#and i did NOT want to cry over the phone like a lil trauma cry baby

[androidboy]

gf has been in a bad mood lately and she’s coming over tonight and ngl i’m a lil anxious about it. i’m a sensitive boy rn i need to be treated real niceys

[iplayghoul]

𝐒𝐎𝐒.

pairing:: gojo satoru x reader

word count:: 3.2k

warnings:: toxic relationship, cheating, trauma, emotional sex, masturbation, weed use/mention, obsessive & possessive reader, sex toys, childhood trauma, unhealthy relationships, angst, oral sex f!receiving, black coded characters (?), vaginal sex, daddy kink (one time), hurt with little to no comfort, mature content.

notes:: this isnt me yall... i swear LMAOO anyways this work as a part of the SOS Collab by @sirenh4ll ! inspired by my interpretation of SOS by SZA. short playlist that i felt suited the vibe, listening isnt necessary. enjoy!! rbgs wit comments appreciated, ignore typos.

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞. Nah, lil' bitch, can't let you finish. Yeah, that's right, I need commission on mine. All that sauce you got from me. All that shit I gave for free. I don't want it back, want it back. This ain't no warnin' shot. In case all you hoes forgot.

Eyes blurry with a fat glob of tears, lashes heavy with 'em. Your lower half bare, tucked comfortably into your bedroom pillows with a hand lazily holding your right thigh up. Eyes roll around your head slackly, blank and dizzy with the harsh press of your vibrator to your clit. Your hand gripped the wand tight and maintained the slow motions, reddened eyes fluttering shut, swirling around and open again. Your head felt floaty, like you weren't even there. The bright light from your phone, a new message, reflects off the glassy coating of your eyes as Gojo Satoru responds to the 'I miss you' message you'd sent him not even 10 minutes before the vibrator started torturing you.

'toru — you miss me? thats funny.

Your hand came off your thigh, vibrator slipping a little lower in your next hand, leaking hole tingling with the sensation of the circles being rubbed just below your clit. Acrylics tapped against the screen as you hazily attempt to unlock your phone; finger print on the censor then to the notification. Squinting at the brightness a little and coughing at the smoke from the blunt you'd neglected on the side table. It wasn't your first, the coughing turned into whining and fresh tears built up in your eyes again— it pushed the old ones over the edge of your eyes and down your cheeks to lips that were wet with spit, lip gloss and snot from all the crying. Crying that started back up in another round as you typed out a response, hoping to get a desirable answer out of him.

you — yea.

you — u kno last night i cried?

Maybe you were the obsessed one. Satoru doesn't live that far from you, same block almost, but he's lucky you didn't see each other in person since he broke it off. His ass wasn't serious for real, you'd think scrolling on his Instagram, stalking his stories and liking his posts; on your main account so that hoe would know you didn't give a fuck. All that funny shit aside, all you wanted was to call him 'Mine'. He poses up smiling wide, long white lashes that rivaled his teeth and heavy lids drooping over his eyes. Shirtless on the edge of a pool with a pretty thing slung up under his shoulder. You stared at that picture for— I don't know how long, so long the weed was startin to take over n' you saw yourself in her.

Her hips had the same dips as yours, he grabbed the fat on her thigh the way he'd grab yours, her smile dimpled with grills decorated her bottom row of teeth the same way yours did. To be honest, Satoru's needy n' clingy ass was just a sneaky link. Everything about you stalking his Instagram just the day before, wouldn't have happened if you didn't get attached— or was that what he wanted you to think? All that shit you put into him when you said 'You know I like you?'. That morning when you two were laid up next to each other, he woke with the same tranquility and softness he slept with and you said you loved him. You knew he didn't want a relationship. So yeah, you cried n' you cried when he broke it off, your obsession with every bitch he'd talk to, 'She look like a mini-me don't she?'.

Calling him attached, obsessed: weird, when you got deeper into each other, falling in love with you. In your mind you promised you'd stop with all that bullshit you talked to him, realizing how you fucked over the relationship but refusing to admit being the cause of it. His needy ass just wanted to replace you, hung up on you like you didn't crave him every waking day.

'toru — i have a girl.

you — i didn't say nothing about that, baby.

you — wanna cme over?

You stare at the text, lip quivering and hand quivering over the keypad, knowing the exact trap you were walking into, or walking him into. You never imagined being the type to message an ex for a hookup, not even try to make him a cheater but you were horny. Wanted him to suck your tits. To touch you in any way he wanted, slap you, fuck you crazy n' when you back up cause' he's too deep he'd pull you back down on him by your arms. Strangle the fuck out you, spit on you– in you. Anything, in you.

You shut off the vibrator, tossing it a little to the side and picking up a small silicone dildo you had laying on the bed. Toying with it in your hands, bored and aimless, just wanting to feel something. Sex wasn't that good anymore, not when it wasn't with him, you wanted to make love, get hurt, get fucked, make love n' get hurt. You release the tension from your neck, dropping your head back into the pillows and staring at the ceiling and playing the tip of the dildo at your entrance. Pushing it barely in and out just to ear the slick sucking noise and popping it back out, wet and loose for his cock to fill it up. Your eyes flutter shut and you push the dildo in you further, feeling your cunt suction on it like it was a pacifier. Caught up in your head you feel like your spirit becomes detached, the yearning for him so strong you've become disconnected from your body. Wanting him so deeply in your soul. The room starts the spin, behind the darkness of your eyelids and the notification sound from your phone tugs you back into your body and you open your eyes. Cunt still dripping with dissatisfaction with the dildo but it satisfies an itch just slightly.

'toru — already told u, i got a girl.

you — u kno ion care bout that, fuck the consequences fr.

A sigh, "Fuck!" The dildo gets thrown across the room and suddenly you're transported back to being a child, following your mother around the house for even an ounce of attention you'd never receive. Nothing besides a pop in the mouth for talking out of line. It was pathetic almost, your face screwed up into an ugly cry, a sob ripping from deep in your diaphragm straight through your throat. In desperation, grabbing at the spot where your heart was through the muscle of your breast and grabbing your phone. Hands typing fast.

you — please. please satoru please | seen.

Sobs shook your shoulders, hands pressing at your eyes and getting wet with your tears, phone screen still in hand. Your tears touch the sensitive screen and trigger random keys on the pad to send to him. You didn't know if he was seeing it but you didn't care. A part of you felt embarrassed, the sober you from tomorrow would look back on it. He probably thought you were drunk, gone on fuckin' drugs but he wouldn't be too far off. Sitting on your bed in just a big shirt, naked on the bottom, bawling your heart out for a man who you weren't sure pity you actually deserved. A man with everything handed to him as a child, who denied himself love and commitment for that exact reason. Was he Satoru Gojo because you loved him? Or did you love him because he was Satoru Gojo.

