#when someone doesn’t have an argument to back up their opinion

[dreaming-of-the-reality]

Your takes are so outlandish that it’s embarrassing. Are you a child or do you simply have zero media literacy?

Ah, so you disagree with a point I’ve made and instead of just simply saying “I disagree, here’s why” and sharing your opinion, you’ve decided to say absolutely nothing at all and tried to call me a child.

Please elaborate, I would love to debate a topic you’ve found to be outlandish 🫶

[maxtermind]

“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)

“your opinion of me won't change, right?”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy? ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: hurt/comfort

the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.

for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.

when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.

“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.

you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.

"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.

"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.

"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."

lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.

“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."

you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."

his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.

you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.

it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.

so you left.

"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."

he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.

“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.

“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.

"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"

the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.

"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."

it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.

all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.

the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?

he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.

"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."

"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."

you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."

he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."

his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.

you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.

"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."

you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.

when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.

you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.

and maybe this time, it’ll be different.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[1-imaginary-girl]

Wolf Bite

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, fluff

Word Count: 4850

Part 2

A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.

You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.

You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.

“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.

“No, it’s too risky,” he says.

“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.

“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.

“What if we get Y/N to call him?” Damon says, looking at you for the first time today. Your eyes widen as the rest of the group now looks at you. As if they weren’t just ignoring you.

“What? N-no way,” you say, not prepared to be put on the spot.

“Come on, he’s clearly shown an interest in you. Now’s the time to use that,” he argues. It’s true. Ever since you first met, Klaus seems to have taken a liking to you. But you think the group’s making it a bigger deal than it is. You think he just does it as a way to annoy the group. Though why he chose you instead of someone like Caroline or Bonnie, you’ll never know. 

“I don’t want to do that,” you say, not wanting to explain exactly why. You’re not even quite sure yourself. “Besides, it probably won’t work. I mean, I don’t even have his phone number.”

“Oh right,” Damon says, furrowing his eyebrows as you throw a retch in his plan.

“You could deliver the message in person,” Caroline suggests. Your jaw almost drops.

“Wait, so it’s too risky if someone else goes to the house, but not me?”

“Come on, he won’t hurt you,” Damon says. You’re beginning to think being a wallflower was the better option.

“We all have to help, Y/N,” Elena says. You choke on your words as you look around, seeing no one objecting to this plan.

“Wait, you guys my message spell!” Bonnie exclaims. Everyone turns to her and you are relieved to be out of the spotlight as you lean back against the wall. “I need paper, something to write with, and something of Klaus’s.”

Though you are currently mad at all of them, you decide you’re mad at Bonnie the least so you open your bag. You’re able to scrounge up the materials, even something of Klaus’s (you didn’t ask). With the necessary ingredients, Bonnie performs her spell and the written note lights on fire before quickly disintegrating. She opens her eyes.

“That should do it,” she says.

“We should go,” Elena says and everyone agrees.

†††

The group is waiting in the woods for Klaus to appear, as is expressed in the letter. Another argument broke out on the way here as to who will get the white oak stake as you only brought one to threaten Klaus with. The group didn’t want to risk any of the other stakes. In the end, Damon won the argument as he reminded Stefan his responsibility was to look out for Elena, which she did not like. The rest of you are armed with regular stakes just in case anything happens.

“When is he going to get here?” Caroline says, though no one answers as no one knows. “I mean, how can he even find us? We’re in the middle of the woods!”

“He can probably track us by seeking out Elena’s blood,” Damon says which angers Elena. Sometimes you feel bad for her being the only human amongst the group (other than Matt), and other times you envy her for it.

When the group is about ready to give up, you hear something coming. The other vampires can hear it too and you ready yourselves. Soon enough, Klaus stands before you with a smile on his face. “Well, well, isn’t this a nice surprise? I hadn’t realized we were pen pals,” the Original says. His eyes rake over the group and he perks up when he spots you. “Hello love.”

The others glance at you and, panicked to be on the spot again, you say, “Uh, hi,” with a small and awkward wave.

This causes Klaus’ smile to grow wider and seemingly more genuine, and you try to suppress the urge to blush. Although you don’t think your friends were pleased by that interaction.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Stefan says, bringing Klaus’ attention back to the group.

“Ah yes, the cryptic message,” Klaus says. “So, what is it that I must see? Truly, I’m dying to know.” You see Damon smirk.

“I wouldn’t act so cocky,” he says.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Klaus says with an entertained look on his face. His face changes, however, when Damon reveals the white oak stake. His cocky attitude shifts quickly to fear and anger. “Where did you get that?” he growls.

“Well it turns out when your sister burned down that bridge, she didn’t realize that other things were made from your precious oak tree,” Damon taunts. He’s exaggerating, of course, as there was only one other thing made from the tree. But Klaus still looks fearful.

“So what? You really think you can kill me with one stake?”

“We don’t intend to kill you. At least not now anyway,” Caroline says.

“We called you here as a threat. To tell you to leave Mystic Falls or else,” Stefan says with a calm smile on his face.

“Oh, and this isn’t the only stake. We wouldn’t risk bringing all of them with us just for you to break them,” Elena says.

“You’re bluffing,” Klaus sneers.

“Care to find out?” Damon asks. You can practically feel the steam of anger rolling off Klaus.

“How dare you threaten me,” Klaus says, his blue-green eyes turning a deadly shade of yellow.

“What are you going to do about it?” Damon says with a taunting smirk. Klaus’ face shifts and he smirks back.

“Why I’m so glad you asked,” he says. He then lets out a whistle and some of his hybrids emerge from the woods. You widen your gaze as you hold out your weapon, trying to assess the situation. The hybrids move in closer, and you can see the others preparing themselves. “Now, let’s try this again. Hand over the stake, and no one gets hurt.”

You thought the answer would be obvious. Sure, Klaus might be bluffing but you can’t kill that many hybrids. And what’s one lost stake anyway? However, you seemed to be the only one thinking that.

“No thanks,” Damon says. You look at him incredulously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Klaus says. As soon as Klaus advances, his hybrids pounce and the group is thrown into an attack. Your weapons will only slow the hybrids down, but your best hope is to get the upper hand and snap their necks to incapacitate them.

Damon and Klaus immediately face off. The rest of you prepare to face the small army of hybrids while Stefan protects Elena. One of the hybrids locks onto you and hisses before attacking you. You instantly try to hold the hybrid off and stab her, but you can feel her overpowering you in strength.

Still, you rely on your moves in combat to avoid any major injuries or worse, her bite. You manage to get the upper hand and stab her through the stomach, and while she’s slowed down, you move to behind her back and snap her neck, knocking her out for a good while.

You’re trying to catch your breath when you sense another hybrid coming at you too late. He pounces on you and you slam into the ground with him on top of you. You’re caught off guard and without your stake. When you try to move to fight back, the hybrid digs his teeth into your shoulder. A short scream rips through you, powered both by panic and pain.

Meanwhile, Klaus is fighting Damon when he hears the scream. He looks your way as he feared it was you, and the scene causes his eyes to widen. With a newfound urgency, Klaus faces Damon and quickly finds a way to snap his neck.

As you’re panicking from the bite, you feel the hybrid being pulled off of you and you see Klaus with a furious expression. The hybrid is very confused by his sire’s anger. You think you hear Klaus growl, “Not her,” before snapping their neck.

You’re shocked at what just happened all at once and remain on the ground, sitting up with wide eyes looking at Klaus. He looks away from the hybrid to meet your gaze and his eyes instantly soften. He looks concerned, though you’re not sure why. He makes a move to walk toward you but before you can say anything, Caroline rushes over to you.

She quickly puts herself between Klaus and you. “Stay away from her,” she hisses at him. Klaus’ expression shifts back to anger, and before you can explain to Caroline what’s going on, Klaus’s gaze flick from her to you and then he sprints away. Not just away from you, but he leaves the forest. The hybrids that haven’t been incapacitated follow.

You look after him, longing to talk to him and figure out why he saved you, when Caroline’s face comes into view. “Are you okay?” she asks while helping to pull you off the ground. You nod and you guess that’s enough for her because she walks towards the rest of the group.

You’re a bit stunned as Klaus seemed to show more compassion than your friend, but you merely shake off the exchange. From the woods, the group heads back to the Salvatore’s place. You trail behind them, your mind racing as you’re overly aware of the fact that a werewolf bit you. Not just a werewolf, but a hybrid. You haven’t told your friends about it because you don’t want to be a bother to them as that’s all you feel like you are these days.

On the way back, your mind wanders to the one person that seems to be on everyone’s minds these days. Klaus. You don’t know why he saved you, even from his own hybrid, but you want to thank him. You know you should hate him like the others do but for some reason every time that man looks at you, your stomach erupts into butterflies.

You feel awful for how you feel, you know all the harm he’s caused to your friends and not to mention the world, but you can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he pretends to be soft on you either. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, whatever they are, for fear of persecution but you can’t stop thinking about him.

You arrive at the Salvatore’s and the group huddles in the living room for a quick debriefing of what just went down. All the while images of Klaus and your bite flash through your mind. You look at your shoulder and you can’t see the full damage as it’s covered by your shirt but you know it’s not good.

“How are you holding up, Damon?” Caroline asks teasingly. He glares at her and rolls his neck.

“Doing just great thanks,” he says.

“What the hell even happened?” Elena asks. “I mean, why did they just leave?”

“All I know is, one minute I’m holding my own against Klaus--” Damon says and to this you hold back rolling your eyes. Klaus must’ve been going easy on him, toying with him. “--and then he gets this raged look on his face and boom, lights out.”

“He went to Y/N,” Caroline says causing all of their eyes to stare at you again. You bite back your annoyance at her for bringing that on you.

“What happened?” Stefan asks while the rest of the group waits. The image of Klaus looking at you causes your face to heat up and you struggle to come up with a lie. You don’t want to tell them the truth when you yourself haven’t even gotten to the bottom of it.

“I-I don’t know,” you say. They still stare at you. “Maybe he was mad at me for harming his hybrids.”

“There were two knocked-out hybrids beside her,” Caroline adds. The group looks at you with a mix of shock and amazement.

“You knocked out two of them?” Damon asks with surprise and slight amusement. You don’t want to outwardly lie so you just kind of nod.

“And then he just left,” you say.

“It still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why target you specifically?” Bonnie asks.

“Maybe he’s miffed his lover betrayed him,” Damon says and your face turns beat red.

“W-What?! I am not his—” you burst out in surprise until someone cuts you off. No one even looks your way.

“Or maybe he’s planning something,” Elena suggests. The rest of them start diving into conspiracies but your mind is elsewhere. You suddenly feel drawn to look at your bite. The more you look at it, the more it’s like you can feel the venom pumping through your veins. Your heartbeat is suddenly too loud and you feel like you can’t breathe.

You don’t know if it has something to do with the venom or just your overall panic, but all of a sudden, the world goes black.

†††

Your eyes slowly open and your vision is blurry at first. Figures stand over you and after blinking a few times, you recognize your friends.

“She’s awake,” Elena says, as if everyone isn’t seeing it for themselves. You realize you’re lying on the Salvatore’s couch. You wonder how long you blacked out for.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Caroline instantly yells at you. You flinch at her volume but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why didn’t you tell us you got bit?”

At the reminder, you look back at the bite only to see that its gotten worse. You wince at the sight of it and face the group. You guess they discovered it when you passed out.

