#the best thing about the show (which unfortunately is not enough to continue watching)

[asraindarkness]

vent time! i have to disrespectfully disagree with people who are now suddenly saying "it was clear from the start that bucktommy was just a short-term thing". the whole issue with the argument is this: 911 has never been the best written show, and especially everything after s4 has been capital R Rough. this is no succession, the bear, arcane. you know, tv shows that have incredibly story continuity, character writing, and pacing. people say that bucktommy was not written "well enough" as if that is a valid sign in the 911 universe that the breakup was a sure thing. i call bullshit. when was the last time that the show has wrapped up even the simplest storyline in a satisfying and serious way? when was the last time character development happened and was take seriously? when was the last time the main characters didn't feel stagnant and the stories didn't feel repetitive? when was the last time the show didn't go in circles and choose the easy or sometimes most offensive way out? 911 had enough meat to tell compelling stories for 3 seasons, afterwards it went noticibly downhill. people who say that the "bad writing" of bucktommy should have been a clear sign are talking complete nonsense imo. tommy was the first ever love interest who checked all the boxes, who got verbal approval of bobby (who has watched buck grow and knows him incredibly well and who did notice a positive difference in buck!), who had everything that we have been told buck needs in a partner for 6 seasons. the canon text spelled out: this could be the one.

we were not delusional for that because, once again, i have to point out: the wonky writing is not a bucktommy problem. it has been and still is a general 911 problem. if they butcheted the bucktommy writing while they did great with everything else, yes, then i would agree the signs were there. for 911 standards of writing, which are very low in comparison to good tv shows, bucktommy has actually been done pretty damn great until that fucked up breakup. people say "they didn't even know each other after 6 months" and i retort "athena first admitted that she had a fiance before michael to michael and bobby like 30 years (?) after the fact". this show has been fucking up storylines left and right for years, and most characters and dynamics had many moments that were terribly written and poorly handled and were only enjoyable when you ignored the idiocy of it all. this show doesn't care about timelines, doesn't care about logic, doesn't care to base the drama within the constraints of a realistic depiction of society and laws. it retcons things for shits and giggles. the mains only get through it all thanks to plot convenience and plot armor. like please. we try to find logical solutions (e.g. tommy lands the plane) and the show will choose whatever is the most ridiculous idea (12 yo lands it).

looking at the bigger picuture, bucktommy had incredible potential for 911 standards and could have easily worked long-term if only the writers wanted to do so. the simple problem is: they apparently don't want to put any more work into it. it is as easy as that. many things in this show never lived up to their full potential and got wrapped up in the most ridiculous ways that nobody could have ever predicted. like, my bad for expecting some leftover common sensen and logic in the weewoo show! at this point, it feels like a skit starring clowns that will do the most random shit. rinse and repeat.

in that context and thinking back to all the butchered storylines, bucktommy had actually been a fucking masterpiece so far. now, it unfortunately just joins a looong row of things that could have been impactful and meaningful if only the show had good storytelling.

how could i have ever knew a breakup is coming when the writing literally said i wrote them for 8.05 as an stablished couple who where doing ok just so the breakup could hurt more!!! hurt who??? cuz most of their fandom were queers, so there is that.

and yes i agree with you. i dropped the show after s6 and came back to it ONLY bcz my friend told me buck came out bi and start this season only bcz i was invested in buck and his relationship journey cuz i knew for a fact the other part of this show is not gonna get any better and the fucked that up to.

they only claim they KNEW they’re gonna break up cuz they were saying it since 7.06 lol

and it piss me off when they say there was no chemistry (which i disagree) cuz this is so stupid. lacking chemistry is something WE see as audiences it is not a thing for characters in the story, they don’t see it and they don’t feel it so it can not be a reason for them to breakup, like??????

all and all bddie shippers has been dancing this dance for 7 years now and yk what? i hope they do get what they want cuz 911 is not gonna change the writing so i hope they do get bddie in this exact writing they seem to loooove cuz i know it’s not gonna be all fair dust and unicorns lol

(i still love buck and i hope hope hope they handle his sexuality better at least from now on but im not optimistic)

[ladysophiebeckett]

i finished the ve\lma show and wow. that was an underwhelming finale. i will not be back for the second season. 

[queers-gambit]

Silence

prompt: ( requested ) anxiety plays tricks on your mind, making you mistake your boyfriend's stress for anger - at you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.5k+

note: it's short but to the point.

warnings: cursing, hurt and comfort, depiction of mental health: anxiety, slight self-destructive thoughts.

Silence could be a good thing.

Libraries were silent for ample focus. Theaters were silent during the showing. Sometimes, long drives were peacefully silent.

Silence could also be a bad thing.

Demanding an explanation and the silence stretches. The silence before a doctor delivers life-changing news. Asking someone if they're okay and they don't answer.

When your boyfriend, Carmy, had returned from work that evening, he slammed the front door, dropped his backpack, toed out of his shoes, and stormed around the apartment silently. He didn't greet you, didn't offer a kiss, nothing - just breezed past you as if a pile of dirty laundry he's ignored for the past two weeks. You watched him from the kitchen, sipping a glass of wine, worry sprouting in your gut and chest. It was obvious something was bothering him - but couldn't fathom what it was that made him ignore you; to make him not look at you one single time.

It was like you weren't even there with the way he projected his moodiness. Even on his worst days, he always always always greeted you with a kiss; but the lack of affection hallowed your chest into a pit, wondering what you had done to make him avoid you.

Suddenly, the silence was eerily deafening, coiling your stomach and pumping lead through your veins; no TV or radio switched on to fill the void and create passive, background audio. Carmy was obviously upset about something, but the fact that he didn't even look at you made you think he didn't want to talk. This worried you because before dating, you and Camry Berzatto were the best of friends; talking about literally any and everything you could think of. He came to you with every single grievance, every frustration, every slice of drama - so why wouldn't he now?

Unless... Unless you were the cause of his annoyance? The idea made the pit in your chest stretch to your gut - anxiety rapidly spreading, confusion warping rational thought into something darker and self deprecating. The idea of upsetting Carmy - or anyone, for that matter - was enough to bubble nausea and turn your skin clammy. Muscles tensed, eyes darted, and your mind was plagued with every single thing you had said or done in the past 16 hours.

However, your memory couldn't pinpoint any moment you could've upset him; things had been normal and easy-going lately, there being no clear indication you were the culprit of Carmy's anger. However, there didn't need to be anything clear because your mind was fully convinced you were the bad guy now.

After swallowing a gulp of wine, your eyes adverted to give him privacy and begin on dinner; being obvious that his phone was much more important than you right now. Unfortunately, when it came to picking which sauce to dress your meal with, you were forced to slowly enter the living room where your boyfriend had taken refuge.

"Hey, baby?"

"Hmm?"

You tried not to be offended by his lack of verbal acknowledgement, but your intestines flipped and grew heavy. "Uh, just wondering, you want the marinara or Alfredo tonight with the - "

"Doesn't matter, you choose."

"I mean, which would you prefer?"

"I just said it didn't matter," he repeated with a hardening tone, "it's not like it's a difficult decision to make."

You didn't want to make his attitude worse, so you backed off silently and returned to your task. Yes, yes, Carmy was the professional cook between you but that didn't mean he wanted to come home and continue the act. So, you learned a few new recipes to keep meals interesting - a feat your boyfriend didn't seem to appreciate or even recognize most days. Tonight especially.

Tension tangibly filled the apartment the longer the silence stretched. Your mind conjured a hundred questions at once, begging your mouth to run rapidly if it meant getting answers - yet your logic stuck the words in your throat, refusing to let them fly, and even shoving them deep down for your soul to hold.

You poured a second glass of wine, throat thickening with silent emotion. There was always the worry in the back of your mind that Carmy would one day realize you didn't fit into his life and would break up with you. Or that perhaps, his irritation tonight wasn't due to anything you did specifically, but instead, was attested to your normal behavior and quirks - like the want to talk throughout the day.

Blinking the moisture away, you remembered Carmy hadn't answered a single one of your texts the entire day - a normal act for you, but maybe one that now got on your boyfriend's nerves. You dished up dinner, standing in the open kitchen with two plates and feeling silly for the nerves prickling your skin. You barely noticed the slight tremor in your hands. "Dinner's ready, Carm," you alerted, leaving the plates on the kitchen island you normally ate at; distracted by the need to pour a glass of water.

When you turned, your heart stalled in your chest when you noticed his plate missing - locating him in the living room, again, and it being obvious he didn't intend to eat with you. Now you knew for sure, you had indeed done something. So, you gingerly took a seat and tried to take up as little space as possible; shying in on yourself, eating silently and quickly so you could do the dishes right after.

Sure, there was usually the rule that the cook didn't clean, but there was no way you were gonna ask Carmy to do the simple chore; afraid of pushing him over whatever edge he teetered at. After storing any leftovers, you started the dishwasher and retreated to your bedroom with another glass of wine and the intention to get a bath. You felt like a glaring inconvenience all of a sudden, regret inking your blood and reprimanding yourself for being so - so - so... Clingy?

Is that what it was? Did Carmy think you were clingy? Perhaps texting him throughout the day without him ever answering was the final straw of annoyance he felt toppled the haystack. You wanted to apologize and eliminate the tension, but couldn't necessarily understand what you were sorry for; thinking you were simply paying attention to him, being attentive and interested in his everyday life.

Maybe you needed to apologize for being suffocating? Was that it? Your love was suffocating him? Was he feeling pressured by you? Did he think you two too comfortable in this relationship? Was your wall of texts an indication you were more serious than he? Oh, God, was that it - did Carmy think you were getting too serious, too fast?

Granted it'd been a few years of dating, a lifetime of friendship before that - so how much more serious could you get? Why would your attempts of communication rub him the wrong way? How could the pair of you ever manage to fall off from the same page? Make him think you were pushing for something more? Didn't he know he was enough for you? Didn't he appreciate your presence? The want to be closer? Your desire to maintain the friendship your relationship was built off of? The appreciation you had for him? The support you wanted to offer?

You soaked in epsom salt for the better part of half an hour. Draining the tub, drying off, and changing into pajamas were done silently; feeling almost fearful to venture out of the bedroom to return your wine glass to the sink.

So you decided to just get in bed, figuring if Carmy was so angry at you that it resulted in him ignoring you, he wouldn't want to sleep beside you, either. With your thick framed glasses on, you nestled into bed with your newest novel, trying not to let your mind go into overdrive as your need to fix whatever was upsetting Carmy was overwhelming. Yet there was also the nagging idea that trying to fix whatever was 'broken' would've made things worse - again, resulting in you doing nothing and giving Carmy his space.

The silence haunted the apartment like a ghostly presence; leering over your heads, embracing you uncomfortably.

When the bedroom door opened, you masked your surprise and just read the same paragraph three times in a row - distracted by your boyfriend milling around, preparing for bed. Your eyes widened in shock when the bed dipped and shifted, jostling you as Carmy got into bed beside you, but you still didn't look up from your book.

"What're you reading, sweetheart?"

His mood swings often gave you whiplash. You glanced at Carmy, finger holding your place to let you fold the book over and present the title on the cover. You worried that anything you said and did could make this tension fester, so, you remained silent and went back to reading.

"Is it any good?" He pondered, watching your profile. You nodded mutely, lips slowly rolling between your teeth in a show of anxiety Carmy could now recognize. "Hey, hey, you all right, babe?" He asked softly, sounding mildly confused - perhaps even alarmed.

"Yeah, 'course," you mumbled.

"Well, how was work?"

"Fine."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

There was a brief pause, then Carmy gently pried, "C'mon, baby, what's wrong? Why're you so quiet?" He chuckled gently, "Usually so talkative in the evenings."

You offered him a bewildered look with slightly pinched brows, swallowing nervously and slowly shutting your book to trace the spine mindlessly in an effort to distract yourself. Typically when anxious, your hands needed stimulation, something tangible to do and feel when your mind numbed with nervousness.

With a great deal of bravery, more than you thought was necessary to muster when talking to the person you love, you asked softly, "Are you mad at me, Carm? I mean, did I do something? T-To upset you?"

"Wait, what?" He asked in confusion. "Nah, baby, you didn't do anything, why would you even ask?"

"'Cause you've been ignoring me...?"

He scoffed, "Ah, 'cause I didn't answer your texts?"

"That, and you've been ignoring me in favor of your phone since you got home. Slamming doors, brooding in the living room, didn't eat dinner with me - got a little snappy when I asked what sauce for dinner? Feels like I did something but I don't know what, so I don't know how to fix this."

Carmy sighed, leaning back to the mound of soft and fluffed pillows you had stacked on your shared bed. "Shit," he breathed, huffing a dramatic sigh, "didn't even realize I was doin' all that, baby."

"If you're mad, just tell me what I did - "

"No, no, hey, hey, hey, hey," he rushed, turning on his side to look at you, elbow supporting his weight; clocking the glassiness coating your eyes. "You didn't do anything, baby, I swear. There's nothing for you to fix 'cause you didn't do nothin'. I just - I've been havin' a shit day, didn't realize I was bein' mean to you let alone that you'd take it to heart."

"Kinda hard not to when I'm the only one here."

"No, right, I get that," he sighed. "I'm sorry, baby, I know you get anxious when I shut down like that, but I promise, I'm not mad at you."

"Well, who else would you be mad at? I thought you were annoyed 'cause I was texting you all day. Thought I was, I don't know, being clingy or something since you didn't answer me."

Carmen frowned, "Sweetheart, no, hang on, listen to me. You didn't do anything to upset me, okay? I didn't answer you 'cause I dropped my phone in the sink and it got all glitchy, I couldn't answer you. I tried to fix it when I got home, but I think I fried it - should just get a new one. It was just one of those days that everything went to shit, it all built up, got the better of me."

You nodded, still looking dejected and making a shot of guilt plunge his heart. "You usually talk to me when you're upset," you pointed out softly, "and when you didn't say anything, I thought I was the reason you were upset. Figured you wouldn't talk to me if I did something to cause your attitude."

"No, hey, I'm sorry, c'mere, baby," he opened his arms and curled them around you when you shuffled into his chest. "Shit, I'm really sorry, I didn't even realize what I was doing - but Goddamnit, that's no excuse, though. I don't mean t'take my shit out on you, you don't deserve that."

"I just got a little nervous, maybe let my anxiety get the better of me."

"That's okay," he promised, kissing your forehead, "I can understand why. I was a dickhead, being snappy and ignoring you when all you do is support and love me. I'm real sorry, sweetheart," he sighed against your skin, tightening his arms to keep you cocooned in his warmth. "You know, you can always talk to me - don't gotta shut yourself down and avoid me."

"Do you even hear yourself? Should take your own advice."

"Yeah, I should," he smirked. "Hey, promise I'll do better not to shut down like that."

You nodded in acceptance, wondering softly, "Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever happened today?"

"Uh, nah, you know what? Think I owe you some cuddles, maybe a dessert? You know, to make up for my bullshit attitude."

"You don't have to - "

"I got you all worked up, feels like the least I can do."

With a hum, you smirked, "I won't say no to a slice of cheesecake."

"What baby wants, she gets," he grinned, a hand caressing your cheek to direct your eyes up to his. His thumb swept back and forth under your eye, "Still sorry about today. I didn't mean to be such an oblivious dickhead, I swear."

You nodded, "I know, baby. Just don't shut me out next time. Had me worried when you didn't even kiss me when you got home."

"A heinous crime on my part," Carmy smirked. "Should I remedy that?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't."

He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours in a soothing kiss, hand sliding to the back of your neck. It was a slow and languid kiss, something he took his time in engaging; lips sticking together, moving in-sync, creating chains of saliva when he pushed his tongue against yours. "Yeah," he mumbled, "I'm the dumb fuck who had you thinkin' I didn't want this from you." He pressed another kiss to your waiting lips, "You're intoxicating, baby - always want your kisses. Yeah? Always. The day I don't, take me out back like Old Yeller."

You wanted to voice that he wanted your kisses now until one day, he simply wouldn't - but refrained from doing so because you knew it was just anxiety talking. So, instead, you chuckled at his comment and leaned in to initiate your own kiss.

requesting rules and masterlist

FX's The Bear masterlist

[utterlyotterlyx]

When I Met The Devil

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Part Two to When I Kissed The Teacher which you can read here.

Summary - Azriel adored everything about you, but there was still certain information that you were keeping from him. Azriel finds out exactly what you've been hiding thanks to a particularly unfortunate visit.

Warnings - mentions of sexual abuse and neglect, angst, mentions of trauma

It had been three months since Azriel had taken you on your first (of many) dates. Azriel had been so nervous, not sure where to take you that would be able to live up to your expectations, even Nyx had given him some ideas by babbling on about what made you smile in the classroom.

Apparently you loved nature, of course you did, you were from the Spring Court. So Azriel had packed up a picnic and taken you to a garden of wildflowers away from the city to watch the sunset and gaze at the stars. You had taken his breath away when you had opened the door to him, you had dressed in a loose fitting pale blue dress with white flowers embellished into the bodice, the sleeves hung off of your shoulders and your hair lay unbound down your back.

That day had been one of the best days of his life, he had gotten to know you beyond your profession and learnt so much about you, but the nagging feeling that you were omitting some truth tugged at him, but not enough for him to make a deal about it. Azriel had kissed you under the stars, he had run his fingers through your hair and kissed you so passionately that you swore the world had stopped moving just so it could watch you

Since then, you had been inseparable.

Azriel showed up at the school each day after that, sometimes in the morning at drop off or in the evening at pick up, sometimes both, and he always brought you flowers or chocolates or anything he could think of that would bring a smile to those lips. He would walk you home, but more often than not he would pull you inside the River House and force you to have dinner with them.

You never objected to his wishes, you enjoyed his hands on you far too much to say no.

Azriel was happy to take things slow with you, you were so gentle and pure, if you wanted to wait years to share a bed with him then he was okay with that. You were worth any wait.

One morning you had opened the door to the school, frowning slightly when you couldn't see Azriel or Feyre and Rhys with little Nyx waiting on the grass. They would have told you if Nyx wasn't well and needed to take the day off unless it was serious, but even then, Azriel still would have showed up on the grass with our without Nyx just to see you.

It plagued your mind all day, and you did your best to conceal your worry from the children and continue as normal, but when it came to home time and none of them were there, you knew something wasn't right.

You had locked the room up quickly and stopped by a healer to pick up some infant friendly tonics just in case Nyx needed anything, bundling the vials in your hands as you rushed down the winding streets of Velaris, allowing your feet to take you where you needed to go whilst your mind reeled with endless possibility.

