#We truly never know what people are going through.

[boshradaoud1]

21.06.2024

Yesterday, after what felt like an eternity, Ezzideen and I finally spoke for nearly an hour. Despite the lack of good internet, phone calls are working again!

We talked about everything, just like we used to before the war.

I am writing this because of something that left me feeling utterly devastated, sad, and helpless yesterday. While we were talking, there was this incredibly annoying and ominously close noise. It was terrifying, making you feel like death is lurking nearby. You don’t know if you’re going to lose someone you love in the next moment.

I was terrified and asked him if that noise was normal. He told me it was totally okay, that they had gotten used to it. No need to worry, he said.

It was the sound of a quadcopter!

I am trying so hard to understand what people in Gaza are going through, but even if we spent our entire lives trying, we could never truly grasp their suffering.

I am doing everything I can to be supportive, but the situation is beyond crazy.

Please, help me get my best friend and his family out of Gaza as soon as the border opens. It is more urgent than we can even comprehend!

@blackpearlblast - @sar-soor - @stil-lindigo - @fairuzfan -

@ibtisams - @fallahifag - @vakarians-babe - @plomegranate -

@nabulsi - @fancysmudges - @el-shab-hussein -

@thenewgothictwice - @edwordsmyth - @houseofpurplestars -

@kyra45 - @sayruq - @bignightengineer - @the-lady-maddy-2

@kyra45-helping-others - @h1raya-m4nawari

[warblogs17282]

My overall thoughts on Apology Tour (It's actually an 10/10 episode) and an in depth analysis of the episode.

The scene at the start was so fucking good, starts to place the seeds of doubt with Blitz, he almosts gets the point at the start multiple times before backtracking on that instantly, glad the harvest moon festival assassination attempt was brought up, I cannot wait for that to be mentioned again.

And then we get to the apology list, Blitz being in incredible denial about WHY people hate him and think a simple sorry will fix everything, this gets brought up later as well with Stolas fucking chatting shit to Blitz for it, which Blitz needed to hear so badly.

Then we get to Stolas pre song, he really doesn't want to shittalk Blitz, proof that Stolas still cares for Blitz, showing us that Stolitz still has a really strong chance of healing and coming back together with the power of healthy communication.

And then we get to the song, holy fucking shit it is top tier, it's a banger and talks about all the problems they have, how Stolas doesn't want to hurt Blitz, how he's hurt Stolas, with lines like 'I don't think you meant to hurt me' and a massive self reflection on Stolas' part as well. Making it damn well clear to Stolas what he wants, needs and the problems in their relationships, making communication about it later so much easier, POP THE FUCK OFF MY PRINCE. 'I don't think it meant anything at all'. This just shows one key flaw with Stolitz, based on Blitz's reaction in the full moon episode, Stolas now thinks that Blitz entirely never cared for him, something that Blitz HAS to address, eventually they'll get to that point but for now, Stolas is just singing his heart and true emotions out, playing all of his cards on the table for Blitz to see.

Then we get to this part, drunk Stolas and Blitz talking, Blitz actually talks about things properly to Stolas for once, and Stolas calls Blitz out on his bullshit constantly, which I love, because it will force Blitz to go over everything he's mentioned, allowing for actual healthy communication in the future between those two WHICH I FUCKING LOVE SO MUCH. Blitz gets a few issues off his chest during the whole part as well, which, while we're not fully there yet, will also cause Stolas to reflect on a lot of shit as well. FORCING BLITZ TO REALISE WHY SO MANY PEOPLE HATE HIM, AS STOLAS POINTS OUT WITH THE EXISTANCE OF THE PARTY. BOTH OF THEM ARE GOING THROUGH SO MANY EMOTIONS RIGHT NOW AND I LIVE AND DIE FOR IT.

This face, this fucking face. It's finally snaps for Blitz about how he's fucked up so much, what he has to do better all that shit, BLITZ WILL HAVE A MAJOR SELF REFLECTION EPISODE, AND THIS FACE PROVES IT, HE KNOWS WHAT STOLAS WANTS, AND HE'S DAMN WELL GOING TO LET STOLAS HAVE IT.

The way Blitz just, let's him have this dance and eventual fuck with this guy, it proves he's learning, he's not being defensive, he's just letting it play on regardless of how hurt he is, as stated later, it starts with just letting Stolas have this moment, to truly feel happy again, which shows he's putting Stolas' feelings first, and being a good person, which will help him communicate better to Stolas in the future, BECAUSE BLITZ IS LEARNING.

Blitz starts with denial, his trademark defense tactic, trying to shift the blame off himself and onto everyone else, and Verosika putting Blitz in his fucking place, he needs to hear about how he hurt her, about WHY the party exists in the first place, without him realising both of those things Blitz cannot heal, which is what Verosika is trying to get him to realise, how he can hurt people, which with how Blitz slowly gets down and changes his emotions as you can see on his face, Blitz fucking gets it, he's starting to learn to be a better person, to be able to be loved back, to be the person Stolas deserves, to be better for himself.

'I don't want to be this way, not forever.' With the context, this line hits so fucking hard, like a truck. Blitz is actually learning from his mistakes, with her, and Stolas being the two major points, Blitz is going to start an arc to face everything that's haunting him, to get over his problems, face them all, to be the better man for the person Blitz truly loves, Stolas. Everything has undeniably been realised for Blitz, and there's no going back for him, he will learn from his mistakes, and Stolitz can finally be back better, once that healing and mutual communication has been completed.

Stolas looks genuinely happy, like he's found someone, someone to help him through his troubles, to be someone Stolas needs in his life during this point in time. And you know what Blitz does? While he's still clearly hurt and disgusted, he lets Stolas have this moment, to be happy, proving on some level that he does deeply care for Stolas, sure Blitz does that really angry for a moment, but Verosika levels Blitz out with this line 'It just starts with saying, good for him, hope he gets laid.' He quickly simmers down the anger from that encounter, on better talking terms with Verosika, realising what he has to do now (just letting Stolas have this moment) and what to do in the future.

Sure Blitz is mostly angry and upset at the moment, but this starts an arc with Blitz, one of learning and understanding things that he needs to fix to ever be back with Stolas, he cannot deny anything any more for long, Blitz has flown right into the emotional core of everything and he will reflect on it, learn from it. To not be how he was, not forever. To be better for himself, to be better for his lover, Stolas. It's clear that Stolas still has feelings for Blitz, as the song and drunken talk they had shows. Stolitz will come back, not soon. But they will be. We've entered the arc where both Blitz and Stolas heal themselves, eventually being back on actual healthy communicating terms. Both of them don't want to be the ways they were. Not forever.

tldr, I've gone in depth about the episode, why I think it's amazing writing, and where Stolitz goes in the future. THEY WILL BE HAPPY EVENTUALLY. This is easily my new favourite episode, the best of the best, and I only pray that Vivzie can keep this train of amazing storytelling going.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.14

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Ch. Notes: Angst, action, gun violence, character death

Summary: Things quickly escalate as Fisk tries to end the struggle for power once abd for all.

An: ... So it's been a minute. Sorry about that and frankly idk when the next update will be, hopefully sooner. However, whatever you thinks going to happen here, I don't think you'll see this coming.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wilson Fisk didn’t often smile. He was a sad and angry man that did his best to keep a neutral scowl on his face. What was there to smile about when he had lost everything. His wife, his daughter, his freedom, all irreplaceable. Being in prison while his wife and daughter were being buried is an ache that will never truly get over.

The void inside of him can only be filled by power and control. He will have the city and he will claim it for all that he has lost. He knew that to be a irrefutable fact.

Now, his smile was something straight out of a nightmare. It sat lopsided on his round face. It was there and it was horrifying. His smile only widens as he heard hushed voice over his phone.

When the line goes dead, he claps his hands together. He leans back in his desk chair. The smile doesn’t leave his features.

“Sleeping beauty has opened his eyes.”

Plans change at a wits notice, and things pivot, but goals could still be accomplished. Fisk wants Dragos gone and like a shark surrounding an injured surfer he smells blood in the water. It is time for him to strike.

Bowling was the activity that you came up with. Something in a place full of people, something that you enjoyed much in your youth, something that Pietro was unequivocally skilled at.

“Another strike ladies are you even trying?” Pietro gloats after looking at the scoreboard.

You might’ve been putting in a decent amount of effort, Wanda as well, but the two of you could tell Natasha was handing the man the win.

“Natasha, maybe take him down a peg,” you whisper in her ear.

“I thought we were supposed to be cheering him up, lisichka,” she taunts you with a smile.

“He can be happy without his ego being stroked,” Wanda puffs out in annoyance.

Natasha laughs at their bitterness, but nonetheless when it was her turn she quickly bowled a strike.

“Let’s go Natty,” you clap for her and Wanda let’s out a whistle.

“Is this where I realize you've been laying me win all night,” Pietro pouts.

Nat plops her hand on his shoulder, “I’m afraid so."

You all share a laugh and for moment everything feels normal. You could almost forget your ties and affiliations and feel like normal people. The moments were becoming more present in your life to the domestic nature of your relationship with Wanda and Natasha.

By now you should’ve known that sitting in any of those feelings did you no good.

When your phone rings you answer it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n you will get through this. Do not let this be the end of what we’ve worked for, you don’t- you don’t need me malysh.”

“Papa? You’re awake, what are you you-”

“Y/N! Listen please, just take care of our family. I called you because, I trust you.”

As he speaks on the phone you gather Wanda, Pietro, and Natasha urgently. You have to go, it’s urgent. They can tell you’re shaken and when you put the phone on speaker they understand.

“Papa I don’t understand,” your voice trembles as you speak.

“Tell Flora, that my love with her doesn’t end with my last breath. Tell my Pietro that he’s the heart of all of this. Tell Wanda that all I want from her is for her to be happy.”

Natasha is the one that ushers you all into the car as you begin to shut down slightly.

“You can’t do this to us again papa,” your voice cracks in the end.

“It’s out of my hands,” you can hear fear in his voice and it terrifies you.

You hear a dark chuckle in the background of the call, “He’s right you know, it’s not in his hands.”

The smile in Fisk’s voice is present and it scares you, but you bluff the man.

“Haven’t you already made this play before, and it didn't work out for you did it?”

“Only because you interfered, and I got you back pretty significantly for that didn't I, sweetheart?”

Your jaw clenches, “Fisk , take a moment to think, really think what you're about to do. We are already enemies, in competition for control of the city, but that’s just business. Every move you’ve made recently has been personal. Going to war over turf it’s respectable, but if we go to war over family, there’s only one way this ends.”

“This is why I enjoy you so much kid, you have such an intelligent mind. Even under pressure you string together the right words. However, you’ve got it all wrong. There’s always only been one way this is going to end,” you hear the sound of the gun clicking.

“We will leave the city, just don't shoot him,” Pietro finds his voice.

You, Wanda, and Natasha look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I didn't know we had guests on the phone with us, what a surprise. Keep talking little Maximoff, I like what you're offering.”

Pietro begins spewing nonsense, “We will disappear from New York and never come back. We will cut all ties with city and anything in it. It will be yours for the taking. Please, just don’t shoot him.”

