer. But she felt her blood run cold when she overheard a conversation that she knew she shouldn't have.

"-You can't do that dude! You calling off the bet means that you have to pay us! I thought that you hated losing!"

"Yeah? Well I didn't plan on actually falling for her! I can't go through with the fucking bet! It'll just hurt her!"

"That's your fault bro. You knew that this could happen, but you went through with it. You asked Y/N out on a bet, knowing that you easily could fall for her."

She hadn't realized that she walked into the room fully until she dropped the books in her arms and the three boys turned to her. Guilt covered Eddie's face when he saw her. And he was barely able to get her name out before she ran out of the room. He cursed under his breath and turned to Gareth and Jeff. "The bet is over. I'll pay you two tomorrow." And then without even giving them a chance to respond, he ran out to find Y/N.

He had a good idea where she would be. He remembered something she had mentioned once about a place in the woods. Different than the place he would meet people for deals. She had shown him it once. And when he made it to there, he felt his heart break. He heard her crying. And it pained him to know that she was crying because of him. Because of what he had done.

As a twig snapped under his foot, her head snapped around. She wiped the tears away from her eyes. "Leave me alone."

"Princess-"

"No. No don't. Don't do that." She stood up, "Don't sit there and say 'princess' and act all innocent. Act-act as if...as if this isn't all a lie!"

He shook his head, "It isn't a lie! I do love you! More than anything!"

She shook her head, "I was nothing more than a fucking bet. You asked me out just so you could...could what? Get money? Prove that you aren't a fucking loser?"

"Y/N I-"

"Was any of it even real?"

"What?"

She walked over to him and poked his chest, "Any of it? Was. It. Even. Real. Did you mean any of it? Or was it all apart of the fucking bet?"

"I meant everything I said and did!"

She let in a shaky breath, "Why me? Why did you choose me to be the fucking victim?" She laughed, "Actually. No wait, let me guess. You asked me because you thought I would be easy. Because you knew I had fucking liked you for years. Am I right?" He stayed silent. She was right. He had originally asked her because he knew that she would say right. She let out a small, dry laugh. "I should have fucking known. It was all too good to be true. I mean, why else would Eddie 'the freak' Munson ask me out? Why else if I wasn't just supposed to be another notch on his belt?" She looked at him, "Well, go find yourself some other girl to fuck with. Because we're fucking done." She pushed past him, but not without saying, "God, I wish I never had been seen with the freak of Hawkins."

And he watched as she walked away and felt him heart tear into a million pieces. He knew he had fucked up. He knew he should have told her the minute he gained feelings. But he didn't and now he had fucked everything up.

And now the one person who he had actually fallen for, hated him more than anything.

[bisquid]

Okay I'm going to say a couple of things in bullet points bc it's late and I'm tired so please bear with me:

Apologies for the perhaps unnecessarily aggressive response; I've been fielding a fun and wide variety of obnoxious responses both in the notes and my inbox so I'm feeling a tad punchy

I am not trying to preach to anyone, but I am growing increasingly aware of an incredible amount of (justified) vitriol towards the one percent who are ruining everyone's lives, but also how much of that anger is being mistakenly directed at the wrong targets

Fuck knows it's satisfying to go 'ha ha look at the rich white assholes experiencing a consequence', but it's also frustrating to see 'rich white assholes' applied to an incredible number of not rich not necessarily white possibly assholes

(I have been sent death threats because "only a rich cunt would want death panels deciding who lives or dies because you can afford private healthcare" when I made a comment about the NHS, and also called a number of things I won't repeat here for the unforgivable crime of 'moving back in with my parents after uni')

Your patronisation is cute but alas misplaced: I already volunteer at my local food bank, (and my local wildlife rescue at my old location) and have on more than one occasion donated to them directly, so I appreciate your recognition of their value! I also regularly donate items to several local branches of charities such as the bhf and Oxfam.

I will admit that my primary focus is wildlife and biodiversity conservation, so most of my volunteering time and donations and whatnot tend to lean towards that, but there's a surprising amount of overlap between conservation and social responsibility

When you've had someone tell you to your face that your volunteering work is a pointless hypocrisy because it won't fix the underlying systemic inequality in the same breath that they've called the local pub landlady 'part of the problem' for owning the pub she tends bar and waits table at, you become rapidly weary - and wary - of the black and white false dichotomy mentality that is so prevalent on Tumblr

As a broke Brit with neither the time nor inclination to visit America much less attend burning man I feel that some of your vitriol may be a tad misplaced there

Additionally, there is a world of difference between the titan implosion and the burning man (and possibly fyre fest) incidents in that while the former is absolutely the well deserved 'find out' to a billionaire's 'fuck around', the latter are, purely by dint of the numbers involved, if nothing else, much less the specific details of the event in question, likely to be primarily affecting normal people who don't deserve to be experiencing whatever it is that's gone wrong