Lifting the hem of your skirt as you ascended the steps of the River House, you completely missed the scent that haunted your nightmares, too frantic with worry to notice it curling around you like chains. Then you saw the back of his head, shoulder length blonde hair and broad shoulders, and then the scent hit you, one of Spring rain and lifeful earth, and you dropped the vials in your hands onto the floor, not even flinching when they broke and cut through your skin.

The thing in question turned his head to the side and sniffed, smirking with feral delight before he fully turned to you, and you saw nothing else but him and those eyes that had made you do things you didn't want to too many times, they were dark and honed in on their prey. His lips tilted upward and he rose to his feet, and you didn't hear anything anyone else was saying or commanding as he strode across the room and stopped right in front of you. You didn't dare look up, you couldn't, and then his fingers gripped your chin harshly and forced your gaze upward.

"I've been looking for you," the room held a collective breath, his shoes crunched down on the broken glass and the liquid parted under his weight.

You knew that they were all watching you, waiting for you to say something, you averted your gaze to Azriel who was on his feet, fists clenched and glowering at the male who dared to touch you, "Nyx didn't show up to school, I thought he was sick, I was bringing tonics."

Feyre rose to her feet beside Rhys, "It's okay, Y/N," her eyes were soft, she could feel your terror, they all could, and then it seemed like your secret and finally been released from the depths of your shame, "Let go of her, Tamlin."

Tamlin chuckled but didn't take his eyes off of you, he cocked his head to the side and breathed you in, "Don't tell me to take my hands off what is mine," his voice was dangerously low, possession had taken over every part of him and the wolf was coming out to play, "Isn't that right, fiancé?"

"I'm not your fiancé," tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes and Azriel saw how small Tamlin made you feel, your shoulders had curled inward, your entire body was preparing to protect itself against the male who held your head in his hands. You looked to Azriel then, "I ran. I couldn't do it," you blinked hard and your tears flowed down your cheeks.

"Just because you ran doesn't mean that the agreement is void, Flower," you cringed, you felt helpless in his grip, like all of the independence you had worked for was nothing but dust dancing in the breeze, "The Tithe has been particularly awful without you."

Azriel lost it then, he grabbed Tamlin by the shoulder and forced him round, the action making his hand jolt away from your face, and Azriel landed a sickening blow to the side of his face.

"This is not a battle you want to fight, Tamlin," Rhys stood beside Azriel who was panting with fury, he knew what the Tithe was, they all did, and the thought of Tamlin using your unwilling body as a vessel for his sickening ritual was enough to send Azriel into a blind rage.

Azriel bent down to Tamlin's level, noticing Feyre rush to your side as he did to comfort you, and growled, "Touch her again and it won't be a battle, Tamlin. It will be a war."

Tamlin had the gall to grin, "She's my fiancé, Shadowsinger. Not even you can get between that."

"No, but I can," Cassian grabbed Tamlin by the neck of his coat, hauling him to his feet in front of Rhys, "Y/N is a member of the Night Court, she is a cherished member of my family. She is not your mate, so you have no claim on her and you know it. Now, leave my city before I cut your head from your shoulders and leave Spring lordless."

Knowing he wouldn't win on Night Court soil, Tamlin scoffed and headed for the door, not before stopping at your side and letting his gaze roam your figure, "They can't watch you forever. I'll see you soon, Flower."

Then he left.

And you stood standing in Feyre's arms pale and frozen, looking at the broken glass on the floor and shaking your head, "I have to go," you announced, peeling yourself out of Feyre's embrace and feeling like a completely awful friend to her, "I'm sorry."

"Y/N.."

You couldn't stick around and listen to her call your name, you couldn't stay there and witness Azriel looking at you like a stranger. So you ran. You ran all the way home, you didn't stop for a single moment until you closed the door behind you and slid down the wood, bursting into chest wrecking sobs.

If anyone would know who you were, it would be Lucien Vanserra, he was Tamlin's friend after all.

The red haired male found himself dragged before the Inner Circle by Elain, a thing he detested, he had just returned from the human realm and wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up with his mate, sitting in front of them was something he wanted to be rid of and fast.

"What do you know about Y/N? She came from the Spring Court," Lucien's eyes widened in saddening alarm at Feyre's question, he looked about the room as if you'd pop out from a corner at any given second.

"She's here?" Feyre nodded, "How is she?"

The question took them by surprise, and confirmed what they already knew, that you certainly we no double agent, but they had to know your story, it was a matter of protecting you, "She could be better. Tamlin was here."

Lucien's eyes darkened into molten lava pools and his nostrils flared, "Did he see her?" the silence confirmed his own query and he looked deflated, his shoulder fell and sadness floated over his face, enough sadness that Elain had moved to his side and wrapped his hand in her own.

"We need to know everything," Rhys ordered, moving his gaze to Azriel who was itching to leave the house and go to you, but even he had to know what had happened.

The Autumn male sighed, feeling conflicted, not wanting to tell your story for you but knowing he had no choice, "Y/N belongs to a very powerful Spring Court family, her father wanted a direct line to Tamlin so offered up his eldest daughter, Y/N, for marriage. Her father was a prick, no doubt still is. He sold Y/N to Tamlin like she was worth nothing more than what she could breed. She tried so hard to put off marrying him, she wanted a long engagement so that she could get to know Tamlin but everyone knew she just wanted more time to find a way out. Then the Tithe came and even I couldn't stop him from taking her into that cave," Lucien looked to Feyre who knew Tamlin all too well to know that what he was saying was nothing but the truth.

"Each year after that first Tithe, he sought her out against her will, you could hear her crying bouncing off of the walls. I couldn't watch it anymore so I helped her escape, I gave her enough money to be able to travel the continent and never heard from her again. I just did all I could to throw him off, to keep him away from her. Y/N was the happiest person in Spring, everyone loved her so much, and Tamlin ruined her."

"Seems like a pattern," Feyre cleared her throat and settled into Rhys' warmth that had wrapped around her like a blanket. She felt horrible, she thought she had it bad, but at least Tamlin never took her against her will like he had done to you repeatedly.

"Feyre I don't want to compare, but you have to understand that what he did to you was not nearly as bad as what he did to her. He took her light away, he forced her into a darkness I've never seen before or seen since, the neglection was sickening, she would cry for days on end, she'd mourn the life she dreamed of. It was unbearable."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, "She made it here though, I knew she'd find where she belonged in the end."

"Why didn't she tell me? I would have understood."

Rhys shushed his mate, he knew how much Feyre loved you, they all did, "Sometimes you don't want to talk about what others made you do," his mind drifted and eyes glazed over as he remembered his own story for a moment, the painful memories tugging at his heartstrings.

Rhys knew how it felt to be used against your own will, he knew how it felt to lie there each night and feel like a worthless pawn in someone else's game. He knew how it felt to work yourself into exhaustion trying to forget the terrors others had willingly inflicted on you.

If anyone could truly understand you, then it would be him. And there was no way he was going to let you lock yourself away and perish with shame when you had a family and life awaiting you.

[roquebr]

The Fury

Barcelona femeni x reader

Aitana Bonmáti x reader

Summary: When all seems lost, a turnaround can be more impressive.

The rocking of the bus gives me a slight feeling of relaxation, my headphones placed carelessly in my ears, with the sound at the highest volume, hoping to hide the prevailing noise of the place.

The youngest girls on the team are very excited about today's game, it's no surprise that we are heading towards the first leg of the Champions League semi-final, simply the biggest European championship. So it's not surprising when some of them are sitting on their benches with greater concentration than the other side, which is a mess.

Everyone has their own way of preparing, mine being to ignore everyone around me as much as possible until we get to the changing rooms, music being my escape point, I always turn to Brazilian music to be my company during these moments, it's a way of feel close to home.

— Meto o chapéu na cabeça ela perde a cabeça e me fala assim... – When the song approaches the chorus, I feel a nudge on my shoulders, I pause the song and look at the intruder who disturbed me and then I relax, yeah Alexia, she knows about my pre-game ritual and I know she wouldn't disturb me for nothing.

—Hey Ale, allright?

— Yes, sorry to bother you, but we've already arrived at the stadium and the girls are already coming down.

— I lost track, I'm going too, I'm just going to get my things — I give a small smile, thanking him for his kindness.

— I see you're a little out of tune, is everything okay? – He places one of his free hands on my shoulder, with the other holding his belongings. I don't know how she manages to balance everything like that, if it were me, my cell phone would definitely be broken on the floor by now.

— Yes, I'm just concentrating on the game, you know how it is, right?

— I understand, but if you need anything you can talk to me. – I don't answer, stopping myself from just returning a kind look.

We continued walking towards the changing rooms, greeting the workers as I passed.

I know that this nervousness is not just because of the game, but because of the desire to show more than my best on the field, having arrived at the club just under a year ago, coming straight as a standout on the Ferroviária, I knew that from the beginning I had to show more than I expected.

I've had a strong presence in many of the 37 unbeaten games played so far, I've been a regular starter, but apparently I'm not good enough to start today.

As soon as Jona announced who would start before we got on the bus, my spirits immediately dropped, I know he decided the lineup thinking about preserving some prominent athletes for possible future changes of keys, but that doesn't negate my feeling of incompetence to start on the bench.

We arrive at the locker room and I immediately head to my cubicle, my headphones that have been stored for a long time no longer deprive me of Rosalía's loud voice that emanates from the absurdly loud speaker in my ears.

I change calmly, but I decide not to wear socks or football boots for now, I'm going to interpret this as a protest for being on the bench today, a bit childish I know.

I sigh and lean my head against the wall, where my game t-shirt used to hang, I watch my happy teammates as they transform and sway to the beat of the music.

I saw my girlfriend of 1 year, we met in October 2022 at Ballon D'or, I went to the event as Marta's guest after telling her in a free conversation that I would like to have the experience of going.

We talked for just over a month and soon we were dating, excited, right, but the feeling was intense and it happened, at first it was difficult because of the distance because I was in Brazil and she was in Spain, but we got through it together, whenever I could I went to visit her. there. Unfortunately, she never managed to go to Brazil, but I will resolve that during our next “vacation”.

Jona arrives in the locker room and starts his usual motivational talk, honestly I don't feel like listening to anything, with my mind confused I just focus on going to the bench.

Sit next to Alexia with Lucy on the other side, the traditional song of the champions plays bringing a smile to my face, regardless of my wounded pride, every time this anthem plays I can't help but get emotional, it's a dream that becomes childhood reality.

The first half of the game was somewhat disappointing, Barça put pressure on Chelsea's marking but unfortunately the defense did not give in, in the 39th minute came the beginning of our fall, taking advantage of a passing error from Irene that gave Chelsea close possession of the ball. to the area, making a respectable exchange of passes until he found a partner in the area, he deceived Keira's marking and passed to Cuthbert who wasted no time in scoring. We came out at half-time with 1-0 to Chelsea.

The atmosphere in the dressing room is very different to when we arrived, the totally dead Barcelona vibe contradicts the emotion I normally feel, word after word, motivation after motivation, all falling on my deaf ears as each teammate seemed focused on acquiring each lyric. said by him.

With a wave of his hand, Jona takes me aside to talk.

— YN, where are your boots?

— It's in the bank, Jona.

He sighs lightly in annoyance, the stress in his shoulders is visible.

— Look, I know you're disappointed that I didn't start today, but please put your boots on, I'll be with you on the field in about 10 minutes.

— Great Jona, I'll put it on.

Returning to the second half, a little more excited, I ask one of the physiotherapists there to put a bandage on my ankle, Sophia is her name, as I injured my ankle during the game I always put a bandage on it to avoid future injuries.

After Sophia finishes, I put on my socks and football boots, I kiss each shin guard before putting them on.

The second half began, Barça had difficulty getting into the game, then a penalty was awarded in our favor, we celebrated along with the cheers of the fans, this would be our chance to continue in the game.

The referee goes to the Var and immediately cancels the penalty, apparently the referee interprets that Salma's offside hinders the defender, nonsense if I may say so.

At 63 minutes Jona makes 2 substitutions, bringing Alexia and Lucy. Ingrid and Ona sit next to me, respectively tired and disappointed with their performances, I give both thighs a comforting squeeze.

I wait anxiously at the edge of my bench for a while, waiting for the moment when Jona replaces me. In the 74th minute, when Ramirez, Chelsea's striker, missed the chance to expand, my heart almost exploded. Patri managed to disrupt her position well, although he still let her to finish the shot.

— Jonas!! – He doesn’t even turn around in recognition.

— Que saco mano. – I go down towards him who was on the side of the field. — Jona, am I going in now?

— Be patient, YN, go to warm up.

A frown appears on my face, but I do as I'm told, not before kicking the water bottle nearby. My companions give me sympathetic looks, which makes me more stressed.

At 78 minutes, the assistant coach says I'm ready and Jona calls me to the sidelines next to him.

— Listen to me, we need you now in this field, are you ready for this challenge. – She pauses only to give the numbers to the fourth referee who is preparing the replacement panel. — We need to decide this game at home, with our fans who came here to watch us play, with courage and love when we enter the field. I know you are ready for this challenge, show who you are and what you came for.

I can't find words, so I just listen, shaking my head with a determined look. I take the place of Mariona, who wishes me good luck, running to my position, passing my girlfriend, blinking and returning to focus on the game.

Time: 80m

In a quick run down the wing, Frido sends it to Caro who tries to finish, the goalkeeper saves but the rebound goes straight to my side, I don't miss the opportunity and send it into the goal. I see Salma grab the ball so we can restart the game, I run back to position, jumping and calling the fans to play together.

Time: 83m

Patri intercepts the ball in midfield, passes it to Aitana who dribbles the opponent, leaving her mistaken, I ask for the ball and soon receive it. I notice that the goalkeeper's left corner is free, I prepare my leg and take a strong low shot, I see the ball roll quickly as the goalkeeper tries to launch himself too late, then you see the net ripple. We changed the course of the game, but it's still not enough.

Time: 85m

Aitana is having an impressive run taking advantage of Chelsea's neglect, a defender in front of her, with options like me on the left and Caro on the right, with Salma right behind. Aita rolls the ball to me, I take a slight touch to the right and shoot with confidence, the ball takes a threatening curve and soon falls into the net, surprising the goalkeeper.

Now I allow myself to celebrate, I run close to the flag post and slide down on my knees, my teammates hugging me and pulling me everywhere, the euphoria was so much that it felt like we had won the Champions League right there. I felt like crying, I scored my first hat-trick in the Champions League

Time: 88m

We receive a free kick after the Chelsea player almost grabbed Aitana trying to take the ball away from her, Salma takes the free kick which hits Lucy's head, who aims the ball towards the goalkeeper's box. She came spinning through the air, landing perfectly at my feet, I beautifully pushed her towards the goal and fell into the hug. With every second that passed the crowd became louder and louder, if possible.

Time: 90m

The gas had not passed, it was getting stronger and stronger, now with a considerable advantage, we preferred to send the team back. Keeping score is crucial for the second leg in England. Although we are currently more focused on defense, that doesn't stop us from also attacking at every opportunity. The team's confidence increased and we played calmer, making more passes and remaining calm when under pressure.

Caro has the ball on the right wing, looks up and sees the perfect opportunity to cross.

Caro's always necessary crossing makes things easier for me, I wait for her to reach the right height before jumping and sending the bike, when I fall backwards onto the grass my pain is numbed by a very loud vibration coming from the stadium.

Barely having time for anything else, I run towards the small Chelsea fans present in the stadium, stop in front of them and place both hands on my waist, with an arrogant posture, soon my teammates come to me in pure euphoria. Many compliments reach my ears, I allow myself to embrace them as much as possible before we have to return to the starting position.

9 minutes of extra time were allowed, nothing else impressive happened during this period, the 3 characteristic whistles were heard. There were many celebrations after we greeted the rival team. I head towards the referee team who hands me the ball.

Jona hugs me congratulating me on a successful game, the team soon arrives and gives me the idea of throwing myself into the air, I try to run away but I'm not fast enough, after the desperate seconds pass I run to the fans, my spirits were high today.

I ask a member of the coaching staff to hold my ball for me, while I jump into the arms of the crowd, doing my best to sign and take as many photos with everyone as possible, the only limit being the barrier.

I feel an arm go around my waist as I sign a Mapí fan t-shirt. I look to the side and see that it is Aitana, who is already looking at me with her beautiful smile on her face, her bright eyes remind me of the constellations.

I can't help but smile with her, our passionate looks betrayed our enormous passion for each other, which doesn't go unnoticed by the public, to everyone's euphoria and my poor heart, she stands on tiptoe and gives a long kiss to the my lips. , fireworks light up in my belly.

Soon the photo of that moment would be published on many pages, one of them was the official Barça account, and certainly on many fan pages that would blow up my cell phone with notifications.

But I couldn't care less, I played an impressive game and had my girl in my arms, could I ask for more than that?.

!!The inspiration for the character to score 5 goals in 10 minutes came from Lewa, when he played for Bayern he did this feat, so I thought “why not put that in the fic?”!" ... sorry for any mistakes, english is not my main language

[notanactressyayy]

Podrías hacerme este pedido: qué pasa con ella? Con Natasha, tu novia. Luego del Blip, se la paso distante -sin esa dulzura que mostraba contigo- o simplemente sin cumplir su papel de novia. Se la pasaba en su oficina, con la mirada perdida y en sus pensamientos - nunca te hablo de eso.

Podrías agregar que cambió cosas en su rutina, como por ej: antes la escuchabas en llamadas con los restantes vengadores, pero eso ya no pasa o la extrañas en tus sábanas - ahora se la pasa despierta.

Por último, el complejo, el cual previamente llamaron hogar y dónde intercambiaban risas o amor mutuo, paso a ser un espacio silencioso, tal vez sombrío, sin amor.

