#while i need to defend my existence and feel if I talk about anything else I'll be invalidated

[mixmangosmangoverse]

If you ever needed to know the extent of how the I/P conflict is fandomized, there is a popular post going around with a Sailor moon sticker saying Free Palestine and all the comments are talking about how it's their aesthetic and they totally need to buy it

Because this doesn't matter to them, it's just the cool hip and trendy thing

[fellthemarvelous]

Deny. Defend. Depose.

It is clear to those of us that live in America, the only people we truly have on our side are ourselves. The ruling class has made it clear we don't matter to them.

Luigi Mangione was arrested and happened to have every single piece of evidence on him that law enforcement was looking for, including the parts for the ghost gun, inside his backpack (that he also got rid of in Central Park containing the Monopoly money???). Either he was trying to get caught or that evidence was planted. And when he was being forcefully pushed into the jail, he hollered back to the press about "injustice" and "being an insult to the intelligence of American citizens and our lived experiences."

The people have now turned against corporate America and the CEOs and billionaires are fucking terrified. Nothing the news stations are saying to us are changing our minds. The American people have finally united over this issue and there is no going back for us. Whoever did kill Brian Thompson (and theories abound on the game The Adjuster is playing because no one plays Monopoly alone) exposed the very real divide that exists between every day citizens and the extremely wealthy. Things were easier for them to control when they were able to divide us, but now that we are aware of how uncertain our future is in America and seeing just how little we matter to the people who take our money, we have realized that we have more in common with each other than the people who control every aspect of our lives. We are waking up.

There isn't one person in this country who hasn't been a victim to the predatory scam that is private health insurance. Medical debt is the leading cause of bankruptcy in America, and many of us are one ambulance ride or hospital stay away from homelessness. We all know people who have died because the insurance company denied them the treatment they needed or waited until it was too late for an approval of a medical claim to matter anymore.

Recently, I decided to be tested for autism and ADHD. Not life-threatening or anything, but my life is still in shambles and I want to know if I'm going untreated for something else. Before being tested though, I was informed that the insurance company (Aetna) has said that they were going to cover the full cost of the testing I was having (which was six hours of testing by the way). She even made sure several times that they were, in fact, going to cover it in full and they said yes.

The same day that Brian Thompson, CEO of another horrible healthcare company, was murdered in broad daylight, I received a call from that doctor's office with the woman telling me that Aetna was now telling her they never agreed to cover my testing and that they are going to bill me for $1600 (where the hell am I supposed to get that?) and she is fighting them, but considering our lives don't matter to the people who tell us what healthcare we are and are not allowed to receive, I don't think they will feel compelled to change their minds because they are bloodsucking parasites who only care about lining their pockets while I don't even have $6 lying around, let alone $1600!!

Corporate America leeches off our taxes. They take and take and take and we see nothing in return. They raise prices on insurance coverage and then deny us the very coverage that we pay for. They poison our food, price gouge our poisoned food, and then force us to pay for the treatment we get when the food makes us sick. Corporate America profits off of our hard work, our taxes, our health, our lives, our deaths.

I don't know if this will reach a larger audience or not, but I wanted to talk about it on Tumblr because this platform seems to be a crossroads for every type of creative soul. I initially brought up this idea on TikTok earlier, but I want to see if it can get traction in other places as well since I have fewer than 3,000 followers on TikTok (and I have seen a small few express interest in my idea in the hours since I posted the video.)

We're busy being lectured by politicians and the news media because while they are clutching their pearls at what happened to Brian Thompson, the rest of us do not give one single flying fuck about what happened to him. As CEO of a for-profit health insurance company, he signed off on denied claims and death for those of us who struggle to make it from one day to the next. The sicker you are, the poorer you are, the more they force you to struggle and pay. The love to deny coverage because regardless of whether we live or die, they already have the money we are forced to pay them.

I don't condone murder at all, but I also don't care that he was murdered because he was guilty of murdering so many more people in this country through legal means because it's profitable. The CEOs are scared and there are wanted posters with their names and faces popping up in places. Every CEO of every healthcare company is guilty of murdering Americans and they continue to go unpunished for it because "it's just business".

So (if you've read this far) all of this previous rambling is to say that I keep thinking about how I want to make an impression. I want to continue upsetting the billionaires and the CEOs because corporate America is full of murderers who are legally allowed to decide whether we live or die based on which outcome will give them more money.

I have thought about the idea of creating a wall/constructing a wall somewhere as an art piece or something (making a statement) that will somehow honor the memory of people who died because insurance denied them care.

I know I definitely want it to say something along the lines of "In memory of those murdered by for-profit healthcare systems in corporate America". Something blatant. Loud. Something they are forced to look at every single day. Somehow. The wall could have images of those who are gone, or names of the person who died with the name of the insurance company responsible for their death underneath. Just something to make it clear that we see them for what they are. Something to avenge those who were sacrificed so billionaires and CEOS and shareholders could brag about record profits. Something that shows the whole world that American citizens are waking up to who the real monsters are.

The Adjuster (whoever he is or is not) has fanned the flames of revolution in America. He managed to unite us in a way I can't even recall before. It's not over. We know what happened to Brian Thompson was just the beginning, and corporate America only just now realized how much we actually hate them. A single shooter has sparked an awakening in America that is starting to snowball into something much bigger.

So if there is anyone out there who might be interested in collaborating on something like this, please let me know. I know we are all tired and demoralized and we have no money. I want to make a statement though, and I love doing that through art or writing. Collaborating with other people who have been through this same shit will also probably help us unite even more.

This is a watershed moment in American history.

In the words of Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight,

"There is a future for us. One where we're all free. But it's up to us to make it happen."

[allpiesforourown]

Okay here's my Lan Qiren apologist masterpost

"He had Lan Wangji whipped! He's an abuser!"

That was Lan Wangji's punishment for injuring 33 Lan elders while defending a demonic cultivator who caused innumerable deaths in the cultivation community. You need to remember the setting of this story: Madame Yu whipped Wei Ying half to death just because she went "you didn't do anything wrong, your general existence is just mildly annoying to me." Lan Qiren deciding Lan Wangji get one lash for every person he hurt is NOTHING in comparison to the punishment he would have gotten if anyone else was in charge and it was the only way to clear his name.

2. "The Lan sect rules he enforces are too strict."

First of all, Lan Qiren is an old Asian person. I feel like that would be enough to make my point, but I will continue regardless.

The Lans have so many rules because they have extreme self-regulation issues when it comes to their emotions. We've seen Lan Wangji's dad ruin his life by trying to atticwife his lover, but Lan Wangji wasn't any better. If you've read the incense burner extra you know he got his first crush at 15 and his brain immediately went to fantasizing about violently assaulting Wei Ying in the library. Their hundreds of rules are stifling because they're supposed to be. If the Lans don't try to contain themselves they will ruin their lives and the lives of people they care about.

Is "don't talk while you're eating" even that extreme of a household rule? Like every family has some variation of "don't do ____ at the dinner table" and the Lans having their own version is not that insane.

3. "He was against Lan Wangji loving Wei Wuxian."

I need you to spend like. 2 minutes putting yourself in Lan Qiren's shoes.

Imagine you are Lan Qiren. Imagine you find out your brother broke his family apart by forcing his wife to stay with him. Lan Qiren was just a man who was thrust into not only taking care of the Lan clan, one of the biggest cultivation sects you can think of, but also his two traumatized nephews. Imagine cleaning up the mess your brother left you while having to raise two children that aren't yours.

Then you see your nephew, who you have raised like your own son, helplessly pining after the infamous demonic cultivator who has rejected him and teased him. You watch him turn against and injure his own family members to protect a literal criminal.

Then he comes home holding the child of the man he loves and you let him keep that baby and raise him. Because you see yourself in him. You see someone who just lost a loved one who was not a good person but someone you loved regardless. How many times do you think he saw Lan Wangji raising Lan Yuan and remembered himself raising someone else's children because their father was no longer there?

And then after all that Lan Qiren had been through, he didn't even try to keep Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian apart once he found out the truth. When Wei Ying explained how he'd been set up, he was one of the first elders in the cultivation community to give him a chance to explain himself. And after that even if he was cold to Wei Ying, he didn't say shit about the two of them having nasty loud gay sex in gusu every night.

I don't care. Lan Qiren hate will always be forced to me, he did literally nothing wrong and if I was in his shoes I would not have been able to handle it

[itsabouttimex2]

For fun how about rating Wukong ship from lmk and give your opinion why?

SWK Ship Ratings

(Scores rank from -10 at the lowest, and 10 at the highest)

Shadowpeach

Name Rating: 5/10. Basic, but rolls off the tongue. Started the trend of Sun Wukong having extremely basic ship names- more on that below.

Canon Rating: 0/10. Whatever they had in the past, Macaque simply treats Wukong far too awfully to really justify the two of them ever getting together. Even the attempts at reconciliation feel more like extremely forced ship baiting, given how it goes from one of the two being marginally kinder to the other than usual, then immediately dropping it for more sniping. (Past!Shadowpeach receives 5/10.)

Fanon Rating: -10/10. I’ve spoken at length about this, but fans love to distort Wukong into a drooling abuser so stupid he can’t breath through his nose, usually while turning Macaque into a Possession Sue who only serves to be the author’s simpering self-insert who is the most perfect little baby of all time who has never ever done anything wrong at all even once. If there is an attempt to be “nuanced” or “unbiased” it manifest as “Sun Wukong “killed” (re: defended himself against) Macaque so he’s worse.” It’s an awful, extremely pervasive dynamic that rots any fandom enjoyment I could have had for this couple.

Personal Enjoyment: 6/10. Getting to write Macaque as the legitimately awful person that he is takes off the edge of seeing constant “uwu sadboi” Macaque content. Still, I rarely touch anyone else’s Shadowpeach content because of this.

Peachlotus

Name Rating: 2/10. As you’ll see, most ship names involving Sun Wukong are, uh… extremely lazy. Just one of the other character’s traits with “peach” slapped before/after it. Fandom really dropped the ball with most of these. This one is especially clunky, at least on my tongue.

(See, Macaque gets stuff like Lunartides, Inkypages, Shadowpeach, etc- all very cool.. We need to diversify the nouns is what I’m saying. Coulda been something like “GingerRoot” cause orange fur + plant boy. “FlowerBuds” for the platonic name for peaches + lotuses. Do you guys see what I’m saying. It can’t just be raw peaches all the way down.)

Canon Rating: 2/10. Ne Zha also doesn’t treat Wukong too kindly, interacting with him mostly through insults and physical attacks. He does seem to have some understanding of the king, though, which gives him a slight boost over Macaque.

Fanon Rating: 1/10. It barely exists, and what little does exist is essentially just “Ne Zha is mad at Wukong over what the fuck ever, so they’re fighting” and little more. There’s a lot of potential for bonding over immortality and awful pasts or being commandeered by domineering authority figures, which I wish was used more often.

Personal Enjoyment: 2/10. I don’t see the dynamic, personally. Again, Ne Zha’s only interactions with him are only ever vitriolic or exasperated in nature, which doesn’t leave stable footing for a relationship to stand. Maybe I’ll make a chatbot for them one day and see if I come around to it.

“Freepeaches”

Name Rating: -5/10. This shit is exactly what I’m talking about with the lazily slapping “peach” onto whatever and going on. “Free” has no meaning between Wukong and Tang- it’s just a holdover from a more popular ship. Tang only mooches food from Pigsy. That’s one of the biggest elements of their dynamic. Sure, Tang likes free stuff (food, rides, physical labor), but when does he ever get that from Wukong? It just makes no sense.

AND IF IT HAD TO HAVE THE FRUIT, TANGYPEACHES WAS RIGHT THERE

Canon Rating: 6/10. Tang literally drew himself and the Monkey King together inside a heart. He adores Wukong, thought maybe not for who he truly is- and the two don’t any interaction in terms of Tang realizing his autistic parasocial special interest idol is a lonely old sage who misses his friends, which cripples what was a pretty cute dynamic. I think Tang coming down from his hero worship and being just a genuine friend to SWK would be cute, definitely.

Fanon Rating: 9/10. Pretty enjoyable! Freepeaches is one of the few dynamics where Sun Wukong isn’t constantly turned into a punching bag/villain to be beaten around for the amusement of the audience, and the two are often portrayed as legitimately healthy together- I especially enjoy how Tang is portrayed as needing to move past his hero worship for the two to have a healthy relationship. It’s cute.

Personal Enjoyment: 6/10. Never addressing the resemblance to Sanzang or having them interact in regards to this while the circlet is back on Wukong’s head feels like a massively missed opportunity, honestly. I think Sun Wukong’s personal feelings have been left to the wayside for far too long in canon, and getting to a point where almost every fucking character represses their feelings is lazy and boring.

Peachbuns

Name Rating: 4/10. Again. Just “peach” slapped onto an adjective or noun. It’s frustratingly boring. This one sounds delicious and both components are related to food at least, which fits Pigsy’s background… but it also sounds like something a horny dude would ask for pics of in your DMs.

Canon Rating: 1/10. Pigsy isn’t willing to take any of Wukong’s shit, so he serves as a pretty great “bullshit barrier” that provides a legitimately strict opposing force to Wukong, but there’s little else to even their relationship out. He’s never kind or supportive or worried- if the two interact, it’s always through the lens of “Pigsy is mad/suspicious”. There’s never any real bonding or growth between them at all.

Fanon Rating: 4/10. This ship barely exists, and when it does it’s Sun Wukong being lectured through life by a big strong man- not a dynamic I’m a fan of. However, it is surprisingly kind to Wukong in terms of empathizing with his struggles. Again, I wish there was less of “Pigsy teaches Wukong basic life skills” because it falls right back into the revolting fanon that is “SWK is a big dumb fuck who can’t read or cook or take care of himself without a husband to wipe his ass.”

Personal Enjoyment: 2/10. I just don’t click with it. Pigsy doesn’t like Wukong, doesn’t trust him, and doesn’t interact with him outside of that.

Moonstone

Name Rating: 10/10. This is what I like! Moonstone is not only a very real (and very beautiful) mineral, but it ties to both of them equally! You don’t see Wukong’s status as a stone-born demon be referenced often, so this is a refreshing change of pace from the constant “peach” names.

Canon Rating: 7/10. Chang’e is a lovely woman who is simultaneously not be willing put up with Sun Wukong’s bullshit while still legitimately respecting and admiring him. It makes for a nice duality in their relationship that most of his dynamics don’t provide.

Fanon Rating: 10/10. The working dynamic is so fucking good to start with that I’ve never once seen fanon drop the ball. Never. This ship is always so fucking sweet and honest with Chang’e calling out Wukong for his bullshit while never pushing it to the “Shit on Sun Wukong Show” levels that the fandom loves so much- she takes no shit, but does no harm. She’s supportive and acknowledges his traumas and fears. Wukong does his best for her. Moonstone shippers get an A+ and extra recess time.

Personal Enjoyment: 7/10. I just… I really like this one, dammit. There’s not a lot to go off of, but seeing fanworks that do not primarily treat SWK like living trash/baby the hell out of him is nice.

Lionpeach

Name Rating: 3/10. Again. Very boring and generic. I’ve seen Fuzzypeach which is a little cuter, at least. Still, it’s all the same “peach”+noun format.

Canon Rating: 3/10. The devotion Azure bears to Sun Wukong seems like it would bear a higher marking, but it’s shallow and flimsy. Azure never understood Wukong, never wanted what was best for him, never cared about his safety or happiness. Azure projects his beliefs and wants onto the people around him, blinding the big fella to shortcomings on their parts, and is delusional enough to never look inwards. Still, I can legitimately see

Fanon Rating: 0/10. It’s just smut. That’s it. When it isn’t it’s just “Ooooh! Azure is jealous of Macaque! Tee-hee, sorry Azure!” and that’s it. I’ve never actually seen any non-sexual, Azure-focused Lionpeach.

Personal Enjoyment: 5/10. It’s a fun enough dynamic to explore, especially with how unhealthy it is. I’ll probably make a bot of this too one day. Maybe a “yandere dads” type. Or a mutual Primal Moon bot.

Celestialchaos

Name Rating: 10/10. Another not peach-based name is a win in my book!

Canon Rating: 6/10. Xiangliu is civil enough to Wukong (about as much as everyone else), but the mention of them having once been friends is what got my attention. Shrouded past + + potential reincarnation shenanigans + decently civil behavior = a very happy writer. It’s so little but it makes my brain itch.

Fanon Rating: 0/10. It doesn’t even exist babes ;( I’m scrounging for water in the lonely plains of a desert y’all. I’m a lonely little cactus and Celestialchaos is my annual three-inch rain.

Personal Enjoyment: 10/10. C’mon now. You all were expecting this. I love this ship. I’ve already made four chatbots. I love Xiangliu as a wild little freak who desperately tries to push Wukong away from other people and sad lonely Wukong finding refuge in a freaky toxic snake. Especially I like the idea of Xiangliu pitting himself against Macaque and going after Sun Wukong just to cause a little trouble, only to actually catch feelings and start pursuing him in earnest. I like “I want you at your worst so I can prove that I still love you even then” Xiangliu and “You love me at all?” Wukong.

I really like this ship.