“Anyone else want to beg for his life?”

Wanda’s mouth opens and closes a few times as her eyes water. You take the initiative instead.

“Wilson, you lost your family. You’re wife and daughter were taken from you. Good people caught in the crossfire of your criminal actions. Who helped you get back on your feet after you got out of jail ? Who kept a corner of New York for you? Who gave you a jump start on your way back to this lifestyle? Who was there for you? The history between the two of you isn’t as convoluted as you’re making it out to be.”

Kingpin takes a pause, “That’s in the past.”

“It’s only history because you are making it that way. We have made a good relationship between our business until recently,” you keep him on the phone.

Natasha’s only about 5 minutes from the hospital, you just need to stall a bit longer.

“I’m not a beggar or a dog, Y/Ln. I don’t take scraps,” he says in a menacing tone.

You pause when he says your last name. It’s not something you hear regularly, you don’t ever use it. How’d he know about it?

“Quiet now Y/Ln, surprised I know that name? That’s not the only thing I know about you sweetheart. I know something that the Maximoff’s have been hiding from you, something that might sway your loyalty."

You look at Wanda and Pietro who were already on edge, but worse than that, they avoid your gaze.

“This is my family, my loyalty won’t ever change,” you speak strongly.

He chuckles, “Not even when I tell you they killed your mother.”

“What?”

You’re in front of the hospital now, but you don’t move to exit the car. It feels like something has pierced through your heart.

“They killed your mother. Ever wonder, why she didn’t come after you, why she didn’t bombard or harass you after you left? She was dead within a week. Your father was debriefed, and relocated shortly after your graduation. These people sweetheart, before your family, they’re the mob.”

You want to say something to combat him, to say it doesn’t matter, but you couldn’t say that earnestly.

You push your feelings aside for a second, “We’ve both lost a lot, Fisk. Things that we can’t get back. Things that fuel us to want more than what the world has offered us.”

“We’re alike in that way sweetheart, robbed of a happy ending. Forced to create our own,” he’s trying to flip you but you aren't buying it.

“Losing another parental figure in my life isn't a happy ending for me,” you grit your teeth.

Natasha pulls you out of the car and starts giving hand signal directions.

“I sympathize with you, Y/n. You’re not one of them, you never were. I’ll tell you what, the Maximoff’s leave, but you stay and work for me. That’s my offer.”

“We aren't leaving without Y/n,” Wanda finds her words for the first time in the conversation.

“It’s either that or I put a bullet in his head. You’ve got 15 minutes to think it over, when I call back you better have an answer,” he hangs up.

“Y/n,” Pietro starts, but you don't look at him.

“We’ve got 15 minutes to save Dragos, that's what I'm focused on,” you dismiss his attempt at an explanation.

Natasha begins laying out a plan, “ We don’t know who in this building reports to Fisk, so we have to be careful if we go in. Dragos is supposed to have security at his door, I don't the guards there would be ours if Fisk is in the room.”

“We need a deliberate distraction,” you open the car door and reach into your bag.

You bring out your laptop and hook your phone to it. You knew what room Dragos was in with Fisk’s call you should be able to ping how many devices were around him.

“3 guards, outside the rooms. These are the phone numbers, names, home addresses, close family,” you memorize the information.

You see a group walking into the hospital and figure its your best chance to blend in, “We’ve got to go now.”

Wanda and Natasha hold frustration about the way you’re moving, but they follow you nonetheless.

“We don’t have a plan for this,” Wanda argues.

“Blend in get to the floor they’re on and then I’ll handle the guards. Once they’re dealt with Natasha will go in and disarm Fisk,” you say straying from the group you walked in with to another group heading for the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator you speak to Natasha, “Send people to these addresses make sure they get pictures, the quickest means please.”

When you step off the elevator you spot the guards. You send them individual text messages, with their names addresses and a threat to their loved ones by name.

You see 2 of 3 panic while the other one believes it’s a bluff. Natasha sends the pictures of their homes to you, and you forward them to the guards.

You see them pale instantly, the look at each other and bicker lightly. Wanda wants to go forward and strike, but you shake your head. You wait as one of the guards takes off running from the room. The other follows not even a second after. The third looks at his phone and then in the direction the others had ran before doing the same as they did.

“Natasha, we’ll be on the other side of the door one steady knock when he’s disarmed so we can get in,” you instruct her.

She doesn’t hesitate to nod at your orders. Before she goes Wanda squeezes her hand in a pleading manner, but Natasha reassures her with a soft look.

You wait with baited breath when Natasha enters the room. For a moment it’s silent, no struggle can be heard, but then there’s a gunshot.

Wanda’s the first one rushing to the room door, with Pietro and yourself directly behind her. Her hands on the handle as she’s attempts to yank the door open. You move her out of the way, and open the door first.

Instead of a cool metal, you feel a searing hot metal burning your chest.

“Why don’t you all file in, so we can talk,” Kingpin rests the gun on your chest and you shuffle into the room, eyes shooting across the room where Natasha grips her bloody arm.

Wanda and Pietro shuffle in, the red head immediately going to her wife’s side.

“Isn’t this a lovely little family affair?”

“Wilson, take the gun off of her. Your problem is with me, my family, they’ve done nothing wrong,” Dragos tries to reason with the man.

He digs the butt of the recently fired gun further into your chest and you grit your teeth, but refuse to break eye contact with the bald man.

“She is your strongest solider Dragos, she can take it. Y/n’s not even your blood, she’s your orphan project and you’ve raised her better than your incompetent children. She’s quick witted, brilliant, useful. I want her on my side,” Fisk eyes you with a shark like grin on his face.

“You’re out numbered,” Pietro reminds the man as he stands tall in room.

Fisk scoffs, “ Bed ridden patient, shot Russian, and girl with her gun to her chest. You and your sister aren’t enough to stop me, you could barely even run the business when I took your father out. None of the Maximoff’s have been running anything as of late. It’s all been Y/n, even before Wanda came back. She’s been the brains of this whole operation for a while now.”

“If you feel that way, then why would you go after Dragos first and not me?”

Fisk chuckles, “This information isn't something I've always known. I only had this epiphany a small time before I had an example made out of you.”

“I’ll never work for you,” you stand your ground.

“Then I’ll drop you where you stand and then I'll kill everyone in this room and own this cit-”

The gun was in your hand before he finished the sentence. You place it under his chin before cocking it back.

“Do it, kill me then sweetheart. This wouldn’t be your first time killing someone who just wanted to help you right? Poor little Lucas, didn’t even get the chance to grow up.”

You pull the trigger and instantly your face is covered in the mans blood. No one in the room saw it coming. You were usually better at not acting irrationally, but this time you had met your limit.

The gun drops from your hand and you rush out of the hospital without a single clue to where you were going.

“Go, someone go after her,” Dragos yells at his children and soon Wanda is on her feet.

“I will take care of it go,” Natasha reassures her.

Wanda’s eyes linger on her wife’s injured arms, “Wanda now.”

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

[lovebittenbyevans]

In Their Words | One Shot

Summary: When Oscar finally did an podcast interview with you

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x interviewer! Female Reader

Warnings: two cursed words

Author note: I was inspired by watching jay shetty podcast on youtube to write this. Enjoy reading!

My Masterlist

You sat in the chair across from him and moved the microphone toward you. You were nervous to do this but at the same time you were excited. You have been wanting to interview Oscar for a while now since he was always busy.

“We are ready to start.” The producer yelled making sure everyone heard him.

You clear your throat as the camera started rolling. You looked at him with a polite smile. “Oscar Piastri.”

He chuckles a bit. “Y/N.” He was wearing a black hoodie and comfortable blue jeans. He wanted to dress for himself for once and be comfortable.

“Welcome to in their words podcast.” You speak into the microphone.

Oscar leans back slightly in his chair and speaks into the microphone. “Thank you for having me.”

You let out a soft sigh. “Now, there is so much I want to ask but some stuff we can talk about off cameras as well.”

He laughed a bit. “Y/N, you and I have been friends for four years. You know you can ask me anything.” You rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth playfully. “Open book, huh?”

He laughed again. “Go ahead.” You clears your throat as you make eye contact with him. “My first question would be your lifestyle? What made you want to be so free.”

He rubbed his chin for a second before he answered your question. “As you know both my parents are rich and wealthy. I didn’t want a path where I had to be them. I wanted one of my own and just be careful with who I let in my life.”

“So, you wanted to be this sugar daddy for every woman you are with?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew how Oscar moved so well.

He let out a sigh and said. “No, I just like having women around me. Yes, I have money but I’m not stupid enough to let them use me. I truly care about my girlfriend Ruby.” At least he was being honest.

You nodded listening to him. “How long have you and Remi been together?”

Oscar made a thinking face. “On and off for almost a year and a half.”

“And do you feel like you are missing something from her? That’s why you don’t want to be fully committed.” You asked him another question.

He didn’t know how to answer that. He never thought about Ruby being his forever even though he did love her to an extent.

“I think when two people are enjoying each other's company and don't want to ruin their little bubble they have with them. It’s become a custom to it.” He explained the best way he could.

You just listen to him talk through the interview as you ask him more questions about him, his life mostly. You noticed sometimes Oscar only likes attention from people who matter to him.

“Charles, Lando and Lewis are the ones I’m closest to and they always have my back. Even when we see each other at events we have good conversations with each other.” He tells you.

You sit up a bit in your chair. “And I feel like I can come to you about anything as well.” He continues to talk.

“When I’m available.” You joked.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you get what I sent you?”

You gave him a side eye. “I did but you didn’t have to do that.” You were not about to reveal what he gave you on camera. You like to keep things private between you and him.

He looks at you while shaking his head. He knew what kind of person you are even though he always wanted to be here for you.

“Y/N, why don't you let me be–” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “I have this card sitting on my lap and I am going to ask you a few questions from people.” You truly don’t want to have this conversation on camera right now.

Oscar opens his mouth, but closes it. “Question one is do you ever see a future of you settling down with Remi?” You glance at the card and then at him.

He chuckles briefly. “Um, that’s a tough answer to give.”

You moved on to the next question. “If you were in a different universe what would your career be?”

“I always say I wanted to be a professor on college campus, tattoo artists or soccer player.” He answered truthfully.

You moved the microphone a bit. “And final question.” Your eyes widened when you saw the next question. You almost gasped. “Um.” You paused for a moment. “Could you see yourself being with Y/N? Would you be willing to explore with her and see if there is a chance?”

You felt your cheeks flush as he locked eyes with you. “My only answer would be a hundred percent yes.” You didn’t expect him to actually answer that so loudly.

“Ok.” You said. “Thanks for coming on my show Oscar.” You had to pull yourself together and be calm.

He smiled warmly. “Thank you so much for having me, Y/N.”

The producer yelled cut as you rose from your chair and walked off set. You walked out the door after thanking the crew for being on set. You headed straight to your car and unlocked the door with your car keys.

You open the door to your car when you hear Oscar call out to you. “Y/N, wait!” His Australian accent was thick.

He grabs your arm, turning you around to face him. “No, No, No.” You spoke first. “Did you not understand what you just did on camera?”