Just this once, he thought. He'd allow himself to become attached. To feel love, to grow with someone in love, to become clingy and needy for their love. Only to be shut down, mocked and bullied with words. You're crazy lucky he remembered the pass key to your apartment, you didn't have the heart to change it. Crazy lucky the man you wanted was walking heavy up the stairs to your bedroom. Crazy lucky Satoru was looking down at your pathetic, sobbing form crumpled among your bedsheets and pillows. Insanely lucky that, with red rimmed and tired eyes he sunk his knees onto the bed and crawled towards you with arms outstretched.

Grabbing you by the jaw, Satoru's eyes, shining bright and blue in the dim light of your bedroom, inspects your face. He presses a kiss, soft and gentle onto the tears that streamed down your face anew. He removes your phone from your hand and throws it to the side, "I loved you, you know that?" And your heart aches listening to the past, the maturity in his voice. You nod, silent with a sniffle. His eyes are so distracting, at this point you're peering past his eyes that tell you sorrowful words and instead stare into his soul. It wants you.

Satoru kisses about your face now, you don't know all that he said but it didn't matter anymore. He was here. He kisses your wet face with his soft lips, kissing the tips of your ears and behind your neck while whispering about how much you fucked up. How much he missed you, how much he tried to replace you with someone else. Your pussy pulsed, his lips were on your neck and you felt hot as they kissed and pulls at your skin gently. They travel lower and lower, his wispy white hair tucking itself under your neck as his mouth was open wide n' wet around your tits. Stretching your already stretched out shirt to fit his head in, making room to slot his lips over your nipples and full his mouth.

You gasp, he's grabbing you by your tummy to push you back into the pillows. Satoru's lips urgent about the swell of your belly and below the pooch, he pulls at your belly ring with his teeth to feel you flinch. Your hand cards through his hair, his teeth nipping at the skin of your thighs, around your cunt. Large hands forcing your legs apart, his tall, muscular frame dominating yours. He puffs out a few breaths, teasing your cunt with the heat against it. You dare not say a word, accepting everything he gave you with nothing more than a gasp, whine, whimper and moan. The silent sensual trade between your souls under-way.

He points his tongue, trailing it between the slop left over from your own self-pleasure, circling it around your clit before flattening his tongue to cover more surface. A whine dies in your throat, before he's closing his mouth over your clit, sucking and licking into you like he's making out with your cunt. Satoru slips his tongue in, teasing it at the entrance of your pussy. He pushes his face deeper into you and you grab the pillows, done up hair, messy and in disarray from the crying and whining you'd done in the past week. He looks up at you, through his eyelashes, you could only a bit of his eyes, bright and a deeper blue. Satoru breathes out heavily and plunges his tongue in you, fucking into your neglected cunt with much needed stimulation. His nose pressing into your clit with every motion, and forehead covered with a sheen of sweat, shoved into your belly.

"Do you like that, pretty girl?" Satoru's velvety voice cuts through the ear, his lips hover above your cunt with his hot breath tickling you, a sticky string of your juices connecting his lips back to your clit. It's almost as if knowing it's wrong, he can't bring himself to stop, the softness in his voice as he looks up at you from between your legs. And you only nod, the will to speak having left you completely. All you can do is observe the way his muscles bulge out of his wife beater, holding himself up and gripping your thighs. "I asked you a question, darling." He spits onto your clit and sucks everything into his mouth, the slick sensation around your clit eliciting a whimper, "F– feels good, daddy." your voice barely rising to a whisper, the last word even softer.

With every lick and touch of his tongue you just get wetter, you feel a little spirt of clear liquid find its way into his mouth but you tense up, stomach rolling and clit pulsing like you were holding back your pee and Satoru doesn't let you cum. Pulling down his sweatpants down below his ass, he maneuvers his cock into his hands. You eye him hard, the greyish‐white happy trail going down his stomach, to the well kept hair below his dick. It was fat n' circumcised. The cockhead a mix of pink and purple, leaking pre with veins bulging to the side similarly to his hands, as if it were desperate to release into you. It's a silent process, for the most part, afraid to speak too much words because words make things real. Simply imagining the exchange of 'I love you's' and praises to each other beyond compare was too much for you.

Your ex's bulbous tip was nudging at the entrance of your pussy, you lift your left leg with a hand under the thigh to ease the process while Satoru shifts his hips closer to you. His eyes were trained deeply on you, almost like he was speaking with his spirit. And you return the stare before breaking it when the tip of his dick was dully surrounded by your cunt. Pushed past the first inch and he remained there, groaning loud and throwing his head back in frustration. Maybe words didn't matter anymore, his fucking cock was in you. With every ounce of restraint he had, he held the base of his cock while letting you get used to the burn of the stretch. It wasn't much, thankfully, your cunt wet and pliable from everything you'd done earlier. Blue eyes flutter close, tears were springing in them and he leans forward over you, his shoulders pressing against your face and he bends his head to drop onto yours. Satoru's large hands, up under your knees folded you back as he leaned, his cock slips out. But, your lips press against his shoulders and you decorate his shoulder with your kisses, receiving a kiss at the top of the head. It aches, fresh tears gush in your eyes.

He brings your legs to rest crossed behind your neck and his arms wrap around your back and hug you into him. Satoru forces his cock in slowly, groaning more the deeper he goes and whispering curses above you. His abdominals flex and expand with the slow pace he begins pumping in an out of you. And you cry, head falling back away from his shoulders. Where you'd been staring at the blank ceiling before, his face was there and your blurry eyes connected with his staring right back at you. Mouth slightly agape, and head spinning with every stroke, it felt like everything was going in slow motion and you could only look at him. He drives his cock up to the hilt and curses. "Satoru," You call up to him and his eyes spring with water, your mouth dries, "I really like that," You whisper and whimper with his continuing strokes.

He finds himself enthralled by you, jaw slack and mouth watering. Satoru's eyes flicker from yours to your lips and back, licking his lips and fucking into you quicker. The desperation was starting to take over, walking on eggshells with his cock fucking into you quick and deep wasn't gonna work. His eyes become blurry with tears like yours and he gives in. Hesitating once he embraces your lips in his and you moan out a sigh into each other. Your hands slot into his hair and press him deeper, your tongues dancing together and licking into each others' mouths. Your moans into the kiss mimicing the slap of his hips against yours. He draws back from you, "Fuck, I love you," a strangled sob releases from you and tears drop from his eyes onto your face. He holds your face by your jaw, mushing your cheeks together in his grasp and you gasp, "I– oh shit, it's– deep, I love you— too." Your tears mix together on your cheeks and run down the sides of your face, his hand moves down to clasp the sides of your neck and make the blood rush to your head.