༉‧₊˚. 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x reader

summary . when Natasha met you, you brought the side of her she didn't know before — the happy, gentle, soft side. when something major happens, will she continue to be the girlfriend you deserve? will she allow her feelings and past to take you away from her?

warnings . the blip events, brief descriptions of Nat's past, cursing, yelling, breaking down, breaking up (?), angst.

notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. this fic here is for my big sister @scarjosii22 who couldn't finish her story and asked me to do it for her.

divider credits: @sister-lucifer @i-mmaculatus

part two: loving you from afar (somewhere)

it was another day in which you stared at yourself in the mirror, after brushing your teeth, showering and braiding your hair before sleep — something she used to do. yeah, the dark circles under your eyes certainly grew bigger, that was for sure. a tsk comes out of your lips as you walk out of the bathroom, the only sound echoing through the pavement being your heavy steps.

perhaps you did it on purpose. a little sound was certainly missing in that place.

it had been five years, five years since she started blaming herself for not managing to stop Thanos — Natasha Romanoff, the only one with no superpowers, that had to rely only on her weapons and strength, blamed herself. you tried to talk to her about this, you had multiple conversations, and yet they seemed pointless. that woman was so goddamn stubborn, and never listened to you.

at some point, you'd certainly grow tired of that. and that point had co—

no, it didn't. you told yourself everyday you'd never give up on your relationship. you tried to remember the reason you fell in love with her over and over, to see if that would keep you grounded.

she protected me, she saved me, she showed me i could trust her, she showed me i was enough for her.

it was what she used to tell you, everyday, basically. when you got insecure, about the fact she was powerful and good at so many things, she reassured you you were the best thing that has ever happened to her. that you were the one that saved her. the light on her life.

maybe's just the fact that Natasha never had a relationship before you, so she didn't really know how it was to love and be loved back, or... she just didn't have any experience. but she did. she's a spy, and if there was an Avenger that knew about feelings it was her. you knew for a fact she was aware of how neglected you were becoming in your relationship, but for some reason she chose not to do anything about it.

you walked past the main gate — unfortunately, you had to pass through her office to get to your room — to see her eyes focused on the screen computer. again. watching the faces of the people who disappeared with the blip. you shook your head, sighing in frustration and pulling the computer's wire out of the socket. Natasha frowned, and the words that came out of her mouth cut deep.

"what's wrong with you!?"

"what's wrong with me?" you scoff back. "you're treating me as if i were some stranger, Natasha. i'm your partner. do you recall that?"

she completely ignores everything you say and narrow her eyes at you. she abruptly stands up from her chair and towers you. "i'm working. can't you fucking see that?"

your eyes widen in surprise and honestly, annoyance. it wasn't the first time you confronted her on the week and it wasn't gonna be the last either. "you saw those goddamn slides for a thousand times already, and literally! do you think staring at them will bring them back? keep dreaming, then,"

that statement intrigued her. she took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself, gulping audibly. her only answer was to turn the computer on again and turn her back on you.

"good night, Natasha." you tell her, not realizing the one tear rolling down your face. "i'm going to sleep now."

and with that, you took the elevator to the dormitories floor and entered your shared room with her, practically throwing your slippers away and tucking yourself under the covers, the cold, empty sheets.

you missed her there. god, you did. your body subconsciously snuggled up against the blanket as you grabbed the pillow that once belonged to to her, and held it tightly. and you just, cried.

༉‧₊˚. ★

Natasha didn't sleep, those weren't news. she stayed the night on the sofa of her office, staring at the big glass window there. the colour pallette of the garden outside reminded her of herself. dark green, grey, navy blue, and black. the nature was already dead because no one bothered to go outside and take care of the plants.

she couldn't brush away the thought of the similarity between that and your situation with her. you were drowning, and she wasn't even trying to pull you out.

the compound was empty. no more jokes. no more laughter. no more the Avengers and certainly no more Natasha. the russian woman thought of that as a punishment for her uselessness. she was purposefully dragging herself away from you, so with that you'd probably find another partner, someone else who wasn't broken like her, that could give you the love you so desperately needed. or, a tiny, tiny piece of her wanted someone to suffer like her, to feel everything she felt. but that wasn't something she was going to admit. was it?

so she just laid back against the backrest and stared at the ceiling, trying to calm down her racing thoughts but failing.

some of the superheroes tried to get in touch with her by the communication channels, but she wasn't accepting the calls. she'd given up on leading the Avengers. it wasn't her job anyway.

her best friend, Clint, was out there killing people like she once did. Steve had a support group for the people who didn't snap, but she thought it was bullshit to join. so she lived within the four walls of the office, trapped, unable to get out.

༉‧₊˚. ★

the saliva you swallowed dragged across your sore throat, making you hiss out of pain. this morning, you were trying— no, you were determined to give yourself a good time, regardless of that sounding insane on the current circumstances. a girlfriend who didn't love you anymore and half of the world gone? what a great way of living.

you searched inside the pantry for the strawberry tea and made yourself a cup, heating it on the microwave. you leaned against the counter and waited for it to get ready. while waiting, you took a moment to glance around. you smiled when your eyes landed on a specific plushie resting on a corner. a turtle plushie you and Natasha used to take care of together.

when the microwave clicked, you grabbed the tea and took a sip of it, the strawberry flavor, along of the warmth of it were a momentary relief, for all the mess going on there. speaking of mess, it was the definition of the person who had just walked in the kitchen.

"good morning, Nat," you murmur, attempting to be friendly. "i made myself some tea. would you like so—"

"just here to get some aspirin." she quickly, roughly cuts you off, opening the cabinet and searching through it. instead of taking one, she opened the bottle and turned it on her mouth, taking all the pills at once.

your eyes widened. what the hell was she doing? trying to dope herself and not even hiding? your feet moved faster than you as you grabbed her chin with one hand, as your other one practically punched her on the back, making her cough all the pills out.

instead of speaking, you take a moment to process what just happened. you frustratedly run your fingers through your hair, pacing around the kitchen. "look. if you don't want to have a good day, that's fine by me. but if you're not giving me a good day, at least allow me to have it myself. please?"

"i'm minding my business," she coughs out, dull eyes looking into yours. "you don't have to get in my way."

"you literally almost killed yourself in front of me!" you snap, a sudden rush of anger washing over you. "what the fuck do you expect me to do in a situation like that, huh? do you want me to sit here and enjoy the freaking view, to watch you as you slip away from me!?''

Natasha's body involuntarily shake as you yell. she didn't like yelling. it was what triggered the tears pooling on the corners of her eyes.

"tell me, Natasha. what do i have to do for Thanos to snap me away too!?" you scoff and throw the porcelain cup on the skin, the sound of the shards shattering filling the place. "because i really wish i disappeared too. would you like that?"

you breath heavily after the outburst, eyes watching as her body sunk down to the floor. her eyes were wide in fear and shock. it wasn't a pleasant view. you gulp and walk towards her. "i'm sorr—"

"get away!" she yells back, stumbling backwards as if you were some monster. "leave me fucking alone!"

"Natasha, i don't wanna hurt you—" you try again, frowning and trying to reach out for her.

loud sobs escapes the redhead, and she doesn't try to suppress them. she body is a mess autopilot working and everything is way too confusing for you to understand. she buries her face in her hands and refuses your comfort. so you sit on the floor as well, leaning against the cold wall but keeping a good distance between you two — hearing her cries.

༉‧₊˚. ★

the tension was palpable between the two of you. you were way too tired to have another pointless conversation with her, so you stayed quiet. it was already night again, 6pm precisely, and neither of you had left the kitchen. when you looked to the side, you saw Natasha's eyes still open. she was still listening.

"i'm still here," you begin, lifting your hand up and staring at the ring on your finger. "loving you silently."

Natasha's eyes barely flicker with the sound of your gentle voice. but she stays quiet.

"i still imagine myself getting hugged by you. having your kisses. having your body close. having you close. i miss all of that. i miss when you listened to me," you chuckle humorlessly, grabbing a shard of porcelain and fidgeting with it. "i miss my Natasha."

"stop," she quietly pleads, squeezing her eyes shut. "please stop."

"you're so selfish. you became so selfish." you sigh, weakly standing up. you open the sink faucet and throw a little bit of fresh water on your face. "trying to protect yourself, trying not to face the truth. you don't even think about me anymore."

when she doesn't speak, you continue.

"i could help. i helped you before, didn't i? i helped you with everything you ever asked me for. i helped here, your team, because i'm good at what i do. that's why Tony hired me. because i was good for all of you. i got a room in the Avengers Compound. but this?" you gesture around. you raise your voice again, but not yelling — just as if you wanted somewhere to hear. "this seems like a haunted house! where's all the people in here!?"

Natasha stands up, her red baggy eyes looking into yours as she pointed a finger at you. "it's not gonna change. there's no point in trying to."

"really? you don't say," you laugh dryly and shrug your shoulders. "i realized that a long time ago."

you take a deep breath, shaking your head. you had no tears left to cry, really. you shed so much for her, and for everything around you. the next thing you did surprised Natasha — but not as much as she thought it would.

you carefully slip the ring out of your finger and placed it on her hand, folding her fingers around it. your lips pressed on a thin line. "i love you, Natasha. i always will."

she clears her throat, feeling her eyes begin to burn again.

"when you become the Natasha i love again, please let me know."

part two: loving you from afar (somewhere)

(aí está, @scarjosii22. espero que você goste dessa, e espero que você pegue as referências do chá, e da tartaruga 🐢🍓)

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Anyone but me

Insecure!Logan x Fem!Reader

warnings: Cursing, Insecure Logan

A/N: Here’s something short, I wasn’t gonna post since today makes 10 years since my grandpa passed but I didn’t wanna make today abt me. Enjoy.

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

Another race. Miami had been another race this season that has been shit for Logan. Why was something always fucking it up for him?

First they gave him shitty cars, then whenever they did give Logan a somewhat good car, he wasn’t driving it the way he should, then they gave away his car to Alex after he crashed his. Now he had to retire the car because KMag decided to crash into him?

It’s almost lil the universe is against Logan and his time in Formula 1, which might I add is utter bullshit.

Logan hasn’t been the best driver and I knew that, but I didn’t fall in love with him because he’s a formula 1 driver, no, I fell in love with him because he’s always been there for me even when he was going through his own problems and has never once complained about it (him being a famous driver was just a perk).

Logan and I have been together for just over 2 years which means I’ve seen the best and worst of his career, but right now after he got hit at his home race was heart wrenching.

I stood by the tv screens that showed his camera footage live from his car and my hands shot up to my face when I saw the impact of the crash. The crash wasn’t what made my heart shatter for him though, no, instead it was the live radio feed from him to pit that I was currently listening to.

His groans of pain and the tremble in his voice asking if he did anything wrong was what hurt. He was so worried and scared that he fucked up something whilst driving that he didn’t pay attention to whether or not he was hurt.

They replayed that crash maybe a dozen times and each time felt like it stung worse than the previous one before it. I watched as they got the track clear from any debris and brought Logan and the car back to the Williams garage. The look of red eyes and tear stained cheeks was the sight I was greeted with.

I would’ve done anything to take his pain away in that moment. Hell, I would do anything to make sure he never felt pain again. But unfortunately, I can’t. So I had to suffice for the next best thing, comforting him.

I walked over to him and the second he turned and saw me walking over with a somber look on my face he rushed into my arms, pulling me into a tight embrace before absolutely sobbing.

The team around us walked off allowing us a moment of peace while I comforted my boyfriend. His face was in the crook of my neck as he shook with violent sobs and I rubbed my hands up and down his back trying to soothe the ache in his heart.

“Logan you did amazing, it wasn’t your fault. I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far, I love you so much” I whispered in his ear as I kissed the side of his head.

We stayed like this for a moment, as Logan continued to sob I continued to try to soothe him and murmur sweet nothings in his ear with more small kisses on his head.

After a moment or two, I felt Logan pull away before he looked me in my eyes. I could tell he wanted to say something.

“What happened, Baby?” I whisper as I bring my hands up to his face to wipe his tears away

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispers, his voice breaking again as he moves my hands from his face

“Lo, don’t” I say, tears of my own springing in my eyes

“No Y/N/N, please. I don’t deserve you. I’m not good enough, you deserve to be with someone who wins and makes podiums. Not me, someone who finishes last or doesn’t finish at all.” by the time Logan was done berating himself, I was the one sobbing.

“Logan Hunter Sargeant. Stop talking like that. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. There was before you, during you, and I never want there to be an after you. I have never loved anyone more than I love you. My heart is so filled with happiness and you’re the reason. You’re the reason I’m still alive today, I have the best life right now and it’s because of you. So please don’t break my heart because you feel like I don’t deserve you, because I never want to live without you. So unless you’re unhappy in our relationship, we are not breaking up. Are you unhappy with us?” Tears were falling like waterfalls from both of our eyes.

“No, I love you too much. I just don’t want you to be with a loser like me” My hands shot up to his face and I made him look at me

“Stop it, I’m not leaving you. I’m staying with you whether you win 100 grand prixs, 1 or none. I’m here until the Lord takes me from this earth. I promise” I said as I placed a sweet and sincere kiss on his lips before we rested our foreheads together

“I’m here always and forever”

taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99

[gay-wh0re-slut]

I have a request...Dom!Rhea x Fem!reader in which the reader is caught masturbating and Rhea punishes her by causing many orgasms and overstimulating her

AAAYYYOOOO this is hot yall have some of THE best ideas i can’t thank yall enough for feeding into my slutty writing hehehe

i hope you enjoyyyyy

Wait

rhea x fem!reader

content: thinking about ur hot buff gf so you get busy by yourself but she catches you 😌 (masturbation, vibrator, oral, fingering, choking, strap, degradation and praise, super overstim and multi-gasms, slight sub!rhea)

Monday nights were always so lonely because Rhea was in a random city and you had no clue when she would be back home. The weeks she was gone felt like forever, luckily, sometimes she was only gone for a few days and was able to come back home for a day or two before flying off to somewhere new.

The two of you weren’t shy about sending some spicy pictures when you were alone in bed, the only rule was that it had to be over instagram so that they couldn’t be saved and potentially be leaked, for both of your sake.

Tonight, you were lying in your large bed that you shared with the wrestler, watching Monday Night Raw.

“Here in Orlando, Florida!” said the announcer.

You were grateful that she finally had a show in her home town so you knew she wasn’t far away. As the show went on, she was looking especially good tonight in her gear and makeup. The way her top accentuated everything just right, and her shorts were a little cheekier than normal. Her makeup was more eccentric than her normal purple eyes and her hair was thick with sweat from her match. The way she ran her hand through her hair as she stared down her opponent made you feel some type of way.

You didn’t notice you were constantly shifting and squirming in the bed until she finally pinned her challenger staring hungrily right into the camera. She threw the woman to the side and you couldn’t help but wish that you were the one being thrown around.

Finally giving into your cravings after the show ended, you send a sneak peek of your hand under the waistband of your pajamas shorts with the caption ‘you look so good tonight baby’.

She sends one back of her biting her lip, ‘you better wait until I get home’. You huffed at her response. You were getting more and more turned on as you thought of the many things she could do to you.

‘Hurry, please, I need you bad’ you sent her a pic of your hand out of your pants to prove you were waiting.

The next pic she sent was in her car, ‘don’t worry baby I’m coming’. Her makeup still on and her hair messy from her night. You loved her no matter what but you loved getting to mess up her makeup more than it already was; you also didn’t mind the black lipstick marks she would leave on you.

Although you knew she was coming home soon, you truly did try your best to keep from pleasuring yourself, but you couldn’t help it. You tried reading, you tried watching the show that came on after RAW, you tried every social media platform but everything reminded you of her and the ache you needed to soothe.

You felt a bit guilty but you did it anyway. You slipped your hand down and onto your throbbing center. Grazing your fingers over your folds, you felt how wet she made you without even being here. You started to gently draw small circles over your clit causing a small moan to come out. As you continued, you closed your eyes and imagined that it was her hand, pleasing you, making the pressure in your stomach rise, thinking about how she knew just what to do with you and how good she made you feel.

You were so immersed in this fantasy that you didn’t hear her come through the garage door calling for you, mainly because the TV was loud but you were so far gone already that it didn’t matter.

Unfortunately for you, you were making just enough noise to where she could figure out what you were doing before she walked into the bedroom.

You were going full force, your pace was fast but steady as you were arching your back, whining for the release. The pressure was close to its breaking point.

She crept into the bedroom watching you squirm under the covers until she could tell you were about to cum and she ripped the covers off of you, “What did I say?” she growled.

You screamed in shock, “SHIT!” you immediately pulled your hand out, “don’t do that! I thought you were a murderer!” you scrambled up onto the pillows muting the TV.

“You didn’t do as I said,” she stood over you.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you whined, “You just look soooo good tonight I couldn’t help it,” your center was aching for a release.

“You will definitely be sorry,” she said in a low voice before throwing off her tshirt and sweatpants revealing she still had her gear on.

“So you wanted me to take it off, huh?” you poked the bear.

Ignoring your question, “You couldn’t even wait for me to drive the thirty minutes to get here,” as she climbed on top of your straddling your hips.

“I’m so sor-”

“God you’re such a slut,” she put her hand over your mouth to stop you from saying anymore. “I was thinking in the car about all the things I could do to you…”

Your eyes were wide and your breathing was labored but you didn’t dare try to speak.

“…but you’ve just made it so easy for me,” her voice was deep and calm which scared you and turned you on at the same time. “Mmm,” she snapped the fingers of her free hand, “you were gonna be treated so well. I was going to take my time, really take my time, make you feel so good,” she leaned over you coming face to face with you, “but you don’t deserve the princess treatment,” she whispered.

If she barely grazed your core right now you’d be done for, immediately. She forcefully let go of your mouth as you took in a deep breath, still not saying anything.

“Since you want to be a whore,” she bent over you opening the drawer to the nightstand, “you’re gonna be treated like one,” and she pulled out the vibrator.

You knew you would be here for a while when she pulled that out. Your heart was in your ass but you couldn’t be more turned on. You gulped in response watching her situate herself on top of you to get the best position. Once she was comfy, with your legs spread and her kneeling in between them, she turned it on. It automatically starts at the lowest setting which you were grateful for. You were also grateful that she decided to keep your pajama shorts on…for now.

Placing the wand just barely on your already swollen clit, you immediately moaned at the touch.

“I’m gonna get you so close over and over until you’re crying to cum for me, then maybe I’ll let you,” the australian accent barked.

“Fuck,” you whined as she pushed it harder onto you, “p-please don’t,” you lied.

“If you listened in the first place, we wouldn’t be here,” as her free hand glided up your leg.

You were fisting the sheets below you, breathing heavily as you whimpered quietly. Because of the event prior to her walking in, you were already close so it didn’t take long for the familiar feeling to creep back up again. And she could tell too, your breath gets shallower and faster and your legs tense up just before.

She left her hand on your thigh, waiting for the signal and there it was. As soon as your legs twitched she pulled the machine away from you.

You growled in frustration, slamming your fists down.

“Aw, someone’s all worked up,” she mocked.

She let you catch your breath, eyeing her smirking devilishly at you. Once your legs became relaxed again, she placed the vibrator back onto you, with more pressure this time.

“Oh god,” you moaned, arching your back and the process started all over again.

Heavy breathing, clenching fists, legs tense up, remove the machine.

Replace the machine, heavy breathing, clenching fists, legs tense up, remove the machine.

Replace the machine, heavy breathing, clenching fists, legs tense up, remove the machine.