Oscar ran his hand through his hair. “Yes, but I don’t regret saying it.” You glare at him for a second. “O, fucking Remi!? You forgot you have a whole girlfriend and women?”

He rolled his eyes. “I am not taking it back. I meant what I said, Y/N.” Your heart was racing while looking at him.

You never saw him in that way ever. It never crossed your mind for you to be anything more with him.

“Have a good rest of your day, O.” You got inside your car, closing the door shut and immediately drove off.

Oscar stood there watching you drive away instead of talking to you. “Fuck!” He mumbles to himself.

[kurooandkenmasslut]

I would like to request a Megumi Fushiguro x reader, where Megumi is saved and Sukuna is defeated. Megumi remembers everything he did, including killing his sister and Gojo. He has a break down and the reader comforts him.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓.

ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ: ˢᵒʳʳʸ ⁿᵒⁿⁿⁱᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ!! ⁱ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ʲʲᵏ ˢ. ᵗʷᵒ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ⁿ ⁱ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗ!! ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ❁

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 stared emotionless at the white ceiling. suddenly taking interest of every brush stroke that can be seen. anything to get his mind off the chaos that has happened.

The two people that he held close, died. again. His teacher, the person that took him in, and the sweetest soul that god had to offer, the girl he grew up with and went to school with, died.

He was a mess. Dark circles lay under his eyes, looking like he never had sleep in a day of his life. And it was true, ever since that day, he hasn't been sleeping properly, even if you, his girlfriend, tried cooing him to sleep. it was a matter of time before he woke up in sweat from a nightmare, of them.

He hasn't been eating, and if he did, it would be to a minimal. The guilt of eating while his loved ones become angels above. He knew Gojo n' tsumiki would scold him for blaming himself, telling him he should know better. but at this rate what is?

As he lay in his bed, his phone on his nightstand buzzed, the light shining through the darkness of the room, the only source of light was the window next to him, although the sun was setting soon.

After a few notifications later, he heard a gentle pattern of knocks on the door. A slight scowl appeared on his face, his throat managing to rasp out, "Who is it?" to the person behind the door.

"It's me, 'gumi. can I come in?" You called out. his silence was making you nervous. that was until you got a "yeah,"

slowly creeping into you're boyfriends room, as if it was a dangerous territory you shouldn't and mustn't pass. you didn't wanna alert him and make any sudden moves.

In hand, you held a wooden tray. filled with all the food your sweet boyfriend likes, aswell as drinks.

Setting it down on the nightstand, there was still some space for you to lay in next to him, and so you did.

"You haven't been answering my texts or eating, gumi. you worry me, you know?" You mumble. you only got a hum back. You know he's grieving and you wanted to help in anyway you could.

Inspecting his face, his eyes were all puffy and his cheeks were a rosy red.

Wrapping your arms around him, taking in his body heat.

"You can talk to me, you know. don't take this all out on yourself, ya hear?" You say, your fingers interlocking in his raven dark hair. Slowly giving him a massage on his scalp, he closed his eyes, and that's when a tear slipped.

"I-I just.. fuck, why did they have to go? its not fair." Megumi mumbled, before the dam broke.

The dam that's been holding an angry ocean for all these years. and it broke on your chest, a sound of someone's muffled sobbing coming after.

massaging his scalp, you whisper sweet nothings into his ear. You truly wished he would recover soon, because seeing and hearing him like this shattered your heart like no other.

when the tears stopped and the sniffles started, megumi lifted his head, mumbling a "thank you, darlin',"

"no problem baby. let's say we watch a movie n' eat the snacks I brought, yeah?"

"That would be 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕, my love."

[velariscalling]

Poison - A Cassian Imagine

Characters: Cassian x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Cassian and Reader have some history, and when she captures him for Hybern, they pick up where they left off, despite how she may have just cursed him to death.

Warnings: Smut, oral (both receiving), restraints, wingplay for a sec, mentions/description of injury, mentions of death, Cassian is literally poisoned.

A/N: Ok my first smut is here, please be kind lol. I'm actually much more nervous posting this than I was with my first fic, which is crazy! Also, happy birthday to the wonderful @sarawritestories! I hope you like it my lovely <3

Disclaimer: GIF isn't mine - credit to whoever it belongs to.

“Very good work, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Cassian stifled a groan as he rolled his neck to the side, cracking the bones that had gone stiff in his slumber. The voices he heard continued, but muffled as if he were underwater, and his vision swam so much that he nearly gagged.

He moved to reach an arm up to rub the back of his neck, needing to relieve the dull ache he felt, when he realised his hands weren’t moving. They couldn’t move. The chains rattled around his wrists over the alarm sounding in his brain as he snapped back into action, seeing the world in stark clarity.

“Oh, you’re awake,” A melodic voice chirped up from a few metres away. Why did that voice sound so familiar? “I’m glad. I missed you, actually.”

Cassian lifted his head and his eyes focused on the female stood in the shadows, leaning against the wall casually. Something sinister glinted from her hands in the flickering light - something metal, he realised with a jolt. No. Remain calm. That’s the one thing he would never forget from his training - never let your opponent know what you’re truly feeling. Even if you’re completely shitting it. “What is this? Or better yet, who are you?” He asked with lethal calm, still training his eyes on the dark silhouette, coaxing her to take the bait and fear him.

A huff sounded from the darkness. “I’m hurt, Cassian,” She stepped forward, illuminating her features only slightly, but enough for him to make out her exaggerated pout. “Really hurt. Here I was thinking we could have had something, and you don’t even remember me? We are definitely not off to a good start.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot, sighing like a disappointed mother with a shake of her head.

He squinted, zoning in on her features. Her stature, her hair, her eyes. It wasn’t until his gaze met the intensity of her stare that the memories began to wash over him like ice cold water.

~~~

Leading an army into war was never going to be an easy task. Cassian knew this - it was not the first time he’s done so of course. But when so many of his front line had been struck down by Hybern soldiers, it was a little difficult to remain level-headed. For the first time in his centuries of experiences, Cassian felt like his control was slipping from his grasp.

People were coming at him from every direction, soldiers informing him of their comrades’ predicaments, and not a single one of these people seemed to scent the blood soaking through his leathers, or notice the wound gaping from his arm. Cassian winced every time something brushed against it or he had to move the arm, but continued to tend to the injured as much as he could before sending them to the healers tent.

“You’re hurt,” A soft voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned to look in the direction the voice had come from, only to spy a female, not looking to be more than a couple of centuries old. A healer, it seems.

“You would be the first to notice,” Cassian responded gruffly. He couldn’t help noticing how beautiful she was, like an angel come to help him during his time of need, but he quickly brushed off the thought, deeming it inappropriate in the current time and place. And frankly, irrelevant. “It’s fine, I have things to sort out-”

“Cassian, if I may,” she interrupted, eyes careful as she gauged his reaction to her urgency. “You’ll bleed out if you don’t get someone to take a look at this soon. Please, come with me to my tent and I will fix you up. It should only take a few minutes at most.”

Cassian’s brain ticked back and forth, weighing up the options. He knew that his priority should be his men - it's always been the army first, himself later - but she was just so inviting. And as the gash on his arm throbbed with pain, he found himself nodding at her in agreement.

Her tent was small, and more or less bare. He didn’t even notice the lack of a bed, or even a blanket to sleep on. Only a chair which she gently coaxed him onto as she opened a small kit, mixing together an ointment to apply to his arm. She left it on the side to sit for a moment, presumably to let the compounds mould together before use, and approached him with a wet rag.

The way she peered down at him intently as she cleaned his arm had his cheeks flushing from something other than pain and stress. He silently thanked his already red cheeks for concealing any giveaway that the intimidating general was really just a big softie. He flicked his eyes up to watch as she worked, and couldn’t help but take in all the details of her face: the slight squint as she concentrated, the way her eyes flicked back and forth to ensure there were no bits of dirt remaining in the blood, and how her tongue poked out between her teeth as she focused. There was something else about her as well that he couldn’t quite pin-point… something familiar, as if he recognised her, but also something- something wrong. Like her features had been rearranged to conceal someone he used to know.

“Do you often stare at your healers?” She asked as the stepped away to dispose of the rag, interrupting his train of thought. Her tone was chastising, but the ever so subtle cheek to her voice gave away the tease.

Cassian bristled, fumbling for a moment as he felt like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t, and frantically searched for a way to jump back on top of the situation as she shook her ointment, seemingly satisfied that it was ready. “Only the pretty ones,” He grinned smugly, completely in control in that effortless, almost arrogant way of his.

The healer raised her eyebrows as she approached him, an amused glint in her eyes as she steadied his arm with one hand and prepared the ointment with the other. “This might hurt,” she said shortly, before pressing it against his wound. Cassian hissed in pain, gritting his teeth together to try to dampen the blow. This was worse than actually getting the gash in the first place, he thought.

A few moments passed, which felt ridiculously long to Cassian, until the female straightened her back and took her hands away from his arm. “All done,” she quipped, before turning away from him to dispose of her equipment once again. Cassian unclenched his fists at his side in an attempt to relax, despite the tingling in his arm resembling a dance troupe of a million needles tapping away on his bloody cut. “You might want to sit there for a moment, Cassian. Not everyone reacts well to the medicine, I would like to make sure you’re okay before you get back out there.”

Cassian shook his head softly. “I’ll be fine, thank you for your care,” he began, ready to brush off her advice with a wave of his hand. He attempted to stand up from the chair, using the armrests to push himself up, but he barely rose a few inches before his head swam as if he’d been dealt an uppercut to the chin, and he fell back into the seat with a gasp. His body was suddenly heavier than he’d ever felt it before, every single limb feeling like it had at least three sand bags attached. “Shit…” he mumbled, his vision scattered with sparkling dots and patches of darkness.

“Just relax, Cassian…”

Her voice sounded distant, like a call to slumber, beckoning him to fall victim to the darkness. And as his head lulled to the side, he allowed it to coax him into the abyss, just as he saw the glamour flicker off her face.

~~~

“Y/N.”

“Surprise, Cassian,” She grinned as she stepped closer, completely leaving the darkness in order for Cassian to see her face - her real face.

“So, you poisoned me,” Cassian deadpanned, after his memories fully returned. “You posed as a healer, and infected me with poison through my cut.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she watched it all come back to him, piece by piece fitting together in a puzzle to create a complete picture. “And didn’t I put on such a spectacular performance?” Cassian rolled his eyes, averting his eyes from her piercing gaze as she continued talking at him. “You were so enamoured with me. And all from one pure act of kindness? So easy to please, General. I’m just a little offended I didn’t look like me at the time.”

“Enough changing the subject,” Cassian growled, growing increasingly irritated, not only at the female in front of him but also the fact that he was not in control. He needed control. “Who glamoured you? The King himself? I wouldn’t put it past his petty ass.”

Y/N scoffed, delighted to see his agitation. “Does it matter? You’re here now, exactly as planned.” She ran a menacing finger down the edge of the blade in her hand, watching the shine of the metal. The contrast was stark - the deadly glint of the dagger against her soft, delicate skin. But Cassian knew that that was her own, constant glamour. There was nothing delicate about her - she was more deadly than any weapon.