“I don’t know, I-I thought I could handle it,” you say, not wanting to admit the real reason. Most of them roll their eyes at you.

“Of course you couldn’t handle it!” Damon says. “You should have told us.”

I didn’t know you cared. You bite your tongue to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, losing interest in the conversation as you are now painfully aware of the venom from the bite.

“What are we going to do?” Bonnie asks. They begin to cut you out of the conversation even though they’re talking about you and you decide you can’t deal with this right now. You stand up from the couch, feeling a bit of a head rush before steadying yourself. This seems to draw their attention.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Stefan asks, as they all look at you with bewildered expressions.

“I’m going home,” you say and start to walk away. Unfortunately, they follow.

“You can’t just go home!” Caroline exclaims, reacting as if you just said you were going to the moon.

“Watch me,” you say, your frustration getting the better of you. You try to make your way towards the door but a few steps in you stumble and Stefan speeds over to steady you.

“Okay, we’ll take you home, alright?” he says and in that moment, you’re grateful for him. He turns to the rest of the group. “We can regroup at her place and brainstorm ideas there while keeping an eye on her.” The rest of the group seems to agree with the idea. In separate cars, the group drives over to your house.

Soon you’re pulling into your driveway. They’ve all been invited in before so entering isn’t a problem. With Stefan’s help, you climb the stairs and soon find yourself in your cozy bed. You wish you could just sleep away this problem but a sudden sharp pain from the wound reminds you that isn’t possible.

“So what now?” Elena asks as the group piles into your bedroom. It feels weird and you’re slightly uncomfortable with it but you keep quiet and just get under your inviting covers.

“Maybe we can ask Klaus for help?” Bonnie suggests. At this, Damon instantly scoffs.

“Yeah that sounds like him,” Damon says.

“Maybe he’ll do it for Y/N,” Caroline says. “He does have a soft spot for her.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough for him,” Stefan interjects. “We all know what he’s after.”

“No,” Damon says. “We finally have a real weapon against those Original assholes and I’m not just going to throw it all away for—”

“Damon,” Elena hisses and nudges him in the chest before nodding over to you. Once more, all eyes are on you and you don’t know what to do. Damon looks away, maybe feeling guilty for basically saying you’re not worth it.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation downstairs?” Caroline suggests. You once again wonder why they’re talking about this situation without you but you’re too tired and hurt to care.

“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Bonnie says and then the group filters out closing the door behind them.

Throughout the day a few of them check in on you every once and a while, barely giving you updates on if they’re going to find a cure. As your pain grows and the sky darkens, you start to think that maybe this is it. Maybe this is how you die. You never imagined it happening like this and your chest caves in at the thought of a final death but it’s looking more and more likely.

You’re not sure what time it is, but later in the night you hear a faint knock which sounds like it’s coming from your front door. You ignore it, not having the strength to answer it. You figure one of your friends will answer it. If they’re even home.

The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent, and you start to suspect that your friends have left. You take a deep breath as fear coils around your throat, constricting your breath. Your friends aren’t here and you’re going to die all alone before you even got to live. The knocking stops and you settle back into the silence.

Then a sound comes from your window. It sounds like…knocking? From your bed, you can’t see the outside since it’s too dark out. You wish your friends were here. Slowly, you climb out of bed and try to rally your strength in case you have to fight something or someone. As you walk over your confusion only grows.

There, perched on a branch from the tree outside your window, is Klaus Mikaelson. He gives you a wave and you hesitantly wave back. You approach the window cautiously before opening it.

“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to understand what you’re seeing. Hallucinations are a side effect of wolf venom, right?

“Well hello to you too, love,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face. His eyes roam over your body and his smile falters. You suddenly become aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to the Original. You try not to let your cheeks flush.

“What are you doing here?” His smile drops entirely, noticing your serious demeanour.

“I’m here to help. Now if you could just let me in—”

“Help with what?” His face becomes grim as his eyes trail over to your shoulder. It’s now out in the open as you’ve changed into pajamas. You then remember that he must’ve seen the bite when it happened.

“Your wound, love.”

“Why…why would you want to help me with that?” you ask. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, have my friends spoken to you?”

His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “No, I haven’t heard from them,” he says and though you can’t say you didn’t expect it, your heart drops at hearing it. “Wait, do they know about this?”

“Um yeah.”

He looks angry as he asks, “And where are they now?”

You look at the floor and try to keep your embarrassment inside. “I don’t know, I thought they would’ve contacted you.”

“Apparently not.” His face is still twisted in anger although you’re not quite sure why. Then he looks at you and seems to remember why he’s here. “So, can you let me in?”

The thought of having Klaus Mikaelson in your room makes your heart beat faster. And though you want to give in, to continue living your immortal life, you hesitate. “Why should I trust you?”

“What?”

“How do I know if I let you in now, it won’t come back to bite me in the ass?” you ask, your arms crossed.

Klaus doesn’t seem to understand your concern. “Love, you realize that’s a hybrid bite. I don’t think you have the time for this.”

“So you admit that you would use it later?”

His face scrunches up. “That’s not—no I wouldn’t do that—just please let me in,” he says, giving you a sincere look that threatens to break down your walls. Just as you’re about to question him more, a wave of pain washes over your body. You let out a groan as you slightly stumble back. “Y/N?” The pain grows more intense and you let out a whimper before you collapse onto your knees. “Y/N!” It’s as if your body is at war with itself and you can feel every impact of it.

“You have to let me in, just say the words and I can help you. Please!” You hear Klaus say from the window. But it’s hard to find words when the pain is so intense. You want it to stop. “Y/N!” You hear him bang his fist against the walls of your house.

You slowly lift your head up to see his worried face, desperately waiting for you to let him in. You no longer care if this will come back to haunt you. You take a few deep breaths before you say, “Come in.”

As soon as the words take effect, Klaus rushes into the house and scoops you into his arms. You clutch at his chest, not thinking of anything but the pain. He carries you over to the bed and gently places you down before quickly running over to the window to close it. The pain seems to be dwindling down but you know it’ll be back. Your whole body is so weak, you used the last of your strength to walk over and talk to Klaus.

Speaking of, he’s quickly back at your bedside, eyes furiously scanning you for signs of physical distress. Then his eyes lock on yours and you feel your breath hitch. “You have to drink my blood,” he says quietly to you.

You know that that’s the cure and that it will save you, but you’re still hesitant. This is Klaus you’re talking about. The big bad hybrid who’s been attacking your friends and causing chaos for weeks now. And yet for some reason, a part of you wants to trust him. A part of you wants to give in to the idea that he could be good. But how can you trust him when you can’t even trust your own instincts?

He must sense your hesitation, because he leans down to look into your eyes. When you look at him, you’re stuck by how truly beautiful he is. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but more than that, they hold a look of sincerity in them. “I know you don’t trust me, I wouldn’t either,” he says. “But this is what’s going to save you. So please, take a chance. What have you got to lose?”

He does have a point.

“I don’t want to die,” you admit in a small voice. Your breath stutters as you let the fear bubbling inside of you rise to the surface. Klaus’s look is sympathetic.

“I don’t want that either,” he whispers. Your eyes meet and you feel caught in them. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it’s because this is a different, more sincere side of Klaus that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s because your friends are gone and you’re feeling vulnerable. Maybe it’s because your instincts seem to have aligned. Either way, you nod your head.

He offers you a small smile. He then sits on the bed and gently shifts you so that you’re leaning against his chest. You’re too weak to move yourself. Klaus rolls up his sleeve and bites down on his wrist before bringing it close to your lips. You’re tempted but look at him to make sure it’s okay first. He nods and you sink your teeth into his wrist.

At first, you feel weird about the situation. But then you lean into it and begin to enjoy it. Klaus whispers encouragingly in your ear as his blood enters your body. You can feel your strength begin to return and the fog in your brain clear. You almost don’t want to stop, and the way Klaus is petting your hair doesn’t help. But eventually, you know you’ve had enough, so you pull away.

“Wasn’t so bad, eh?” Klaus says and you look up to see him smiling down at you. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so.”

“Then I guess my work here is done.” He moves you so you’re lying back on your bed, but when he moves to leave, you grab his arm. He looks back, confused.

“Why did you do that?” When his confusion doesn’t clear, you clarify. “Why did you help me?”

He looks down at the floor and his lip twitches into a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, love, but I quite fancy you. Wouldn’t want you dying on me before I’ve had a chance to win you over.”

His words shock you enough to let go of his arm. The strangest part is that he looks sincere about it. “But…you actually like me? Like, that wasn’t all an act?” you ask. Both of you seem to be confused by the other.

“Why would I do that?” You start to feel embarrassed.

“To—to get on the group’s nerves? To throw us off?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just like you?” To be honest, the thought hadn’t occurred to you. Trickery made more sense.

“Yes,” you say and then wish you didn’t. “I—I mean, why me? Why not Caroline or Bonnie?”

“Besides the fact that you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on?” he asks and you’re suddenly glad it’s dark because your cheeks are on fire right now. “Because you’re different.” That doesn’t make you feel so great. He must have picked up on that because he catches your eye and says, “Because you’re better.” The idea makes you flustered, that anyone would think you’re better than them, let alone a powerful hybrid like Klaus.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Hmm.” He seems to think on what to say before smirking. “Then I guess I’ll have to do a better job at showing you.” When he winks at you, you think your face might be on fire from how hot it is. Once again, he turns to leave.

“Thank you,” you call out which makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around to face you and seems confused by your words. But you mean them. He didn’t have to save you, you gave him nothing in return, and yet he did.

He smiles and you think it’s much better than the fake ones he gives to the group. “Of course love,” he says. “Couldn’t have my favourite vampire dying on me.” You give him a smile back, genuinely happy to hear someone say that to you.

Then your eyelids begin to feel heavy and you have to blink rapidly to stay awake. Klaus sees this and says, “Goodnight, my love,” before opening your bedroom window.

“Goodnight,” you say back as you watch the window close. You lay back down on your bed, thankful to no longer be dying. You guess you have your new saviour to thank for that. As you close your eyes, you can’t help but see Klaus in a different light. Not as a villain, but as a complicated man. You don’t think your friends are going to like your change of heart, so for now you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ll be content in knowing that maybe the big bad hybrid isn’t so bad after all.

[ladybracknellssherry]

I see so many posts since the dam broke about NG in which people are lamenting how horrible celebrities and people in power are and asking where we went wrong as a society to let this happen.

The fucked up thing though is that humans have always behaved like this. We just have the internet now.

And please don’t mistake this for resignation or apathy or anything other than disgust.

But I just keep coming back to the point that human beings are capable of truly terrifying, horrible things.

So I feel like we’ve got to remember that most people don’t do terrible things. But we’re all capable of them.

And I don’t fault anyone for being devastated to learn that someone they respected did indeed to terrible things. It would feel wild to call someone foolish or stupid or naïve because their first instinct was to believe that someone is decent. They’re not anything like that other than someone who was lied to.

I actually do think as a society we are in fact getting better about calls for justice in situations like this.

But people who behave like NG…people who do these things…their personalities are a cancer. And we can do what we can to try to prevent things like this from happening. But I don’t think we can stop it all from happening. It’s never going to disappear completely.

But we can continue to listen to victims. And we can continue to be vocal about demanding justice and accountability.

The court of public opinion and the legal system both fail terribly at times, especially in situations like this. Another flaw of human nature, I think.

