#I don’t think people understand how badly and permanently you can fuck someone up even from just giving them a concussion

[nocturneofrecollection]

I think mostly car culture but also the internet has irreparably stunted people’s ability and care to drive well it’s insane how many people will openly brag about being a dangerous driver like it’s fun and quirky and not something that gets people killed in the thousands every year. Some laws are unjust but i promise you distracted driving and speeding laws are there for a reason not just to make your day a teeeeny bit harder

[tojikai]

Okay I finally finished all of your stories!

Permanent mark is officially my favorite:,)

Thoughts;

See at one point, i was like let y/n heal and have them get together afterwards but then i was like “damn he fucked rie for two months 💔😔😟” and idk but something about her’s and suguru’s relationship is so tragic to me, i so badly wanted them together somehowReader should’ve gotten with suguru! I wanted their endgame so badly 😭💕 Everyone feels bad for satoru but nope i mostly feel bad for y/n and suguru, I wish they would’ve gotten together first, I don’t hate y/n either her, I saw some people hating on her and while i disagree on her sleeping with satoru while he has a gf, i can’t find myself to dislike her, and she actually might be my favorite “y/n” of yours.

both sundered and permanent mark satoru’s are so confusing and make me sigh deeply

Questions I have regarding the story surprisingly 😅:

- What was satoru whole thought process during the breakup and cheating

- Did he still love y/n at that point

- What was his reasoning

- Did he think abt y/n while rie/regret or like want her?

- Why did he put her over y/n??

- Basically what’s up with the whole situation

- Did he ever love y/n over her? Why would he break up with y/n over her?

- Did he love or want her more? Regarding rie

- Did y/n not make him happy anymore, what happened?

- Was there problems in their rs?

Note:

Thank you in advance if you answer, i probably already said this but your stories were a delight to read<33

I can’t wait to read the future stories you might have in store for us if you do:3

its nice that some people try to understand pm!yn and her actions. I also think it's understandable that many are frustrated about what she did. most of the characters in pm are driven by strong emotions that they made bad decisions, i could say its the theme of the whole story. they can be very confusing since not everything's mentioned explicitly, which i deliberately did bc i like that readers have to absorb something in order of them to really understand it. im happy you enjoyed pm !! 1. tbh satoru's mind was a mess the whole time, he hated himself for cheating on yn. at one point he felt like the breakup was meant to happen so he could finally be w rie but w rie he felt like something's wrong, almost as if he's still considering yn in everything he does in his new rs. he reached a point where he doesn't know if it's really what he wants or if he's just doing it bc it's already there. hearing abt suguru and yn shook him into clarity lmao

2. he still loves yn even when he was w rie.

3. like reason for going w rie? he thought thats what he wanted. he felt like it would complete something he never got to finish, but being away from yn took a bigger part of him than he thought it would.

4. he's always thinking abt yn even when he was w rie. he thought its just bc he felt guilty for cheating. but it was more than that. while he felt right being w rie, it's just different w yn. nothing feels wrong w yn whilst w rie, there's always a feeling that he's not really into it.

5. bc he thought that it was the right thing to do since he became rie's bf. satory appreciated her a lot when she stood w him even when everyone's judging them. he felt like she risked everything just to be w him and so he wanted to put out something equal.

6. lmao idk how to answer this but yeah ik, it's messy.

7. nobody asked satoru directly but if someone did, he'd be admitting to himself that he loves yn more than rie even when he and the latter were in a rs. he broke up w yn bc 1.) he already cheated, 2.) he thought he wanted to be w rie. 3.) bc he didn't think things through.

8. he loved rie. just not the way he loves yn and not as much.

9. he's the happiest w yn. he didn't realize it immediately when he left bc his and rie's rs was still young and it was still honeymoon phase and cloud9. after that, he had questions and lingering thoughts and feelings that he chose to push aside until he snapped (hearing abt sugu and yn)

10. no, there are no problems in their rs. that's why yn crashed out.

that's all !! thank you so much for the kind words and support ~!! <33

[therealityhelix]

Shards of the Nexus: Applesauce pt. 4

Everybody tries.

@cardwrecks​ @captainbaddecisions​

?~?~?~?~?

The time whizzed by as he wondered what he was going to do now.

“You baleful, deleterious, idle-brained douche bag! “

Oh. Die, that's what.

He turned just in time for Narci to grab him roughly by the shirt. The kid was shorter than him by a decent amount, but strong enough to twist his head off, and he felt his toes leave the floor.

“Hey, watch the threads!” he protested in a watery voice. Narci shook him like a rattle.

“Fuck your threads! I'll burn down your closet! I'll burn down your whole life!” Narci exclaimed, then shuddered so hard, his black ponytail shook. He set Swag back down, very carefully, and released his clothes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. But just...how could you? You're supposed to be the best of us. How could you?”

“I'm not the best of anything, Narci.” Swag said, leaning against the bar to let his heart rest, ignoring the sticky mess that still dripped. “I'm not a role model. Not really. I'm a fuckup in good clothes. I mean, it's not that I don't try, it's that when I make mistakes, they are really big mistakes that get people hurt. Helix. Harvey. Puzzles. You. Fuck, I coulda done something for you, way back. But I turned you away. I was too busy pretending I had no obligation to anyone else but myself to see how everything was connected. That I could at least try to help someone who should have been like a little brother. I...the idea of me is far better than the actuality of me.”

“Swag. You know you couldn't have really done anything for me back then, right? I would have just killed you instead.” the wavering tone was back, a permanent feature in his voice. “Mine was a sickness that couldn't be cured with human hands. And part of me is missing now. I didn't come back whole. Maybe I'm better this way. But you...why did you hurt her? I don't understand that. Her hand is so badly burned that our medicines did nothing! She was crying so much, and she couldn't actually tell me. What did you do? And why?”

“It wasn't supposed to go down like this. It was supposed to...I don't even know. I never meant it to hurt her, I'd never...I'd never mean to do that. I just started thinking down the wrong road, and I got swept away. I try not to do that. It always goes bad. Now, I know a lot of you think I've allowed myself to dumb down, and Unswag doesn't hesitate to point out that I don't allow myself to think, but-”

“It's an attempt at self control.” Narci stated. “I know. I know.”

Narci's new eyes had been pleas for help since the moment he'd opened them. Swag believed him.

“Got paranoid. Got serious about it. Got this dumb thing.”

Swag showed Narci the little wire. He'd twisted it around his left ring finger, like a true fool.

Narci, possessed of the simian curiosity writ large in Edwards Nigma the multiverse over, grasped his hand for a better look.

For the next few minutes, Swag held Narci's lifeless body in his arms, whispering grief and apology. If Helix had been mad at him before, she really was going to turn him inside out now. She was ready to fistfight Satan himself for this kid.

The doorbell rang.

This was the worst possible time. He was in mourning, damnit! Who could even be at his door at this hour?

Swag stared up into the dark cowl, panic thumping in his blood. There was a body in his parlour. He was wearing contraband. He'd been hiding a second self. Not to mention possession of controlled substances, and the aiding and abetting of known criminals from other universes. Surely any of that would be enough to put him away again. Maybe forever and ever this time.

“What could you possibly want?” Swag asked, trying to keep his voice from trembling. He was pretty sure his hammering pulse was loud enough to be heard.

“The Nth metal, Nigma. Where is it? Why do you have it?”

“Oh this thing? This fuckin' thing? You can have it!” Swag yanked it from his finger and flung it into the parking lot. “Take it! I never wanna fuckin' see it again. Worthless scrap of shit. You want it, go get it, just leave me alone. I don't want nothin' to do with it.”

He slammed the door shut. And waited.

It didn't smash back open in his face, so it looked like he'd been taken at face value. The wire would be gone; no matter where it landed, it would be found. And good riddance.

He turned, then flung himself back against the door, heart in his throat choking off a scream. Narci's body lurched down the hall towards him, flopping and stumbling like a puppet on very loose strings.

“Narci?” Swag whispered. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sor-”

He mumbled over and over again, growing hoarser and more urgent with every shuffling step closer, until it became a hyperventilating plea as Narci pressed his drooling, slack-jawed face against Swag's chest.

“Could...n't...get...back...in...while...you...were...touch...ing...me...” The words escaped from Narci's mouth, each syllable a labored puff of air.

“I'm sorry.”

“At...least...you...grieved...”

Ooh, ooh, that cut. Because the first time, he hadn't.

No one had.

Guilt choked him silent once more, and Swag carefully, cautiously curled his arms around the boy's shoulders. Maybe he should have done this sooner. Maybe years ago.

But the second best time was now.

“D-does it hurt?”

“No...can't...feel...an...y...thing...”

“That actually sounds worse.”

“Yes...”

“Anything I can do?”

“Must...go...home...”

Swag helped him to the special door, and let him slip through, just like Helix did. It seemed the way was still closed only to Swag himself.

There was a lot of cleaning up to do, partially gelled apple goop, a broken mirror. It smelled so good that it hurt; his favorite apples reduced to a soup of memories that would now never be made. Forced to mop up what should have been a sweet song on his tongue, no more than a paraklausithyron to the world now barred to him.

He glanced at the sky while taking the trash out. Cloudy, as usual. Starlight was the rarest commodity in Gotham. Would he ever see it again?

Swag tested the door over and over during the next few days, even under the scorn of his pale twin, with whom he'd gotten into a terrible row upon returning. Just like old times.

Back and forth and back and forth, until a small hand reached out and pulled him through.

That nauseating, semi-familiar feeling of falling without moving. Stomach twisted around his spine, blood in the brain and feet, and the unbreakable, all-encompassing cold.

An eternity in an hourglass, then a shocking blast of humid heat. His glasses fogged as he gasped, gulping in the warming air.

Clutching his pinkie finger was a tiny, blue-eyed doll of a child, a little girl who, aside from her barely contained mass of curly orange hair, clearly resembled a miniature Helix.

“Hey there, Maddie-mads.” he said, taking in the lush garden around him. “How're you doing today?”

“I'm okay.” she said in her chipper, squeaky little voice. “But you're not. Momma's not either”

“Ah. I imagine not. Did she, uh, say why?”

Maddie shook her head.

“She said she made a mistake and she doesn't know how to fix it. Can you help?”

Swag rubbed the back of his neck.

“I'm...not sure this time, kiddo. I might make it worse.”

Her expression said that she didn't believe that for a second. The unwavering faith of a child. He'd had that once too. He hoped she would be able to keep it longer than he had.

It looked like he had to try.

Maddie held her hands in the air, and Swag scooped her up into his arms without really thinking about it. He looked out over Helixs hand built garden home, with its improbable, Escheresque landscapes, and soaring, vaulted glass sky. He had only been here a few times, and never very deep into the gardens, but he knew that space was warped and folded in unexpected ways; recursive paths and nested areas that one could easily get lost in forever.

He had never built a more perfectly horrifying maze. Here, if he lost his way, there was enough food and water that he could wander for the rest of his life, slowly losing hope, descending into madness. Surrounded by Eden, yet utterly, helplessly trapped.

It was frightening. She was frightening. All of this and everything about it was terrifying. It was.

And so was he. And so was Unswag, and everything he represented. And so was Arkham's undying bloodthirst, the direction Narci was taking, Puzzles' new lease on life, Nash's growing involvement with literal demons. The things YJ had almost gotten involved in, the disease that had nearly taken Detective. This whole big tightly tangled Nexus. Knowledge of the multiverse itself.

It was all an ever-expanding cosmic dread, bearing down on all their shoulders, and they each had to figure out how to handle it, because it wasn't going away.

He could look at Helix as a representative of that dread, or he could see her as yet another person upon whose shoulders that weight rested. See her as an alien being, like the Grays, or as a familiar woman whose warmth he had tasted. He could destroy a good thing, like he always did, or he could finally cherish what he actually had.

This could be his last chance.

Madeline guided him along the color-coded pebble paths, a labyrinth perhaps only she and her mother truly knew by heart. Greenery, flowers, and fruits burst joyfully on every side. An artificial stream meandered through the young trees and under small bridges. Little waterfalls trickled, and fish flashed in the water. Here and there stood a carved log, stacked rocks, suncatchers, and circles of standing stones.

Birds chirped and flitted about, Every now and then he saw a chicken, heard the braying of a goat somewhere.

Over the top of it all, a song floated like perfume on the breeze, a pair of voices entwined in haunting harmonies. One of them was Helix, naturally, of course she could sing. That was practically required of a sorceress, wasn't it?

That meant that the other voice had to be Narci, didn't it? Swag would never have guessed the kid could hold a tune, much less that his reedy, wavering voice could produce such enchanting sounds.

Maddie, cradled securely at shoulder level, loosed her own voice into the air. A string of notes akin to the birdsong, that particular pitch that only children could achieve fitted into the music with improvised ease.

Song swam through his mind. It was a compulsion, to add his voice, add himself in. To become part of the music, complete it.

He could not find the notes.

He was led to a clearing, a community center of sorts. This was a place Swag had been before. Under a tall arbor of blooming vines, tables and chairs, set up for a meal. Narci, his black curls crowned with flowers, Helix in her frilly apron, setting out the dishes. The song dying on both their lips as they noticed him approach.

Narci scowled, but Helix just gazed back at him, her expression apprehensive. Her hand was still bandaged. Narci had said that no medicine had worked on the injury.

Words clogged his throat, each one begging to be said, but reluctant to be the first.

Madeline squealed happily at the sight of the meal, and Swag put her down. She rushed over to Narci, who swept her up and sat her into her bright purple booster chair.

Swag swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“Starlight...” he managed.