On which note: I truly regret mentioning burning man in the original post, because it's managed to derail my actual point, which is that having disposable income doesn't make someone The Rich™ and sitting around laughing at the suffering of the not-technichally-poor is not actually the class consciousness people seem to think it is

And furthermore this is a dangerous attitude to have because it encourages infighting among a group of people who have far more in common with each other than the actually rich people they're mistaking each other for

And moreover in the event of a genuine 'revolution' it will, just like many other 'socialist' uprisings in modern history (think the USSR, China, see the notes on this post) result in the deaths of many normal people who happened to 'look' wealthy enough to become targets

Finally: one of the specific reasons I made my own post rather than barging in on every post that set my teeth on edge was the recognition that it's not always necessary to start these kinds of discussions on a 'not that deep' post, however much I personally want to grab and shake the OPs and point them in the direction of the people who actually deserve their ire

Seeing the notes on posts about the Burning Man Debacle™ and for fucks sake I am taking the phrase 'eat the rich' away from y'all until you can CORRECTLY IDENTIFY the rich

Rich is 'arrived by way of their private jet', is 'dropped $500k on a submarine ticket', is '$500 is a rounding error'.

'$500 dollars for a nine day event they must all be rich white people' no you reactionary rotten potato that is actually an entirely reasonable price for an entirely normal person to pay for an annual event! $500 over the course of a year is approximately equivalent to one big takeout a month! Being able to afford that doesn't make you rich it makes you probably not poor! The 'rich or poor' narrative is a false dichotomy that completely excludes the fact that 'richness' or 'poorness' is a SCALE! It's not fucking categorical! You don't one day magically flip a switch and go from 'poor' to 'rich' or vice versa you see incremental changes over time! Wealth distribution is a (these days, admittedly, rather wonky) motherfucking BELL CURVE! . The fact that capitalism is driving more and more people to either extreme of said curve is just evidence of a broken system, but it doesn't change the fact that most people should have a decent amount of disposable income!

The fact that many people don't have said disposable income doesn't magically make the ones that do 'rich' it makes everyone else poor. And the people at fault for the massive and growing percentage of people living below the poverty line are not the ones managing to stay above it, it's the fault of the actually rich, the ones stealing our time and our health and our wages and our future in pursuit of a number on a screen. And the rich are the only people you're helping by hating the people struggling slightly less than you.

When it comes time to 'eat the rich' you're going to be murdering dentists and librarians and scientists while the actually rich point and laugh from a safe distance as you solve their problems for them.

[ackerfics]

just say it, ditto: eren jaeger

— i got nothing to lose, i keep falling for you; ra ta ta ta, there goes my heart.

eren jaeger x female reader

summary: each note eren's heart sings is about you. it's only a matter of time yours sing about him, too.

word count: 6.8k

notes: i am proud to say that this is my comeback in posting full fics here. now watch me never posting one after months. jk. but still, i'm rusty when writing longer fics so i hope you enjoy this one! treat this as a gift for being one of the 2,000 people who made this blog possible <3 + it's pretty obvious newjeans is my favorite kpop group rn oop

— You’ve long since given up on relationships.

How many partners has it been since the start of university? With how that sounds, one will think that you’ve been breaking hearts around Paradis University; notorious for being a heartless individual with no value for the depth of emotions. That assumption rings false. One hand can sum up everything romantic you’ve experienced but these relationships felt longer than the time span they actually had that you’ve lost count of them. Everything becomes hazy to a point that everything morphs into a misty film reel, unlike the rose-colored lens you’ve always seen the world with even without the pretense of falling in with someone. You’re not one to be desperate for this fickle thing called love but every once in a while, you crave blanketing words that make you see flowers, unbridled laughter amidst piles of note revisions and readings, and hugs that feel like a warm cup of coffee in a chilly night of loneliness.

Your relationships always end in the same way — they couldn’t handle the way that you see and do things; the way you have to be the last one to have the say in an argument, how you should be left alone when you’re too immersed in finishing your tasks, or when you have the tendency to be absent despite being there for them (if that makes any sense). They say you’re too focused on your goals (there’s nothing wrong with trying to finish college just to be in one of the country’s best medical schools) or you’re too snarky and blunt for them to handle (you have a bad day when this happens).

So, you just let them go. Let them win.

It’s not that you’re tired of those repeating circles of words but because they’re right. You’ve been too snarky, picky when you’re eating something, focused on your future, never clingy for someone to be called a significant other — you just don’t have the strength to continue having those relationships even though you’ve seen the world in pink when you’re with them.