The “I’ll wait for the legal system to decide” argument isn’t really helpful here. Because SA allegations / abuse are some of the hardest things to prove in a court of law. And there have been legitimate actual cases in which victims have come forward with allegations, there was no evidence to be found/the evidence wasn’t “good enough” and these victims were instead actually CHARGED with filing false reports. So putting all of the onus or faith in the law here just… again… isn’t helpful.

Sometimes the justice can be best served by demanding consequences that aren’t legal punishments. There are petitions to remove NG from his positions as a writer/showrunner in these shows we love.

Sometimes just making sure the word is spread is the push to topple the dominos.

As others have said and continue to say, you can do both terrible and great things. And they don’t cancel each other out. Doing great things doesn’t make the terrible ones any less terrible. Doing terrible things doesn’t make the great things any less great. Two truths can exist at once.

Sure, we can argue that continuing to consume NG’s work is continuing to put money in his pocket. Yeah. But once again, as far as my random internet user opinion.

I experienced some very similar things to what his victims said they experienced in these interviews. And they wrecked my life in no uncertain terms. I’ll never “come back from that” because we don’t. We just keep going forward having to carry that. It doesn’t go away.

But my abusers took so much from me. And the good things I got out of those relationships are made so much more important because of how much suffering they cost.

Sidebar, but that’s something that I see people using in their arguments for why the “abuse” allegations weren’t real or “that bad.” Because the victims went back. Or they continued to stay. Or continued to pursue. Listen. When you go through all of THAT, it is so common to scramble to keep what you perceive are the “good things” you get out of that dynamic/relationship. Or you convince yourself that it’s not as bad as all that. Because, god. “I went through all of that and they STILL LEFT.” “I gave them (they took) all of THAT and I still wasn’t good enough for them.” It’s this survival element where we have to convince ourselves all of that suffering we went through was WORTH IT. Or, the gaslighting gets imbedded and we believe it must have been our fault. “Yes, they treated me badly, but I must have done something to deserve it. They told me it was my fault. Everyone else loves them. I did something wrong.” Yeah. NO.

So if you can separate yourself from that abuser - get far enough away to have the clarity and perspective to finally say “no, that was fucking real what happened. That was abuse. They’re an abuser.” I say, anything “good” you got out of that - take it and fucking run.

NG is a predator at best. And we are all suffering for it. But we got our books and our shows and we found each other in these fandoms. I say take these good things and run. You didn’t cause this. Don’t let him take any more joy from you or anyone else.

[dearsnow]

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)

- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when you’re finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesn’t like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, ⚠️ mentions of alcohol / weed)

word count: 2,500

a/n - it’s so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing 😭 anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.

Bradley Bradshaw likes you. He’d go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. He’s never said it, though, not in that way.

When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.

Your first written words were each other’s names.

Everything snowballed from there, but he couldn’t say he was mad at it.

You were so entirely different, but that’s what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.

You like him, too. You’d go as far as to say you love him, if you’re being honest. You might’ve said it if he hadn’t been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldn’t really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you would’ve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.

When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.

One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.

Now that you’ve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.

You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like ‘duck’.”

He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like he’s afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. “You’re here? Like actually?”

You’ve barely replied before you’re wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. “Geez, Brad, put me down!”

He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe I’m seeing your face after all this time.” You’re even more breathtaking than he remembers.

San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. “You better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so I’m here to stay.”

His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I’d be stuck here with just my coworkers.” He doesn’t even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.

After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: “I’m so sick of the sun.”

It’s midday, and you’re prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. “If I wasn’t worried about our shit being stolen, I’d suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.”

You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was “too busy” to help set up. You don’t mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, you’d do anything. You’d even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.

As you work, the sun disappears quickly.

By this point, after over two decades of friendship, you’ve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know he’s attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didn’t know is that you’re pretty damn attractive too. As you’ve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.

So, as the sun’s last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.

The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. There’s also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, you’re focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.

He’s tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you won’t drink much of. You’ve already had a bit too much.

“So, know anyone here?” He asks. He’s eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you don’t notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.

You pop the can open and take a small sip. “Yeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.” You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal what’s so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.

“I don’t. I’m here for the vibes, y’know?” He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. “And the pretty people.”

You shift in your place. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” You’re almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe you’re a little drunk, or maybe you’re just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. It’s one night, you figure. You won’t ever see him again. What’s wrong with a little good-natured flirting?

“Absolutely.” He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shut— before you’re yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.

You stumble. “What the hell?” You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. It’s Bradley, and he looks furious. “Brad, are you kidding me?”

“Come here.” His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.

“Are you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?” You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.

“I’m not letting you kiss that piece of shit.”

“Who are you to decide who I kiss?” You’re so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. You’ve let him swap spit with girls you’ve never seen before, and now he’s over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?

He scoffs. “You didn’t even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.” Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people you’ve met have never even slyly complimented you. You’re not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.

“Make out with Bob or Nat, I don’t care. At least they won’t undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.”

“You don’t get to decide those things— friends don’t get to decide those things. I mean, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.” In the back of your mind, you know he’s right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.

Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like he’s regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. “I at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.”

“I reiterate, friends don’t get to decide those things.” He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, you’re definitely at least somewhat drunk. You’d never argue with him like this if you weren’t. You’re also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.

“What do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. I’m just looking out for you.” His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.

He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. It’s a word unspoken, one that’s been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume it’s friendly. “Do you really love me if this is what you’re pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

“I love you.” He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. “I love you.” He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He’s firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.

That’s when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. “I think you interrupted us, dude.”

Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, he’s getting decked in the face.

He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. “Fuck you, what the fuck! Fuckin’ Navy piece of fucking shit.” You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.

“Bradley…”

“I just want you to be safe.” He mutters, like he didn’t just punch someone in the face for you. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, romantically, but I can’t stand seeing you with guys that aren’t as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.”

You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.

Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.

Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment he’s been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.

“You think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?” You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin you’ve come to adore.

“Every part of you is. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, “y’know that girl I was talking to?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. “That, my love, is Reuben’s wife.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet “sorry” at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.

“Is that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?” Bradley whispers in your ear. “That’s one hell of a way to make me jealous.”

You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. “Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.”

He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. You’re honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.

“Yeah, but you’d best believe I do.”

He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?” You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.

“You really did mean it, huh, Brad?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes. It’s a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi! So I'm currently re-reading acotar and honestly I forgot how much I love this series. Because you're such an amazing writer (and if you're taking acotar requests) i was wondering if you could write a little angsty love triangle involving Eris x reader x Azriel? She's Rhys little sister and has been pining over Azriel for years but he never gives her the time of day and because of this she develops a strong friend with Lucien (they both just want to be loved) and in swoops Eris. Or Rhys makes some sort of deal with Eris requiring her help. I'm not sure I'm just such a sucker for an angsty love triangle 🤍

It took me a hot minute so I apologize. I hope you will still enjoy it. 🤍✨

You look lonely - I can fix that

You loved him. Loved him so much that you were willing to tear yourself apart over and over and over again. Watching him fall and break himself over females that wanted nothing to do with him. Settling for a temporary glimpse of love when you were there offering him a lifetime of devotion. But it’s as if he was unseeing when it came to you. As if all of your gestures of love went right over Azriel’s head.

“I just want to be someone’s first chance”, he chuckled bitterly after an argument he had with Mor. “You are though”, you muttered, despite eyes looking up at the males clouding your eyes for decades. “Not like a friend to you, little one”, he smiled at you. Making the aching whole shape of him within your heart bleed all over again. “But you are”, you muttered. Silently begging him to see you. But all he did was brush the side of your face, “You’ll sweet but you don’t know what it means to love someone who doesn’t love you back”, his words sliced you open. But you pushed the emotion deeper within. Watching him step away from you.

Then in came Elain. You had tried to keep him away. Keep him away from the hellfire that was gonna swallow him if he chose the path that he was going down in. But that had only made his frustration pour out on you. “I’m trying to warn you because I care”, you screamed at him, bitter tears falling down your cheeks. “No one asked for your opinion on my love life”, Azriel bit back, “Stick to your tea parties and pretty dresses”. You wished you could cut him out of your system. Get rid of the flame of hope.

“Save some for me”, you flinch slightly. Dropping the bottle of bourbon on the grass before reaching back to pull the spilling bottle up. Lucien didn’t seem to mind. And you were too tipsy to care as you offered the bottle to him. “What are we drinking to?”, he sat down next to you, pulling a handkerchief before handing it to you. “Our fucked love life”, you sniffed, hating yourself for it. “Yeah, fuck them”, Lucien saluted before throwing his head back, “You and I, we are on the same boat sweetie”, he handed the bottle back to you. “Two outcasts of love”, you chuckled bitterly before taking another sip.

What you didn’t expect was to find such comfort in Lucien. You two had no mutual interest in being together. There was nothing between you romantically but the comfort of having a soul that called to the same pain was as if breathing again. So you stuck together. Going on hunting trips. Parties. Gatherings. Visiting each other in your homes. So it wasn’t that big of a surprise when Lucien asked you to accompany you to one of the celebrations that were happening in autumn.

That’s how you found yourself watching him make females swoop over the magic tricks he was casting. Not being able to suppress a light smile. Loving that his playful side was slowly coming back. “Mind if I join you”, that voice alone made a shiver run down your spine. And another one once you eyes too in a sign in front of you. In a deep shade of green stood none other than Eris. Lethal the beauty of this male was. “It pains me that my brother brought a lady of unmatched beauty with him but left her alone to play ancient tricks instead”, he stepped closer bringing a scent of pines and forest with him. “I don’t mind”, you shrugged, “I’m happy that he’s in a much brighter spirit”. Eris hummed at your words. Eyes never leaving you. “And are you?”, he asked, making your heart flutter, “Are you in brighter spirits?” You tried to open your mouth to say something. Anything. To smile. To brush off the ache that didn’t leave you. Eris reached out, brushing away a strand of your night black hair, “You look lonely, my love”, he muttered, “I can fix that”.

And to his promise Eris stayed true. And soon your time was occupied with him. And only him. He showed you Autumn. Brought you down his childhood trails. His dogs had been an immense part of your everyday walks. But all of that only mattered because he saw you. Not past you. But right through you. Into the depths of your soul. “I’m not a good man”, he muttered one night, fingers lazing and brushing over your exposed shoulder. “I don’t agree with that”, you shook your head. “That’s because you make me better. I don’t have the urge to bite when I’m with you”, he admitted, filling your heart up with so many emotions yet keeping all the scars from cracking open.

You bring him home after that. To your brother. To your family. Fueled by the same urge to show him your home. Part of it you loved dearly. Only joy was wiped off your face within a heartbeat. “What is he doing here?”, Azriel snarled, narrowing his eyes at Eris. “It’s my pleasure to see you once again”, Eris didn’t even miss a beat as his fox-like eyes followed Azriel. “I’m here because I’m courting this lovely woman”, he reached out for your hand before bringing it up to his lips. “That’s bullshit”, Azriel grunted, “Step away from him, Yn”, he ordered.

“No”, you breathed. Making Azriel frown even harder, “What do you mean no?” “I am seeing him. We’re together”, you watched all of the emotions fighting in Azriel’s eyes. From confusion. To anger. To hurt. “But…”, he muttered. “I got tired of waiting, Azriel”, you sighed, “I was ready and willing to give it all to you but you pushed me away, I was a child to you”, shrugging you looked up at him. “I can’t live like a second… no fuck that… tenth? Twentieth choice?”, “That’s not true”, he cut in, reaching out for you to be met with Eris’s firm hand, “Times up, bat. She’s my girl now. And I take pride in calling her mine”.