“I'll set another place at the table.” Helix said.

artists: @captainbaddecisions​ @miasmacaron​ @cardwrecks​

[polyamorouspunk]

My girlfriend keeps hinting at/joking about getting married. We talked about it once before - we'd both generally be in favour, but have some differences re: having children, level of tidinesscin a home, interior design styles and idk. Stuff. Plus, we've first gotten together a literal decade ago and it's been a bit of an on and off relationship through the years (not helped by us living in different countries for like 8 of those years), and she's hurt me quite a bit on one or two occasions, and I'm still having a bit of a hard time sometimes believing that she's not just with me out of convenience and a desire for company (and knowing I'd forgive just about anything, probably, though that may be unkknd of me). So, when she mentions marriage, I don't know how to be sure she's not just worried about running out of time somehow and "settling" for me in a way. And it's really fucking difficult bc I've been thinking about marrying this person since I was 17, I want to marry her, pretty fucking badly, I'm just. Worried. That she'll end up resenting me and feeling trapped, and I'll have my heart broken once more.

I'm sending this bc your sleepover Friday thing suggests asking for advice lol but if you feel in any way uncomfortable with this, no need to respond! I also promise I won't base any life decisions on a single anonymous conversation with an internet stranger, I just thought it might be nice to get some outside perspective, insofar as that's possible from my one-sided account of the situation lol.

Anyway, have a good day/night/etc

Well reading your first paragraph, my initial reaction was “well if you don’t feel ready to marry her then don’t”. But you can want to marry someone and not be ready! My ex and I had plans to get married, but we weren’t ready at 19/20/21 etc. I’m assuming you’re older than that, and of traditional “marrying” age.

If you have been with someone for over a decade, I hope you feel comfortable enough to talk to them about how you’re feeling. While in the end my ex decided to cut me off, while dating we were fine with having open and honest conversations about marriage, even while living apart.

As someone who is polyamorous, I can understand the idea of being “trapped” in a marriage, but marriage isn’t permanent. You can very much reverse it. Is it going to suck if she decides she wants to divorce you? Yes. But is a divorce going to be more emotionally devastating than a normal breakup? Obviously there are going to be some legal stuff that goes on. In fact, at the end of the day, marriage is just a legal contract between two people. There are plenty of people in love who never get married, and plenty of people who are not in love who get married just to have joint assets, tax breaks, and an overall better financial situation. Yes, as an American society we treat marriage as the ultimate show of one’s love for someone. But in reality it’s really just a legal contract. I’m not suggesting you go and tell her “yes I would like to join our assets”. I think you should uphold the notion that marriage is romantic. But it’s not the end-all-be-all.

To me, though, someone wanting to marry someone isn’t “settling” for them. I didn’t want to “settle” for my ex when we talked about marriage: I wanted to solidify that they were my soulmate and that we would last for years (evidentially they did not feel the same lmao).

There were absolutely sacrifices I had to make to be monogamous to that one person. When they did eventually dump me, that left me free to explore things I couldn’t with them: and I learned some things about myself and what else I like in a sexual / romantic / other relationship! And that was nice! But I would have been willing to not have room to explore that to stay with them. It didn’t feel like “settling” it felt like “what I have is enough for me and I don’t need to look for more”. In terms of partners, yeah, of course I wanted to see other people, and throughout the course of our relationship I did. But I also decided that I wanted to be with them only for the time being when they broke up with me. Maybe that was a “sacrifice” but that was what I wanted.

Difference in what you want in life can be complicated, though. My ex and I agreed on everything. We knew the kind of life we wanted to lead. We “yes, and”ed each other. There was no differences on how clean we wanted to live, how many children or if we wanted children, etc. none of that. We wanted the same things, and that was important to me. I don’t know how I would feel if someone I was with wanted kids and I didn’t, or if they were fine with a messy house and I wasn’t. I can’t say for sure that it would be a “make or break” because I don’t really believe in that kind of thing outside of extremes. You can love someone in spite of their differences, but is that going to take a toll on you over the years? Possibly. I can certainly say I would much rather have someone who agrees with me on not wanting kids and wanting a clean house. I don’t want to have to compromise on those things in particular. I can compromise on what color to paint the bedroom, but not on lifestyle differences that are going to cause me internal stress I think.

I’ve also never had an on-again-off-again relationship with someone: but I imagine if I did I would want to keep them around unless I was the one breaking things off because they kept hurting me- but even then I know that I have unhealthy tendencies to want to be with people who aren’t the best. I can break things off with someone if it gets to be too bad, but it’s permanent when I do. If I’m breaking up with someone, I’m blocking them. If they break up with me, I’m blocking them. I’ve never gone back to someone I’ve broken up with. I can’t let myself get into a cycle like that because it’s too unhealthy for me. If I’m going to marry someone, I really can’t see it being someone I’ve had to break up with or who felt the need to break up with me multiple times. But that’s just me.

[t-acenda]

quitting my high-paying job and the good-kid luck

someone got promoted today.

there were announcements and congratulations in the group chat, just like how any promotion in the digital age should be celebrated.

my laptop sounded like an alarm clock with the array of notifications ringing up, typical congratulations, yada yada. but one word from my notif panel stuck with me

“dasurv”

yes that exact word, filiipino gay lingo and all

i cant say i wasnt exactly affected, but i was

thats because there were no round of congratulations when i got promoted. and that’s because nobody knew. the time i was being interviewed for my new role i was itching to get out from where i was. i didnt feel like i did a very great job at it, and i know my team mates thought so too thats why they were quick to let me out. the time i was given a choice between staying and leaving it was always a conversation geared towards making me leave:

“jo, im leaving the decision up to you. but if i were you, id take the opportunity since this will be great for you”

“oh but im gonna miss you all. id like to come back when theres a re-org, especially since re-orgs are a natural occurrence in the company”

“oh no, i think this time that will be your permanent position”

theyd even announce that i was leaving 2 months before i was set to transfer, and i havent done any interview yet for that matter.

stuff like that.

so you’d understand why i was desperate to get out. i didnt want to be in a position where nobody wanted me in, and where i feel like im dragging everyone down. 

so when the offer came-- and it was A LOT more than i imagined it to be-- all i can think about was “do i turn down the offer and stay where im not needed, or take it and suffer the internal pressure of living up to a position people are sweating their asses off for while i get it on a silver platter”

obviously i chose the latter.

and that’s what i am dealing with today.

there’s always this pressure of me trying to live up to the role, trying to earn my place in the hectic corporate world. it felt like im bryce dallas howard acting in blockbuster movies just because her dad is a director, while other better aspiring actresses are scrambling with garbage flicks just to get to the top. 

you know what im saying??

thats the reason why i want to quit this job. 

i KNOW im doing a good job, i KNOW im doing the best i can. but it doesnt feel great knowing full well other people deserve your position more than you do. it doesnt help that i accidentally spilled the tea with my old manager, wherein he reacted in the most offending way possible with complete shock, together with a “don’t tell anyone ah. you know how people talk”. thanks for reassuring me that i am not good enough to be here, thank you very much.

i am aware of how lucky i am. i am aware of the immense truckload amount of luck that i have all my life. its like god showered me a huge gigantic massive amount of glimmering luck all my life and equal parts of imposter syndrome tendencies to compensate for my lack of skill and self-belief.

and thats when i realized i had the good-kid luck. back in grade school i was the typical shy awkward kid. i had good grades and the teachers loved me for being unproblematic. i got award after award until highschool. come college, i realized i actually wasnt smart. i was just the good kid. in college, professors dont care about who the fuck you are. thats why the charm worn off. grades suffered badly despite me giving the same amount of effort that i did in my golden younger years. i was back to being antisocial, a downward curve that peaked during my highschool years.

come my first job. it was the easiest thing since graduating after college. my good-kid luck returned and my boss loved me. always telling me i was doing a great job and all. and when she recommended me for promotion before my first yr at work i was only half surprised. i knew the charm was running again but the anxiety of knowing to myself that it felt too easy and effortless killed me.

after i quit my first job, i quickly jumped to another one. another easy breezy step for the good kid since i was referred to by a friend of mine. and a year into the job here i am being promoted even though i was always lost and felt like i was highly dependent on my boss.

but on the flip side, i am here now. and no one can do anything about it. 

finally i feel like this is the role where i can redeem myself. this scope was familiar ground, i can work with it

but i sill cant help but wonder how it would feel like to quit, and actually work from the bottom to the top without any help from the good kid luck.

i want to buy a car without guilt written in the price tag. i want to go to work knowing i can introduce myself and my role without rewording it to something a little more generic.

i want to congratulate myself with a very well-thought of “dasurv”.

[herofics]

Hey! Was wondering if you did suggestive content? (I was about to put slightly but this is very much out there, still not fully down and dirty though I don't think ((unless you wanna go there? 😏/hj)) so don't worry 💀💀)

So I was wondering, Dabi, Toga and Twice separately with a gn!so, right? And the s/o is like very open and expressive with everything, very important to note that it's very, very rare to actually see them like shyly flustered for this next part 💀

So basically, one day they're like in private with their s/o and like they're in the mood and whatever and it's building up to the actual thing but like when they're like just about

The *very* open and *very* expressive and *very* confident s/o just starts acting like extremely shy and flustered / embarrassed about everything... basically just a virgin... but... times... pi. Yes. Times pi.

"Oh my god naked bodies 😃😲😳😳🤯😳🤠😳🤯😳🥳"

"OH MY GOD SEX 😟🤓🙁😎😖😥😦😲🤪🤫😐🤭🤭🤗🤪🤗😝😗🥲🥰☺🥰🙃🙃🥰☺😅😝"

"OH MY GOD WE'RE *BOTH* NAKED 🤯🥳🤠🥳🤠🥳🤠🤯🥵🤠🥵🤯🤠😥🤠😥"

"STOP WHAT IF I DONT DO IT RIGHT 💀💀💀💀"

"UHH ARE YOU SURE ABOUT LIKE... DOING... *THIS*???? 😩😫🤯🥳😈😳😳😳😳"

Puts their arms around their head (kinda like deku actually! Just remembered he does that with homegirl uraraka) and just blushes at the fact that they're maybe, possibly, PERHAPS gonna go down. Honestly also just thinks about how beautiful their s/o is all the while 😇

PLS IM SORRY FOR THIS ITS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR AGES AND IF UR UNCOMFY I UNDERSTAND LIKE BEYOND CONPLETELY BUT AS THAT ONE IMAGE I SAW LIKE MONTHS AGO SAYS

"aw man! I can't find the fic that I want on tumblr! And not even the sickos on Ao3 have it, but I can't go about writing it myself!"

So I'm begging for help to my fav fic writer here 💀 I am so sorry that you had to be cursed with this ask 🙏 I truly am

I made you some HCs, since I didn’t feel like doing scenarios and I can fit more stuff into them. I’ve been meaning to add to the rules that suggestive stuff is okay, and I hope this is okay. Toga is aged up to 18 or over and the guys are with a partner of their own age too. I have this one NSFW Dabi post if you want something actually smutty, it’s older so probably not very good. If someone doesn’t want to see posts of this type, blacklist the tag: suggestive. Thank you for requesting this, it was fun to write

Minors stay away I guess?

~Twice/Jin Bubaigawara~

•Twice has not had an intimate relationship since his incident with the whole personality split thing

•He’s very much into you, but he hasn’t pressured or even really asked about if you would like to get intimate with him, because things are enough for him as they are

•Don’t get me wrong he’s totally down to fuck if you want to, but he doesn’t bring it up

•So when you’re a stammering, flustered mess and you’re muttering about how you don’t know what you should do or what you even like really, he’s telling you he’ll make sure you enjoy it and have a good first time

•When the clothes come off you’re sitting on his lap and he’s kissing your neck and his hands are traveling up and down your sides and back

•He keeps talking the whole time, praising you and telling you how good you’re doing, but there’s probably just a little bit of degradation thrown in there too, because that’s just how he talks and is

•So don’t take it badly, if you’re not into that, he tries to keep it to the praising though

•Twice makes sure to keep asking you if you like what he’s doing, because he needs the reassurance too

•You answer his questions, and ask if you’re doing things right and if he likes what you’re doing, but otherwise it’s all moaning and whimpering from you

•Twice doesn’t care about his own pleasure that much, he just wants to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as possible

~Dabi/Todoroki Touya~

•Dabi hasn’t had many relationships, at least not very permanent ones, it’s mostly been about sex for him with the people that came before you

•But it’s different now, he wants to prioritize someone else other than himself for the first time in a long time

•So when you’re getting a bit hot and heavy and he asks if it’s okay to go further, you’re really not sure what you should say or do

•You get super awkward and whisper super quietly “I’m a virgin”

•Dabi can’t make out what you’re saying, because you’re so quiet, so he asks you to repeat yourself

•You’re a bit frustrated, sexually and just normally, so you repeat it pretty loudly

•Dabi chuckles and goes “It’s okay sweetness, I’ll take care of you”

•It’s pretty slow going at first, because he wants you to be sure that you like what’s happening

•He probably kisses every inch of your body during the whole thing, and you’re very much reciprocating

•Dabi is taking the lead in  the situation, but he makes sure you enjoy everything he’s doing as much as he does

•He can get a bit rough at times, but it isn’t his intention to hurt you, unless you want him to of course

•He doesn’t talk much but when he does, he’s praising you, telling you how good you feel and how beautiful you are

•Afterwards he holds you close and makes sure you feel alright and that you enjoyed the whole thing

~Toga Himiko~

•Toga hasn’t actually really dated anyone before you, not seriously anyway, and even if she did, she would’ve most likely just ended up killing her partner before it got intimate

•So she’s never had sex either, but she is very interested and she thinks you’d be a great person to have her first time with and maybe even experiment a bit with

•So when you’re making out and you’re both starting to feel like you want to take it a step further you ask each other if you’re up for it

•Toga is more on the “taking initiative” side, so when she’s straddling your hips and kissing and biting on your neck, she notices you seem pretty frozen in place

•So she lifts her head and you’re bright red and you’ve wrapped your arm over your eyes

•She asks if you’re okay and you start stammering like “Yeah-yeah, I’m totally fine, nothing to worry about here, no sir, I so-so know what I’m doing”

•Toga giggles a bit, because you’re so flustered and awkward, she just asks what’s bothering you and sits on top of you still

•You kinda squirm and try to avoid the question, but Toga starts tickling you and you give in quickly because you end up barely being able to breathe

•You tell her you’re a virgin and you have no experience with this stuff, so you don’t want to disappoint her or do something wrong

•She tells you she’s not experienced either, and that you don’t know how it is until you try

•You’re both fumbling around, you more than Toga but still

•Toga is taking the lead a bit and you’re both exploring each other’s bodies, inch by inch

•Toga takes your hand and puts it on her lower belly, letting you decide where to go from there

•It’s a great time for both of you, many good times are achieved, many times in a row, by both of you

•Toga bites a lot though, so there is bound to be some blood involved, but not too much, because she is pretty much like a vampire

•In the end you’re both pretty tired, but very, very happy

[phis-corner]

statue of ice

yes i am still updating this fic lmao

main masterlist ◈ maribat masterlist ◈ ao3 link

She only lasts a few weeks before caving and telling her brother that she’s Ladybug.

