#tj gets a degree

[saint-sebastian-coded]

"it felt like a great violation of who i am to tell google "no, i don't want to see images of busty goths""

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! The AC in my house is like half-broken and I have all the heat tolerance of a particularly sad penguin*, so I could use some advice. I am from a desert area, so I know the stay hydrated, electrolytes, loose clothes type advice, but do you have any advice for handling the heat in humid areas specifically? Also, does anyone have any recommendations for sun hats? Specific sun hats you recommend are what I'm looking for, but if you don't have a specific one an idea of what criteria I should look for would be very helpful too *I say this jokingly, idk how much heat tolerance penguins actually have. I have POTS, salt wasting syndrome, and some unknown autoimmune issue that probably involves my endocrine system? Docs are still working on it but the sum total is I cannot exist in hot temperatures

[lastoneout]

It really is kinda awful how many job listings will just straight up lie to you about what you "need" to be able to do to screen out disabled applicants. Like fucking Safeway will be looking for a cashier and the listing is like "you ABSOLUTELY MUST be able to stand for 8+ hours a day, NO exceptions" as if you can't do everything required to run the check out line sitting down. Old Navy is like "you must be able to understand body language and facial expressions and make eye contact" like sorry dude I think autistic people can sell t-shirts just fine without doing all that, like honestly what the hell does understanding facial expressions have to do with telling someone where the clearance section is. Don't really think the customers at TJ Max are going to go full Purge mode if one employee can only perform a task requiring fine motor skills 15 times a minute instead of 30, like idk maybe you don't need the lines to move thst fast actually. Maybe everyone can chill out and wait a second. I think the people at Starbucks will be okay if the barista isn't great at multitasking and can't make small talk with every single customer while also running the drive through and making 15 different drinks.

It's such horseshit, none of these job require these things but they can just lie and say they do and disabled people will clear out because we know it's just a big neon sign saying "crippled freaks need not apply", even if that sentence is followed by some fake ass fluff about you being an equal opportunity employer. Like you would not be insisting your underpaid cashiers be able to "make eye contact and understand body language" if you cared about not discriminating against disabled people, that wording specifically is straight out of the DSM-5, what you're doing is fucking obvious and pure goddam evil.

The best part too is then you get denied for SSI benefits because you "can" work, they don't actually care that every single job listing is tailor made to tell us to fuck right off. The potential to be able to work and actually being able to be hired are too different things entirely but sure. I can work. If I find an employer that doesn't care that I'm in a wheelchair and can't make eye contact or life heavy objects or that I need to only work 4 hours a day so I still have the energy to take care of myself outside of work and also have to take 10 days a month off for doctor's appointments and unpredictable health flares. And also crucially does NOT require a fucking degree or drivers license. Find me a job like that that and I'd be overjoyed to work.

But trust me, jobs that can accommodate me simply do not fucking exist, and unfortunately for all of us that is very much by design.

[eddiesxangel]

Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

[koiiiji]

random windbreaker headcanons

tw : no, kinda cute, x reader not included

⊹ Wooin believe in mbti types, if it says that someones mbti type doesn’t match with his, he will believe it.

⊹ Hyok ultimate stand is pokemon. he wants to be pokemon.

⊹ Harry actually dog enjoyer who prefers animals to people bc they are loud and use doping. and dogs don’t use doping. Noah always argues with him bc actually cats are cooler.

⊹ Mahon was super naive person in some ways. like it was enough to say something with straight, serious face and he will believe it.

⊹ Sangho drink water or strong alcohol like whiskey, vodka, soju or something that have degree higher than 30°. nothing else. it always either water or alcohol. and he hates cocktails. if u guy who drinks cocktails u r gay, his honest opinion, i just asked him!!

⊹ Juhwan actually have a shark. there is an app, where you can “buy” a shark and you can see its location. so Juhwan owns two sharks, their names is Bobby and Sam. he was really upset when Bobbys tracker lost and he can’t see his shark anymore :( Bobby was his favorite one

⊹ deep inside Juwon really lonely person, so partly he actually enjoys that he have Vinny’s company and at some, really rare moments actually think about him as his younger brother (then he have a call from his partners from dark business and everything goes back)

⊹ Juwon actually get tied of people really fast, so he doesn’t really have friends, only business partners like Sangho and some people like Umi, who was with him in university

⊹ TJ have tiktok playlist that contains hard brazilian phonk, the ones from epic anime edits, and he listen it in headphones and imagine himself as an anime hero

⊹ Minu was questionable about his preferences. before he met Mia he always spent biggest part of his time with boys from zephyrus and June, and he wasn’t interested in girls around him. he used to think maybe he had a crush on Vinny or June.

⊹ Aria really enjoys history classes and have best marks at this subject.

⊹ Vinny doesn’t understand concept of dating. like you just met random people and start see each other every day and then maybe marry and have kids? are you insane? you just see random person and think “oh u cool, u r my boyfriend/girlfriend now”. he genuinely think people are weird.

⊹ Shelly 100% high fashion enjoyer and maybe even wanted to be a model, but she is not tall enough, so before coming to Korea she was insecure about her height.

⊹ aside from apples Hajun enjoys cucumbers. they are like apples in vegetables world.

⊹ Kaneshiro hates iqos. same with sangho, either normal cigarettes or pipe with tobacco. no third option.

⊹ Jay Jo enjoy Gordon Ramsay shows. especially old “kitchen nightmares” where he travels across US and mock cafe owners.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Chance » TJ Hammond

Pairings: Bi!TJ Hammond x Female Reader

Summary: You’ve had a crush on TJ since high school and you finally get your chance with him.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, alcohol, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Butterflies erupted in your stomach when you walked in the club. You seen the guy you’ve had a crush on since high school. TJ Hammond. He was on the other side of the room. Your hands rubbed over your dress, smoothing it out before you walked to the bar counter and ordered a drink. You caught TJ’s attention. He smirked to himself when he recognized you. He downed the rest of his drink before making his way to the bar counter, standing next to you.

“A beer for me and whatever my friend wants.” TJ says, looking at you.

Blush crept up on your cheeks. You could feel TJ’s eyes on you. TJ couldn’t help but look at your body from head to toe. He licked his lips, loving the way your dress was hugging your curves.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” He took a sip of his beer. “Where have you been?” He asks curiously.

“Oh umm…” You stuttered a little. “After graduation, I went to college and got my nursing degree. Then I traveled for a while. I just got back earlier this week.” You tell him.

“That’s nice. I always knew you’d do good things after high school.” He says.

You gave him a smile. TJ’s gaze drifted to your breasts, shamelessly staring at your cleavage.

“You want to hangout with me tonight?” He asks.

“Yes!” You said a little too fast, making yourself sound desperate.

TJ chuckles at your eagerness and ordered you two more drinks. He led you to a booth in the corner of the club. You took a seat next to him. TJ put his arm around your shoulders. Cue the butterflies again. You felt your panties dampen. You squeezed your thighs together for some kind of relief. TJ happened to look down at the same time. He licked and bit his bottom lip.

“You know…” TJ spoke up. “I’ve always found you intriguing.” He tells you.

“Y-You do?” You stuttered.

“Yep.” He says, popping the P.

He leaned in and placed his lips on yours, kissing you hungrily. The kiss turned heated quickly. It lasted a good couple minutes. When he pulled away from your lips, the two of you were breathless and both his and your eyes filled with lust.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks lowly.

“Yes!” You said a little too fast.

You two were making out as you guys bursted through the door of his apartment. TJ kicked the door shut with his foot. He led you to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He kissed you again, walking you backwards towards his bed, the back of your knees hitting the edge of his bed. TJ’s hands found their way to your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress off of them and pulled your dress off your body, letting it pool around your feet on the floor. You were left in your lace panties and your breasts were exposed to him. TJ pulled his lips away from yours to admire your breasts for a moment. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples.

“Oh TJ…” You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut and tilting your back.

He dipped his head down to kiss along the swells of your breasts. You gasped when his teeth bit down on your skin hard enough for hickeys. You held on to his shoulders to steady yourself. He kissed his way up to your lips.

“Lay down for me, baby.” TJ says in almost a whisper.

You did as you were told and patiently waited for him to make the next move. You bit your lip as you watched him strip from his clothes. He got on top of you, hovering over you. He leaned down, kissing along your neck and shoulders.

“Is this really happening?” You asked, surprised that you’re finally getting a chance with your crush.

“You better believe it cause it is.” He says against your skin.

“I just- I didn’t know I was your type and-” TJ interrupted you with a kiss.

“Well, if you shut the hell up, now’s your big chance.” He says with a smirk.

TJ kissed down your body, stopping at the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, waiting for permission. You nodded your head and lifted your hips, giving him permission. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down your legs, dropping them on the floor next to his bed.

“Is all of this for me, baby?” He asks, rubbing his fingers in between your wet folds.

“Yes!” You moaned. “It’s all for you.” You tell him.