End Result

(Scores ranging from -40 to +40)

Shadowpeach= 1/40

(Past!Shadowpeach would around 20)

Lotuspeach= 7/40

Freepeaches= 16/40

Peachbuns= 11/40

Moonstone= 34/40

Lionpeach= 11/40

Celestialchaos= 26/40

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’m at my desk trying to focus on writing code for our game, but it’s slow going. Distracted by my own thoughts, I find myself staring out the window in front of me more often than not while my fingers rest on the keyboard. Ash sits patient and unbothered on my bed, playing on my Switch while he waits for me to finish.

We’re quieter today than usual, both of us tired and mildly hungover from the night before, but still determined to make some progress today.

I try my best to clear my mind, to focus on the screen in front of me and listen to the music coming from my Lin-Z speaker, quietly singing along and bouncing my leg anxiously to the beat. Every once in a while, Ash chimes in, singing a line or two along with me, and I realize how often I make him put up with my playlist even though he much prefers his own. But I have a specific one that helps me when I work, so he usually doesn’t protest too much.

As I sing the lyrics to Your Silent Face for about the thousandth time in my life, and still never tiring of it, I hear Ash join me in singing the last line, “You’ve caught me at a bad time. So, why don’t you piss off,” and we both chuckle under our breath. Over time it’s become a joke between us, ever since the day he walked up to me at work to invite me out for a drink and caught me singing the line aloud.

I think about that night at the bar often. Sitting in the dark corner, like we were in our own world, nothing in the universe existing but the two of us, talking until the bar closed. I remember how disappointed I was when we were eventually forced to leave, how nervous I was as we stood on the edge of the sidewalk. And I’ll never forget the first time that I kissed him.

I can’t help but wonder where we’d be now if I’d let things continue, if I hadn’t gotten in my head and panicked, if I hadn’t pushed him away. And I want nothing more than to set things right.

As he sits behind me on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about the last time he was there and the words he said to me. I wish I’d handled it differently. I want to take it all back. To tell him he was right. But I don’t know how. Ash is the easiest person in the world to talk to, and yet, every time I think of opening my mouth to say anything I have a deep sense of dread that it will come out all wrong, that I’ll somehow make everything worse by doing so.

“I have a question.” The sound of Ash’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I stop typing, suddenly nervous, though I’m not sure why.

“What’s up?”

“The whole I-don’t-date-people-I-work-with thing, is that for real? Or is it your way of letting me down gently?”

I’m a bit confused by his question. Could he really think I’m not into him and just saying that to spare his feelings? “No, I meant it.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

I get up from my desk and walk over to join him on the bed as I think about how to answer. I hate that I suddenly feel the need to defend an argument that I don’t fully believe, but what else am I supposed to do? Say never mind, I was full of shit? Or actually I’ve changed my mind, let’s forget about it. I can’t do that. So, I give a reason, and secretly hope he makes a solid rebuttal that will give me the opening I need to take it back, “It’s messy,” I say, “Like, if we get in a fight or break up, and still have to work together, it’s just—”

“Messy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...” he stands and walks over to my bookshelf, looking over it like he’s suddenly very interested in my old worn-out copies of Tolkien books. I have a tendency to reread the same books, the same way I listen to the same songs over and over. I suppose I find comfort in the familiar. Maybe even more so than most. I’m tempted to make a comment about it, but I know Ash well enough by now to know that he’s not interested in the books, that he’s thinking carefully about what he wants to say next, so I wait. Eventually, he turns back to me, “So, if we didn’t work together…?”

“Then, it’d be different.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk as he walks over. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of me, his legs between mine. He tilts his head to the side curiously, “Different how? Show me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s pretend for, say, five minutes, that we don’t work together.” He leans forward, bringing his hand up to my cheek, his face mere inches from mine, the spices from the chai tea he drank on his way over still lingering on this breath, and I feel a rush of heat fill my face and neck as if the very nearness of him has set me alight.  

“Five minutes?”

“Mhm,” he grins, “Five minutes. What would you do differently?” His eyes take on that playful glimmer that makes my heart race. I know that look. He knows I know that look. And it all goes to my head until all I can think about is pulling him back onto the bed with me.  

 “Set a timer.”

He smiles as he pulls his phone from his pocket, the warmth of his hand still lingering on my cheek as he slides his thumb over the screen before turning it around to show me it’s set for exactly 05:00. “Starting… now,” he presses the green button and tosses it onto the bed.

I waste no time, reaching for him as soon as the phone leaves his hand, and pulling him with me as I lie back. He falls on top of me with a startled laugh.

I don’t have the luxury of taking things slowly, of savoring each second the way I normally would. Instead, I roll him over and kiss him fiercely. Our legs intertwine, and I hold him as close to me as I can, wishing we’d had time to remove our clothes so I could feel his skin against mine.

Our kisses become deep and passionate, and I start to resent the timer counting down, my awareness of it preventing me from fully giving in to the moment. I’m tempted to reach over and turn it off, but I can’t do that, so instead I move my lips to his jaw, following the path of his birthmark and burying my face in his neck wishing I could pause time through sheer will alone.

And then the timer goes off. A series of loud beeps brings the room back into focus, and we pull away, breathless and laughing.

“Time’s up,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbow.

“Damn. I should’ve gone for an hour.”

“That would’ve been dangerous.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Guess you’ll never know,” I laugh as he pushes me away playfully so he can get to his phone, still beeping behind us.

The sounds of Blue Monday coming from the speaker take the place of the alarm as he shuts it off and slides the phone back into his pocket. “Okay, well,” he looks over at me, “you’ve convinced me.”

Convinced him? I suddenly feel as though I’ve missed something along the way. “Convinced you of what?”

“I’ll put in my notice on Monday.”

Everything inside me halts. My heart, my breath, every cell in my body stopping in their tracks. “You’re not serious.”

He shrugs as though what he’s saying is no big deal, “Why not? It’s just a job. I’ll find another one. Question is, is that enough? Or are you gonna make me wait the two weeks until I’m actually gone?”

My body restarts again, overcorrecting and going into overdrive, panicking at the idea of him leaving, of not seeing him every day. Getting coffee, going for walks, eating lunch, telling stupid inside jokes over IM and hearing him laugh from across the room… all of it… ending. “I… I don’t want you to quit.”

“Well, if you won’t let me be both, then I choose boyfriend over co-worker.”

“Wh- boyfriend?” A fresh wave of anxiety pours over me at the word. I mean, I get it, we’re obviously not just friends, I don’t think we ever have been, and we’re clearly incapable of being casual, at least with each other, so boyfriend makes sense, but hearing him say the word only reminds me of how incompetent and inexperienced I am when it comes to real relationships.

“Or am I just a piece of ass?”

“What?! No, of course not, it’s not like that.”

“What’s the problem then?”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. My head spins, scrambling to come up with something... I can’t let him quit his job just to be with me. It’s too much. And I don’t want to not work with him. But I can’t tell him I want him to stay and be with me. Not after all the time I’ve spent insisting he can’t. Even if I could, I have no idea how to be his boyfriend. Not for real. But isn’t this exactly what I wanted?

I have to find a way to talk to him, but the longer I stay silent, the harder it is to find the words as they get crowded out by the growing chaos of conflicting thoughts swirling around my head like an out-of-control Tilt-A-Whirl.

Next to me, I feel his shoulders slump, and I know I’ve let him down… again. “Right.” He says this as if my silence has told him everything he needs to know. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Atlas," he sighs, "I’m tired of the mixed signals. I wish you could just be honest with me. When you're ready to do that, let me know. But I’m not going to wait around much longer. I can’t.”

I reach for him as he gets up to leave, “Ash, wait.”

But he shrugs me off, “Nah,” and continues out the door.

Once he’s gone, I lie down on the bed wondering how the hell I’ve managed to fuck this up yet again.

Maybe it was stupid of me to think I could do things differently.

And, if that’s the case, maybe it’s time I let him go.

As this realization sinks in, I feel my heart start to break, slowly at first, small fissures splintering, then shattering all at once as I stare silently at the floor, my throat tightening as my body tries desperately to remember how to cry, to give some kind of cathartic release for the pain. But, just like me, it fails yet again.

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning]

this whole entire situation is absolutely fucking disgusting. there is a clear difference between using s*xual ass*ult as a kink and writing dark romance. if you can’t see the difference, then you need to get off the internet because YOU are the ones creating this toxic environment.

this whole situation stemmed from a writer on this website using s*xual ass*ult as part of a friends to lovers fic. not only did she not use tags or warnings to give people the chance to choose not to read it (because it could very easily have triggered someone else’s trauma) but then she doubled down on it after being initially politely and privately called out on it. she blocked everyone who tried to talk to her about it, changed the writing in the fic without ever acknowledging it, and finally decided to deactivate her account and make a new one thinking that she was going to escape the backlash she was getting (she’s now @elendraliege for anyone wondering)

there are people backing, defending, and supporting her when what she did was unequivocally WRONG. using s*xual ass*ult as a fetish in itself is WRONG. writing and using a scenario that could very much be someone else’s exact trauma story is WRONG. not putting a trigger warning at the beginning and taking away someone’s choice to not read it is WRONG. and if you think differently, you need to reevaluate your morals because there is no situation where that is okay.

now i do understand that some people who have experienced s*xual ass*ult use writing as a way to take their power and control back and that is completely completely valid. however, i do think that if you choose to post that, you still need to put trigger warnings out of respect for everyone else’s trauma and i don’t feel like that’s an unreasonable thing to expect.

i also think its important for people to understand that while writing fanfic about a real person is normal and a lot of people enjoy it AND NONE OF THE BOYS HAVE STATED THAT THEY DON’T LIKE IT OR THAT ITS THE REASON THAT NOAH LEFT SOCIAL MEDIA, writing these kinds of fics about them can be dangerous and very damaging to their reputations, as a lot of people don’t understand what the word fiction means; thus why there should be some kind of statement that clearly specifies that it is not a real scenario in addition to the trigger warnings.

this divide between the whole fandom on this website should not exist, nor should this situation because that fic should never have existed in the first place. y’all gotta stop with the baseless hate because the only thing it does is make you look bad. bullying those who speak out against actions that are, again, unequivocally wrong is immature and heartless. supporting someone who writes fics like the one that started this mess proves that you have no regard or respect for someone else’s trauma and it makes you a vile human being. hiding behind a screen and using the anon shield to harass someone in any situation is despicable and only proves how miserable you must be in your own life that you feel the need to make others just as miserable as you.

anyone who disagrees can block me and if you want to send me messages or start bullying me too, don’t be a coward and hide behind the anon filter. say it with your whole chest or don’t say anything at all. *update: you no longer have the choice to use anon because i disabled it so if you want to say something to me now, you have to do it without hiding yourself :)*

oh and also i mean this genuinely sincerely from the absolute bottom of my heart

fuck all of you for bullying my favorite blogs off of this website.

[mediocreanomaly]

NESTING? PLS 😭 like ARE WE CONNECTED SOMEHOW this is so good

i have drowsy knives purring himself to sleep stuck in my head now--THIS IS LITERAL GOLD 😭 it would take a v special s/o to pick up the slight nuances of his emotions too n he'd be head over heels 🥺

but nesting instincts 🥺 please for the love of everything knives elaborate i i i wanna know all there is to know ab this man 🥺👉👈

n maybe vashy seperately too?? 🥴

Authors Note: Turned this into a full post because I'm procrastinating my drabbles anyways lmao this is going to give away a teeny tiny bit of my uncanny Vash post I'm making but I love talking about the Twins and their less than human instincts

Savern Twins Nesting HC's

Knives

•Knives is surprisingly the less embarrassed of the twins about nesting instincts, this is solely based on the fact that he doesn't see his plant qualities to be anything to be ashamed about, it's just another thing that sets him apart from humans

•Although, no one (besides you) knows about Knives nest. You may wonder how the two points can co-exist but that because a Plant's nest is supposed to be somewhere secure and safe. So while he's not embarrassed that he has a nest, he's not going to openly talk about it and risk giving away someone trying to get a peek of it (not that he really openly talks about anything)

•Knives nest is big, he had a bed custom made that's larger than a kings but circular and with plush raised walls so it feels not secure and less in the open. He's collected various blankets and pillows that fill the empty space so that he can bundle up under them, all of it is white because he refuses to let his nest look ugly or disorganized

•He's a perfectionist too so he spends a lot of time organizing and reorganizing his nest. Every time he gets a new blanket or pillow to add he has to redo the whole thing to make sure it's in the perfect spot or else he refuses to sleep in it

•Now Knives doesn't have to sleep much like he doesn't have to eat, but sleeping is something enjoys. He stresses about his plans a lot even if he doesn't show it outwardly. What better way to destress than napping in his nest?

•Whenever he decides to officially make you his mate (yes he calls it that, what else is he supposed to call it? Everything else sounds too human) all his instincts will scream at him to burrow into his nest

•For awhile you'll actually be hard pressed to even be allowed out of the nest, because why would you want to leave? As your mate Knives needs to keep you safe, and where's the safest place in the world? His safest place in the world, so please stop trying to leave the nest- you're hungry? fine he'll bring you food that you can eat in the nest

•I honestly don't think Independents hold body heat because their sisters live in water, which is one of many reasons they nest. It's also why Nai will drag you in with him when he wants to sleep so he can bum off your body heat. That's when when you learn he can purr (yeah thats right Plants purr propaganda) naps like this are the best. It's hard to stay awake when he's got you cuddled under blankets, gentle rumbles lulling you asleep

•After awhile you'll be allowed out so long as you are by his side or being escorted by Legato, or atleast unless you get pregnant

•If Knives manages to get you pregnant...you are banished to the nest again. It's not so bad though, besides he likes you like this. All round and full of his child, surrounded by plush comforters and pillows that cradle your form. At this point he won't leave your side unless he has to, if his instincts were bad before then they are haywire now, he stays curled up with you because theres no way you'd be able to defend yourself in a state like this, it's his job as your mate to keep you and his unborn child safe and sound, tucked away from the rest of the world

•When the baby is born it's where you'll spend most your time too, I mean...c'mon think about it. Your little one all tucked against you and Nai curled protectively around both of you, gentle purrs from both him and your baby as both their plant markings glow ever so slightly? If there's such thing as heaven this is it

•Knives has purposely made his nest large enough to hold his growing family, so no matter how many children you have you'll all get to curl up in the nest to find comfort or just to sleep.

•I think unfortunately once the children hit a certain age they are kicked out of the nest lol, it's more reserved for a Plants mate and young ones, so starting at maybe teen age it's time for them to make their own nest

•This isn't to say they aren't ever allowed in at all though. If Knives children are in any sort of distress his instincts kick in telling him to make sure their safe so in times like that they are still allowed in, the purpose of the nest is to provide him and his family with safety and comfort so no matter what it's there waiting for you

Vash

•Vash is admittedly a bit more embarrassed about the fact that he nest

•He tries his best to blend in with humans and thinks that people might find it weird that his instincts are constantly telling him to grab every soft thing he can find and hunker down

•Not that it really matters because he's always on the run anyways, he doesn't have time to stop and nest in the first place which makes it an easy an excuse to not nest at all, so Vash doesn't have a nest...right?

•Wrong. Like I said it's instinct and even Vash can't help but begin to nest in whatever shitty motel room he's in, especially if he's had a really rough day and just wants to sleep.

•Vash's nest is...admittedly a bit more pitiful than Knives. Knives has the advantage of staying in one spot, Vash does not, so he doesn't have a single nest but more so a hastily made one consisting of anything soft he can find. old blankets, pillows, clothes, rags, and even his own coat all make up his haphazard resting place.

•When he meets you though oh boy does it make it harder to resist the urge to stay and make a nice big nest for the two of you to hide away in

•It takes awhile for you to learn of Vash's little habit because he tries really hard to hide it away. He doesn't want you to think he's weird so when he does show it to you and you don't react negativly he's shyly asking, "do you...want to get in it?"

•Please say yes, his heart can't take any other answer. After that Vash is more keen on nesting even though the two of you travel, you even buy him a couple blankets that you pack up and bring so that he has something more consistant to nest with. The two of you will arrive at the motel for the night and you sit on the bed watching as Vash sleepily mulls over the blankets, pillows, and clothes he's choosen and organses it in a satisfactory way before he weakily pulls you in with him, purring as he cuddles up to you

•If you run your hand through his hair you'll be rewarded with more purrs and him nuzzling into your hand, but don't comment on it or he'll get embarrassed and hide his face into the blankets while he pulls away

•Vash wouldn't try to get you pregnant unless it was after he dealt with his brother and at that point I think he'd have a more permanent nest. Whether that's on Ship 3 or your own little home he's finally got a spot that he knows is always there, perfect to keep you in while you grow your baby!

•Vash loves spending time in the nest, it's from a mixture of putting off his instincts so long when he was on the run and the fact he actually has a place of comfort for once that does it, so if you can't find your partner...he's most likely buried in the nest

•It's super cute though, you'll walk in the room and softly call "Vash?" and his head will peak out of the mountain of blankets eyes still half lidded with sleep and hair all messy as he says a soft "hmm?"

•This nest is still a bit more messy and it's one of those "it looks disorganized but Vash know exactly where everything is" situations, he doesn't really care about colors or anything, infact it's proably mostly blankets that other people have gifted him over the years, he feels like it tells a story

•Unlike Knives, you'll have to be the one to eventually kick the kids out of the nest once they get older because "what do you mean they can't stay in here with us? Their still our baby!" "Vash their 20" "and?"