Replace the machine, heavy breathing, clenching fists, legs tense up, remove the machine.

Your legs were shaking so badly now it was hard for her to determine if you were tensing or not so she decided to finally take off your shorts. As her tattooed hands peeled them off you, a pool of your wetness seeped out onto the bed below you.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” she smiled evilly, “all because you couldn’t listen,” she sighed dramatically.

“Please let me cum,” you whined, “I can’t do that anymore, please.”

“Don’t worry babygirl, you’ll get there,” she finally turned it off and set it aside. The wrestler easily scooted herself back towards the foot of the bed using your legs as leverage.

You groaned in response but it quickly turned into a moan when her tongue pressed against your wet folds. She lapped up as much as she could before she began to suck on your tired clit.

“mmmmRheaaa, please,” you breathed.

“You know the rules,” her voice was deep as she stared at you with those sapphire blue eyes.

One of her hands that was holding your legs open, moved to your entrance, asking to go in. Without much warning, she easily slipped two fingers inside of you slowly, letting you feel her the whole way.

Your back arched as soon as she did, slamming your eyes shut. “F-fuck,” you whined as she slowly began to pump in and out of you while her tongue continued to work. You could feel her smiling into you which drove you crazy.

Not too long after, your walls began to clench around her fingers and your legs tensed up once more, but in a matter of a second she pulled out and sat up.

“Fuck!” you yelled in frustration covering your face. Tears were forming under your hands but you didn’t want to let her see. You quickly wiped them away but avoided eye contact.

All she did was chuckle as she slinked off the bed. You didn’t want to know what she was doing because you were too upset so you closed your eyes and tried to drown out any noise.

After a few minutes you felt her climb back on top of you so you finally looked at her. “Damn it,” you sighed as you spotted the strap she had put on.

“Aw, come on now, princess. I thought you loved this,” she said mockingly.

“Yeah, when I’m not mad,” you shot back.

She immediately lunged forward and gripped around your neck with her hand, your eyes widened as you held onto her wrist trying to catch your breath.

Her eyes turned dark, “a slut like you should be grateful I’m even here to begin with,” she snarled. “You’ve been doing so well,” her eyes softened, “don’t fuck it up,” her voice was deep again. She held on a little longer to get her point across before she let go.

“I-I’m sorry,” you forced out, “I won’t.”

“Good girl,” she held out her hand, cupping it in front of your face, knowing she didn’t have to say anything for you to know what to do.

So you spit in her hand then watched her spread it over the strap. She readjusted herself to get it positioned just right. She basically folded you in half before leaning on her hands that landed beside your chest. Her thighs held your legs open as best she could. She looks down at your wet center as she guided in the fake dick.

“Oh god,” you gasped gripping onto her large biceps.

Ever so slowly, she watched it move in and out of you. Once she was satisfied with how it was going, she finally looked at you, “Since you’ve done soo good for me, I’ll let you cum…”

“Thank-”

“Over and over and over,” her thrusts became more frequent.

You groaned at her but didn’t want to make her more mad so you opted not to say anything. Her pace quickened and it didn’t take long for the pressure to build up again seeing how it had been there since the beginning.

Your nails dug into her arms as your legs began to shake again, your breath was leaving your lungs but you managed a quiet, “please.”

The black lipstick smiled devilishly at you, “do it,” she commanded.

And so you finally did. Your back arched as best it could, your legs shook vigorously, your hands slammed onto the bed, and you screamed in pleasure. You came so hard you were seeing stars.

Her hips kept plunging into you letting you ride it out but she had no plans of stopping there. In one swift movement, she pulled out, flipped you over, hiked your hips up and shoved it back into you.

“Holy fuck…yes,” you whined as she continued to wreck you.

She was gripping onto your hips, slamming you back into her, going as deep as possible. “Again,” was all she said.

After about a minute or so, the pressure was right back where it belonged. Hearing her labored breathing and small grunts helped you over the edge. The next one came unexpectedly but you didn’t mind and neither did she. You screamed once more as you bit down onto the sheets. Giving you a slap of satisfaction on your ass, you slid off the strap when she pushed you to the side.

She laid down next to you on her back and pointed at her hips, “sit.” When she was determined and in a mood she didn’t speak much, but she didn’t need to.

Weak and sweaty, you slowly sat yourself onto the dick. You grinded against her, feeling it swirl around inside you. You threw your head back, “mmmm,” as you leaned yourself on your hands that were stationed on her thighs.

She gripped your shirt that you forgot you had on and pulled you forward. She finally gave you a sloppy kiss, moaning into the sensation which sent shockwaves through your body. You loved hearing her. Letting go of the kiss, she held your hips and guided them up and down, making you bounce on the strap.

You tried to hold yourself up on your hands but you were too weak so you laid on top of her resting your head on her shoulder. You whined and moaned with every bounce into her neck.

“Mmmfuck…baby,” she breathed. This made you notice that she was getting off on this. You weren’t exactly sure how but you didn’t question it. Hearing her moan gave you a second wind, so you sat up, braced one hand on her thigh and cupped her face with the other, grinding and bouncing on the dick determining what she liked best.

As you rode her, the hand on her face moved to her neck and gripped as best it could but it wasn’t even close to her strength. She didn’t mind though because she moaned loudly at the feeling, sending her eyes rolling back into her head.

“God,” you growled, “you feel so good.”

She whimpered in response, and dug her nails into your hips.

Finally focusing back on yourself, you realized that the familiar knot was back. It wasn’t much longer until you released once more, doubling over her, shaking and crying out in pleasure.

And she followed soon after. “OH FUCK,” she screamed as she arched her back pushing her stomach into you. Her hands flew to your hair and back gripping and clawing their way through it. The two of you rode it out as long as possible.

You slowly got off of her and slumped beside her. You were both breathing heavily with your eyes closed taking in the moment. Neither of you could speak, you were so drained.

After a minute or two she slipped out of the strap and dropped it to the floor with a thud. “Was I too harsh?” she said weakly.

“Not at all,” you finally opened your eyes to look at her but she was already looking at you.

She gave you a sly smile, “so you liked the look tonight?”

“Ffffuck yes.”

[chirpsythismorning]

Can we talk about how Jonathan might've been able to clock Mike simply because of what happened with him and Nancy in season two?

This will be a long post, so you might want to strap in or save it for later.

In Will and Mike's case, it would obviously be much different from Jonathan and Nancy's situation, given that you know, they're gay. But we still have Jonathan arguably going through a similar experience as Will, while Mike is going through a similar experience as Nancy.

In s2, we see Nancy confront Jonathan about how she waited for him before getting back with Steve, which is a revelation to him. Then they're at Murray's and she's struggling to say she loves Steve, after a handful of moments between them that felt like she might return Jonathan’s feelings. And you can clearly see it in his eyes, listening to Murray imply that they have feelings for each other, with him looking back and forth sort of in awe of what's happening, like he's starting to question if she might actually like him back.

Will doesn't have that same affordance as Jonathan to really hope, at least not anymore. Which is why these relationships in s2 and s4 end differently for these two brothers.

Based on all the signs he was seeing that Nancy felt the same, Jonathan decided to take the plunge to admit to Nancy how he felt, and at that same moment Nancy had the courage to show how she felt. In Will and Mike's case, Will wasn't ready to take the plunge to admit to Mike how he felt, at the same moment Mike didn't have the courage to show how he felt.

What's so painfully hilarious to me about all of this though, is that Jonathan arguably starts the season in the same shoes as most of the audience, where from his perspective, it's becoming obvious to him now that Will like's Mike, but that Mike does not feel the same way.

First at Rink-O-Mania, Mike appears a little uncomfortable upon hugging Will. Then as the happy couple continues on their adventure into Rink-O-Mania, he watches Will lagging behind moping. And then unfortunately he's out of commission for the rest of the evening...

But once he's sober and back to being an attentive brother the following morning, we see him watching them at breakfast, with Mike barely sparing Will a glance, all while Will is blatantly staring, almost like he's waiting for Mike to look back, only for Mike to get up and walk away.

All of these instances gotta be SCREAMING unrequited gay love to Jonathan. He's already gotten signs for years that Will is gay, these are now just the signs that are instilling his suspicions that Will has feelings for Mike. He could have easily interpreted their relationship in the early seasons as young best friends, with Will seeming to have a crush on Mike, and with them growing up and that potentially including Will's straight friend distancing himself from him because he doesn't feel the same. It's not the most unexpected thing in the world considering.

But then there's a shift.

Suddenly he's creeping up on them talking in his room. And we know he was listening in on the conversation because he brings up Owens when he sits down. As he's eavesdropping, he's probably thinking something innocent like Aww they're making up! And like, hey! Even if Mike doesn't feel the same, which is okay and entirely expected honestly, at least he still cares about Will enough to make things right after acting so out of character. Still, I'm not gonna lie, that sounded a lot like flirting to me--

Then he's knocking on Will's door like 30 minutes or less later only to find Mike and Will back on their bullshit. Mike suddenly isn't going out of his way to ignore or put Will on the back burner. In fact, he's on his bed and they're talking, again! The door is even closed this time, which is interesting. This has gotta be a good sign in Jon's eyes. Nothing to worry about! Right? Right...?

But then suddenly this shift continues, going in a direction he probably didn't expect.

I mean, this is literally an identical jancy parallel we have here with byler on the hood of the car, with Jonathan right there to witness it. Despite him maybe only now subconsciously picking up on the similarities between Will and Mike to him and Nancy here, he's at least taking note (I mean he's even got his gay map out and everything).

It isn't until the van scene happens, that I think Jonathan starts to genuinely consider his suspicions, which is that Mike might actually like Will back.

EVERY time we get a shot of Jonathan looking back at Will and Mike in the van, followed by a shot of his POV from the rearview mirror, we're faced with Mike looking at Will while Will is looking away.

As Jonathan is hearing Will confirm his suspicions about his feelings for Mike, he's simultaneously witnessing Mike not looking at Will with disgust, but something more akin to reverence. All of those moments in the van that we witnessed, including all the ways Mike looked at Will and everything that was said, Jonathan was right there.

And what's even more insane about this scene, is that it circles back to Jonathan as a character himself.

I remember when people were talking about how odd it was that we never saw Jonathan with a camera in s4. After 3 seasons in a row of making his passion for photography a big part of his identity, that part of him was apparently absent entirely this time around... But was it really?

This is the same guy that said, "Sometimes, people don't really say what they're really thinking. But you capture the right moment, it says more."

Jonathan might not have had his camera in s4, but this was without a doubt one of those moments where he captured something more.

Something that I also think get's highly overlooked about this scene, especially when it comes to Jonathan looking back at them, being followed by a shot of Mike staring at Will, is that he could see both of their reactions the whole time, from beginning to end. Will nor the audience had the affordance of knowing because Will was facing the other way at the end, while we on the other-hand were blurred from even having the chance, despite Mike literally being in the frame. But not Jonathan. He even lets us see what he sees, a few times, but not at the very end, which would have been nice after they didn't let us see Mike's reaction seconds before this.

Let's just stop right there for a second though and circle back to what I consider to be the first time Jonathan really picked up on Will's feelings for Mike, which was at the end of s3, in a sequence that is a little too relevant to the van scene if you ask me, given that they are almost direct parallels.

While these parallels are pretty spot on visually, they are also near spot on narratively when it comes to the evolution each of these characters are experiencing.

For Will in the first scene, it's sadness that he's moving away from his friends in Hawkins and also feeling like he's losing Mike, after what looks like him and El making up, which makes him scared he'll distance himself again. For Jonathan, it's sympathy for his brother who appears to have some very deep feelings for his friend, feelings he can't quite grasp yet but soon enough will.

For Will in the second scene, it's heartbreak that he has to accept that Mike will never feel the same, knowing that supporting his relationship with El (encouraging it honestly) will likely turn out just as it did last time, with him losing Mike all over again, for the last time. For Jonathan it's sympathy for his brother who has now confirmed his suspicions that the feelings he has for Mike are more than just that of a friend.

Given that this parallel reinforces the same feelings Will and Jonathan had in s3 to now, why would this not also reinforce those same feelings that Mike had in s3 to now?

In the first scene, Mike was visibly distraught, with dialogue from Hopper in the background applying a little too perfectly with what he was feeling in that moment, which was scared. He’s apparently back together with El now, despite them doing just fine as friends for the last 3 months, as well as him and Will just having finally gone back to them being on good terms again. But now, it’s like he’s right back where he started at the beginning of s3, feeling obligated to be the perfect boyfriend to El, and as a result, having no choice in his eyes but to distance himself from Will. Mike then walks into his house looking like a zombie, almost emotionless stepping into his mother's embrace.

Now, I say almost emotionless because it looks like Mike was trying to hold back showing how he truly felt in this moment. He's not crying like he did in s1 when he lost Will that first time. Time has passed and things have changed (he doesn't want things to change). And he's trying his best to keep it together. But the in-focus close-ups make it clear that he is definitely not okay.

What's so impactful about these parallels is that it presents the inner struggle both of these characters are having, both queer and experiencing doubts, but in different ways and for different reasons.

Will is the one who covers it all up with lies, hiding the tears in his eyes, because boys don't cry.

Mike is the one who has never cried to them, just to his soul (RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!).

If you actually try to get a gage on Mike's in-focus emotions in that first scene vs. his out-of-focus emotions in that second scene, well they're not that far off from each other.

We go from Mike smiling vibrantly at Will, to him now slowly turning away to look back down at the painting, with whatever the hell emotion this is...

It's near impossible to catch because of how out-of-focus it is, but looking a lot closer, it honestly appears like Mike is feeling something akin to sadness that he's trying to mask. For a moment it even looks like he turns his head to wince emotionally, only to correct himself.

And call me crazy, but these shots also low-key parallel each other. Mike looking down trying to keep his emotions in check and failing miserably, only to look up and meet eyes with someone whose witnessing it.

With each shot before this of Jonathan observing Mike looking at Will, with him showing all the emotions Will never got to see and everything else in between, I wonder what Jon saw this time? Probably another thing he didn't expect.

Can you just try to imagine the silence in this van, accompanied by Will's muffled sobs, and then try to imagine Mike turning to look down at the painting, only to sneak a glance, and then go right back to looking at the painting, IN SILENCE, and then try to tell me how the assumption that Mike didn’t notice Will crying makes any sense, like realistically?

Yeah me and Jonathan are confused too.

Right now, Jonathan's probably wondering why Mike was acting a little fruity and repressed during the painting reveal. And that although he may have a penchant for being able to 'capture the right moment', Mike is sticking with his story (despite all the stalling and doubt). He is 100% straight!

And so maybe this is where Jonathan tries to accept what is being presented to him as the truth, despite the contradictions in front of him. It's likely that despite the way Mike looks at Will and acts around him, in ways he would have assumed coming from Nancy in s2 would've been evidence that she felt the same, it probably doesn't apply to Mike.

Maybe Jonathan's ready to accept that it's a lot more likely Will is experiencing unrequited love as a gay kid growing up in a small town, the most predictable experience a gay kid could go through, and in contrast Mike just feels too bad to let Will down easy.

Or who knows, maybe Mike could still be a little bit gay too...

But it doesn't matter anyways. Mike seems to be adamant about this and so there's really nothing else Jonathan can he do besides tell his brother he'll be there for him no matter what. And so he does just that.

But then Mike just has to surprise him one last time.

For those that don't know, the line Mike gives here in his monologue was in part pulled from Will's monologue in the van. Most don't know this because this line didn't make the final cut for the van scene, but in the official script the writers posted, what we find is an almost a direct parallel.

Which makes the reaction shots of Will and Jonathan directly after Mike says this all the more epic.

From Will's end he was probably hearing Mike say this and just thinking 'Damn. Well, that's what you get for using your feelings to inspire Mike to profess his love to El.'

But from Jonathan's end, I don't think his outside POV of these events overlapping was nearly as naive as his brothers understanding of the events. Because why the fuck would Mike need to use Will's feelings to inspire him to profess his love to El in the first place? Is this what Mike has been struggling with? Really? Why before every moment Mike takes action in this scene, is Will's hand literally pushing him into it? Why is Mike being so dramatic about saying I love you, stuttering and rambling about her being a superhero, not saying nearly as meaningful of things as what Will said in the van?

And then it hits him.

Mike is reminding him a little too much of another Wheeler right now...

Nancy Wheeler, who was afraid of what would happen if she accepted herself for who she really was, leading her to retreat back to the safety of Steve. Because Nancy liked Steve, but she didn't love Steve.

And now here is Mike Wheeler, who has went from being incredibly distant with Will after reuniting with El, something that is very unlike the Mike he knew in previous seasons, to something more himself again after they make up, with him looking at Will with adoration after hearing his words in the van, only to turn away and look heartbroken. Mike who is now struggling to simply tell El he loves her with Will right behind him literally yelling at him to do it.

And now it's like all those little moments are starting to add up to Jonathan.

Suddenly all those signs he picked up on from Will when he was younger are now blending in with moments Will shared with Mike. It was Mike who jumped in after him and his mom's speech to Will in the shed in s2, with tears in his eyes recalling the day that they met (without being asked, let alone pushed to). And it's Mike who is now looking like he's at war with himself as he attempts to give encouragement to El, just like he did with Will in s2, but this time he needs someone to push him to do it, and that person just so happens to be Will. After just finding out about Will's feelings and also while assuming El wants him to love her that way still, Mike is stuck.

I don't think it's takes a genius to consider Jonathan is capable of realizing how fucked they all are in this situation.

As much as Mike isn't ready for a sleuth of reasons, Will isn't ready either.

This provides a huge contrast between the bylers ², because while Jonathan and Nancy went through a similar experience to Will and Mike, them being ready to accept it and act on it didn't involve nearly as many factors and risks. Will and Mike also have the added barrier that is homophobia.

Will's internalized homophobia lies in part with assuming Mike could never feel the same based on some of the words he said in their last two fights, with parts being painfully reminiscent of the things his dad and bullies used to say about him. These are also words that contradict Mike's own words and actions from the previous seasons, things that did once give Will hope. The shame and guilt that comes with falling for your best friend, who you now know will never feel the same after being foolish enough to believe it not too long ago, and who might not even want to be your friend anymore upon finding out the truth, is understandable. He can't have hope like Jonathan can. It's just not the same.

Mike's internalized homophobia lies with assuming El wants him to love her, along with their relationship being expected and socially acceptable from everyone around him. Though unfortunately for her he feels abundantly more in love in the moments he shares with Will. Despite trying to make it work with El as hard as he could, because she's amazing and all any guy could hope for in a girlfriend, he can't ignore the fact that the feelings he has for these two people are different. The shame and guilt that comes with you, a boy, falling for your best friend, who is also a boy, and who is starting to show that he feels the same, all while you can't muster up the courage to break up with your girlfriend, nor can you muster up the courage to tell her that you love her, not when she's begging you, dying or even just simply at the end of a letter, is pretty understandable too. He can't have hope like Nancy can. It's just not the same.