As Cassian tested the chains round his wrists binding him to the armrests, he realised the grave mistake he made. He roared in pain as the chains sizzled his flesh, and Y/N couldn’t help but bite her lip to surpress a grin at the way his muscles tensed and rippled as he writhed. “I wouldn’t bother, darling. Faebane chains. Aren’t they fantastic?”

Gritting his teeth, Cassian opened his previously clenched eyes, setting on her with an air of distaste. “Anything else up your sleeve?” The question was dry, sick to death of the games already, but the excitement practically vibrating off Y/N told him she wasn’t finished with him just yet.

“Well, maybe just one tiny detail. You may have woken up from that poison, but that doesn’t mean it’s not still in your system. You’ll die without the antidote.” She said idly, eyebrows raised with a slight mocking pout on her lips as she examined her fingernails without a care in the world.

Cassian startled. He knew there was more to the story, of course there was, but that is not what he was expecting. His mind whirred with a way to get out of this situation, a way to turn the tables in his favour, but he kept coming up short. “What’s the point, Y/N? Huh? You never even told me why I’m here in the first place, I think it’s only fair that if I’m gonna die, I should at least know why I’m going down.”

“Well of course I was going to tell you, I’m not a monster,” Y/N laughed - actually laughed. “You’re here because we can’t have you commanding those Illyrian bastards to victory. Without you, they’re lost, leaving the goal wide open for a win for my side. Silly little baby, aren’t you?” She went to tap his nose - condescending little bitch, Cassian thought, and turned his head to the side with a grimace, which Y/N did not like one bit. That playful grin on her face was gone in an instant, replaced by a face so stoney and cold that even the worst of creatures would be afraid. In that split second of rage, Y/N grabbed Cassian’s jaw with her whole hand and yanked him back to face her where she was suddenly inches away from him. “That was rude, Cassian.”

Then, he snapped. He finally snapped, and her hand around his jaw, commanding him as if she were his superior was the breaking point. Her control was his breaking point as he spat in her face, completely losing his grip on the leash to his anger. But Y/N… oh no, Y/N wasn’t so easily perturbed, and as Cassian’s rage subsided and he watched her eye him with malice, he remembered as much.

“So feisty,” she purred as she wiped her face with her hand, eyes not leaving his pissed expression for a minute. She just loved the way his jaw ticked with anger, and how sharp the lines of his face became as he watched her every move, just like he used to do… well, with less anger and more lust. “You used to love when I took control, Cassian, remember?”

Gods, he remembered, of course he did. He remembered their secret rendezvous, the way they snuck around not to get caught. He remembered how she would crawl on top of him agonisingly slowly, and kiss all the way up his abs and chest, leaving her scent all over his body. Or how they’d wind up cramped in a tiny storage closet, her back pressed against the wall and her nails digging into his skin as he took her as his own, stifling their sounds of pleasure at the mere whisper of someone walking past. But what he loved most was when his face was buried between her thighs as she crossed her ankles, locking him in, his own hips rutting against the bed for any sort of friction he could get amidst the desperation to draw high after high from her.

“Oh,” Her voice dipped in honey shook him out of his reverie as he remembered where he was, hands bound and body poisoned. He caught her eyes once more, and a gasp escaped him as he saw just how blown out her pupils had become, almost sucking up any light remaining. “I think someone still likes that idea.” It took Cassian a moment to realise what she meant, and just how sloppy he had become. During his trip down memory lane, he had allowed his scent to shift, completely exposing just how turned on she still had the power to make him.

With eyes like the devil, Y/N leaned forward and licked a hot stripe up the side of Cassian’s neck, dropping her dagger in favour of caging him in with her arms. “Remember this?” She asked, her voice dripping with seduction as she moved to brush her lips up his clenched jaw, a hand slowly travelling down his front. Once her lips had reached his ear and she nibbled on the soft flesh of the lobe, her fingers ghosted across the growing bulge in his lap. “And this?” She whispered, her breath on his ear making him shiver as she squeezed lightly, feeling him through his leathers. She bit her lip - he was just as big as she remembered. Cassian grunted at the feeling, teeth clenched in a feeble attempt not to give himself over so easily, despite the fact that they both knew it was useless.

Y/N pulled away far too soon, leaving Cassian feeling cold without her touch. “Are you tempted yet? I’m sure there are better ways we could be using this time, don’t you think?” She began to circle his chair, eyeing him up like a predator would stalk their prey. Oh, how she loved seeing him try to fight it, fight her, fight his inevitable arousal. It was already thick in the air, weighing down on them both, and he was only lying to himself.

“Better ways such as letting me go so I can lead my armies?” Cassian countered. Gods, he was so adorable when he tried to steer the conversation away from what he truly wants. His voice was so tense, almost like he was in pain, trying to reign in his instincts to ravage her… not that there was a whole lot he could do from his position. But any self-restraint was shattered once Y/N had made her way behind him and trailed a delicate finger along the edge of his wing. A strangled groan left his mouth as soon as she made contact, just like she used to do, her nail grazing the fragile skin.

“Don’t be silly, Cassian,” she crooned, breathing hot air onto the trail of fire she just left on his wing. She made her way back around to his front, studying him like she was able to see right through him. With her lips curled up wickedly, she leaned in once again, placing her hands on both of his muscled thighs. “Are you nervous, General?”

“No,” Cassian breathed, throat tight and strained. A lie.

“Do you want me?” A shift of her hands, closer to where he was straining against his pants.

“Yes.”

The word came out too quickly, and Cassian could have cursed his mind for running on auto-pilot and blurting it out, but he knew it was the truth. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was desperate, and if his needs weren’t sated, he would become a wild animal bucking and thrashing to get out of these chains, uncaring if they burned all the way through his wrists.

“Say it again. I need to know you mean it.”

“Yes, Y/N,”

The next few moments were a blur, but all he knew was that he felt the chill air on his cock, hard and leaking, and that Y/N was already on her knees. Fuck. Her eyes glimmered with a sinful satisfaction at how red and throbbing she’d managed to already make him, and she leaned forward to gently lick the bead of pre-cum that sat on his tip. Cassian shivered, wanting nothing more than to wind his fingers in her hair and push her down on his cock, but all he could do was watch. Y/N had always been in control, really, and a part of him buried deep down had always liked it. His waiting cock pulsed at the thought, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, a wide grin spreading across her face before she dipped her head and took him in her mouth.

Cassian’s head tipped back in pleasure, his body completely at her mercy as she bounced her head up and down, taking him like only she could. “Fuck, you were always so good at this,” he groaned, fists clenched to make up for the way he longed to touch her. “Take me so fucking deep.”

Y/N moaned around him as she took him as deep as she possibly could at his words, the vibrations causing him to buck his hips up into her mouth. His cock hit the back of her throat and she gagged, an obscene wet sound filling the room as she pulled her lips off him with a pop. The sight was truly erotic, as a string of saliva connected her mouth to his weeping cock.

“Why’d you stop?” Cassian panted, ignoring the desperate tinge to his voice. Ignoring how he’d become a puppet for her to play with. “I was getting close, come on, just-” He made to reach for her again, before he remembered the lesson he’d learnt earlier. Y/N only watched on, amused.

“You’re getting weak,” she tutted as she rose from the floor. “Have you forgotten, Cassian? You can’t cum unless you can make me cum first. Those were always the rules…” she trailed off as she undid the buttons of her leathers, pulling them down along with her panties in front of him. Putting on a show that he was only allowed to watch, and not participate in. For now.

Cassian’s eyes bulged as she carefully climbed on top of him, making sure to avoid the chains and planting her feet either side of him. She stood, holding onto the back of the chair for balance, and it was then that she lifted one leg, planting her foot next to where she held the chair, exposing her glistening core to him. “Are you gonna be able to make me cum, Cassian? Or has it been too long that you’ve lost your touch? It would be a shame to leave that cock of yours desperate and leaking, but rules are rules.”

“Please,” Cassian felt the shock as Y/N’s eyebrows rose at his plea. She didn’t think he’d ever begged before. He was even surprised at himself, but didn’t have enough time to think about it. No, there was no time, he needed to act, and act now. “Please Y/N come on, I can do it, just let me taste-” His words were cut off as Y/N pressed herself against his mouth, turning his rambling into muffled noises.

Cassian responded immediately, as if a shot of adrenaline had been released into his veins. His tongue flicked out, lapping up her wetness that had been pooling in her panties ever since he woke up. He groaned at the taste, plunging his tongue inside her, trying to taste as much of her sweet nectar as he possibly could. “You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” Y/N gasped, her tone almost patronising, but Cassian didn’t care. Quite the opposite, actually - this side of her always had him craving more and more. She grabbed hold of his hair that had long since fallen out of it’s half-bun, and began rocking her hips against his face. “Look what a little time off has reduced you to. A desperate, begging mess, just for me.”

He was in a state of utter bliss. Cassian held his tongue out obediently, allowing Y/N to ride him as she pleases. She spread her wetness over his mouth and chin, coating the stubble prickling on his skin, and she moaned as her clit rubbed deliciously against his nose. “Stay there for me General, that’s it,”

Cassian groaned as she used him for her own pleasure, content to be her personal fuck toy. But as his knuckles turned white with the force that he was gripping the armrests with, it was clear how much he wanted to use those bound hands. He wanted to slap that ass as she rocked her hips until his handprint was burned into her skin. He wanted to reach up and play with her nipples that he knew were hard and perky for him. And better yet, he wanted to explore even further inside her with his fingers, further than his tongue could reach, and have her release crashing down on him.

A wave of need washed over him and he grunted, moving to suck her clit into his mouth. Her balance wavered for a moment as she yelped, and Cassian couldn’t help but smirk. The one thing he could take control of in this situation was making her cum, so he vowed to do just that. He switched fervently between sucking her clit and licking bold stripes up her centre, determined now to give her an orgasm like it was his entire life’s purpose. The lewd noises coming from where his mouth met her core was enough to make her shiver as Cassian coaxed moan after moan from her.

“Getting close?” Cassian found his voice for a moment and growled against her skin, hell-bent on sending her over that edge. He’d do it if it was the last thing he ever did - which could end up being a possibility, strangely. But the Illyrian had completely forgotten about the poison eating away from him on the inside, that would be a problem he’d deal with later. After he felt her essence dripping down his chin and neck, staining his scent for weeks.

By the way Y/N’s hips stuttered as she attempted to speed up, he knew the answer. She was too proud to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but those pretty moans increasing in pitch sang to him his praise. As she neared her high, Y/N gripped Cassian’s hair and yanked it even harder, sending his eyes rolling back in his head as he helped her chase it, beckoning and pulling her to release. “Fuck, Cass,”

Hearing his name tumble from her lips as the reigns of her power slipped from her grasp had Cassian devouring her like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. His victory shone in his eyes as he watched her mouth gape open and felt her legs tremble, and her screams filled the dark room as she free fell into the best orgasm she’d ever had from someone using only their mouth. She had to admit, he had quite the talent with that tongue of his. Meanwhile, Cassian was in heaven. He didn’t care that he was bound to a chair in chains that would burn his flesh if he moved. He didn’t care that poison was rotting his insides minute by minute. He didn’t care that he was dying, and it was all her fault. All he cared about was the blissed out look on her face as she rode out her high on his face, and the taste that he prayed wouldn’t leave his mouth until his last breath.