•Vash's plant marks always appear when he's in the nest, he can't help it! It's so comforting, besides he has you here warming him up and your kids cuddled in the covers- oop he's crying, don't worry they're happy tears

After note: I hope you liked it!!! I wanted to add more stuff about you being able to read Knives but it didn't really fit so that might have to be saved for another list I'm a firm "the boys do weird but cute animal things" believer and it's my job to infect people with that propaganda

[dekusleftsock]

Dekus no good, very bad, faceplant into masculinity and internalized homophobia

I made this a thought post from chapter 402 originally, but I can’t let these thoughts fester any longer. Gotta be correct about it 🫶🫶🫶

Alright so when I originally talked about this on a couple of platforms (not just tumblr, tiktok too and a bit on Twitter that has no connection to this account lmao) I feel like people told me that I was “stretching” with my assumptions.

But then Toga’s backstory being told to Ochako was… directly referenced to a queer allegory. And in 394, she directly says that she likes girls. It’s the thing said last, implying it’s something she’s still ashamed of feeling.

This chapter basically confirmed in my mind that Himiko’s blood quirk was the equivalent to the homophobia that was probably in her own household. And in my mind, that means that blood quirk = metaphor on her queer experience.

And then suddenly, the pieces clicked into place.

In 348, Izuku disagrees with Himiko and Ochako’s ideals—not only at the idea of girly romance, but also at unconventional romance.

Ochako has distanced herself due to Izuku’s inability to confront his own feelings. Shown both physically and metaphorically.

Ochako took all the steps to walk away because from Izuku. Because Izuku held her back.

Or more rather, she realized that Izuku was no allmight, but rather just an average boy in need of saving as anyone else. He is someone who’s flaws cannot align with Ochako’s own ideals for a relationship.

Because ochako is weird.

Izuku holds her back. She can’t be everything she needs to be while around him.

And that’s something Izuku’s not going to understand, not like how she needs him to understand.

And Himiko knows who Ochako is on a more fundamental level than Izuku ever will, and that’s okay.

I feel like whenever I talk about these character flaws having to do with Izuku, it almost sounds like I’m bashing him? I swear, I’m not, it makes complete sense as to why he is this way. And there are people (Katsuki) in the world who can have this in a relationship under the right communication, and some people can’t. And that’s just how we exist. That’s okay. We don’t all have to be compatible with everyone.

Back to the main point, the pieces and the people putting those pieces together were starting to see their parallels.

Even the manga placement parallels them, especially with how clever I feel horikoshi can be with his paneling.

Looking down, looking up. Both three quarter angles. Small mouth expression, big mouth expression. And that blush.

Fake smile when unhappy. Falling for someone who is dying, who you’d do anything for, even toe the line of death defending them, fixing them—just because you can’t help but love someone you wish had walked into your life sooner (or in Izuku’s case, accepted into your life sooner).

Someone you’d sacrifice for. Someone you’re violent for. Someone you’d kill for.

Someone you’d rather let an entire population of people die for than live without.

Someone you’re undeniably, unequivocally, selfish for.

And yet Izuku doesn’t recognize his same symptoms of love through Himiko Toga as Ochako does.

Himiko must be dehumanized to Izuku, because if she’s a person, then she is him.

(What’s even more interesting about this panel, is that if the characters were reversed and it was about Izuku’s violent feelings over protecting Katsuki, danger sense would be going off constantly. So toga is the perfect counter, but Izuku is the ultimate weakness.)

So, okay, how exactly do these things matter? How does this have to do with Izuku’s own personal struggle over his masculinity?

I think what’s important to clarify here is that when I say “internalized homophobia”, I don’t mean that he necessarily is beating himself up over the fact that he likes a boy instead of a girl.

I think it’s connected to his fear of rejection, and his own personal issues having to do with remaining a “strong man” instead of a “weak man”.

Izuku may not believe that liking men is anyone’s business but his own, but does Katsuki think that?

Izuku has called his feelings of admiration gross. Not that he himself is an awful person for feeling them, but that Katsuki will be the one to think they’re gross. And he’s worked so hard to get to this point in their relationship, he doesn’t wanna let it go over some stupid feelings.

And this is where toga comes into the picture, his parallels between her, because just how is Toga supposed to know that Ochako isn’t judging her for her feelings? Technically, all of the things she’s said before the final fight between them have only proved the inevitable. That Toga is gross, a freak, a predator, a danger, because she loves a woman.

How is Izuku supposed to interpret being called a stalker by Katsuki? How is he supposed to interpret when people call him creepy for his muttering and analyzation? How is he supposed to interpret being called a crybaby by his idol, Katsuki, and everyone else when he cannot control that?

How can he handle feelings that are out of his control, and still believe that they’re okay?

And at the very least, even if homophobia doesn’t exist in mha, heteronormativity does. Especially shown through Ashido, a straight girl.

None of that is necessarily Allmight, Katsuki, or even Ochako’s fault, because of course they’re just teasing him—but it doesn’t change the fact that it affects how he perceives himself.

So when I say that Izuku has problems with internalized homophobia, I mean that he is afraid of how the people around him will perceive him, than a constant feeling of self hatred due to not liking women.

And when I say that his internalized homophobia is an extension of his masculinity, I mean that because he has no confidence in himself and his more vulnerable emotions, he is unable to accept what or who he is. This ofc affects the people around him, like saying that Ochako CANT be weird because she’s just “so amazingly normal” without realizing that he’s just downplaying who she is and what she thinks, or dehumanizing the most openly queer character in the series because it benefits the perception he has of himself, or even silently rejecting Katsuki’s feelings simply out of a need to “control his heart and control his quirk”.

In Izuku’s mind, the only way to keep Katsuki is to not be the weird kid he was in his childhood. In a way, Izuku is still performing for Katsuki.

[galesdevoteewife]

Let’s talk about Mystra

Hello everyone, I wanted to talk about Mystra👋🔮

As much of a crazy lover as I am for my fictional wizard, the more lore research I do, the more I feel like Mystra deserves some love too. This goddess lives a cursed life. I know I know she asked Gale to kill himself, but bear with me; here are my arguments:

A bit history of Mystra

There’re 3 Mystra: Mystryl -> Mystra (Elminster’s Mystra) -> Mystra (Midnight)

In short, Mystryl is the fourth deity in the universe, composed of Shar & Selûne’s essence. She is one of the primal existences while the universe is still new and trying to settle down, a significant component of the universe itself. While Mystryl’s spirit was born naturally, Mystra and Midnight were both once mortal and raised by AO to inherit Mystryl’s power.

Is Mystra bad?

Midnight, “Mystra 3rd ” is who we met in BG3. She was a human magic user born in 1332 DR. Midnight was aiding Mystra 2nd at the time of troubles. She’s a kind-hearted and humble woman who ascended in 1358 DR. She didn’t want godhood at all; she only did it to counter Cyric, the bad guy.

From comic book Avatar (1991)

For decades, she even tried to allow only the good use of magic, later learning her duty and place as the guardian of balance and impartial arbiter of the Weave; no matter how Midnight feels or hopes things could have been. She was only 26 when she had to wave goodbye to everyone she knew, shouldering the 24/7 goddess duty. It’s true that she will inherit other Mystra’s memory, but personality-wise she is only 160 years old; even Halsin is older than her. (Not to mention she spent 94 years in dormant)

Note[1]: Later on all the Mystra mentioned I will be talking about Midnight

Note[2]: Dec17/2023 I will come back and edit this section; it's misleading according to Ed Greenwood's tweet. The current Mystra is likely a blend of all three Mystras with an unspecified proportion. I will provide details on the stories and deeds of the other Mystras.

Being Mystra sucks. Truly.

Imagine your body is just a thing lying on the street; anyone can command you to dance for them so long as they know the right spell. While you CAN reject it, you are NOT ALLOWED to.

What’s worse is that too many mortals and too many gods want the Weave, but it’s not something that she can “give”. Like no one can give away their body to someone else. She IS the Weave; I think of it as the Weave being the cells that compose her. Whoever wants to take it away will have to separate her mind and “body” by:

killing her and inherit the Weave, where all the attempters failed step 2, then only resulted in a broken/Weaveless crisis

or completely manipulating her mind, which is the option no one ever considers; they all go straight to killing her

Whenever DnD wants to change the rules, they kill Mystra.

Shar wants the Weave, Bane wants it, countless mortals want it too. According to the conversation between Gale and Lorroakan, it’s almost a common conversation trying to dethrone the goddess and take the power for themselves.

And no one is there to protect Mystra; she fights alone. Although she has a good relationship with gods like Selûne or Azuth, nobody lent a hand when she was murdered. She relies on her chosens and her own power.

On top of defending herself, aka protecting the Weave, another important duty is to maintain the Weave. Whenever a spell is cast, it damages the Weave, and she is the one to patch the holes. The more powerful the spell is, the bigger damage it will cause. That’s why her dogma includes “Use the Art deftly and efficiently, not carelessly and recklessly.” She also needs to keep an eye out for possible upcoming threats. A tough and tedious job, and no holidays for the goddess.

It might sound a bit twisted, but she is taking care of the world by taking care of herself. Anything happening to her means catastrophe for the world. (e.g., Spellplague, where magic caused mutations to the users, see wiki here)

But she asked Gale to explode himself!

Yes, and she also promised Elysium once he’s dead. There is actually a thorough afterlife setting in the Forgotten Realms DnD setting. In short, a spirit doesn’t perish when a mortal dies; it would be drawn to the Fugue Plane and wait for the god they prayed to in life to send a servant to take them to their heaven.

It’s a terrible fate for the faithless or false spirits, those who either defy their gods or never choose one. They are forever punished in this grim plane and even become part of the Wall of the Faithless.

Fugue Plane and Wall of the Faithless: those are spirits piling up into a wall

In Mystra’s case, her heaven is Elysium, judging by the name, you can already tell it’s likely a heavenly place. Significantly better than the Fugue Plane, that’s for sure.

It’s a fixed truth that all will die someday, and Gale’s afterlife options are:

Defy Mystra: When he dies, he will be forever punished as a false in the Fugue Plane. Not to mention Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead, is also Midnight Mystra’s former(?) lover, and he detests cowardice.

Defy Mystra and try to gain favor from another god: I think this will mean changing class and profession for him, as a wizard he is tied to Mystra after all.

Serve Mystra and be taken to Elysium: And who knows, since he is chosen of Mystra, she might even revive him someday. Mystra 2nd did that for her other chosen before. Note: Interesting reading about how her chosen become weaveghost after death, see wiki here.

Obtain godhood: When the god Gale dies, he will go through a completely different process.

An interesting thought here is whether Gale knows about all these. It will largely define what his true colors are. It wouldn’t make sense if he is completely ignorant of afterlife logic, though. His background is an experienced wizard (probably studied some necromancy), goddess ex, and apparently visited heavens before.

Is Mystra power-thirsty?

I wouldn’t say so. She is already OP, and AO asked her to nerf herself by sharing and storing power in her chosens. Even if she were to gain more power, she is not allowed to keep it.

She wants the Shadow Weave

She sees Shar’s secret creation, the Shadow Weave, as a threat and aims to eventually subsume it into her portfolio, even if that means sacrificing her last remaining goodness and humanity.

From the DnD book “Faith & Pantheons”

We see how Shar is using her Shadow Weave in the cursed land, and it's safe to say it's not an ideal living environment for most beings. Shar has been very keen to kill Mystra and take over her power; I don’t think the world would be a better place in her hands than in Mystra’s.

She wants the Karsite Weave

The same logic could apply to the Karsite Weave. While we can argue whether Gale has a good heart and can be trusted with godlike power, he did show some concerning traits, did he not? Maybe in the future, when he is wiser and calmer, that's how I read Mystra’s line when she tells him to be patient.

Why doesn’t she just cure him since she can?

This is 100% headcanon. I think Mystra as a goddess is able to foresee some future. In Elminster’s story series, Mystra 2nd often asked him to do things that seemed irrelevant but were actually needed in the future. In Gale’s case, could it be that’s what Midnight meant to do? To mentor and humble him? Even prepare him to go through this journey? (Hardly imagine the prime archmage Gale joining our little merry band, and Elminster did say, “Mystra was anything but idle- she chose you as her champion.” What could that means?)

Gale has a curve where he goes from being “irked by untalented apprentices” to “enjoying teaching a lot” if not using the crown. He could have been relying on magic too much, and his ego or pursuit of power had led him astray from his good nature. If you look from this perspective, offering to use the orb before the final battle could be him still having doubts about the team's ability and having more faith in magic aka his own power (mixed with his deep love for everyone that he'd rather die than see their lives wasted, of course).

She is a terrible lover, and she doesn't care about Gale at all

According to patch 5, how time feels in the outer plane is very different from the material plane. God Gale came back in 6 months, and he seems not aware that it has been months. With this logic and putting myself in Mystra's shoes, she got mad because Gale recklessly activated a magical nuclear bomb and ignored him for a couple of weeks.(~1 year in the mortal world) When they meet again, this grumpy jumpy bean is thinking of the possibility of killing her for her powers already. Excuse me???

I will say there could be more considerate ways to handle this subject other than asking him to bomb himself. This long-distance cross-race romance was very problematic, but I will reserve my opinion on how much love she holds for Gale. Probably not seeing him as an equal partner, of course, but drawing the conclusion that she doesn't care a tad about his well-being might be too hasty, in my opinion.

A screenshot of Mystra telling Gale that she wasn't the one who took his gifts away from him. That's not an expression of 0 sympathy to me. I've never seen her make this face except for this line.

*UPDATE on Dec 11/2023* Add a tweet from Ed Greenwood, the creator of the Forgotten Realms. Ref: X

*UPDATE on Jan 11/2024* • Add a screenshots during Gale's meeting with her • Add a note on DnD weaveghost setting *UPDATE on Apr 15/2024* • An great analysis of Gale & Mystra's relationship and Mystra's behavior logic

-DISCLAIMER- I am very new to the DnD world, but these are what I dug up and puzzled together. I could be very, very wrong, but please be kind; I did all this out of love for my wizard 💜💜💜

[twoa-plus]

dissecting stanford pines and finding organs that don’t exist but like in a metaphorical way

that’s it that’s the title i’m going with. this is a long one folks o7

most of this isn’t sourced or canon at all it’s just personal interpretation/headcanon/whatever else u wanna call it, but!! since more people are seeing my deranged gravity falls ramblings now i figure i should probably give some perspective as to why i like/defend ford as much as i do

(in my other gf posts i do try to stick to canon to back up whatever point i’m making - this is just about my personal opinion of ford as a character, and should be able to be thrown out in regards to my other posts)

so for some background/setup/whatever (it’s important i promise bear with me), different people have different instinctual responses to anxiety/stress. i come from a family (genetics are fun) where the default response is to start (metaphorically ofc) biting and hissing like a cornered animal. this doesn’t necessarily mean there’s any actual hatred or malice or anything towards the people that end up getting scratched - they might just be at the wrong place at the wrong time, they might’ve done something super minor and insignificant that added on to a preexisting pile of stress, etc etc

i cannot stress enough that i am not saying this is ok. you dont need me to tell you that hurting people who don’t deserve it is a bad thing, lol. what i am saying though is that sometimes people can kind of suck for reasons other than just genuinely wanting everyone around them to be miserable

this is the last “background” part i swear BUT another thing thats less genetic and more just me being weird is that i’m the type of person where like. any minor environmental change can really stress me out lol. like even just reorganizing my desk can be pretty emotionally taxing