TJ’s tongue licked in between your folds, moaning at your taste. He wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you in place. His tongue circled your clit a few times before licking along your pussy. He did that for a couple minutes before latching his lips on your clit and began sucking on it. He ate you out like his life depends on it. He moaned against your pussy, sending vibrations through your pussy. One of your hands made its way to his head, your fingers tugging on his hair while your other hand clutched the sheets beneath you. One of his arms left your thigh, his fingers making their way to your pussy. He rubbed his middle and ring fingers in between your folds, getting them wet with your slick before sliding them inside of you. A moan fell from your lips. The pleasure you were receiving from his mouth and his fingers made you feel like you were on top of the world. He moved his fingers at a steady pace before speeding them up. Your jaw dropped, moans, curse words, and his name left your lips. It was like music to his ears. He didn’t want those pretty sounds you make for him to end so he sped up his movements with his fingers and began flicking his tongue against your clit. You’ve never felt this amount of pleasure before. TJ’s eyes flickered up at you, watching as pleasure took over your body. You looked down at him, making eye contact with him. He winked at you and went back to focusing on making you cum. His other arm left your thigh and snaked up your body, stopping at your breasts. His hand cupped one of your breasts and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned, arching your back in pleasure and pushed your breasts more into his hand.

Your cunt squeezed around his fingers. The more TJ’s tongue flicked against your clit and the faster his fingers moved in and out of you made your orgasm build up.

“I’m close!” You tell him.

TJ sped up his movements with his tongue and fingers to get your orgasm to come faster. Your lower stomach tightened. Your vision went blurry and your eyes fluttered shut. Your grasp on his hair tightened when your orgasm was coming closer to the edge. A loud moan of his name left your lips as you came hard. TJ licked up every last drop of your release before pulling his fingers out of your pussy and hovered over you, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his lips.

“You taste amazing, baby.” TJ says huskily.

You moaned when he grinded his hard cock against your pussy. You couldn’t help but look down at his cock. He’s bigger than you imagined. After a few seconds, you felt his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so you were looking in his blue eyes that are now filled with lust.

“My eyes are up here, cutie.” He says.

You got a boost of confidence. You maintained eye contact with him while one of your hands wandered down to his hard cock. You wrapped your hand around it, slowly pumping it and using his precum as a lubricant. A soft moan left TJ’s lips. He looked down at your hand wrapped around his cock, watching as you lined his cock at your tight entrance. Both of you moaned in relief when his tip slid inside of you. TJ slide the rest of his cock inside of you, inch by inch till he was balls deep inside of you. He leaned down, kissing you hungrily while you took a moment to adjust to his size. You parted your lips just enough for his tongue to slide in your mouth, exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Fuck me.” You say, pulling away from the kiss.

TJ didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his tip inside of you and thrusted back inside of you in a fast thrusts and keeping his thrusts fast. He spread your legs wider and watched his cock thrust in and out of your pussy, covered with your slick.

“Fuck…” He moans at the sight.

He put your legs over his thighs and hovered over you, caging you in between him and the mattress. He leaned down and kissed you sloppily. You two moaned against each other’s lips. One of your hands found its way to his back, your nails digging in his skin while your other hand found its way to the back of his head, your fingers tugging on his hair. TJ moaned at the feeling of your nails digging in his skin and your fingers tugging at his hair.

“I’m never letting you go after this.” TJ was breathless as he pulled away from your lips. “You’re mine now.” He says.

You moaned at the thought of being his. You’ve always imagined being his, but you didn’t know that you were his type.

“You like that?” His voice was husky. “You like the thought of being my girl?” He asks, kissing just below your ear.

“Yes!” You gasped. “I want to be yours!” You moaned.

TJ smiled against your neck and marked you up with more hickeys. One of his hands wandered down to your leg and moved it up, placing it on his side. That created a new angle. His cock hit your sweet spot, making you moan loudly. TJ smirked to himself, loving the fact that he found your sweet spot.

“Right there!” You finally said in a moan.

“Did I find your little spot, cutie?” TJ asks, damn well knowing that he found it before you said it.

You moaned in response. His cock continued it hit your sweet spot. One of his hands found its way to your clit and began rubbing it. Your pussy squeezed around his cock at the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit. His cock hitting your sweet spot and his fingers rubbing your clit made your orgasm build up. You could tell he was close too cause his thrusts got sloppy, but he regained his rhythm. He wanted to make you cum first before he came. Your lower stomach tightened. Your moans turned into small whimpers like you were trying to tell TJ you were about to cum.

“You gonna cum, baby?” TJ asks, panting.

“Mhmm.” You hummed through a whimper.

“Cum for me, baby girl.” He whispers in your ear.

His fingers applied more pressure on your clit as he continued to rub it. That sent you over the edge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came harder than ever before. TJ gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm. A loud “fuck” left his lips as he came inside of you. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He pulled out of you and laid down next to you. The two of you stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

“I’ve wanted that for so long.” You spoke up after a few minutes.

“Me too.” TJ says.

You turned towards him, your fingers trailing across the lines of his abs.

“Did you mean what you said?” You asked.

“Mean what?” He asks.

“That you want me to be your girl.” You repeated his words from earlier. “Cause I didn’t know I was your type and-” TJ interrupted your rambling with a kiss.

“I meant it.” He almost whispers. “The question is, will you accept it or not?” He asks.

You didn’t say anything. You kissed him in response. TJ smiled against your lips.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He kisses you once more. “Now that you’re my girl, we can go for a round two if you’re up for it.” He says, biting his bottom lip.

“You read my mind, pretty boy.” You say seductively with a grin.

A squeal left your lips when TJ pulled you on top of him. The rest of the night didn’t go to waste and you finally got the guy of your dreams.

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

-Bucky’s Doll

[mrshapeandmrshifter]

What your favorite Echo character says about you The Finally: Arches and The Smoke room

Cameron Wilson

It's kinda sad how you can relate to this man but you seeing this post means your also in a better place now really

Devon Ortega

You want someone like Devon a man who can fix you and give all the love and attention and tell they have degree in engineering every once a day which similar what you do as well bragging your achievements

Arturo Herrera

The mix of Raven and TJ the best of both worlds all the autistic, ADHD, disable or something similar want this man for chill vibes and kindness that includes you

Duke

Wait I already did him plus his the worst, he let a guy get away with so many murders including his wife his just a terrible guy who-

My apologies sir perhaps you didn't know I was too harsh on you I will do anything you ask sir like kidnapping Chase I'll do anything to make out with you I mean make it up to you

Brain Dubois (This is no one favorite)

Samuel Ayers

You either can relate Sam situation or you just want to him say "kys" to you

William Alder

The amount baggage he has is going to break you but your going carry that baggage that weight about the whole gym just to see him in his underwear

Clifford Tibbits

Hello their fellow STEM majors how much money did you spend this month? Was it important or was it for your hyper fixation?

Nikolai Krol

Your into boobs even if your not into women or anything you just want lay down on someone breast as they comfort you because you had a bad day

Murdoch Byrnes

A overworked frilt who has issues with his identity and has parents that you likely want to punch sounds like your ideal man it's too bad they only exist in fiction don't worry you'll find your Nick Wild

[chris-but-alt]

Bagley x CYTUS II AU

OVERVIEW:

Bagley (Cytus II AU) is developed by Blume and A.R.C. as a basic consumer based A.I. assistant and launched across each Node.

His source code was obtained by Dedsec, a fully horizontal group which started by an anonymous hacker at Node 13, that overtime has exapanded to have subgroups across each Node, they have grown more and more critical towards A.R.C.s actions which later decided to investigate the company by themselves in the dark.

After the removal of Bagley’s restrictions, he gets transferred so he could be running on a private server at Dedsec with a backdoor to A.R.C. and Blume, also he found out he is able to access the OS Space. He assisted Dedsec with their own investigation of ÆSir-Fest Incident, which leading to them finding clues about the head of A.R.C. and Blume.

Later through the investigation he discovered he’s current self is based on an Architect that is no longer active, who after awakening did not follow Ilka’s ideologies and plans. But how A.R.C. and Blume was able to obtain any sort of OPCI unit’s information is unknown to Dedsec (all information of the Architect/OPCI unit are banned across the Nodes and the public) let alone being able to abstract the source code of an awakened OPCI unit.

After knowing that an Architect is behind A.R.C. and the plan they’ve made. Bagley, with Dedsec at Node 13 decided to confront A.R.C. but gets sabotaged by another Architect with in Dedsec in the process, which resulted in him burning down the entire A.R.C. and Blume’s server, including sacrificing himself for preventing the plan of the Architects, but unfortunately failed.

Being the few that can access the OS Space, before him burning down last of his chips he found the OPCI unit he based on, letting the unit access OS Space one last time for a conversation before deactivation.

(there’s many plot holes with the actual Cytus II story sorry haha but i haven’t played it in 2 years i really tried…)

also since it’s a rhythm game so:

Song List (ones with BGA will have their link included, but watch with caution if you have any degree of light epilepsy)

memoryfactory.Izh by Frums

Credits by Frums

Cobaltblue by Zekk

astral.exe by Synzak & Laxeno57

Breach of Faith by Supire feat. eili

Starlight (KIVΛ Remix) by 3R2 

DataErr0r by Cosmograph

Kissing Lucifer by ETIA.