A moment passed and Y/N regained her composure, sliding off his body and taking back her position of authority in front of him. Minus the clothes on her lower half, of course. “Not bad,” she quipped, plucking up her underwear from where it had been carelessly discarded.

Cassian chuckled darkly. “Whatever. You can pretend that wasn’t the best fucking orgasm you’ve had in a long time, I don’t care. You still taste just as delicious as I remember.” His eyes burned into her as she dressed herself, once again hiding herself from him, but he felt like he could see right through those leathers. “So?” He said expectantly, nodding down to where his cock was still hard and throbbing with need.

“Oh, Cassian…” The way Y/N shook her head and laughed quietly to herself had Cassian’s insides churning. Whatever was about to come out of her mouth, he had a funny feeling that he wasn’t going to like it. “You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you? You gave me what I wanted and I thank you for that, but I’d much prefer to leave you here, desperate and needy and pathetic… oh, and dying.”

This bitch is a fucking psycho.

Cassian clenched his jaw so hard he thought it may shatter on impact. “And how might I get this antidote?” He seethed, his voice shaking with how hard he was trying to remain calm, as he always tried to do, whilst simultaneously attempting to ignore the humiliation of having his cock exposed and still ridiculously stood to attention.

Y/N sighed dramatically, placing a hand casually on her hip. “You know Cassian, I really don't want to kill you, truth be told. I’d like to keep you alive. But I’m not allowed to give you that antidote until the war is over and Hybern has won.” 

“So you’ll give it to me?”

“Depends. On how long the battle lasts. You might not last as long.”

Dead silence filled the room. Cassian didn’t deem this worthy of an answer. He was done with childish wordplay. He was bound, exposed, powerless and dying, and he intended to find a way out of all of that.

“As for that blowjob,” she continued, breaking the silence. Cassian raised his eyebrows, hating himself for the interest that bubbled up inside him, and also for the way his cock twitched. “Well… I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

With that, Y/N stepped back into the shadows, disappearing without a trace, leaving Cassian helpless in two ways. Searching for a way to free and save himself, and unable to relieve the throbbing ache from between his legs. At least, not until she returns…

UMMMMM PART 2 IDK???

[modanisgf]

005. STUCK ON YOU (WRITTEN)

prev | next | masterlist

haerin sat silently in front of her school, waiting for her best friend. they always walked home together, the two having grown very close over the years. but recently, y/n had been acting different. this school year y/n went into basketball, which haerin was happy for her. y/n loved basketball, she always tried to get haerin into it but she always refused. it's what made haerin think y/n and her were slowly growing apart.

y/n found new friends, people who actually had her interests and haerin felt that she was going to be left in the dust. y/n had helped haerin with a lot of things over the years, and haerin felt differently about her.

sure haerin had other friends like danielle, but she never felt such feelings for them like she did y/n. haerin was confused entirely on the situation, choosing to push those feelings to the side. she didn’t need y/n thinking she was weird, especially if she wanted her to keep being her friend.

but haerin couldn’t help but feel her heart hurt a bit at the sight of y/n leaving school with ningning, the two slowly approaching her.

“hi haerin!” y/n said, smiling widely at her best friend.

ningning simply waved, the girl seemingly stressed over something.

“hi y/n.” haerin said, returning ningning’s wave before getting up from her spot.

the three of them started walking together to their neighborhood, ningning and y/n discussing something about basketball. haerin wished she could contribute but she never really had interest in sports, so she just listened as they ranted on about their stupid coach.

“she stresses me out so bad, i don’t know how karina did it last year. she said she’s glad to be in highschool now and that the coach is actually nice.” ningning says.

“wow really? i can’t wait until we graduate then, i really wanna do basketball but it’s hard to maintain everything else in my life with so many practices.” y/n says, ning nodding in agreement.

“i miss karina too, she made it a lot better. i bet she’d like you.” ningning says.

“she seems cool.” y/n states, averting her gaze to haerin.

haerin’s eyes seemed focused on the ground, the girl was probably lost in thought.

“haerin?” y/n called out to her friend, the girl immediately looking up at her.

“yeah?” haerin says.

“you alright?” y/n asks, a concerned look taking over her face.

haerin had always been quiet but never this quiet, and especially not with y/n.

“yeah, don’t worry.” haerin says, trying to look anywhere but at y/n.

y/n didn’t reply, she knew something was up. she knew haerin too well, she would probably ask later. maybe haerin felt uncomfortable with talking about it in front of ningning.

the rest of the walk was pretty silent, ning and y/n talking about basketball briefly. ningning’s house was the first on the block, so she left before both of them.

ning waved to the two before entering her house, leaving haerin and y/n in a bit of an awkward silence.

y/n was confused about haerin’s behavior, truly being worried for the girl. it felt like they had been set back in time, back to when haerin was y/n’s seat mate the day they met.

y/n couldn’t help but tap haerin on the shoulder, the latter looking up.

“haerin are you really okay? you’re quieter than usual.” y/n asks, concern all over her at this point.

haerin blinked slowly like she always did before speaking up, “do you still want to be my friend?” she asks, eyes meeting her friends.

y/n felt her heart break at the look haerin was giving her, “of course haerin, you’re my best friend.”

“you shouldn’t have to ever worry about whether or not i want to be your friend, i’ll always be even through everything that happens in our future.” yn says, not missing haerin’s small smile.

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too haerin.”

—

haerin was waiting at the bus stop, having to take the bus today due to the rain. she never liked the rain, the loud noises and gloomy weather always made her feel sad.

danielle was by her side today, as you were nowhere to be seen.

"haerin, is y/n coming on the bus with us today?" danielle asks.

"i'm not sure, she hasn't texted me anything. maybe her mom picked her up." haerin shrugs.

danielle made a shocked face, confusing haerin until she turned around. there you were walking with woonhak and jaehyun, people who you swore you hated just weeks ago.

"when did they become friends?!" danielle whisper yelled to haerin, the girl didn't respond being too in shock.

the two boys were joking around, making you laugh too as the three of you made your way to the bus stop.

"hi rin, hi danielle!" you say, smiling at both of them.

"sorry i got held up, woonhak and jaehyun wanted to show me some shooting tips." you say, the two nervously smiling at haerin and danielle.

haerin chose to stay silent, waving at you before starting a conversation with danielle. you were confused, but continued talking to woonhak and jaehyun.

"yo, you didn't tell us you were friends with danielle!" woonhak whispers.

"why does it matter?" you question.

"in short woonhak's stupid, he somehow has beef with everyone." jaehyun says, making you realize.

"oh yeah, i used to hate him." you say, not noticing your words.

"wait hello?! what did i do?” woonhak exclaims, making you and jaehyun laugh.

“don’t worry about it, it’s in the past anyways.” you say, the words being loud enough for haerin to hear.

‘it’s in the past anyways.’

haerin had to fight back tears in that moment, she knew you two were growing apart.

TAGS 🏷️ (OPEN) — @jayjj7 @saysirhc @sixflame438 @ajjilhan @amourjins @isither @sserajeans @greenniee @isabbellle @gayforalll @leeohknows @airice @yeetaberry127 @l0l44444 @inosfavgf @emphobics @edamboon @s3mz @newhairnewjeans @xen248 @nooneissheree @wintersgff @haechansbbg @gtfoiydlyj @masuowo @he------len @haerinsloverr

a/n— dear tumblr writers how to not get burnt out!! 💔💔

[butmakeitgayblog]

Love how cautious and careful she is when taking about the 100. girl was so overwhelmed and surprised be the response to Lexa.

She really was, and she's said so a million times, and that's why I never really got on board with a lot of the backlash she personally got in those initial months following 307.

Like, she was a 20-something year old kid (which, believe me, as much as we tout 18+ being An Adult™ the reality is that 25 and under and you're still mentally very much a kid, and you don't realize that fact until you're older. Every year of aging in your 20s is actually slowly realizing just how little how you truly know about yourself and the world, and that feeling doesn't really entirely go away even into your 30s, but I digress.) She was a 20-something, no name actress who went from obscurity and, like she said, taking pm any job she could get just to pay the bills, to being this iconic character with a cult following that made her the face of an entire movement.

A movement... for a community... that she's not even a part of...

That's a lot.

And I've just always felt that specific sentiment at the time by some that she should've known better about how to handle it all and known what to say and oh she should've been a bigger voice for the cause and more active... I just thought and still do think that it all was an incredibly unfair weight to put on someone's shoulders who never asked for it to begin with.

She just really liked the character Lexa.

Girl, same.

But even through all that, she's still always been supportive. She's always been poised and thoughtful and understanding in her comments on things, and, imo most importantly, open to listening to what fans and queer voices have to say. She's not performative in how she treats her queer fans, nor is she pandering. She's honest about her surprise and even candid about how overwhelmed, out of her depth, and uncomfortable some of it made her feel. But where she could easily use her fans as a fast cash cow by manipulating their feelings over Lexa, she doesn't do any of that. Instead she speaks of Lexa with respect, and gives fans credit for their intelligence in why they were attracted and attached to the character to begin with, and from everything I've seen from random people on the street to meet&greets at conventions, she treats fan's love and adoration of the role with kindness.

While she's made it clear that creatively she has long since moved on - as she should, like any artist growing throughout their career - I think she makes it pretty clear that she's well aware that Lexa is something that'll always be synonymous with her career highs, and for all the negatives that did come from that situation, Lexa and Lexa fans are still something that deserves to be spoken about with respect. At least that's the way she presents her feelings publicly, and for that

[getsalt1396]

I'm Done. Helluva Boss has officially lost me.

I finally tried to watch Apology Tour this evening. I made it to 9m58s and I just could NOT go any further in the episode. I very honestly had to close the browser because I was cringing so hard. So I have no idea what happened past Verosika cutting the Blitz cake, other than what I've seen online from y'all.

And that's saying something, considering I managed to make it through the painful, cringe-worthy Stolas/Blitz confrontation at the end of "Full Moon".

Please feel free to let me know if any future episodes are truly worth watching, but I just keep getting the absolute "Ick" from Viv and Co. regarding most of the HB/HH content in 2024.

It's odd and weirdly humbling to be in a position where I used to defend these shows and the writers (to an extent), but I just can't anymore. I'm done. The narrative in HH and especially HB is so painful for me to watch, now. You may disagree, which is absolutely, positively fine!

Power to you if you enjoy it, but I don't, anymore.

My genuine facial expression for the entire first ten minutes of "Apology Tour" that I could manage to stomach was LITERALLY this:

I'm done.

I still enjoy HB's first few S1 episodes before HB bought in so heavily into becoming the "Stolitz" show (I'm fully aware Stolas was featured from the start, but he was very villain-coded in the beginning, and I loved it, and its past potential storyline implications).

And I will admit that I find the original Fizz/Oz content from "Ozzie's" and pieces of S2 E6&7 to be enjoyable. I'm still an absolute sucker for Fizzarolli - sue me.

But let me be clear, Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel were never - in my eyes - well-done, artistic, or particularly poignant. They were fun, but that was the end of it. They weren't/aren't well-written.