He mumbles curses, 'Shit, shit, shit' with every stroke of his cock in you, feeling your cunt tense up. Your barely responsive frame laying in his hold while soft, low spurts of white-clear liquid wet his cock every time he drags it out of you. He's fucking your squirt back into you. The room was hot, your sweaty skin sticking together with his and the only sounds were the smack of his hips against yours harmonizing with his breathy moans and your whimpers. Your cunt ached and beat with the timing of your heart. "Where you want me to cum?" His voice brings you back to where you were and your eyes roll when you attempt to look at him. Your mind spins fast and your seeing stars, he doesn't stop fucking his cock into you and you're trying not to make a stupid decision. One that would ruin both your lives forever. You think of the pros and cons and he drops his head onto your shoulder and groans.

You're thinking of what your kids would look like, with his pretty eyes, your hair with his albinism. You thought of him standing beside your hospital bed while you gave birth to his babies. His cock was scratching in itch right on your g-spot, digging into the gummy walls of your cunt; you almost felt nauseous. How he'd look guiding your baby through it's first steps, how his blue eyes would light up when it says 'Dada' for the first time. You blink away tears and bite back a squeal as he gets rougher, his lips on your neck and he's mumbling, "Want me to cum in you? Is that it?" And you feel like he's toying with you, giving you what you wanted, giving you the help you asked for in the first place with your S.O.S. And you hiccup, Pushing your hands at his chest 'cause you can't reach his hips to push him away with your legs atop his shoulders.

Your lips are pressed together tight and your moaning behind your tears, muttering 'Thank you, thank you, thank you's' beneath your breath every second that passes by. "Shit. Cum in me, please." You sniffle through the request and Satoru nips at your neck, his cock pulsating with your words and his thrusts becoming eratic. He's spilling into you, "Whatever you want, baby," Hot and white spurts of his cum into your cunt, pushing himself to fuck it deep into you despite his sensitivity. Your lips connect again in a wet, hot kiss, mouths moving against the other's, craving to be as close to each other. In, each other.

You don't know why, but you don't regret it. In the moments you cum all over each other, when time moved so slow, you felt as if you had a chance. A chance you didn't deserve but would hold onto with every fibre in your body when he says into your ear, "You're mine, you understand?" You nod quickly, "I'm yours, I'm yours. I'm sorry." He kisses about your chest as he pulls out, and whispers again, "I love you.

— masterlist.

[mageofseven]

In honor of Asmo's birthday has the aftermath of Asmo's and Mcs surprise birth been written?

I mean, not prepared, but I'll write it now!

I don't often get requests for Asmo stories so I didn't really think about doing it till now.

Also, just so you guys know, I feel a lot better emotionally than I did earlier so I decided to finish this up!

So please enjoy~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

MC woke up late the next day, still exhausted.

Half asleep, the woman took her phone from the stand next to her and started scrolling through Devilgram like she always did when she woke up

And saw that Asmo posted dozens of pictures of their son online.

Liam wasn't even a day old and already the demon has made sure the whole Devildom knows about him.

The human scrolled through and read the comments from each picture, or at least, some of comments. There were literally thousands of comments on each photo of Asmo and their son, saying a variety of things, but a chunk them were saying some pretty hurtful things.

A lot of people were guessing at who the Avatar of Lust's baby mama could be.

Some joked and said that even Asmo probably doesn't even know, that he's such a 'whore' that he probably doesn't know who he knocked up, but they left the kid on his doorstep.

Some said that whoever it is, they're probably a 'bigger slut than Asmo himself'.

Her boyfriend's followers have never really known her identify; MC gets enough attention in the Devildom just for being human and didn't want more eyes on her because of something her boyfriend posted online.

Still, their words hurts and suddenly the woman really needed her boyfriend's comfort.

Where was he anyway?

Earlier, while MC was asleep

Asmo woke up early, honestly too excited to sleep.

I mean, he was a dad. And to the cutest little boy at that! How could he not be excited?

Unlike most of the other brothers, he remembered where Satan's old baby things were and got everything up last night.

Liam was in an old green onsie (for now; this man is gonna make sure his son has the very best clothes 🥰) and had spent the night in Satan's old crib.

Speaking of which--

Liam starting crying.

Asmo strolled over and scooped him.

"Now now, LiLi, let's not wake your Mommy~" He smiled at his son, whose cries turned to happy coos.

"Oh you're just too precious!" He exclaimed, kissing the top of his baby's head.

This was it. Asmo just had to take pictures of this adorable, wonderful, incredible little being that was now his son!

This is where those multi-dozen pictures of Liam came from on Devilgram

And boy was his son's pictures going viral!

So many people were in awe of his baby boy and they should be! He's him and MC's son so of course he's perfect and beautiful and--

Oh. Oops 😅

He found comments from some of his brothers under one of the earlier pictures

Mammoney: Oi! what the hell is this???

L3V1:?!?!?!

Belphie: Ugh, what did I wake up to...

Lucifer: Asmo, my office. Now.

Asmo kinda told the realm before his brothers about his son. But oh well! What's done is done and in the end, his brothers will still love Liam even more than his followers!

Just as Lucifer's comment stated, the lust demon headed to his study with his son, ready to show him off to his oldest brother.

"We're here~" Asmo let himself in, not even bothering to knock.

He went over to the pride demon's desk and presented Liam to him.

"Look at this perfect lil man! From the cute curl on his head to his wings. Oh and those horns!" This man couldn't stop gushing over his son.

In his eyes, nothing and I mean nothing could be more precious than this little boy in his arms. Well, other than MC anyway.

Instead of interrupting the younger man, Lucifer let his brother go on and on about his new baby.

Unlike with other brothers, the oldest wasn't the least bit worried about this child being a trauma baby like how Satan was for him; Asmo was just way too trilled for that to be the case

And despite his confusion, Luce was grateful for that.

Once an opening presented itself, the older brother finally spoke.

"Asmo, can you explain to me just how this child came to be?"

"Oh come on! You know how babies are born~" The lust demon teased.

The man gave a tired sigh.

"I mean, who is the mother?"