Spoiler: They were not ready.

PS: I'm still not over the fact that they low-key confirmed these events elsewhere in the story...

[your-nanas-house]

Behind the walls of Knebworth House

◇ Pairing: Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) X rich fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: Joe, "obsession", kisses, make out session, dry humping, jealousy

◇ Summary: Lady Y/n finds herself with Joe at Knebworth House.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

As soon as Joe set foot in Knebworth House, he found himself engrossed as if in another era because of its decidedly Victorian appearance and smelling of wealth.

The music resonated in the nearby room to which Lady Phoebe had led him and in which all the other guests were already enjoying the party, accepting the alcohol and finding themselves going along with the game that the gorgeous rich woman had proposed to play. Looking for Kate Joe left the room, finding himself alone with someone else he had met that very day, Lady Y/n, Lady Phoebe's sister. She was quite different from her sister, more reserved, somewhat mysterious and introverted but definitely attractive.

There was simply a fascinating aura surrounding her that attracted Joe in a way no one had ever done, her y/e/c eyes spoke more than a thousand words and her mouth communicated even more to him.

That evening she was wearing a ravishing, delicate pink dress that showed off her curves perfectly and managed to give a peek of what was hidden under it, not too much just enough to tease and make you want more, unfortunately it was covered by a coloured fleece that the young girl was wearing to cover herself up as she was leaning against the wall looking out the window with a blank stare.

Joe approached silently, stopping beside her before hinting a polite smile in her direction and opening his mouth shortly after "I'm assuming you're not the killer if you're out here too" she shifted her gaze, smiling softly as she snorted in amusement as she lowered her gaze "I can assume the same about you".

These were the only words exchanged before silence fell again, their eyes met again and they remained so fixed, Y/n's expression was indescribable, you couldn't tell what she was thinking despite Joe trying to read her the best he could just as if she was a book but the English Lady was a closed book at that moment as she looked at him as if she was studying him or just watching in silence.

The silence remained for a few minutes then Y/n slowly moved, removing her hands from her pockets, hinting an almost frivolous smile as she walked away looking back as if she wanted him to follow her which he did.

Joe followed the new closed book he had found and met that night, to a room, entering only to look around confused because he was not seeing her anywhere; confusion soon turned to surprise as he felt two hands grab his shoulders and push him onto a soft surface which he discovered was a bed. Y/n was standing in front of him looking down at his body as she slowly sat on his lap moving her arms over his shoulders to hug his neck.

Joe's hands ended up on her hips as she threw off the fleece she had been wearing earlier to cover herself, their bodies were pressed together as she left kisses on his neck, down his jaw and then to his ear, taking his earlobe between her teeth before whispering "there's something dark about you, I can feel it, Mr Moore" she pushed his chest causing him to lie back down quickly. Their gazes were still meeting as his hips began to move slowly against hers, Joe felt his trousers tighten and he began to breathe more labouredly "and I have a big fat weakness for these things".

Her voice rang like honey in Joe's ears as he failed to respond to deny the fact that there was something dark inside him, her hips moved faster seeking more friction, Lady Y/n's now uncovered clit continued to rub perfectly against the bulge hidden by his pants.

Their breaths became more heavy, becoming almost one, Y/n caught Joe's lower lip with his teeth and tugged seductively, making Joe lose himself first in her y/e/c eyes and then in the passion that drove them both to spend the whole night together.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher

[eddiesguitarskills]

It Can't All Be Bullshit

Read part 2 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t seem to like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this and the next chapter have been in my drafts for far too long so I thought I'd post them (not the best piece of writing but I like the story) I have tried to prove read it but I have dyslexia so sorry for any mistakes

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, drug and alcohol use, swearing

Word count: about 2000 words

Halloween night 1985

Of all the people you had to have a crush on, why did it have to be your annoying, oblivious dork of a best friend? You knew you needed to get over it, and even if there ever was a chance of being with him, you feared you’d lose him. You weren’t what Eddie wanted in a girl, and you knew that. You were surprised he kept you around now with how much you nagged at him. It’s not like it was all the time, but someone had to look out for that boy, especially if he wasn’t going to do it for himself.

Eddie interrupted your plans for a Halloween movie night, which you had planned out for a month, costumes included. If anyone were to look at you together, they would assume you were a couple; most people did. You were dressed as Jack and Wendy Torrance from the shinning. He even let you put makeup on him to give him the frostbite effect. So when he suddenly announced he had to go to Tina’s party to deal, you were annoyed. You tried not to nag, even though you hated the sound of your voice at this point. Plus, he promised it would only be an hour tops, and then you could get takeout with some of his earnings so that you couldn’t complain, especially when he looked at you with those eyes. You could never say no.

You weren’t the biggest fan of drugs or him dealing them; you knew he was better than that life. But you understood how hard things were on him and his uncle, so as long as it wasn’t forever, it wasn’t really bad drugs, you let it be. You never liked to be around when he dealt, though. Something about watching it made you feel weird. You could never explain why. Eddie was kind, though, and he never did anything in front of you. He didn’t even smoke weed, especially after that one time when he got super paranoid and scared you. You weren’t part of that life. You didn’t do drugs, you didn’t drink, and you didn’t party. It’s not that you were boring. It was just never you. Hey, maybe you were boring, but at least you didn't need drugs to enjoy yourself. You liked to be in control.

You are currently leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, sticking out like a sore thumb with a Coke in your hand. You look at the clock, he’s 30 minutes late. You were trying to turn a new leaf, so you were trying to be understanding, even if his time-wasting was cutting into your Halloween plans. You couldn’t take your eyes off the clock, not like there were other things to watch at this party: teenagers making out, getting too drunk or being sick. The clock seemed more appealing. When it hit the 2-hour mark, you started worrying, so you looked for him. What you didn’t expect to find was him in the garden with a blunt in his hand and his other hand on a blonde’s thigh.

The voice in your head telling you not to nag was now becoming quieter with how annoyed you were. He ditched you, and he was smoking, which showed he had no intention of continuing your plans. He just wanted to get high and laid. “Eddie!” you said loud and stern enough for him to hear you, but too high he was in his bubble with his girl for the night. “Edward Munson!” you said louder; he only ever hears that name when in trouble, so subconsciously, he straightened his back and tried to hide the blunt, failing miserably. He turned around to face you, he waved “Hi darling”. You glared at him. “Are you high, darling?” a mocking tone coming from your voice, using his usual pet name for you against him.

He pitched his fingers together “a little”. Eddie always thought you looked cute when you were mad; he usually tried to get you a little angry so he could see that face. Usually, though, he could hide his smile and keep a straight face since he was sober. But now, when he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t; even more irritating for you, he couldn't stop giggling, making the girl to his right giggle, too. “If you wanted to go party instead, you should have told me; you didn’t need to lie”. If Eddie were sober, he would see how hurt you were, but in his mind, this was a joke, “you don’t have to stay. You can go home and watch the films. Tell me what happens”. You freeze; this is why you hated High Eddie; he never realised how hurtful he came across. How selfish he became. And when he finally sobers up enough to realise you must forgive him because he ‘wasn’t in his right mind’. It’s a frustrating cycle, which is why he stopped smoking in front of you. Except for now, apparently. That’s probably why he ditched you so that you wouldn’t find out.

Hurtful words were on your tongue, but you were in your right mind, so you could never say them. You knew you wouldn’t mean them. You were just hurt, so you stormed off straight out the front door, but when you made it to the front porch, it was like you were stuck in glue. You couldn’t leave whether he was being a dick or not. He was still your best friend, and you need to ensure he was safe. He shouldn’t drive high, and knowing him, he would try. So you waited. You couldn’t go back into the hell hole that was Tina’s Halloween party, so you waited on a porch swing. The air was bitter tonight, so you were glad your costume provided a jumper, not that it looked like a costume anymore without a partner to go with it.

Your eyes were drifting shut with how tired and bored you were, that was until you heard a huge slam come from beside you, making you flinch. You weren’t the only one having a terrible time at this party; Steve was having an even worse one. “You got cigarettes?”. He didn’t look at you, so you didn’t realise he was talking to you. That was until you felt his glare burning into you. You knew that look wasn’t meant for you, but it still made you feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was due to the shots you could tell he had taken from the blue tint to his lips, or perhaps he had gotten into a fight. But this look wasn’t meant for you, but it didn't make it any less scary when you were in his firing line. “Huh?”. With the way he spoke to you next, you could have sworn you had done something to hurt his feelings. “Are you deaf I said do you have any smokes?” he spoke slowly like you were a dumb child. He tutted at you and turned away from you “bullshit”. He kept repeating like a madman.

Jesus, was he that addicted to nicotine, you thought. Even if he did make you feel a little uncomfortable, especially since you knew he was a jock, and even though they didn’t necessarily pick on you because, in their words, “you were a girl,” they bullied your friends so you knew how bad they could be. But even for a jock, this was dramatic “fucking hell, I’m sorry, I don’t have any” you said a little sarcastically. He stopped his repetition and looked over his shoulder at you. “What?” He said with anger still laced in his voice, like you did anything to deserve his rage. You didn’t know why you were wasting your breath on him, but Eddie had pissed you off, and you needed to get the annoyance out somehow. “Are you deaf? I said I’m sorry, I don’t have any”.

He thought he knew girls well, but after tonight, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to figure out what was wrong with you either. He couldn’t be bothered by the grief. “Fuck off”. You couldn’t tell if his words were in reaction to what you said or if he meant it. That was until he repeated it, and you saw the look on his face, and the tears in his eyes that he didn’t realise were there. You didn’t know what was happening with him, but it was not your place to sort it. You were making it worse.

So you went back into the party, to look for two people, firstly Tommy Hagan everyone knew he was Harrington’s best friend, so even if you didn’t like Tommy you couldn’t leave someone when they were like that. It would only make you as bad as them. You found him around the beer pong table. You lightly tapped his shoulder as you couldn’t deal with another boy's wrath tonight. He turned around, looking you up and down, smirking. “What are you supposed to be a virgin?” You rolled your eyes. You knew you could think of a comeback and put him in his place, but now wasn’t the time; you needed to get him outside, and you didn’t want to announce that his friend, the king of Hawkin High, was crying on the lawn in front of everyone. You weren't cruel. “Can you just come outside with me?” The room erupted into “oh”, as if you were suggesting something sexual. “Wait, was I right about the virgin thing? Is the freak not giving you any? Do you want a real man instead?” He said, getting closer to you. He smelt of beer and body odour, but you let him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “Your boy is outside, and something’s happened. I’d go and sort it if I was you”. He looked at you confused and nodded. He walked out, but not before smacking you on the ass. “I’ll see you later, darling?”. God, he was the most enormous prick. You couldn’t hold your tongue anymore. “Is that with your girlfriend or alone?”.

Eddie came sauntering alone into the room after hearing your voice, “I hope you’re not starting fights”, he said, putting his arm around your shoulder out of comfort. You ignored his question, not wanting to get into it now. “You ready to go?” You looked at him and weakly smiled. Eddie couldn’t tell, though he was still high as a kite, just in the mellow stage, so all he could see was you smiling. You took the keys out of his pocket and led him to the van. On your way out, you walked past Tommy and Steve on the porch swing. Steve’s leg bounced. “She said we were bullshit”, he kept repeating; you were glad Eddie wasn’t sober enough to hear it. Otherwise, he would definitely use it against him. Everything about his mood towards you started to make sense. He and Nancy had clearly broken up. So you gave him a smile and a nod of acknowledgement as you left, which he only glared at. You didn't mind, though you were just glad he wasn’t alone, even if that meant being with Tommy.

You drove Eddie home, struggling to get his dead weight onto the bed and to get his shoes off. You were about to leave for your car outside when Eddie's hand grabbed for yours. “Stay”. This used to be one of the only things you liked about him being high, the cuddles and needing attention. However, right now, this was probably the worst thing for your heart when you were trying to get over him, but when you looked at his face, how could you say no if that made him happy, even if it would end up hurting you.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in the future

Masterlist here if you are interested

[starryalpacasstuff]

Indian BL? FROM 2017????

There's an Indian BL from 2017 that I just watched. And I have incoherent thoughts

Before I continue, massive thanks to my bestie @anixknowsnothin for telling me about this show and proofreading the post for me. You don't even watch bl so I have no idea how you found this, but I'm incredibly grateful nonetheless

Here's the link to where I watched the show from, there's a glitch in the first episode subs where the subs seem to be from another show entirely, but it's only for the first ep and about 50% of the dialogue is in English anyways, so it shouldn't be hard to follow.(My ask box is also always open if there's a specific dialogue/scene in Hindi that you want the translation of)

Edit: The link seems to be region locked, so to watch it you can use a vpn and set your region to India, otherwise the episodes are available on youtube, albeit without subs

Note:- this post is going to have a few mild spoilers throughout, but I'll flag major spoilers in red

It's no secret that India is fairly behind when it comes to queer love shows if we compare it to other Asian countries. While it has a handful of great queer shows and movies, it's still quite a small quantity. Additionally, before this, I'd never watched an Indian show that felt like I was watching a bl (if you have recs, please send them my way!!). I'm not going to get into the technicalities of what feels like a bl and doesn't, because honestly, I'm not completely sure myself. For now, I'm just going based off of vibes and feelings, and this show felt like a bl through and through.

Titled 'Romil and Jugal' after its main characters, the story is a modern, desi, bl remake of the classic story...

Romeo and Juliet

Well, Bad Buddy was the first Thai bl I ever watched, so Romil and Jugal being the first Indian BL I watched just feels right, no?

I didn't actually know that the story was based off of Romeo and Juliet till the second episode, because I didn't bother looking for a synopsis, and jumped right in. However, it's links to Romeo and Juliet quickly became apparent, around the same time I started to see similarities between this show and Bad Buddy. I also did not know that this show came out in 2017 before I googled it, having already watched the entire thing, which was a pretty huge shock, because this BL is progressive by 2024 India standards.

Alright, enough of my rambling. Here's a synopsis of the show in case you haven't heard of it. (I couldn't find an official one, so I did my best to write a spoiler free synopsis)

Ramya happens to start talking to a slightly older woman at an airport, who believes that there is no romance in the younger generation. To prove her wrong, Ramya decides to tell the older woman her brother's love story. The story from the past is shown to us as Ramya narrates it to the woman in the present. Jugal is a closeted 19-year-old who lives with his parents. One day, a family moves into the house next door, and Jugal immediately falls for the son, Romil. The two of them attend the same college, and eventually become friends. The two of them eventually get together, but have to face the challenges of a homophobic society and having parents that hate each other.

I was a little skeptical of the show going in, but the show surpassed all of my expectations in the best way possible. It's no masterpiece, and it has its flaws, but it was far better than what I expected. It had both comical elements and darker themes, and it did not shy away from exploring the darker themes at all. Oh, and it has a few musical numbers. What did you expect? This is India after all.

The show is 10 episodes long, with 20 minutes per episode, and so it does unfortunately fall into some of the pitfalls that shorter shows tend to fall into, namely underdeveloped relationships and rushed endings. I did end up feeling a little bit like it didn't make sense for the pair to sacrifice and suffer as much as they did because they hadn't known each other for very long, and I felt like they should have been given more time to fall in love with each other. But it also could be argued that the show stays true to the play, and Romil and Jugal are dumb teenagers who make mistakes and stick with each other through them. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it.

One thing that I loved the show for was that it showed us that the relationship is not all sunshine and rainbows. They argue, they break up, they get back together, and they do argue even after that. But every time, they eventually work through the issue and reconcile. The show even depicts Romil dealing with internalized homophobia and struggling to reconcile with the fact that he will never be who his family wants him to be. Although I do wish they'd have had more time to explore this, I'd say it was decently depicted and handled. The show really delves into how children are forced to uphold their family's wishes and are constantly put under pressure to make them proud. Although it clearly affects both of them, it's more obvious with Romil, who is expected by his family to date and marry the daughter of his father's boss, whom they think he is dating. There's a metaphor along this theme too, where Romil pretends to like the mango shake that his mom has been making for him since he was a kid, even though he hates it, and when he tries to tell her, he has to act like it was a joke to spare her feelings. The show also goes into the communal mindset of basing your actions off "what will people think?", and you can see how a lot of the characters' actions throughout the show are haunted by this question. Some of Romil and Jugal's earlier disagreements are due to this very mindset.

The show also very candidly depicts the extreme homophobia of society in India. Romil and Jugal had to constantly hide who they were, always having to keep up a mask and I felt that reach somewhere deep inside me. When the pair come out, the show really shows how ugly homophobia can be in India. Their parents immediately disown them. They're mocked in college and wrongfully suspended for a fight that was provoked by other students. Very, very few people stand with them, and the pair very quickly realize that now that they are out, they simply cannot live in the city anymore. So with the help of Jugal's best friend and her mother, they flee to Mumbai, where they get jobs and live as paying guests with a friend of the aforementioned mother. But, even in Mumbai, the masks stay up. They have to act like cousins, for fear of being persecuted. The series depicted the worst-case scenario that so many of us live in fear of, so watching it was something of a cathartic experience for me.

Another thing that the show did quite well is showing how different people and their mindsets can be. Jugal's best friend, Ahalya, and her mom are very supportive, and they help the pair out quite a bit. Ahalya's mother provided a safe house for the pair and helped them find a fresh start. Meanwhile, Romil and Jugal's parents are incredibly homophobic. There was a scene that really stuck with me, (mild spoiler ahead, skip to the last sentence of the paragraph) where Ahalya's mother came across Jugal's mother, who prided herself on being educated and well-read, searching up how to cure homosexuality. Ahalya's mother then tells her off for calling herself educated yet believing that homosexuality is an illness. It is so important to me that the show depicted both the violent homophobia that permeates Indian society and the surprising, warm acceptance that one can find.

One final thing that I loved about this show so, so much is just how authentically Indian it feels. Asian cultures share a lot in common, but they also have their differences, so seeing a show where I can imagine encountering the characters in real life is really amazing. Rather than something big, it was little things sprinkled throughout the story that warmed my heart. The story felt like something I could hear the local aunties gossiping about. The way it depicts queerness in India hits incredibly close to home.

One thing I've learned watching Asian bls is that the ending of a show can make it or break it, but with this one, I'm stuck. The best way I can describe the ending is absolutely insane and incredibly Bollywood.