They're not "important", which is fine. Content doesn't have to be important, impactful, or "well done" in order for people to enjoy it.

They were fun, and fun only. But now, they are trying to be "good", and they (HB, esp.) are not that. Because, frankly, Viv truly isn't capable of writing that way. Which - again - is fine!! Not everything has to be cinematically excellent and objectively "good" in order to be enjoyable to the audience.

We can enjoy content without it having to be important.

But please stop trying to make your fun IMP plotline into a melodrama that you, yourself, are not mature enough to write WELL, Vivienne. Stop playing HB as suddenly "important" with storylines that are complex and inward-focused when you have failed to set them up as such from the start.

Ret-conning is not good writing, and you're relying on it far too much. Particularly with your dear, sweet Stolas.

And frankly, I'm tired.

We should have a "Viv Sucks" party every Halloween, instead.

[memorymessage]

Now doing DLC again and being more attentive, while also properly finishing up NPC questlines, and I'm just getting more disappointed with Miquella's story and the way it was handled in DLC.

With all the verbiage going on in the base game of how powerful Miquella's allure was, and how he had the ability to command loyalty through the guise of kindness, you would think it would be like dealing with brainwashing, to some degree. Miquella is charming people into thinking he is more altruistic than he actually is.

I'm really let down that it just ended up being "actually he's just kinda shady, I guess. You should kill him", with no real substance.

The St. Trina dialogue was super cheesy and blatantly lacking reason. Begging us to kill Miquella, and I'm just sitting here thinking "why?"

All the legacy Miquella had built up around himself, including cut content, like St. Trina charitably helping the merchant nomads with their trauma and insomnia. Growing the Haligtree with his blood, welcoming every living being to his to his town without prejudice, and spreading an overall message of peace.

Throughout all this, you're telling me it chalked up to "don't let him be a god :( It would be bad for him, I guess! Also...he's doing weird things with his step bro! And some other shady stuff, I guess!"

I was expecting something along the lines of what we see with Marika, and her fallacies in the Golden Order. Miquella is truly extremely wise, he does command loyalty, and he does desire for peace. But you cannot obtain true peace by placing people under a brainwash of loyalty. And when that illusion is shattered, that alone is what causes people to question him.

But in the DLC, some people are following Miquella for their own purposes, and for the ones that are trying to be loyal to him, it doesn't even take all that much to make them stop following him. That doesn't lend anything to the narrative that Miquella inspired loyalty.

A realization that Miquella is using mind control would have been a far more interesting plot than whatever was haphazardly put together in the DLC. This DLC felt like a reduction of Miquella's character, not an exploration of it. Everything about Miquella that was alluded to in the base game was just... abandoned in place of this new characterization.

All of this, on top of the weird Radahn storyline that came out of nowhere (which I already ranted about), and also knowing that one of the most interesting plots in the game—Godwyn—will never be addressed... it all just leaves me disappointed.

This is genuinely the first time a FromSoft game or DLC has made me want to say to Miyazaki "actually, I think you're wrong here." The DLC in terms of level area, boss, and enemy designs? Immaculate. But with all the hype around Miquella, you would think the writing would have also had a shine as well. I just don't know if it did...

[heathersdesk]

One of my favorite follows on TikTok is Reverend Oliver, a trans pastor in West Virginia whose whole thing is trying to teach leftist people how to shed their worst impulses and inclinations to be better members of their communities. He is a firm advocate for genuine connection, leftist cooperation and community building with those on the right, and the kind of activism that is truly transformative and leaves no one behind.

He made a post, in an ongoing conversation about ways for leftists to identify opportunities to connect with their larger communities, that listed some of the fronts where leftists need to consider society's unmet needs. He included child care and elder care on that list. He also included addiction recovery resources.

Seeing an opportunity for the kind of interfaith connection he's always talking about, I pointed out that the LDS Church has free addiction recovery programs that anyone in the public is invited to attend, regardless of religious affiliation. And unlike other resources like the bishop's storehouse, no interaction with ecclesiastical leadership is necessary or expected. You can just show up, get support, and leave without any expectation of obligation, financial or otherwise, to our church. And honestly, a healthy dose of reality for the program from voices outside of our own community might temper some of the attitudes in our own community about pornography and compulsive masturbation being equivalent to an addiction.

So tell me why a random ex-Mormon took it upon themselves to begin an argument with me in Rev. Oliver's comments about the LDS Church leadership and past animosity towards queer people, that it isn't a safe space for them, that all queer people are forced into conversion therapy (which is false), and people show up in ARP with things that aren't even addictions.

Even after I told that person I'm queer affirming, that I believe these are things the Church can and does need to change, that I have actively been working on those improvements through my church membership since Prop 8, they just kept going. I became the dumpster for their unresolved anger towards the institution, even though I'm a total stranger and have nothing to do with anything they were complaining about. I have never put any queer people into conversion therapy and never would. I'm not Dallin H. Oaks and never tortured queer people at BYU. I think the Church has many sins it needs to answer for in relation to its treatment of queer people. At no point did I disagree or argue against anything that was true. For all intents and purposes, this person and I probably agree about a lot of things.

So why were they still attacking me? I'm actively trying to improve what upsets them without invalidating any of their feelings, and they're still upset with me. Why? What more do they want from me?

I find myself in this position with ex-Mormons all the time. With a tenure on Mormon Twitter that went from 2009-2023, I've seen every form and progression of ex-Mormon sentiment that could ever possibly exist. Especially because I left the Church for a time and did so with heartbreaks of my own. They don't know this when they approach me because they have no idea who I am, and I don't expect them to. But the irony is never lost on me that we could honestly be besties if they would shut and stop making assumptions about me long enough to hear what I'm saying.

And I mean that with my whole chest, and with all the self-recrimination that comes with it: ex-Mormons engage people in fights when they have no intentions of listening, achieving understanding, or engaging in constructive resolution with anyone in relation to the Church. They use people for emotional catharsis, and that's all they want from these interactions. I'm just supposed to sit there and take it. That's what they want. That's what they expect. And when I refuse to engage in the process as a receptacle for their disregulated emotions and the shame they want to make me feel, they get mad at me for not giving them what they wanted from me.

They don't see me as a person. They don't respect me or the work I do. They don't actually want to see the Church grow or improve beyond the ways it hurt them in the past because it means the Church and its people were always capable of doing that, just not for them. And they aren't prepared to feel or confront any of that, emotionally or spiritually. All they've ever wanted is a real apology and real change, but when it happens—when someone from the Church genuinely apologizes to them and tells them they deserved better, as I always do—it's not emotionally satisfying at all. The skies don't part, angels don't sing, and they don't feel any better.

It's like that scene from Malcolm in the Middle where Lois finally apologizes to Francis for being abusive to him when he's not expecting it, he freaks out because he had built up what that apology would look like and what it would accomplish in his mind, and he gets mad at Lois for ruining the fantasy in his mind. She doesn't know what to do, so she asks him if $20 would help. He takes the money in a state of confusion, but clearly still doesn't feel any better because it also doesn't help.

So I'm going to say the same thing here that I did there, for when this inevitably happens here: I'm not going to apologize for trying to make the Church a better, safer place for everyone. I'm not going to apologize for my association with the institutional Church, despite its failures and imperfections. I have made peace with my place here, the good I do, the impact I have, and the changes I am making. This is my church too, and despite what people think, there's room for me here. And as long as I'm here, the Church is a better and safer place for marginalized people because I've committed to making it that way. I don't expect anyone to stay when it's safest and healthiest for them to go, but I'm not going to join them. I already tried that and it was a waste of time for me.

If someone decides to place the validation of their choice to leave the Church on my refusal to go with them, that's not my problem. I don't owe anyone that. And their choice to do that doesn't entitle them to use me as an emotional jizz tissue for their anger at (and grief for) the institutional Church and other people in it I've never even met. Put it in a journal or take it to a therapist you pay for. Don't hand it to me, then get offended when I hand it back to you. It's not mine. If you don't want the nasty end results of your emotional outburst, what makes you think I do?

All of this to say to ex-Mormon folks who do this: have some self-reflection. Do you do this to people? Is it healthy? Does it accomplish any of your goals? Is it helping you to become the person you envisioned you would be when you left the Church? Have you fully formed in your mind who that person is? Have you fully and appropriately grieved for everyone and everything you lost? If not, what impact is that choice having on the rest of your life? And should you be doing something about it instead of arguing with me?

Again, don't tell me. Put it in a journal. Tell a therapist. Or, even better, tell the person who actually hurt you. Because telling me isn't going to make you feel better. And you may not realize this yet, but it's tremendously difficult to be me, too. I'm the one telling your parents, siblings, grandparents, friends, neighbors, classmates, colleagues, co-workers, and other people in your life at Church that they need to treat you better—how to do it and what it looks like. You need me. What I do is important. It's also exhausting. And if you use up all of my energy in an argument with you, how am I going to do it? Do you think about that? Do you think about what it costs me to be the person you've already decided it's too exhausting for you to be?

I say this with all the love and encouragement I have: either help me or get out of my way. But don't make my job harder. Why would you do that? It doesn't serve you, me, or anyone else. It just makes you look bitter, makes me less effective at creating the changes you want, and all Mormons (former and current) look like we don't have our shit together. Because this isn't new. Every religious tradition on this planet has had to struggle and figure out how to create space for marginalized people. Every branch of Christianity has had to figure out their relationship to their own queer people, to stop actively hurting them and to embrace them instead. You're a part of this transition, even once you leave, by whether or not you perpetuate this animosity with people who stay. We all have to put down our weapons. The fighting will continue as long as anyone anywhere is still throwing punches.

If you're an ex-Mormon, be the best one there is. Be unbothered and totally disengaged from the Church and its problems. Create the life of your dreams with nothing from the past in it, if that's what you need. When the people in your life direct coercion and manipulation at you in relation to your spirituality and church disaffiliation, return to sender. Be so busy being your own best self, you don't have time for any of this.

That's what you deserve. That's what I want for you. That's what many in the Church who stay want for you, because we're not all selfish pricks who get our jollies from forced homogeneity and making people suffer. That's not even the majority of us. It's the people you're actually mad at. Stop treating us like we're all guilty by association. Have the courage to put the dog turd of your displeasure on their porch where it belongs, not mine.

[gleefullypolin]

My top 10 ships

I haven't done this in forever, and I was bored and didn't feel like working so.....felt like an appropriate thing to do instead.

My top 10 ships!

#1 Polin - Bridgerton

Did you really anticipate anyone else being at my top spot? Friends to lovers....Swoon! They have my heart, soul, and life. I literally love a girl who knows what she wants and a man who loves the fuck out of her like no other so this is like porn and comfort. Give me everything tonight and more!

#2 Captain Swan - OUAT

If you aren't going to give me friends to lovers, I'll move over to Enemies and find my kind because holy hot out of hell, there is nothing better than Captain Hook and his smolder winning over Emma Swan. Fuck that man can burn! Years after that show ended and I can still sit in them and ruminate and catch myself on fire.