The Guardian – Fu is his name – was vehemently against revealing her identity again, already annoyed that she’d told Jason. Privately, Marinette thinks that Fu can “go fuck himself”, and maybe Jason would have said it out loud, but she does not.

Instead, she ignores his wishes and tells Tim anyway.

To his credit, her brother isn’t even surprised. He just quirks a smile during their scheduled video call and says in a light voice, “I guess it runs in the family, then, doesn’t it?”

Marinette is inclined to agree. After all, what are the odds that both of them ended up being protectors of two cities?

.o0o.

A week later, Tim calls her to confirm Marinette’s suspicions that Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth.

“He’s slippery. Paid to have all the security cameras around his home removed, but I traced akuma sightings on social media and marked them on a map and what do you know, his house was right in the center of the circle. I also checked out the property. He literally has a butterfly window, Mari. Everything in his house is butterfly patterned. It checks out.”

“Thank you, Tim-Tam. I’ll take care of it from here,” Marinette says. Her mind is already working, forming a plan to take Gabriel down. Permanently.

It has to be public. The city wouldn’t believe it otherwise, and some are already accusing Ladybug and Chat Noir of creating the akumas themselves so that they can make themselves look good by defeating them.

Exposing Gabriel as Hawkmoth would cause the downfall of his company and result in the loss of thousands of jobs, but Audrey Bourgeois had a Parisian branch of Style Queen that was still fairly new and looking for employees, and she knows that Audrey would most likely hire all of Gabriel’s employees out of spite.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to help?” her brother asks. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

She knows. She wants so, so badly not to do it alone, to have her brother by her side as she faces down a magic user that could turn her into a puppet in the blink of an eye if she allowed herself to feel just a little bit too much, but she can’t bring him into this. Can’t bring anyone else into this. Tim already spends his nights stopping rapists and murderers and seeing all the horrors that Gotham has to offer. He doesn’t need to see what Paris throws at its people as well.

“It’s a miraculous matter, Tim-Tam,” Marinette says instead of voicing any of those thoughts. “Besides, bringing anyone else in puts them at risk of akumatization. It’s best to keep as few people involved as possible.”

“Okay then,” Tim responds, not fully managing to hide the disappointment and apprehension in his voice. “Good luck, Mari.”

The corners of her lips twitch upwards in a tiny smile. “I am the living embodiment of good luck, Tim-Tam. It will be alright.”

.o0o.

It is easy to poke and prod at Gabriel’s ego until he thoughtlessly lunges, crashing through his own window onto the street below when she dances out of his way.

Ladybug follows, dropping and rolling with a familiarity that comes from being forced to do that same motion countless times, and she toys with him, dodging, ducking, but never really attacking, until the news helicopters start circling overhead.

Chat Noir arrives just as she sweeps Gabriel’s legs out from underneath him, and he doesn’t quite manage to stifle his gasp of horror, all irritation at Ladybug for taking Hawkmoth down without him forgotten when he sees who is underneath the mask.

Ladybug may find Chat Noir (Adrien Agreste, she reminds herself,) a nuisance at best, but she is not heartless. She knows what it’s like, to want to believe that one’s parents are good people. She knows what it’s like when that illusion one tries so hard to maintain finally shatters, and it’s something that nobody deserves to experience.

Chat’s face hardens as Ladybug starts murmuring words in an ancient tongue underneath her breath, casting a spell on his father, who gave up the fight as soon as the butterfly was removed from his hands, to ensure that Gabriel will never be able to touch another miraculous again. He won’t be able to exist within three feet of one.

It’s a good thing she chooses that spell too, because it protects Gabriel from his son’s wrath.

As the authorities are cuffing his hands behind his back, something cold settles in Chat Noir’s eyes as he calls up a Cataclysm and lunges at his father, the clawed hand rippling with dark magic outstretched, ready to disintegrate a living, breathing human being.

Gabriel is yanked backward by an invisible force, pulled out of harm’s way, and Chat’s Cataclysm lands on a chunk of debris instead. The Black Cat is held back by his partner before he can try something else.

“Chat,” Ladybug hisses, as he struggles in her hold, still trying to go after his father, who is being put away into a police car. “It’s done. It’s over. He won’t hurt anyone ever again, and the justice system will deal with it.”

Chat Noir slowly starts to resist less and less at her words, and she takes that as a cue to continue. “It feels anticlimactic, and I know you want to do more. You think we should do more than just let them take him away, because you’ve been fighting on the front lines of this battle since the beginning. But our part is over. Our duty has been fulfilled. He won’t be acquitted, if that’s any consolation. There are mountains of evidence against him.”

Her partner turns around, suddenly, and buries his face into her shoulder as his body jerks with what she realizes are sobs. He’s crying,Ladybug realizes. He’s crying for his father. For who he thought his father was.

When was the last time she cried for one of her parents?

Ladybug reaches a hand up and awkwardly pats Chat Noir on the back for a moment before she spots the reporters.

“Let’s take this to our usual meeting spot,” she whispers to her partner, and he nods, composing himself in an instant. Janet would have liked Adrien, she thinks. Gabriel’s parenting style was evidently similar to how Marinette had grown up.

Five minutes later, they’re standing on the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the city they’d sacrificed so much to protect.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Chat Noir asks, turning to her. “This is the end? There’s no use for us anymore.”

Ladybug inhales slowly, taking in the view from above one last time and committing it to memory. Not that she needs to – her eidetic memory ensures that she’ll never forget. It’s for the sentiment, she supposes.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “We have to give them back now. Say goodbye to our kwamis.” She’ll miss Tikki’s company, she thinks, but not as much as she misses Jason’s. The kwami was sweet, yes, but she didn’t understand Marinette’s need to do something other than being Ladybug.

“Where do we even return them to?” Chat questions, and then she remembers that he’d never been told of the Guardian’s existence.

Ladybug unhooks her yoyo from her side, tossing it up and down one last time as she prepares to swing. “Follow me,” she says, and then she throws the yoyo and leaps off the side of the Tower.

.o0o.

Fu’s massage parlor is just as inconspicuous as ever, and somehow, no one is walking along the street when Ladybug and Chat Noir enter.

The Guardian has been expecting them – there are three cups of tea sitting on the table in front of him.

“Ladybug, Chat Noir, please sit,” he says in his wheezy voice. They oblige, but the tea remains untouched on the table.

“Chat Noir, it is time to return your miraculous,” Fu states, and the two of them stiffen, immediately picking out what’s wrong with that sentence.

“Why am I not included?” Ladybug inquires, her polite tone holding an undercurrent of danger. “There cannot be a Ladybug without a Black Cat.”

“Well, you see, you won’t be using the Ladybug,” the Guardian explains with a slightly condescending look on his face. “But there can only be one Guardian, and I’ve chosen you to be my successor.”

The sound of Ladybug’s palms slamming on the table makes the other two people in the room jump. “Absolutely not,” she declares as she stands up. “I did not agree to become the Guardian. This has never been discussed.”

Fu looks up at her with confused eyes. “But you became a candidate when you agreed to put on the earrings, and Chat Noir is simply not fit for the job.” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Chat Noir wince, but he does not disagree.

“I put on the earrings because people were dying,” Ladybug growls. “Because this city needed something, someone, to look up to, and there was no other viable option. The Guardian is never in the light. They spend the rest of their extended lives hiding in the shadows to protect a box of magical jewelry. The Guardian is not a symbol of hope, because nobody knows the Guardian exists. I put on the earrings to be a symbol of hope, not because I wanted to, but because people needed one. The people don’t need one anymore, and I don’t want to continue doing this.”

“I was fighting a war, Fu,” she spits, furious words laced with venom. “I was fighting a war with one ally by my side and we were both children. Now that the war is over, I am no longer needed, so I am leaving. I want the shreds of innocence I had before this war back, but that is not possible, so I can at least try to move on from this instead. Let me move on.”

Without warning, she reaches up and carefully takes the earrings out of her ears. She would have loved to rip them off in one swift movement, but earrings were not that type of jewelry. The Ladybug suit disappears in a flash of pink, and then she is Marinette again, standing in a massage parlor with a pair of red-and-black earrings in her hand and two sets of wide eyes fixed on her.

“Marinette,” Chat Noir breathes. “Oh my god, I… I’m so sorry.”

Marinette drops the earrings on the table in front of them. “Are you sorry for being an ass, or just sorry because the person you convinced yourself you were in love with was an illusion?” she asks, not looking at anyone or anything in particular as she pivots on her heel and strides for the exit.

When she reaches the doorway, however, she pauses, eyes still fixed straight ahead of her. “Oh, and Adrien?” she calls, eliciting two identical noises of surprise. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. About your father, of course.”

Then she opens the door and walks through, never once looking back as she sees the city that once weighed so heavily on her shoulders from the ground looking up, instead of from above, gazing down.

.o0o.

She’d spent some time wondering how she was going to adjust to life in Paris after that, knowing what she knew about Adrien and Gabriel and what Adrien knew about her.

As it turns out, she only has to go through one week of feeling Adrien’s green eyes on her at every available moment in class and going out of her way to avoid him, because her mother dies.

It’s surprisingly anticlimactic.

Janet Drake was always such a formidable woman. Her mere presence in a room could make grown men cower. To Marinette, she seemed almost invincible – always superior to everyone else, untouchable as she lashed out with quick with and a sharp tongue and long nails digging into her children’s shoulders. If there were ever any cracks in Janet’s façade, if it even wasa façade, she’d never seen one.

And yet, in the end, it turned out that she wasn’t untouchable after all. She’d died because she drank poisoned water out of desperation, even as Batman was right there. Batman had arrived to save them, he had freed them from their bonds, and the first thing they did was drink water poisoned with nerve toxin. Jack had survived, though he was in a coma and paralyzed.

Janet did not.

And that was it. That was the end of a woman that had dominated Marinette’s life for so long, a woman whose voice still hissed and lingered in her mind, reminding her to sit still and be silent and never, ever let your emotions show on your face.

Tim – he’d never had that mindset thrust upon him as forcefully as she did. After all, Tim had a father that didn’t despise him for his gender. Jack took charge of molding the son, and so Tim is crying, when he tells her all of this. He thinks he’s being subtle, but she’s his sister. She knows better.

Marinette didn’t care for her mother much, but she supposes she could give the dead at least some modicum of respect.

So as she packs her bags and books the next available flight to Gotham City, Marinette honors her mother’s wishes and does not shed a single tear for Janet Lynn Drake.

statue of ice

@whydoexamsexist @myazael @miyla-lokidottir @ira-sairain @zalladane @frieddonutsweets @moonlightstar64 @karategirl198-blog @consumeconstantly @maybe-nonsense @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @ola-is-dead @bee-wrecker @jeminiikrystal @neromerp13 @artemisdragona @severelyenchantedwonderland @miraculouslydumb @pepelachanel @stainedglassm @nyx-in-line @heldtogetherbysafetypins @silversaphire12 @zalladane @theymakeupfairies @thefoxandthewolfs @m0chik0furan

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[aliwritesfic]

Night Shift Part 3 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: Yours and Frankie’s weekends take very different turns

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Emotionally abusive relationship, very brief mention of drug use, drinking, T*m D*vis makes an appearance

Part 1 Part 4

Frankie slept better that week than he had in months. Every night was long, uninterrupted, mercifully dreamless sleep. The diner had done exactly what he had hoped. When he awoke that Saturday afternoon, he felt better than he had in ages. He hummed while he rummaged through the refrigerator, grabbing out some leftover padthai and throwing it in the microwave.

Each night that week, a routine between you and him had formed. You’d work, barely exchanging words until the dinner rush was completed, then you’d make him a coffee and he’d make you something to eat. You’d requested something different each night, and each night you’d spoken to him a little more. Some nights you were in a better mood than others, but he quickly realised it wasn’t personal against him.

He found he was a little disappointed when he woke up that afternoon and remembered that it was his day off. If he was being honest with himself, he’d grown to enjoy your company. Something about you intrigued him, made him want to get to know you more.

Frankie spent getting stuff together for poker night with the boys. It was his turn to host, so all he had to do was make sure that his dining room table was clear and his portable speaker was charged. 

While he got ready, his mind kept wandering back to you.

He thought of the way you had a different smile for certain customers. The truly genuine one was reserved for only a select few of your favourites. He felt himself hoping that one day you’d give him one of those smiles, instead of the one that didn’t really reach your eyes and disappeared quickly. 

He thought of how when the diner was quiet, you’d lean against the counter and sip your coffee, your gaze firmly out the window. 

He thought of how when your shift ended and you checked your phone, your face would change for just a fraction of a second before you’d say goodbye and rush out the door. 

Jesus fucking Christ, he thought, do I have a crush?

Frankie hadn’t had a crush since high school, when he had finally had the guts to ask out Portia Inglewood. That relationship had lasted until he left the military, and brought all the emotional baggage with him.

A loud banging on the door knocked him out of his thoughts. 

“Cat!” Benny didn’t wait for Frankie to open the door. “We’re here, and we have beer!”