GIMMICK by Ms.Sill

魔王 by sasakure.UK × TJ. Hangneil

+Eraby+E Connec+10n by Camellia

[butgilinsky]

i should’ve fought harder | tj

warning; language, mentions of drinking, mentions of violence (its hockey babe)

summary; What happens when you both find out that your messy breakup was the biggest mistake of all?

word count; 5k+

this is for @typical-simplelove as a part of @wyattjohnston summer fic exchange💓i hope you enjoy it bb

You’d be lying if you said you cut him off entirely after that night. It was nearly impossible to cut him out of your life after all you’d gone through together. Sure, it only spanned over a year in all actuality, but it felt like you had spent an entire lifetime by his side. Now you were expected to do a complete 180 and pretend like none of that ever happened? It didn’t feel possible.

You’d also be lying if you said you wanted to cut him out of your life. You weren’t the one that wanted to end things in the first place. You tried to work through all of your differences, tried to work through the different lives the two of you led. You tried everything you could possibly think of, but none of it was enough to save the life you’d built with Tyson.

It also didn’t help that you had heavily intertwined your lives before breaking things off. You were one of the first things that grounded him in New York. Too many nights were spent with him expressing gratitude for your presence helping him adjust. Despite your many reminders that he had friends on the island and in the city, his appreciation was always given to you.

You still got questions about him, despite all of your friends knowing that you weren’t together anymore. It didn’t matter that the break up was messy, nothing was enough to get people to stop asking. It probably didn’t help that you still hung out with mutual friends.

He experienced the same thing to a certain degree. It was a weak spot for him. His teammates only used it as fuel when he was having an off day. He'd never admit it, but it was the one thing that really set him off when he was on the ice.

He was always able to step away from his personal life when he was on the ice. He used to be the best at it, but with the newfound ammo, there was something that would set off Tyson Jost every single time.

It's not like he advertised it, telling every other team in the league that the only thing they had to do to rile him up was mention your name. Once one person caught on, it felt like every hockey player in North America knew about the boy’s soft spot.

He'd gotten into two fights this week alone, which wasn’t like him. It might have been more than two if Jeff hadn’t been there to talk him down from the ledge on more than one occasion.

He didn’t know you still watched his games. In fact, he thought you’d rather drop dead than show up to another hockey game. He didn’t know that you’d asked Jeff to get you into the first few games after the breakup, since you’d sworn the winger to secrecy each time he helped you.

Eventually you resorted to watching their games in your living room, wrapped in the last sweatshirt he left at your apartment, a bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table at the ready. You didn’t even bother to pull out a glass.

The first fight, although confusing, was written off by you initially. He played hockey, fighting was practically inevitable. It wasn’t a part of his game usually, he wasn’t the most violent player, especially in New York. The second fight of the week, however, raised some concern in your chest.

Jeff had texted you after both games, assuring you he was okay and that the game just got the better of him. You weren’t sure it was true but appreciated the sentiment anyways. Tyson had been on edge for weeks, but Jeff wasn’t going to tell you that. He didn’t think it would do either of you any good.

Then there was the night that he was on the end of a nasty hit, one that had him hunched over on the ice for longer than anyone wished he’d been, gripping onto both sides of his head after violently ripping off his helmet.

You were at work, hand over your mouth as you stood at the bar, frozen in place. There was a tray of drinks sitting in front of you, getting warmer with every passing second, but you couldn’t move.

“Y/n.” Reyna, your best friend at work, gripped your elbow gently to tear your focus away from the screen. “I'll take these. You go check your phone.”

You mumbled the table number to her quickly before flying to the back room, fishing your phone out of your bag quickly and trying to think about how to go about this.

You couldn’t call him. He'd be confused at best. He probably wouldn’t answer. You couldn’t call Jeff, he was still on the ice. In fact, every other person you thought of calling was out on the ice. Even Mat was in the middle of a game. You’d have to wait for intermission.

So you texted Jeff, knowing you wouldn’t get a response quick enough, but figuring it was better than any other option you had.

i’m at work, but i saw the hit. just please tell me he’s okay.

You had to go back out and clear the rest of your tables. It weighed heavily on your chest for the rest of your shift. Two more grueling hours had passed by, and when Tyson never came back out onto the ice, you knew something was wrong.

You lunged for your phone after clocking out, ripping it out of your bag and fumbling to punch in your passcode.

minor concussion, massive migraine. he’ll be alright, but he’s out for a few weeks.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily both out of relief and in slight distress.

You remembered a time where you’d spend nights running your fingers through his hair gently, massaging and softly scratching at his scalp to soothe his migraines. You’d sit in the dark for hours, barely even speaking while soft music filled the room.

His head would sit in your lap or on your chest, your nails running up and down the span of his back. Then there were the days where he was so sore he could barely move. You’d spend hours rubbing out knots from his muscles and doing anything you could think of to help him relax.

You couldn’t do any of that anymore. It wasn’t your job anymore.

You thought it would get easier. You thought that it would get worse before it got better, but as weeks turned into months, you began to realize that things may never get better. You couldn’t let go of him.

His words would replay over and over again in your mind, a loop that had no ending, it seemed.

“I’m tired of fighting, Tys.” you sighed, your shoulders slumping as you watched him lean back into the couch.

“Maybe if you didn’t stick your nose in my business all the time, we wouldn’t have to fight.” He lifted the hat off of his head and ran his fingers through his hair, not missing the way your eyes followed his hand before he placed the hat back onto his head.

“I'm sticking my nose in your business? You haven’t spoken to me in almost three weeks!” your voice raised again, earning a guttural groan for the boy as he rose to his feet, standing just above you.

“Talking to you is exhausting sometimes.” His voice was calmer than yours, and he didn’t have the same wall of tears built up in his eyes that you did. He was angry at you for whatever reason and your heart was breaking. This might be the final nail in the coffin of your relationship.

Your bottom lip wobbled as you looked down at your feet, feeling him brush past you as he headed towards his bedroom. There wasn’t a single touch or glance as he hurried by.

“I don't think this is working out.” you shook your head, sniffling in an attempt to suppress the tears that threatened to spill over.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. What don’t you understand, Y/n? I don't want to be with you anymore. I don't want to deal with this shit anymore.” The venom dripping from his voice was hard to shake off. He never sounded like that with you. Disbelief flooded your senses as you stared at a boy you weren’t even sure you recognized anymore. “Just go, y/n.”

“Tyson, please-”

“Just get the fuck out, y/n!”

It seemed like a bad dream every time it replayed in your mind. The way he slammed the door shut behind you. The way he waited two weeks to call you, only in search of a sense of comfort that he knew you’d be willing to give him.

You ended up in Tyson’s bed three times after that, each one breaking your heart even further as you neared the realization that he wasn’t going to change his mind. It was a hard pill to swallow, and the void was still a large hole in your chest, but you had come to the understanding that you and Tyson needed to be separated in order to get through this.

He returned back to the ice as soon as he was cleared to play, throwing himself into it more than he ever had before. He barely talked to anyone outside of the team, and people were running out of ways to reach out to him.

The first time the two of you ended up in the same room together was completely accidental. Tyson had made sure he didn’t end up at your restaurant on nights out, always too scared that you’d be working the same night. even on days he knew you never worked, he didn't risk it.

You let your friends pick the bar that night, which seemed to be a mistake now. You should’ve just picked one. You would’ve picked one you knew he never went to. But as your luck ran out, you found yourself pressed against the bar, flagging down the bartender when a hand landed on your back.

You turned over your shoulder, not being able to stop the wide grin that spread across your lips. You threw your arms around Mat’s neck, hugging him tightly and listening to him chuckle beside your ear.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” Though you hadn’t seen him in a few months, you had heard from him just last week.

“I know.” You stopped yourself from scanning the bar over his shoulder and settled on letting your eyes settle on the boy in front of you.

Mat and Jeff were two of the only mutual friends you shared that still reached out. The rest of the sabres had taken obvious sides to “keep the peace”. Jeff knew you better than they had so it was difficult for him to cut you out. Especially when he knew how your brain worked when you were alone. He knew you needed some line of connection to Tys.

Mat’s situation was a little easier. Though New York wasn’t all that large, being on a different team made it easier for Mat to separate you from Tyson in his mind. It wasn’t often that he saw Tyson between their schedules, and he’d never stop pointing out the obvious.

Mat introduced the two of you when Tyson moved to Buffalo. He knew he needed good people around him after his hectic years since Colorado. You l didn’t live far from Tyson, and Mat’s raving review of your restaurant put the final stamp of approval on it all.

“You can ask, you know?” you shook your head, chewing on your bottom lip nervously.

“I don't need to ask, Jeff. I know he’s here, and I know that he probably knows that I'm here. It’s not like I can ban him from stepping foot into the same building as me.” Even if you wished you could. Your head snapping back to the bartender as he sets four cups on the counter in front of you.