[twoa-plus]

controversial opinion but i actually think ford being mad at stan for opening the portal back up is a lot more justified than this fandom makes it out to be

and like. to be clear. love stan. dude was just trying to save his brother and i can’t fault him for that

however. people act like the only reason ford was so mad at him was because he was just about to kill bill when the portal opened. and sure, that was probably a pretty major contributor to why he was so pissed, but y’know all those warnings ford mentions? warnings that ford, who is not omniscient and cannot see the future and would not have known he would be just about to kill bill, wrote against opening the portal?

the portal doesn’t open to wherever ford happens to be. the portal opens to the nightmare realm.

it might seem like bad luck that ford was in the middle of his closest attempt at defeating bill when the portal opened, but it was actually extraordinarily lucky that he was even there at all. how many timelines are there where the portal opened just a few hours sooner or later than it did, or where ford made a different choice at some point in time and just wasn’t there, are there? how many timelines are there where it wasn’t ford that walked out of that portal?

and like, sure, you could make the argument that it all turned out fine, but like. if you’re in a car with someone driving up a winding mountain road with no guardrails and they’re going 90 miles an hour, i think you’d have a few choice words for them regardless of whether or not they manage to get the both of you thrown off a cliff

like i said we love stan he’s great BUT i do think opening the portal was significantly more risky than people think it was

[itsabouttimex2]

MK and Mei’s Friendship

Wukong and Macaque’s Fallout

Mei isn’t the next “warrior”, and she would 100% beat your ass for implying she’s like Macaque

I’m going to preface this for anyone who might want to leave early- I personally dislike this theory!

Because to me, it isn’t a theory- it’s just wrong.

And usually it’s so wrong that it shatters the reality of MK’s and Mei’s character for the sake of forcing them into little “Sun Wukong” and “Macaque” shaped balls.

And so often it starts with demonizing MK/Wukong.

I see, so often, this portrayed in two ways:

1. MK loses his mind and becomes a vicious monster that must be collared and restrained for the good of all around him.

2. MK becomes obsessed with power and fighting, thus driving Mei away.

And both of these are done in an attempt to “link” the kids with the monkeys.

MK-Wukong and Mei-Macaque

We don’t really need to talk about the first two- most of the show is about MK interacting with the Monkey King and learned to handle his legacy and foes- we’d be here all day.

But, what sort of interactions do Mei and Macaque share? Well, for Mei, it’s:

1. Being a victim of his violent and murderous actions

2. Being extremely close to his other frequent victims

3. Bafflingly having no negative opinions on the man who led an assault on her people’s palace, tried to murder her friends, and forced Tang to unleash the Samadhi Fire, nearly killing her in the process.

4. Being a weaker character for her lack of hostile dynamic with someone who has hurt her again and again and again

5. Having a worthless “team-up” with Macaque without the show ever having her address what he’s done to her and her loved ones

6. Weaken her character by taking away characteristics like “willing to call people out” and “gets violent when people try to hurt the ones she loves” for the sake of a boring and short “team-up”.

…yeah, thats not a great list.

Already, Mei’s non-violent interactions with Macaque leave a lot to be desired- and don’t hint to anything even close to her being a “successor” to his story like MK is to Wukong.

Back to those two first bullet points, now, right under the read more.

Sun Wukong and MK are not; and never have been, “mindless monsters”, in spite of MK’s destructiveness in his monkey form- it is explicitly made clear that he’s in control of himself.

“There’s nothing “mindless” about this.”

And he was right. MK is completely awake and aware in his monkey form, with full mental faculties. He’s verbally capable of shredding Azure and decrying his crimes in an efficient fashion, all while kicking him around.

MK wasn’t “going insane”- he was having fun.

(That’s a rant for another day, though)

Nor did Sun Wukong solely drive Macaque away.

The crux of Wukong and Macaque’s fallout is clearly displayed in the show, in the fourth season of Monkie Kid- it started from a single fucking argument.

Now, I’d like to preface again: this is the first point that I see many, oh so many theorizers, artists, writers, etc- get wrong.

SUN WUKONG IS NOT THE “BAD GUY” IN THIS SCENE.

THEY ARE BOTH AT FAULT.

Sun Wukong is trapped. For attempting to overthrow the Jade Emperor, he is sentenced to FIVE HUNDRED YEARS trapped under a mountain.

Let me elaborate for anyone who doesn’t sympathize.

For the next five hundred years, Sun Wukong will be 75% immobile and alone under a nearly lightless mountain. There will be no noise, no stimulation, and no company. He will suffer in silence, and he will suffer alone.

But you know who ISN’T being punished for an attempt to overthrow the Jade Emperor?

Macaque.

Now, this is funny. Wukong leads a six strong band of brothers against the forces of the Celestial Realm, but only ONE of them faces consequences for the rebellion- himself.

Even five hundred years later when Wukong is set free and traveling with his fellow pilgrims…

No one else has faced consequences for the rebellion. All five of Wukong’s “brothers” (Azure Lion, Peng, Demon Bull King, Yellowtusk, and yes, Macaque) get away scot-free to continue their plans and schemes.

I would be pissed. You would be pissed. There is not ONE SINGLE PERSON in this world that would NOT be pissed about how blatantly unfair this is.

Especially not after spending five hundred years nearly immobile under a dark and lonely mountain.

So, even before all, here and now, under that mountain, before five long and lonely centuries have passed, faced with the current injustice of his predicament-

Wukong lashes out and blames Macaque.

No. Fucking. Shit.

All of us (none of us are saints, do not try to say otherwise) would have snapped in anger.

All of us would have been angry. Each and every last one.

Mostly immobile and imprisoned alone to take the blame of six guilty men, Wukong lashes out at the nearest person.

And what does Macaque do, when blamed one single time for something that is mutually the fault of six men, including himself?

He lies and runs away.

No the fuck you didn’t.

Macaque nudges the idea. He implies the idea. He hints, quietly and softly.

“You’re really going through with this?” Is not him shutting down the idea of fighting the Celestial Realm.

It’s him being a coward and trying to dance around the issue without a direct confrontation.

Not even once does Macaque say: “We shouldn’t fight the Jade Emperor.”

Macaque directly LIES to present himself as being the better person during this fight.

MACAQUE IS FUCKING LYING TO HIS BEST FRIEND’S FACE TO MAKE HIMSELF LOOK BETTER, THEN RUNS AWAY AND NEVER COMES BACK DESPITE HAVING FIVE HUNDRED YEARS TO DO SO.

(But because it’s their ‘pewfect pwecious Maccy’, the fandom blindly ate this blatant dogshit lie up and took it at face value. Y’all don’t deserve unreliable narrators and mature themes go watch cocomelon/s)

The moment something goes wrong, what do these two do?

Blame each other to absolve themselves of sin, and then one runs away and chooses to never come back.

This was fucked up and toxic from the start- Macaque was a cowardly little bitch, and Wukong was a power-hungry idiot.

And both of these dumbasses have ZERO communication skills.

You know who doesn’t fall into those categories? OUR KIDDOS.

Mei and MK fight too- as soon as the first season.

And what does Mei do when her best friend accidentally wrecks her bike and nearly costs her a race that was EXTREMELY important to her?

She forgives him almost the moment he apologizes, and he immediately works on making it up to her.

Well, hold on a minute! That doesn’t sound like, I don’t know…

Lying to make yourself look better, throwing the blame around instead of accepting it, and running away for five entire centuries?

Huh. It’s almost like, maybe, instead of being built on one-sided adoration and tenuous “brotherhood”, Mei and MK see each other as, of all things-!

Equals. Friends. Partners.

Mei will NEVER abandon her best friend. Nothing could make her. Even when facing down lethal odds, her first response will ALWAYS be to run to him.

Even if she has to be forcibly dragged away, screaming and in tears, Mei will always fight to stay by MK’s side.

Nothing in the world could tear them apart. Not a petty fight. Not a presumed death. Not demons or celestials. Not an inky scroll of eternity inscribed with the past.

There is ONE circumstance in which she runs away from him-

When she’s overwhelmed by the Samadhi Fire and terrified of hurting the person she loves most with a

DEMONIC FIRE FUSED TO HER BODY THAT COULD EASILY BE USED TO DESTROY THE ENTIRE PLANET

then, and only then… does Mei run.

That is what it takes to drive her and MK apart. Not an argument. Not a game of flinging blame. Not a mishap or a tumble.

But fear for his life.

She runs away because, even if she wants to stay- Mei loves him.

And she loves him too much to think of putting her own life and desires before his.

Mei and MK are not the “hero and the warrior”.

This is not MK and Mei. And it never will be.

This is Macaque and Wukong, two people driven apart by boldness that was brashness and cleverness that was cowardice. This is a tale of adoration and anger and heartbreak and betrayal.

This is not MK and Mei. And it never will be.

Because they love each other too much to ever be “the hero and the warrior”.

And they’re all the better for it.

[wordsbyrian]

Divine - Kelley O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Request was along the lines of Kelley x Reader where R is like divinely attractive. like the sun always hits her perfectly and everybody is in love with her. maybe she catches her teammates watching edits of her?

A/N: it was a request and then it was on the poll from ages ago and then i told @wosobullshit that i would write it so yeah. ta-da!

No one on the team is really sure how you do it.

It seemed like no matter what was going on around you, you managed to look perfect at all times, at least in your girlfriend’s opinion.

Doesn’t matter if you just finished running the beep test, or played a full 90 in a torrential downpour, or had just rolled out of bed for one reason or another. You always looked like you just stepped out of the pages of a sports magazine, even when you were forced to wear the hideous Portland jerseys.

The thing is, your girlfriend, Kelley, can’t even explain it but she’s more than willing to stand and stare and enjoy the view.

Currently, she and the rest of the team are watching as you help some of the trainers set up the cones for a drill and for some reason it seems as though no matter how you turned, you seemed to catch the light perfectly.

“Christ,” Sonny says, whistling lowly, “the fans might be right about Y/N.”

Kelley’s quick to reach out and swat at her young friend, “Hands off Sonnett.”

“I’m just looking.”

“No looking either!”

Unfortunately for Kelley (and the rest of the team) her voice travels just enough to be heard by the coaching staff, who are quick to rush them onto the field to get practice started.

Throughout practice, you do feel more eyes on you then normal but you brush it off as the training staff wanting to keep an extra close eye on you since you were still bouncing back from an injury. Of course, you noticed Kelley staring but that isn’t really anything new as you catch her staring at all hours of the day.

There’s also the cameras that feel like they're constantly on you. Which is weird to you but you push through and get on with the drills.

That afternoon when everyone has been loaded back onto the bus and you’re on your way back to the hotel, you notice the eyes on you again and you’re also pretty sure you hear someone whispering about the vein popping out on your forehead but you’re too busy arguing with Crystal to care.

“No, Y/N/N, there’s no way that you’re trying to tell me that ‘Hit Em Up’ is a better diss track than ‘No Vaseline,’” Crystal says, “‘No Vaseline’ is the diss track.”

A very important topic of conversation.

You shake your head fiercely before speaking, “Pac started the song by saying and I quote ‘that’s why i fucked your bitch you fat motherfucker’ then ended it by making fun of Prodigy for having Sickle Cell. Cube didn’t say anything that brutal.”