“You know where it goes,” Frankie called back. 

Santi grinned at his best friend and handed him a beer. “How’s the new job?”

“It’s exactly what I need right now,” Frankie told him. Santi nodded in understanding. They all had their own ways of dealing with what they carried. “Plus, the extra cash doesn’t hurt.”

Frankie didn’t want money - he had plenty from when he’d do private jobs with Santi. If he ever became desperate, he knew he could just join Santi on his next job. 

“Well, extra cash or not, I’ll always be the hottest person you’ve ever worked with,” Santi winked, making Frankie roll his eyes.

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, man.” Frankie laughed. 

The night progressed in a haze of pizza and beer and poker. Will lost money to Tom, and Tom promptly lost it all to Benny. Santi told the group about the new girl he was seeing, some French expat over stateside for a few months. Benny double checked everyone was coming to the fight next weekend. Tom revealed that he and the girls were moving to Ohio to be closer to Molly’s parents. The boys promptly began planning a going away party, which would basically just be another poker night but with more beer and possibly a cake.

Any worries Frankie held seemed to melt away on nights like these. At one point, he briefly wondered what you were doing and if you were thinking of him too. Yep. Definitely a crush.

~*~

You didn’t like Kurt’s friends. Unfortunately, you were stuck spending your Saturday night with them crowded in your apartment, loud and disrespectful as hell. It didn’t matter to them that you’d asked time and time again could they please go outside to smoke, could they please put their beer bottles in the recycling bin, could they please not use your nice plates to do coke on. 

If your grandfather could have seen you now, he would’ve called you a push-over. You hated that you had become this person - afraid to stick up for yourself in your own home. Hell, you didn’t even know at what point you’d become this person. It just seemed to happen over the five years you’d been dating Kurt.

You had lost yourself in trying to be what he wanted.

With a sigh, you sealed yourself away in the bedroom with a bag of Doritos and your phone, wishing you could call your grandfather. You still had his number in your phone. Occasionally, you’d look at it, the numbers seared into your brain. 

Instead of calling the now disconnected number, you settled for messaging Sara. She was one of your only remaining friends from high school, and knew as much about your feelings as you were willing to let on. The thing was, you knew what she would say if you told her how you felt every single day. How lost, how hopeless you felt. She’d tell you to leave, forget Kurt and all the years with him, but to you it wasn’t that simple. 

Part of you still loved him, despite everything, and that part remained hopeful that you and Kurt could fix the fractures in your relationship. Plus, a voice in the back of your head told you he was right when he said he was the only one who could ever love you. 

Being alone, unloved, was one of your deepest fears.

This was one of the nights you actually missed being at the diner. You missed the lemon scented countertops, the radio that seemed to be permanently set on the oldies station, hell, you even missed Frankie and his amazing food. He’d been working with you less than a week but he had already wedged himself into your stomach. But, it was just two more nights until you were back there. It struck you that this was the opposite of how most people thought. No one you knew actually wished to go back to work. 

It was almost dawn when you were woken out of your half sleep by Kurt stumbling into the room. 

“Baby,” he slurred, crawling into bed beside you. “Baby, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mumbled, moving over so he could fit in the bed easier. He reeked of sweat and booze. 

“I’m sorry,” he planted a sloppy kiss on your neck. “I really try to be good.”

“I know,” you ran your fingers over his head. He liked his hair cropped short, in an almost military like style. “I try too.”

“Can we go back to how we were?” Kurt continued kissing you, his hands moving drunkenly over your body. You bit back a sigh, knowing where this was heading.

You decided it would be easier to let him do what he needed, despite how badly you wanted to sleep. The only saving grace was you knew Kurt would only last a couple of minutes before it would be over. 

~*~

“So, what’s the new guy like?” Manny asked. You were seated outside, at one of his favourite cafes. The sun shone down warmly on you both, brightening your mood.

“I like him, I think,” you said. “He’s nice, quiet.”

“And pretty cute, right?” Manny wriggled his eyebrows. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” you lied. Of course you had noticed. It was impossible not to notice. 

“Don’t feed me bullshit, I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Ugh, fine. He’s good looking. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s the thing lover, it only means something if you want it to.” Manny took a conspiratorial sip of his drink. “And I didn’t get a gay vibe from him.”

“Oh good, because the only thing holding me back from jumping his bones in the kitchen is that I didn’t know his sexual preference.” You rolled your eyes, deciding to quickly change the subject. “Anyway, how’s the new job?”

“I’m loving it!” Manny lit up. “Everyone says teenagers are the worst group to teach, but it’s like they forget middle school exists.”

You smiled at Manny’s happiness. It thrilled you to see someone you considered your best friend so happy. If anyone deserves the whole world, you thought, it’s him. But he wasn’t going to let you change the subject that easily.

“You know, maybe you could invite Frankie to one of our lunches,” Manny said slyly. “It could be a night crew thing.”

“That would mean inviting the weekenders,” you reminded him. Manny held a grudge against the weekend crew, but you could never figure out why.

“No, weeknight crew only. Come on, lover, it could be fun! Plus, I want to get to know my replacement a bit better. Make sure I’m not handing the spatula to someone I don’t approve of.” Manny pouted and switched on his puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll ask,” you conceded, “but don’t be surprised if he says no. The man probably has a life.”

“It can’t hurt to ask though, and I will bother you about it until you have an answer.”

“What are you planning?” You knew that look all too well.

“Just on making a new friend,” Manny said innocently. “Lover, you can never have enough friends.”

At that moment your phone buzzed with a text from Kurt.

Where r u?????

You grimaced and sent a quick reply, hoping it wouldn’t lead to what it usually did.

At lunch with Manny from work. I’ll be home in a couple hours, do you want anything?

“Why don’t you just break up with him?” Manny asked, watching you carefully.

Is he the gay 1?

Yes, you met him and his husband last year.

“It’s complicated,” you said. You didn’t have anywhere to go. You were terrified of being alone. Part of you still felt like you could salvage what you had. The one and only time you had tried to break up with him, he had threatened to kill himself if you left. 

“You deserve better than that,” Manny said. You remained silent, not sure if he was right. “You’ve been unhappy for ages now.”

“I’m happy!” You protested.

“No you aren’t. Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re miserable with that douche bag, even James agrees.”

“I haven’t seen James in months! How the hell would he know!” You were getting defensive, but you still managed to keep your voice lowered. 

“Lover, I talk that man's ear off every chance I get. Because I love him. Because he likes to hear me talk about my day and the people important to me.”

“I’m important to you?”

Manny rolled his eyes and threw his napkin at you. “Of course you are, you’re a sister to me. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“What subject!” You scoffed.

“The subject of you for some reason wanting to stay in a relationship with a man who makes you miserable,” Manny’s voice softened and he gently held one of your hands. The gesture almost made you tear up with its gentleness. You merely shrugged.

“Like I said, it’s complicated.”

Manny nodded. “Just please think about it, for real. I couldn’t sleep at night if I never said anything to you about it.”

The walk home was slow, you took your time to sort out your scrambling thoughts. Manny had offered to drive you, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the sunshine. You pushed the issue of Kurt to the side, knowing either way the outcome would be the same unless you magically grew a spine and a few extra zeros in your bank account.

Instead, you thought about Frankie and how best to ask him to Sunday lunch. Honestly, if there was going to be a night shift tradition, it just felt downright rude to not at least extend an invite. And if Frankie said yes, well, that was even better. It was like Manny said - an opportunity to make a new friend. Just a friend.

So why did your stomach flip at the thought?

Tagging @hnt-escape if you’d also like to be tagged just let me know <3

[daisylore-au]

Honesty is the best policy! Talk to Q

10 votes to talk and 5 votes to leave him alone ,, looks like they’re talking >:)

tw: torture, anger, emotional distress, fighting / arguing (sort of?), angst

“Q?”

There’s a different tone to Sapnap’s voice when he sits down beside him: flinching from it, ashamed to have been caught like this, Quackity’s wings close around him more than ever, and with a choked noise, he tries to compose himself. “Hi,” he manages, voice wrecked, “this is— um, this is awkward. I didn’t— I didn’t mean for you to catch me like this. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Sapnap replies, and, very cautiously, threads a hand through the visible strands of hair peeking over the top of his wings. “I didn’t want you being upset alone. Do you… wanna talk about it?”

There’s that different tone of voice again. Quackity stiffens. Sapnap definitely knows something big is coming. “I don’t—” He begins, only to cut himself off sharply when his words tremble. “I should. I should talk about it, I need to— I wanna tell you before anyone else does. Or before you find out.”

Sapnap’s fingers still in his hair. “Only talk if you wanna,” he says, quietly, “can you pull your wings down? I wanna see your pretty face.”

Normally, the compliment would be enough to draw a string of teasing from him, as well as a flush. But Quackity only shifts his wings listlessly, revealing his tearstained face and red eyes. Sapnap’s face melts when he sees him, cupping his hands in his. Quackity could cry at the physical affection.

“I can’t even ask you not to be mad.” He sniffs, looking away in shame. “I can’t even— ‘Cause you will be, you’re going to be so fucking mad at me, Sapnap, you’re gonna— Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry—”

“Hey, hey.” Shushes Sapnap, eyes creasing in concern. “You’re gonna send yourself into a panic attack, alright? Relax. It’s okay. Okay?”

It’s not. But Sapnap will realise this soon enough. Taking a sharp, desperate breath, Quackity tightens his hands in Sapnap’s, meeting his eyes for a fleeting desperate second. “It’s— It’s about Dream.”

The affect this has on Sapnap is instantaneous. Something shifts in his posture, and Sapnap shuffles a little closer on the bench, nerves passing over his face. “Is it about… You visiting him?” He probes, tentatively. “In prison, I mean?”

Quackity’s head jerks up. “You know?”

“I know you visited.” Sapnap glances around, furrowing his brow. “Chat told me. That’s all I know though, basically. …I figure they were lying about the whole Book Club thing, though.”

“Book Club…” Quackity cringes. That’s a cruel way to taunt him about what he’d actually done. “Um… yeah. Yeah, that was— sort of a lie. I-I mean, I did visit him— I did visit him for a book. Remember— Remember how he brought Tommy back to life?”

Sapnap frowns, curiously. “Yeah. With the… Oh. You wanted the Revive Book?”

It’s getting hard to breathe. Has the air always been this thin? Has his chest always been this tight? “That’s why I started visiting him,” he agrees, voice trembling, “Um— yeah. Yeah, I wanted the book. Badly. I… I really wanted that book, Sapnap.”

And something clicks behind his partner’s eyes, understanding dawning sharply and with no small amount of horror. “…Someone in Chat said it was like a life or death situation,” he replies, voice almost inaudible, and Quackity flinches at the sound, “they weren’t lying. Were they.”

And it all comes pouring out, with Quackity getting increasingly more distressed as he speaks. He talks of the early prison days, where he’d get his job done and leave and that was it — he talks of the way Dream had held against him, taunting him, defying him, attempting to fight his every move. He talks of the later days — how Dream had lost his fight, how the sessions would last longer and longer each time, sometimes spanning hours and hours, of how he was beginning to enjoy it. And then, through tears, Quackity speaks about Dream giving him the book.

The scene is so clear in his mind. Dream, lying still barely conscious on the floor. Scrawling the words down painstakingly, struggling with every letter. Quackity stooping to pick up the book, a soft finally leaving his lips — a condescending good fuckin’ dog, Dream following not long after. He talks about rushing back to Las Nevadas to translate it. He talks about heading back the next day to torture Dream because some of it was too hard to translate. He talks about heading back the day after that to torture Dream because—

“—I liked it.” The words rip themselves from his throat, weak and horrified. “I liked hurting him, I liked— I liked the power, I liked how it made me feel. And at the time I didn’t regret it one bit. And then— Then, when he escaped, I was so, so fuckin’ scared he would tell people, so I ordered the nuke strike, and…”

His voice trails into nothingness. All of a sudden, his words fail him, leave him run dry. It’s impossible to look at Sapnap’s face, nevermind meet his eyes, so Quackity has no idea what he’s thinking or what his face is doing. It’s too terrifying to think about. There’s so many more things he wants to say, so many apologies, excuses — but they all fail him when he needs them most.

Sapnap doesn’t speak. He’d pulled their hands apart at some point during the rant, and they sit clenched in his lap, spine rigid, muscles tense, but other than that, he’s completely motionless, wordless.

Eventually, Quackity can’t take it. “Say something. Please.”

“…I’m gonna pack my inventory,” Sapnap says, very slowly, “and I’m going for the day. I don’t trust myself around you right now.”

As he gets up, Quackity feels like he’s tiny, eyes widening with the terror of being left with his own thoughts. “You’re— You’re leaving?”

“You want me to stay? After that?”

“I,” Quackity says weakly, but only stammers, “I want— I didn’t want this to change— us. I didn’t want—”

“You should have thought about that before you tortured my brother.” When Sapnap spins around, his eyes are glowing — it’s been a while since he’d lost control of his fire abilities, and it’s frightening to see him so close to doing so now. “God fucking damn it. God fucking damn it, Quackity.”

Quackity. Not Q. Quackity feels like he’s falling apart. “Will you— You’re coming back?”

“If this was permanent, I’d have made you leave instead,” Sapnap snaps, and buries his head in his hands for a moment. When he looks back up, the flames are gone, and in their place is sorrow. “I need space. Jesus Christ. Just— Go inside, Q. I need time to process this or whatever— and so do you. Just go inside, calm yourself down— Fuck. Dream, fuck.”

Quackity doesn’t respond to him. He doesn’t cry out for him to come back or yell after him or try to apologise — he doesn’t even say anything when Sapnap storms to the stable and rides past him on his horse Blaze, going at a reckless speed. Instead, he sinks back onto the bench and stares ahead, blankly. He doesn’t think he’d have the ability to get to his feet if he’d tried.