The break-ups all end on a sour note, like the time you’ve been given a piece of candy without being told it’s the sourest shit on the planet. Maybe that is why you’ve been scared of romance, to begin with — the appearance may seem sweet but you’ve taken a bite, and everything takes a turn for the worse. Yeah, you understand that relationships can have their ups and downs; but when you’ve heard your boyfriend talk to his friends about how you’re so irritating and downright rude most of the time, him crossing the line as he said that this specific girl from the other class is far sexier than you can ever be and that he wants to fuck her instead (coupled with a few explicit crafting of words that disgusted even your most open-minded friends) … You have already dropped the paper bag filled with his favorite food.

That’s just one of the break-ups. God knows how much patience you have for going through much worse.

Besides, you like spending your junior year with fewer worries than the previous years.

But sometimes, you always think of how lonely you are; like what does it feel like to have someone so patient that they assure you they’re always there for you? Or to feel so secure in a relationship that it’s like a warm fireplace, which can go on for so many hours keeping you warm and safe? You swear you don’t want your heart broken again but you still crave that rush love brings to you.

It doesn’t help that you see these things in your best friend.

Eren Jaeger is someone who you completely met by chance back in freshman year, back when you were all about making sure that your marks are pristine and that your parents can have another opportunity in being the proudest that they can get.

You remember him lingering in the doorway of your dorm room, something that you were wary about until he turned around to face you with this comical teary face that didn’t fit in with his overall broody aesthetic. He claimed that Mikasa, his best friend, and practically sister since they grew up together in the same house and your roommate, accidentally took his wallet back to your dorm room. One thing you know about Mikasa in the three weeks you’ve roomed with her is that she sleeps like a bear in hibernation. So, you unlocked the door to your dorm room and told him that there was nothing to worry about because you’d get his wallet and attached keys. That way, he could have his merry way home and he would be a passing face in university. Until he invited you to have dinner with him as thanks.

You accepted since it was free food and you just got out of a three-hour lecture.

The rest is history. It was there you got to know Eren as more than just Mikasa’s childhood friend. He asked you why you picked your major, you asked him how he was faring in his — the night ended with you two exchanging numbers and following each other on your socials.

He’s seen all of your failed relationships. While Mikasa tears up with you and Armin consoles you by rubbing your back, Eren is the embodiment of anger.

He once threatened to storm out of your dorm room to fight your ex after one break-up that had you picking up the broken shards of your self-esteem and confidence. He didn’t even hear Mikasa shouting for him to calm the fuck down but all it took was for you to plead for him to stay and never make a wrong decision.

“Eren, just stay,” your breath hitched with how hard you were crying. The break-up drained you for an entire day. Your ex dared to lay out every wrong and insecurity you felt to make him feel protected — that he would have a better relationship if he went out with the girl he met a few weeks after you two started dating. You look up at Eren, your bottom lip wobbling. “Don’t go out there.”

His entire demeanor softened. Walking to you, he sat on his haunches in front of you, his stare never wavering as he regarded the way your tears made your eyelashes clump together. Why’d you had to be pretty even when crying? He pushed the thought away and clasped the hands wringing the material of your skirt into both of his. The door behind you two closed — an indication that Mikasa gave you two the privacy you both needed, the girl decided to spend the rest of the day with Armin, who was begging to be updated on what was happening to you. Eren was sure the two of them would buy some groceries, anything you prefer, just to make you feel better. They’re awesome like that. Everything blurred into nothing when you’re in his view. You kept silently crying and while he still found you beautiful, he was itching to start a fight with that asshole of an ex you had.

Eren lifted your entwined hands to his lips, kissing them and making time stop. “I’m going to beat him,” he murmured against your knuckles.

You shook your head.

“He made you cry.”

You still shook your head, bowing to curtain your face with your hair.

“I hate it when someone makes you cry.” He gulped down the nervousness clogging his throat. “I fucking hate it when they managed to make the most amazing person fall in love with them and just break her heart after. Sweetheart, you don’t deserve to be treated like this.” The term of endearment flowed from his tongue like it was meant to — natural. “You deserve so much more than this. You deserve…” Was he about to say, me? What the fuck was he thinking? Now, he was the one who shook his head, mainly to dispel the thought from his head. “You know,” his voice was so quiet, “someone is willing to give you the love you deserve and it will take some time to meet them.”

You took your hands from him and he panicked. Did he say something wrong? Synonymous thoughts pulsed through the walls of his head, that was until you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. With the way he was still sitting on his haunches, his face became buried in your chest. It was almost like you were the one comforting him and not the other way around. He should be the one doing the comforting but God damn it, your warmth made him melt in everything that you encompassed — scent, presence, just you and only you.

“I’m tired of finding that love.”

“You have me — us, Mikasa, Armin, and the rest of our friends,” the way he saved himself was pathetic.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You know I love you, right?”