#3 Clois - Smallville

There have been a lot of different Lois and Clark's out there, but none have been Erica Durance and Tom Welling. I've never been so happy and angry with a show in all my life. I used to wish so much against Lana Lang that I am embarrassed my own behavior. But I truly loved the banter and way these two brought these characters to live. It was marvelous.

#4 Reylo - Star Wars

Being a Reylo shipper was like being sentenced to death and hell all at the same time for many years. We were bullied, tortured, shat on, and then given everything we wanted in 30 seconds only for them to fucking KILL HIM after a sacrifice. I have never both smiled, cried, and then curled into a ball in a theater so quickly that I wanted to die before. Even my family ridiculed me. It was torture but I still live there. I still ship it and you cannot make me stop!!

#5 Fitzsimmons - Agents of Shield

The brilliant science couple put through so much that even they thought they were cursed. Pushed to find each other across time and space, kidnapped into a matrix, forced to fight one another, half the couple killed, duplicate versions of themselves, but champions of the hug, star crossed and so full of love. Friends to lovers, he fell first, she fell harder and GOD I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR!

#6 Starpollo - Battlestar Galactica

A couple who knew how to tear out my heart, throw it to the ground, and then trample it with their feet to ashes. While Lee and Kara were not destined to end up together, they damn sure made it hard not to want them to find a way. They truly loved each other more than anyone they were with in the show, but guilt always found a way to fuck that up for them. God it hurt to love you two.

#7 Romanogers - Marvel Universe

Let's talk crack ships because oh how they break your heart. But it is glorious. This one is mine. I will forever love Nat and Steve and I will live in the space and time that they were on the road together living their lives without a banner. Because you can't tell me what they got up to! I refuse to believe you! But let's not talk about how it all ended because my heart still hurts and I don't like to talk about it!

#8 Finchel - Glee

Since I'm already ripping my heart out, let's go all the way with it. Finchel has always been that ship that tears my heart to shreds. I was all in from the characters to the actors and I'll never honestly get over it. I'll probably always bleed Finn and Rachel, Cory and Lea. And I'll never be able to talk about it to normal people. It was something I lived, breathed, and honestly part of me died with. So I think that's enough of that.

#9 Caryl - The Walking Dead

You can call this whatever it is, some say crack ship, I say...otherwise. It's my ship of ships for TWD. It's my coming home ship. Because that's what they are to each other. They are love. No one tell me otherwise, I live there, I love there. So do they. Deal with it.

#10 Roschel - Friends

Look, say what you want, but I stayed home on Thursday nights just to watch whether they would or wouldn't. Nothing grabbed me like these two. They were lobsters, they were on a break, I didn't give a fuck what it was, only that they had me in a chokehold and that's what I realized what shipping was. Because dammit, I wanted whatever feeling it was. And thus the 9 people above because the passion I sought. So bless it, they needed to be here.

And there you have it, my top 10 ships! Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to add your own :)

[livwritesstuff]

If you need incentive to write the 04 scene of Steve’s mom meeting Eddie, Moe, and Robbie, this is it. The image of Steve stepping in front of them??????? Astounding and I am all but begging you to share what was said — if, of course, you feel the inspiration and need that extra push to write it :)

truly anything for you

tbh this is basically an extension of the last part of this

“–Also, my mom is here.”

“What?” Eddie yelps, which, yeah, fair enough, all things considered. Steve’s been estranged from his parents for over a decade now, so it’s only natural for Eddie to be completely shocked finding out that his mom is here, in their home. 

“Well…y’know, I invited them,” Steve replies as he shifts the way he’s holding their eight-month-old daughter Robbie. 

It’s true – he had invited his parents to the party that he and Eddie are throwing today to celebrate…they’re celebrating a lot of shit, actually, because they’d had a pretty wild few months, but he’s invited them to all the important things over the years.

Before Eddie can respond, Moe wanders over and tugs on the hem of Eddie’s shirt as she says, “Daddy, look at ‘dis, Auntie Robin put a flower in my hair.”

“I mean yeah, duh, Steve,” Eddie finally says as he absently picks up Moe (being mindful of the daisy tucked behind her ear, of course), “I mean, you always…Steve, she’s here?”

“Yeah, she-uh, I dunno. She showed up. We – I sorta yelled at her, I think…”

Steve trails off as his eye catches on a familiar figure hovering by the front door – his mom, he knows, even with her back to him. She must feel his eyes on her, because she turns in their direction, and by then Eddie had realized that something was pulling Steve’s attention so he’s turning too, and then Steve’s mom and Eddie are standing face to face, and alarm bells are going off inside Steve’s head that he can’t really explain, but before he can dwell on it, he finds himself slipping into an old tendency to just blindly act, to protect the people he loves before all else. 

Steve takes a step forward.

Where before he’d been standing in line with Eddie, Steve steps forward, meets his mother with a steady gaze as he puts himself between her and his family.

His mother isn’t blind to this. Steve can see on her face the way she recognizes that step forward for what it was, because he’s got one foot planted firmly between Eddie’s own, and his shoulder is blocking Moe from view completely, and he’s angling himself in a way directs Robbie away too even if doing so hadn’t been a conscious decision, because it all makes crystal clear the kind of threat that Steve perceives his mom to be.

She blinks at him, lips slightly parted, and for a moment Steve finds himself feeling a little bad for her – but only for a moment, because she made her choices just like Steve’s father did, and now they all have to live with them.

Steve is lives with those choices every day by being the parent he had needed as a child, and right now that means standing between the parents he did have and the family he has now

“Steve, I–” his mom starts, “I need to be going, but…I’d like to be introduced to your…if you’ll let me.”

She’s looking at Robbie (trying to, anyway), and it makes Steve wonder if she’d even be here today if he hadn’t sent his mother a card back in the spring of ‘02 announcing the adoption of Moe, if he hadn’t spent the years since then sending her updates about his kids. She wonders if she would have shown up at all if it was just him and Eddie.

Steve loves his kids with a kind of love he had never experienced before, but the same is true for Eddie. Sure, it’s a different kind of love, but no less big and no less important. There’s no way in hell Steve will be allowing his mother to pick and choose which parts of his life she gets to participate in. If she wants to know the girls, she goes through Eddie first. Non-negotiable.

Before Steve can say as much, Eddie adjusts his hold on Moe (still keeping her behind Steve, he notices) to free up a hand and hold it outstretched.

“Ed,” he says, and he follows it with, “Steve’s husband,” and Steve can hear the shit-eating grin on Eddie’s face without even needing to look, and he knows that he’s smiling too because he always does when Eddie calls himself Steve’s husband. Then he adds, “Can’t believe we’ve gone this long without an introduction.”

Steve’s mother introduces herself and shakes his hand (though she doesn’t seem to have anything to say to his second comment, Steve notes).

Satisfied (because, frankly, Steve couldn’t really have asked for anything more, all things considered), he finally shifts to the side to introduce his daughters.

“This is Moe,” he says, “Wanna say hi, Moe?”

But Moe has suddenly gone uncharacteristically shy (or maybe she senses the tension and is wisely choosing the side that’s kept her snuggled and fed her entire life – she’s smart like that), tucking her face away in the safety of Eddie’s shoulder. 

Steve watches as Eddie murmurs something in her ear, watches Moe nod even as her little arms twine a little tighter around his neck.

She raises her head and gives a cautious, “Hi,” (with maybe a bit more side-eye than necessary, but…whatever. Moe is who she is).

“Hello,” his mom replies, with a kind of smile on her face that Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen before (a real smile, maybe, but he won’t dwell on that). She gives Robbie a little wave, “And who’s this?”

“This is Robbie,” Steve says, running a hand over her curls, “Can you say hi, Beans?”

Robbie only blinks her big blue eyes, one of her little hands clenched around a bit of Steve’s hair at the nape of his neck.

“How ‘bout a wave?” he suggests, mimicking a wave for his youngest daughter, who parrots the motion in his mom’s direction.

“How old is she, again?” she asks as Steve presses a kiss onto Robbie’s chubby cheek. He knows he already told his mother this but, in fairness, it certainly wasn’t the most memorable part of their contentious conversation not too long earlier.

“Eight months last week,” Eddie answers proudly. He looks at Moe again, “And how old are you, bug? Are you…” he pauses, pretending to think. He looks at Steve, “I think she’s only two, right?”

“Oh, definitely,” Steve nods, pretending to be serious, “Definitely two more than anything else.”

“No-o, I’m more three!” she argues, her little brow furrowing (Steve knew it would – with Moe’s third birthday only a few weeks away, they’ve had many a conversation about how Moe thinks she deserves three-year-old privileges because she’s “more three than two”).

“That’s right, you turn three soon,” Eddie nods, “And we’re gonna throw a…what kind of party?”

“A butterfly party,” Moe finishes.

Steve looks back at his mom.

“You’re welcome to come, you know,” he says, and beside him, Eddie shifts a bit closer, his shoe nudging up against Steve’s, “Y’know, if you’re around. I can send you the info.”

He already sent it. He knows he already sent it, but if this is his mom’s way of extending the first olive branch, of taking the first steps in restoring the relationship with her son, he’ll send it again.

“Sure,” she replies, running a manicured hand through her hair, “We’ll…well, you know your father and his schedule – I’d thought he would have considered retiring by now but…” she pauses, then shakes her head, “Yes, I’d like the details.”

Steve nods, makes a mental note to send his mom the information (because, despite his defensiveness, he really does want her to be a part of his life, his kids’ and husband’s lives too).

She takes her leave only a minute or two later, and when she does, Eddie turns to face him.

“Holy shit, Steve,” he says, wide-eyed.

“I know,” he replies, slowly shaking his head.

“Dude, that was crazy, and we’re definitely gonna have to debrief whatever the hell you guys talked about earlier, but can I just say you got so fuckin’ lucky that Robin didn’t realize she was here.”

Before Steve can respond, he hears an ominous voice behind him say, “Robin didn’t realize who was here?"

[romancearc]

You know what. While some of Colin's reaction was a bit too mean (for a romance focused show), I get it. He thinks whistledown HATESSS him.

Year 1 the scribe ruins his engagement while severely embarrassing him and his family. year 2 he stays under the radar by "focusing on himself" but all of his disdain comes back when he visits Marina again. At this point nobody thinks he still fancies Marina, but his anger comes from LW robbing any chances of a proper closure from him. And people's disinterest and apathy towards his caring and love and excitement exasperates his insecurities further. Also, Pen going no contact is the nail in the coffin for sure, especially because he doesn't know what caused her to ghost him.

So he puts on a mask, a fake personality. He decides to be a rake. He hates it, but he is IT. And he gets validation! Anthony cheers him for it. The girls are swooning(I wouldn't, it looks so fake, and I know that is the point but still)! He puts up these walls where he can express himself only within certain lines. This is very unlike himself. But this way, he gets to avoid the scrutiny of a petty gossip column.

He thinks the same strategy will work with getting his bestie back. It fails (goodnight mr bridgerton) and then somewhat works (him promising Pen to teach his tricks). And then comes another public call out.

At this point he is beyond done with giving LW any grace. He is actively hoping for her downfall. He hates that LW has only criticisms for him. If he's sweet he's naive, if he's suave he's a fake. He calls LW beastly for calling Pen unmarriagable. He still remembers how LW nearly ruined El and changed her permanently*. He is excited to see her identity be unfolded, so that he can witness her downfall in real life.