It could have gone worse, his mind tells him softly, but all he can focus on is the horror in Sapnap’s eyes, and the absence of another hand in his. Twisting the wedding band round on his finger, Quackity slumps back, and wonders if Sapnap will ever forgive him.

[captaincoffeegirl515]

What the hell was that last act???

So first of all I want to say that I did enjoy most of the movie. It was okay. The sex scenes didn’t do anything for me though since I’m just not interested in sex at all. But while I more-or-less liked the movie, I felt that the big plot twists in the last act and the ending were badly done because… how the fuck did ANY of them manage to get away with ANY OF THAT??? Like from a legal standpoint it’s just ???

This got so much longer than I anticipated, so the rest is under the read more. And yes, there are so many spoilers. So if you haven't seen The Voyeurs yet and don't want spoilers, please avoid this.

Seb and Julia literally confess to selling their old apartment in order to spy on the people who live there and use them for their art show. Like, yes, they put that clause in the Terms of Agreement for the apartment (which literally no one ever reads) but there is still the matter of Informed Consent. Informed Consent is usually in the form of a contract Pippa and Thomas both need to read and sign, or via verbal questions and answers which is filmed so Seb and Julia would have physical proof of an agreement. This is basically telling them what footage was taken, how it will be used, and if Seb and Julia have permission to share the footage publicly. In Thomas’ case, since he’s dead, his next-of-kin will be asked. Only then are Seb and Julia legally allowed to publicly share and showcase the Pippa and Thomas’ pictures. And Seb is a professional photographer! He should know that!

Have you ever seen prank shows? Like even the ones on YouTube. Have you noticed at the end of some videos, there would be a part where the filmers would approach the person who was pranked and ask if they could use their footage in the video. That’s Informed Consent. They need to ask permission to use a person’s footage in a video or if they need to blur out the person’s face for privacy. Seb and Julia even showed a picture of a dead man for chrissakes! Remember the outcry when that YouTuber posted a video of a suicide victim in Japan???

The Japanese interviewer was right to disapprove of their methods because even though there was a clause in the Terms of Agreement, the prank (because isn’t that what that whole show they did was?) or experiment still resulted with someone killing themself (yes I know it was murder, but the world doesn't know it). They can possibly still be held liable for causing Thomas to kill himself the same way a prankster can be held liable if their victim dies from a prank because of this thing in Law called the Eggshell Rule or Eggshell Plaintiff.

What this means is that a defendant is liable for any injuries caused by the defendant’s actions, regardless of how unforeseeable or uncommon the plaintiff’s reactions to the defendant’s actions are. So for example, there is a scary prank where the prankster jumps out of the bushes and terrifies people. One of them turns out to have a heart condition, suffers a heart attack, and dies. Regardless of the victim’s frailty, the prankster can be held liable for exacerbating the condition and causing the victim’s death. Likewise in the movie, they can say that Seb and Julia, by orchestrating the whole thing and making Thomas see his girlfriend cheating on him, could have caused him to become broken-hearted and kill himself. Therefore, Seb and Julia can be liable for Thomas’ death.

And then here’s the kicker! The famous photographer and his wife, a famous model, both suddenly end up blind AFTER their big art show where they displayed Pippa’s scandal. And not by accident. No. This was obviously surgically done. And NOBODY suspected foul play?? Nobody thought about revenge?? Nobody thought it strange how their blindness was clearly done with a surgical/medical precision nor suspected the couple’s subject, Pippa, who they thoroughly humiliated, who also worked as an optometrist technician at a lab that has the machines that could cause that kind of blindness??? And they're both still alive! They can easily tell the police who did it!

It should have been way too easy for the police to know that it was foul play. Blood tests can tell that Seb and Julia had been drugged. How they were blinded can be traced to the optometry lab. Pippa would be the easiest main suspect due to her connection to them with revenge as the main motivation after they humiliated her in that art show.

And yes, I agree that what Seb and Julia did was wrong. They used Pippa and Thomas, and then murdered Thomas so they can have some juicy story to tell!

Even so, what happened to Ethical Codes in the medical field? What happened to the Hippocratic Oath? Non-maleficience rule? “Do No Harm”? Pippa should have been slammed with, idk, medical malpractice or something, after using her knowledge of the LASIK machine and using it to permanently blind people (which is an actual fear real people have about LASIK surgery), have her license revoked, be fired from her job, and possibly serve jail time. Why is she walking free all willy-nilly and still being allowed to continue stalking Seb and Julia?

I’ll admit though that maybe I’m being more harsh towards Pippa because I myself used to be a Board Certified medical professional (my license expired last year because I hadn't been working in that field for a while) and because of that, her actions angered and horrified me more.

Normally, we as an audience are made to root for the main character or hero, but I found it difficult to do so because Pippa herself is a terrible person. She's a pervert and a creep. She was obsessed with the lives of other people, stalked them, and even went as far as committing crimes in order to fuel her obsession - trespassing, breaking and entering, destruction of private property.

And my goodness this actually makes me think of a few Ben Hardy stans who are like this. Well, idk if going to Ben's school so that she can get a copy of a school film he was in can be considered a crime, but it's still fucking creepy.

Pippa’s got that Savior Complex where she tries to rescue this poor neglected wife from her horrible cheating husband (the same one she herself wants to fuck because she’s obsessed with him). And then when it all goes south, she immediately turns around and blames THOMAS of all people because “he started it”. Like, so what if he did?? He still had enough maturity to realize when they were taking it too far, and decided to stop with the stalking. He told her to stop multiple times but she was too blinded by her obsession and lust for a man that she doesn’t even know.

AND THEN!! She stalked a grieving husband (I know we know that was a lie but Pippa didn't know that) and proceeded to cheat on her boyfriend with said grieving husband. And frankly, I don’t understand why she’s so vengeful about Thomas’ death considering how easily she forgot him so that she could cheat on him. Like. Who knows, maybe he still would’ve killed himself regardless of the poisoned drink because the last thing he saw was his girlfriend cheating on him with the man she’d been obsessed with for the past idk how long. Even in the scene after Thomas died, there was a momentary grief where Pippa was all “it’s my fault Thomas died” but it was all too brief and immediately after she went back to obsessing and asking about Seb. And they want me to believe that she’d want to avenge Thomas’ death? No. I think she blinded Seb and Julia because she was angry at being called out for her obsession. For being told that she was wrong to go that far. It wasn’t about her “love” for Thomas. It was about how humiliated she was about being wrong.

Can you believe that Pippa gave this whole speech with the fable about being content with what you have and not to try to be greedy by wanting more and then she just immediately DOES THE OPPOSITE OF THE MORAL by cheating on her boyfriend because she wanted more aka Seb???

The more that I think about it, I feel like the true villain of the movie is Pippa herself. Her obsession with Seb is what started the whole thing. If she had been able to keep a healthy distance, none of that would’ve happened to begin with. There would be no fights over how far things were going. Seb would have no scandal to tell. She worsened Thomas’ insecurities of not being enough for her, making him go to great lengths just to try to please her. Poor Thomas. He truly deserved better.

Pippa also has awful friends. Instead of stamping down the creepy behavior, they’re giving tips on how to listen in on other people’s private conversations! And then later try to excuse her cheating on Thomas. And then help with her obsession AGAIN.

Acting-wise, I felt that Natasha, Ben, and Justice were incredible and I loved them. I love how conflicted Ben played Seb and how you can see it in his eyes. My favorite scene was the one where Seb and Julia had that confrontation over the wine where Seb asks if she ever felt guilty and Julia just stares right back and stares him down. Natasha was brilliant as Julie pretending to be all friendly and vulnerable with Pippa. Justice was very emotional and I love the scenes where he was horrified at how far Pippa was taking everything. For me, Sydney was the weakest one at acting. While there were some okay parts, her face can be really stiff at some points, like during the sex scenes.

Overall, I thought the movie to be quite thought-provoking especially in this day and age where people can find the most intimate details of another person’s life so easily, be that through Carrd, Instagram stories, Facebook feeds, and other social media sites. It makes you think about parasocial relationships, how people can be so obsessed about people that they’ve never even met, and how that obsession can easily grow into something dangerous that can ruin lives. Good movie, terrible last act. Too much sex for my taste, but then it wouldn’t be called an erotic movie.

Outside of the movie, I really love the chemistry between the four of them. I love watching their interviews and seeing how they interact with each other.

Last but not the least, I know this may be random but my brain likes to zoom in on the weirdest things. How on earth did Pippa manage to get Seb on top of that operating table?? No offense but Pippa is fucking tiny. Seb’s like twice her size and mostly muscle AND unconscious. Like ??? Sorry but that threw me off so much it’s ridiculous.

[ohmyasmodeus]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘤 ♡

𝐭𝐰; 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 

𝐭𝐰; 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 

i actually want to thank you for sending in this request! i know it’s a sensitive topic but i’ve struggled deeply with self harm in the past and being able to write these as a request was pretty cathartic. i really hope you’re doing alright, anon, and just know that you’re never alone in your struggles ♡ i also want to add that you never know what triggers someone may have, so please add a trigger warning when you send in requests like this to me or any other authors ! thank you !!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳

✧   You think he doesn’t notice, that he has better things to worry about, but he notices. Lucifer sees, and is… surprised. Horrified, and rightfully so. It’s highly uncharacteristic of you. Throughout the months, you have proven your capability and you continue to time and time again, going above and beyond to resolve issues between the brothers and in the Devildom. You are a strong person, and someone he wouldn’t have expected this behaviour from.

✧   But even the strongest can fall. He knows it all too well.

✧   “If there is anything I could do, anything to improve your experiences at RAD or in the Devildom as a whole, tell me. I don’t like seeing you in pain.” Lucifer takes your hand ever so gently in his, raising it to his lips to kiss your knuckles as he gives you the softest look. “I’m here for you. Tell me, my love, what’s weighing on your mind?”

✧   You won’t find your razor blades or penknives ever again, that’s for sure, and Lucifer makes it a habit to convince you to tell him how you’ve been feeling because he worries so much that it’s almost painful. Lucifer wants you to confront your problems head on. He helps you keep track of your milestones with beautifully handwritten calendars and brings you out on special dates to celebrate your weeks spent clean.

♡ 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯

✧   Mammon is around you 24/7, so there isn’t a lot you can hide from him. Even when you try to isolate yourself or get away to give yourself an opportunity to self harm, Mammon ends up either finding you or blowing up your phone until you give in and let him find you. He panics when he finds out. He panics hard. At first, he worries about Lucifer kicking his ass for letting this happen, but he finds himself completely distracted throughout the day with his worry for you. He can’t get you off his mind.

✧   (We all know he went through your room and found your stash. You’ll never find it again after how hard he panicked.)

✧   Surprisingly, Mammon speaks to you about it of his own accord. “Hey, so…” He looks away and shoves his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable with the pressure he puts on himself. “I’m your first man, and that means ya don’t keep any secrets between us. I wanna be there for you, so you should tell me when anything’s up, or just… come to me if ya wanna talk. Or anything. It would suck to have you all sad all the time, I prefer it when ya smile…”

✧   You end up having to coach him a bit on how you want to be comforted, but he readily supplies all the affection and reassurance you need. Mammon is endearingly worried about fucking up and it makes you smile. Everything he does makes you smile, really, because he works hard at cheering you up and making sure you’re too busy with his stupid antics. But at the end of the day, he’s there to give you a squeeze and patch up your wounds to try and help.

♡ 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯

✧   PANIC.

✧   Levi is much worse than Mammon. He isn’t experienced with emotions or dealing with real people in the slightest, so when he sees a hint of your fresh wounds, bruises, or any of your gloomy thoughts, his first instinct is to panic. Without thinking, he grabs your arm and asks if you’re okay, telling you to stay still while he gets some bandages!

✧   “You can use my Ruri-chan bandaids! And, um,” Leviathan bites his lip nervously, and you watch as he plasters your skin in more cutesy band aids than you really need. “I’m sorry, I hope it doesn’t hurt too badly… But are you okay? Like, really okay on the inside?”

✧   He’s much more empathetic than he gives himself credit for. It makes him uncomfortable in the beginning, the thought of you hurting yourself and hurting so much, but he quickly mans up and makes himself someone you can easily go to for support without even noticing. He knows the feeling of being alone and not feeling like he’s enough all too well, so he does his best so you can avoid feeling the same way. Levi is always the one coming to you with brilliant new ideas for self harm substitutes, giving you colourful bands to snap against your skin, or trying to massage you to make the urges go away (until he gets too blushy to handle it, at least).

♡ 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯

✧   Rage. It’s blinding, the torrential downpour of outrage and sheer grief. He should have been able to protect you from anything. The control over his emotions that he has spent centuries establishing unravels in that one blinding moment of finding what lay beneath your sleeves. It almost scares you. The grip he has on your shoulders is nearly crushing as he desperately leans into you, his wide evergreen eyes gazing into yours for an answer to all of this.

✧   “Who was it, ______? Who did this to you?” Satan’s voice is low, trembling with the barely contained emotion he holds inside his chest. It burns, acid in his veins as he almost refuses to believe that you had done something as terrifying as to hurt yourself.

✧   He wants to understand, he wants to know why you do these things, why you have these thoughts. Once he gets over the grief of not having been able to protect you from thoughts like this in the first place, he dedicates himself to learning how to help you manage. Satan tries everything with you, but most of all, he loves being able to hold you at night and caress your scars if you’d let him as you both talk about the universe and your emotions. Knowing how to help you allows him to help himself.

✧   He buys matching stim toys, one for you for whenever you might get the urge to self harm, and one for him. He tends to bring it around with him to fiddle with when he’s trying to get his wrath under control, so he never hesitates to lend you his when you don't have yours.

♡ 𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴

✧   Love has never been something Asmodeus bothered with too much, often seeing it as an annoying companion to the sin he indulges in the most, but when he realises how much you struggle… he’s overwhelmed with it. Asmo is overwhelmed with the need to hold you and feel your touch, to tell you that you are the most perfect being that he’s ever come across, to make you feel cared for and needed. He realises that losing you would completely tear him apart; just as the knowledge of your struggles does.