“Cube also didn’t need 3 of his friends to back him up in his beef,” Crys shoots back.

“He was beefing with the dudes that helped make him famous! HE DIDN'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS LEFT TO BACK HIM UP!”

The two of you have been having this argument on and off for weeks. Always over the same two songs and there is no doubt in your mind that your teammates are sick of hearing it. Especially the ones that have to put with you in POrtland and with the national team.

“Helped make him famous?!”

“Yes!”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes!”

The two of you are both leaning across the aisle, glaring at each other at this point, faces so close together that anyone else would’ve found it uncomfortable but the two of you had grown up together and as such were unfazed by it.

Out of the corner of your eye, before you or Crystal could continue, you noticed Kelley and Sonnett sitting in the back row glancing at a phone, then back at you, then back to the phone before giggling.

“I’ll get back to you in a second, Dunny, this isn’t over,” you say before getting up and heading towards your girlfriend.

It's not that hard for her to spot you coming, being in a confined space and all. The whole tall and tattooed thing you have going isn’t really beneficial to sneaking up on people either. BUt your height is currently working in your favor because it means you can easily see the way both Kelley and Emily scramble to hide the phone (and its screen) from your view.

“Hi, baby,” Kelley says when you reach them and drop into the seat across from them.

“Yeah, ‘hi baby’” Sonny mimics, earning an elbow to the gut from her fellow Georgian.

“That’s not suspicious at all,” you mumble under your breath. “Anyway, I was wondering if the two of you troublemakers made any plans for tomorrow or if I’ll actually be able to hang out with my girlfriend at some point this camp.”

“You can have her, Y/N/N, I’ve been trying to get rid of her days,” Emily jokes.

Laughing at the offended look on Kelley’s face, you press a kiss to the side of her head before heading back to argue with Crystal.

The next day, you and Kelley are basically attached at the hip, or more accurately, the hand with the way she’s been dragging you from place to place the entire time.

And now after much convincing (read: whining) from you, you’ve finally got her to agree that a nap is a good use of your afternoon.

There’s only one issue…

“Babe, the key to a successful nap is having your eyes closed.”

“My eyes are closed.”

“They aren’t,” you say.

“How do you know my eyes aren’t closed? You’d have to have your eyes open to tell.”

“I can tell,” you say, still not opening your eyes, “because I can always tell when you’re looking at me. Even in the world’s most crowded room, the feeling of your eyes on me is unlike any other. So close them so I can sleep.”

A soft kiss is placed on the underside of your chin and there’s a bit of shuffling as Kelley tries to get comfortable. You let her squirm for about 30 seconds before you tug her firmly against you.

“Yea that’s enough of that,” you say. “And for love of God, stop staring at me.”

“You say the sweetest things to me when you’re tired.”

“Mhmm, love you too. It’s time to go night-night now.”

“That’s the tone you use with Charlie,” Kelley’s voice is indignant.

“Shhh, it’s time to go night-night.”

There’s some grumbling from the older woman but you ignore her in favor of going to sleep.

When you wake up from your nap, Kelley is nowhere to be found which isn’t very surprising. Luckily you know exactly where to find her or so you thought.

The walk to Sonny and lIndsey’s room is a quick one but you get turned away at the door by LIndsey who tells you that neither Frat Daddy is inside. She tells you that they said something about the social media team but you instantly decide you want nothing to do with that.

So instead you head off to find your best friend.

Marcel.

But to find him you need to find his mother, an easy task especially when all you have to do is follow the music. Which leads you down the hallway to the room where the PTs are set up.

Walking in, you’re not surprised to see Crystal on one of the tables getting a massage, while Lynn plays with Marcel on the ground. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Uncle sitting on the other table getting her hands looked at, but you don’t pay any attention to that. Instead you walk in and pick your little homie up.

“Hey,” Lynn calls out.

“Sorry Lynnie,” you say, “Marcel and I have some very important business to discuss.”

“He’s one!”

“Gracie’s corner is incredibly serious stuff, Williams. Crys, I’ll come find you when he needs a diaper change.”

You hear small chuckles from Lyss and the trainers but you’re mostly focused on the way Crystal grumbles her breath while shoo-ing you out of the room.

As you leave you can just mak e out the voice of one of the trainers saying, "It's like she doesn't even know she's doing it."

Whatever that means.

You spend the next 30 or so minutes wandering around the hotel, alternating between letting the toddler run ahead of you and carrying him while he mushes his fingers against your face, babbling on about whatever 1 year olds like. You make sure to respond when he pauses, wow-ing or asking him simple questions to encourage him to continue.

Eventually, the two of you make your way down to the conference room that’s been converted to a common area for the team.

The amount of heads that immediately turn to face you makes you slightly nervous and the nerves only worsen when you see Kelley and Sonnett once again shoving their phones behind their backs.

Rolling your eyes, you go and ploop yourself and Marcel down next to Charlie, finding the company of the two toddlers more entertaining than that of your teammates. 

Unnoticed by you though, both of the kids' mothers as well as a member of the social media team taking photos of the three of you. There’s also a few unheard comments directed at Kelley that may or may not have something to do with baby fever.

Life at camp continues in the same manner for the next few days with you going about your business while your girlfriend, her goofball friend, and the social media team continue to act strangely.

It all comes to a head one day after training.

The media manages to corner you before you get on the bus and they ask you to react to a few tiktoks that fans have made about you.

It takes you all of 3 seconds before you realize what you’re watching.

“Are all of these thirst edits of me,” you gasp, not removing your gaze from the screen. “This one is captioned: I’d let Y/N Y/L/N tie me. NEVERMIND!”

You manage to get through the next 5 minutes.

You stutter and blush and sweat your way through all 5 but you manage to make it through.

Not all the videos are as sexual as the first one, some feature clips of you with Marcel and Charlie but it still makes you very very uncomfy.

When you get on the bus, you’re greeted by the sight of most of the team grinning at you like maniacs, clearly already knowing what just happened.

“Who’s idea was that,” you ask, still standing up front.

No one speaks, so you groan before beginning to trudge your way to your normal seat across from Crystal.

On your way you notice the way both Kelley and Sonny can’t seem to hold back their giggles, so you pass your normal seat and go and sit with them instead.

“The two of you aren’t nearly as funny as you seem to think you are,” you say, dropping into Kelley’s lap.

“But we really are,” Sonnet laughs while poking you in the back.

“Yea it’s not our fault that the entire internet thinks you’re divine. I’m not going to be the one who argues with them.” Kelley leans up to press a kiss to your cheek but pouts when you lean away then stand up. “I love you,” she tries.

“Love you too.”

[bambihrt]

Hi ! Would you be up for writing some angst to fluff with Adam ? My poor angel deserves some love !

Yes of course! Now this is some very light angst but hopefully you enjoy it, Adam is such an interesting character I hope I’m able to do him some justice haha

- 🤍

Dating the first man to ever exist is no easy task. He’s a popular guy and is usually the center of attention in any situation. However you couldn’t help but feel jealous over those who get to spend a lot of time with him. In particular the angel Lute. Anytime you see your boyfriend when not at each other’s homes or on a date, she’s always with him. The way she looks at him just doesn’t sit right. You can’t help but think there could be something more going on.

It’s not that you don’t trust Adam but it’s only natural to have doubts when your boyfriend is often around another woman. Now envy is a sin, you know that so you’d never voice this opinion out loud. But as time goes on, these feelings start to simmer until they start affecting your relationship.

Adam could tell something was up. He had no clue though what this could be. It’s unlike you to be so quiet when he’s talking to you. He was telling you this story on how Lute and him were chasing down this sinner on the last extermination day.

“You should have seen the look on his face babe! Lute had cornered him into this alleyway and then right when he thought he’d gotten away… BAM I jump out from behind and spear him straight through the fuckin’ middle! And then Lute-“

“Wow sounds like you and Lute are the perfect team.” This comment of yours sounded less enthusiastic and more snarky than he’d hoped for.

“Well yeah I guess but that’s not really the point (y/n), I was trying to tell you how badass I was,” Adam was giving you the perfect opportunity to ignore the tone of what you last said and move on but you couldn’t get out of this headspace.

“Yeah Lute sounds pretty badass too from the countless stories you tell me.”

“Woah babe what’s this about?”

“Just seems to me like Lute’s always on your mind Adam from how you’re always with her and talking about her. Maybe you should date her instead.”

Adam huffed and got up, “yeah yknow what? Fuck this, go take this attitude to someone who could give a shit, I’m just trying to have a nice time and you’re sounding like an insecure bitch right now.”

After that comment Adam stormed out of your room and slammed the door leaving you alone to wallow in self pity. For the next week you didn’t hear from your boyfriend or even see him out. You couldn’t help but think you’ve ruined your relationship with the argument you had. Until you wake up to your doorbell ringing.

Opening your door to Adam standing in front, scratching the back of his neck.

“Look (y/n) I thought you were being completely irrational but then imagined our roles were reversed and I’d be pissed if you were hanging around some guy all day.”

“So what are you trying to say?”

“That I’m sorry. Even though I’ve had two wives, I’m not the best at relationships so next time something’s up just talk to me about it,” after he finished saying this, you stood onto your tippy toes and pulled the mask off your boyfriend’s worried face.

“I’m sorry too Adam, I shouldn’t have taken my worries out on you and just communicated from the start, that wasn’t fair of me,” you gave him a soft smile of which he returned with a hug and pulled you into his arms, making his way to the couch where you two snuggled under a blanket and just held each other while watching your favorite movie.

As you were starting to drift off you thought you’d heard your boyfriend mumble, “I love you (y/n), I’m going to marry you some day so please don’t think I have eyes for anyone else but you.” But who knows maybe you were really sleepy and imagined it. However the twinkle in Adam’s eyes when he watched you close your own seemed to hint at it being true.

[plush-rabbit]

Dating Vox Headcanons

I have opinions again!! It's been forever!!

A/N: its kinda on brand for me to fall for a tv headed demon

It comes to no surprise that Vox is obsessive when it comes to things that interest him. Taking note of you, is both a blessing and a curse. It’s cute- He’s cute. When he attempts to speak to you in the beginning, he’s mauve, not skipping a beat in his attempt to make himself bigger and better than anyone you’ve ever known. However, the moment that you take interest in him- that you actually encourage him to talk more about himself- he might actually short circuit a bit. His screen freezes and he might even flash SMPTE colors on his screen. 

As cute as he can be in the beginning, his obsessiveness also leaves you with no privacy whatsoever. He needs to know what you’re doing. It’s almost more than a need. It’s a want. It’s a desire to check in on you no matter what he’s doing in the meantime. He checks on you constantly, and sometimes it's for the worst. Hearing you laugh with someone that isn’t him, knowing that you’re having a good time when he isn’t around, is enough to have him claw at the table. He won’t confront you about it- at least not in the beginning of the relationship. At some point, you just become aware that he’s there. That as long as there’s some sort of screen- a camera, a television, a watch, anything- he can be there in no time flat. 

He needs you close to him. He doesn’t want to wait a second more without you, so he’ll hire you as his personal assistant. It’s great pay and hours, and the benefits are reserved to you and only you. At first, you’re grateful- you’re in Hell and your partner is someone who holds power, honestly, it could be worse. He gets the benefit of seeing you everyday, practically 24/7, with you at his beck and call. You scurry beside him, take your lunches beside him, he takes up your entire time. The few times that you are allowed to go eat with others in the building, he’s keeping an eye on you. He needs to make sure that he can trust the others around you- that they won’t set you up for failure.