Damn, there went that squeeze around his heart. He knew the meaning behind those words. You meant it in a more platonic manner because you never once said those three weighty words to your ex-boyfriends. Those who had the luxury to receive the phrase from you were your friends and it sadly included him. He didn’t want to walk around in this position. He wanted to be more. But that would mean you discovering his feelings for you. And yes, they ran deeper than the trenches discovered by mankind. You made him feel that kind of love — the type that gave him butterflies, tornadoes, bonfires, and all the seasons combined. You were the reason why he smiled most of the day, the reason why he looked at everything through a lens that presented all the colors in the spectrum and not just the usual hazy pink. 

“Eren?”

He buried his face deeper in your chest, the song of your heartbeat lulling him. He wished it was faster like the way his own tapped inside him.

“I know.”

He once again masked everything by saying the words back, with more ferocity and affection and intensity than yours did.

“I love you, too.”

That day was the reason why you stopped entering into relationships not worth your time.

You deserve a love that is more than what you seek from forgettable faces.

So, you focus on yourself … and the way Eren makes you question these budding feelings now that junior year rolls around.

“Where did you get this?” Eren asks when he trails his eyes on your hand sitting idly on top of the desk the private study rooms of the library offer.

He’s sitting beside you trying to get some work done before finishing the study session and getting some food from the nearby restaurants in the university town (which is a short walk from the library you both chose). What should be a group session becomes a pair because apparently; Mikasa has to go prepare for her mock trial with the rest of her class, Armin has to finish the pending experiment his group is doing for one of his laboratory classes, Jean has to be a fucking responsible teaching assistant for once in his life, Sasha has to cover some restaurant for her review (the deadline being later at midnight), and Connie has to attend his goldfish’s funeral (he doesn’t have a goldfish; their dorm building doesn’t even allow pets).

You find their excuses plausible except for Connie, bless his soul and his imaginary goldfish. So, now you spend the rest of the free day with Eren in the library, booking one of the study rooms for some well-deserved peace. You’re listening to some of your favorite songs when he speaks, catching his lips moving at the corner of your eyes.

“Hmm?” you hum while pulling down your headphones around your neck.

“This.” The moment he takes your hand in his, your heart starts pacing faster. “Where did you get this?” Eren carefully and softly runs his finger on the spots of red on the skin of two of your fingers. The scars seem fresh because you flinch. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“I didn’t realize I had that until Mikasa pointed it out actually,” you answer him.

He winces. “You don’t have any band-aids?”

You shake your head. “I forgot to buy some.” The way he stares at you makes you pout. “I did forget, Eren.”

“Yeah, yeah, got that.”

You’re about to go back to studying when you feel a pair of lips graze the scars on your hand. Time slows down and you swear you witness the room illuminate. Eren has his eyes closed, his long eyelashes tickling your skin. You forget to breathe when he opens them to give you the sight of his teal irises reflecting your wide-eyed image. His lips are still on your hand, the tingling sensation of his growing smile traveling through your arm and to your chest, warming up every part of your body until you feel your face flare. The gesture is completely new to you.

“There,” Eren says. “Tell me if the pain starts acting up,” he pulls back and leans on his chair, your hand still tenderly cradled on his palm. “I’ll take it away.”

You take your hand from his and hide it from behind the sleeve of your fluffy cardigan. You try to bring back your concentration but all you can think of is the feeling of his lips on your fingers. While you’re berating yourself, you never notice Eren grinning beside you, his heart thankful that your friends ditched you two in this study session.

It’s only when you two walk to your favorite restaurant that you register how annoyingly cheesy all that was.

Today is not your day.

You’re walking in the halls of your department building and even with the flow of liveliness surrounding you, all you hear are muffled noises and the deafening footsteps echoing on the floor. You were doing fine when you entered your first lecture of the day — more than usual it seemed. The friends you made in some of your classes saw how you cackled near tears at some unfunny joke that shouldn’t warrant that much hysterical laughter. Nobody would even suspect that you feel so sucked of all the vibrancy you always carry in the pockets of your jeans after continuous periods of sitting on different-structured chairs and having to participate in some impromptu recitations. You love being in university — you really do. It’s just that there are certain aspects of it and specific time frames that you have to admit how exhausted you are. So, as your friends chatter around you, you keep your head angled to the floor, your hands keeping the laptop case close to your chest.

The conversation unfolding in your presence is interesting but all you can manage are tiny hums of agreement or weak chuckles. The subject switches from enduring another period of recits, to the laboratory reports that needed to be turned in, to how there should be another store in the university town that sells any kind of food, and to who is the reddest flag among your peers. It’s almost like you’re watching shows with your father — always flipping the channel until he finds the one he’s most comfortable with.

Your mind is both empty and running a thousand miles per step. Sleep beckons you in a way that you have no say over. You’re pretty sure Mikasa is going to cook something delectable as always — that’s one thing you’re looking forward to when you go home to your shared apartment. A heavy sigh comes out of your chest, lifting your shoulders from the weight Atlas transferred on you.