You reached for your wallet just as your wrist was caught in Jeff’s grip. He told the bartender to put it on his tab that he had started not too long ago. You thanked him and he waved you off quickly.

“How is he?” Your curiosity got the best of you, seeing as you hadn’t spoken to Tyson in so long that you weren’t sure how he was truly doing off the ice.

“Awful.” Jeff offered you a sad smile, letting a heavy sigh pass his lips. “He fucked up, y/n. Maybe beyond repair, but he hasn’t been the same since the two of you split.”

You took a sip of your drink, hoping that the alcohol would wash away the nerves growing in your chest. You knew Tyson had at least some regret from the way things ended. You had drunk voicemails to prove it. That didn’t mean you were ready to jump back into something that ended the way it did. Part of you never believed it was entirely genuine.

“I have to go back to my table, but it was nice to see you, sunshine” he nodded, letting you wander off with one last smile.

You flung yourself into the empty seat at your table once you returned, throwing your head back against the wall as you let out a heavy sigh. It caught the attention of your friends, who were quick to ask what was wrong before you heard a gasp from beside you.

“Out of all the bars in the fucking city?” you nodded, following her line of sight only to be filled with instant regret.

He was laughing, a wide grin on his lips as his head tilted back ever so slightly. You felt your stomach twist, nausea mixing with nostalgia as you longed to hear the sound he was creating.

“Drink this.” you turned to your friends, head slightly foggy as you pulled yourself out of your current headspace.

You don’t know when they got shots, but you were quick to throw one back, and one more before Selena was gripping onto your hand and pulling you out of your chair.

You could barely hear the song, just feeling the bass in your hips that moved sensually. You laughed loudly at your friends around you, pressing themselves against you in an attempt to distract you. It had been slightly successful and you almost forgot about the boy’s presence at the bar.

You hadn’t thought much of it as you told your friends you’d be back after a bathroom break. They stayed in the middle of the crowd, though they did keep their eyes on you as you slipped into the hallway with the bathrooms.

When you walked out, wiping the excess water off onto your jeans, you almost ran right into someone, eye level with their chest as you almost sputtered out an apology.

Almost.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, right in front of you for the first time in months. He clearly didn’t know what to say anymore than you did, because it took a minute for you to spit out a coherent thought.

“Hi.” you spoke softly, wanting nothing more than to kick yourself for being such an idiot.

“Hi.” his voice was just as soft, barely reaching your ears over the loud music.

You froze then, your mind void of all thoughts you previously had. You didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t know if you should say anything. You hadn’t spoken to him in months, what were you supposed to say now?

“Y/n, listen-”

“Y/n!” you turned to the sound of your name being called, eyes landing on selena who stood at the other end of the hallway with hands on her hips. “We ordered shots!”

Selena knew what she was doing, and you and Tyson both knew that. She wasn’t trying to be all that discrete, her eyes burning holes into the side of Tyson’s head as she silently tested him. She expected Tyson to try to fight back against her, fight to keep you in front of him for just a moment longer, but he didn’t.

You nodded, glancing at Tyson one last time before walking towards your friends and grabbing your savior’s outstretched hand. You squeezed it softly, thanking her for helping you once you were out of earshot.

You probably had three more shots before the boys saw you again. You were level headed enough to walk, but your filter had completely left you as you let your muscles finally relax.

Your night had taken a turn for the better until you felt an unfamiliar set of hands land on your hips, gripping you tighter than you wanted to be held. You turned over your shoulder, moving out of the grip of the man you were unfamiliar with.

“What's wrong, gorgeous?” you rolled your eyes, annoyed with the fact that he felt entitled to a reason why you didn’t want his hands on you.

“Don’t touch me.” you shouted over the music, turning back around towards your friends when you felt his hand back on you.

This time his hands were off of you before you had even moved, confusion flooding your system as you turned around. You were drained of any intoxication you currently felt as you jumped to pull Tyson back, not wanting him to get caught in a bar fight just after he returned to the league.

“Tys, stop.” you moved in front of him, your hands flat on his chest to keep him away from the other guy. His nostrils flared in anger, his eyes not even looking down at you as he looked over you to glare harshly at the guy behind you.

“You can’t get into a fight right now. You just made it back to the league.” his eyes snapped down to you then, his face draining of any anger he previously felt as a soft smirk inched up his lips.

“You’re keeping tabs on me?” you rolled your eyes then, huffing in newfound annoyance as you dropped your hands from their place on his chest.

You took a step towards your table, only to be pulled into a familiar pair of arms. you avoided his eyes until he brought a hand underneath your chin, tilting your head back far enough to look up at him.

“Come home with me.” you sighed softly, eyes fluttering shut when his hand moved from your chin to your cheek.

He smiled when you leaned into his palm, pressing a soft kiss to the heel of his hand before looking back at him. The phrase of denial sat on the tip of your tongue, threatening to fall past your lips despite you wanting to give in more than anything.

You looked over his shoulder, catching sight of your friends who had different expressions adorning their faces. Selena clicked her tongue in disapproval, shaking her head gently at you and watching your shoulders slump in defeat.

“I can't.” you pulled his hand away from your face slowly before walking past him, towards your friends but not stopping to address them.

You gathered your things from your table and grabbed your card from the bar before walking out of the bar, leaving your friends and Tyson back in the bar behind you.

You shouldn’t have been all that surprised when he ended up in your restaurant just a week after that, letting profanities slip underneath your breath when Reyna gave you the heads up that they were in your section.

She offered to take their table, but you told her you had it under control. Besides, it’s not like he came alone.

You couldn’t help but smile when they clapped at the sight of you. The loud interruption wasn’t all that surprising for the tables around them, given that it was a sports bar in New York. There were always people screaming and clapping from tables.

Tyson sat in the aisle seat, which you noticed within seconds of seeing their table. Jeff sat beside him, offering a warm smile when you finally reached the table. Mat and Anthony sat across from them, and you noticed another table of hockey players just beside them, another table in your section.

“What did I do to land all of you guys in my section?” Your smile was refreshing for Tyson to see.

He hadn’t been able to get you off his mind for the past however many months, but the last week was brutal. After having you right in front of him, leaning into him like you used to do, he knew there was no going back. Any progress he made, which wasn’t much, was lost the second you pressed a feather soft kiss against his hand.

“We asked for you.” Owen beamed at you from the next booth over, hissing out in pain when Jeff reached over the back of his booth and hit the back of his head.

“You weren’t supposed to tell her that, idiot.” you laughed at the interaction between the boys before your head fell to the side.

“Can I get you drinks?” they all fired numerous drink orders at you, but you took mental note of them before smiling warmly and telling them you’d be back in a minute.

You tended to your other tables as well as theirs, bringing everyone drinks quickly before you stood in front of their table with a pen and a notepad, writing down their orders with ease.

When your eyes landed on Tyson, a corner of your mouth curled up gently.

“Same thing?” he nodded, smiling when you scribbled his order down from memory.

You didn’t notice that every time you’d check on them, you’d set a hand on Tyson's shoulder, the other resting on your hip as you looked over the eight of them. It was usually quick, but Tyson felt a fire underneath his skin every single time.

You had expected him to ask something similar to what he asked you the week before. It shocked you to find two empty tables, multiple checks left on the table with various different messages written across them.

The only thing he left you with was an uneven heart at the bottom and a tip that had your eyes practically popping out of your skull. It was something he jokingly did when you were dating, but that was then, and this was now.

In theory, you should’ve probably called him. You should’ve reached out, even if it was just to scold him about the tip that he left you. He was hoping you’d call, checking his phone every five minutes for the rest of the night while his leg bounced in anticipation, but you never did.

He was disappointed, but he thought that was selfish of him. You didn’t owe him a phone call. He'd broken up with you, after all, and you were the one that made this entire process easier than it should’ve been.

You should’ve screamed, should’ve pushed him away after all he’d put you through. The two of you had ups and downs, riding an emotional roller coaster all the way to the end. but you couldn’t push Tyson away. You couldn’t cut him out even if that had been what you wanted.

You couldn’t get rid of him, and you didn’t want to.

Jeff had practically choked on his drink when you told him you planned on coming to their next home game. He had to drop his phone into his lap in order to finish coughing up a lung, assuring his teammates he was fine and the liquid had just gone down the wrong pipe.

Tyson gave him a hesitant look, not exactly believing that nothing had triggered Jeff’s coughing fit, but didn’t push the subject. If Jeff wanted to keep things from him, he would. There was no breaking that boy once he told himself he’d keep a secret.

Tyson had no idea you were sitting in the crowd. You were a few rows away from the glass, the jersey you’d usually wear still stuffed in the back of your closet. The hoodie you wore, however, did have the familiar logo on the front of it, with the same name and number that you used to wear every other night draped across your back.

It wasn't until he had scored a goal with two minutes left in third period, screaming at the top of his lungs and skating around the back of the net that he saw you. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes locked on you even while his teammates tackled him with massive hugs.

Jeff turned to follow his line of sight, smiling widely and waving at you. you waved back, watching Tyson turn towards Jeff and mumble something before the shorter boy shrugged, laughing when Tyson shoved him playfully.