That being said, any relationships that you have outside of him and the other Vees, is monitored. Thanks to technology and addictive personalities, everyone has some sort of device on them at all times. He needs to make sure you aren’t with people who will whisper misguidance into your ear. He needs to make sure that you’re okay. However, the minute someone gets a bit too cozy with you, he’ll make sure to take care of the problem. Whether it's stitching an audio together to make it sound like they’re badmouthing you, or anything of the sort, he’ll do it. He just needs you with him. He can’t risk someone else starting to tell you how suffocating the relationship sounds.

It’s gifts here and there for you! Whatever you want- whatever you’ve even browsed online, he’s sending it your way via express shipping. It’s wonderful at first- you get what you want and all you have to do is tell the television demon how wonderful he is and how much you appreciate him and how you’ll never leave him. It’s sweet at first, you get nice things, but then you have an argument with him, and you realize that his gifts aren’t just that. What he gave you was expensive- would it kill you to just be a little kinder to him? You can’t just smile and admit you’re wrong at least once? Especially after everything he’s done for you?

Whether you’re tolerated by Velvette or Valentino or not, you’re stuck in every meeting that Vox has with them. Lunches, dinners, conferences, attempting to calm Valentino down after a tantrum, overseeing Velvette and her fashion shows- you’re right there, next to Vox. His hand claws over the top of your head, patting you, or raking his claws down your back or over your arm in an attempt to soothe him. The way he sees it, he soothes everyone else, and there’s no one to settle his nerves except for you. You’re an accessory at times- dolled up, perched at his side, and only speaking when you’re given permission to. You’re paraded around the office, following him close at his heels, making sure that where he goes, you follow. You can’t be left alone- what if something were to happen to you? He needs to be close by to make sure that you stay safe.

He hates getting upset at you. It breaks his heart- or whatever he has inside of him- to see you snap at him. You curl your lips, bare your fangs and with tears in your eyes, you tell him how you’re exhausted and how you don’t want to be some accessory to him, how you’re tired of being stuck inside the damn tower. You never listen to his warnings of it being so dangerous outside, and when you do make an attempt to walk away from him, you remember that he’s an Overlord, and you are not. He’s horrific, mean, and much stronger than you are, and he has no trouble putting you in your place if you even make an attempt to leave him. He really does hate yelling at you. You’re terrified of him days after, flinching and tensing when he reaches for you. But you’re just a bit dense and while you’re pretty, there’s not much going on in that head of yours, so you have to understand that he just has to be assertive sometimes. 

After an argument, he doesn’t necessarily say he’s sorry, but he is softer around you for quite some time. His hands caress yours, and he adorns your wrist in jewelry, letting the tips of claws bump over every bridge of charms and rings. His claw traces over your fingertips, and he mumbles sweet things to you. He tells you how pretty you are, and how sweet you are to him. He takes a day off to just spend with you, to make up for everything that happened before. An apology will never be spoken out loud, he could never admit that he went too far, but he would tell you that maybe you two can leave the tower, go someplace nice and see all that he doesn’t let you see alone.

Considering who he is surrounded with consistently, he needs attention that isn’t cruel. He craves your attention. He likes how kind you are to him. In those moments where everything is still, and the lights aren’t so bright, but coloring you both in a golden hue, he likes the quiet when it's with you. It’s interesting to watch him be so apprehensive with his movements. He slowly rests himself on his stomach, the back of his screen facing upwards, as your hand starts to scratch up and down his back. You can feel him shiver, you can feel his breath, the tapping of his claws against you- the stillness that he tries to hold just so you won’t stop. If your phone buzzes, or your attention is taken away, he buries himself further into you, a low hum emitting from him. It’s the few times you see him so mellow.

There are times when Vox can be sweet. When he has the time- usually during a lunch, or one of your breaks- he’s right beside you, listening to you rattle on about this or that, showing him a video on your phone. He’ll nod and laugh, be attentive and ask follow up questions so you know he’s actually paying attention. You’re pressed close to him, his arm over your shoulders, your legs over his, bodies pressed so close together, it’s a wonder you two haven’t melded into one. Even if his screen makes certain things difficult, it doesn’t stop you from seeking him out. Despite how malicious he can be, you return to him, you adore how he talks sweetly to you, how he calls you his one and only, his dear, his sweetheart. 

[totheblood]

even more modern!ellie headcanons

a/n: just a little something... again AI AUDIOS AT THE END... replies and reblogs are appreciated

masterlist

ellie is a homebody, and usually will have to be dragged out by you or dina

honestly she’s never ‘dragged’ out by you, she usually likes to tag along if she knows you’re going somewhere where there will be a lot of people

it’s not that she doesn’t trust you, it’s that she doesn’t trust the people around you

you don’t really mind anyway, you like how she loops her finger in the belt of your jeans and pulls you closer to her when she notices someone staring at you

if the person doesn’t stop she’s not above pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear while making direct eye contact with the person

you giggle, throwing your head back slightly and turning to look at her in the dim light, “what’s gotten into you, ellie?”

“that dick keeps looking at you,” another kiss pressed to your jaw, “don’t like it.”

but she’d much rather stay at home with you, both of you tucked under her comforter with the air conditioner turned down to 64° and whatever show you’re watching at the time on the tv

she hates to admit it, but she loves grey’s anatomy (she swore to you she’d never like it with a scoff and “that show is shit, babe. it’s for like, middle-aged moms with no life.”)

but now as you both have your eyes glued to the screen, she can’t help but scoff every time george is on the screen

“what?”

“he’s just such a fucking loser, this guy.”

“he’s not the worst.”

“he’s pretty fucking bad… why would he sleep with meredith and then make it about him when she starts crying! it’s obvious she’s vulnerable… i just don’t like him.”

ellie gets pretty passionate when watching tv. she’s always sharing her opinions with you, looking at you for validation or arguing when you disagree with her

she’ll always add something like: “you’re lucky you’re cute” or “if you weren’t my girlfriend i’d tear your argument apart” and then kiss you on your nose and go back to watching tv

ellie is an awful cook… like so bad

one time she tried to make a recipe for your anniversary, thinking it would be easy but ended up failing miserably

she’s the type to write out the grocery list and cross shit off as she picks things up… even when she doesn’t know what it means

she didn’t know what trader joe’s was, so when she got there she’d be picking shit up and looking at it with a weird look on her face, “mango… joe joe’s? what the fuck is that?” she’d mutter before putting the box back on the shelf

but eventually she’s getting sucked in, picking up a box of mini ice cream cones, cookie butter, and the rest of the groceries needed for the meal she planned on making for you

you come over and the place is a mess, there is flour all over the counter and floors, pots and pans piled up in the stove, and ellie is stood over a bowl, mixing with a giant wooden spoon

“ellie?”

“shit.. fuck,” she curses, jumping a little bit before turning and smiling at you, her eyes looking you up and down, “you fucking scared me. you’re early.”

“no, i’m not.”

ellie’s eyes glance down at her watch, cursing as she bolts towards the stove a “no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she opens and sees the chicken inside burnt to a crisp. she’s throwing on her mitt and pulling the pan out, sighing as she watches all her hard work go to waste.

“you were trying to cook for me?”

ellie forgot you were there for a moment, her jumping a little at the sound of your voice and wiping the sweat from her forehead as she gives you her best smile, even though it’s strained.

“babe, i’m sorry, i- i don’t know where i went wrong,” she sighs, watching as you walk closer to her and put your hands on the counter behind her trapping her in.

“don’t be sorry” you kiss the side of her lips and smile against her skin, tasting her sweat, “it’s sweet… no one’s ever cooked for me before.”

she’s blushing and leaning into you, your warmth providing her some comfort from her previous stress 

“you look nice,” she whispers below her breath, but you can still feel the puffs of air coming out of her mouth, “you deserve a good meal.”

“i’m not picky,” you whisper back, giggling as ellie’s heart leaps in her chest. she loves you so much it hurts

her hands rest at your hips when she kisses you gently, saying something about missing you that you miss because of how her lips feel against yours

you order takeout that night and eat it as you help her clean up the mess she made

“have you ever been to trader joe’s? that shit was crazy”

ellie is the type of girlfriend to send you two people from a tv show or an edit and be like “babe, this is so us”

or to think it’s so cute when you have matching icons on instagram, tiktok, or twitter

she just wants to show you off all the time

she draws the line at a joint couple account though

she’s always writing things about you, whether it be in her journal, little poems, or songs about you

she’d post a song she wrote you on tiktok with the caption “wrote this song about my lover” and not expect it to blow up

but then she’s receiving a million comments about how sweet it is and how people wish someone would do something like that for them

she doesn’t like the comment “can your gf fight” so she’s responding to all of them like “no, she can’t, but i can and i will! LEAVE MY GF ALONE!!”

but she’d brag about it to you, shoving her phone in your face and saying “look, your girlfriend is fucking famous.”

when you gasp and grab her face congratulating her in between kisses her face grows red and she’s smiling so wide her cheeks hurt

“don’t forget me when you become famous.”

“how could i forget my muse?”

ellie loves listening to music with you and will make you a playlist that she updates with every song she listens to that reminds her of you

she’s incredibly corny in that way

she always wants to listen to the music you suggest to her, wanting to be closer to you in any way she can

even if she doesn’t like it she’s pretending she loves it and playing it constantly, even when you aren’t around

ai audios:

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 61 analysis // spoilers

between monster and doctors, the ones who are fit to survive are the ones who are ready to bare their souls to the world — and sometimes, the one to do so it’s the one we expect the contrary.

at first, when i started to think about this thread, i was about to say “we have a chapter with two extremes: one character who’s ready to speak his mind and the other who’s afraid to do so”. but, as fast as this thought came to mind, it also slipped away because…well..they are not that different from each other, are they?

ujjie is tired. tired of people who do nothing but bring other’s down for their own benefits — and tired of being on the other spectrum of things. after all, what gives the right to some to step on others but act with superiority as soon as they taste their own poison? after a long time of being rejected and having his opinions denied, ujiie starts to speak what is on his mind without worrying about any retaliation — after all, what could harm him when he is someone who has nothing in the eyes of others?

having this power allows him to express himself more and fight for his place in the world, as well as serving as protection. this causes him to block himself from relating to other people who are not seen as equal in his eyes. if they didn't listen to him, why would he listen to them? why do they have this right and he doesn't? (and this becomes much more explicit when he has the argument with mitsumi, someone who is really the opposite of him and who tries to see everyone's heart before anything else.)

however, ujiie doesn't realize that he ended up falling into his own trap: what ends up slipping through his fingers is the opportunity to realize that other people also hide much more than he himself imagines.

then shima enters and the concept of appearance starts to suffer a shock. well, in a world divided between monsters and doctors, who knew a monster could have a soul after all? unlike what ujiie imagined, shima is much more like him than he thinks. after all, both were silenced several times and had their desires denied in different ways. while ujiie suffered from the hypocrisy of those around him, shima was forced to accept a desire that was not even his, but that of everyone else around him. both were created by a doctor, but in different laboratories.

and it's at this moment that the second monster has the chance to show its claws: shima is finally fighting for something he likes and for a role that he admires so much. this gives him the courage to feel like he does have the right to play whoever he wants, because he will do his best to make that possible.

shima is starting to change and come out of the glass dome he had previously been placed in. it is now becoming clearer to him where his desires stand in comparison to someone else's that were forced upon him. he is starting to fill up all the things that were stolen from him and is taking them one by one, with his own hands.