SO. finally back on topic. stanford pines. i see a lot of the behavior/patterns i just described in him. like i’ve spent my entire life around people like this, and while i understand why a lot of people see him as just some asshole, i can’t help but see him as a guy who’s just kinda going through it lol

just talking about the more recent events as of the series, he’s just spent 30 years god knows where doing and seeing god knows what, he has an abusive ex who wants to murder him and his entire family (plus the whole dimension, really), and in the three decades he’s been gone the entire world - including his own house - has changed and left him behind. add onto that that he went missing in 1982, way before we had all of the emotional/mental health resources we have now, we all saw what the stans’ childhood was like, and that ford is terrible with people - including, imo, himself. if there’s anybody out there who would have Feelings and not understand what they are or where they’re coming from or what to do about them, it’s this guy

this entire setup is the perfect circumstance for fear and anxiety and stress and uncertainty to all get translated into anger. a really big example of this, to me, is how he talks about dipper in journal 3. i’ve talked about this before somewhere so i’ll try to summarize as fast as i can lol

reading his initial entry about dipper would make u think he like. hates this kid lol. but i really don’t think he ever did - he was really excited to meet the kids in the show and already seemed to care about them just by virtue of existing, and his opinion on dipper in journal 3 seems to do a complete 180 pretty quickly which ,,, doesn’t really fit ford as a character. like i love the man but that guy can hold a GRUDGE

here’s how it reads to me:

ford gets back to his home dimension after 30 years and everything is different

he’s subconsciously kind of struggling with the fact that he doesn’t really have a “home” anymore - the sense of familiarity and comfort that would normally come with the word is gone. (i specify that it’s subconscious because, like i said earlier, i do not get the vibe that he’s particularly aware of his own emotions)

he finds out that journal 3 - something he made with his own two hands and considers part of his life’s work - has also changed in the decades he’s been gone. this adds to the feeling of unfamiliarity with the world around him

it’s easier to blame that “final straw” and say that he’s just upset about his work being tampered with rather than address the actual root of the problem, so that’s exactly what he does. this still doesn’t mean that there’s any genuine hatred towards dipper. anger in the moment, yeah, but not hatred

again, this is entirely personal interpretation, and i completely understand if u don’t see it like this!! this is just a pattern of thoughts/behavior that i’m very familiar with, so it’s easy for me to apply it to situations like this even if it’s not really part of the canon

i also think there’s a big problem in this fandom with just ,, not seeing ford as a Person with Emotions? idk how to explain it but it feels like people expect him to always know exactly what to do in every situation just bc he’s old and academically smart. like whenever another character does something objectively bad it’s “well there were extenuating circumstances,” (which is usually true and i agree !!) but ford never really seems to get that treatment. if he does something bad it’s just because he sucks

a big example of this i think is the fight between him and stan (y’know the “you ruined my life”/“you ruined your own life”). you cannot look me dead in the eyes and, in full seriousness, with the context of everything ford was going through with bill at the time, say that he was fully mentally/emotionally stable during that conversation. “oh so you’re blaming stan-“ NO!!! stan was also going through it!!! that’s the entire point - they’re both people with their own lives and emotions and everything else that comes with that, they had very human reactions to their respective situations, and they both ended up hurt!! hopefully i’m explaining this right but i just don’t like it when people pin everything on ford, like there was a lot going on and at the end of the day he’s just a human

wasn’t really sure how to work this in so i’ll just put it here - i don’t think ford ever truly hated stan, either. familial bonds are complicated, and there can be a whole lot of anger towards someone without true hatred being present. i briefly mentioned the stans’ childhood sucking earlier, and i don’t just mean stanley - it’s easier to pinpoint him as a victim of abuse/neglect, but that doesn’t mean ford had it great either. their parents (specifically filbrick, but caryn didn’t exactly do a fantastic job with them either) expected nothing of stan and the world of ford, both of which would weigh heavily on any child. plus, ford being the favorite doesn’t mean all of his emotional needs were met - filbrick seeing him as an opportunity to make money doesn’t mean he was suddenly an emotionally present and caring father towards him. WCT wasn’t just an opportunity for ford to go be a famous scientist or whatever - it was a chance for his father to love him, something both of the stans desperately wanted. (WCT was also on the opposite side of the country from where they lived but i’m sure that’s completely unrelated !!!)

do i think stan deserved anything that happened to him after the science fair incident? no, absolutely not, he was a child. do i think it was right of ford to just stand there as his brother got thrown out? no, absolutely not - but he was a child too. as for them not speaking for a decade after that, like i mentioned earlier ford can hold a grudge like no other. (this doesn’t just apply to stan, either, ford dedicated half of his life to trying to kill his ex lmao.) i think ford’s ability to hold on to anger like that is actually a pretty major part of/flaw in his personality, but again, anger - even the strongest, most long-lived of it - is not synonymous with hatred. stan, who ford has always gone to for help when he truly needed it, it not what ford’s hatred looks like. bill, who ford actively wants to die, is

anyways!! i never know how to close these things lol. ig in summary i just see ford’s behavior (in the show at least) as more of a sign of internal struggle rather than like ,, genuinely hating the people around him and wanting their lives to suck. did/does he have an ego problem? absolutely. is he incapable of love and human connection? no. is he immune to manipulation/abuse/neglect/etc and everything that comes with that? also no

he’s an interdimensional criminal why can’t he go to the theraprism. i think he should

[yuri-is-online]

omg... we talk about yuu here?? we love yuu here???

I could talk about yuu forever, they're infinitely more interesting than any of the boys to me (not sorry). I know for a lot of people yuu is just kind of their pawn for this epic fantasy world and they don't even think about the ramifications, but me personally I would descend into insanity if I got isekai'd into magical teenage boy hell. deep down I know this freak is traumatized to the nines and likely severely depressed.

one of the most important things about yuu's character is that they feel helpless. they can't perform magic in a world that's almost completely reliant on it, for one. as you've pointed out, they have no true autonomy. they have no government documentation, no family, nowhere to go, hell, they're not even a full student. they have no real hope of going home, and most of the nrc boys don't even seem to particularly care about that (if anything, I assume a lot of them would selfishly want yuu to stay, regardless of yuu's own wishes). the rules of this world are still unclear to them, and people don't really seem to acknowledge that.

can you imagine how lonely that existence would be? sure, people like yuu. they have friends. but as you've pointed out, no one (with the exception of adeuce, maybe) really seems to care about how things effect them specifically. yuu is manipulated, exploited, physically hurt and almost killed like, a bunch of times, bullied, harassed, and on top of everything, completely helpless to it. despite having friends who supposedly care about them, no one really seems to think about yuu's feelings on magic and the multiple life-threatening incidents they've experienced in their short time at nrc. as someone who has ptsd, I can't imagine that yuu would walk out of all that completely mentally unscathed.

as you've pointed out before, yuu is treated like any other student. their experiences and circumstances are never really taken into consideration, and they're expected to just... go along with things like everyone else. sure, equality is nice, but that doesn't really help yuu's case. yes, realistically, yuu is not totally helpless but good lord someone needs to help them out. someone needs to empathize with them, and defend them, and at least try a little to help them navigate this terrifying reality they've been expected to... just adjust to with no help. with their lack of autonomy, they're pretty much at the complete mercy of the people around them. yuu is lonely and I stand by that.

and on top of all of this, they have a massive amount of responsibility dumped on them constantly. yuu is a sort of mediator. they solve problems, usually ones that other people create, and never really by their own will. they arguably live in pretty shitty conditions and have no way of making money. they have to not only babysit grim (bless him tho), but also literally everyone else, while also trying to keep their own shit together. I mean, they're still technically a student. and a mini-housewarden. and crowley's errand runner. and they just got here a few months ago. psh.

yuu feels helpless, but they aren't treated as such, and so no one really extends a helping hand without ulterior motives. as much as ace and deuce want to help, they're also teenage boys and have their own tiny worlds to attend to. while people can be nice, no one seems to really want to understand, or care, about yuu's mental health.

anyway. I love the boys but in my heart I know that my yuu wouldn't be able to handle all that. me irl already deals with feelings of loneliness and crushing responsibility and misunderstanding and helplessness. twst is not a choose your own adventure type game and the tiny choices yuu gets to make don't really affect the story (which is oddly symbolic).

but like, listen. if I was zapped to another universe where I'm completely alone at a school full of teenage boys, most of which who couldn't care less if I lived or died, and one day I was sent on a trip to a city that painfully reminded me of home and some catholic-coded freak started being really considerate and empathetic to me for no other reason besides just liking me and genuinely being appalled at my circumstances, I would help him destroy magic. idc. I wouldn't even think twice about it. I stand by the idea that rollo feels some kind of affection for yuu. this would affect all of the diasomnia book because I would literally not want to leave and they'd have to drag me out of fleur city screaming and crying and clawing at the floor. poor malleus would be crushed.

anyway. haven't caught up to diasomnia yet so I may be way off. feel free to answer this or not! sorry for my weird english byebye!! love your posts

Yes we talk about Yuu here! They're the goat and I am so sorry I took forever to respond to your ask! Your English is wonderful you just had so much to say I had to really think on it σ(￣、￣=)

>deep down I know this freak is traumatized to the nines and likely severely depressed.

I think this is a very reasonable assumption to make about Yuu. While how well they take being isekaid to "magical teenage boy hell" (that's such a funny way to put it) is something up to each player's interpretation I like to write Yuu as being prone to bouts of longing for their own world, if for nothing else than wanting to feel something familiar to them. Which you point out in the rest of your ask!

I think one of the reasons people loved Rollo so much is that he was finally someone who acknowledged all those little things about Yuu's situation that we wanted to see talked about. He is someone we can realistically sympathizing with Yuu's situation and would treat them with a degree of care the other boys might not notice they needed. I have... played around with some AU stuff for him in my spare time and the conclusion I have come to is that I think he would try to avoid asking for Yuu to help him in his plan to destroy magic. He wouldn't want them to be implicated, and his plan is a sort of personal penance for his inability to save his brother. The idea that someone would want to help him, let alone someone as perfect as Yuu, isn't really something that would cross his mind. Besides, I don't think he would trust Yuu to help him immediately, he doesn't know them all that well at the start of GloMas.

Mental health tends not to be something focused on in isekai stories. I do think that our limited choices (i agree it is fittingly symbolic) have shown a Yuu who is slowly starting to feel the lack of control they have over their situation and are starting to feel stress over it. Ace says that he wants Yuu to be able to go home, as does Deuce, but I do think they both would be equally as happy if Yuu got to stay. They enjoy their friendship and love them a lot, if the story happened in more of a vacuum I could see both Ace and Deuce picking up on Yuu needing the extra support, but with how many things have happened over our school year they haven't had much time to sit and think to themselves about... much of anything really. But that doesn't exclude Yuu from feelings of loneliness or isolation; some of the most painful types of both is when you are surrounded to people and yet still feel unable to scream.

As for Malleus... well these aren't Diasomnia spoilers but if I understand his platinum jacket card correctly he can't stand seeing other people be happy when he isn't so. If Yuu were genuinely happy in Fleur City and he was left alone... oh he'd be so unhappy about that he would be beyond crushed.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | iii

A confession that was long overdue makes life even more complicated than before. Y/n has to make the hard decision of logic or emotion, only to realize that the answer she is so desperately seeking brings even more questions, and holds no comfort at all.

Read part two here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 13.1k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!reveiving), oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, choking, praise, touch of orgasm denial, biting, overstimulation, name calling, pet-names, multiple orgasms (male & female), dirty talk, some fluff, angst if you squint (light arguing, mostly just the plot line angst), feelings of guilt, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

howdy. im back from the dead 😁 here’s a little apology for all you wonderfully patient people. thanks for sticking with me ♥️ this is basically porn with plot. sorry if it’s not fantastic, i really wanted to get this out for you guys so some parts are a bit rushed and it’s poorly edited. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

“Why now, Sam?” You asked, still trying to wrap your head around the information. His hand was still resting atop yours, the heat of his skin searing and the feeling just as electrifying. He didn’t respond, just took the opportunity to watch your face, studying the details like he was dependent upon it. You raised your eyebrow, prying for an answer.

“Now is as good as any time, right? Something about living in the moment, or whatever.” He shrugged, the boyish charm of his humour showing. While it usually made you swoon, now it was infuriating.

“No, not really.” You laughed, but it wasn’t because the situation was humorous. You had no idea what else to do, and that was the only sound that wanted to make an appearance. “Maybe a few months ago? Last week? Last night, even?”

“Why does it matter?” He asked, thinking he could catch you in your lie.

“Because it does!” You exclaimed, keeping your voice as quiet as possible. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene and get everyone else involved. To get Jake involved, more specifically. “I’ve been in love with you for…” you paused, looking past him and settling your gaze on the wall. You needed to gather your thoughts before continuing. Your emotions were high, which never meant anything good. You much preferred to use logic instead of emotion, and the last two days had been completely void of anything logical. “A long time, Sam.” You finally said, looking back to him. “A really long time, and you never gave me any idea that you felt the same way.”

“You never said anything, either.” He defended, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. Had he known you felt so strongly for him, he might have acted sooner.

“Because every time you come over, you always seem to want to talk to every girl other than me. You always acted like I was just another one of the guys, not that you liked me, too.” You could see the look of regret form on his face, but you didn’t feel bad for saying it. You were hurt, completely baffled that he’d waited so long. “And the one night…” you took a deep breath, forcing the words to come out, even if you didn’t want them to. “The one night I wasn’t sitting there watching you, waiting for you to pay attention to me like a lost puppy, is the night you notice. The night I finally decided to have fun, instead of just existing, you happen to be watching me, too. The night you see another guy paying attention to me was when you finally decided to speak up? Like I was only worth liking when you were scared you couldn’t have me?”

“No, y/n. It’s not like that.” He shut the idea down, realizing how bad it looked, now. “I mean, yeah, it definitely made me want to speak up, to say something before I lost the chance, but that’s not why I’m telling you.”

“Months, Sam. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice. My entire world revolves around you, and you waited until someone else made a move?” You didn’t realize the extent of your words; once you said them, his demeanour changed.

“So, it was more than a game of beer pong?” He questioned, but he didn’t sound angry. Your stomach dropped, realizing you had sold yourself out. When you didn’t respond, he took it as more than enough of an answer. A small smile graced his lips, one that was more than unexpected. You didn’t like the look in his eye, like you’d just lit a fire inside him. “I have competition?”

“No, Sam.” You shook your head, shutting it down before he could go any further. “No competition. Not a game, or a race. This isn’t like that.” But he wasn’t listening, already straightening up in his seat with a smirk adorned on his lips, like he’d been waiting to reveal this idea to you, but didn’t know when he should. “Sam,” you warned. He moved his hand from yours, making a move to stand, now. You got up, too, not willing to let him leave without any more conversation. Once you were both standing, he didn’t turn away. Instead, he stepped towards you, brushing your hair from your face. Your heart sped at the sudden contact, not expecting it.

“It’s okay,” he assured you, running his thumb over your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into him, feeling the same gravitational pull you felt with his brother. Maybe it was a Kiszka thing, or it was just something they had in common. That, you weren’t sure of. You were sure of the heavenly feeling of his hand on you, and how badly you wanted to stay like that, forever. “You can have your fun with him, because I know you’ll end up with me, princess. I’ll make sure of it.” He promised, no tone of joking present within the statement.

“Sam,” you breathed, wanting to put a stop to the situation before it could start. Even so, you couldn’t help but feel your head swirl at the closeness of his face. The scent of incense was still lingering on his clothes even after a long night of drinking, captivating you and pulling you in even further. Through all the similarities you’d noticed between him and his brother, the feeling of their touch was so different. Both fantastic, but so unlike one another. The idea of kissing Sam was almost comforting, like a promise of safety after a long journey. The thought of kissing Jake felt almost forbidden, like it had to be kept a secret, but it was exhilarating. It was a battle of thrill and security; you’d never had much of an issue with it before, but now it seemed impossible to choose.

“Why are you saying my name like that? I haven’t even done anything to deserve it, yet.” He hummed, pulling you into him a little more. You were certain he could sense the effect his words had on you. Your chests were practically pressed together, heartbeats synced and rapid. You were torn, stuck between the satisfaction of finally having him in such a way, and guilt for doing it behind Jakes back. For something you’d been wishing about for so long, it was producing a lot of conflicting emotions.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was well aware of what was happening in the kitchen. He’d caught on as soon as Sam followed you in there, and he wasn’t mad about it. Anyone with a set of eyes could tell you had feelings for Sam, but he was confident in his ability to win you over, too. Both boys had the same deadly mindset, no worry in their mind that they would lose the game. Their cockiness and determination was leaving them blind to the reality of the situation. Both were so certain they could win you over that they were forgetting they were playing with real emotions, yours and their own.

But, it’s nothing if not human nature to be selfish, and in this specific triad, greed was the only motivator.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You finally said, but you knew you didn’t mean it; there was nothing you wanted more.

“No?” He questioned, using his finger to tilt your chin upwards. “You want me to stop?” You wanted to say yes, to push him away and forget the whole thing ever happened, but you couldn’t seem to find the strength within yourself to do so. His stare was captivating and his touch was invigorating.

“Just kiss me.” You expelled, once again unwilling to think about any consequences. Permission was all he needed to proceed. He leaned down, capturing you in a kiss that was sweet enough to make you forget your worry. It was different than any you’d had before; filled with emotion and not reliant on lust. It was over soon after it started, and unlike the moments you shared with Jake, the ending of the kiss with Sam left you with a feeling of fulfillment and relief. For the first few seconds, at least. Then, a crashing wave of panic followed.

He picked up on your change of demeanour, immediately pulling you into an embrace to soothe the after effects. He held you to him, hand rubbing circles in over your back in attempt to calm you down. “Hey, it’s okay.” He assured you, finally realizing that he may have put a little too much pressure on you. When you didn’t respond, he pulled back to get a look at your face. He wasn’t expecting you to pull him into another kiss, shocked at the suddenness of your actions.

He snaked his hand to your hip, the other cupping your cheek in a loving hold. This one was hungrier, a type of desperation laced within it. He assumed it was for him, but in truth, it was desperation for an answer. You thought if you could pinpoint the exact emotion the kiss produced within you, it would make your choice a lot easier. For a moment, it did. When you pulled away, it seemed like the world made sense again. The comfort from the short moment you shared with him was incomprehensible; something you’d been yearning for forever. The logical thing would be to let Jake go, to understand that at the end of the day, you had real feelings for Sam that had been solidified even further with time. To understand the animalistic nature of your attraction to Jake was just that, and nothing more.

The right way to go about it was to end your entanglement with Jake, and pursue the relationship with Sam. You understood that had this happened just a day sooner, there would be no internal debate or struggle about being with Sam. You had to act based on that, because bouncing between both boys was immoral and wrong. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt either of them, and allowing things to continue as such would only result in a catastrophic failure. But, even as you came to terms with the fact of the matter, you still felt saddened at the thought of losing Jake. You wanted Sam, that much was undeniable, but just within a day, Jake had earned a spot in your heart and didn’t seem to want to leave.