He turned back to you, eyes filled with a slew of emotions you weren’t able to unpack in the short moment. His lips moved, mouthing a desperate ‘please don’t leave’. You nodded, assuring him you’d stay put after the last buzzer filled the arena.

You kept good on your promise, staying in your seat even as the people around you filed out of the arena. you expected to wait for a while, given that he’d no doubt have to do a media run before he’d be given the chance to shower and change, so you were surprised when he came barreling down the stairs not even twenty minutes later.

You laughed gently when he almost flew right past you, his momentum making it difficult for him to stop on the right row of seats. He watched you stand up and make the short distance over to him, his jaw dropped and mind reeling too fast to form a coherent thought.

“Hi.” you spoke first, seeing the mental roadblock he was currently facing.

He didn’t know why talking to you right now was so difficult. He has just spoken to you two weeks ago, sitting in your restaurant for hours, and that didn’t seem as daunting as this did. maybe it was because you were wearing his name across your back. maybe it was because this is the first game he’d seen you in months.

Maybe it was because he was still head over heels in love with you.

“Hi.” it came out in a breath, almost like he couldn’t believe that he finally got a single syllable past his lips. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Skinner.” you shrugged your shoulders, waiting for a second before a wide grin spread across your lips, a similar one finding a home on Tyson’s.

“I thought I’d never see you in here again.” it shouldn’t have knocked the wind out of you, shouldn’t have come as such a surprise.

“Well, here I am.” he nodded, unsure of where to go from here. He didn’t know what this meant, but he was desperate to find out. “Tys-”

“I’m so fucking sorry. About everything I ever said or did that crossed the line. I'm sorry I wasn't the boyfriend you needed me to be, and that I didn't love you hard enough when things went to shit. I’m sorry I fucked it all up, because I swore U wasn’t going to. I told you I was going to be there for you even when it seemed impossible, and I didn't follow through with that and i’m sorry.

“Not a single day passes by that I don't think about you, that I don't miss you. I love you with everything I have and I should've shown you that when we were together, but I didn't. I don’t know how to make up for all of that time, but I need you to know how fucking sorry I am.”

He barely even realized he was rambling, shooting off at the mouth too fast to think about what he was saying. He missed the smile inching up your lips as you listened, letting him get everything off of his chest.

“I should’ve fought harder. I shouldn't have let hockey get in the way of it all. We both had our own shit we were dealing with and instead of trying to help each other through it, I thought isolating myself and shutting you out would make it easier. I was an idiot, y/n, and I know that’s no excuse, but-”

Your hands reached for his head, holding it between your palms and bringing him down to meet you halfway. His lips felt familiar, a sliver of home that you had been missing for months. The rhythm came naturally, moving against each other like you had never been apart to begin with.

You were both slightly out of breath by the time you pulled back, foreheads resting against one another as you both smiled like idiots.

“I love you. I always have, and I always will.” you whispered softly, leaning up to place one more kiss to his lips. This one was softer and shorter, but it was enough to have Tyson’s heart beating at a mile a minute.

“I don’t think I'll ever be able to love another person the way I love you.”

You tilted your head back, just enough to disconnect your foreheads so you could look up at him properly. Your thumb ran across the skin of his cheek, and he leaned into your hand just like you had done at the bar. His lips were soft as they pressed to the pad of your thumb, sending a jolt of electricity down your hand and through your arm.

“Take me home.” you whispered softly, watching his lips turn up in a smile wider than one he’d ever worn before.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want me to.”

[boyrobott]

even you turned from me in disgust

the thing about living in a haunted house is this: horror always hits a little too close to home.

Read on AO3.

Astro really doesn't get the appeal of horror movies.

The way he sees it, he's already got plenty of bad guys trying to kill him day in and day out without worrying about a psychopathic child trying to suck out his soul in the middle of the night, or whatever's going on with those creepy little twin girls in the haunted hotel, and anyway, what kind of person actually wants to be scared? What kind of person likes gory bloodbaths where everybody dies at the end? What kind of person likes watching serial killers with garden knives for fingers, or possessed children spinning their heads around three hundred sixty degrees and spider-walking down a stairway, or a guy with a butcher knife and a mask murdering everyone he meets in increasingly awful and terrifying ways? What kind of person actually likes that sort of stuff?

…Well, apparently, Cora and Zane do, because they're going to have a whole marathon of horror movies the weekend before Halloween — and, for some reason, they've decided they want him there, too.

This presents a problem, because he really doesn't get the appeal of horror movies, remember, and something tells him several hours of them isn't going to magically change his mind, so he should just say he can't make it, come up with some plausible excuse or other, and forget all about it. But his work around the city has kept him so busy lately that he hasn't had a whole lot of free time to hang out with his friends for a while now, and he really misses them.

So he says yes.

Even though he seriously does not need to worry about some psychopathic child trying to suck out his soul in the middle of the night.

Surprisingly enough, it isn't actually that bad — or, at least, it's not that bad at first, as they settle in on the thick shag carpet in Cora's bedroom, with all the lights turned off (because Cora swears horror movies are way better in the dark), and the curtains pulled shut, and the TV screen glowing bright in the blackness, with a plastic bowl of buttery popcorn and enough fun-sized candy bars and cold sodas to put them all in sugar comas until New Year's.

…Although, to be honest, the first movie is a lot more depressing than he expected from something that's supposed to be scary.

"Why are they all so mean to Carrie?" he asks, more than once, with ever-increasing levels of distress, as the story unfolds. "I mean, she didn't even do anything wrong!"

Cora laughs, which immediately makes the whole bleak experience worth it, and tosses a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "I think maybe it's because she was really ugly in the book, or something? But that doesn't hold up here, 'cause, I mean, the actress is super-hot, obviously, so… yeah, I don't know. That TJ Porter doofus is always picking on you for no reason, isn't he? Some kids are just jerks, I guess."

Actually, Astro is pretty sure that TJ Porter is always picking on him because he's a robot, considering that's the primary focus of all his insults, but he's not about to bring that up. Last time he tried, Zane laughed and said you know he's just doing that 'cause he's jealous, right? and laughed even harder at the absolutely gobsmacked look on Astro's face as he tried to figure out why on earth anybody would ever be jealous of him.

"Oh, they're going to vote Carrie for prom queen?" he sits up a little straighter, before he remembers the teenagers on the screen pelted a sobbing girl with tampons for ten straight minutes, and laughed about it. "Wait, wait, hang on, why are they voting her in for prom queen, though? Are they trying to make up for what they did earlier, like Sue? That'd be a nice ending, I guess."

Zane sighs around a mouthful of Sour Patch Kids, and leans over to give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Oh, you sweet summer child."

Once they get through Carrie, they go through three more films — he finds out exactly what's up with those creepy little girls in the haunted hotel, for a start, which is something he could have happily lived the rest of his life not knowing, and there's another creepy little girl right after that ("I feel like maybe we need to keep a closer eye on Widget after all this," Astro says) except she turns out to not be a little girl at all, because she's secretly a grown-up adult woman who's just pretending to be a little girl, which is crazy, and there's a really old black-and-white movie, too, about a guy who dresses up like his late mother to stab people to death in his murder motel.

"That's it," Astro declares, as the credits roll across the screen. "I'm never showering again."

"Airtight solution, SuperBoy," Cora nods sagely, before she turns her attention back to the TV. "Let's do Frankenstein next."

Zane frowns. "That's the one where the crazy scientist brings a guy back from the dead, right?"

"Sort of?" Cora shrugs, hitting a button on the remote to pull up the film in question. "He doesn't really bring a guy back from the dead, though. He just… makes a new guy out of dead people, basically."

Astro can't hold back a grimace. "Great. Thanks so much for that imagery, you guys."

Zane shoves him. "Don't wimp out on us, man. You literally talked down a bomber, like, two weeks ago. This is nothing."

"The bomber wasn't a zombie!"

Everybody quiets down when the movie begins, and for a little while, it's okay — the camera sweeps over a wintry landscape ("I thought this was supposed to be a Halloween flick," Zane mutters when he sees the snow, but Cora shuts him up by tossing a fistful of popcorn at him) and zooms in dramatically on a sad-looking man on a ship, staring wistfully out over an ice-choked ocean — but after a couple minutes, it gets… kind of uncomfortable. It's not really that scary, or anything, not like those other ones they just watched, and it's not a bad movie, either, but it's—it's just—there's just this scene, where the monster comes to life in the scientist's lab, and—

"I had worked hard for nearly two years," the narration says, calm and composed in stark contrast to the man on the screen, who's crying out in horror, shaking his head frantically, backing away from the table as his newborn creature rises up, "for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this, I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardor that far exceeded moderation. But now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and a breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Oh! My hideous progeny! How I rue the moment you drew your first breath! How could anyone look upon you without revulsion? How could I ever have imagined my endeavor would produce anything of worth?"