Because honestly, Lucifer was in camp 'random demon hookup birthed it and dropped it off in a basket' or something like that, just like some of this followers online guessed

Because all these months, MC never showed a single sign of pregnancy to the pride demon so surely it could not be her, he thought.

"Ugh! Rude!" The lust demon frowned. "Of course it's MC's! I only focus on my Dolly now after all!"

Lucifer's eyes widened.

"How--Asmodeus." He looked at his brother sternly. "You should have told me when you found out."

"MC and didn't know." He shrugged. "Not till he was born last night at least. And isn't he the best little surprise!"

Asmo gave his son a little tickle, causing the boy to giggle.

"How did you not--" Lucifer shook his head. No, he supposed that was not important right now. "Asmo, have you seen the comments on the photos you posted?"

"Of course!" He beamed. "Every is talking about how they love LiLi almost as much as I do!"

"What about the comments starting on the 7th picture?"

The lust demon had clue what his brother was talking about. Eyebrows raised, he adjusted his hold on his son before pulling out his D.D.D. and putting up Devilgram.

There were some nasty comments calling him a whore. So what? Haters have nothing better to do so he's used to it--

That's when he saw the comments speculating about who his son's mom is and calling MC a lot of nasty names for having the Avatar of Lust's baby.

"What!" Worry creased though his face. "How could they say such things about MC! What is wrong with them???"

"By posting those pictures, you're letting the whole realm know your business." Lucifer explained. "It never used to matter much since it was just you and your brothers, but MC has made it very clear that she wants nothing to do with your online life. Now you're gonna have demons searching for her, putting her in the spotlight and potential harm, not to mention the fact that they all know your son's face now."

Oh no. Asmo honestly never thought of this.

"Devil, what should I do??" The man was freaking out now. Oh his poor Dolly! He didn't mean for this.

"For now, just delete the pictures or at least private them." Lucifer told him. "Also, we'll have to keep a closer eye an MC and any suspicious people who might come around the property."

Sensing the stress in the air, Liam starting crying.

Quick to attention, Azzy bounced his son and tried to make him smile. He has always been so good with kids so his son was soon comforted.

Lucifer gave a small smile at the scene.

Overall, he doesn't believe he has much to worry with his brother as a father. Asmo might need small moments of help every now and then, but the older brother had confidence that Asmo would be a great a father.

[bamboobrat]

succession s4 e3 recap: i just called to say are you a cunt? 1/2

ding dong the bitch is dead!

today we celebrate! extra long recap! (you'll find part two here and at the bottom)

it's finally time to fire gerri:(((

this has been in the cards since the hazmat suit remark, but still shakes me to the bones.

and sticking her with cruises? horrifying.

almost as horrifying as logan asking roman to kill her...

"you two, you know, you were close"

dickpickgate, the laughs were too high a price to pay.

on a more positive note, greg is also not having a good day.

is he out of the inner circle? was he ever in? did kerry really look up if a focus group existed and pull him apart like string cheese?

my guess is it's because he is annoying. on this, logan and i agree. visually aggravating, indeed.

(on a more serious note, yes, i've seen the posts about nick and all i can say is believe women)

big boss man's last words:

i wasn't paying attention. karolina was in the scene.

tom uses one line to summarize the episode we never got.

wanting to kill cyd and gerri on the same day can kill you, you know. it's called karma.

felt a strong impulse to skip the intro having seen the trailer, but i'm a good lil nick britell fangirl of course.

also, you know it's going to be a good episode when it's a mylod.

roman is very nervous about breaking up with his girlfriend firing gerri. "let's enjoy this sham marraige and the death of romance", he said...

i know i asked for more gerri. THIS NOT WHAT I MEANT!

roman is me, i am roman etc.

i'm also sad to report that i am, in fact, team hat.

they are sad and angry but not in a perverted way:(

so, so pretty<333 j. for supporting! sarah for lead, please!

it's the least they could do. seriously.

looks like having to kill gerri was the last drop for our romey.

calling your dad a cunt right before he dies? it's shakespearean.

connor associates victoria spunge with the loony bin. some of you might think the cake is not an essential part of this episode, but you are wrong.

shiv doesn't pick up the phone. first the cake, now this!!

this is what my mom tells me all the time: gotta pick up the phone, i could be dying.

and just like that... logan roy died. on the toilet. where all horrible fathers deserve to die. special shout out to tywin lannister!

the writers are absolute sickos for making me actually morn this guy by watching how his children absolutely fall to pieces:

roman repeating how everything will be okay. ken saying he can't forgive logan, but that he loves him. shiv immediately reverting back to her younger self and calling logan daddy...

anyone else have some trauma responses to share?

these asshole kids crying over their asshole father </3

they frantically go back and forth between accepting that he is dead and making action plans on how to save him. it's a beautiful and heartbreaking throwback to the first season, when they still believed their money and status could save them from experiencing death.

even billionaires are mortal. really makes u think 👀

frank calls kendall son and i think it finally sinks in. i'm a pool of tears ready to be wiped up off the floor.

shiv and ken go to let connor know.

they look so smol and lost and sad, i CAN'T. they really are kids.

connor is on some GOAT shit with this line:

well, his father may not ever have liked him, but at least he got the world's strangest hug from his homey romey.

being in denial too hard can cause hug disfunction.

it's not a nice thing to call someone dead.

truly a heartbreaking rant we get from kieran here. one emmy for our favorite slime puppy!

karl continues to be the voice of reason:

i feel connected to this man, spiritually and emotionally.

he should pour one for kerry as well.

our girl is simply not dealing. fingers crossed for a delicious breakdown to come.

tom agrees.

funniest shit i've ever seen.

this is why we like to keep karl around, for the drinking and the nicknames.

part 2

[smileysuh]

Nova my baby love, my king, my sire, every day I wake up and can’t kiss your amazing, magnificent, wonderful, horny brain is a day wasted. Okay I’m gunna dive into what I’ve read since the last time we talked:

Paper clip and extension:

OH MY GOD!!!!! I’ve never been really sexually attracted to haechan and I know I shouldn’t be attracted to THIS heachan but there is something about a slight stalker that gets me going. Him on the phone??? I was eating that shit up. Him coming OVER????? I had to take a breather

Impaled:

nova, this fic has had such an impact on my friend group we’ve started to quote parts of it. It was funny and genuine and cute and I loved it so much. And the patreon extra????? I got so sad the way it ended :( I understand why jeno did what he did but poor haechannie:(

Celebrated:

ain’t nothing in the word I love more in this fucking world than a meanie fic written by you. Everytime you post one I wanna kiss you so hard. They’re always so fucking good and you did not miss with this one!!!!!! And the patreon extra?????? Needless to say I love wonwoo and mingyu like something bad

Class project extension:

idk if I accidentally looked this over when you originally posted this but getting to sit down and read this??? It’s so cute and so meanie. I ate that shit up so hard, they’re so cute together.