of course, not all change comes with serenity: it is still very difficult for shima to understand who he is taking the reins from. even though he now understands that he needs to make his choices alone, the shadows of all those who helped him begin to creep in. "if i have the right to take what's mine back, who should i take it from? if taking back what's mine would mean hurting those who helped me, would i still have the right to do it?"

it's still very difficult for him to see himself in any position other than the fine line between doctor and monster. he can see parts of himself with his character and his battles, but he also finds himself carried away by the speech of others, making him see a little of the doctor, who denies the monster a free life, in himself. that’s why ujiie’s right in his opinion, but that doesn’t mean he will accept it that easily.

compared to all the chapters focused on shima, this is a big leap towards conquering his identity. it's very beautiful to follow shima's growth and see him abandoning the silence that has always accompanied him. sensei chose to give him a chance to find his own voice in a very gentle way, without generating any other trauma that would put him back in a dark mindset. all of this could have taken another form and shima could very well have been forced to take risks that he had never before thought of taking — but that is not the way she chose to write this story; skip to loafer is written on the basis of love, and there is nothing more tender and painful than the struggle for self-love.

in the end, we had a chapter that wanted to show two very different characters but, in fact, ended up showing how the similarities are found in details that would most likely be ignored or overlooked due to the behavior or the way the characters were developed.

this is a technique that i really like in sensei's writing. it always tends to put into combat two characters who, on the surface, have no similarity at all just to then unravel them and make them connect in the end. i don't think this means that we will see a big change in the relationship between shima and ujiie (but i, personally, would love to see the two being friends or at least colleagues), after all habits are difficult to break, especially after just one event. but i believe this showed us readers new ways of reading them. now we have a more in-depth idea of ​​ujiie and his interpersonal relationships and we have a new shima who prefers to face what eats at him instead of absorbing everything for himself.

i'm very glad sensei chose to write this chapter and not jump straight to the trip. we do need a little more ground to stand on before facing what comes next, because that will take a lot from shima and his new power and confidence he found. he would not be able to face mitsumi if he didn't face himself or people who don't believe in him first — he needs to find his own strength to fight this new battle.

as always, thank you for reading 💛 hope you guys liked the thread and the chapter as well!! remember: if you can, please help sensei by buying the chapters or the volumes. also sorry for any mistakes. thank you thank you!!!!

[probably-writing-x]

I’ll love you in the morning

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Being in a relationship with Rafe meant arguments were a regular occurrence, a day didn’t feel normal without one. But the thing with you and Rafe - you never went to bed angry at each other

Warnings: Cursing, jealous rafe, fluffy as heckkkkk

Author’s Note: Been binge watching OBX for the thousandth time so it only felt right to write about it now :) Please send me any requests you might have, there is a masterlist on my page of everything else I have written for before, but am happy to take requests for anything and I’ll see what I can do x Have a lovely day angels <3

Not my gif

You weren’t sure why he was mad at you, but it seemed to radiate in the space between you. It was obvious in the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes wouldn’t meet yours, the way his jaw clenched when he heard someone mention your name. It was midsummers tonight, and he’d invited you as his date - making you one of the only Pogues here. The two of you had been dating for a little under a year, and your anniversary was coming up in a few weeks. He’d hated you at first, he just knew you as John B’s sister, a Pogue through and through, and that was enough in itself for him to have a bad opinion of you. But, a year ago, you’d both got drunk at one of the parties on the beach, and he’d argued with you over which can of beer was his, and then you’d woken up the following morning next to him on the beach. Though, when you’d gone to leave, he’d asked you to stay. And that seemed to be the basis of the start of your relationship - Rafe asking you to stay. And you’d agreed.

“Hey (Y/N),” It’s Sarah that walks over to you, looking seemingly fed up of the Kook atmosphere already.

“Hey,” You try to smile back, pulling your eyes away from Rafe.

“Everything okay?” She frowns, standing beside you at the bar.

“Your brother,” You roll your eyes, resting your chin on your hands in front of you.

“When isn’t he the problem?” She laughs, “What’s he done this time?”

“I don’t think he’s done anything, I think he’s mad at me but I don’t know what I’ve done,” You shake your head, “He won’t even look at me.”

Before you can say anything else, JJ and Kie come over to the two of you, JJ dressed in his full server outfit - convincing everyone but you guys that he might actually work here. You’d been friends with JJ since he’d met John B and you spent basically all of your life with him.

“Please tell me this will be over soon,” Kie groans, shifting the material of her silk dress over her torso, “I hate this.”

You were wearing a dark green dress that Rafe had picked out of the three options you found in Sarah’s closet of unworn clothes. It hugged your figure and sat perfectly around your chest, flowing down in silk over your shoes.

“I don’t recognise you when you look like this (Y/N),” JJ points out, taking your drink and finishing the rest of it, “Very… kook.”

You roll your eyes and hit at his chest, “Grow up JJ, I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve seen you in proper clothes ever.”

He grabs your hand when you push him and pulls you in as if he’s about to twist your arm. But an all too familiar voice cuts between you.

“Hey, waiter,” Rafe shouts, “My drink’s looking close to empty, get me another.”

JJ drops your arm and looks at Rafe with a clenched jaw, “Get it yourself.”

“I don’t think you want to talk like that to me here,” Rafe lets out a laugh, the kind that comes from deep in his chest, “These are my people, not yours.”

“Rafe stop it,” You sigh, trying to step between him and JJ before this escalates further.

“So why don’t you get the fuck out of here, and leave my people, and my girlfriend, alone?” Rafe’s words are cold, calculated, separate from so much of what you knew of your boyfriend.

You push JJ back and stand between the two of them, turning your body to look directly at Rafe, but his eyeline falls above you and looks over at JJ still, “Rafe, leave it out.”

He doesn’t look at you, walking away with that tension in his shoulders that didn’t seem to leave.

“For fuck’s sake,” You mutter under your breath, “I’m sorry JJ.”

He laughs, dragging a hand through his hair, “Come on (Y/N) we all know you’re the only Pogue he doesn’t hate, that’s not going to change.”

You take a deep breath and look towards the direction that Rafe had just stormed out to, “I’ve got to go, I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Let us know if you need anything (Y/N),” Sarah calls out from behind you, the only one of any of them that was somewhat close to being able to understand Rafe.

~~~

You know he’s back at the house, and you’re thankful he’s thought enough to not lock the door behind him. It’s dark in the mansion and it’s eerie when you’re alone like this. You follow the steps upstairs towards his room, relieved when you catch the sight of the light on.

“Rafe?”

“Get out (Y/N), go back to the party,” His voice is cold, harsh.

“Rafe what the fuck have I done?”

“Nothing, just go back.”

He still won’t look at you.

“Nothing? You won’t talk to me, won’t touch me, won’t look at me, you haven’t since we got to that fucking party. You asked me to go and then spend the whole night ignoring me? What the fuck is this?” You’re raising your voice without thinking about it, the anger fuelling the fire in your veins.

“Just leave it (Y/N), I’m fine,” He tugs off the tie from around his neck, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“So that’s what this is now? We don’t even fight it out?” You scoff, “I’m not doing this with you Rafe. I’m not having you make me feel like shit all night, ignore me completely, embarrass me in front of my friends, and then tell me you’ll ‘talk to me later’.”

You try to stop your lips from wobbling, stop your hands from trembling, stop your burning desire to fall into his arms.

“(Y/N), don’t act like you don’t see how people look at you,” He shakes his head.

“No, fuck you, Rafe,” You shake your head, letting the tears bubble in your eyes, “You want to talk about people looking at me? Maybe people were looking at me because you were ignoring me all night!”

“You fucking love it, it’s like all eyes on you, and you don’t do anything to stop it!”

“Are you kidding me? Are you taking the fucking piss Rafe?” You’re fully yelling now, “Who do you think you are? No, who do you think I am?”

He’s quiet.

“I’m not dealing with this,” There are tears spilling over your cheeks now, staining them with the running of your mascara, “If you think I love other people looking at me so much, maybe I should go to one of them, because they certainly wouldn’t spend an entire night ignoring me.”

“(Y/N)!” He calls, watching as you turn on your heel to walk back out of the house.

As you’re just reaching the front door, his scream rips through the house, enough to make you flinch. Your heart is forcing you to go back, but you defy it, closing the front door behind you and walking back out into the dark.

~~~

You’re not sure how long you’ve been down by the beach, listening to the repetitions of waves over the sand, the hum of Midsummers still going on behind you, the silence that always remains after a fight.

In all of the arguments you’d had, it never ended with you storming out. You’d argue, and yell, and disagree, until eventually you didn’t. You would meet in the middle, admitting when you were wrong, and explaining when you knew you were right. But it worked both ways and, that was the thing, it always worked. You’d be mad at each other until he told you he loved you and you told him you’d love him tomorrow, he’d laugh and know that you meant it, that you’d always forgive him.

Today felt different. Rafe felt like he was arguing with himself whilst he was arguing with you, and you weren’t going to listen to him accuse you of things he knew you’d never do.

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around yourself as the chill starts to pick up a little over the beach, sending a shiver through your skin.

That’s when you hear him, stumbling steps over the sand until eventually they stop beside you.

“Can I sit?”

You take a deep breath and nod, still looking out over the water to avoid falling into the gaze of his eyes. Rafe takes a seat in the space beside you, so close that his arm brushes yours. Without a second thought, he pulls the suit jacket from around him and wraps it over your shoulders, his hands lingering there for a moment. You instinctively pull the material around you, breathing in the scent of his his aftershave that clung to the lapels.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” He sighs, and you’re sure you can hear a tremble in his voice, “I didn’t mean what I said back there. I’m not saying I didn’t think it, but I shouldn’t have said it the way I did.”

“Why did you think that though, Rafe?” You shake your head, still not looking at him directly.

“It’s not because of you. It’s everyone else. I see the way they look at you, it’s like as soon as you’re there, they all look at you like prey,” He clenches his jaw, “And I hate it, and then I see them and I think why isn’t it them that you’re with.”

“Is that why you started on JJ?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I know,” He nods, “I’ll apologise to him.”

You can’t help but laugh, “No you won’t.”

He laughs too, and for a moment that’s all there is.

“I don’t want to lose this (Y/N), but the more I think of that, the more I convince myself that I am going to lose it, and that terrifies me,” He drags a hand through his hair, “I get if you’re still mad at me, I’ll walk you home if you don’t want to stay.”

You take in a deep breath and exhale, moving your head to rest on his shoulder, “The problem is, Rafe, I’m the only one that can put up with you.”

As if he is worried you’ll slip away, he wraps an arm around your waist and grips you tightly, his head turning to breath in the scent of your hair, “I love you, (Y/N).”

You hum in response, nuzzling your head into his neck more, “I’ll love you in the morning.”

He kisses the top of your hair, once, twice, three times, letting his lips linger on the third, “Do you want to go back to mine?”

“No.”

You can feel the panic coarse through him, like he’s worried this time is still different than the rest, that he’d be going to bed alone thinking of everything he shouldn’t have said.

“I want to stay here,” You mumble, snuggling into the warmth he seemed to radiate, reaching your arms around him.