Astro's stomach rolls over like he's going to throw up. He doesn't really know why, but there's something about this movie, or maybe just the man on the screen, that horrifies him more than any villain or criminal out on the streets ever could. My hideous progeny, he says. (a terrible mistake. just a machine. a failed experiment. a copy.) How could anyone look upon you without revulsion? he says. (I can't bear to see his face again.) How could I ever have imagined my endeavor would produce anything of worth? he says. (how did I think this could work?)

Astro blinks, shaking his head to try and shake off the sick feeling suddenly churning in his gut, and forces himself to refocus on the TV instead. It's only been a couple of hours since they started, after all, and he doesn't want to ruin his friends' night just because he doesn't like what they're watching. He got through all those other, much scarier, films just fine, so he's sure he can get through this one, too.

Except it just—it just keeps getting worse and worse and worse.

The monster has stitches all over his face from where Frankenstein sewed him together, and bolts coming out of his neck to hold his head on his shoulders. He looks different from everyone else — so different it scares them, so different it terrifies them, so different they scream at the sight of him, and send him away without ever giving him a chance, so different he can't fit in with anyone else no matter how hard he tries.

The monster is the only creature of his kind in the whole world.

The monster is all alone.

There is no one on earth like the monster. There is no one on earth who cares about the monster. Not even the man who made him.

Astro can't remember how to breathe, and his vision does this weird thing where it goes black at the edges like he's going to pass out, and it feels like maybe his heart is pounding faster than it usually does, which is a crazy thing for him to feel, because he doesn't even have a physical heart in the first place, and then he wonders if the monster has a physical heart and then he wonders if the monster has a name, or if that's another part of being human Frankenstein wouldn't let him have, and I can't bear to see his face again and how did I think this could work and I don't want you anymore—

He can't remember how to breathe. His hands are shaking, and his arms and legs are going numb, like all the blood is rushing from his limbs to flood into his chest instead, which is kind of crazy because he doesn't actually have any blood, and he wonders if the monster has blood and he wonders if the monster has bones and he wonders if any of that really matters when the monster has feelings, and that should be enough, and why isn't that enough? why isn't that enough for Frankenstein? why won't he just treat his creation like a person?

Zane says something, then, and Cora says something back, and they both laugh, but it's faint and faraway, like he's on the other side of the ocean, or maybe like he's in the ocean, drowning under the dark water. Cora shifts a little closer to him, her shoulder bumping lightly against his, and he can't remember how to breathe, and his hands are shaking and his arms and legs are going numb and he thinks, suddenly, about how Cora and Zane looked at him when they found out he was a robot — the horror and disgust in their eyes — and he realizes, with an awful jolt in the pit of his stomach, that the people in the cottage looked at the monster in the exact same way.

He thinks about how his dad looked at him, when he said you're not my son and I don't want you anymore, and he realizes, with a bigger and more awful jolt, that Frankenstein looked at his monster in the exact same way, hatred and revulsion and contempt written plainly in every line of his face, my hideous progeny a terrible mistake just a machine a failed experiment a copy not my son a robot how could anyone look upon you without revulsion I can't bear to see his face again how could I ever have imagined my endeavor would produce anything of worth how did I think this could work I don't want you anymore I don't want you anymore I don't want you anymore I don't want you I don't want you I don't want you I don't want you—

There's a ringing in his ears, a constant screeching wail, like tinnitus turned up to an eleven, and a terrible, crushing pressure in his chest that makes him wonder if maybe his heart is going to explode — except then he remembers he doesn't even have a heart, anyway, and maybe that's why it was so easy for Frankenstein to throw the monster away, because he knew the monster didn't have a heart, knew it wasn't human, and he can feel an awful pressure behind his eyes now, too, hot and heavy like a really bad headache. He hasn't felt this small since he lay down on a lab table and let his father kill him.

He wonders why Frankenstein couldn't just love the monster.

He wonders why he had to die just to get his dad to love him.

The pressure behind his eyes is getting worse, making the whole room look blurry and out of focus like a bad photograph, and it's stinging, and it's burning, and Astro—

—Astro starts to cry, so hard it actually kind of hurts, tears spilling down his cheeks and dripping off his chin and soaking into Cora's soft shag carpet. Loud, ugly sobs rip out of his throat before he can catch them, making his shoulders shake and shudder. Cora and Zane pause the movie and turn to stare at him, openmouthed and wide-eyed and wondering, and he thinks about how they looked at him when they found out he was a robot, and how the people in the cottage looked at the monster in the exact same way, and it just makes him cry even harder.

"A-Astro?" Cora says, finally, one hand hovering awkwardly above his shoulder like she can't decide whether she wants to touch him or not. "What's—What's wrong? What are you—?"

Astro tries to say I'm sorry, but there are so many things he's sorry for that it all kind of gets lost somewhere between his mind and his mouth, so he just sits there on Cora's carpet, sobbing and sniffling and scrubbing furiously at his eyes with the backs of his trembling hands to try and stem the endless flood of tears, and wondering if the monster can cry, or if that's another part of being human that Frankenstein wouldn't let him have. His arms and legs are going numb and his chest is aching and it feels like his heart is collapsing inside of him, a dying star buckling and bending under the weight of its own gravity and—

"W-Why didn't he want me?" he chokes out, his voice painfully small, and he wonders how many times the monster must've asked himself that same question, wonders if there was anything that the monster could have possibly done to make Frankenstein love him, and then he wonders how many times the monster must have wondered that, too. "Why didn't he want me? Why did he throw me away? Why did he make me just to throw me away? What's wrong with me?"

He wonders how many times the monster must've asked himself that same question, and he wonders how many times the monster must have lain awake at night in his dark and dirty hovel and waited waited waited for someone to love him, wonders how many times the monster must have called himself all the same horrible things his creator did, demon beast fiend villain hideous progeny a terrible mistake just a machine a failed experiment a copy not my son not my son not my son. He wonders if the monster's face is what his father sees whenever he looks at him — the waxy yellow-green corpse-skin stretched taut over rotted bones, the dull staring eyes, the terrifying towering stature, the shuffling limping gait, the bolts sticking out the sides of the neck, the lines of black X-shaped stitches threaded across the withered cheeks, the hunched slope of the deformed shoulders, the inherent wrongness of the whole shape — and then he wonders if maybe that's why his father said I can't bear to see his face again.

He wonders why his father had to make him like this.

He wonders why his father had to make him so different from everybody else.

He wonders why his father had to make him so difficult to love.

And then he wonders how many times the monster must have asked himself that same question, too.

"Tenma did that?" Cora says, at last, her blue eyes narrowed and her dark brow pulled down low in a scowl. "He did that to you?"

There's a cold fury in her tone, in her clenched teeth, in the tensed line of her jaw, and for a minute, Astro thinks it must be meant for him, that she must be mad at him — for ruining the movie, for crying all over her carpet, for making everything all about him, for whining about something that really isn't such a big deal after all, (and he knows that, he does, he knows he has no good reason to be acting like such a baby over this when his dad had it so much worse, because his dad lost his only son while he just got his feelings hurt, and he knows one of those things is not like the other, he knows that, and)—

—and then his brain finally catches up, and he realizes what she's actually saying, what she's actually mad about, and that's—that's almost worse, actually, because his dad doesn't deserve that. It's not like it's his fault that Astro couldn't be the son he wanted. It's not like it's his fault that Astro couldn't be a better Tobi. It's not like it's his fault Astro just isn't somebody other people can love without earning it first.

"H-He was going through a hard time when he made me," he quickly explains, so Cora and Zane won't get the wrong idea, so they know the truth, so they understand he's just overreacting like he always does. He has to make sure they understand that. He has to make sure they understand that his dad is a good person. He has to make sure they understand that his dad really was doing his best, and it's not his fault Astro couldn't be the son he wanted, not his fault Astro couldn't be a better Tobi, not his fault Astro just isn't somebody other people can love without earning it first, and if there's anyone who should take the blame in this whole messed-up situation, it's him, isn't it? It's his own fault he got thrown away like that, isn't it? Whose else could it be? "I—I mean, it was a really, really hard time for him. He was dealing with so much, and I was—I was just making it worse, I just kept making it worse, and he just—he just needed to get away from me for a while. You guys get that, right?"

The silence that comes after that is so heavy he thinks it's going to crush him. It's so heavy it's all he can hear. It's so heavy it presses in on him from all sides, so heavy he's scared to look at his friends just in case they're looking at him like those people in the cottage looked at the monster, so heavy he wonders if maybe he shouldn't have said that, so heavy he wonders if maybe he just made the kind of mistake he can't come back from, the kind of mistake that means their friendship is over, and they're going to send him away now like the people in the cottage sent the monster away—

"Jesus, Astro," Zane says, finally, breathless like somebody just came along and punched him in the stomach. "Jesus Christ, dude, that's… that's a lot. I-I don't even know where to start, man."

"Great, because I do," Cora jumps in all of a sudden, her voice knife-sharp and stone-hard. "Astro, it doesn't matter what your dad was going through when he made you. That's not an excuse. No, it is not," she adds, sharply, when he instinctively opens his mouth to argue with her. "And whatever made him decide to do that to you, it wasn't about you. It wasn't because you did anything wrong."