I believe this show was supposed to get a second season because the last two minutes of the show leave us with a massive cliffhanger. Now, it's been 7 years, so a second season is unlikely, so I'm simply pretending that the last two minutes of the show never happened. But the ending has so much more to it than just this (Major spoilers for the ending up ahead. I mean it when I say major, this is like going into Bad Buddy knowing that they're going to trick their parents in the end).

About halfway through the show, I remembered what play it was based upon and realized that there was a very real possibility that Romil and Jugal would die. The first half of the last episode leads up to this, telling us that they died when reconciling after an argument in the middle of the road when they were hit by a truck. We get a super emotional scene (yes, I cried) where the two families somewhat reconcile in their grief as they go to the police station to identify the bodies. Except... they're not dead, which is revealed when Romil's father hugs Romil's (not) dead body. They reveal that they planned this to show their family that they still loved their sons. I did say it was like PatPran tricking their parents in the end, didn't I? So the families reunite, Romil and Jugal get jobs in New Zealand and get married, and return to India for a wedding celebration (yes, I cried. again). The ending does feel slightly rushed, but if I'm being honest, it wasn't as terrible as it could have been. Believing that your child is dead for a bit is a somewhat justifiable reason for a sudden change of heart. There's a part where Romil and Jugal tell their parents that if they choose acceptance, they can reconcile, but if they choose to remain prejudiced, Romil and Jugal can simply get back on the stretchers, because they'll be as good as dead to their families anyways and it is *chef's kiss*.

All in all, the show was surprisingly heartfelt and poignant. It had me laughing, kicking my feet and even crying. There's a lot more about this show that I could talk about, but I'm going to stop here for now, and I'll try to write more on it later. This show really does deserve more recognition than it has, and I'm almost mad at myself for not knowing about it before. Am I being really biased when talking about this show? Absolutely. But I do think that this show is a worthwhile watch, and I'd really like to see what other people on here think of the show, especially because I'm aware that I am biased towards this show.

I'm tagging a few people who I know might be interested/have some thoughts about the show because this is a show that I really want to hear other people's opinions on and have conversations about, so I hope you guys don't mind!

@waitmyturtles @lurkingshan @bengiyo @neuroticbookworm

[ofmdrecaps]

07/12/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Samba Schutte; Vico Ortiz; Rachel House; Nathan Foad; Kristian Nairn; Minnie Driver; Gypsy Taylor; Nathan Foad; You Bear Fine Thing Well; Articles; Non Binary Awareness Week; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== Rhys Darby ==

A LIVE Cryptid Factor show has been announced at ther Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2023! August 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th! Unfortunately it looks like they sold out within the first few hours. Hopefully we'll see some more lives soon! Grats boys on the quick sellout!

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram

Rhys also posted multiple tiktok videos today regarding a new character I assume? "Brief Moments of Genius: The Doug Thandwich Pamphlet"

Source: Rhys Darby's Tiktok

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba made it safely to Florida Supercon! Annnnd apparently the hotel didn't think about his height when getting him set up in the deluxe rainfall shower!

Source: Samba Schutte's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico also made it to Florida Supercon safely (with Jack!)! Are you going to be seeing them this weekend?

Source: Vico's Instagram Stories

ALSO -- more OFMD S2 BTS (as well as exclusive other BTS from their other shows, etc) from Vico on their Patreon! Check out the new video here!

Source: Vico Ortiz' Patreon

== Rachel House ==

Rachel was out at a showing of &Juliet getting to meet one of her heroes, Keala Settle!

Source: Rachel House's Instagram

== Kristian Nairn ==

As mentioned before - Signed copies of Kristian's book are on pre-sale now! Apparently some of the signing is happening now because Kristian posted a video of some signatures happening! They've also hit the Barnes & Nobles Best Sellers list!

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

REMINDER: Adopt Our Crew was kind enough to put together his list of where you can buy Kristian's Book! Reminder-- bookshop is great if you want to support your local bookstores!

Barnes & Noble

Amazon US

Amazon UK 

Bookshop.com

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Nathan Foad ==

Nathan once again out with friends <3. I'm so happy we're getting to see him have so much fun this summer!

Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram

== Minnie Driver ==

Our fabulous Anne Bonny, Minnie Driver is playing Elizabeth I in Serpent Queen Season 2! Which just so happens to premier today on Starz!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Min. (@driverminnie)

Source: Minnie Driver's Instagram

== Gypsy Taylor ==

Our darling costume designer for s2 - Gypsy Taylor has received a special gift from one of our fan crews-- Our Flag Means Daddy! She received a special jacket with the name Sea Gypsy embroidered on it! Congrats Gypsy and thank you Our Flag Means Daddy crew for continuing to bring joy and recognition to our dear OFMD Cast & Crew!

Source: Gypsy Taylor's Instagram

== You Bear Fine Things Well ==

Today was the final day for #YouBearFineThingsWell! @adoptourcrew asked fans to share their favorite bear puns Rhys came up with for the Hungry Games! I have to say mine was "We asked Cassanova if he had any types... he said brunettes".

Source: @adoptourcrew's Twitter

== Articles ==

A few more mentions of OFMD this week!

Source: Collider Article

And thank you to @adoptourcrew for bringing this screenrant article to our attention!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Non Binary Awareness Week ==

Another article from Pink News -- this time recommending 11 Must Watch Films/TV Shows Starring Non-Binary Actors! I already know several I'll be seeing once they're available. Check them out!

Source: Pink News Article

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! Happy start to the weekend! I truly hope you've had fun this week in some capacity. There's been something for everyone and hopefully we continue to see some hype coming up in the up coming weeks.

Today I wanted to remind you of something that I know you've heard before, but like anything in this life, repetition helps to solidify things so I'm gonna say some of it again. You don't need to prove to anyone your worth. You don't need to beg for anyone to love you and you certainly don't need to be someone you're not for someone else's sake. We all have demands from outside forces every day-- work, school, etc, and a lot of those demands are things we have to cope with in order to function in and be a part of society. Those demands aren't always in our best interest, but for the most part they're at least somewhat reasonable. However, there are going to be times that others have demands on you that are completely unreasonable. Maybe someone expects you to fall into a pretty little category. Maybe someone expects you to understand them when they aren't being clear. Maybe someone expects you to bend over backwards and change for their benefit, but not provide you with the same courtesy.

Whatever unreasonable demands you're dealing with, I just want to send you a reminder that you are allowed to say no. You are allowed to set up boundaries to help minimise that kind of behavior. You are allowed to just be you, and to continue to shine being you. Nothing is black and white, so it may not be easy, and may not be viable, or safe for some people-- I absolutely get that, and you should always keep your safety and security top of mind. But if you have the wiggle room, and you can set up those boundaries, remember there's nothing wrong with wanting to continue to be you, the way you are and defending that you.

You are wonderful lovelies, and we all have things in life we can improve on, but you being your beautiful, unique, authentic self is a right, and you have every right to protect the parts of you you hold dear. You don't have to prove to anyone that you are worthy of love just being yourself-- because you already ARE worthy of love, and light, and good things.

You don't have to fit into a neat little box to be loved, or valid. You are already both of those things, and sometimes it's hard to see it in ourselves-- so this reminder is from me to you, from the crew, to you, that you are wonderful just the way you are. Rest well and be kind to yourselves lovelies, you deserve it.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is shades on a couple of cool dudes! Gifs courtesy of two of the most fabulous and talented gif makers on the internet - @ofmd-ann and @bizarrelittlemew!

[lilac-5ky]

Roommates from Hell, pt.2 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 2: 2912

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed the first part of the story! I'll do my best to update every 1-2 weeks and to keep things interesting. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome, and if anyone wants to be notified for updates, drop your name in the comments and I'll gladly tag your @.

Warning: Flashback, mentions of violence, blood, and sex toys (odd combo, I know)

2…9…1…2

Deft fingers punched in the numbers on the door’s keypad, a practiced crescendo of beeps and bops granting you access to your flat. Hesitant fingers that dropped to the handle, but refused to push forward, instead anchoring you there. Not yet, you mumbled, your eyes squeezing shut as soon as your forehead hit the frame.

Today has been a long day. So long that you barely had a moment to process the line of rapid escalations as it brought you to this very doorstep, with the ghost of your former scarf dangling from your neck. Some people would rather be glued to the little screens of their little phones than discipline their eight-year-old brats who, for some reason, thought playing tug of war with others’ scarves while they busted their gut to make a leaving to be of utmost entertainment.

Some people ought to keep their genes to themselves, you exasperated, untying the fabric from your neck and then balled it inside your bag, zipping the bunny across the seam.

The bunny…

Toji…

It was becoming a habit of yours to follow up his name with a sigh. Sometimes a sigh that meant “What am I going to do with you?” and others coming from a place of deep longing and frustration, meaning “What am I going to do without you?”

He said he’d be home after “snipping some loose ends,” which in his dictionary either referred to him breaking some poor woman’s heart, or quite literally stabbing some equally unfortunate man’s heart out of his body at his job’s demand. Depending on the plausibility of each scenario, you were given a minimum of four and a maximum of six hours to try and make sense of his actions and devise a plan to make this cohabitation work.

You licked your lips for the millionth time that day, gnawing at the chapped flesh with the edge of your teeth. No lip balm could aspire to salvage their sorry-ass state, aggravated by the low temperatures and honed by your continuous munching on them. You’d become so conscious of their existence, that it seemed as if you were trying hard to erase it before he had the chance to realize his goal of kissing them— even when that was a common goal shared by the both of you.

The taste of metal pooled in the hollow of your mouth, your teeth sinking a tad too deep. There wasn’t much reason to keep contemplating that which never happened and that which, perhaps, would never come. You wiped your shoes on the crooked doormat (was it always crooked?) and walked inside, your legs nearly giving out at the sight of two knees dangling from your beloved couch’s armrest.

“Woah, keep it down, won’t ya?”

None other than the voice of Toji reprimanded you as you screamed at the top of your lungs. His body was spilled across your couch, the expanse of muscles barely fitting upon the three azure-colored pillows. A soda —your soda— nested in his palm, while a bag of empty potato chips —your chips— lay on the kotatsu.

“What the hell are you doing here?!?” A trembling hand reached out to where your heart supposedly was, checking whether it was still in its place.

“Watching some travel show about Chikura,” he answered, unfazed and undisturbed. “You like abalone, right? Why don’t we-”

“I’m asking, how the fuck did you get in here?”

“Oh, that,” Toji smirked, lowering the TV’s volume just when the travel host was about to devour a platter full of steaming hot seafood—mouthwatering enough to divert your attention for a second. “Sayaka let me in.”

“Sa-yaka…?”

“Flat hair, narrow eyes— kinda like Izumi Pinko. Walks around with a cane twice her size. Rings a bell?”

“Talking about Ogawa-san?” you asked, a caricature of your crabby landlady taking shape before your very eyes. “She never lets in anyone without a key, though. Last time I forgot mine, she acted as if she didn’t know me and went right past. Had to phone a locksmith,” you sighed, murmuring under your breath about the extravagant sum of money you were forced to pay. “How did you do it? Convince her to open up?”

“How else ya think?” His chin rotated leisurely atop his knuckles.

“You can’t be serious! Y-you fucked her?” Your eyes went wide like saucers, the notion sounding both feasible and surreal.

His smirk sharpened into a sly grin as he stood up, a slight slouch on his shoulders carrying him to your eye level. You couldn’t exactly look away from this proximity, so you began quietly analyzing him. The tight-fitting black tee and baggy training pants that greatly accentuated his hips and shoulders; his work outfit. The overgrown hair that curtained the dark circles of his eyes; evidence of a sleepless night. The absence of scent, not even of dirt, sweat, or struggle. He must’ve actually been working on a bounty, you deduced, your final thought of rationale as he invaded the last bit of personal space you’d left.

“You really think the worst of me, huh?” His tongue circled his lips, prompting yours to do the same as you sheepishly shook your head, the sultry sound of his voice as hypnotizing as his hooded green eyes were.

“You think I go ‘round spreading the legs of everything that moves?” Toji asked again, his tone growing more condescending by the second. “ ‘fraid that ain’t the case, princess. I’m not into goodwill. Don’t do things without merit, either. She asked who I was, got all perky when I said I’m moving in, and then handed me these,” he paused, throwing a bundle of creased envelopes at your feet.

You kneeled awkwardly, seeking the sender’s origin in each logo seal. Water company. Electricity company. Phone company. Insurance company. Even the bills from that one debit card Hinata issued in your name in case of an emergency.

“Could say I paid my way in,” he scoffed, his eyes searching for an inkling of appreciation that he failed to find in your stubborn squint.

“I could’ve handled these myself.”

“Thought you’d say this, that’s why I saved this one,” he tossed another, smaller yellow-tinted paper onto the pile. “Eviction notice. My, you have it quite hard, don’tcha?”

“I don’t need classes on financial handling from someone whose living conditions are entirely dependent on ‘the bimbo of the week’,” you snapped, rising back to your feet with the bills in hand.

Maybe things were a bit tighter these past few months than you’d accounted for, but you weren’t like him. Sooner or later, you paid all expenses through sheer work and effort— a concept foreign to him, who’d rather be thrown into the streets than save a dime.

You weren’t like Toji. Not one bit. You knew that if he hadn’t run into your landlady, you would have definitely paid all your debts off in a month’s time or two, even if that meant devolving your breakfast’s nutritional value to that of instant ramen. You could take care of yourself, just like you’d done for 14 years now. He had no right to interfere because, come next month, you’d—

But the overdue deadlines at the top of each paper spoke louder than your inner thoughts and bravado did. The next month would never come for you. Not in this house, at least.

Defeated, you unfolded the paper, straightening the creases your fingernails had helped create. You hated feeling this way— indebted. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into just another transactional relationship with an expiration date dependent on the other’s wage.

“Thank you, and,” you mumbled, your stare hiking up his body and stopping at his chest —right about where the difference in your height manifested— “….sorry, I guess. Just thought that with the way you look, and all that-”

“The way I look…?” A winsome smile tugged at his dimples, his left hand weaving through his hair as if he were oblivious to how effortlessly attractive he appeared in his work clothes, every single crevice of his body visible under the little piece of fabric.

“N-never mind.” You tore your eyes away, cheeks flushing bright red at thoughts a friend shouldn’t be having. “How was work?”

“Pretty dead,” he shrugged, using the same hand to rub some of the tension around the crook of his neck. “Don’t see a real challenge rising until that Gojo kid hatches from his egg. Rest die like flies.”

As a regular person with about an average percentage of cursed energy running through your system, you had little understanding of the mystical world of Jujutsu and its sorcerers, all the information you had acquired being bits and pieces that Toji had shared with you over the years. He never went into too much detail about his job but never hid anything either. He killed sorcerers with the same ease he spread butter on his bread.

You really didn’t understand much, and perhaps the keywords “kills for a living” ought to ring an alarm or two, but an outsider like you who didn’t abide by their rules had no right judging those who broke them. Besides, with the way his family had disposed of him as if he were a chewed piece of gum stuck on the back of their sole, things weren’t as black and white as one would assume.

“Gojo, you say,” the name sounding awfully familiar on your tongue. “Is that one of the three big clans?”

Toji nodded, his arms folding over his chest. “Special grade when he ain’t grown any pubes yet,” he scoffed, voice twisting in an unnatural way that could have tricked you into thinking he was jealous of the young boy.

“Are you gonna kill him?”

His brows knitted together, clearly not expecting such bluntness. “Question is, can I? Answer being, for the right price,” the frown he wore subdued into a crooked smile. “maybe. Kid should fetch one good wad of cash. I’m sure many want the six eyes out of the picture.”

Six eyes?

“Just make sure you save some of it,” you mindlessly said, eyes dancing around the room for the first time since you’d entered the house.

There were no real signs of his presence. The duffel bag seemed to be nowhere in sight either. Only his shoes were left by the door right next to yours, a sign you’d completely missed upon entering.

“What happened to your things, by the way? Don’t see ‘em.”

“Took the liberty of sorting them out,” Toji said. “You had a lot more empty space than you made it sound earlier.”

Somehow that statement terrified you— not because you were some overbearing control freak who didn’t want others interfering with their stuff, but because you feared the misplaced items he might have found casually lying around, providing him with all the excuse he needed to tease you to an excruciatingly slow and shameful death.

You went on a parade through the rooms, Toji following in your steps like a well-trained puppy, letting you freely inspect the new “changes”.

In the living room, you spotted a pair of dumbbells lying by the window, heavy enough that when you tried to pick one of them up, it resulted in one loud, unintentional shriek as your feet were nearly crushed, much to Toji’s vile amusement. Then in the bathroom, you found a second toothbrush that shared the exact same color yours did, along with a black fuzzy towel and a men’s deodorant that was missing its lid. You’d have to get another cup for his toothbrush, you noted, and moved along, eventually making it to your apartment’s sole bedroom.

“Where are your clothes?” you asked, Toji nodding in your closet’s direction.

You opened the first door, finding a series of dark-colored shirts, sweaters, and cardigans hanging from the previously vacant racks. You didn’t wear much color yourself, but when comparing the disparity between his almost exclusively black side of the space and the creamier pastels that predominated yours, the clash in taste was indisputable.

Absentmindedly, you run your fingers through his clothes, stopping at the dark blue parka you’d gotten him for his 21st birthday. He wasn’t the type to keep gifts from women, but seeing he’d preserved yours in mint condition filled you with a strange sense of pride.

“Not bad,” you exclaimed, satisfied with how aptly his clothes were displayed until a new worry surfaced. “What about your underwear?”

He glanced toward the bottom drawer, his instep gently kicking against it. You weren’t too sure if that was necessary, and under different circumstances, you’d rather avoid such overt embarrassment, but this was your house first and foremost. Your closet, your drawer, and—

“The bottom drawer…?” The realization struck like a ton of bricks, your pupils widening and then trembling as a breath hitched up your throat, remaining there.

The bottom drawer is where you kept it, perhaps the only thing in this entire household that you’d rather he didn’t see, at the cost of your own life, even. A rabbit, whose little ears tapped in excitement every time it saw you. A rabbit vastly different from the ones that hopped around happily in fields or the one that was weaved through the zipper of your handbag. A rabbit that had kept you company in his place many nights and knew the sound of his name better than Toji himself did.

Sinking to your knees, you felt his shadow loom over you like the shadow of imminent death. You let go of that breath and yanked the drawer open, eyes squinting at the sight of neatly stacked black boxers, their size big enough to make you arch a brow, yet not big enough to completely conceal 6 inches of hot pink. You were safe.

“Looking for this?” A light buzz rang in your ear, your head tilting to meet Toji’s namesake.