✧   “Oh, my love…” Asmodeus sighs as he finishes securing the gauze over your self-inflicted injuries. The first aid kit closes with a soft click, and he kisses your forehead before taking your hand to give it a squeeze. “You need to tell me these things, when you think you can’t handle it anymore. We… we’ll find a way, we’ll find something better to do.”

✧   These emotions aren’t something he’s used to, and he often fumbles when you open up about deep issues, but he listens well. If you let him, he does what he does best. Asmo will rub soothing lotion into your scars and distract you with your favourite things, dressing you up in his big comfortable clothes while watching your favourite shows with you. He never seems to be short on the supply of sweet words, and he’ll be showering you in so much affection to make sure you know just how much everyone adores you.

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘻𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘣

✧   Beelzebub is the one that worries the most. Unconsciously, he treats you like porcelain, holding you delicately and making sure that none of his brothers say anything that could potentially upset you. Much like Lucifer, he glues himself to your side and follows you around with those puppy eyes of his. It’s more than likely that he’s had the same thoughts before, thoughts of permanently putting an end to the pain of loss and grief. Beel gives you solace in understanding.

✧   “You coming here was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Beel mumbles quietly as he holds you close, burying his face in your hair. “I don’t want you to leave. I love you. So please, tell me how I can make it better.”

✧   Beel needs you like you need him. At night, he can’t sleep without having you close to make sure he still has you. When he needed it the most, you held his hand so he could fall asleep, and he’s determined to do the same for you. He’s sure that with time, the both of you can make it better together.

✧   Always active, Beel likes feeling like he’s doing something tangible to help you. He’ll be the one holding ice cubes to your skin when you have your urges, or hugging you tight to prevent you from acting out if you’ll let him.

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳

✧   Much of Belphegor’s life has been pain and ruin, and after being isolated in the attic, he just about thinks he’s out of fucks to give. Everyone’s life has some pain. It’s hard to concern himself with a mere human’s while he has his own recovery to focus on and deal with. But after noticing your tendencies, he can’t stop thinking about you. It’s less of a concern, and more of hoping that the both of you could find something in common in your pain, letting the both of you be someone for the other to hold onto.

✧   Belphie looks over you lazily as you lie beside him, and reaches for your hand. He laces your fingers together, wondering what could be going through your mind. “A penny for your thoughts? Tell me… how are you feeling today?”

✧   His love is as quiet as he is, but Belphie shows his concern by making you feel seen and needed. You don’t need to be strong around him anymore. If you want to talk, he will always listen. If you just want someone to hold, he’ll keep you wrapped in his arms. Belphie takes pride in being someone you can hold onto and trust with your deepest secrets.

✧   Additionally; he sends you depression memes

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[starsuh]

if fwb!jaemin can’t have you for forever then you can at least get tattoos together

featuring. na jaemin x reader

genre. fluff | wholesome fwb!au | very slight angst undertones

wc. 1.2k

warnings. none.

soundtrack. tattoos togethers by lauv.

Spontaneity was one of the many characteristics of Na Jaemin that had drawn you to him. From when he had first suggested being friends with benefits after you had both gone through bad breakups last year to showing up at your doorstep earlier that day to go on a post-exams trip to the beach.

You still would’ve never expected this, however.

He grabbed your hand, giddily bouncing on the backs of his feet as he turned to you to say: "Let's get tattoos.”

The crowd flowed down the boardwalk the same way the Han River would always meet its banks, with you parting its waves as you stood with a shocked countenance. Fishermen and tourists alike grumbled as they bypassed your still figure, staring at the grinning man with a look of utter perplexity.

"Let's get what?" Your brows furrowed. You must've misheard him, surely. 'Let's get tacos' sounded more likely coming from the man who could stand in the face of any type of seriousness and laugh. Tattoos were meant to last forever, something that people with your type of friendship never had.

"Let's get tattoos together," the corners of his lips upturned, pulling your interlocked hands upwards. "So we can remember this."

Jaemin had an inner happiness so independent of the outside world that his smiles burst from within rather than of masked pretenses worn in obligation. Often times, you found yourself almost envying his nature until you found it directed towards you.

You could only laugh, allowing the boy to pull you beside him and continue your path across the boardwalk. You leaned forward to better assess his expression. “For real?”

With the afternoon light reflecting on his clear skin, he looked like molten gold and the promise of happier days. His eyes twinkling as he looked down at you looking up at him. His other hand reached up to pat your head to which you ducked away with a scoff, resuming your pace slightly behind him. You hid your smile with a cough.

He tugged you closer to the shore, away from the crowd. Kicking off your sandals, your feet dug into the warm embrace of the earth. Jaemin followed suit.

"Yeah," he said. "We could get matching crab tats to commemorate the time we thought we had syphilis."

"Oh my god, for the last time, crabs aren’t-“

"Anyways!" He clapped his hands. "It's a cute idea, right? You're welcome."

"Getting that permanently etched into my skin sounds like I'm asking for bad luck," you paused. "Or asking for actual crabs."

"Listen," Jaemin placed his hands on your shoulders, catching your gaze with a countenance so serious that it caught you off guard. "Whether it's ocean crabs, STI crabs, or crab tattoos, as long as it’s with you I’d be fine with any of them."

You could see the wind-stirred shores in his eyes. If you were braver, you thought, you’d submerge yourself upon their depths completely. All else but him would be but one blur, and you’d find yourself falling so deeply in love with the feeling that you’d choose to stay there, with the sands and waters, no matter what, even if such feelings weren’t meant to be had for the boy with shining eyes and a smile brighter than the sun.

But, it was only a joke. Such an outcome could only be made in jest, in the universe where the two of you existed on parallel lines, close but never intersecting. So you laughed. Laughed and shoved him away, tumbling onto heaps in the sand at the absurdity of it all. The lingering seriousness in his eyes, however, would remain in the back of your mind as you contemplated the unexpected request.

Like clockwork, he tucked himself behind you; legs beside your hips and arms around your waist. A soft kiss was placed against your neck, not out of want but out of simple reassurance. You supposed there were some things in life that would never numb or dull, his warmth one of them.

“Are you actually serious,” your brow raised. “About the tattoo thing?”

“Yeah,” he hid his face where your shoulder met your neck. “Why not get a tattoo with a person who means a lot me, you know?"

“But why?” The unsaid question rung in the sudden silence. ‘Why want permanence for something temporary?’ After all, the unspoken rules of being friends with benefits was that it would end when either, one, feelings got involved or two, when one finally found someone they wanted to be serious with.

“Because, I love…”

He sighed, turning you around so that you were facing him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, though he didn’t need to. Jaemin didn’t kiss like how books described and movies portrayed. He kissed like he was telling a story; the one of you and him, on a beach, far away from the rest of the world. It was the promise of a new reality. Of heartache and passion. Friends didn’t kiss like this, you thought, and a softer voice in the back of your head whispered back: nor do friends with benefits.

You hovered soundlessly against his lips afterwards, simply feeling each other's presence. This was intimacy— the revelation that you could be the truest form of your whole being and not fear judgement or reprisal. He had always been that person to you, but you had never realized until now, with his hands tightly grasped around yours as if he feared that at any moment you might let go.

“I know that we might not last forever but you don’t understand how badly I want us to,” his secret was whispered against your lips and caught by the wind. “I think the thing I’m most afraid of is forgetting. Forgetting our memories and everything you've made me feel, because I don't think I understood what moments were worth making memories of until I met you."

You kissed him once more like a silent prayer to any god who could hear you that the next words to leave your lips wouldn’t end in regret. “Fuck it, let’s do it.”

He tilted his head in question. “What?”

“Let’s get tattoos.”

And that's how you found yourselves at the tattoo parlor three hours later, admiring the small bandages on both of your left wrists. You ended up getting the crab tattoos much to Jaemin’s happiness. They were smaller than a thumbnail and laid in the center of your upper wrists like an oath that you found yourself not minding.

Yours was done first and you loved it before you even saw it. It was simple and inked with black but you didn't need more than simple, not when someone as thoughtful and kind as Jaemin existed in your universe and wanted to stay in it.

When Jaemin’s was done, he had immediately barreled towards you and attacked you with a tight hug, twirling you around and off your feet. You laughed without care for volume or pitch as you playfully smacked his shoulder to put you down.

He leaned his forehead against yours with what could only be described as a love-struck grin (you didn’t understand how you hadn’t seen it sooner). “Hypothetically, what would you say if I asked you out on a proper date?”

You smiled and reconnected your hands with his. “As long as we don’t order crabs or get more tattoos on it, then I hypothetically might just say yes.”

[tojikai]

I just finished the “home” series, i just found your account yesterday yet all that’s left for me to read is “permanent mark”🙃

Like the “fix you” series, i ended up with alot of questions which is weird because i don’t have any for sundered but then again, im more of a toji girl

Questions:

- why did toji cheat?

- What happened in their marriage for it to get like that?

- did he ever truly fall out of love?

- do you have any plans for another story series?

- what would’ve happened if she hadn’t died?

- would’ve he regretted it or come back to her eventually?

- did he think of her daily after her death?

- how was he feeling after her death, years after?

- why did he put his mistress over his wife?

- Does he love his mistress more

- what’s up with the whole thing he did/him putting her over his wife

- what was his thought process when it first happened and after it kept happening

- ik he said he didn’t love hana but why would he cheat and basically put her over his wife if he didn’t?!?!

- i read 3 out of 4 stories so far and it seems like there a pattern of dudes putting someone they think they love yet don’t over someone they do or love more, is there any reason’s for it

Just me rambling about the story and your other stories:

I know he did but i hope toji suffers so so so much more until his last breath! (He did but I hope it felt like it was infinite for him😌) also Fuck hana! Wtf😭😭 if only toji didn’t fuck up bro its so sad, im hating yet understanding him?? If that makes sense, actually no not understanding but sympathetic towards him in the first ending ig but still fuck toji!!! I felt bad for him and then the next life chapter??? With his thoughts wtf and putting hana over y/n again😭 fuck toji!! he basically emotionally cheated if i was y/n i would’ve lefttt!! I swear your y/n’s are saints compared to me shhsjs

Your stories are so beautifully written yet so sad

I love them even if i might hate the love interest lol

Im More of the resentment type so it feels so silly to say this especially over a fanfic(but then again all of yours are so wonderfully written) but your stories i guess have made me possibly see things in a different light: like ppl do make mistakes and can change or genuinely regret them or that people can maybe hurt the people they love which is so weird for me to say because its a story and also im the type to refuse to believe you can love someone after you treated them so badly or cheated on them. Ig ur stories have made me realizes humans make mistakes and they aren’t BAD people for it butt the pppl they hurt doesn’t have to take them back nor forgive them or they can and it lean to something better than what would’ve been if they ended things

Note:

Im so sorry if im asking too much and i hope im not bothering you, i just tend to talk alot regarding things that i get invested in and i get so curious sbsjsj

Im probably writing this much because im so sleepy right now haha (my apologies especially if i wrote so much nonsense or I didn’t write/explain things wellh

thank you in advance if you answer 🫶i appreciate it, have a good day/night🖤i hope y enjoy the remaining of summer! Tysm for creating these masterpieces ‼️

hiii omg thanks so much, im glad that you enjoyed them <3

- to answer the first 3 questions: toji cheated bc he was bored. i have no excuses for this man in home series bc he really cheated bc their rs was getting a bit dull for him. do u know that point they say in some lovers' relationship. the drought, the feeling similar to "falling out of love" but they say not to leave your partner during this time bc that's when true love begins? yeah that. 🥹 he didn't really fell out of love but it's like a similar feeling to it.

- as for plans for another series, i'm thinking of doing a mini one. i have a draft here just waiting to be polished and published.

- if yn didn't die, hmm... assuming they stayed together, it's gonna be a very dead relationship. bc yn is so so tired. not just emotionally but mentally too. she's gonna have a hard time believing that toji still loves her even if he tried to explain. she's gonna be very reserved and visibly uncomfortable around him, thinking that he doesn't really want to be w her and just staying out of pity. she's gonna limit herself, and the love that she shows him. it will ultimately end in divorce, and he's gonna end up not wanting to sign it.

- yes, toji would've still regretted it even if yn didn't die. he's bound to come back to yn eventually. the day he left, he never planned on staying with his mistress for long. he just went there bc he was frustrated and he's trying to run away from yn's confrontation and the consequences. deep inside he was hoping that yn won't push through w the 'divorce.'

- for the 7th and 8th question, yes toji thought of yn every day and every night. the onyl time he's not thinking of her is when he's swarmed with work. but even during those times, his mind wanders to her still. the feeling that he felt when he learned of her death and discovered how she prepared everything for him and his new life was how he felt his whole life. it was never lessened. if anything it only got worse w time.

- for the 9th, 10th and 11th question: no, he didn't love his mistress more than yn. he left and put his mistress over his wife bc he thought that's what he wanted. there was a sense of thrill, the feeling of being with someone new that pushed him to act like that. as mentioned in the home series, his pride took over and he thought that that's the freedom that he wanted but it wasn't. it was too late when he realized that. you really don't know what you got until it's gone. he thought yn's gonna be there forever and that's why he kept choosing to go to his mistress not knowing that yn's days were numbered and that he's about to lose her.

- when he first cheated w her out of pure lust. there was no deeper meaning to it. and then it kept happening bc he found escape and thrill in it. other than that, she gives him a different type of attention, something new.

- w hana it was the attraction that made him act like that. im not saying all people, but some tend to be nice to attractive people and they don't even notice that to impress a new one, they end up neglecting another one. other than that, it's bc they work together. he doesn't plan on getting it on w her tho. he loves yn.