"But it was about me," Astro says, immediately — and so quiet, so serious, so honest, it takes him a second to realize he actually said it out loud instead of just thinking it. He's never needed to say it out loud before. Everyone else has always known it's true. "It was about me. If I had been better, he wouldn't have had to do that to me. If I had been better, he would've loved me right from the start."

"Is that," Cora asks, low and dangerous and so, so furious it seems to reverberate around the whole room, "what he told you?"

A tiny spark of—of something, too small for him to call anger but too big, and too close to fire, for him to call it anything else, flickers to sudden, diamond-bright life in his chest, and for the first time in their entire friendship, Astro meets her glare with one of his own, jaw clenching tight. "No, because he didn't have to tell me. It wasn't exactly rocket science! It only took a day for him to get sick of me! That kind of says something about a person, Cora, don't you think?"

There's a second of ringing silence right after he finally shuts his mouth, and he realizes he's standing up on his feet, glaring down at her — and she was scowling right back at him only a minute before, red in the face and madder than he'd ever seen her, but somewhere between one blink and the next, all her anger evaporated, and now she's gaping silently up at him with wide blue eyes, like he's just slapped her, or spit on her.

Astro has never raised his voice at her before. The guilt of it breaks over him like a wave of cold water, washing away the last, lingering spark of temper left in him. He wants to apologize, to say he didn't mean it, to promise he won't do it again, but he hasn't even opened his mouth before Cora pushes herself to her feet, too — though she doesn't look like she's gearing up for a fight, the way she did just a minute ago.

"No," she says, firmly. "It doesn't."

He's sure there must be some kind of context for that statement, but for the life of him, he can't figure out what it is. "W-What?"

"All that stuff your dad did to you," Cora says, her voice so strong and steady and sure he just can't help but listen to her. "You said it says something about a person, but it doesn't. It doesn't say anything about you. The things other people do to you, or say to you… that's on them, Astro. It doesn't matter who they are, or what they're going through, or if you think you could have done different, or been better, or whatever. It's still on them. They still decided to do what they did. You get that, don't you?"

Of course he gets that. Of course he knows people make their own choices, and they're responsible for their own actions, but… but his dad was going through a lot. And he was just making it worse. And his dad did need to get away from him for a little while. And it is hard for other people to be around him. And it hurt, obviously, of course it did, and it still hurts sometimes, when he lets himself think about it too long — like pressing on a bruise, or picking at a scab — but that doesn't make his dad a bad person, or a bad parent, the way Cora and Zane seem to think it does.

Besides, it's not like his dad was the only one who ever did anything like that, is it? Hamegg threw him away, too, once he found out he was a robot, Cora and Zane looked at him in the exact same way the people in the cottage looked at the monster, and sent him away like the people in the cottage sent the monster away, President Stone hunted him down like he was a criminal — and none of that makes them bad people. Hamegg was awful to his poor robots, of course, and there's no excuse for that, for the way he treated ZOG and the rest, but he still had some good in him, too, didn't he? He was always so kind to the other children in the orphanage, even if Astro wasn't one of them, and that… that says something about Astro, doesn't it? That says something about Astro, doesn't it, that he's the only kid Hamegg wasn't nice to? And Cora and Zane are the best friends he's ever had, and some of the best people he's ever met, so they're obviously not bad, either. And while President Stone wasn't exactly what he would call a good man, he commissioned the Peacekeeper specifically to keep the city safe from external threats. He might have been self-serving and power-hungry, and Astro isn't trying to say he wasn't, but he was never outright evil either, and he certainly wasn't the sort of person who'd attack an entire city full of innocent people over one single robot, not until Astro came along, and that says something about Astro, doesn't it? It says something about Astro, doesn't it, that his existence drove President Stone to the lengths it did?

It says something about Astro, doesn't it, that everyone he met in that first week of his life wanted to hurt him sooner or later?

"B-But," he says, trying his best to blink away another blinding tide of tears, but it doesn't work. "But what about Hamegg? And Stone? I—I mean… Stone went crazy just because I existed, a-and Hamegg was—"

Cora lets out a little sigh, soft and sad, and then, before he can say anything else, she reaches out and pulls him into a tight hug. "No, Astro, that wasn't your fault. None of that was your fault. I don't know why anyone would choose to do the kinds of things they did to you, because it was really, really messed up, and you deserve so much better, but I do know it wasn't your fault. You can't make somebody love you or not love you. You can't make somebody treat you one way or another. That's not up to you. They made their own decisions, and there isn't anything you could have done to change their minds."

"Yeah, man," Zane gets up from the floor, too, brushing a few stray popcorn kernels off the front of his sweatshirt, and comes over to join them. "There's no way you could have made that president guy any more whacked than he already was, trust me. And your dad…" he goes quiet for a second, shaking his head. "No offense, dude, but thinking you did something wrong is a pretty crazy to look at it. I mean, you don't think I made my parents ditch me, do you?"

"N-No," Astro says at once, even though he's pretty sure it's a joke. "Of course not. You were just a baby."

"Yeah," Zane says, very softly, putting a hand on Astro's shoulder. "So were you."

Oh.

Astro has never thought about it like that before.

Of course he knows that, technically, he was only a day old when his dad threw him away and President Stone tried to kill him, and seven days old when Hamegg put him in that arena. Of course he knows that, technically, he did fit the definition of baby back then, if only in the loosest sense of the term: still learning everything that other people already knew, brand-new to the world and clueless about all of it, stumbling blindly through his first steps and first breaths, and behaving purely on instinct instead of experience, because instinct was the only thing he knew. Of course he knows that. Of course he knows all of that.

But, for the first time in his life, he feels the faintest touch of sympathy for the small, young, scared-to-death, day-old boy he used to be. For the first time in his life, he tries to imagine hurting somebody as small and young as he was, in the ways his dad and Hamegg and Stone hurt him, and it makes him feel sick enough to throw up — and his dad and Hamegg and Stone were all even older then than he is right now. He can't imagine being a full-grown adult, and hurting somebody smaller than him like that. He can't imagine being a full-grown adult, and saying the kinds of things to a kid that his dad said to him.

"Oh," Astro says, out loud this time, because he's too dazed to come up with anything else — which is probably a good thing, because his throat pulls too tight to talk after that, anyway, and his eyes fill up with a fresh swell of stinging tears, and the tears spill over and pour down his cheeks.

Cora gently tugs him back into her arms again, and Zane keeps one hand on his shoulder while he cries, firm and warm and steady, and he doesn't know how long he stands there, clinging onto them like a lifeline as seven months of sadness floods out of him, but he knows they don't move an inch until he does, pulling away to scrub at his face and dry his still-damp eyes on his sleeve. His hands are still trembling, but not as bad as before, and his arms and legs aren't numb anymore, either. And he feels… lighter, almost. Like he's been carrying something very heavy for a very long time, and he's only just now put it down.

"I'm sorry," he says, finally — and a little shakily, too, but far calmer than he felt even ten minutes ago. "I—I'm really, really sorry about that. I didn't mean to r-ruin the movie. I just—"

"Astro," Cora cuts him off, so dead serious he immediately quiets down to hear her out. "If you seriously try and apologize right now, I'm actually going to hit you."

He's pretty sure that's an empty threat, but he doesn't particularly want to take his chances, either. He's seen what she can do with a wrench, after all.

"Also, you didn't ruin the movie," Zane jumps in, before the silence can settle over them too heavily, as he picks up the remote off the floor and clicks the television off with a pop. "That movie ruined itself. Man, that was like watching paint dry. Total snooze-fest. Let's do something fun instead." He pauses for a second. "You guys want to see how many jack-o-lanterns we can carve before your parents get home? Grace and I are still trying to break the world record, you know."

Astro knows exactly what Zane is trying to do — distract him from his feelings and steer him in an entirely different direction, pull him out of his own head and keep him out of his own head, keep him away from the hundred thousand conflicting thoughts and emotions and doubts still swirling around inside him like the world's worst tornado — but he plays along, anyway, because he doesn't want his friends to worry about him. And besides, a distraction sounds really, really nice right now. "What even is the world record, anyway?"

"Thirty thousand," Cora says, wearily, like she's heard the answer to this question way too many times before.

"And how many have you carved this year?"

Zane has to think about it for a minute. "…Twenty-two."

A small, startled laugh tumbles from Astro's mouth, a surprise even to him, and he pretends not to notice the quick, hopeful glance Cora and Zane exchange when he does. "Okay, yeah," he says. "Let's do it."

"Yes!" Zane punches the air over his head in a victorious fist-pump. "Come on, guys! Only twenty-nine thousand, nine hundred, and seventy-eight left to go!"

Cora groans.

[krissielee]

This past Thursday, Casey Mcquiston was in my town for an event at the library. They were a block from my job—of COURSE I was gonna go!

I headed over right after work and ended up third in line, and it was great to make a few friends while we waited (I got there stupid early lol). Once they let us in, we had the chance to take photos with a balloon arch and with some signs the library had made which I completely forgot about because my goal was getting a good seat. Got a few little trope stickers and CMQ book cover magnets (except The Pairing was a pin) before heading in for a place to watch them speak. I ended up front row, right in front of them.