I love that you’re venturing off and focusing more on established relationships, it’s always so sweet and makes my heart yearn for a love like that so I can’t wait for more 💙

Also I mentioned the wayv comeback last time and I didn’t clarify, it was just a rumor that’s been half confirmed I think but I still want all your two baddies opinions!!! Also do you collect photocards? Also also I’m glad you’re in recovery, I hope all is going smoothly and good for you!! I want and wish nothing but the best for you Nova!!! (I know we don’t really know each other but I consider us friends on some level)

- 💙 anon 💙💙💙💙💙

DSLJKJLAADSK NOT YOU BEING ATTRACTED TO YANDERE HYUCK

stalkers really are- like... if they're hot... then they're hot as FUCK-

OOOF YOU GUYS LIKED IMPALED??? AHH! THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY! dude- the dynamic between Hyuck and Jeno- fuuuck- frat boy threesomes really just be: god tier

thank you for loving meanie!!!!!! and thank you for enjoying the established relationship aus- they are extra sweet and yearnful eh? :)

and ahhhh! i see about the wayv stuff! LJDSALJADLS

ok i've rewatched two baddies the music video - havent heard the rest of the album yet - and i just- NCT own me. they're so-

they all looked SOOOO GOOOOD!??? the aesthetic was dope- Mark lee and lil face tattoos and a toque- i cry for him DSLKJASDLK

i dont collect photocards! (low key don't collect albums- im a bad kpop stan) i just don't have the money for albums and photocards and such LKSDAJASD and even if i did- i think i have too much poverty trauma to allow myself to get myself nice things like photo cards KLDAJAJD but i'm very happy for my friends that do collect lol-

we're definitely friends! you're BLUE HEART ANON!!!!

[crispin-kreme]

heyy cutiee~ I’m not sure if you take requests but times are hard rn for me can you do an enhypen imagine/reaction where reader goes to enhypens house crying at night because their parents are fighting non stop? :,) thankuu before hand 😓

enhypen’s reaction to you coming at their place because your parents are fighting.

a lil note: i don’t really take requests bUt- this will be a special for you if this can help you cope <33 this also took a bit longer than expected- im so sorry for the delay 🙇‍♀️

gn! reader x bf! ot7 enha (assuming yall dating ok—)

warnings: parents fighting, mentions of divorce, traumas may get triggered

there was screaming in your household here and there. your mother and father fighting over for the nth time. you hid in your room, covering your ears and crying. you held your phone trying to call your significant other, hoping that you can escape for a while and deafen the sounds of your parents’ argument

HEESEUNG

you have talked to him over the phone and told him that you would come to his place

as he hears your cries over the phone he starts to worry

stutters a lot from worry as he tries to reply

“get h-here safely, o-okay?” he says before he ends the call

as heeseung lets you in his apartment you breakdown in his arms. “shh... its okay.” he softly reassures you. you both sit on the couch as heeseung softly rubs your back. he listens to what happened to your parents, even though it wasn’t audible that much because of your sobs. “...so they might separate?” he asks. you nodded in reply. heeseung just hugged you deeply. he couldn’t say anything. he slowly cups your face and wipes your tears “stay here for the night, hm? i’ll tell your mother that you’re staying here.” heeseung suggested as you nodded in reply. how lucky you have someone like him.

JAY

he wasn’t picking up

i mean considering the time it was abt 3am and your parents were still fighting.

so after one last call you decided to flee your palce

and you also hope that jay opens his door for you at this ungodly hour

knocking rapidly, jay suddenly wakes up from his 2 hour sleep. he groans and opens his door. “its three in the morning who the he– oh my... y/n.” he sees your crying figure and ushers you to come inside. “get inside its freezing out here.” jay says as he leads you in. you both stay at his bed. you drink the glass of water he brought for you. jay embraced you and kissed your forehead for reassurance. he knew that your parents were fighting again. it happens non stop. “what if they get physical with each other?” you sobbed out “they’re not gonna be like that.” jay says, trying to reassure you.

JAKE

oh gosh- this boy is gonna stutter so bad when he knows your situation pt2

“if you can- c-come to my p-place? please- you’ll be s-safe here.” he says over the phone

and yes you agree to go to his house

waits for you patiently at the door

as you come inside of jake’s apartment, jake suddenly threw his arms around you. you just sobbed all your emotions out on jake, then rambling about how your parents are fighting “wait- a divorce?” jake suddenly pulls away to see your crying face. “don’t think that way, sweetie. they’ll never do that.” he tries to reassure you. he then kisses you on your forehead.

SUNGHOON

embodiment of the standing emoji

boy did he not know what to do once he starts hearing you cry and your parents screaming in the bg

offers you his place over the phone

you actually speed run to his place

sunghoon finds you crying at the doorstep. he ushers you in and leads you to his bedroom since you have to rest at this ungodly hour. he gives you some tea to calm down and then listens to your parents’ ruckus. “i’m sorry that’s happening.” sunghoon frowned as you unconsciously laid on the bed. “its okay... i just want to be with you. i want them to stop fighting.” were your last words before you drifted to sleep. sunghoon looks at you and placed a soft kiss on your lips “i’ll be here for you always.” he replied.

SUNOO

is very worried

when you apologize for disturbing his beauty sleep he would say “no no its okay! just come here safetly.”

ig he would really pace around the apartment as he waits for you

once he sees you his worry is all gone

“sunoo!” you exclaimed as you feel sunoo hug you tightly. “darling, are you alright? are you hurt?” sunoo worriedly asks as he sees your tear stained face. “my parents...” “they’re fighting again?” sunoo asks. you nodded and cried into sunoo’s arms as he embraces you with all his love. he softly rubs your back and kisses your forehead “cry it all out.” he states as you then continue on the night spending time venting to him.

JUNGWON

i feel like he’ll try to stay calm

probably would know that your parents is fighting

is worried sm inside

paces around the room pt 2

jungwon has given you a heads up that his door his unlocked. you silently and carefully came inside his apartment. he wasn’t in his living room so you decided to go to his bedroom. there, you see him pacing around but it soon stops as he recognizes your presence. “y/n! you’re here.” he says as he welcomes you with his biggest hug. you started to cry and sob in his arms “its okay... its okay.” jungwon reassures you. truthfully, he was speechless to these events and all he could do is to be there for you.