“G-give it back!” You dived forward, gracelessly collapsing at his feet when he pulled it out of reach.

“Come and get it,” Toji retorted, wiggling it before your very eyes.

Piecing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you pounced at him, fingers locking around the silicone and his hand, while he refused to surrender, his thrilled expression revealing just how much he enjoyed the demand in your tone as you bossed him into handing back the vibrator.

“What will I get in return?”

“Wha— why would you get anything?” You gritted your teeth, stumbling forward as he dragged you to him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he shook his forefinger playfully. “Finders keepers, losers weepers. If ya really want it, better compensate me first. Oh, look, it has multiple speeds, huh….” he said semi-impressed, revving up the rabbit’s switch to its second and third speeds.

“…What do you want?” You practically begged, seeking a way out of this humiliation.

“Now we talking,” Toji smirked, barely restraining himself from ruffling the hair of the ferocious, albeit cute, beast that attacked him. “2912. What do the numbers mean? Tried your birthday first, but seems like you do have a few brain cells in there,” he tapped at your temple with his free hand, frustration pooling in your eyes. “Then your mom’s death anniversary, your sis’ birthday, that brat’s too— even mine, but no good.

“So, what’s 2912 to you? Indulge me, and I’ll let you have it.”

2912, or more accurately, 29/12. It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t remember. After all, it wasn’t an important date, just another winter’s day from many, many years ago. A day that was all but erased under the thick blanket of snow as it engulfed your tender memories.

A heavy sigh parted your lips, and at that moment, you knew you’d already lost.

“You really wanna know?”

It was the 27th of December.

The 27th morning of a month whose sole notable event was the week-long blizzard that’d condemned the entire nation to a period of absolute and unfaltering inertia. Well, as unfaltering as the in-between downpours let it be, snow washing over the streets in a diluted mixture of ice and mud every two days— streets turning into a dangerous minefield, and hospital beds quickly filling up with broken-boned smarty pants who thought wandering out and about in the heart of winter would be as inconsequential as those dull days were.

You were one of those idiots. Not quite, but you were on your way to join their ranks, every step you took across the frozen pavements of Tokyo threatening to leave you with a bad case of a sprained ankle, or worse, a cracked skull. You regretted wearing those worn-out boots today of all days, but then again, your wardrobe choices were limited to whatever clothing you’d grown out of, and the clothes your mother left behind.

This old suede pair was hers, too. A gift from back when your house was still open to crowds and birthday parties— when it wasn’t just an empty carcass of termite-eaten joists and web-infested corners that could barely welcome, let alone host, the final of its residents: yourself.

Returning to the reason why you’d chosen today as the day to stride across Shibuya —a thermos of soothing Butajiru soup gripped tightly between your mitten-clad palms and a backpack full of advertising fliers for your afternoon job attached to your back— and consequentially, the reason why you sported your mother’s beloved shoes: you had a job interview. Your first non-canceled interview in over two months since your personal inertia began when you were suddenly and unjustifiably laid off.

Those were tough times. The entire country was dipped in despair over the biggest economic recession they’d known. Left and right, people had their jobs snatched from within their grasp in the name of meek excuses such as cost reduction, or merging and buyouts, or even staff redundancy, and who could blame those small enterprise owners, really?

In any case, the cost of running your previous employer’s rathole of a convenience store might have been reduced, but your living expenses weren’t, and the supplementary funds the state provided were running dry. No one wanted to hire an inexperienced, uninsured high schooler. It was too much of a gamble, especially when the contenders were overqualified college graduates desperate enough to work menial jobs for the same breadcrumbs a part-timer would.

You were at your wit’s end. Out of luck and starved for something other than vending machine onigiri. Thirsty for a life you’d probably never be able to obtain. But today wasn’t about wallowing in self-pity. No, today was the day you’d take your first step toward normality and dignity. Today, you marched proudly in your mother’s most prized possession, and today you felt her comforting scent linger in the breeze, giving you the much-needed push to achieve what you’d set out to do.

Live. That was the final request that left her lips, and that was exactly what you were planning to do. You’d live. No matter what, against all odds, you would live.

The headlights at the bustling intersection shone a brilliant green as the herd of sharply dressed businessmen and casually dressed students on their day off pushed forward like a troop of toy soldiers, sweeping you past Shibuya River, where the crystallized waters from below its bridge stilled your grimacing reflection.

It’d been so long since the last time you’d genuinely smiled that your facial muscles barely remembered how to. It looked awkward and forced. Foreign. You’d practiced your introduction days ahead, but that damn smile stood in the way. If only there was a “smiles for dummies” playbook, though you doubted it’d help. Those without a reason to smile could only second-guess the happiness of those who were blessed with it.

As if to further test your theory, today’s misfortune came pedaling right in your direction, a hasty biker knocking the thermos off your hands and onto the water with a faint “sorry” echoing in his stead. You ducked over the handrail, spotting the silver shine a couple of meters away from the river’s brink. You sighed in relief, grateful that the impact hadn’t shattered the ice and that you still had about 45 minutes to catch your interview— more than enough time for you to carry out your flask’s impromptu rescue operation.

You walked over to the bridge’s sideline, where, in place of stairs, an overgrown cherry tree cast its shadow. This was far from sensible, but the cliff wasn’t steep enough to dissuade you. You looped your scarf around a leaning branch and began your descent, the non-existent friction between your tattered soles and the slippery cement sending you to meet your maker as you tumbled down the slope and hit the ground. Shit.

Once you were done lamenting your sheer idiocy, your faulty shoes, the tree branch, the weather forecast, and every Shinto deity’s name you could remember off the top of your head, you pushed yourself onto your knees, carefully rotating each ankle around itself. Not broken. Thank those aforementioned gods you cursed, or else you’d never be able to afford the medical bills.

You shook the snow off your clothes and stood up, stretching both arms over your head, only to realize your blunder had become a lonesome spectator’s object of amusement. The man —assuming that the creature behind you was a man and not some wild beast with the way his jacket fluffed over his skull— was bent in half, knees to his chest, and arms coiled around, the sole distinctive trait that of his sparkling green eyes zeroing in on your plainer orbs.

You could have sworn you heard a chuckle, too, but you weren’t about to start a fight with some unhinged bum at the bottom of a bridge— not when you were one missed bill away from sharing his fate.

Deciding to temporarily forsake his presence, you located the now broken branch and attempted to fish your bottle out, moving as close to the ice as you could. Desperate lunges pushed the thermos further in, your hold on the wood relaxing with each failed attempt until you barely had a grip.

“Excuse me!” you turned at your last resort. “Hi, um… could you please help me out here? I dropped this into the water, and it’s really important I get it back, but my arms can’t reach and the ice is so thin and slippery I just might fall.”

An uncomfortable chuckle failed to appease its tough crowd, with the man remaining lost in his thoughts, his eyes blinking slower than traffic lights during rush hours. It seemed like you’d found the worst person to exercise your communication skills with.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Shut up.”

It was your turn to blink in surprise, your jaw dropping at the man’s barking. You were too shocked to be offended and too offended to question if it was you he addressed, but his next sentence left no real room for misunderstanding.

“I said, shut the fuck up and take it elsewhere. You were the one who dropped it. If it was that important to you, then shoulda taken better care of it instead of avalanching your way down here and disturbing my peace.”

Clapping your hands over your agape mouth, you muttered an apology and faced away from him, coming to your senses a minute later when you realized you weren’t in the wrong. Sure, he could be dealing with some lachrymose life-shattering situation you knew nothing about, but that wasn’t an excuse for him to act like a complete jerk to a fellow stranger in need.

You weren’t sure why you held back from flipping him off. Maybe you’d accepted that dealing with douchebags was going to become part of your new reality as a service worker, or maybe it was because you really didn’t want any trouble with a guy who looked this intimidating even while seated. Either way, you whipped out your trusty branch again and neared the brink, this time using it as a cane to help you tread the frozen waters and snatch your thermos.

You didn’t even get a chance at a victorious cheer when you felt the ice shatter beneath your feet, eager to swallow you into the depths of its bottomless abyss. Or that’s what would have happened if the river didn’t cap at 2 meters, and if a hand didn’t yank you by the scruff of your neck, hurling you back to the shore as if you weighed no more than a snowflake.

“The hell you think you are doing? Got a death wish or something?” the brass voice of your savior accused, belonging to a much more pleasant and youthful face than one would have expected.

The boy was more or less your age, about a head taller with broad shoulders and a toned physique his baggy clothes undermined— much stronger than your average high-schooler, judging by the sheer strength he’d flung your body with. Messy raven black hair rained down to his ears, sloppily chopped into shape by their owner himself. Eyes as green as a thousand springs gone by, and as fiery as the blazing fury scorching them. The only discord in his features was that of a scar on the right side of his lips, begrudgingly moving with each profanity he spat.

Your second apology came as a knee-jerk reaction to his outburst, encouraged by the temporal trance his good looks had subjected you to. You wouldn’t say you had a type, and even if you did, you doubted that a no-good, rude bridge inhabitant was it. However, the only way for you to tear your gaze off of him was to physically force yourself away. The guy murmured something under his breath and moved back to his original spot, arms dangling over his spread thighs.

You were unsure of what to do. The time for your interview was closing in, and no one guaranteed he wouldn’t rip the vocal cords off your throat if you tried to verbally thank him. You had a very bad feeling about this guy, and perhaps you should have listened to your gut rather than nullifying the distance with a peace offering.

“Here,” you prodded a spare cup of soup into the empty space between you.

He arched a brow at your gesture, his irritation gradually melting into curiosity and then acceptance as he brought the cup to his lips and took a hesitant sip.

“Hmm,” he hummed, gulping down some more after he’d made sure you weren’t trying to poison him.

You expected something else to follow, but it seemed like his outburst exhausted his vocabulary. You could always ask what he thought of it, but the thought alone was as scary as going for another suicide dive. So you said nothing, and he did the same. Just two strangers who barely tolerated each other sharing a moment of silence in the snowy landscape.

A short while later, the boy shoved the cup toward you and dug his hand in his jacket’s front pocket, dropping about six crumpled ten-thousand yen bills at your feet.

“For the soup,” he explained as if the notion of spending such an extravagant sum on half a cup of pork loin soup made sense.

“Are you outta your mind?” You pushed the bills back at him, lest your greed take over. “How much do you think this cost to make?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, no real hurry to reclaim his cash.

Your initial impression was completely false. No bum would ever wave ten-thousand bills around as if they were nothing. No, this guy ought to at least be some troubled conglomerate heir that’d run away from his five-bedroom mansion.

“I’m sure you don’t know how dangerous this neighborhood is,” you said, placing your hand against your heart. “But as a born and raised local, allow me to say that if you keep flaunting wads of cash in people’s faces so recklessly, it won’t be long before you get mugged. It’s your lucky day you ran into me and not some sleazy money grabber, but trust me, not every day’s lucky, and not everyone’s as nice.”

Something about what you said must have resonated with him, considering his frown cracked into a simper.

“I’d like to see them try,” he spoke in a cocky tone that reeked of confidence. “How much for seconds then?”

“Not for sale,” you answered, throwing the thermos inside your backpack.

His weight shifted in your direction, chin balancing against his elbow. “Why not?”

“You see, I’m on my way to a job interview. Figured if I don’t cut it, then the soup will,” quickly adding, “It’s my trump card.”

“What a dumb plan,” he sneered. “If ya wanna bribe someone, better make an offer they can’t refuse. Couple of these work like a charm.”

He waved the money again, successfully drawing your interest when you noticed tiny splotches of red on one of the bills. Blood.

Picking up on the change in your expression, he hurriedly stuffed the cash inside his pocket, his thumbs sticking out in a relaxed grip so as to hide his discomfort. The air grew heavy once more, albeit for a different reason.

Every guess you’d made regarding this guy’s identity clashed with the next one. He was rude, but he’d jumped to your rescue. He looked unkempt yet strikingly handsome. He’d taken refuge under a bridge but was damn loaded. A walking (more like seated) contradiction of a man that intrigued you in more ways than he repulsed you.

“So, what are you doing out here? Did you also fall from up there?” You chuckled nervously while pointing upward.

He smiled.

“That’s a pretty old-school pickup line, if ya ask me.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Your chest pounded against your fleece jacket, hands quick to dispute him. “Did something happen? Why did you end up here?”

He shook his head.

“Did you run away from home?”

He shook his head again.

“Did you get into a fight with someone?”

He thought about shaking his head a third time, but instead, he opted for a groan and hissed about how he should have let you drown.

Your tongue embarrassed you yet again, as you mumbled an apology and cowered in your corner. For some reason, you couldn’t stop apologizing to him, and if that was enough to frustrate you, then it was definitely enough to annoy him. Maybe the time to leave had come. You’d done your part in thanking him, and it was really none of your business to pry into his sad character backstory.

“Well then. It was nice knowing you, and all. Hope you have a Happy New Year’s and a nice life, and let’s never see each other again for as long as we-”

“What if I told you I just killed someone?”

The blood in your veins froze for a reason separate from the cold. You were left staring at him with wide-open eyes and a wide-open mouth that refused to form anything other than a soundless “What?!”

“Thought so,” he scoffed as if he expected the outcome, sorrow lingering in his voice. “Go away if ya don’t wanna end up the same way. I’m still getting the hang of it, and I’m afraid it’d hurt more than drowning.”

But you didn’t leave. Even when that little voice of reason thrashed and begged for you to seize the opportunity and get the fuck away from this place, your legs refused to take another step. Instead, you settled back upon the snowy blanket and stilled your gaze on his face, watching a glimmer of something tune in the green of his eyes.

“W-Who was it?” You feigned calmness.

“Does it matter?” he shrugged.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Does it really matter?” he sighed, reconsidering his answer. “Dunno. Money, I guess. Not as if I had a personal grudge or anything. Didn’t even know the dude up until three days ago. Took him out with a single bullet to his brain. T’was instant since he didn’t move. Painless, too.” He tried to humanize his actions.

You weren’t entirely sold on his story, but on the off chance he was telling the truth, that made him a murderer and you a witness to his crime. Worse, if you didn’t rat on him, it made you an accomplice, and as far as you were concerned, neither was less illegal than the other.

Your hands cupped your mouth completely as you pretended to blow hot air, the reality being that you didn’t want to spew anything too backhanded before thinking things through. Oddly, it all made sense. The reason he sat down there like a puppy kicked by his owners. His devil-may-care attitude and rude comments that meant to throw you off. The blood on the bills and the stain on the hem of his jacket that you’d previously overlooked.

That was all the incriminating evidence one needed to possibly sentence him, and yet you sensed no real danger in his presence. Only a deep sadness that stemmed from his lifeless eyes, making you believe that his so-called victim was none other than himself. He looked as if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in God knows how long, the light in his eyes reduced to a murky shade of jade now that everything was laid bare.

There was so much you didn’t know about this boy, his name included. But you knew that look of despair all too well. If it was because of money, then maybe, just this once, you wouldn’t mind giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“How much did you make?” You lowered your palms.

Your question surprised him more than he thought possible, and his stupefied expression was a telltale sign of that. He flipped both pockets inside out and let the money fall onto the snow, revealing twice the amount he’d held before— a total of 120.000 yen.

“Minus a grand. Felt hungry after,” he admitted.

“Must be nice… With that amount of money, I could have rice to last me until the end of the year.”

“You’d kill for rice…?”

Glancing at his face, you couldn’t help yourself from snorting. You were both too deep inside the twilight zone to be questioning each other’s motives.

“Why act surprised? People like us do all sorts of things to get out of our predicaments, don’t we?” you asked, deciding there were more things you had in common than things that divided you. “Is ‘just money’ a better reason than rice?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “But if I were you, I’d get myself a pair of boots that ain’t a death trap of its own. Gotta be a special kind of idiot to wear crappy shoes in the snow.”

“These were my mother’s!” you objected, and he smirked. “What about you? Where do you plan on spending all that money?”

“Roppongi probably. Or Kabukicho. Heard the right price fetches you the right type of fun there.”

He couldn’t be serious. Those were two of the most renowned bad districts in the history of bad districts. Drugs, gambling, prostitution— you name it.

“How old are you again?”

“Older than you,” he childishly retorted.

“What’s your name?”

“So you can snitch?” His tongue wet the scar below his bottom lip. “Toji.”

“Last name?”

He contemplated his answer for a bit before proudly stating that he didn’t have one —that he didn’t need one— and then he asked you the same.

“Y/N.” You smiled faintly. “I do have a last name, but doubt the one who gave it wants me to have it. Would’ve asked it back if it had any real value.”

“So we are two fuck-ups,” he— Toji, declared.

“I suppose we are.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh, the kind that wasn’t heard but felt through the eyes of two kindred spirits entirely content with each other’s presence. Ever since your mother passed, you lived in a sphere separate from other people. Your classmates and those who tried to be your friends could afford the luxury of sharing takoyaki on a school day and going karaoke singing the next. They could attend field trips and leave memories on a string of Polaroid frames.

You didn’t. You couldn’t. There wasn’t a single moment in your life when you hadn’t thought about the cost of milk and the value of one-plus-one deals you convinced yourself you didn’t need. Such were the concerns you had at seventeen. Not boys, no friendships, no university entrance exams, no nothing. You couldn’t afford the price tag of a dream, let alone a tomorrow. You lived for today and for making ends meet, so how could someone like you ever aspire to be understood? How could you ever view yourself as something other than the zeros at the bottom of your meager paycheck?

Your self-exile had no room for others, yet somehow, this foul-mouthed stranger had barged his way in and given you a moment that you couldn’t price. A moment that neither loan sharks nor the bank could ever steal. A moment of your youth.

The thick fingers of a calloused hand came to tap at your knee softly, making you wonder whether you’d missed something during your short period of contemplation.

“When’s the interview?” Toji asked.

“Uhm.” You rolled your sleeve to check your watch. “Ten minutes? There’s still time; the place’s right around the corner.”

“Somethin’ tells me getting your ass over there will take longer than that.” Suddenly, the hand that was on your leg hovered above your head, prompting you to grab it as Toji towered over you. “Let’s go.”

“You coming with?”

“You think I’d rather sit down here like some bridge troll that reels in defenseless damsels in distress?”

You were tempted to answer “yes” to see his reaction, but he resumed talking before you could utter a word. “Won’t say it again. Let’s go.”

And with that, you followed Toji to the other end of the bridge, where the stairs you previously failed to locate mocked you with every little squeak your heels produced, until you stood back at the top of civilization, finding it, unsurprisingly, the same as you’d left it. Thoroughly white and eerily quiet.

Just as you thought your ways would part, Toji took your hand in his rather forcefully and picked up a steady gait that you were made to keep up with, your shoes leaving deep imprints in the snow.