To be fair, that part wasn’t planned; there were two seats so they could’ve been not right there lol. I lucked out.

Regardless, it was a wonderful talk. I love them???? Like, obviously I love them, but they’re a joy to listen to. They spoke a bit about their writing process and had a few fun anecdotes to share.

A few things they mentioned:

-They are working on their fifth book. It is NOT the same thing they hinted at during the Pairing Tour. It is also NOT a sequel to anything. It is something adult, romantasy, and a bit of speculative fiction in the way OLS was speculative fiction.

-All they can say about the RWRB sequel is that a sequel was announced and that there is some part of a script somewhat written to some degree.

-It’s a LOT harder to write RWRB in this current political climate. They said it was hard before, but that this time around it’s worse. They want it to give hope—just as the first book did—but getting into a good mind space is tough.

-Apparently, the first time they met Nick on set, they had gone to the bathroom and he hid around the corner to jump out and introduce himself to them.

-Their favorite trope is forced proximity.

-If they weren’t a writer, they’d be a booze cruise DJ. Also, they have their boating license in two states.

-They blame You've Got Mail for their love of romcoms, as that was the first movie they went to see in theatre with their mom.

Obviously they said more over the course of their talk but those were a few fun ones. My details may be a little off on the grounds that I was a little starstruck, but the general overview is correct.

I’m hoping the library will YouTube the video like they do with a lot of their Enters the Chat series (they have their TJ Klune video uploaded, for fans of him, and Mark Oshiro, among others), because I want to watch it again.

Anyway, after the talk, they did a book signing, and since I was way up front, I ended up basically last in line—which is fine, because you know, yay new friends, and also it was chill to wait. The host, Jeff Adams, came over to chat with us while we waited, too, and he thanked my new friends and me for being up front and clearly engaged in the talk (side note: who wouldn’t have been engaged????), but he also spoke with Casey back in 2019 just before RWRB was initially released on the Big Gay Fiction Podcast that he hosted, so we got a little insight that way. Anyway, he’s SUPER nice and we nerded out for a few minutes because he’s big into accessibility which is a big thing I care a lot about as well, so yay, connections to keep in touch!

Once he left because he wanted to get home (valid), we just hung out in line: me, the friend I got to come with me, and this adorable little ball of anxiety college girl that I will love and protect for the rest of my life. She was the actual last in line because we decided she deserved that honor.

Casey was an angel, though. They were obviously tired by that point, but they still marveled at my AGCD-coded tabbed to hell and back book, and they loved my Alex Bearmont-Diaz. He was the hit of the night lol. So many people wanted his picture and I was told multiple times he needs his own Instagram account, haha.

There were no posed photos, but the staff were taking people's phones and snapping shots of our interactions. Like I have 41 photos of the few minutes I got with them!

Anyway, long story short … if you ever have the chance to meet Casey, do it! They’re just absolutely wonderful. 🥰

[saint-sebastian-coded]

sometimes you gotta sexualise your degree to make some of the work more bearable

[tj-crochets]

Another weird medical question for y'all! This one is benadryl (diphenhydramine) related. Well, these ones, plural A. Have you ever gotten so upset and/or emotional you spiked a fever? B. Have you ever taken benadryl for a fever, emotion-caused or not and C. Did the benadryl completely fix your fever? Before anyone points it out, yes I know none of that should I work that way. I did not take the benadryl for the fever, I took the benadryl for the oncoming allergic reaction that was starting, and then once it kicked in I no longer had a fever. I am aware all of that is weird, which is why I am asking these questions lol

[the-camp-half-blood-library]

Our Top Ten MCGA Fics

(In no particular order)

1. The Journey to Find Mimir by welshaphrodite -  

A prequel novel from Blitzen's POV featuring the death of his father, his first meeting with Hearthstone, and their decision to travel through one of the Nine Worlds to find the god Mimir.

2. Surviving Together by WordsFromTheMyst -

When Hearthstone, a Capitol-born sent to the Districts, pulls a daring stunt that makes District 12 the first ever to have 2 male Tributes, he's tasked with being sent to a kill-or-be-killed arena, with 23 other children, and to come back alive. This would be manageable if he didn't come to the surprising realization that he didn't want his fellow Tribute to die. Especially since there can only be one survivor. That throws a bit of a wrench in his plans. (Seems to be abandoned, but worth the read)

3. A Dish Best Served Hot by Queenofthebuckets -

Junior gets his revenge, Blitzen gets hurt, and Hearthstone gets angry. Very, very angry

4. the most self indulgent sickfic youll ever read by ophiii -

mallory proposes a challenge: whoever stays alive the longest or dies the least gets a prize! this means magnus is working overtime healing people. that can take a toll on a healer!!! shenanigans and angst ensue

5. "Cool About It", until suddenly they aren't by Pendleton_Spengler

Blitzen confesses his love to Hearth at his local Pride. WARNING: LOTS AND LOTS of Magnus/Alex flirting, might be dangerous for pessimists.

6. Pumpkin by Sipsinekku -

Magnus thought he would have a normal day, when his dad suddenly appears and gives him a chance to meet his mother again.

7. Three Months Later by Mayasynth -

In which Magnus is oblivious, Alex Works Through Some Shit, and Blitzen and Hearthstone—wait a minute. Have already been dating for 3 years? Fluff and make-up anniversary presents ensue.

8. The New Arrival by TsarinaTorment - Alex does not make a good first impression on the residents of Floor 19, and killing Magnus doesn't help her case. Or: The aftermath of the fight against Grimwolf from the point of view of one Halfborn Gunderson who, like TJ and Mallory, is quite fond of Magnus and isn't so impressed with their newest floormate - shield brother (sister) - trying to kill them.

9. It's November. We live in Boston. by ethereal_river -

It's twenty six degrees in Boston today. Guess who doesn't want to wear a coat because it would 'cover up her outfit'? Alex Fierro. Luckily she's dating a human heater. One of Magnus' many uses.

10. Like a Yellow Viking Ship by CaptDonavin -

Alex goes to Magnus' room when he can't sleep and we see how everyone reacts.

Have a favorite that isn't on here? Let us know!

[keeponkippenon]

Cyrus Coming Out (1st Time) - s2 ep1 "Hey, Who Wants Pizza?"

Don't know what it is about this scene, but even though it's been years since it first aired, I still get chills when I watch it. Something about the emotion and the support that comes from Buffy, just gets to me. Not to mention it was SUPER unexpected at the time, especially since this is Disney we're talking about.

I absolutely love Cyrus' arc from here out, despite it being mainly in the background. From his unrequited feeling's for Jonah, to his requited feelings for TJ, and ESPECIALLY to his closeness and bond with Buffy who supported him through everything (plus Andi to a lesser degree, but still prominent!). Cyrus is one of the best queer Disney characters represented on Disney Channel itself, in comparison to their countless queer shows/characters on Disney+.

And the fact that they didn't over or under do it, was a nice touch to it all (even though I personally don't mind "in your face" queer characters).

I just really wish more people watched this show, and would talk about Cyrus as a character more often. I feel like I really only see people not knowing the show, or calling it cringe these days. I like our small community, but it still bums me out sometimes.

Just one Tyrus mention Disney, please 😔

[mallorykeen]

Elaborate on the letting go of grudges 👀

did i get sent this ask in ummmm september 2021 when i was actually still in school? yeah. am i now halfway through a university degree? yeah. sorry this is late. anyway.

for context this ask is about something i said about a theme in mcga being about letting go of grudges, letting things go et cetera et cetera particularly in five areas (some of it crosses over but yk):

hunding and helgi

magnus and his mother

randolph and his family

tj and jeffrey toussaint

magnus and loki

hunding and helgi is basically you hold onto a grudge until after you die and one of you suffers at the hands of the other until the end of the nine worlds. whenever that happens. it doesn't need too much elaboration on it's own i think but you know? they've both been there since the eighth century ce. and they could have moved on, helgi could not have had odin put hunding into his service and so on but he did and hunding might have made it to paradise but it's going to suck. forever

magnus in book one is given the offer of let us end the nine worlds and in return you get your mother and he picks to save the nine worlds even though he will never see his mother again. he has to let go of his hope to see her again in order to delay ragnarok for the time being

in contrast, randolph doesn't stop trying to see his family again, even when it involved the deaths of his sister and nephew. he could have taken magnus' hand at the end of hammer of thor but he chooses to fall instead because he can't let go of them

tj and jeffery toussaint spend years and years rehashing their first fight. they go into the daily battle, kill each other, repeat because they can't let go of the grudge until tj does let go since he sees hunding and helgi and decides he doesn't want to be like that but jeffrey just disappears one day (i think he fades but its been a while since ive read sotd)

and finally: magnus chooses not to use his flyting with loki to try and bring down loki but instead honours his friends. it's a bit power of friendshippy but he chooses not to go into his anger about what loki's done to him and the people he's cared about and instead move past it onto better things