You yearned for the opportunity to be with Sam for so long that you seemed to put him on an untouchable pedestal. One where he was almost angelic and was viewed as if he could do no wrong. That was the issue with crushes, because it always made the subject appear like they were above all else. And, the idea of them was solely based on imagination. Whereas with Jake, you had actually been with him. Your idea of him wasn’t a fallacy; it was more real than anything you had ever shared with Sam. You knew his hands, his mouth, and his ability to bring you to your knees with just a glance. The version of Sam you had in your head was complete fantasy, and the idea of Jake was reality. And because of that, he was settled in your bones like sediment and was weighing you down while you tried to make the right decision.

“You’re evil,” You sighed, looking over his face. He gave a small chuckle in response, still hesitant to let you go.

“I never said I would make it easy on you.” He teased, giving you a smile. “Think about it, princess. You don’t have to give us an answer right now.”

“You’re asking me an impossible question.”

“Not impossible, just difficult.” He corrected, as if it would make you feel any better. “Like I said, I’m not worried.” You fought back an eye-roll at his statement. He was so caught up in his own cockiness to realize you were hurting over it. This was not the position you wanted to be in, and although he wasn’t helping, you had dug your own grave by giving in to temptation for both of them.

The sounds of footsteps in the hallway caused both of you to part, shying away from each other as if you’d committed a crime. You quickly sat back down, burying your face in your cup of coffee to hide your rosy cheeks and guilty expression. Danny and Josh walked into view, almost immediately picking up on the tense nature in the room. Danny looked as if he was about to comment on it, but decided not to. He always seemed to notice when you were acting out of the ordinary. “I think we’re gonna head out. You coming?” He eventually asked Sam. The boy looked to you one last time, but gave a nod. “We’re still on for lunch, tomorrow?” Danny turned his attention to you, now.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll pick you up at 12?”

“Yeah, perfect.” He agreed.

“Thanks for coming over.” You smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be back soon?”

“You can’t get rid of us that easily.” Josh assured you. You bid your goodbyes, eyes following them as they walked towards the front door. You listened for the sound of the door shutting before slumping down into your seat. You pulled your head into your hands, fingers tangling in the roots of your hair and gently pulling at them.

You knew what you had to do, but you wanted to process it before having to face Jake. You could hear the gentle hum of the guitar from the living room, taunting you with serenity. The sound was much too calming for your situation. The idea of joining him in the living room produced nothing but unease within you; knowing you had to go in there and tell him to leave was agonizing, because deep down, you still wanted him to stay. You were completely caught in your own mess but couldn’t find the strength to have sympathy for yourself, knowing you’d created it all on your own. Right vs. Wrong was barely existing within you, because every possibility seemed to be a little bit of both.

You thought that the shared moment with Sam would have solved everything, that it would have made the turmoil make sense. In a strange way, it did. In many more ways, it made it worse. So, you stood, no real plan in mind, and walked to the living room with intent to settle your mistakes, to right them in some sense, even if you weren’t sure how to. When you appeared in the entryway, Jake didn’t even seem to notice your presence. Instead of announcing it, you watched him for a moment, admiring him while you still could. His hair was framing his face, cascading down in a sea of brown and perfectly showcasing his features. His eyes were settled on his hand, gracing the fretboard with their talent. He seemed to be playing so effortlessly, like it was more natural than breathing. You supposed, to him, it was.

You didn’t notice the trance you’d found yourself in until he looked up at you. The simple eye contact was powerful enough to steal the air from your lungs. It only took a smile for you to forget what you’d come to talk to him about. “Alone at last, Gold Dust Woman.”

‘Fuck.’ you thought to yourself. As confident as you were in your decision, your ability to follow through was diminishing more by the second. ‘Damn him and his pretty face.’

“Come to break the bad news?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. Your blood ran cold, unsure of how he knew without you even speaking a word. He gave a small smirk at the expression on your face, wondering if you would come clean or not.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” you said once you’d gathered your thoughts. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at you.

“I told you, angel. You’re not a very good liar.” He searched beside him, finding the case for the guitar. He unplugged the cord before gently setting the instrument where it belonged.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled, unsure of what exactly you were apologizing for. Part of you felt it was because it was a show of guilt for your actions, the other part of you thought it may be because you were ending whatever you’d started with him.

“For?” He questioned, sitting back against the cushion of the couch. In place of an answer, you stared, realizing you still hadn’t made up your mind, despite being certain you had. Maybe it was his aura, so intense and alluring, or perhaps it was due to the unfulfilled promise you had made to each other. Either way, any coherent decision and moral was long gone now that he was in front of you. “Hmm?” You swallowed hard, only focused on his hand resting in his lap. The curious hand that started it all, the one that contained all of his power.

“I, uh…” his eyes never left your face, making your nervous demeanour even worse. He expelled a long breath, almost as if he was annoyed for having to answer for you again.

“Sorry that you were sneaking around with my brother?” He theorized. “Or sorry that you were caught?”

“How did you know?” You finally mustered the strength to speak up. He gave a shrug, one that radiated carelessness. He didn’t give a single shit about what you’d done with Sam, and it was blatantly obvious.

“It’s written all over your face, sweetheart.” He let out a laugh, like he couldn’t believe you were so oblivious to your own stature. “Everyone knows you like Sam, y/n. We’re not blind.”

“So why did you start whatever this is?” You asked, feeling annoyance bubble in your chest. If he was so aware of your feelings, there was no logical reason for him to instigate a relationship with you.

“I can’t give you all of the answers.” He replied, nonchalant and unapologetic for his actions.

“At least give me some!” Your frustration was apparent; both boys had been elusive and indirect about their motives, and it was driving you insane. If their intent was to drive you crazy, it was working. He let out a little sigh, as if your inquiries were an inconvenience.

“You like Sam, Sam likes you.” He stated, as if he were explaining the situation to a child. You clenched your teeth, slowly becoming more angry as he continued on. “I like you, you like me.” He paused again, waiting for confirmation of the fact. You wanted to shut the idea down, deny that you had any interest in him. But, you couldn’t, because it simply wasn’t true. If you had no feelings for Jake, it would have been easy to tell him to leave, to end the debate without a second thought. Instead, you were struggling with the simple idea, let alone the execution. As much as you hated to admit it, you did like Jake, and you liked him way more than you originally thought.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Now we have a level playing field.” He shrugged. “If you’re going to pick between us, it should at least be a fair decision.”

“So you guys decided this on your own?” You couldn’t help but feel a bit betrayed at the knowledge, that they’d let you drown in guilt and regret while they knew what was happening the whole time.

“I think you decided it, too, actually.” He explained. “You haven’t told me to leave yet.”

“Okay, leave.” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance. He laughed at your command, finding the bossy persona entertaining.

“Is that really what you want, sweetheart?” The longer you looked at him, the more you felt the urge to strangle him. Something about his air of superiority was insufferable; the nature of his entitlement was off-putting, almost like he knew you were bluffing, even before you did. You couldn’t find the strength to confirm your statement, because the truth was that you were dreading his departure.

The whole situation was ridiculous, completely unnecessary and utterly pointless. In the battle of winning you over, they didn’t seem to realize that they were only pitting themselves against each other. The promise of affection from you simply wasn’t enough to excuse the loss of their relationship, and you wanted them to understand that before they took it too far. You were well aware of how dangerous the game was, but even so, you were enjoying it despite the fact. Something about being loved by a Kiszka was euphoric, and to have it from both of them was more than enough of a reason to ignore any potential consequences.

“This isn’t a good idea, Jake.” You whispered.

“It’s a better idea than one of us sitting back and suffering in silence. We both have a fair shot, now.” You shook your head, baffled at his inability to see the issue. “We know what we’re doing, angel.” He promised. “Now, tell me the truth. Do you really want me to leave?” You felt dirty even holding a desire for him to stay. The idea of being pursued by both brothers was thrilling, but unsettling, especially knowing that it was bound to be a catastrophe. Knowing that they were aware of the situation and were actively trying to win you over was no comfort; all it served was a reminder that they were obviously not thinking clearly. You knew you should shut it down, stop it before anything bad could happen, but that pull he possessed was stronger than ever. You felt like you were gravitating towards him without even realizing it, with no means to stop it.

He stood, now, slowly making his way towards you. The gentle nature of his movements were like a cloud of a reassurance, a silent promise that he would take care of you and aid you in forgetting any of the worries you had. It was their charm in action once again; both of them had the ability to make you see past even the worst of decisions. The air surrounding him even radiated with a sense of calmness, like everything would be okay as long as he was around.

As his hands landed on your hips, your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. Morally, you knew you should have recoiled, shied away from his touch and told him to leave. You came in with the intent to do so, and still hadn’t let go of the nagging thought. Then again, you felt the same way when Sam was touching you like so. Afterwards, you seemed to have a new found sense of clarity. You thought that the clarity might make a reappearance if you kissed Jake, that the decision would be so much easier if you allowed it one last time. That way, you could have an unbiased opinion on both feelings, and make a plan accordingly. You repeated that thought in your head until you believed it.

Once again, you’d failed to see the repercussions of your actions, blinded by your own stupidity and lack of self-control. In no world was allowing the kiss an intelligent decision. But, you wanted him so badly that in the moment, it seemed only right to do so. The devil was a master at his own game, and you’d fallen right into his trap. As certain as you may have been about your course of action upon your arrival, deep down you knew that Jake would never let you go so easily. “You should go, Jake.” You managed to get the words out, despite not wanting to say them. He was close enough that you could practically feel the warmth radiating off him. His face was just close enough to taunt you, his lips so easily accessible that it was hard to think of anything else.

“I didn’t ask if I should, I asked if you wanted me to leave.” He reminded, the low hum of his voice vibrating through you. You took in a long breath, keeping your eyes closed in hopes it would help you to follow through with your statement. “Because if I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted me to stay.”

“That was before everything got complicated.” You said, barely speaking loud enough for him to hear.

“I don’t think it’s complicated at all, angel.” He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your cheek with the utmost care and caution. Your heart was pounding against your ribs, stomach twisted in a knot, knowing that if you didn’t put a stop to his antics, you’d end up in the same position as you were the night prior. “I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.” The devil inside you was partnering with the one that was possessing him, pushing you further into his arms. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

You did; you’d been starving for it since he’d given you the first taste. Even if it was wrong, the temptation was too high to turn him away. “You’re despicable,” you breathed, finding the truth of the statement proper for both brothers. Relentless and utterly despicable in their charm.

“You like it.” He taunted, knowing all too well that he was correct. He awaited a verbal answer, but the time for talking was through. Before he could get another word out, you leaned forward and closed the gap between your mouths. As much as he was hoping for the outcome, he was shocked at the suddenness of your motion. It only took him a few seconds to catch up to speed, pulling you into him and responding with as much enthusiasm as you were giving him. The internal struggle you were caught up in was immediately silenced; the only thing that mattered was him, and how you never wanted to forget how it felt to have him on your skin.

When you broke away from each other, you were too far gone to take a moment to reassess the situation, only thinking about the promises of the night prior. There was no more debate on whether he should leave. The thought of not finishing what you had started was unbearable; the idea of his departure was excruciating. You decided that you could decide later, that the damage was already done and you were only allowing yourself to be fully educated before picking your path. You could wallow in your guilt later, but for the moment, Jake was the only thing you could think about.

The human ability to overlook pain for momentary pleasure is abstruse.

“Still want me to leave?” He asked, breathless from the kiss. Although yes was the best answer to his question, you were aware that he wouldn’t even make it to the door before you were chasing after him.

“Shut up,” you snapped, still annoyed from the events that unfolded, and on edge from the pent up sexual tension. His grip on you tightened at the harsh words, picking up on your energy and preparing to match it. “Are you going to finish what you started?”

“Don’t expect to speak to me like that and get what you want.” He warned, lips still hovering over your own. You didn’t cower under the authority, too worked up to submit just yet.

“You can’t walk away either, and you know it.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” He muttered. He knew he wouldn’t, but he absolutely could if he wanted to. He’d mustered the strength to do it once, and he knew he could do it again. Instead of continuing the bickering, you snaked your hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss. It was needy, both of you trying to make up for the state you left each other in the night before. A messy struggle ensued, a battle of trying to remove each others clothes without breaking a kiss.

He managed to free you from your shirt, only breaking away from you for a second. You took the opportunity to do the same to him, wasting no time returning back to each other. Now his hands had the opportunity to roam your upper body; the feeling of him on you was better than you remembered it, perhaps because you were sober, or maybe just because you wanted him so badly. It didn’t really matter which it was, you only cared about him never stopping. He guided you towards the couch, neither of you bothered by the fact you were still in the living room. You had both come to the conclusion that the bedroom was too far away and were content with the current location.

Once you were secure on the sofa, he hooked his fingers through the sides of your shorts, pulling them off in a swift motion. There was no more willingness to wait, you were both starving for each other. He settled between your legs, reminding you so strikingly of the night prior that you were almost scared he would leave again. Your worry subsided when his hands returned to your body, knowing no other thought could override how he was making you feel. His lips curiously drifted over every available part of you, remembering every sensitive spot while he used the gesture to appreciate you all at the same time.

You could tell his patience had greatly diminished since the night before. He seemed less concerned with teasing, focused more on catching you up to his speed than anything else. In that moment, you understood just how hard it was for him to walk away from you. His plan had worked; you hadn’t stopped thinking about him once, but he achieved it at a price. His determination for the long game had faltered, and he was caught in your web just as much as you were in his. His silence spoke volumes, proving further that fucking you had been the only thing on his mind.

His fingers slipped between your legs, the act as natural as breathing for him. He took a moment to appreciate the arousal that had begun to pool, but didn’t hover too long. His thumb found its way to your clit, barely applying any pressure. Even so, the small action caused your breath to hitch in your throat. A hard realization washed over you; his hands didn’t only posses such power when you were drunk and everything seemed fantastic. You were sober, no diminished inhibitions and all normal brain power restored, and he still felt better than anything you had ever experienced. The devil inside him was constant, not encouraged by intoxication or any other means. The version of Jake you knew from the night before was the same one in front of you, now. You were gutted at the thought, knowing that liquor didn’t have any effect on the situation; he was just as charming, and you were just as willing to fall for it.

He gradually increased the pressure of his thumb, the small action quickly turning you into a mess below him. He barely had to touch you to drive you crazy. He watched your face, intent on seeing every micro-expression you were willing to make. He had yet to speak a word, and you almost didn’t want him to. As good as he made you feel, there was a part of you that was still pissed off at him. You continued to tell yourself that this was solely to settle the score, to finish what you started and move on, but you knew it wasn’t true. The intense emotions incurring within you were a direct result of his minuscule actions. Without a doubt, that told you that whatever your situation was, it wouldn’t end with your orgasm. It was far beyond sex, now. If it was just a hookup, or just for the sake of sex, you would have no issue telling him to leave. If you wanted to hook up with someone, all you had to do was go to the nearest bar. Whatever this was, was laced with emotion and coated with complexity. Even with his hands on you so intimately, you were terrified of him walking out the door.

When his fingers slipped inside you once more, you were ashamed to admit that the thought of Sam was long gone. Whatever evil Jake was doing, he was doing it unfathomably well. The spell he casted over you made it impossible to think of anything other than him, and it was terrifying. You knew that even with the knowledge of a future filled with suffering, that moment made it all worth it. The things you were willing to do to keep having him like this was despicable, and they made you feel dirty for even thinking such a way. But, as you grew to understand in the last twenty-four hours, Jake was inescapable, and part of you was okay with that. As much as it made the nature of your predicament so much more complicated, it radiated an air of comfort. That was another revelation that made your decision so much harder; the thought of cutting him off was unbearable, but the idea of continuing on as such was anxiety inducing. No matter which way you looked at it, every possibility seemed terrible.

“Does that feel good, angel?” The gravelly tone immediately stopped any forebodings before they could surface. In an instant, just with a few words, he had you completely immersed in his being once more. His caring nature seemed to be genuine, but there was a distant look in his eye that made you second guess the sincere impression. You thought maybe it was a question pertaining to his ego, and the idea did not take you as a surprise in the slightest. Still, with how generous his actions were, you had no problem feeding into him a little bit.

“Feels so good, baby.” You sighed, reaching down and cupping his cheek in your palm. The pet name seemed to spark a fire in him, his eyes darkening and his jaw clenching. He took in a long breath through his nose, seeming to relax him and allow him to focus back on his objective. He sped his movements slightly, letting his thumb brush over your clit with every pump of his fingers. “God, please don’t stop.” You whined, back arching off the cushion of the couch begging for just a bit more contact.

“Being so good for me, baby.” He stated, his mind clearly fully immersed in your face. “You know I’ll give you whatever you want.” And he wasn’t lying, although the terms were subjective and almost always his own. You had little say on when you could get what you wanted. Still, you knew that anything at all from Jake was well worth the world, even if you had to suffer first. “You gonna cum for me?” He asked, picking up on the furrow of your eyebrows, the slight part in your lips and the laboured breathing. Even if he’d only seen the expression once before, he could recognize it anywhere. It hadn’t left his mind.

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered, eyes squeezed shut and the burning in the pit of your stomach growing more intense with every second that passed. You both knew it wouldn’t take much more, but you were afraid he would pull away before you could. Jake’s arrogance left you constantly on edge, wondering if his words were true or laced with deception. Not in a terrible, untrustworthy way, but in a sense so minor that it made you second guess yourself, slowly driving you insane and leaving you begging for more. He’d never lie to you about anything important, but he was quite keen on being an asshole in the bedroom. That was part of his whole wicked agenda. You were certain he only harnessed such a persona to keep you guessing what his next move was, to keep you on his hook.