Looking at the floor becomes bland and you have to lift your eyes to what’s in front of you.

Right at the end of the hallway, where the building lets the outside light pass through the entrance and exit doors, are Eren and some of his classmates, probably just coming out of a recent class, judging by their sluggish nature. You two share the same department building despite having different majors — him with his pre-med and you with neuroscience. You recognize some of them in the group photos Eren was tagged in on Instagram, like that boy with auburn hair who sneers every time someone so much as breathes within the same space as Eren or that boy with the slicked-back blond hair and army green bomber jacket. And in the middle of the group is one of your best friends, teal eyes hooded with boredom and hair tied up in that effortless bun he likes so much. He doesn’t see you yet and you have the urge to call out to him but you don’t find the energy to. Your social battery is already on the brink of shutting down and guilt starts dripping into your stomach.

Almost like he senses you, Eren meets your eyes.

He stops in the middle of the hallway with his hands in his pockets and eyebrows furrowed. You keep walking with your now curious friends. Who is this guy staring at us? Wait, he’s kinda hot though. Damn it, now I have another crush in this stupid university. You can hear them talking but you see nobody but him, your sneaker-clad feet carrying you closer to him.

With only a few paces separating you from him, he retracts his hands from his pockets and opens his arms with that lax posture of his. His friends are looking at him like he’s crazy but you know what he’s doing.

Your lip wobbles and you let out a shaky breath. You’re walking faster now. Just a couple of steps away.

Eren wraps his arms around you once you reach him.

He threads his fingers through your hair, cradling your head close to his chest, while his other arm secures you to his body, silently pleading for you to never stray far. There’s a pounding in the air, with you not knowing whose heart composes the vivace tune; because right now, you can feel your heart racing despite the calm Eren induces in you.

You two stay like that — suspended at the moment. Nothing in the world matters except for you two. Words aren’t exchanged. The moment Eren sees you walking that way, he instantly knows. You have that connection with him. One look is all it takes for him to swoop in and let you feel that you have someone to lean on as he leans on you. You feel that sentiment in the way he slightly tightens his hold around you, pressing you more so that all you can hear is his breathing and his unsaid thoughts. The scent he carries entangles with yours, similar to how your hearts beat in complement to one another. You bury your face in his chest and he buries his own in your hair. The exhaustion makes your joints creak and your dim world seeps away the longer he softly scratches your scalp with tender strokes.

You nearly cry as his lips seal this moment with a firm kiss on the crown of your head.

“I got you,” Eren whispers to your ears only. “I always got you.”

Shit, there goes your heart.

“Your next lecture is still an hour later, right? Let’s go get some coffee.”

For the first time in months, hope blossoms and you willingly let it fester.

“You okay?” Mikasa asks you as soon as she gets inside your shared apartment. She slides her tote bag from her shoulder, all the while never taking her eyes off you as you stare at nothing in the living room, your revisions and notes scattering the coffee table. “Babes?” The term of endearment is so natural between you and Mikasa but you’re so out of it that you don’t hear her call for you. “[Name].” She taps your nose with the tip of her finger.

“Oh, welcome home,” you greet once you get out of that daze.

Mikasa looks at you a second longer and places her hand on your forehead.

“Mikasa?”

“No signs of fever,” she murmurs, cupping your face in her hands. “You’re not overworking yourself again, are you?” Her voice gains that stern tone. Trust Mikasa to always pull you to the ground whenever you have one of those study sprees, only having coffee for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “You know it hurts me to see you overworking. Hold on, let me whip up something for you.”

How can you tell her that you’ve been feeling unproductive because of her closest person? Because of that little heartstopping moment earlier, you’ve been in a constant spiral, neglecting your school work even when you already laid out everything in front of you. This isn’t like you at all — you’ve never been distracted because of a guy. You wonder what’s so different now. Eren has hugged you multiple times in the past and you even initiate most of them. So, why are you starting to sift through your memories with him and watching them in these pink-hazed 3D glasses? Every smile, every laugh, every eye contact that has you feeling like you’re the only person in the world for him … or just the way he makes your day better just by being there. You remember all the times he was about to storm across the cafeteria upon seeing one of your exes and the anger he embodied when he thinks of the way you’re always hurt.

This is bad — you’re seeing him differently after that hug and impromptu cafe hang-out.

The weight of that realization makes your heart race in a completely new tune, much clearer and melodic than the times you thought you experienced love in one of its forms.

“Mikasa.”

“Hmm?”