NI-KI

panic

when he hears your parents fighting in the bg while you were calling him, he gets shocked

immediately offers his place to you

stutters in the call pt 3

“get inside! its freezing out there.” riki exclaims in worry as he pulls you in his home. you sit on his couch as he stands before you. “are you alright? your parents seemed like they had a heated argument.” he tells you. riki observed your eyes filled with tears, making him worry more. you didn’t speak- all you did was cry, unable to put words out. riki sits beside you and engulfs you in his embrace. “i’m here for you. don’t worry.” he says.

[homoose]

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part VII

Summary: Spencer’s unresolved trauma catches up with him. Reader gets her heart broken.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, I’m so sorry guys

Warnings/Includes: brief mention of violence and details of a case; brief mention of prison, past trauma; a lil self-loathing and self-sabotaging

Word count: 3.8k

a/n: I knew that this was where this story was going from the very beginning. The dialogue is one of the first parts I had written. It still hurts. Relevant to the story: I operate with the understanding that the Jeid arc does not exist, which also means that Spencer never went to therapy in season 15. Also, huge thanks to @reidscanehand​ for beta-ing and just generally being my hype person!!!!

Song Recs: Shrike by Hozier; Better As a Memory by Kenny Chesney (don’t come for me if Spencer made playlists this would ABSOLUTELY be on there)

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer made his way to Emily’s office, ignoring the team’s eyes on him— varying degrees of understanding, concern, and uncertainty plain on their faces. As he reached the threshold, he paused for a second before moving into her line of sight. When he moved into the doorway, she looked up and waved him in. He closed the door behind him.

She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. Spencer hesitated for only a split second, but it was long enough for her to notice. He lowered himself into the chair and met her eyes.

She folded her hands on top of the desk. “How are you feeling?”

He drummed his fingers across his kneecaps. “I’m fine.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it. She bit back a sigh and flipped open the folder in front of her. “I’m finished with the official report. I wanted to go over it with you before I submit it to the director.” She looked at him briefly before reading out the report. “On January 9th, our team pursued a lead at the residence of suspect Andrew Hurley. We divided into teams to cover the two entrances to the home, as well as the barn behind the house.”

Spencer fidgeted slightly in his chair and rubbed the tips of his fingers together. Emily continued, “During the raid, Supervisory Special Agent Spencer Reid became separated from the team and was ambushed and disarmed by the suspect in the barn.” She paused but didn’t look at him. “The team was unaware of the altercation for some time, during which Dr. Reid employed various approved restraint methods and was ultimately forced to utilize self-defense measures to preserve his own life. Consequently, Mr. Hurley sustained serious injuries.”

She did look at him then, a steady and unrelenting gaze that had him shrinking inside himself. “However, I have determined that Dr. Reid’s actions were justified in order to maintain his own safety.” She returned her eyes to the report. “Mr. Hurley was detained and treated for his injuries at Sebastian River Medical Center, and he is expected to make a full recovery. Based on the cognitive interviews and physical evidence, a grand jury hearing is scheduled for January 25th.” She brought her hands to rest on top of the report.

“I’ll sign off on it and deliver it to the director by the end of business today.” She let out the sigh she’d been holding back. “Reid.”

He pressed his mouth into a thin line, torn between shame and vindication. “Emily.”

“What happened in that barn was unacceptable. And I need you to recognize that.” Her eyes were back on him, a leader’s gaze boring into a weak link. “You went against a direct order. You put your life in danger unnecessarily, and in the process you endangered this entire team. Furthermore, you could have cost us the ability to close this case, to put Hurley away and bring justice to his victims.”

“It won’t happen again,” he assured her.

“No, it won’t.” Her tone told him that if it did, he’d have bigger problems than a meeting in her office. “My recommendation to the director is that you transition to your next mandatory leave cycle early.”

“I can handle—”

“It’s not a request. You’re on sabbatical starting tomorrow. That’s an order, and one you’d do well to follow.” She closed the file in front of her. “We’ll see you back in the bullpen on March 7th.”

“I don’t need more time off, Emily,” Spencer snapped.

He could see her grind her teeth together at his tone, but he couldn’t seem to care enough to feel contrite. She took a deep breath in through her nose, leveling him with a pointed look. “If Simmons hadn’t broken it up, you’d have killed Hurley on the floor of that barn.”

His mind snapped back to the lifeless eyes of Hurley’s victims— eight year old boys in shallow graves. Boys who died afraid, and in pain, and crying out for their mothers. His thoughts raced to the feel of Hurley’s throat under his arm, the crack of the zygomatic under his fist. Emily was right of course. If Matt hadn’t found them in the barn and dragged him up and off of Hurley’s nearly lifeless body, Spencer would have killed him without compunction.

“Reid.” The stern edge was gone from her voice. Spencer refocused his eyes on her face, now showcasing an underlying concern that made his stomach turn. “I’m not recommending another cycle of mandatory counseling at this time, although I reserve the right to require it moving forward. But… I’m asking you to take care of yourself. You’ve been through a lot in the last two years. More than a lot.”

“I said I’m fine,” he insisted, but there was less fire behind it this time.

“And I’m not saying you aren’t,” she countered. “But I am saying that the person in that barn… that wasn’t you. That was not the Reid that I know.” Emily tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “The Reid I know uses his intellect and empathy to see angles that the rest of us miss. He depends on the strength of his mind and his unwavering compassion to diffuse conflicts without violence. He invites his friends to foreign film showings and puppet theater.”

When he didn’t budge, she let out a long breath. “I want you to take the next fifty days to find that Reid and bring him back to us.”

...

Y/N dropped into her desk chair with a huff. They’d been back from winter break for two weeks, and she already needed another vacation. But tomorrow was Friday, and then they had a long weekend. She could make it through one more day.

She closed her eyes for a long moment, tired in the way that only kindergarten teachers fresh off a long break can be. She heard the click of Anita’s shoes coming before she even entered the room, and Y/N couldn’t stop the twitch of her lips.

“Dude. How is it only Thursday?” Anita flopped down into the plush Calm Corner chair.

“This has been the longest week of my life,” Y/N agreed. “My kids were off the chain.”

“There is so much drama in middle school right now,” Anita groaned. “I can’t keep up with all the tea, and you know how I love to stay up to date on the freshest brews.” She shot Y/N a look. “Speaking of, where’s the good doctor?”