“Come on, angel.” He encouraged. The three words sent a rush of relief through you, settling the fear and letting you know he wanted it just as badly. He didn’t have to work much harder, because within a few seconds you were coming undone. It was a mess of heavy breathing and slurs of moans decorated with his name. He coaxed you through it, soaking up every detail of the experience as he watched you. “So beautiful,” he breathed, muttering the words to himself as you came down from the high. You would have missed his statement if you had not been immersed in every word and action he gave. Another rush of emotion ran through you, but this one was different than the normal feeling of arousal he usually produced within you. It was endearing, the type of statement that made your cheeks heat with a blush and a smile fight its way onto your lips. It was genuine, and you were certain you could live a lifetime surviving solely off of compliments from him.

He made a move to stand, sending you into a panic, worried he would decide he was going to leave again. He gave a small chuckle at your expression as he steadied himself on his feet. “Don’t leave.” You sat up, head still buzzing from the intensity of the orgasm. You planted your palms on the cushion of the couch to keep yourself upright. “Please.”

“I’m not, baby. Don’t worry.” He reached out, guiding your chin upwards with his hand so he could get a good look at your face. The worry in your eyes was evident, but the sincerity in his face rivalled it. You gave a small nod, opting to trust him. Your eyes drifted downwards, settling on the bulge in his jeans. He was clearly worked up himself, maybe even more than you were. He released his gentle hold on your face to undo his belt. You took in a long breath, trying to keep your excitement from showing to much.

He tossed the belt to the side, continuing his work at freeing himself from his pants. When his jeans and boxers were discarded on the floor, you bit down on the inside of your lip to keep yourself from letting out a gasp. He stood, fully exposed in front of you, and even more attractive than you could have imagined. You were no stranger to the fact that Jake was beautiful, but the sight before you was breathtaking. His cock was eye level with you, tip red and glistening with pre-cum, and even larger than anticipated. Your mouth was practically watering, and you felt your arousal growing more by the second. You reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him a little closer to you. Before he could comprehend what you were doing, you had slipped off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.

You took him into your mouth, and although he wasn’t expecting it, it was more than welcomed. The relief he felt from the small act was quite evident. He let out a low groan, bringing his hand to the back of your head and gathering your hair. He kept a gentle hold on the strands, not enough to cause you any discomfort, but enough for you to know that he was still in control. You slowly worked yourself up to speed, focusing on the head for a moment before gaining the confidence to take him further. He didn’t push you, content with anything you were willing to give him. Despite his silence on the matter, he was desperate for you, too. After you familiarized yourself with him, your need for him grew. You relaxed your jaw, allowing easier access, and took him as far as you could. Once the feeling became less foreign, you started at a steady pace.

His grip in your hair tightened and his breathing sped, a sure sign that he thought you were doing a good job. “Fuck, y/n.” He groaned, doing his best to stop himself from thrusting in time with your movements. “Doing such a good job, angel.” He didn’t want to push you, but you were both at the point of forgoing any gentle nature. The pent-up frustration from recent events were coming to an explosive climax; any and all formalities of the first time were no longer needed, and the lust was driving you both feral for each other. Your gaze fluttered up to meet his face, your stature refusing to falter. When he caught your eyes, it looked as though it flipped a switch inside of him. His jaw hardened, stare narrowing and the hold on your hair grew tighter still. He pulled you off him for a moment, taking a second to catch his breath.

When your eyes connected, it was almost as if an unspoken agreement was made. As if he’d turned into a whole different person, an aura of dominance surrounded him with just a slight expression change. “Tap my leg twice if you want me to stop.” He ordered. You gave a nod, understanding that you were giving up any control you had previously. If it was anyone else, you might have been nervous to do so, but not with Jake. As much as he could piss you off by times, you trusted him in every sense of the word. “I need to hear the words.”

“I will.” You promised, assuring him you would be honest. He looked over your face for any sign of discomfort, but he was met with an excited expression. With that confirmation, any loving undertone in his concern disappeared. He roughly guided your head back to its earlier position, the tip of his cock resting on your lips. You had to take a second to process the sudden change, but wasn’t fast enough for his liking.

“Open.” He snapped. Your shock over the harsh word was evident, but the change was welcomed. You felt a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, excited at the change in pace. You did as he asked, and he wasted no time taking advantage of the compliance. He started slower than you anticipated, but it didn’t last for long. Once you had adjusted to him once more, he held your head in place and set his own pace with his hips. You did your best to keep up with him, trying to steady your breaths and relax your muscles as much as you could. You had confidence in your ability, but you had to admit that it wasn’t an easy task. If he decided to push you further, you knew it was a possibility that you would have trouble taking his whole length, especially at such a pace. Still, you persevered, knowing that pleasing him was just as, if not more pleasurable than getting off yourself.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He growled. The blunt statement settling inside you, weighing you down like concrete had replaced your bones. The filthy praise was exhilarating, almost sending you into another orgasm from the sound alone. The new rush of arousal that took over you was primal, all fear of underperformance disappearing instantly. You reached your hand between your legs, fingers immediately finding your clit. You desperately searched for some sort of relief while he used you as he pleased.

The whole display was obscene, certainly not where you had expected to end up when you first joined him in the living room. Still, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be upset at the shift in plan. As immoral as it was, having sex with Jake seemed to ignite a whole new part of you that you weren’t sure even existed before. After years of lighthearted flings with boys who tried too hard to act like men, you believed sex was never going to be wholeheartedly enjoyable. Instead, it felt more like a chore by times. Just one night with Jake had you rethinking the entire belief, and now experiencing it again solidified the fact that you were wrong. Never in your life had you been so elated to be wrong about something.

As Jake noticed where your hand ended up, the knowledge seemed to fuel him further. As he fucked your mouth, he used his hand to push your head down in time with his thrusts. Even though you were content with the action, you had to admit that it was a little hard to handle. Your eyes were watering and you fought back a gag with every movement of his hips. You kept his words in mind, knowing that if you wanted him to stop, he would in a heartbeat. You decided you could keep up for a little while longer, mostly because you believed he wouldn’t be able to maintain his pace for any length of time. His breathing was ragged, he was glistening with sweat, and the moans slipping from his lips were pornographic. If he didn’t slow down, you were certain he was going to cum.

One particularly deep thrust caught you off guard, causing the gag you’d been holding back to surface. Your throat constricted around him while a few tears involuntarily slipped down your cheek. In your messy state, you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. Before you had time to worry if he was going to orgasm or not, he withdrew from you completely. It took him a moment before he moved or spoke. He had to calm himself down before you moved on to something new. After a few deep breaths, he carefully released his hold on your hair. His hand drifted to your cheek and he used his thumb to wipe away the stray tears that still lingered on your skin. Then, he guided your chin upwards so you he could fully see your face. He took in the sight, wishing he could sear it into his memory.

“Such a good girl,” he hummed, eyes flickering down to your hand between your legs. “Do you like being a little whore for me?” You watched him, wide-eyed and unsure of how to answer. You felt frozen, stopping your hands movement completely, wondering knowing if he wanted a verbal answer or if it was a trick question. His hand cupped your chin, settling it in the space between his thumb and index finger. When you didn’t respond, his fingers tightened against your cheeks, trying to pry a response from you. “Answer me,” his voice was low, but demanding.

“Yes,” you nodded against his grip.

“Yes, what?” You studied him for a moment, trying to pinpoint his desire. When you caught his eye, the answer seemed to come to you with ease.

“Yes, Sir.” You said, confidently. Although he wanted to keep his demeanour firm, you couldn’t help but notice that the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly. You could both feel the connection; how easy it was to read each other, how easy it was to please each other.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He muttered, loosening his grip on your face. “You liked it so much you couldn’t even wait for me to touch you?” Redness sprawled across your face at the question, suddenly embarrassed at the act of desperation. You quickly moved your hand, but the feeling of shame remained. “Don’t be shy, angel. S’okay.” He assured you, settling the unease that had risen within you. “Why don’t you let me help you out?” Your eyes fluttered closed, already imagining the feeling of him between your thighs again. After the thought passed, you thought it best to answer before he could change his mind.

“Yes, please.” You breathed. He let go of your face, reaching for you hand. You accepted the gesture and let him help you off the ground, noticing the ache in your knees from the hard floor.

He guided you to the couch once more, never straying from you as you sat down. He didn’t speak another word before he sunk down to his knees. He settled between your legs so naturally, like it was where he had always belonged and he’d been grievously suffering from homesickness. He hooked his arms under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the cushion as he guided your legs over his shoulders. As he placed soft kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs, you felt your upper body melt back into the sofa. You were excited for the next activity, but something about the gentle touch was soothingly sweet. “What have you done to me?” He mumbled, but you could feel him smiling against your skin. You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“What do you mean?” You asked, tone breathy from the closeness of his mouth to your heat.

“You’ve got me on my knees for you.” He let out a small chuckle, fingers grazing over your hips as he continued to litter marks over your thighs. “You didn’t even have to try.” You swallowed hard at the statement, realizing how quick and willing he was to abide to the change. You were both aware he was still in control, but it seemed as if he’d give you whatever you wanted with the snap of your fingers, now.

“I like it,” you smiled, the knowledge of his soft spot for you swelling your ego slightly. You knew he liked it too, even if he’d never admit it.

“I’d stay here all day if I could.” He confessed.

“Yeah?” You pressed.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Waited all day, couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good you taste.” With that, he brought his mouth to your cunt, not willing to wait for any type of response. You let a gasp out, an involuntary response to the feeling of his tongue on you again. His hands were talented beyond measure, but his mouth held power like no other; you were certain that if heaven was real, whatever was waiting for you beyond this lifetime was barely comparable to the euphoria Jake bestowed upon you. He ran his tongue through you, finally getting a taste of what he’d been doing to you. He let out a hum of appreciation, the small sound instantly sending a wave of pleasure through you.

You let your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation as much as possible. When he’d gone down on you the first time, you believed there could be no greater pleasure. Now, you knew you were wrong. Your sobriety allowed you to fully immerse yourself in the moment, and it was better than anything you thought you felt the night prior. He started slow, taking his time really appreciate you. As much as he was pleasuring you, he was enjoying himself, too. Once he satisfied his need to tease you, he pulled back for a moment. “All of this for me, beautiful?” He asked, a small sigh sounding from him. You looked down, eyes casting over his face and soaking up his expression. He looked as if he’d just been gifted the opportunity of a lifetime to have you like this.

“All for you, baby.” You agreed, breathless just at the sight of him. His eyes fluttered closed at the sound of such a beautiful statement. He seemed as though he wanted to speak again, but couldn’t resist the temptation of what was in front of him. He pulled you down a little more, leaning forward to meet the motion. His tongue found your clit with an expert precision, like it was second nature to him. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the feeling of his fingers searing into your skin was overwhelming. You’d never admit it to him, but he already had you on the brink of an orgasm.

Without moving his mouth from you, he freed one of his arms from under your leg and guided it further to the side. The change in position couldn’t even take your mind off of the spell he was casting on you with his tongue. As if he thought he wasn’t already doing enough, he slipped his middle and ring finger inside you, gently curling his fingers upward as he did so. A guttural moan sounded from your lips, completely impossible to hold back. Your fingers tightened against the roots of his hair, a silent show of appreciation for his effort. The sound only seemed to drive him further as he placed his lips around your clit. As his fingers pumped into you, keeping the same momentum, he ever so slightly suctioned his cheeks.

With the curl of his fingers and the growing pressure on your clit, you were having a hard time keeping yourself quiet. Every movement seemed to coax another sound from you, in which he used for more motivation. He knew exactly how he was making you feel, and he was determined to continue doing so. He was encouraging you with his actions, and if he could, he’d be giving you all the praise in the world. To him, there was no better sound than the ones you were making for him. The knot forming in your belly was growing tighter by the second, both of you certain that your climax would come soon. In his true generous nature, he couldn’t find it within himself to deprive you of the feeling.

Within a few seconds of steady stimulation from both his hand and his mouth, you were coming undone below him. Profanities were slurred into the air, your grip on him tightened, and all of your muscles grew tense. Your chest heaved with shaky breaths you so badly wanted to take, but were struggling to find. The orgasm was intense, one that topped any other that came before. It was long, drawn out even further by his unwillingness to slow down. By the time the peak had passed, you had no time to recover before being thrown into another, more intense phase. He’d let up on the pressure on your clit, but his tongue had returned at a steady rhythm. His fingers were still pumping into you, hitting the sweet spot that he had found and refused to give up.

The normal post-orgasm overstimulation was quite unlike this one; it was unpleasant, mostly, and would usually cause a person to shy away from touch. The feeling that came over you while he continued was new, intense and searing through every nerve in your body, but not uncomfortable. The gentle nature of his movements were pleasurable in a whole new sense. He barely had to work for another climax. You thought that maybe it had to do with how badly your body had been craving him, how desperate you had been for his touch. It was the logical answer, but the more pressing idea was hard to overlook. The one that told you Jake was just that good. That whatever entity controlled him, or whatever entity he was, could make the most painful situations seem pleasant.

His ability to pleasure you without knowing anything about your body was unfathomable, like he’d been born solely for the purpose. Every touch was exhilarating, ever glance or expression was laced with deeper meaning, and every word was coated with a type of emotion you couldn’t fake. As much as you wanted to believe that he was possessed by the devil, you had to find a more logical explanation, but one that came to mind was much less of a comfort than the initial belief. As he guided you into another orgasm with the grace of an angel, your heart ached at the newest revelation your mind had presented.

Jake knew you so well, could pinpoint every lie and pick up on any hidden emotion, knew exactly how to please you, and knew exactly how to draw you in for one simple reason; he’d been watching you, the same way you had been watching Sam. He studied every minor detail that nobody else cared to look for, and instead of you noticing his distant admiration, you were caught up in loving his brother, who in turn was doing the same to you. The twisted nature of the situation had not begun the night before because of too much vodka and a game of beer pong. The situation had been begging to be resolved for a long time, the universe imploring someone to make a move, just to end the tireless circle of suffering. Jake was in love with you, and you were in love with Sam, and nobody picked up on the sorrow until you had all had enough.

You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t true, that you hadn’t hurt Jake the same way his brother had been hurting you, but it was impossible to convince yourself otherwise. He even said it himself, before you found yourself in a mess of tangled limbs and unspoken truths. He liked you, and it hadn’t begun when you partnered up for a friendly match of pong. It had been blooming for a long time. The lesson you’d been dreading with Sam had manifested itself into one big lecture, now coming from every angle. And, as everyone knows, the karmic tendencies of the universe had never been forgiving. Instead of learning about what the world intended for you to know, you ignored it until it was too late. Your karma was exactly where you were in that moment; still in love with Sam, but undoubtedly falling for Jake, too. Whether that be in lust or love, you didn’t know. Instead of making the easy choice and facing up to the facts when they first arose, you now had a long road of difficult decisions ahead, and you didn’t want to let go of either feeling.

Before you could dwell any deeper about your profound regrets and emotions, a jolt of pleasure ran through you, stronger than the ones previous. Through the overstimulation, Jake had pried yet another orgasm from you at the most malicious time possible.

“F-fuck!” You expelled, head falling back deeper into the cushion. You were clenching around his hand, the burning in your stomach unwilling to settle. Your legs were shaking, hand keeping an iron grip on his hair while you cried out his name. He tapered his speed, slowing down so you could catch your breath for a moment.

“That’s it, angel.” His voice vibrated through you, making every bit of pleasure just a little more intense. “Such a good girl. Doing so good for me.” The words, the orgasm, the caring aura he was radiating were all more than enough to make a person fall in love, but emotions were the last thing you wanted to think about. After only a day, you were exhausted over stressing about the future and refusing to enjoy the present moment. So, without any fear of what was to come next, you leaned forward, pulling his head towards you at the same time, and brought him into a kiss. It was needy, sloppy, and not really well executed, but you didn’t care. You wanted access to every inch of him, finally submitting to the part of you begging to be consumed by him.

The devil doesn’t bargain; merely coerces you to see things his way, and he wanted you to believe that the worst decisions felt the best.

Jake broke the kiss, quickly moving to the spot beside you on the couch. You didn’t have time to process the change before he was scooping his arm under you and pulling you on top of him. You let your legs settle on either side of him, content with the new position. He guided your face back down to his, already yearning for another kiss. As your mouths were connected, he used one of his hands to lightly tap your ass, imploring you to sit up a little more. You obliged, feeling him reach under you to line himself up with your entrance. Instead of pulling you down onto him, he pulled back from the kiss.

“You okay?” He checked in, a bit breathless.

“Yeah,” you nodded, no promise ever holding as much truth as that one. He waited a moment, just to give you enough time to change your mind if you wanted to. When he was met with a staggering silence and a hopeful gleam in your eye, he used his hands to guide your hips down on his cock.

When he bottomed out inside you, you both let out a mutual sigh of relief. The feeling was long overdue, and you were growing impatient with the lack of movement almost instantly. He took one of his hands and cupped your cheek, his fingers tangling in the hair that was hanging over your face. He let his thumb dance over the soft skin, silently begging you to look at him. Your eyes drifted towards his face, but you almost wished they hadn’t. The expression he adorned was far more alluring than anything you had ever seen. It was so beautiful that you wished you could live in that moment for the rest of your life. It was excruciating.