He held your hand all the way to the diner, and although you were truly curious as to why he did that, you didn’t dare ask. You walked side by side in silence, occasional fleeting gazes catching his warm breath clashing with the cold. It was then that you realized how warm his palm felt, despite it being all bare. Warm, strong, and certain. So this is what holding a guy’s hand feels like, you giddily mused.

By the time you reached the front door, you were more reluctant to let go than you’d been to grab his hand, thinking that this was the first and last time the two of you were saying goodbye. Sweat made your fingers slippery. You were anxious. You slid your mittens off your fingers and, on a whim, pressed them tight against his palms, making him the recipient of the first gift you’d ever given. He shot the pink-colored wool a funny look —maybe because the prospect of him accepting such a girly-looking accessory puzzled him— and then lingered for a moment or two before he turned around and waved at you over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” You asked when the distance between you began to increase.

“You won’t need it,” you heard him say. “The soup will do.”

And with those final words exchanged, you traded the frigid cold for the diner’s artificial heat and the presence of a prospective friend for that of your boss-to-be.

Just like Toji predicted, you didn’t need luck, and you didn’t need that lukewarm soup either. The man hired you almost as fast as he saw you, sternly announcing that you start come Monday. You thanked him from the bottom of your heart and ran back outside, searching through the various white-painted buildings for that stubborn hint of black you’d not too long ago parted with— which you quickly spotted a couple of alleyways ahead.

“I got the job! You hear me, Toji?” You yelled in utter glee, sensibility alone keeping you from springing upward like a jack-in-the-box. “I’m not a fuck-up anymore; I got it! I got the job!”

You weren’t even sure whether that shadow really belonged to him and whether he’d actually made sense of all your frantic cries, but maybe if you’d hushed a little, then you could have heard a distant voice chiming, “I knew you would.”

It was the 27th of December when we first met, but it was on the 29th that I fell in love with you— the scruffy boy with the snow-laced hair and emptied pockets who ordered the cheapest fries off the menu as my company’s fee.

You had your answer locked and loaded— a trigger waiting to be pulled. A clear shot. One bullet was all it’d take to end it. One word, and the farce you called friendship would fizzle right then and there. A sadistic impulse uncoiled deep within your stomach, hitching up your throat like a vile serpent of temptation spurring your chaste tongue to commit the greatest sin imaginable.

I hate being your friend. I don’t want to do this anymore. Do you have any idea how hard it is?

All synonyms for the same emotion. A gut-wrenching, soul-crushing, and above all, self-destructive unrequited love that made your heart clench at the mere sight of him, pound at the sound of his voice, and hammer at the ghost of his touch. If you could reach deep within your chest and cut that useless thing off the strings that held it in its cavity, you certainly would. You’d hand it over to him and gladly watch him stomp on it with the biggest smile contorting the final expression on your face. You wanted to rid yourself of this pointless emotion, but you knew very well that to destroy yourself meant to destroy him.

The 18-year-old Toji that held your hand on a cold winter’s day as if it were the most precious thing to him. The 20-year-old Toji that came along to meet the sister and nephew you didn’t know you had. The 22-year-old Toji that said he was proud of you when you paid off your parents’ house’s mortgage. The 24-year-old Toji that came to your graduation from state college with blood-stained lilies in his hand, again letting slip how proud he was. The 26-year-old Toji that didn’t hesitate to knock the teeth right out of a handsy prick’s jaw, spending his first and last night in a holding cell. The Toji from the last ten years of your life that never strayed too far away from your sight and always managed to return in time for lunch.

Standing in front of the 28-year-old Toji, you felt more apologetic than ever, wishing that you wouldn’t have let your love for him fester into something so selfish and consuming. Because if Toji left, then you’d still have your sister and her family, but if you left, Toji would have none.

And that was why you could never tell him what that day meant. It was impossible to speak of it with any less fondness than the one depicted in your memories, and as dense as Toji could be at times, he was no idiot. So rather than giving him the answer he thought himself to seek, you retracted your hand and took a step back, forcing the meekest smile your guilty conscience could muster.

“How about an offer you’d never refuse?”

tags: @absoluteindulgence

[marcelllyn]

Best lovers- Oops, friends.

Sam is my boy of the month, and wow what a man!

Synopsis: Sam and Letty have been best friends since college, after a while they meet again at Bobby's house. But this time something strange is happening.

Warnings: English is not my first language, Possible mention of blood, mentions of pain and hallucinations.

In college, I remember being great friends with Sam, and we were glued to each other everywhere. Like conjoined, or Siamese, siblings. We both had crazy families who hunted peculiar things, with brothers devoted to their parents, and a dream of escaping that life. We were roommates, two Nerds, he graduated in law and I graduated in psychology, we were going to escape from that family curse that we carried. Together.

So when Jessica showed up, Sam left to live with her, which wasn't really a problem since he didn't ignore me. Whatever happened, he was scared that Jessica would find out about hunting, about his family, about his mother. The memory was vivid, me sitting on the cafeteria bench with some friends while he laughed with Jess on a bench far away, pretending to be someone he wasn't. He always wanted me if it was hurt or jealousy.

Anyway, the day I heard a knock on the door and saw him standing there and sad, with that puppy dog ​​look, and he hugged me tightly crying over his girlfriend's death, I knew that everything was lost, that he was lost and I didn't He was going to rest until he found the thing that killed his mother and his girlfriend. That was the last day I saw him.

Looking out the window of a truck that reeked of booze, I let my mind wander through the good memories I had at the college I dropped out of. Traveling the world and hunting supernatural things runs in the family. I chuckled as I remembered Sam. Even though a few years have passed, the longing for him never went away.

— So, how are your parents doing? — Bobby who was in my direction, questions, an old friend of my mother who has been a nanny on many occasions. — You know, after death, your sister.

— They are doing well, sad, but recovering. — I gave a robotic answer.

— Sad, but well, what a beautiful way to describe grief. – He murmured. — And how do you feel?

I looked at him smiling and responding:

— I feel good, strangely, it's as if she were still alive. Only far away, like she always was.

— She was a great hunter. You remove it from her. -Bobby laughed. — I remember that she played hunting vampires while you pretended to be a victim of the situation, when you weren't kissing the teddy bears saying that you had fallen in love.

— I've always been very soft-hearted and you know that. — I poked him. — She was really great, but unfortunately not even a great hunter can resist a shot.

Bobby agreed, shaking his head.

— You two have always been like two daughters that I never had, I have to say that having four children that are not yours is very difficult. — He laughed sarcastically. — I had to see her face when you left home to study psychology. She screamed, cried, I think she was afraid of being alone or jealous that you were brave enough to leave the hunt.

Four? I felt a pang of jealousy, who were these two other girls that Bobby considered his daughters?

— That's just like her. — I gave a painful laugh. —But I got back on track. Let the spirits and werewolves prepare! — I screamed.

We both laughed. I wanted to honor my sister, continue the family thing, and with the help of Bobby who was like family.

— I hope you don't mind. — He said as he parked in front of his house, which must have been a mess. — I have two other people accommodated, hunters too. Try to be kind, they are going through a difficult situation.

—What kind of difficult situation? — I got my backpacks. — Being in this house is already a difficult situation, how long has it been since you cleaned?

—Watch how you talk, young lady. — He took the backpack from my hands. — One of them kind of sold his soul to save the other's life, they're looking for a way to reverse it, and I swear I'm going crazy with them.

— That sounds interesting. — I turned the handle with more force than necessary, as it was super dirty and rusty.

I entered the house where I spent many good times with my sister, messy as always, but at least it wasn't smelly.

— I'm going to clean this place up. — I commented. —And where are the two visitors?

— They must have left, anyway, feel free to clean up, just don't touch the magazines under my bed.

I frowned, it was disgusting to think that he saw naked women.

— How disgusting! — I let out a shrill laugh. — If I'm going to spend time here, I better organize some things.

I settled in one of Bobby's forgotten rooms that were full of boxes and rubble, lucky for me that I had gotten there early. It took me a whole morning and most of the afternoon with Bobby to tidy up the room and get the dust out of that house. Cleaning the disgusting bathroom that was full of hair in the drain and expensive hair products.

At the end of the day, I was sitting on the couch painting my nails while Bobby watched the football game to hide his concern.

— What do you think of a pizza?

— I think it would be a good idea, my boys will be home soon and hungry. — He took a sip of beer.

— Your boys? — She said intrigued. — Don't tell me you hired…

-No! Obviously not! — He was so stressed that, if he wanted, he took the trouble to make a joke. — Order two, please.

I got up from the couch, leaving the red nail polish on the coffee table and picked up the phone, dialed the number of the pizzeria and walked around the house while ordering a cheese pizza and another Margherita. Being in the hallway, I heard voices coming from the room. For some reason, my heart seemed to be beating faster at one of the familiar voices.

I walked into the living room again, looking at my toenails, which were super smudged red.

— The pizza is about to arrive and I don't drink beer, so I'll buy some juice… — I looked up.

A man in a leather jacket was sitting on the couch messing with my nail polish.

-Goodnight. — He said gently. — You must be one of Bobby's boys. — I tried to say that without laughing.

The man raised his green eyes to see me and smiled, putting down his nail polish.

-Goodnight. — He gave a sideways smile. — Look, when you say it like that, it sounds weird, but what about you? Is that his girlfriend? I didn't know he was into that attitude.

I laughed and sat down next to him.

-No! — She said a little offended, but with a smile on her face. - Bobby is like a father to me, I'm just spending time here.

— Well, there are two of us, yes. — He got a little closer. — I'm Dean and wow, how lucky am I…

I turned my face away, choked on my words when I saw Sam there, standing there with a beer in his hand.

—Sam? — I got up.

—Letty! — He said excitedly. — But what… Are you and Bobby?

-No! — Bobby responded quickly, then taking a deep breath. — She is the daughter of some friends of mine, practically the same as you. Where do you two know each other from?

-Faculty. — We repeat in unison.

— Ah, so this is Letty… — Dean murmured. — Sam talks about you a lot, annoyingly.

I laughed, as if I was unable to understand anything. But I soon remembered what Bobby had told me when I arrived.

— Who was it… Sam, did you make a pact for Dean? Or was it the other way around? — I asked, taking a step closer to Sam.

— That's a long story for later! — Dean coughed, pretending to be melancholy. —Was she your college crush?

Sam laughed, shaking his head and said:

— Kind of yes, kind of no.

I opened my eyes wide, OK, that had taken me by surprise. But I cleared my throat, changing the subject.

— I'm really happy to see you again, Sam, and I'm really happy to meet you Dean. Sam loved talking bad about you. — I joked. — And I ordered pizza.

In addition to being happy, I was nervous. Sam or Dean had their souls at stake, and it was making me anxious.

— Bobby, how many children were you a father figure? — Dean said, getting up and grabbing a beer.

— Only four. Bobby laughed. — So, what did you find out today?

As he and Dean talked, my eyes were glued to this man who looked more like a double-door refrigerator. It was almost magical how handsome he was, how tall he was and how his hair was so well taken care of.

—So, what are you doing here? — He asked, approaching, I took a step back.

— I came to spend time with Bobby, help him with some cases.

— But you don't even like hunting. — Sam commented, taking another step closer. — And it’s dangerous

— The world is a danger in itself. So which of the two handsome guys died?

— Topic for later. — He pinched my nose. — And your sister? Didn't she come along?

— She… — I sighed and laughed. — He's traveling. — I lied, I didn't want him to feel sorry, he already looked bad enough.

— Crazy in both terms, Bobby as he is known. - He laughed, tucking his hair behind his ear.

— I think this proves that we are connected by something bigger. — I poked.

We heard the noise at the door. The pizza. I signaled with my eyes for him to excuse me and went to the door, I started to feel a sharp pain in my head. The voices in the room stopped, and a silence fell. I tried to open the doors with shaking hands, and when I managed to do so, I fell forward, in front of feet wearing pink boots. I looked up and saw myself there, literally, my ten-year-old self, with a sad face, wearing a pink dress and with both scraped knees. He held a strangely familiar necklace.

— Don't trust her, don't let him trust her. — Mine, I started repeating it several times. And then it stopped. — You have to protect him. She comes to get him.

She dropped the necklace to the floor, the pendant being a piece of stone shaped into the shape of an S but stained with blood. As she walked away, but without taking her eyes off me, I clutched my chest, it felt like my heart was trying to get out of my chest. My whole body started to feel cold, I screamed in panic and pain, but it seemed like no one could hear me. I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath and get up from the floor, but the pain in my chest and head was leaving me paralyzed.

— Letty, is everything okay?

At that moment, I couldn't distinguish which voice it was. But the moment I opened my eyes, all the pain was gone, I was in the living room, lying on the couch, with three men looking at me worriedly. I didn't feel any pain.

-Yes I am well. — I got up quickly by reflex. — Has the pizza arrived yet? — I asked bewildered.

Sam's strong hand placed me on the couch again.

— Look, you might have hit your head, or something. — Dean said, putting ice on my head. — I was lying in front of the door when we saw you.

— I didn't hit my head. — I took the ice out of my head. — It was a silly faint, I haven't been eating properly.

Sam laughed a little irritated, he hated it when he laughed in that superior and worried way. And I smiled at him, very genuinely.

— Fainting is never a silly thing! —Bobby and Sam said at the same time.

I got up again, I wanted to say what had happened, but I was embarrassed. So I simply said:

— It must be the contraceptive I'm taking, it's driving my body crazy! — I laugh nervously.

The three were silent. I walked to the kitchen with the pizza on the table. I tried to avoid them, trying to absorb what had just happened, the reason for that vision, the necklace. And of course the necklace represented Sam. But why? I thought it ended a few years ago, but no, apparently being the weird person who has visions is my charm. I took a deep breath, leaning on the sink counter.

I looked at the door. Sam was looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

— I must have scared the delivery man. How long did I pass out? — I sat down trying to look normal.

— About ten minutes. — Sam replied, placing his hand on my forehead. — You should change contraceptives. And after all, why do you take it? You are in no danger of getting pregnant anyway.

I laughed and closed my eyes.

— Haven't I? — I provoked. — And I take it so I don't have to go through the unbearable pain of my colic. — He said dramatically.

— We both know you'll stay a virgin until you die.

It will be? — I raised my eyebrows.

— Terrible liar.

— Terrible… — I rolled my eyes. — I lost my touch.

He looked at me sideways with concern.

—Stop looking at me like that, you weirdo.

— You're the weird one here.

— You are more. — I got up, going to get a glass.

I was surprised with a strong hug. He placed his face in my neck and sniffled as if he missed my scent. I could have done the same if he wasn't so tall and my face wasn't so comfortable on his chest.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

This is what gets me when people write in depth analysis about how dumb they would be to not go there with queer Eddie and with Buddie. Like yes, I agree it would be incredibly stupid and bad writing - unfortunately as much as I want that to reassure me(and I’ll admit some days when I’m sad and need to not be I pretend to let it), it doesn’t. Just because it would be stupid and bad writing doesn’t mean they won’t do it. We’ve seen this show repeatedly make bad writing choices before. I’ve watched TV shows time and time again screw things up in the eleventh hour, I’ve seen so many shows set things up and then take a hard left turn into the dumbest plots in existence. And they get backlash for it but still do it. So as much as I want to believe that because logic and basic literary analysis says Eddie is queer and Buck and Eddie are each others’ best match - that isn’t a guarantee of anything. I’m also preparing myself that if we actually do get a queer Eddie storyline and buddie canon - there is a high possibility that they stumble through it in a ridiculous and poorly written way. I want more than anything for that not to be true but it is still a very distinct possibility.

this is exactly my feelings- like one of my biggest pet peeves are people making posts as if buddie is 10000% happening and there is absolutely zero possibility of it not going that way which i’m sorry to be a debbie downer once again but that’s just not true

what kills me is everyone in the fandom keeps talking about “it’d be so ooc for _______”, seemingly forgetting the fact that s7 was ooc for so many of the main characters to the point that we were all ragging on the writers about it… like if they were able to write a season so sloppy and terribly ooc what makes you think they won’t continue to do so, especially after tim just said “i don’t like to plan out seasons”

ooc writing happens in tv shows all the time. just because something wouldn’t make sense for a character/plotline doesn’t mean they won’t just do it anyway. like I’ve said before, tim has shown us that he only cares about shock value and drama- telling us himself in a interview that “i can’t just let them be happy, then no one would watch” (which is such total bullshit but this is the man who decided to make eddie have an emotional affair with a doppelgänger of his dead wife rather than just, yk, confirm his queerness)

i get it. it’s disappointing. you don’t want your favorite shows/characters to tank and go off the rails. but unfortunately, it has happened time and time and time again in network tv, and 9-1-1 is not immune to this.

i fully agree with the posts and analyses that detail how the show has set up buddie being the only satisfactory endgame relationship between them, and how it would be foolish and bad writing for them not to, but unfortunately (as you said in your ask) this show has made god awful writing choices frequently (literally the entirety of s7 is proof of that) and they have jumped through hoops to avoid buddie canon countless times— there is nothing stopping them from doing it again.

and this idea that just because they’re talking about buddie openly must mean they’re going canon is ridiculous. the short is reaching the end if it’s run; if it even gets renewed past s8, it’s very unlikely that they’ll go past s10 at the longest. they just moved to a new network, baited the fuck out of buddie pre-s7 and then didn’t give us anything and people are still watching. they know that as long as people think there’s a possibility of buddie canon that they’ll watch the show— it’s textbook queer/shipbaiting. 9-1-1 is not immune to this just because they’ve said “we don’t want to be accused of queerbaiting” in the past. we’ve reached a point where the network queerbaiting won’t cause enough backlash to warrant them being cautious anymore. it’s a dick move, yeah, but these creators are in this job for one thing: money. they have proven they don’t actually give a fuck about meaningful storytelling. it’s why they rely on cheap drama and shock value to get by bc they know people will tune in anyway.

i completely understand wanting to be hopeful and optimistic. i will forever be hopeful for the day that buddie finally go canon (although i hope they ditch the mustache before then because i don’t want to think of my alcoholic uncle when i see eddie kiss buck for the first time) and when it does i will be so fucking happy after waiting for 6 years.

but that’s the thing. i have waited for 6 years. i’m tired of getting my hopes up each season bc “guys this is literally the closest we’ve ever been there is no way they aren’t going to go there now” just to get slapped in the face by the showrunners and writers. i’m not going to get my hopes up about it just to be let the fuck down once again. and frankly, i don’t wanna see the fallout when we are let down again because people decided to convince themselves that it was 100% for sure set in stone happening when in reality it’s really not.