“I think they’ve had a lot going on at work,” Y/N surmised. “I haven’t seen Mrs. Jareau in over a month.”

“Well, I’m getting antsy,” Anita complained. “Thought for sure you’d be going steady by now.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but feel a little impatient herself. If she’d known it would be this long before she’d see him again, she might have made a move when he’d volunteered. Then again, probably not. She sighed.

Her phone chimed with an email message, and she automatically swiped the screen open to read it.

Spencer Reid Re:

Are you free today? If you are, I’ll be at Soho.

...

Spencer sat at the table in the corner of the coffee shop. He sipped absentmindedly at his tea, almost gone cold. He hadn’t waited for a reply before leaving Quantico. He drove straight to the city, figuring he’d wait at Soho until he felt some semblance of calm returning to his body.

He didn’t know why he’d emailed Y/N, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted her to show up. Usually he’d talk to Penelope or maybe JJ. But he’d wanted to get as far from the BAU as possible, and he didn’t want to drag Penelope away from the colorful, safe corner of the world she’d created for herself. He didn’t want to fill it with all the tragedy she’d tried so hard to leave behind.

If Y/N did show, he was certain he could keep the conversation vague, focus on her and the classroom, ask her about her holidays. She wasn’t a profiler, didn’t know his tells well enough. She’d be none the wiser, and he’d have her warmth and presence to focus his energy on, if only for a few hours.

Every time the bell chimed, his eyes flew to the door, searching for her. He knew it was ridiculous. He’d only known her for one hundred and eleven days. Pragmatically, he knew she shouldn’t be the one he wanted to talk to. Realistically, he wasn’t planning to burden her with all of the mess of the past week, the past year, his entire life.

But in the six hundred and forty seven minutes he’d spent with her since September, he’d felt more like himself than he ever had. He was never afraid to be himself with her— the silly story voices, the ridiculous costume, the magic trick, the vulnerability about his mom. All of these pieces of himself were things he usually waited years to show people. It had taken her a matter of weeks to draw them out.

He couldn’t help but believe that if he wanted to, he could tell her everything. She’d know exactly what to say. She’d listen for as long as he could keep talking. She’d cover his shaking hands and wrap him up in the warmth of her spirit. She’d give of herself to guide him back to the person he used to be. She’d be more than willing to use her radiance to illuminate the dark so that he might have a little light again.

The bell sounded, and his eyes focused, and there she was. She was wrapped up in a puffed jacket, a bright blue scarf tied around her neck. Her nose was adorably red from the cold, and she rubbed her hands together as the door closed behind her. Her eyes found him immediately. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth, and she gave him an enthusiastic wave. And he knew that he was right about all of it.

She approached the table, unwinding her scarf. “Hi!”

“Hi.”

Her eyes flickered over his face, and then settled on his mostly empty mug. “I’ll get you a refill, and then we’ll catch up?”

He nodded, and she headed to the counter. There had been a part of him that thought she wouldn’t come, but of course she did. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, she liked talking to him. Even among his closest friends, he was often made to feel self-conscious about his tendency to ramble, but Y/N had literally asked him to. She sought him out, asked him questions, listened intently, and remembered things he’d told her. She was kind and thoughtful and genuine. Of course she came when he called.

She returned with two mugs, carefully setting them down on the tiny table. She unzipped and removed her jacket, hanging it on the back of her chair and revealing a crew neck sweater covered in tiny astronauts and rocket ships. When she sat across from him, her hands wrapped around the mug and her eyes met his.

“Hi.”

He couldn’t stop his lips from twitching, despite the events of the day. “You said that already.”

She laughed, and he felt the weight begin to lift. “Yeah, well, I haven’t seen you in forever, so— I’m just making up for lost time.”

“Sixty one days.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s been sixty one days, eighty eight minutes, and approximately,” he looked at his watch, “fourteen seconds since we saw each other last.”

She laughed again, and his mouth completed its curve. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I like that you’ve been counting.” She let her chin come to rest in her hand, eyes studying his face. “How are you?”

He wanted to lie, but she was looking at him so earnestly that he mumbled out, “I’m managing.”

She mirrored the way he’d looked at her across this same table nearly three months ago. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” That was a lie, too. But asking her to meet him was enough of a burden.

“Okay. Well, if you change your mind at any point, let me know.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Until then, I can just regale you with all the kindergarten stories you’ve missed while you were out saving lives.”

And regale him she did. For almost an hour, he listened to her tales of love (budding crushes were taking over recess time), loss (the class pet— a stuffed zebra— had accidentally taken a swim in the Atlantic on a vacation to Florida), and lessons learned…

“So, in case there was ever any doubt, we are now painfully aware that we shouldn’t attempt to flush our underwear.” Y/N let out an exasperated laugh.

She’d been talking to him for fifty three minutes, and his heart already felt one thousand times lighter. “I’m really glad I wasn’t there for that one.”

“I really wish that was the only poop story I had.” She shook her head. “There are a lot of things they don’t tell you in grad school. I think there’d be a global teacher shortage if they warned you about the amount of bodily fluid management involved in teaching kindergarten.”

She toyed with the edge of her empty mug. He watched the movement of her fingers.

“Do you—”

“Do you—”

She laughed and gestured for him to speak first.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

…

They ended up in Mitchell Park. The trees were bare and the grass was brown, but he was with her, and so it was beautiful.

They’d been walking in comfortable silence, when she asked, “Did you change your mind? About talking about it.”

Spencer put his hands into his pockets. “It’s, um— it’s kind of a lot.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got time.”

“I don’t mean— I mean, it would take some time to get through it all. But it’s also— it’s a lot.”

“We don’t have to.” He could feel her eyes on him. “Do you talk to— someone about it?”

“I talked with my unit chief today,” he answered.

“Okay. But— I mean, have you ever— talked to someone. Like, a professional.”

Spencer bristled slightly. Although he knew she wasn’t passing judgement, her question exposed the reality that she thought he could use it. “I’ve had some mandated counseling over the years.”

“Obviously it’s your choice whether you talk to someone or not,” she mused. “I just— I know that I’ve benefited a lot from seeing my therapist.”

Spencer was unsure of what to do with that information. Here she was, confessing that she went to therapy— sweet, lovely Y/N. In comparison, he wasn’t sure if even daily meetings with a counselor would be enough to tame the darkness that had grown and festered inside him over the years. That sometimes threatened to swallow him whole.