You can hear a pan sizzling from the kitchen. You remain looking at the coffee table, right at your phone lighting up with a notification, showing the world your wallpaper. Eren changed it to a picture of you two for fun. He was kissing your cheek, with you captured in a beautiful candid shot. You were laughing at the tickling sensation coming from his lips smiling against your skin. You never changed it. Mikasa chuckled to herself the first time she saw it. You could almost hear her say ‘idiots’ under her breath.

“Am I allowed to feel love again?”

You can sense your roommate turn around. It’s silent until she speaks in a clear voice, “You’re always allowed to feel love, [Nickname].”

“But what if I ruin it?”

Mikasa purses her lips. “You have never ruined anything. You might have small faults in those relationships but if your exes appreciated you just like they claimed, you wouldn’t hurt like this.” You’re still quiet and Mikasa thoughtfully turns back to make you a proper meal while continuing, “It’s okay to be afraid, [Nickname]. Falling in love is always a risk but it’s not good if you prevent it from happening. If that right someone comes, the jump you took to follow your feelings will be worth it in the end. It might cost you more heartbreaks along the way but everything will be amazing when that person is by your side.”

“And if I think I found him?”

The sound of Mikasa’s spatula stops, and the sizzle of the onions, garlic, and other vegetables persists through this pause. You take a peek at your roommate from behind the curtain of your hair, her back rigid and her hand holding the spatula hovering over the pan. “Miki?”

The girl shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I just remembered something,” she hastily tells you before swiveling to face you. Mikasa only displays emotions around certain people and you wish you could laugh at the disbelieving yet confused face she gives you right now. “You found him? And you think he’s the right someone for you?” She makes sure she doesn’t sound that skeptical to not hurt you anymore but she can’t help but feel like she’s been missing out on this recent development in your life. You've been roommates since freshman year and every time you fall in love, Mikasa is a witness to it, but not this one. This is a shock for her.

You nod at her, choosing not to use your voice this time

“Do I know this person?”

Your heart makes a flip in your chest. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugs. “Just checking. You know, to make sure. So, tell me about this lucky guy.”

“He … wears his heart on his sleeve.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “Even though that’s considered a weakness by some people, he manages to come this far by doing that. It’s one of the many things I adore about him.” You laugh a little. “He’s a little reckless most of the time. Oh, and he’s so brazen and sometimes broody, too. Those are some of the reasons why he gets into arguments with our friends. But even with all of that, he’s so attentive. The thing about people who wear their hearts on their sleeves is that they know when someone needs solace. He does that all the time and even without saying anything, my day just gets better with one hug from him.” You gain a blue blanket over yourself. “I just wish that I can give him the affection and care he’s always giving me. I know I’m bad at giving but … I’m willing to try for him.”

You look up and you feel your face heat up when you see Mikasa gawking at you. You watch as her face morphs into a rare smile that reaches her eyes. If you squint, you can see her holding back her squeal.

“And for that, I’m making this even more delicious just for you!”

And before you can call out to her, she’s going back and forth in the kitchen like a madwoman. Bewilderment is an understatement. One will think that Mikasa is the person falling in love inside this apartment and not you. A puff of laughter comes out of your lips, endeared by the sight of your best friend slash roommate being this ecstatic at the possibility of you in a stable and healthy development of feelings. You perch your chin on your propped elbow. Maybe you should hit up her favorite restaurant in the university town as a token of your gratitude, one that stems from three years of bonding.

“Confess to her.”

“Well, good-fucking-morning to you, too, Mikasa.”

It’s six in the morning on a Saturday. Eren deserves a full ten-hour cycle of sleep after that horrifying week he just survived. 

“Oh, did I wake you up?”

Eren pulls away his phone from his ear and glares at it, hoping that the girl on the other side of the call picks up on this ominous atmosphere he‘s starting to create. “What do you think?” He spits, particularly snappy at anyone, even the person he grew up with, for disrupting his previously-earned slumber (for once in university, he finally has the chance to enjoy sleep without worrying over deadlines). He internally cries when he feels the last tendrils of drowsiness seep out of his skin and onto the open windows letting in a new dawn. He wants to go back to sleep but with Mikasa’s call, he pitifully kisses that goodbye.

“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry.

“You don’t sound sorry,” Eren grumbles. “Why’d you call?”

A maniacal giggle tickles his ear, sending a shiver of fear down his spine.

“What the fuck—?”

“I have news.”

“Really?” He incredulously exclaims. “At six in the morning? Can’t you wait until like, what, later at noon to tell me? You know it’s my day off right now.”

“It’s about [Name].”

That catches Eren’s attention and he nearly throws himself off the bed.

“What?” He hastily stands up and fumbles to his closet for some decent clothing. “Is she alright? Is she hurt? Where is she right now? Does she need me to pick her up?” Silence is his answer. Eren again looks at his phone before putting it right next to his ear. “Mikasa? You still there?”

“Eren.”

“Yeah?”