Captivated in his face, you slowly began to rock your hips, giving both of you the pleasure you had been craving. The hand that remained on your hip tightened, fingers digging into your skin in the most delicious way. He moved his other hand to the back of your neck, pulling you towards him. You rested your forehead on his, basking in the intimacy. Although the softness was unexpected, you were thoroughly enjoying being so close to him. You steadied yourself with a palm on his shoulder, your other hand clasped around his arm that was holding you to him. “Does that feel good, angel?” He asked, voice low and full of lust. “This is what you wanted?”

“God, yes.” You groaned, the feeling of him inside you amplified even further by the sound of his voice. With every roll of your hips, he used extra force to bring you down onto him, just for an added effect of pleasure. The tip of his cock was hitting your cervix as you moved, making up for the slow pace by intensifying the sensation.

“I could fuck you all day,” he muttered, tightening his grip on you a bit more. “All of those pretty noises, those pretty faces… you’re driving me crazy, y/n.” He confessed, taking a sharp intake of breath as you sunk down on him again. “Feel so fucking good.” His hand snaked down to your back, pulling your body closer to him. You straightened yourself up, bracing your hand on the back of the couch for better support.

Your chest was now eye level with him, and in his true nature, he couldn’t pass up an opportunity. He ghosted a few kisses over your collarbones, gently sucking marks into the delicate skin, and even leaving a gentle bite when the moment permitted. He worked his way down to your breasts, pulling a hardened nipple into his mouth. The new sensation was overwhelming, making your eyelids flutter closed and your head to fall back in bliss. Being loved by Jake in any way was blissful, and how you were feeling was reflective of the thoughts that had already been swarming your head. Before you could succumb to any more ponderings, he gently bit down on the nipple he had been focusing on, causing you to let out a sharp gasp of shock. You could feel him smiling against you as you did so, forcing an eye-roll from you. He was still an asshole, but it was oddly charming. You couldn’t find it within yourself to be annoyed with him.

Instead, you upped your antics, rolling your hips faster and coming down on him harder. The new pace made it impossible to hold back any noises, the room filled with slurs of moans and the sound of skin on skin. You could tell he was enjoying it, too. The low groans that were muted by his mouth on you only drove you to work harder. Knowing you were pleasing him was orgasm-inducing. His fingertips were searing into your skin, his hold equivalent to that of someone who was taking life-saving measures. You were both worked up, your bodies begging you to succumb to the orgasms you so desperately wanted. Neither of you were willing to end such a fantastic moment so soon, one that had been bound to happen for a length of time. You wanted it to last forever, even if it was impossible. The thought of living in the cloud of bliss he was consuming you with was a comfort, almost as if nothing could ever go wrong as long as he never left.

“Baby,” he breathed, making an attempt to slow your hips but failing miserably. As much as he wanted to hold back, he was too far gone to slow down. “Gotta slow down, m’gonna cum.” He warned. The burning in the pit of your stomach reached a new level, his words only driving you to go faster. You knew it wouldn’t be long before you came undone, too. When you showed no sign of stopping, his head fell back into the couch cushion in a show of defeat. “Y/n.” He let out another warning, but it was too late. With a few more seconds of continuous movement, you had reached your peak. Your fingers grasped at him, holding yourself up as you cried his name. Your climax seemed to break the willpower he possessed. He brought both hands to your hips, muttering a few curses as he came, too.

“Fuck, Jake.” You moaned, trying to ride the high for as long as you could. As your hips came to a stop, you expected a whirlwind of comfort, for him to hold you close and enjoy the bare intimacy of the post-orgasm low. Instead, it was as if a new man were below you. In one swift motion, he shifted and roughly laid you down on the couch without ever withdrawing. As if it were instinct, you wrapped your legs around him, an invitation for whatever he was doing. When you caught sight of his eyes, you realized the soft Jake you’d seen previously had dissipated. The persona was replaced by a feral look, sex-crazed and angry with his loss of control.

“You don’t know how to fucking listen?” He growled, looking over your face for a hint of discomfort. Your features held shock, but no doubt that you wanted to continue. He used a free hand to arrange a throw pillow by your head, ensuring your comfortability despite his annoyance. “I told you, sweetheart, you don’t get to call the shots.” He reminded.

“M’sorry, sir.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed that you’d pissed him off so badly, but when you looked deep enough into his eyes, you could tell his facade was just as such: an act. He wasn’t willing to walk away from you so soon, orgasm or not. You hadn’t really derailed any plans, because he’d already been certain he’d fuck you for as long as he possibly could.

“Are you?” He pried, supporting his weight on the cushion below you. The new position was delightful; he had never looked more ethereal than when he was on top of you. “Or are you just saying it because you want me to let you cum again?”

“I mean it.” You promised, completely entranced by his beauty. He was having a hard time keeping the tough exterior up, watching you look at him with so much admiration. Behind the act, he was looking at you just the same.

“Prove it, then. Be a good girl for me, okay?” He said. “Can you do that, angel?” You gave a nod, but realized your mistake before he could chastise you for it.

“Yes, I can, sir.” You promised.

“I know you can, baby.” He hummed. “You know your colours?” You watched him for a moment, waiting for him to speak again. “Green means you’re okay, yellow means slow down, red means stop.”

“Okay.” You agreed.

“If you can’t talk, tap me twice.” He said. Your eyebrows furrowed, questions blooming in your mind more by the second. Before you had a chance to ask any, he withdrew and slammed his hips back into you with a force that made your head spin. You let an involuntary yelp out, shocked at his suddenness, but he paid no mind to it. He was already focused on keeping his strength and his pace the same, not worried about anything else unless you were to tell him to stop.

A guttural groan sounded from you, the new angle he was hitting sending waves of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You were certain that there was nobody in the world who could make you feel that good, because you’d never experienced anything like it before. The noises you were making were filthy, absolutely sinful, and he was loving every second of it. Once you had grown used to his thrusts, he used his free hand to reach down between your bodies and find your clit again. He did so with ease, barely even struggling to keep his hand in place as he moved his hips. The added stimulation was enough to push you close to the edge again, and he barely had to work for it. Then again, he barely had to work for any of the orgasms so far. You thought, if there was such a thing as an expert at sex, he would take the crown.

You were already sensitive from the previous climaxes, making his job that much easier. He couldn’t help but let a cocky smirk grace his face, knowing he already had you where he wanted you to be. Your eyes were closed, the pleasure too much to keep them open and focused on anything. Your stomach was burning, head spinning, and lungs aching from the inability to catch your breath. “Not yet, baby.” He warned, knowing you were teetering on the edge.

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, hoping he wouldn’t make you hold it back.

“You can.” He snapped, not letting up on either of his movements.

“Jake,” you whined, not wanting to disobey the order but knowing you might not be able to control it.

“Shut up.” He hissed, applying a bit more pressure to your clit with his thumb. You clenched your teeth, a violent growl sounding from your chest at your frustration. He couldn’t expect to keep up his pace and not let you cum; the two did not coincide with each other. His request was unreasonable, but you tried your best to comply. You bit down on the inside of your lip, a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the orgasm that was so desperate to be had. It worked for a moment, the pain taking away your focus from his antics. Next was breathing, you focused your breaths to be steady, internally coaxing yourself through the process.

After a few agonizing moments, you were a mess. All of the coping techniques were useless, and you were seconds away from cumming. “Jake, I can’t.” You said again, more serious this time. He knew you weren’t joking; the redness of your cheeks and the glisten of sweat on your forehead was a dead giveaway. When he didn’t respond, you gave up hope that you could push through.

“Cum for me, baby.” He demanded. The four words were the most beautiful ones you’d ever heard. In a mess of moans that resembled more like screams, you came undone once more. Your legs locked around him tighter than before, limiting his movements as you submitted to the pleasure. As you came down, he slowly removed his thumb from you, but didn’t slow his hips. The loss of contact made it easier to deal with the overstimulation from the sensitivity. “Does that feel better?” He crooned, but his tone did not match his movement. His soft voice was an oxymoron to the power behind his hips.

“Mhm,” you managed to give him a sound of agreement, but your brain was only focused on the feeling of him inside you. It felt fantastic, but was beginning to border on pain as continued at the relentless speed. Even so, it was a phenomenal experience, and you never wanted him to stop.

“Such a pretty little whore,” he managed out amidst a moan of his own, clearly getting himself off to the state you were in. Another groan tore through you, the only way you could express your delight at his filthy nickname. Words were unable to form in your brain, any complex thought completely disappeared and was only replaced with his name. His existence was suffocating, but you loved it. It was so wonderful that you almost felt the need to thank him, even if it was slowly killing you. “Give me one more, baby. You can do it.” He attempted to sound demanding, but he was pleading with you. You were surprised he had the stamina to continue so steadily, but you knew he was getting close to another orgasm, too.

“I don’t know,” you cried, genuinely believing you had no more to give him. He took the hand that had been anchored beside you, and slowly trailed his fingers up your body. He focused on your nipple for a moment, gently pinching it and rolling it between his fingers. The feeling caused your or arch your back off the couch, allowing him deeper access to you if it was even possible. He moved on from your breast, but not after palming it and gently squeezing it in his hand. He had been so focused on pleasing you that you couldn’t even chastise him for it; the simple joy he got from the action allowed you to look past the boyish nature.

“You can, sweet girl.” He encouraged. The change from the term sweetheart was new, but very charming. The adoration laced within the words was enough to ignite the fire in you again. His hand drifted upwards still, landing gently on your neck. The touch was welcomed, but he was cautious about your comfort. “Colour.”

“Green.” You assured him.

“Remember what I said?”

“Tap twice.” He gave a nod, happy with your answer. With that, his fingers began to close on your neck, slowly but surely cutting off the blood supply to your head.

“Come on, angel.” He gave the small statement of motivation, hoping it would help you get there. Part of it was because he was desperate to see you cum again, finding it more addictive than any substance. The other part was because he was close, and he refused to give in until he was certain he’d done everything he could to please you. Your head was spinning, not dangerously enough to cause concern, but enough to heighten the insatiable fire coursing through your veins. “I need it, baby. Just one more.” He begged, throwing the dominant tone out the window.

Your heart was pounding against your chest, vision slightly blurry and mind foggy. The only thing keeping you in the realm of reality was his dulcet voice and beautiful words. His face, although shining with sweat and hair sticking to the skin, was one of the most enchanting things you had ever seen. Even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to deny him of the wish. Even as fucked out as you were, there was this small part of your brain that was screaming at you to give him whatever he wanted. It was the devil, maybe, or it was just your heart giving in to the generosity he’d shown you in the last few hours. Whatever it was, you were determined to please him, and it wasn’t hard to do.

He tightened his hold a little more, the small action enough to send you spiralling over the edge again. You let in a choked breath, trying to fill your burning lungs with a hint of air as your legs shook and your eyes squeezed shut. “That’s it,” he groaned. “That’s my girl.” He held his grip until he reached his peak, too, and you both rode the high together. He gradually let go of the pressure he was holding on with, allowing the blood flow to resume and bring you back to earth. Once you had relaxed against him, your mind was able to produce thought again. Your chest slowed, finally suffice with the amount of air in your lungs. You opened your eyes, immediately met with the sight of his smiling face.

You couldn’t help but give one back, finding his joy incredibly infectious. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips. You reached up, pulling him closer to you. He slowly let himself down, resting on top of you. You were a mess of sweaty bodies and tangled limbs, but completely content with the position and comforted by the intimacy. He was still resting inside of you, not caring about the mess you’d both made. He just wanted to be close to you, and you did, too. He broke the kiss, instead letting his lips trail over any available body part. You quickly realized that out of every version of Jake you knew, aftercare Jake was your favourite. Every movement was laced with care and love, making sure that every crude action or word was known to be an act. Your body was exhausted, your mind was, too, but you were more than willing to stay awake all night just to be able to continue experiencing the affection.

“Glad I stayed?” He asked, smiling against the skin of your collarbone. You rolled your eyes, but let out a small laugh.

“I think you just need me to want you.” You joked, but he didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I do.” He agreed, looking up at you through strands of messy hair. “Of course I do.” Your stomach sank, rattled by the blunt honesty. “It’s the best feeling in the whole world.”

No devils advocate for the sinful desire could overpower the guilty conscience that took over. Jake felt the same for you as you did for his brother, and it was gut wrenching to realize that no matter what destination the road was leading to, it would still be painful for someone. As certain as you were for your love for Sam, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were falling for Jake, fast and incomprehensibly hard. In attempt to ward the thoughts away, you pulled him into your chest again. You wrapped him in a hug filled with emotion, an apology hidden deep within the action. You held him there for long enough that it made the revelations disappear.

Wake up in the morning,

see your sunrise loves to go down

[mrs-monaghan]

I need advice, please, you never answer my asks, even though you do with tkkrs spewing lies and hate. Please, I used to love every Jikook interaction, but since a while ago, I can't do it without thinking about how 99% of the fandom are tkkrs and hate JM. I want to enjoy their moments like you do, but it hurts so much to see all the hate JM receives. Sometimes I wonder if JK is worth it...like JM would be free if he dated someone else...tkkrs only want JK to be TH's sex toy, and if JM is with someone else, at least we could enjoy Jikook even if it's them just being friends. Or JK could shut tkkrs up sometime and try to defend Jimin...I gave up on TH confirming Jennie, he's a coward and doesn't want to lose his fans (tkkrs), so he's going to keep doing fanservice namedropping JK everytime he needs it... please, what is your secret? how can I enjoy jkk again? why are there so many people that believe JK is TH's boyfriend if JM is the one he loves? really, everything is so frustrating. Poor JM, I'm tired

Maybe I dont answer your asks because you say things like "maybe Jimin should find someone else" Matter of fact, let it be known to everyone: I delete all such asks. Or any asks that sound remotely like anti JK. Jimin loves who he loves. He is head over heels for this man. Get with the programme or move the fuck on. Coz your fav aint never gonna drop JK just coz u want him to. And I personally figure that is common sense. So anytime I get an ask saying JK doesn't deserve Jimin I don't even finish reading that shit. I delete. So I'm sorry you're upset anon, but if this is how u talk everytime then that's why I have never answered u.

That being said, anon pointed out how I have time to reply to antis n tkkrs. I'm sure some of u who have sent me good Jikook asks probably wonder the same thing. Why does she reply to them but hasn't answered my ask from months ago? This is a fair question. Apart from my current situation 🤰🏽 I may not have time sometimes. And some of your asks require research. Some of your asks are so good they deserve time and thought put into them. Meanwhile insulting a piece of vermin or an anti is easy. I don't have to think when talking smack to these assholes. I don't need to research anything. Plus its very satisfying and takes 0 effort on my end. So that's why it seems like I prioritise them.

Answering a good ask and answering it properly, could take all day sometimes. As much as I love doing it, it requires a lot of time and effort. So yeah, incase any of u was frustrated about how u sent a good ask a long time ago and yet I seem to have time for antis, thats why. That, and people who send links. Those asks are easy n take no time at all.

I'm sorry guys. Really.

But anon, u asked for advice on how to enjoy Jikook moments despite the existence of tkkrs.

I will start by taking you back to this post I made when all hell broke loose that one time. It is incredibly important that people remember: your feelings are not Jimin's. This is the man who in 2018 was sent a death threat and he said that Armys were more worried about this person than he was. That he was alright and that no one should worry.

Quickly, lets pay attention to this part one more time

His fans were more concerned than he was. I do believe this to be the case 1000% right now too. You are more worried about the vermin than he is. You are more worried about Jikook antis, than he is. He doesn't care. If he cared he would pull away from JK. If he cared we wouldn't be getting a Jikook documentary. If he cared why would be continue providing Jikook content despite knowing some people will not receive it very well??? Despite knowing there are people who wanna kill him for hanging with JK?

If he cared we would be starved for moments on official content. He would keep away from JK if antis were affecting him. Period. There is no "poor Jimin." He's more than okay.

Anon, my advice is to keep this in mind. This is what I do. Jimin doesn't care, so neither do I.

So instead I laugh at them and mock them because they are just wasting their time and energy. No amount of hate and death threats are gonna stop Jimin from loving those he loves. And this is the truth.

Plus, why be concerned with people who believe members hate each other? Like in what world does that make sense?? Anon, you have seen the fuckery i share on this blog. These people are brainless and stupid. As we speak they claim that wasn't JK with Jimin in Tokyo. How can u take such people seriously??? I know I don't. I can't. For me to even consider the shit coming out of your mouth you have to make sense and tkkrs dont make any fucking sense.

So my advice, this is up to you and you only. Its is up to u to treat these people like the mental cases they are; by not taking them seriously. Report, block and move on. Go watch a happy Jimin compilation or something. If u can't take the hate, then unfollow all report pages, mute key words, stay on the clean side of twitter. Believe u me, it exists. Curate your timeline anon, it is possible. Even on twitter.

I promise you Jimin does not care. He used to but he sure as hell doesn't anymore. You remember this crucial part, and you will be able to enjoy Jikook in peace.

Plus, if you've been paying attention to JK, you will notice he doesn't feed tkkrs. He really doesn't. Not like in the past. And the dude has made it clear he doesn't like them... not even a little bit. And can u blame him? Look at you and how u feel. Now imagine JK, Jimin's boyfriend seeing this hate. Imagine how he feels. You can tell he ain't about tkkrs. Especially this year. Even they know it and so they rely on V for tkk content. (Denying them moments is the most JK can do. Interfering or trying to shut them up wouldn't work. If it didn't work with V, twice, it won't work with JK either)

This is the only advice I can give u. Hope u heed it. Because no one deserves their BTS experience taken away from them. Xoxo

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

In the dead of night, when it's dark

2.3k Words written in less than two hours, I don't promise anything, but heartfelt confessions. Might write a follow up, who knows.