- i just like the thought of them making mistakes to learn from LMAO but i guess the difference is in fix you, his wife's dead. it's the lack of appreciation for the present and being stuck in the past. while in sundered, uhm it's a lot of pride and he did love Naomi tho. she was so good to him. (except that 'thing' she tried to do)

it makes me happy when people say they learn something from the content i put out🥺 the fact that you guys read my masterlist also makes me happy bc it makes me realize that literature really do make something immortal AAAAA i enjoyed reading this and answering your questions~ thank you so much for the love and support you give my stories <3 hope you're having a great week ~!!

[violetwolfraven]

“You know they’re gonna get married and have a bunch of unholy babies.”

*deep breath* Here we go. I can do this.

It’s been a long time (like over a month) since I’ve put anything out, but... I’m trying. Got struck with a small bolt of inspiration and I’m gonna try to start creating again. As of now I am gonna say that requests are still closed, but I’m feeling a bit better and I think this fic looks okay, so don’t hesitate to comment with your thoughts!

Tw: implied internalized homophobia, rejection, mentioned child neglect.

...

Flynn knows that Carrie likes girls.

She’s always known. It’s obvious. It’s been obvious. Since even before the first time Ray showed the girls (Triple Threat. Triple Threat was going to be their band name after they were introduced to Carrie in 2nd grade, key words going to be—) Star Wars and while Julie was saying how cool Princess Leia shooting a gun was, all Carrie could talk about was how pretty she was.

Carrie’s favorite flowers are violets. Her favorite Disney fairy is Vidia. Her favorite Avenger is Thor. It’s obvious. It always has been.

Flynn has known Carrie likes girls... well, the entire time they’ve known Carrie. Carrie likes girls. It’s just the way things are. Julie has a seemingly permanent crush on Nick but occasionally gets another one on someone else (she has excellent, though unrealistic, taste) Ray and Rose don’t question it when Flynn shows up at their house unexpectedly, and Carrie likes girls.

And Flynn likes Carrie, not that she feels like telling her that.

Carrie, who shines like a neon pink supernova when she sings, who attacks every move when she dances, who is ambitious and ruthless and... so insecure.

She needs constant validation. She needs reassurance that people can care about her for more than just her dad’s wealth and fame. She needs to know she isn’t going to be left behind again.

She seems to like being needed, when Flynn’s mom and dad finally get divorced, perfectly happy to wake up at odd hours to marathon the entire Pirates of the Caribbean franchise because it’s not like Flynn’s dad will notice if they leave the house in the middle of the night and take an Uber to a mansion above the beach because she needs to feel seen right now.

And it’s not that they blame her for any of it. She doesn’t. It’s just... weird, knowing that Carrie needs those nights, needs to feel needed, as much as Flynn needs to feel noticed.

It would be simpler to go to Julie’s house, but Carrie knows how it feels to have the ground under your feet shaken and your family break apart. Julie can’t possibly understand that yet, so Flynn goes to Carrie.

And Carrie takes to popping in The Curse of the Black Pearl before she can even ask her to. She learns to braid natural hair and will sit for hours doing Flynn’s. She’ll talk absentmindedly about the latest shenanigans her dance class has been up to until they feel up to talking about whatever’s bothering them.

They talk about Flynn’s mixed feelings about her mom’s new girlfriend and their buttload of homework and her dad paying more attention to his car than to them and somewhere in there, Flynn realizes that isn’t just a crush. She’s had those before. This—what they’re feeling now—is love. Or... it has to be.

It has to be love because what else could possibly be this strong?

She really shouldn’t have forgotten that as their dad likes to joke about, love is bullshit.

And Flynn really shouldn’t have taken Julie’s advice about making a move on the girl they have a crush on (she didn’t even tell Julie who it was, what were they thinking?).

Because Flynn pours her heart out, says they’ve been in love with her since they were 7 (and they’re 13 now so literally almost half her life), and Carrie just stares at her for a full 10 seconds, then runs—no—sprints away.

Less than 48 hours later it’s all over her Instagram that she and Nick are going out on a date, and Flynn wants to scream.

They both keep it together for Julie, pretend they’re still friends, because Rose just got diagnosed with cancer and Julie needs them to be normal, so they are.

But the first and last time Flynn tries going over to Carrie’s house again after the fiasco of telling her how they feel, it’s a big argument that narrowly avoids waking Trevor that ends in an unholy, heartbroken mess of you don’t even like him, you don’t even like boys so why and I don’t know what you’re talking about and yeah, right, call me when you’re ready to stop pretending to be something you’re not.

Then Flynn leaves, goes to the Molinas’ (Ray makes her hot chocolate, he’s such a good dad), and pretends it doesn’t hurt until it doesn’t anymore. Until she’s angry instead of heartbroken and they’re not just angry for herself. They’re angry that things are weird enough now that Julie can tell something’s up. Angry that Nick’s inevitably going to get his heart stepped on (because he is a sweetheart, if an oblivious one). Angry that Carrie’s gone and formed her own band without what is now going to be just Double Trouble and her performances are good.

Angry that Carrie thinks liking girls would... what? Make people love her less? Make her dad love her less? Hurt her career bad enough to end it?

And she’s definitely angry that Carrie’s pushing Julie so hard back towards music, after Rose dies.

She means well, thinking what she did to cope with her mom abandoning her will work for Julie, but she’s being short-sighted about it.

Rose’s death is hitting all of them hard in different ways (Rose was almost as good as another mom to Flynn), only Carrie can’t seem to see that. She can’t seem to see that when Julie’s hurting, she shuts down completely. Stops creating music because it’s what she needs to do to cope.

And Carrie... does not react well when Flynn tries to tell her that. That conversation ends in a big, explosive fight in the Molinas’ garage with Julie caught in the middle that doesn’t stop until Ray comes out and makes them stop by telling Carrie he’s driving her home.

Flynn shoves every last bit of feelings they might have had for Carrie down and puts all her energy into making sure Julie will be okay.

They don’t miss the feeling of Carrie’s hands in her hair, hearing her voice sarcastically remarking on how Jack Sparrow is lucky to be alive, and talking about feelings with someone who clearly needs that talk as badly as they do.

It’s almost the same, once Julie feels okay enough to handle listening to other people’s problems, but...

“I know you love her, Flynn,” Julie tells them one day, months after the big fight.

To which Flynn can only respond, “That’s not true.”

Because it’s not. Not after everything Carrie said. Because if there’s still some feelings left over for that beautiful neon pink supernova demon... no there isn’t. She turned them into anger, making snappy comments about how Carrie’s a traitor, a demon, whatever.

About how she’s gonna end up with Nick and live unhappily ever after.

That not happening would require either Nick to get his sweet himbo head out of the clouds (probably not going to happen), or Carrie to get past the denial phase of accepting her sexuality.

Ha. Fucking likely that is.

Because Carrie likes girls. Flynn’s always known she does.

But she’s also insecure and aggressive and obsessed with breaking out of her dad’s shadow, and any possible threat to that dream can’t stand.

Even if accepting herself might actually make both of them her happy. Fill in some of the holes in both of their lives her self-esteem.

Carrie’s too damn stubborn to even consider it, and Flynn doesn’t miss her. They don’t. She’s not stupid enough to hold on to something that will never happen and they have moved on. Can even joke about it now.

“You know they’re gonna get married and have a bunch of unholy babies.”

...

Part 2 here cause I’m physically incapable of not writing at least the possibility for a happy ending!

[autisticzukka]

what is this hakoda zuko arranged marriage you speak of? i am intrigued

okay so the long story short is that it’s a slight rebuttal of a popular post that is very fun but i find like... unrealistic in a really intriguing way like, how would this ACTUALLY play out. I’ve talked about it at length in my server a few times, and it’s one of those AU’s -- like the genderbend zukka ATLA rewrite or the zukki fic that starts with sokka failing to assassinate zuko -- that lives rent free in my head and I’ve written a couple thousand words for.

tw for like VERY unrequited zuko in love with hakoda and the inherent comedy of sokka being in love with his fire nation stepmom.

so here’s hakoda, chief of the southern water tribe, happily not-married to Bato. and here is a more balanced war, where the north and the south are actually  allies, rather than whatever the fuck they were in ATLA. Yue already has a fiance and the Northern chief refuses to remarry. that leaves hakoda responsible for biting the bullet and doing a political marriage even though, as he points out at length, he is an elected official and if he stops being elected it’s no longer a marriage with the chief of the south pole. intelligently but mostly selfishly motivated (yue’s fiance is his nephew, after all) pakku points out that its not like the fire nation knows... that. the fire nation is dumb. ozai’s stupid.

faced with such inarguable points hakoda stiffens his upper lip, pre-emptively ends things with bato on the understanding that if this is another kya situation they’ll get back together and that he’s still the most important person to him but the tribe comes first yada yada, and deals with katara throwing the mother of all tantrums. it is slightly softened by the fact that in return for him marrying the fire nation noble, a thing everyone can agree isn’t traditional, the north has finally agreed to train katara. she heads out before the wedding, in protest but also so as to not cause an international incident.

(on her way, she’ll find aang. with the war less dire, katara will be sympathetic towards his desire to live without committing violence, even if she deeply can’t relate. they’ll have a hot girl romcom summer of self discovery and coming to terms with the dichotomy between duty and love as they become master benders. at some point they pick up toph. they ARE a throuple.)

sokka meanwhile is like.. not cool with it.. but ? kind of relieved? like. he’s the eldest kid. he’s 18, and he’s been a man of the tribe as far as legalities for several years. it would have been entirely understandable if his dad had asked HIM to do it. he had his emotionally crushing romance with yue, and as much as he was like ‘im kind of a prince’, he finds he doesn’t actually want some of the responsibilities and demands that would bring. yue’s life sucks.

back in the fire nation, zuko never demanded a quest and never went on it. he’s spent years hardening into something that, while brittle, can survive the pressures of the court around him. he still has his scar. he still wants his father to love him, but he knows by now that it’s not something he’s capable of earning. he watches his sister, never the most stable person, start to have complete breakdowns of sanity once she hits puberty, and helps her cover for it and receive medical treatment on the down low. he’s the heir, but he lives knowing that if he was ever in a position to inherit his choices are to abdicate or have the baby sister who he raised kill him and destroy herself and the country in the process.

when he realizes the plan is to marry azula off rather than someone more reasonable-- mai is RIGHT there, for fucks sake-- he doesn’t realize ozai’s true intent is to fuck this up through malicious compliance and false shows of good faith. he panics, and does the zuko thing: he blurts out that this is unacceptable and immoral and she’s only 16 and Ozai sees the true opportunity for two birds with one stone. send zuko, let him piss someone off so badly he gets killed or divorced, and he gets rid of zuko from the line of succession permanently. there are those who are incredibly attached to teh idea of a firstborn for firelord, and it’s been a constant thorn in unpopular ozai’s side to nto be able to name azula his heir apparent without costly rebellion. but if he can taint him in the mind of the fire nation so much that birthright is easy to supercede-- yeah. this’ll work PERFECTLY.

so zuko is sent to marry hakoda, chief of the water tribe.

literally NO ONE was expecting it to be a member of Ozai’s immediate family. besides the fact that his oldest child is half hakoda’s age and his brother has 20 years on hakoda, it would have been sus as fuck - the treaty is not favorable enough to grant that kind of secession of interests. it becomes quickly apparent that this young man -- hakoda reminds himself of that repeatedly. not kid. not kid. young man. don’t think of him like a kid, it’s hard enough on both of us already. -- is not a horrible threat. he’s scared shitless and shakes with what he thinks is bravado. he’s desperate to make the marriage work. he’s desperate to not go home. he’s got a giant fucking scar on his face from where the fire lord punished him for some grievous but unstated offense.

zuko “daddy issues” fire nation sees his husband to be and, despite being scared shitless, immediately begins to soften a little. like... he’s not nearly as scary as he thought he’d be. his face can be stern, but it just as easily breaks into huge smiles, and his eyes are crinkled with laughter. he’s incredibly handsome. and his biceps are. his biceps. are. his hands are...

like. zuko thinks. okay. maybe. maybe his marriage duties. won’t be so horrible as he thought. maybe he’s ready for this. and he knows what to expect, Uncle had discreetly provided him the means and the contacts to acquire an intimate education in the whirlwind of activity that was the two months before leaving. and like, once he’d gotten past the nerves, it was often even... good? or at least... not bad? he thinks that even if hakoda isn’t a professional expert, he has a certain.... je ne sais quoi, if you will.

((DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF DILF))

sokka sees his new stepfather and immediately falls in love because he’s that kind of dumb bitch. (the core of this au is that i cant breathe thinking about sokka falling in love with his hot young stepmom his age who his dad doesnt even want to fuck. like. i CANT. sokka masturbates to ‘hand caught in the washing tub’ fantasies which are even more absurd for requiring zuko to be DOING LAUNDRY. i find it so funny.)

bato watches them at the wedding feast while hakoda is very clearly trying to treat zuko as an Equal Adult Partner and mostly managing to seem like someone having a serious conversation with a seven year old about the game they’ve made up. zuko is clearly enamored with it, soaking up the attention, blushing and doing his best to Bravely Flirt, which at one point includes awkwardly attempting to feed Hakoda by hand. bato has to excuse himself to have a teary eyed giggle, hoping that Kya is in the spirit world looking down and laughing with him. he can’t resent the kid even a little bit, when hakoda is sitting there looking so incredibly fucking befuddled as to what he’s supposed to do with this star struck infant he’s legally wed to

anyways all of this... is very funny. their wedding night... is less so. zuko does not take the rejection from hakoda very well, especially because he’d been caught wanting. HE’S the one who should be rejecting hakoda. and he catastrophizes almost immediately about his potential value to the water tribe, his future treatment, that endless inescapable freezing cold loneliness is the good ending for him here... hakoda, meanwhile, drops zuko off at his home, reassuringly informs him that there’s NOTHING else expected of him and he will be well taken care of, and books it to bato’s. bato refuses to let him in on grounds of ‘you can’t sleep under the same shelter as me on your wedding night to that kid, have a fucking brain’, and he ends up crashing at sokka’s.

sokka, who had KNOWN that his dad wouldnt, but also upon seeing zuko and zuko’s awkward flirting was like... but how COULDNT he???? sokka is relieved.

the core of this fic is that i find it endlessly hilarious for zuko to try and seduce his husband while sokka simps around zuko and bato tries to be heartbroken or betrayed but mostly ends up with a giant case of hysterical schadenfreude. but the thing that CLINCHED it for me, like THE scene. several years after being married, settled into their life. they’re partners and they see each other as people. and zuko just fucking snaps one night

he just kisses him, desperate and clawing and climbing and maybe a little drunk. he knows hakoda is going to push him away, maybe even hit him, but he doesn’t care anymore, he doesn’t care. he can do anything he wants to him as long as he just-- finally does something. zuko is 21 and married to the surface of the sun and the surface of the sun jr is his best friend and clearly in love with him-- so clearly not even zuko can miss it-- and like. listen. listen. zuko is not a patient person. but he’s been patient for this. he waited and he matured and he is a fucking amazing husband and he wants this, he wants him. he wants to be wanted.

but hakoda doesn’t push him away. hakoda doesnt yell at him, or hit him. hakoda gentles the kiss into something soft and closed lipped. he pulls away slowly, and his eyes are so sad for zuko, so pitying. he strokes his cheek with the back of his hand so gently. he says, I’m sorry. I don’t want you.

and zuko daddy issues fire nation swallows

and he nods

and he leaves, even though its his own fucking house

and he knows he’s never going to be good enough

like FUUUCK i am OBSESSED WITH THAT

[holylulusworld]

Interest

Request: Have you ever considered writing a mafia!reader x Dean? like maybe he need more money to help Sam in school but what he earn isn't enough so he start to hustle at pool but then he plays one of her men and when they took him to her, she doesn't punish him because she remember he and Sam were the only one not afraid to be her friends in school. She gives him one of her clean activity so he can help Sam and stay safe. I think it would be an interesting scenario to see 

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Mobster!Reader

Characters: Gadreel ‘the slammer’ Angel, Bobby ‘Papa’ Singer, Gabriel ‘dog around’ Angel, Ruby ‘the dame’ Demon

Warnings: angst, language, mobster business, mentions of abuse during childhood (implied), fluff

A/N: Please excuse the awful mobster nicknames. 😉; Gabriel and Gadreel are brothers for my story. (Please consider their surname, just like Ruby’s a joke)

Part 1 - Debts

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“Enough, Gadreel,” you slam your hands onto the desk, glaring at the tall man. “You tried to bring Dean Winchester to the cleaners. Unlike you, he admitted that he tried to trick you and the others. Gabriel made a joke, Jimmy shrugged, calling himself an idiot. You are the only one not stopping to complain.”

“He tricked your men,” Gadreel grunts, jaw tense he holds your gaze. “If we show weakness, we lose everything you worked for, just like your father.”

“I said enough!” now you furiously grab the stapler to smash it into the wall. “I punished him. He had to quit his job, pay 15 percent of his income to me and you got your money back. Lousy two-hundred and fifty bucks, I may add. Jimmy lost six-hundred bucks,” you rub your forehead, not believing you have to explain yourself to one of your men. 

“That guy showed no respect, Y/N. He will get you into trouble and I am afraid it will not end well for him either,” arms crossed over his chest Gadreel won’t change his mind.

“Dean apologized. I know you do not like him or my decision but you’ll have to live with the fact I did not kill someone who only tried to make fast money to help his brother pay for Stanford. The brothers were the only ones not scared to play with me,” Gadreel’s features soften, knowing about your miserable childhood.

“Boss, I am worried, is all,” you nod, rounding the desk to pat Gadreel’s cheek. “I don’t want to lose you too. You’re the little sister I never had.”

“Gade, you are one of my best men and I appreciate your worry, but Dean won’t get me into trouble. Now back to the numbers. Do I need to know anything else?”

“How is he doing, Bobby? Do you think it was the right decision to let him work here?” Bobby nods, pointing toward Dean who works on a car. The muscles in his arms flex when he lifts a tire to carry it toward the car and you feel your stomach do somersaults.

“Boy is good at his job, Y/N. Talented, fast, and a hard-working man. Worked overtime yesterday to help me fix another car,” Bobby hums, watching Dean work at the car, fixating the tire. “If he paid his debts, I’d like to keep him, boss.”

“Me too,” you giggle, bumping your hips against Bobby’s. “I never thought I met the boy who gave me my first kiss again. It is an odd feeling having him around. Dean is so…,” in lack of the right word you look at Bobby.

“Normal? Not used to doing anything illegal?” Bobby offers, giving you a warm smile. “I know you never wanted to take over the family business, but you are doing well kiddo. Dean, he’s a nice guy, and maybe he’ll bring a bit of normalcy into your life.”

“Normalcy or another life lost because of me? Do you believe my concurrence will not take advantage of me having a normal guy in my life? Dean would always be in danger, Gadreel made me see my mistake,” you sigh, not taking your eyes off Dean.

“That is bull, you know it. Gadreel is a jealous idjit, nothing else. Dean is a good guy and the old times are over. We are civilized, make deals, and have conversations instead of killing each other. This town is peaceful thanks to you and your men,” your godfather pecks your cheek before he calls for Dean.

“Lunch, boy. Look who came around to join us,” Dean smiles cheekily, waving at you. “Y/N will have lunch with us, and you can discuss your debts, interest and if she needs more practice to become as good as you at hustling pool,” Bobby snickers when Dean nods eagerly.

“I like the pie, sweetheart,” Dean chokes on his words, looking at you with wide, even fearful eyes. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” You chuckle, patting Dean’s hand to let him know it was nothing to worry about.

“I remembered you like pie, Dean. But,” clearing your throat you place the fork onto your plate, becoming serious, “the pie is not the only reason I came here. You see, you paid back eight-hundred bucks over the last weeks.”

“Do I need to pay interest too?” desperately looking at you Dean let out a deep sigh when you shake your head. 

“Bobby wants you to stay and work for him when you are done. He’s impressed and likes you, Dean,” you offer, glancing at Dean. “You’ll have 15 percent more per month when your debts are paid.”

“I make more money here minus 15 percent than at my old job. It’s just,” you nod, clearing your throat as Dean tries to tell you he doesn’t like your kind of business.

“The garage is one of my few legal businesses, Dean. Nothing illegal, I swear,” he gives you a soft smile, holding out his hand to seal the deal. “I appreciate you want to work for me, Mr. Winchester.”

“Dean, ma’am. I am not my father,” you groan at the mention of Dean’s father. “You never liked him…”

“He was an ass, Dean. All he did was yelling at you, forcing you to raise your brother and not caring if you got anything for lunch. Your father was, excuse my language, an asshole,” adamant your cross your arms over your chest. “And he ruined our first kiss.”

“My ass was black and blue,” Dean grins, stealing another bite of the pie you bought, “but the kiss was worth it, Y/N.”

“It was,” you smirk, leaning closer to remove a crumb from Dean’s lips with your thumb. His tongue pokes out to lick it off your digit and you feel your heart flutter. “You know, it was my first kiss, Winchester.”

“I am shocked, sweetheart,” snickering Dean looks at you, giving you a boyish smile. “Never thought you were such a prude. Never been kissed at the age of eight.”

“How about we talk about permanent employment tonight? We can have dinner and discuss the details. I’d like to talk about your living situation too,” you watch Dean’s face fall. “I know you live at a motel close to the garage.”

“Last month, I didn’t have enough money for rent and Sammy’s study. I had to choose and,” while you watch Dean, adoration in your eyes, he feels ashamed.

“You are a good big brother, Dean, the best,” you get up to peck his cheek. He’s nervously mumbling something when you do it again. “I own the house across the street to my house. I wanted to sell it or rent it out. You can live there until you found a new apartment.”

Dean wants to protest, but you grip his chin tightly, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“I wasn’t asking, Dean. You played with my men, stole their money so I have no other choice and must keep an eye on you,” when he finally nods you pat his cheek, nodding before you leave the room, swallowing the lump in your throat.

How should you admit you want him to be around? How could you explain you missed someone normal, someone, who has no blood on his hands in your life?

Would Dean even understand how it feels to be surrounded by people who took lives?

“Burger, pizza, and pie,” Dean smiles widely at your choice of food. “I think I died and ended up in heaven.”

“Back to business before you pass out,” you snicker, watching Dean stuff food into his mouth. “I got a contract prepared. You will get the wage you got, plus the missing 15 percent. If you keep up the good work, you’ll get more in a few months.”

“Sounds fair to me,” nibbling at a fry Dean looks at the contract. “Shall I sign it tonight or tomorrow?”

“You should read it first, Dean. Maybe I included you will sell your soul to me or something,” you tease, poking Dean’s upper arm, causing him to chuckle.

“If you are the devil, I’d sell my soul to you in the blink of an eye, sweetheart. I mean, not that I am stupid, I know your business, it’s filled with violence, blood, and illegal stuff, still, you kinda kept a part of the ‘old’ Y/N.” Dean watches you swallow thickly, not wanting to give away you had to do things you hate.

“I am not the girl from back then, Dean. I did things, awful things to keep my father’s empire. Not that I wanted to, but I am not innocent either,” bringing your bottle of beer to your lips you sigh deeply.

“Anyone in your position would’ve killed me, or at least broke my patella. You showed mercy, Y/N,” Dean gives you a soft smile, followed by a grin. “Do you remember when we stole booze from my dad?”

“Damn, we were drunk as fuck,” you giggle, stealing a fry from Dean’s plate. “My father, he didn’t let me leave my room for two weeks. I could only go to school and back.”

“Dad, he,” nodding you watch Dean nervously play with his beer, peeling at the label. “John showed me what happens if I ever dare to drink before I turn twenty-one. Maybe that’s the reason I barely drink anything harder than beer.” You would laugh at Dean’s words but now you imagine what John did to your friend.

“If anything does not feel right for you, Dean, you have the right to tell me so. I want to know if any of my men treat you badly or threatens you,” you hand Dean another beer while he gives you a soft smile. “You are officially under my protection, Dean Winchester.”

He looks up at you, giving you a cocky grin. “Always wanted to have my private bodyguard, sweetheart. Sammy will freak out.”

“How is he? Did he grow even more?” Dean huffs, nodding. “Don’t tell me he’s taller than you,” you poke your finger into Dean’s chest, snickering as he nods again.

“He’s taller, freaking sasquatch, Y/N,” whilst Dean gets his phone out to show you the latest pictures of his brother, someone enters the room without knocking.

Gadreel does not like you placed your hand onto Dean’s shoulder to have a look at his phone.

“Boss, Ruby said she got all the things of that guy,” your head snaps upward watching Ruby, one of the few women in your organization, waltz into the room. 

“The guy has a name, Gadreel. As long as he’s under my protection, you’ll pay him respect, as much as he did by apologizing and admitting his mistakes. It takes courage to do so, don’t you think?” Gadreel nods, but you can see the anger in his eyes. 

“I got everything, including a freaking huge collection of Busty Asian Beauties magazines,” Ruby smirks, watching a blush creep into Dean’s cheeks. “Even the early ones. I must admit, I am impressed.”

“Uh-erm, those are not all mine,” Dean stammers, playing with the napkin on his lap. “Some are from my dad.”

“Don’t be ashamed,” Ruby hops onto the table, stealing fries from Dean’s plate. “I must say, you’ve got a great taste. I liked Voluptuous Asian Lovelies, vintage but damn hot.”

“Can we stop talking about magazines and come to the point where you explain why you let him move into the house you wanted to sell?” Gadreel will not let up, even dares to step into your personal space, causing Ruby to step between you and the tall man. “You shouldn’t benefit his behavior. He shouldn’t live in that house.”

“You are right,” Gadreel smirks, hearing you will give in. “Dean should live here, in my house to make sure he’s safe from any enemy,” you purse your lips, glaring up at Gadreel. “I do not like your tone, Gadreel. I never thought the day would come that you are not the most trusted person among my men.”

“Boss, Y/N,” gasping Gadreel visually flinches at your words. “I only tried to keep you safe. Spare you another mistake.”

“Another mistake,” you laugh bitterly before your hand collides with his cheek. “My husband was not a mistake. I loved him, Gade. I know you never respected him, but I did love him. I dare you to ever mention him again.”

“Gadreel, brother,” Gabriel steps into the room, “how dare you to talk about him. We agreed to never mention that person again.”

“Why?” Gadreel furrows his brows. “As no one dares to admit he was a rat, sneaking his way into Y/N’s heart, bed, and house? Do you remember what I had to do to keep you safe?” 

“I’ll never forget, Gadreel. The man saving me back then was my friend, my sworn ally. Are you still that man or did jealousy and anger change you, Gadreel?” the room falls silent as he looks at you, giving you a sad smile.

“I am sorry, Y/N. I…I crossed a line and need to ask for your forgiveness. It will never happen again…” Gadreel excuses himself, almost running out of the room.

“What the fuck was that?” Ruby blurs out. “I’ll check on him,” she looks at Dean’s phone, licking her lips. “Nice little brother, though. Maybe bring him around next time…”

“Ruby!” She smirks, running out of the room to talk to Gadreel.

“That’s the bedroom, the bathroom is through this door. My bedroom is at the end of the hallway. Kitchen on the first floor,” you show Dean the guest room, while he looks around the large room.

“Y/N, Gadreel was right,” Dean looks at you, feeling his heart beat faster when you step closer to place one hand onto his heart, “I shouldn’t…” you press your lips to Dean’s, cupping the back of his neck. 

“I decide who I let into my life, Dean. If you want to stay, you will stay. Your brother can come around if he wants to visit you,” pecking his lips again you smile as Dean cradles your face to kiss you back, a bit too eager. “Slow down, tiger. Let’s see if you can keep up with my poker skills.”

“Sweetheart, you met your master…”

>> Part 3

SPN Forever Tags

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A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.