“You have to confess to her.”

“What?”

He can feel Mikasa roll her eyes. “It’s just like I said. Confess.”

Eren slowly takes a few steps back until his knees hit the mattress, letting him on the plush mattress. “What brought this on?” It’s not the first time his best friend tells him to pour all his well-kept emotions into you, the reason for his giddy smiles and sweet nights. Just thinking of letting you know of this three-year worth of feelings makes his heart beat faster. What if you reject him? He’s seen you swerve from any romantic advances a person sends your way, he’s seen you cry over assholes who thought it was best to play with you, and he’s seen you content with this relationship you have with him. Eren sighs out a breath tainted with the scent of the yellow tulips and pink camellias sprouting in his ribcage. It’s almost pitiful how heavy his sigh is. “And why are you so sure about this?”

“I know things you don’t.”

He scoffs, running his hand through his hair, the wavy brown strands falling over his collarbone. “Look, Meeks,” the nickname is always there when he’s feeling unsure of himself, “I’ve thought about it, okay? But I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Trust me on this one, Eren. Maybe you can even thank me in the future.”

“Mikasa,” he warns.

“Eren, you have nothing to worry about. She said some things to me last night and I think you have a chance. This will be the time you can finally be with her and this will also be the time she can have someone who’s going to wholeheartedly love her in a way that she should be loved. This is your chance—”

Eren tightly closes his eyes at every word Mikasa spews out. His chest is rapidly going up and down until, “I’m scared.”

“What?”

“I’m scared,” he enunciates as if talking to a pesky sibling (which is how she’s acting right now). “I’m fucking terrified, alright?”

He curses when he feels a stinging in his eyes. He’s not about to cry right now — not when Mikasa is on the other side of the phone. He knows how she is when he cries. Eren remembers that one time he bawled his eyes out when his mother decided it would be nice to keep all his games away for one night because he was acting like a brat. Mikasa sneaked into his parents’ room in the middle of the night and successfully took his game from their closet. Thank God his parents weren’t about to give him a baby sibling that night. Nonetheless, Mikasa’s protective instincts for her friends flare when they cry. She does that with him, Armin, and especially you. You’ve practically replaced Eren as her top priority. So, right now, Eren hopes Mikasa doesn’t hear the wobble in his voice but that’s highly unlikely.

He continues, “[Name] swore off relationships after her last heartbreak during sophomore year. I’m not about to go up to her and tell her ‘Hey, I’ve been crushing on you so so bad since we were freshmen and I know you probably see me as a friend but how about that date? You look lovely by the way’. It’s not that easy, Meeks. I … freeze when those words come up.” And when you look at him with those eyes he dreams about waking up to every morning — curved like crescents with genuine happiness and love for him, Eren’s a goner. You have that effect on him. Time slows and everything dissolves into nothing when you’ve only done one thing, and that’s smiling at him. God, he’s so in love with you that the thorns are starting to sprout with the flowers. “It’s pathetic.”

With the pause on the other side of the call, Eren would think that Mikasa drops it.

“Mikasa?”

“... She’s ready to love again, Eren, and she’s ready to do it with you in the picture.”

A goddess of time, that’s what you are, because, at those words, Eren’s entire world stops.

“I won’t say exactly what she said because that would mean telling on her but,” Eren hears a smile on Mikasa’s voice, “she told me she found the right someone for her and I think, scratch that, I know it’s you, Eren. So, take the risk and confess to her, you idiot.”

“Do you think she’d accept it? My confession?”

“I’m confident that she will.”

The moment Mikasa hangs up to cook you some breakfast, Eren is already out the door.

You’re in the process of placing things in your school bag for your study session in the nearest library when the doorbell rings.

Mikasa is in the kitchen cooking up a storm, something about giving you a bento box for your grueling revisions so that you won’t have to spend a couple of dollars for a cafeteria ticket, so you’re the one closest to the front door. You leave your bag and belongings on the couch, thinking that maybe Sasha wants to join you and Mikasa for some early breakfast. But then, the girl wakes up in the middle of the day during weekends. You now wonder who’s incessantly pressing the doorbell like they’re a kid in the Halloween season begging for the owner of the house for some free candy that they will neglect after a day. You refrain from grumbling out profanities and quickly open the door without a word. The irritated cloud hanging over your head clears at the sight in front of you. It’s replaced with warmth and a soft tune emanating from your chest.

Eren looks like he’s run a marathon, hands on his knees and hunching on his back to catch his breath.

“Eren, what are you doing here?” You ask him, looking back over your shoulder to check on Mikasa. You turn back to him once you see her preoccupied with cooking. “Come in. I’ll get you some water.”