So when he finds out that PENELOPE. out of all people he could've thought is LW, he gets irrationally mad. This is the woman he loves, the woman he plans to worship for the rest of his life. And she, through his lens, never hesitates to publicly blast his character to hundreds in the ton.

His entrapment comment was mostly a pathetic way of getting back at her(still distasteful imo). I did not for a second think he wants to end the marriage. but he thinks LW thinks very lowly of him, and he has come to hate her for it. We get confirmation on this later but he is desperately separating his lover away from LW in his mind. Begging her really, to stop writing. Because if Pen really is LW, then she doesn't respect him at all. I wish we could've had more scenes where they communicated and cleared the air. This is what the season truly lacked.

He doesn't like that THE Lady Whistledown, famously known for tearing people down(including himself) read his writing. He cannot take Pen's compliments about his work at face value anymore because he remembers how cruel she has been to him.

He is able to marry Pen because he loves Pen and knows she loves him back, but ruins their wedding night when Pen gives him an ultimatum. That she will not sacrifice a part of herself for him. Ideally, this would at least make him accept that he cannot separate her two lives. But that leaves him with only one choice, to distance himself from her, at least till he figures himself out. Petty as fuck, but ok. Man needs time to process his feelings. Thank God it only took less than two weeks😭😭.

Now he refuses to spend time with her(this hurt the most). His hero Colin shenanigans aside, he keeps distance and puts up boundaries, because he still cannot accept Pen fully. Penelope has also accepted that fate for herself. She willingly travels in separate carriages and doesn't even urge him to share their bed.

However when he happens upon the letters, things finally start changing for the better. Y'all I was begging multiple Gods that he reads their letters and when he did I almost screamed. Colin finally understands that his heart had accepted Pen a long time back, LW and all. He loves her writing. He loves her hold over language. He loves how she can truly see someone without ever prodding too much. He loves her barbs. These are all qualities of LW as well.

When he realizes that he likes everything about Pen that makes her LW, he is able to trust her again. That the Marina expose was done because she felt powerless. That she loves him, but she saw through his fake rakish behaviour and couldn't stand his new self. Isn't that validating? He has been trying so hard to be someone he is not only for him to see that the woman he loves doesn't want him to change one bit for her. That she wants him as is?

Oh and also that beautiful conversation after Fran's wedding was so healing. For my grieving polin hungover heart I am trusting that they've already reconciled here. Sure, still not sharing rooms but finally seeing eye to eye. She doesn't require valiant savior acts to love him, she already in deep for him. She loves Colin. Something that he was insecure about this whole season.

I love Polin. The melodrama this season was a bit too much for my liking because I watch bridgerton for the romance and not the nuance but this conflict has made me respect Colin a lot more than I did in s2. I know he has been a hit or miss character for the audience and that is fine honestly. I hope to see more of them in the later seasons. I see how Saphne has been completely discarded and I'm scared for Polin's fate now. Penelope makes this show dude, I hope they aren't forgotten so fast.

TANGENT but i felt like adding this here: I have seen people call Pen selfish for not quitting her column which makes me roll my eyes because she was constantly compromising her comfort to accommodate everyone else. The final act isn't only her getting the cake and eating it too, she actively works for it. When Colin says the LW secret will always stand between them she LISTENS to him. Her plan isn't just catered towards her avoiding Cressida's wrath and saving her dream but it is also her trying to save her relationship. 'ok darling, you're saying my anonymous identity is ruining our relationship? fine. let's reveal myself.' She even offers a divorce not because she is choosing her job over him, but because she loves him enough to not make him feel trapped. I love her. Colin you better be a wife guy now. UGH!!!

[kaijuparfait]

I saw ur tags about indulging in the body horror aspect of the Symbiote/Host dynamic and im just here to say: do it >:3

YES.

GOD. ok so. I've always enjoyed the concept of body horror, not all the way, but it looked cool in art! But! Recently Symbrock (and Venom as a whole) has turned that up to 100- both in a "Wow! Cool alien creature biting people's heads off! >:D" way, but also in a "The goo is in his organs, his tissue, his cells... how romantic!" way.

And, if you'll excuse me, I'll only be talking about my (limited) knowledge/headcanons with Symbrock because I haven't read all the comics yet so this is all with Eddie and the Venom Symbiote in mind-

Firstly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone mention how the Symbiote can enter/exit it's Host's body through their skin, without damaging the Host. There's no wounds, just the easy slide in between layers of cells, Venom can be as solid as they want but can also come together so seamlessly, its like watching someone fold a deck of cards.

Even on a psychological standpoint, the idea of actually being "Venom". Singular. Not "We" are Venom. But the idea of two beings, from different sides of the universe, coming together perfectly as one being, one mind, one consciousness. A bit of an OC ramble, I have this OC that goes into this idea of acting as one being and I'll talk about them later but WOAH is it fun. The sheer intimacy of it.. not losing your own self, but simply combing it with another to create something- someone new.

Ok onto the actual body horror-

I am not normal about the Symbiote literally being in Eddie's blood. Blood is everywhere in the body, anywhere you poke, blood will come out- and in that, the Symbiote, ready to heal the wound.

Speaking of healing wounds, and also this post because I keep rereading it, it makes me ill, the Venom Symbiote truly sees it's Host as it's home. and that does something to me. The way it keeps the body healthy, like how you would clean your house, no longer having to worry about illnesses or infections; how it heals any injuries, like fixing a broken wall, repainting it, like there was no damage in the first place.

Knowing it's home so well, able to know what's wrong and how to make it right. Complete and utter devotion to it's beloved home, the one that keeps it safe, willingly, lovingly let's it- wants it inside to keep it safe. To know that something that could tear apart planets if it so wanted to, something that bares it's rows of teeth as a natural expression, something that has destroyed countless lives- to know something like that gently rests in the space between your organs because it wants to. And how much you want it to too.

And this goes both ways too! When they're Venom and get hurt, they way the Symbiote peels away from the body is.. its amazing that the Symbiote can be torn away from it's Host. When Eddie gets hurt, the Symbiote comes out, from inside- When Venom gets hurt, instead of blood or organs, it's Eddie at the center, but he acts as the same anyways. Eddie is the Symbiote's life, he is it's heart, carefully tucked away and protected.

Even though Eddie doesn't particularly enjoy eating people's brains, he comes up with a compromise for the 2 of them anyways, he buys tons of chocolate for it to eat too, and that adds up for a guy that is living in a one room flat. and AND AND I will never get over how, in LTBC, Venom leaves all the red m&m's, because the red dye is said to be harmful to humans in large amounts, so even though it's one of the few things it needs to live, it refuses it to keep Eddie- it's Host- it's home safe.

and, I mean, Venom totally could eat Eddie if it so wanted to, in the first movie, Eddie's literally going through.. several organ failures- but Venom puts him back together, back better! and i am suddenly ill-

excuse my weird ideas but hhhhhh Eddie being torn apart and put back together..... yeah. how much trust is needed for that? how much love is shown from letting it consume his flesh and bones, from it eating the thing it loves the most, from it knowing every ridge and curve of every organ and cell to put everything back where it was?

how much love is needed to destroy something, to be destroyed, and come back together?

also Trust Exercise is a dang good fic, i need more of this. please. or i'll start making it myself (i'll do it anyways)

This, too, can go both ways, I am a big fan of swapping how Eddie and Venom and portrayed, both in canon and in fanon, just for the fun of it- and I'm just saying... let Eddie tear apart the Symbiote! maybe Eddie wants to rip it apart with his teeth and bare hands! Let them fight and rip each other apart, but with love <3 (oh fight/sparring scenes between friends/lovers, how i love you so)

you can't really see it well, and i'll make a better show of it later, but my design for (movie) Eddie has sharp teeth and that isn't for no reason. I.... ADORE the idea that, after being Venom for so long, Eddie starts adapting parts of them into his "normal" body- sharper teeth, clouded eyes, maybe even some of his skin is pitch black too, just because it makes him feel like Venom in his everyday life, even a little bit.

ough i need to lay down after that but- THANK YOU so much for asking me this, this was such a treat to let out, it's like a weight has been lifted off me lmao

i'll probably have more on this topic later on, but i'll probably use those ideas for art/writing, i love thinking about them :3

EDIT: ALSO ALSO ALSO the way the Venom Symbiote literally goes against it's very nature to love Eddie, it goes against what every other Symbiote does, it betrays it's entire race and planet- JUST TO BE VENOM WITH EDDIE <3

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

The solos from Ausländer, Deutschland and Zeit are from Paul. If I remember the info is from the studio!

Well, then he did a great job 🥰

And isn't it wonderful that for Deutschland (which was Richard's initial idea, as Flake mentions in his text in the Deutschland photobook "I'm thinking if the day we sat around at Richard's and heard the theme for the first time") it is Paul who writes that lovely part of it that Richard plays so well, talk about symbiotic guitarists..

But unless you have a link and post it non-anon, it still is an 'unconfirmed fact' i'm afraid, sorry anon.

-

But talking about Deutschland, i'm taking a bit of Flake's text in the official Deutschland photobook. I'm not going to copy the whole text, but i'll take a few paragraphs that seem on topic:

"When people want me to say something about Deutschland I usually talk about the months, actually years, we spent sitting down as a band having heated discussions. Every one of us expressed his opinion in detail. All of us talked about our experiences and feelings with respect to Deutschland. Some of us even told stories about themselves that I had never heard before. Sometimes all it takes is a theme like that to set us off and we end up getting to know one another even more closely. When we now publish a song as Rammstein, all of us have to be in agreement that this is what the text is saying because every single band member embodies this song. People can only believe in us and trust us if we stand by our songs, through and through. It was during these discussions that the six of us discovered, once again, how varied our views were of the world and of Deutschland. We talked and talked. Every word in the text was turned over and examined again and again, until there were almost no words left that truly all of us could agree upon. At the end almost all we had left were associations and allusions. We aren't history teachers and we don't want to spoon-feed anyone. People should think for themselves.

Once we'd pretty much agreed on a certain text, we would then think that the music was no longer a good enough fit, and so we turned everything over again like a compost pile. Full chords or arpeggios for the guitars? In e-minor, d-minor or c-minor? You can't go any lower with this song or the bass strings will start rattling and the low sounds will lose their force.. Do we use an underlying keyboard pattern? String instruments or synthesizers? There are so many ways to design a song and you really have to try out all the variants before you can tell what works and what doesn't.

As I remember it, our days typically started with us playing 'Deutschland' in the rehearsal room. We sat in the kitchen having a nice breakfast, but kept helping ourselves to another bread roll because we were scared. Scared of the moment we'd switch on the computer and listen to the latest version of 'Deutschland'. What on earth were we thinking last night when we did this? After sleeping on it, the next morning it all somehow sounded totally different. The day before it had sounded great! And now we just wanted to switch off the computer after playing it halfway through because it sounded so stilted. So we had to work on it some more. But then, at some point, we finally had a version if the song that we liked. Deustchland would definitely be on this album."

--

This is how Rammstein make songs 🌺