Rafe laughs and it rumbles through his chest against you, pulling you as close to him as he can get you to be.

~~~

The following morning, you wake up to the sun. Rafe’s jacket is still draped over you, your head resting on the rise and fall of his chest. Your legs are tangled in his, and his arms are gripping you tighter than ever, his eyes still shut.

You reach up and press a kiss to his jaw, the closest to his lips that you can reach from this angle. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, so innocent compared to what everyone else thought they knew of Rafe - because nobody else got to see him like this, like you did.

He hums against your touch, his body waking up before his eyes have the strength to open. When he can just about muster the strength, he pokes one eye open to look at you, stretching one arm away from you and tucking it under his head, “Do you love me now?”

You laugh, kissing his jaw three more times, “I do.”

[romanestuffsposts]

Hi! I like your stucky x little stories. And I was wondering If I can make a request?

Maybe the reader got into trouble and the and bucky and Steve are extra mad at her and punish her. And when they come check in her, she avoids them for a long time, even if they aren’t mad anymore.

I like these sorts of stories of yours, but I feel like they get off to easy (in my opinion). So, maybe some extra angst for them cause I’m not the kind of kilter that forgive easily.

Hi there love! 💜

Yes I know some of you don’t like when it’s too much while others want to see more so don’t hesitate to ask! I’m here to write what you wanna see! ❤️

I hope you like how I wrote it, sweetie! <3

Enjoy <33

****

Warnings : snapping, argument, yelling, cries, punishment, apologise, making up, comfort, mad, pet name

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : you just wanted to relax after a day inside

****

You just got out of work, it’s the end of the day and you’re surprisely still in a good mood. You were inside a little room the entire day and feel like you hadn’t seen the world today so you decide to walk through the parc on your way home.

It’ll take you more time to go home but at least you would’ve clear your mind in the nature.

You hadn’t saw the time passing as you sat on a bench to watch little ducks on the water in front of you. It’s been already two hours that you finished your work and you hadn’t said anything to anyone as to where you were.

You decide to cut your walk short and go back home, you have the rest of the week home so you’ll have lots of time to come to the parc.

Not too long after leaving the parc, you open the door and step inside of your house. You thought you’ll be greeted by the smell of food or at least your men but none of those are home apparently. You don’t see their shoes inside nor their coat so you assume they’re still at work or something.

You decide to go relax in a warm bath, you put in your favorite soap and don’t lose a time before stepping inside. You groan at the hot water that’s warming up your cold body.

You enjoy your bath for a long and when you get out, your Daddies still aren’t home. You decide to call Sam to ask if they’re almost finish with work and when this one answer the phone after the first ring, you hear relief in his voice

‘’You’re home ? Please tell me you’re home little bird ?’’ He asks. You frown and explain that it’s been an hour now that you’re home and you wanted to know if their work will take them times or if you could prepare dinner.

You don’t really understand what happened after, you just know that Sam screams at someone that you were home and then there were nobody behind the call anymore.

A few minutes later you hear the door opening violently and loud and quick steps on the ground. You watch as your Daddies run toward you and it doesn’t take long for them to wrap their arms around you and hold you tight against them.

Their heartbeats were really fast and they felt out of breath, what happened ?

Before you could even ask questions, your Daddy pulls back, keep an hold on your shoulders with his hands and stare down at you with many emotions in his eyes that you don’t understand

‘’Where the hell were you ?’’ His voice is harsh and it made you flinch, you didn’t noticed they were mad at you ‘’do you know what a phone is used for ?? It’s for when you’re going to be late at home. You text, call or send an email, I don’t fucking care but you tell us that you’ll be late’’ he practically yells now.

‘’You know how worry we were ?’’ Your Papa adds ‘’it’s been hours that we’re looking for you outside. We disturbed the entire city just because you can’t using your goddamn phone!’’

You open your mouth to talk but nothing comes out, you know what you want to say. You didn’t wanted to worry them, you just needed to be outside a little and got lost in time. You wanted to apologies because you know you’re in the wrong here but it’s like the words are stuck in your throat.

‘’Next time think less about yourself and text us so we don’t worry’’ your Daddy snaps making you tear up.

Were you selfish ?

You really did worry them but that was an accident. You didn’t mean to.

‘’Go to your room’’ your Daddy says, his voice is calm now but he sounds really disappointed and it made things worst.

‘’But Daddy I-‘’ he cuts you off with a harsh movement to melt you stop walking to him ‘’I said go to your room. Do you understand or do we have to explain how to go upstairs in silence like we have to taught you respect ?’’ He snaps again this time.

You swallow your pain and go upstairs, they watch you until you close your door.

You look around your room and shiver in fear, it’s been a few nights now that you don’t sleep here because one night you had a nightmare and you are scared to be in this room alone.

And he knew that but he still sent you here.

You had spent the evening and the night in your room. They brought you dinner but they didn’t even glance at you or dried your tears. They just give you your food, your water and they came to get it back.

Not even a good night kiss or a glance of reassurance. You had to fall asleep with the only comfort of the memories of the little bird singing in the parc earlier.

The next morning you woke up with a note on your nightstand, they had to go to work but they wrote that the punishment was over and that you did good. They said they loved you and that they’ll be back later.

Seeing this writing instead of hearing it from their mouths feel fake. It feels like they didn’t meant it. You throw away the paper and walk downstairs, a second note in the kitchen tells you that they left your favorite breakfast for you in the fridge. They tell you a second time that they loved you before signing.

You don’t touch the breakfast, you take a glass of water and go in the couch. You spent your whole day laying in the couch and thinking about yesterday. To make it short, you had a bad day.

You wanted to go outside but since how it ended up yesterday you decide to not take the risk.

After a few hours you hear the front door opening and closing. Before you can see them entering fully in the house you get up from the couch and run upstairs.

You know it’s your Daddies but you don’t wanna see them just yet. You need to show them that you’re still mad.

What hurt you the most is not the fact that they yelled at you, you understood that they were scared and worried and from all of their emotions mixed up together they ended up yelling but you knew they were more relieved than angry.

But what if something really happened to you ? What if you were lost or what if you were held something against your will ? What you needed wasn’t hearing scream, what you needed was comfort if that happened. They didn’t even asked.. that’s what hurt you the most.

You close the door shut and sit on your desk to keep drawing your draw. After some minutes you hear a knock on your door. You don’t answer which cause you to hear a second one ‘’sweetie ?’’

‘’No’’ you say loud enough for them to hear. You don’t hear anything after so you thought they left but after some second of silence they knock again ‘’please baby, can we talk ?’’

‘’no’’ you say again, going back to your drawing. You hear muffled talk and then nothing. You sigh in relief that they respect you by letting you alone like you asked.

You almost finish your drawing when it’s dinner time and you at the same time, you hear knock again ‘’sweetie ?’’ Your Papa gently says

‘’We- dinner is ready’’ he waits for a second to see if you’re gonna say something but when it’s silence, he talks again ‘’we made your favorite food’’

After minutes of nothing, he was going to leave even tho he doesn’t like the fact that you don’t wanna eat but he hears and sees the door of your room opening.

You don’t look at him nor speak to him, you walk past him and down the hallway. You make your way downstairs, followed by your Papa. Your Daddy is waiting on his seat and his eyes light up when he sees you, he thought you wouldn’t got out of your room but apparently you’re too hungry for that.

You do the same to him that you did to your Papa, you don’t give him attention. You grab your plate, put food in it and then go back upstairs to your room.

You know your Daddies don’t like it when you eat upstairs but today you don’t care. You thought they would’ve said something to you about it but you hear nothing.

After eating you lie in bed and close your eyes.

~

Gentle touch are felt on your scalp causing you to coming back to reality. It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes.

You turn around and see your Daddies sitting on your bed. You turn back around as soon as you see them and get up from bed quickly.

You hear your Daddies standing up too as you approach the door ‘’wait please’’ the sad voice of your Daddy make you stop. You’re facing the door but you stopped walking.

‘’We’re sorry about yesterday’’ he says ‘’we were worried sick from the second we saw you weren’t at home and when we couldn’t find you we-‘’ he takes a shaky breath ‘’I thought my heart was ripping apart’’

You look down but keep your eyes wide open as you listen to them talking. "we shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday but we didn't thought about our reaction, we just let all out and i think we wanted you to understand how we felt."

"but it was in a bad way" your Papa adds after your Daddy "we should've said it in another way. We're sorry we went too far and yelled like that, we're really really sorry"

Nobody talk for some seconds but then you start to turn around, with tears in your eyes. They stand up and go to comfort you but stop because they don't know if they can come to you or not

"can we... can we hug you ?" your Daddy asks with an hesitant voice "please" your Papa adds.

You stroke your eyes causing the tears to fall and lift your arms up, nodding your head.

The next second, you feel two pairs of arms wrapping around you and you feel nothing else but the warmth of their bodies and the comfort they send to you.

"what were you doing before coming back home yesterday ?" Your Daddy asks as he stokes your hair.

"Parc. Watching bird" your mumble, as you snuggle closer into them.

"you want to go back to the parc tonight ? We can grab some bread to give to birds and ducks if we saw them" Your Papa proposes.

You sniff and nod your head, you wanted to go back there all day and maybe going back with them can be as relaxing a than going alone.

"Alright, let's get prepared then" Your Papa kisses your forehead and helps you standing up "we can even go take a breakfast outside, what do you say ?"

You nod your head and take their hands in yours to lead them toward your closet to get prepared. It'll be a great day, you're sure about that fact.

[mikedfaist]

Boobs or butt w Mike Faist characters, which do they prefer?

Let’s start with the big 3…

Riff: Riff vowed he never had a preference, until he met you. Something about your boobs just sends him into overdrive, and he’s clawing his way up the bed to get to you. If the two of you are just cuddling, you best believe he has one hand up your shirt, holding firmly to a single breast like a child with a stuffed animal. It’s not even sexual to him at that point. If you two are in mid-argument, and you take your shirt off, he instantly retreats in surrender. “Okay, that’s not fair.” Argument completely forgotten.

Art: Alexis, will you play Dance (A$$) by Big Sean? THIS BOY… this boy loves a good ass. His favorite position is reverse cowgirl for a reason. He has the best view in the house. A close second is doggy. He’s the kind of boyfriend who will slap your ass in public without much shame, or shove his hand into the back pocket of your jeans when you’re walking around campus. One rule in is dorm is you can’t wear pants… he doesn’t make the rules.

Dodge: Controversial opinion, but Dodge loves both, and how dare someone ever favorite one over the other! When you’re making out, and his mouth is enclosed over your breast, you best believe he has a hand grabbing at your ass. He loves to fuck you in front of a mirror because he simultaneously gets to watch himself fuck your ass, but also watch your boobs in the reflection. That to him is his personal heaven.

Okay, now for some of his “deep cuts” as he puts it…

Gordie: Honestly, Gordie has no preference. He’s just happy to be there, which does have its faults. He sometimes doesn’t know where to put his attention, or his hands. He wants to caress your boobs, but he also wants to grope your ass. He tries to do both with just one hand, but it doesn’t get the full effect he desires. He can’t have his attention solely on one, because he feels he’s missing out on the other. If he can’t give you his full, devoted attention, then what’s the point?

Arthur: He’s an ass guy, in the sense he loves his ass touched. When you’re making out, he loses it when you reach down to grab his ass. When you’re making out on the beach, rolling around in the sand, and you reach down to grab his ass to push him farther into you, he’s done for. When you’re walking around and you jokingly slap his butt, you’re the only one laughing. He’s definitely divided if he wants to be pegged…but that’s a conversation for a different time!