ᓚᘏᗢ

It was quiet inside. Outside, too.

There seemed to be no soul alive in Loch Nora at midnight. 

In times like these, nights like these, Steve would put on some music, turn on as many lights as he could, turn on the TV, look for something to reorganize, pretend there was someone else with him. He very much wished he could do that.

Instead the lights were off. All the lights, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, street, neighbors' homes. A full power outage, only god knows how far out. There weren’t even any insects, or rain, or a soft breeze to cover up the eerie, consistent, unavoidable silence. It filled Steve’s head completely.

He thought of radioing anyone through a Walkie-Talkie, but it was a school night. During finals week. And Robin had a very important exam in a class she was sure she would fail if she did not get at least an B+. So he did not. He tried to find something to do, but the light from the moon was not enough to light his house, and he was reorganizing his linen closet, so his hallways were a mess.

So Steve sat in a mess of a hallway, with only his thoughts for company. They were very bad company.

That’s when his phone rang.

He was so taken aback, it took him a second to react. It then took his thirty to reach his nearest phone while trying not to faceplant into the floor.

“Hello?” He nearly yelled into the phone.

“Please tell me I didn’t wake up.” Steve immediately recognized that voice as Eddie’s. He stood straight as a Pavlovian response.

“Not at all. I was just… relaxing.” Steve tried really hard not to cringe at himself.

“At the witching hour, color me surprised.”Eddie teased.

“Yeah, sure.” He answered, not fully sure what that was and having a feeling he did not want to know.

“Listen, I’m going to be upfront, and just ask,” Eddie started,speaking very fast. “I was just going to ring you and if you did not answer I was just going to hang up because I really needed to talk to you, but I did not want to wake you. So it felt like the best way of making sure you were awake, and I would not have done that if it was not really important, because it is.”

“And now that I’m thinking about it, I do realize I could’ve used the Walkie-Talkie to see if you were awake because it is less disrupting than calling, but then I would have risked some of the sheeps to hear me and I-” he stopped for a second, taking in a deep breath. “I might be rambling now.”

“I don’t mind, though,” Steve said quietly, because it’s true. He did not mind, in fact, he wished he could make Eddie talk for hours on end for him. Eddie laughed nervously.

“I know it’s very late, but there was no other time to ask this,” Eddie explained. Steve felt a kind of nerves that made his fingertips tingle in just the right way. A good nervous, if that existed. “Can you help me study?” 

He should have been disappointed when Eddie asked that. After all, hearing your crush is nervous, not because he wanted to confess to you, but because he has an exam in about eight hours he forgot should be infuriating. But instead, Steve felt giddy. He could not help the smile that formed in his lips, but he was silently thankful Eddie could not see him right now.

“Why? Did you forget you had an exam?” Steve teased.

“Listen, it should be illegal to force the guy who was just given a discharge from the hospital a week ago exams while he’s still recovering.”

“Oh, yeah, I definitely agree,”Steve drawled, sliding into the floor again. “Why are you studying at midnight anyways.”

“I have been studying since this afternoon, thank you very much.” Eddie defended himself, with too much energy for it being so late at night.

“So why do you need my help?” 

“There’s no energy here.” Eddie grumbled. “I kinda need light to study. I figured I could maybe go to your house and continue studying there.” It sounded pleading, a part of Steve’s heart lamented not having energy solely because it made Eddie a little bit sad.

“I would love nothing more, Eds,” Steve started. “But there is also no energy here.”

“No way.''Eddie explained, it sounded like a knee jerk reaction. Something he did not even know he was going to say. “Are you telling me your parents couldn’t even buy a power generator?”

“I was asking myself that right now.

“Well, I guess that is a sign of the universe to not study anymore.” Eddie said, stretching his back out.

“Maybe you can come here anyways.” Steve blurted, before even realizing it.

And the silence was back.

Steve cursed himself mentally. The exhaustion, added to the unbearable silence and the lifeboat that is Eddie’s energy made him weak for a moment.

“That was a joke.” Steve said, trying to not make things awkward.

“What if I didn’t want it to be a joke, sweetheart?” Eddie drawled, making Steve’s heart race like a marathon. “Can I still come to Casa Harrington?” Steve could have very easily followed the joking energy, tease and joke, and hide his feelings under a rug.

But as I said, he was weak at the moment, and nothing good happened after midnight.

“You can always come over, Eddie.” he said, sounding too sincere, and being too tired to care. “In fact, I wish you came over all the time, that way I can hear talk and talk, forever and ever. Just say whatever you want to say, fill the silence I have.” Eddie laughed again. Normally Steve loved his laugh, but this sounded nervous. He wondered how many other laughs Eddie had.

“Sometime I wish I could just invite you over.” He continued. “You only come when you are invited by someone else, you never come by your own accord, but you have this power, Eddie.” He was fully lying on the floor by now, three months of 4 hours of sleep a night catching up.

“What power is that, Stevie?” Eddie asked breathlessly.

“You make every room you’re in alive.” He answered. “My house is so dead most of the time, I bet, and I would be right, that you can fix that.”

“So you only like that I make rooms alive? What does that even mean?” Eddie said. Steve wondered if he was playing with his hair, like he normally did when he was nervous.

“Don’t say only, it takes away from it,” Steve explained. “It means you bring this energy, I can never take my eyes off you. You have gone through so much, and yet you still have energy. I could pay you to talk to me. About whatever, whenever, I just love your voice.” A part of Steve’s brain begged him to stop, but he ignored it.

“I know y9ou are lying, now,” Eddie said, making Steve frown. “No one likes how much I speak. Which they should not, by the way. I talk a lot as a way to rebel to the machine that wants to quiet us.”

“I’m not a liar, Eds.” Steve said. “And I was also told I had a special something. Maybe that includes liking pretty boys talk a lot.” Steve’s heart beat so loud, he wondered if Eddie could hear it.

“If you don’t tell me you’re joking, I’ll drive to your house.” Eddie threatened, making Steve smile.

“Do you want me to tell you where the spare key is?” Eddie laughed, a sincere laugh now.

“Be there in five minutes,” Eddie said.

“It takes 20 to get from your house to mine,” Steve shot back.

“I said what I said, see you now.” And then the line was dead.

Steve could not move. He felt as conflicted as he had ever felt. His brain told him Eddie would come over just to tear apart his feelings, but his heart…

His heart told him that last laugh Eddie made, it meant something. Like a secret message he had to decode, but he still had a missing piece. That does not mean he can’t see the details, the details told him, Eddie might feel the same.

So he sprung up, and threaded the hallway slowly, trying very hard not to knock something down or trip somehow. By the time he reached downstairs, he heard a familiar motor.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs as the motor died, the music cutting immediately, and a door open. He heard a thud, like Eddie jumped out of the van, he could nearly see it. He felt the steps, the metallic door close, his sneakers against the pavement of the driveway, hesitation, then a knock on the door.

He opened the door to see Eddie standing there. Even with no light, he could recognize his wild hair, up in a ponytail. 

“Hi,” Eddie spoke, quieter than normal.

“Come in,” Steve stepped away to let Eddie inside, then closed the door. “That was less than five minutes.

“No traffic lights,” Eddie joked.

“Do you want to go out to the pool? I bet the moon is shining.” Steve suggested, Eddie nodded. At least Steve thought he nodded, since he could barely make out a faint silhouette. “Give me your hand, then” 

And Eddie did.

Steve guided them out back. Opened the door to the fresh outdoors, where it was only him, and Eddie and the moon.

“Steve, please tell me what you said earlier was not a lie.” Eddie said as soon as they stepped outside.

“Let’s go sit, first.” Steve said. “I need this to be said while I’m looking properly at you. So Steve guided them to the edge of the empty pool. Still holding Eddie’s hands, he sat down.

“We are sitting now.” Eddie stated, biting his bottom lip. It was not ‘sexy’ or appealing in any way. But it was so plainly Eddie, Steve could not help the warmth in his heart.

“What I said before is only a fraction of what I feel.” Steve explained. “When you called, I was drawing in silence so I couldn’t help but say what I really felt. You really make things better by just being.”

“You have to know what it feels like you’re saying.” Eddie said.

“I’ll say it plainly,” Steve answered. “I really like you Eddie. In a romantic way, and I have for some time now.”

“But you have dated so many chicks.” Eddie complained, trying to make sense in his brain.

“I don’t know what I am. I don’t have the name, I don’t think it matters.” Steve said softly, like a whisper. “I like you, and above anything else, I want to be by your side, as your friend or as more, or as less, I don’t care.”

“Is this some sort of joke, because of all the rumors about me.” The moonlight illuminated Eddie’s eye showing something akin to fear. Like a barrier that lied between belief and where he currently stood that made it impossible to trust the words Steve said.

“There is no joke, and I am not laughing.”

“Do you believe in fate, Steve?” Eddie asked, Steve smiled.

“I used to, I don’t know if I do anymore.” Steve said, completely sincere. “Do you?”

“I stay up late studying the night there is a power outage and I call you when you so happen to be awake to answer, and say just the right things to reach a point where you say you like me.” Eddie rambled. “There is not a lot to explain.” Steve hummed in agreement. Eddie continued talking, using his free hand to gesture wildly. “Like, tonight I was so stressed because I really don’t want to fail my class and I call the guy I like and this happens, so I just wonder sometimes.”

“So you like me?” Steve asked. Eddie put his hand down and looked over the forest.

“I still don’t know how much I believe this is not a joke.” Eddie said, and Steve tried not to get sad about it. “Because I really like you, and I can’t take another heartbreak. My ribs were already broken, after all.” And Steve laughed, and Eddie smiled, and it seemed right.

“Would a kiss convince you?” Steve asked teasingly, a smirk on his face, leaning over Eddie, watching his blush under the moonlight.

“Only one way to find out.” Eddie answered, holding Steve’s gaze until he looked down at his lips and Steve leaned in.

And it’s short. The kiss. It’s sort of chaste, and Eddie does not know what he’s doing because all other kisses he has had before were not with anyone he cared about but he did not have time to worry about that before they were kissing and before it was over. But it felt like everything.

And then the lights came back on.

“Oh, that’s good timing.” Steve commented. “Do you still want to study?”

“I forgot my books.” Eddie answered. “But I think I’ll be fine.”

“I bet you will.” Steve said. “Do you want to stay the night?”

“Wow, Stevie, at least take me to dinner first.” Eddie teased.

“If you want to drive back at 1 a.m., be my guest.” Steve joked. And Eddie laughed yet a different laugh, one that fills Steve's heart.

“I would love to stay in one of your plentiful rooms, my liege,” Eddie joked, “If only you could show the way, sir Stevie.” 

“I like that one, by the way.” Steve said. “Stevie, I like it.” Steve finally let go of Eddie’s hand to stand up, and offered it away. Eddie took it immediately.

“I like it, too.” And he really did. But a part of him still doubted.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” Steve reassured him like he knew what he was thinking. “You have an important exam tomorrow.”

“Okay.” So Eddie went to sleep in the bedroom across from Steve, no longer afraid for tomorrow, but awaiting it. Knowing it will be okay.

[voidedaurora]

Sorry if this is annoying. But I've always known you as Mel's close friend, what happened between the two of you to prompt a seperation? I read the part where Mel apparently falsely accused you of pressuring her into yknow. But where's the proof of her accusing you of that?

Sorry if this sounds like i'm defending her or that i'm skeptical of your story. I'm just extremely confused, feel free to ignore this. (I have a bad experience with Mel too sooo TT)

I haven't actually spoken publicly about the circumstances of why our friendship ended (mainly because she'll cry and piss herself saying it was meant to stay private) but in SHORT, Mel and I's friendship ended because of me venting to friends about her (in simple terms), The venting admittedly did get into pretty spiteful territory at times but it was only that bad because mel had been treating me like garbage for the past few months, swapping back n fourth from treating me like her best friend in the world to completely ignoring I existed. Aswell, not that this EXCUSES anything I was saying but I do have really bad BPD and one of the main triggers for it was whenever mel would ignore me randomly, I let her know time and time again that it was a trigger and that I couldn't handle her doing that and she'd reassure me, but ofc she never accommodated for that but expected me and everyone else to work around her own issues. Additionally I'd like to mention from early April (4th) until the day she left (04/30/2024) I'd been on narcotics, these really didn't mix well with my BPD but I needed them since I was in horrible pain from the surgery, they made me quite emotional, irrational, "out of it", and generally just got rid of any filter I had up

The friendship was honestly doomed to fail with her refusing to communicate EVER, she likes to talk about how she has communication issues but there's a difference between an issue and refusing to do it period, I tried time and time again to talk about any problems we had with us or just our friendship with her but every time she'd either brush me off, make excuses, ignore me, or get mad. To get back on topic, The venting or "shittalking" became a huge problem when the 2 ex friends I'd been venting to decided I was evil or something and went to go show mel all of what I'd been PRIVATELY venting about and frame everything to be that I hated her or something, obviously once I caught wind of this I tried my best to talk to her about it, apologizing, etc. But she simply ignored me, Shortly after all of that the two Ex friends had cut me off, preaching how "shittalking is horrible!! ur mentally ill and that's a crime" . It's notable to mention that throughout the whole thing if any of the two were uncomfortable, thought I was doing/saying too much, etc. they could've communicated and told me so. After the two Ex friends left ,Mel stayed around to get her Pastel VRchat model from me (since I was the one who'd set the thing up for the most part), then she ignored me for a while longer before dropping me after I'd dmed her to ask to just talk about everything. She then apparently went to her friends trying to convince everyone I was some psycho?? aswell one of the Ex friends was cherrypicking screenshots and tried to frame me for blackmail? (as in they were trying to say I was trying to blackmail Mel)

Obviously I have my parts in contributing to our friendships end but alot of it is on mel and her refusal to communicate with me, I didn't even touch on the way I'd been treated very deeply either. 🧡

And with that other part asking where she accused us of pressuring her, It's stated here "Mel felt she was repeatedly asked to engage in sexual interactions with Clovxr & Voided." Which in fancy words is her saying she felt pressured

I'm just going off of what's publicly available since she wouldn't talk to me about it herself, though do remember she didn't actually write anything in the PDF I'm using the screenshot from, It was written by her "unofficial lawyer" aka Gaia

[positivelybeastly]

Does Hank ever get happy when someone gets angry on his behalf?

"If I had my way, no-one would get angry at anyone for anything. We'd all sit down, take a deep breath, and talk about our issues and work out a solution, like adults."

". . . That being said. There is a degree to which it is . . . appreciated, to have other people stand up for you."

Oh, he absolutely does. The thing about Hank is that he is, by nature and by necessity, loud. He is a bright blue man covered in thick fur with claws and fangs, he is loud by his very existence, and that pairs well with his natural extroversion, but he also forces himself to be loud to fill a room and control the narrative, as it were.

If you're paying attention to him being an obnoxious nerd or a chattering wit or a goober or a sarcastic peanut gallery, you aren't paying attention to everything else going on, and Hank prefers that.

And yet, in spite of this, he very much can have his moments of shyness. Where a social situation crops up where he doesn't know what to do to navigate it, and he just. Hits the eject button.

Hank is a consummate, perpetual performer. He fills a room. But that betrays a need for attention and validation, and when he doesn't get that? When his tactics don't work? He doesn't quite know what to do. He's used to a certain amount of eyes on him, a certain mood, a certain tone, and when that tone shifts, he can go to emotional extremes to get himself back where he wants to be - sometimes he retreats, and other times he feels obligated to try change it back, play it loud, dictate the situation. It's something he does a lot, especially during his time on the Avengers.

And it's something that does start to stop as he grows older, more secure in himself - something with coincides with him becoming recognised more and more for his genius and his ability and his accomplishments - because, well, he doesn't have to act out as much.

But it does still flare up from time to time, if he's in an emotionally taxing situation. He vacillates between quiet and making a scene, and it can be hard to predict which one he's going to go for next, because it's all dependent on his emotional processes, which can be a bit - erratic.

He flipped from making a scene with the opera house staff, to leaving without even a word when he had an opportunity to leave. He was quiet with Kitty in the cafe for a while, and then he exploded. It's very easy to see why Grant Morrison characterised him as bipolar, and it's a characterisation I agree with and that I play to.

But, the most direct example of Hank liking it when someone is angry on his behalf comes from New X-Men . . .

The little !!! around his figure when Emma becomes absolutely massive in the mindscape - he isn't expecting this. He's literally not even thinking about what that journalist said, because he's heard it all before and it's just water off a duck's back at this point for him, but for Emma?

She will not let it stand.

And this goes even further than you might think, because Emma is a character with high standards and a very select group of friends. She is not easy to get close to. She does not have many people that she will defend, loudly, vociferously, without prompting.

It's really, really clear that Hank was touched by this, and I like that Emma doesn't shy away from his psychic 'physical' contact here, because she knows that Hank respects and likes her, that he's expressing his appreciation for their bond. These two are very emotionally complex, and the fact that Emma is allowing Hank to touch her here, and would later even initiate touch, is important.

Compare and contrast with . . .

Which is all a very long way of saying, yes. Hank very much does like it when you stand up for him, even if he'll only express it quietly. He feels it even more than you think he does. He will remember.