“No,” he straightens his posture, “I’m alright.” He takes a couple of deep breaths, almost like he’s trying to gather courage. You never take your eyes off him. You’ve seen him with unbound hair; but seeing it after admitting to yourself that you’re having feelings for him, it’s not exactly kind to your heart. The glow of the early sun illuminating the window at the end of the hallway creates this illusion of a halo around his head. With the smile on his face, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes and lets his little dimple peek through, you can’t help but think that he’s here to conduct this song beating inside your chest. You only blink when he sheepishly scratches his nape and says, “Can you come out here for a sec?”

You’re about to peek at Mikasa when he adds, “Please?”

His eyes flicker behind you but he tenderly wraps his hand around your wrist before you can even turn your head and pulls you out of the doorway.

“Eren, what is this about—?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your heart is beating a song and each note is about Eren Jaeger.

“And I have for quite some time. Since freshman year exactly. I’m so fucking in love with you that you’re the first thought I have in the morning and the memory I replay in my mind to sleep at night. You consume me, [Name], and God, I don’t know what I’d do if you start searching for love again. I don’t want you to find the one you’re looking for in someone that’s not me. Call me selfish but I decided that I'd gladly be that just to tell you my feelings. I don’t want to make a regret that will haunt me my whole life onward so, here I am, telling you how much I love you and I don’t want you with somebody else.” He’s breathing heavily again. “Woo, that feels so good to let out,” Eren murmurs under his breath, his head tilted back to blink away any sheen of tears.

Now that he’s said his piece, it’s your turn.

You can’t comprehend looking for any shed of love since you started university when it’s right in front of you — holding your hand when you cross the street, attentively listening to you as you ramble about your newest hyper fixation of the week, hugging you in the middle of the hallway when you have a bad day, kissing the scars you’re unaware of having, giving you the love and appreciation you deserve above all else … love has always been in the form of Eren, one of your best friends. You regret never seeing it come to light sooner. You place the palm of your hand over your trembling mouth. His expression wilts when he sees your teary state. They finally trickle down your cheeks as his large hands cup your face in a hold that says you’re more fragile than a lone bubble drifting in the air. 

“Hey,” Eren breathes, his head ducking to meet your eyes. “Don’t cry. It pains me to see you cry.”

“But you—”

“It’s the truth. But if you feel like it’s making you sad, I’m taking it back.”

“No!” You cover his hands with yours. He blinks in surprise. “I’m just so happy, Eren.” You let out a watery laugh in between his palms.

Eren feels his breath taken away. “What?”

You nod with a large smile. “I’m happy you said those words. I,” you choke up; you haven’t received this intense of a confession in your lifetime, “because I—” he looks so expectant that a little laugh bubbles in your throat. You lean into his touch and beam the most radiant smile you ever give someone, “I’m starting to fall in love with you.” At his stunned silence, you continue. “And I’m sorry for being so late at reciprocating, but don’t worry because I’m saying it back now, Ren.”

Eren explodes, “Fuck yes!”

And then, he hugs you close, letting you hear the tumultuous beat his heart is telling you. His laughter beckons yours to bubble from your chest, molding together harmoniously as the sun fully waves her greeting to the world. He blankets you in one of his embraces, but this time, he’s taking this chance to pull you closer than usual. Eren is this happy to know you are accepting his confession and returning his feelings, how much more if you’re going to build a slow romantic relationship with him? You’re not going to lie, the thought of you and him being each other’s partners spurs spring to grow inside your chest. You place your forehead on his chest for a moment, only pulling away when he once again cups your face in his palms. The melodic laughter coming from you sings its notes with every kiss Eren gently presses on every inch of skin his lips can find. Your forehead, temples, cheeks, eyelids, nose, the corners of your mouth — and all of them tickle each butterfly tingling your stomach. 

He only pauses when he’s in front of your lips. You open your eyes to find Eren staring at you with the immutable essence of love within his limbal rings. His pupils cover the majority of his iris until only a tiny ring of emerald peeks through. Your reflection is clear enough to see your wide-eyed expression. You expect him to kiss you breathlessly, erasing every thought in your brain so early in the morning, but instead, he nuzzles his nose against yours, all the while maintaining eye contact.

“We’ll take this slow, okay?” Eren whispers only for you to hear, not even the potted plant idly sitting by your apartment’s door can listen in. “I know you’re tentative but I’m willing to be patient. I will wait for you no matter how long it takes like I’ve waited three years for you to finally see me differently. And you don’t have to worry because, sunshine, I’m always here to catch you, to care for you, to love you with everything I have. So, are you willing to give me a chance?”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. You nod, “Yeah. If it’s you, I’m ready to give romance a chance again, pretty boy.”

His grin can make a thousand moons shine.

“We have nothing to lose.”

“Yeah.”

“I finally have you with me.”

“I’m now with you, Ren.”

“God, sunshine, I’m so in love with you.”

"And I'm falling for you, pretty boy."