For a long while, there was only the crunch of the frozen ground beneath their feet. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an uncertainty about them that felt uncharacteristically heavy. He was hyper aware of her presence, and so he felt her pace slowing down before she came to a complete stop. He walked a few more paces before it became clear that she wasn’t planning to catch up.

He turned and saw that she’d taken a seat on one of the park benches. He carefully made his way to the bench, sitting beside her quietly. She didn’t look at him, but instead studied her fingernails intently. She cracked her knuckles once, twice, and then turned her body slightly toward him on the bench.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” she hedged carefully. “I didn’t mean to tell you what to do, or like, imply that there’s anything wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with you at all. I just—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assured her. The way she looked at him then— like he was something fragile, delicate— made his eyes burn. He kept his voice even. “I know what you meant.”

She smiled, eyes crinkling and filled with something that felt familiar and far away all at once. “Good. I can’t have you out here thinking you’re anything less than wonderful.”

He couldn’t stop looking at her, attempting to solve the impossible cypher behind her irises. As he failed to decode it, his inability to read her blinded him to what came next. He missed the dilation of her pupils, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips, the increase of the beats in her carotid. So when she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, he was momentarily paralyzed.

Her lips were so soft against his slightly chapped ones, pressing with a perfectly gentle pressure. She brought her hand up to cradle his cheek, the pads of her fingers just barely ghosting the curls falling around his ear. She sighed into his mouth and pressed a little closer. He took one peaceful moment to bask in the realization of a desire he’d had for almost four months.

And then she swiped the very tentative tip of her tongue against the seam of his mouth, and his hands involuntarily wound into her hair, dragging her closer. He opened his mouth against hers to swallow her sweet little gasp. His grip on her hair tightened, and she let out the tiniest mewl, and like a switch had flipped— suddenly his mind was full of the darkness she’d spent the evening chasing away.

Y/N beneath him in the dark. Maeve in a pool of blood. His hands around Cat’s neck. His mother’s slap against his cheek. Max walking away from him. His fingers pressing the plunger on a dirty syringe. The slam of the door behind his father. Y/N calling out his name. A knife at his throat under a canopy of bones. Innumerable sets of lifeless eyes staring up at him. His life being snuffed out on the dirt floor of a shed. The clanging of metal bars and fingers ghosting over old bruises. Y/N looking at him with warm, loving eyes. The violent crack of bone underneath his fists. Y/N’s face, lovely and perfect— and then twisted in pain.

He broke away from her, releasing his hold on her hair and pushing her back into the bench. He took a second to gather himself before he dared to look at her. Her hair was tousled from his rough grip; her eyes were half-lidded and focused on him; her lips were red and kiss-bruised and turned up in a small, sweet smile.

And all at once he knew he had to hurt her, and it had to be now. Because what Cat had said about him was true. He might have escaped his mother’s illness, but he hadn’t been able to outrun the violence— and unlike her, he didn’t have the excuse of being sick. He had hurt people, and he had enjoyed it. He would have killed Hurley, and he would have slept soundly. He was no better than the men his team hunted.

Every time he thought he’d moved past it, that wickedness lurking just under the surface would grab him by the throat, choking everything else out. Emily’s directive rang in his ears. Find that Reid and bring him back to us. He knew who she was talking about. The problem was, he wasn’t sure that person still existed.

He was going to hurt Y/N eventually. Better to do it now, before things got too far.

“You’re Michael’s teacher,” he said, as evenly as possible.

Her smile faltered, and she pressed her lips together. He could still feel the phantom press of them against his own, and he was sure he’d never forget it. She cleared her throat. “You’re right, you’re totally right. I, um— I won’t be in a few months, and maybe then—”

“You don’t even know me,” he interrupted.

Now there was confusion in her eyes. That much he could read. She huffed out a small laugh. “I— I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

He looked directly at her. “Why? Because you read my bio on a university website? Because we got tea a couple times?” His voice sounded harsh, patronizing, and he hated it.

Her confusion shifted into shock, and he ignored the tug on his heart. “Are you serious?” she questioned, genuinely searching for a sign that he was joking.

“Dead serious.” He shrugged, and it felt like his bones were breaking. “You don’t really know anything about me, Y/N. If you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“Where— where is this coming from?” Her voice was small, close to breaking. He lined up the last nail on the lid of the coffin.

“Maybe I gave you the wrong impression. I’ve appreciated talking to you. Volunteering in your classroom was entertaining. But I don’t— I don’t see you that way.” It was a lie, and if he didn’t have such a practiced poker face, she might have seen through it. As it was, his poker face had helped get him banned from every casino in Vegas, so he watched her as he hammered the final nail. “You’re just Michael’s kindergarten teacher.”

“Oh.” The hurt flashed across her features— the furrow of her brow, the tightening of her mouth, the storm clouds in her eyes. “Well, I— I really read this wrong, huh?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“Yeah.” He put his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her, the desire to comfort her a strange juxtaposition to the pain he was intentionally inflicting on her. “I guess so.”

She opened and closed her mouth twice before taking a deep breath and nearly whispering, “Okay. Well. I’m— I’m gonna go.”

She brushed some imaginary dust from her pants and then stood. She turned to him, and he waited for her to explode— to scream and curse at him. But it didn’t come. She didn’t look at him at all. “Um— yeah. I’m gonna go.”

He didn’t say anything, and he knew she’d take his silence as indifference. But he had to keep his mouth shut, because if he didn’t, he’d beg her to stay. He’d tell her every single random piece of information he had stored in his brain. He’d tell her that he loved her from the moment he watched her help a child pick a solution from a pencil box. He’d tell her that he only ever dreamt of two things these days— her or the lives he didn’t save. He’d tell her every single one of his deepest, darkest secrets. He’d tell her that sometimes he was so afraid of himself that he could barely breathe. And if he told her all of that, she’d walk away anyway.

So instead, he watched her turn and start back up the path, hugging her arms around herself and swiping her cheek against her scarf.

When she disappeared over the slope of the path, he scrubbed his hands over his own damp face and let himself break.

———

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Series tags: @spacedikut​ @uhuhuh​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @magenta145​ @annesauriol​ @watermelongubler​ @ampal98​ @meowiemari​ @mrsmyaweasley​ @mggsprettygirl​ @ceeellewrites​ @daybabyx​ @joalsglasses​ @chevyimpala00067​ @misshale21​ @ilzieah​​ @froggybagels​​ @gublersbooblers​ @matthcwgraygubler​ @takeyourleap-of-faith​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @flklrevrmre​ @andromedasstarship​ @joodeduarte

Broken tags: @saspencereid @this-is-gublerween

[whileyoursleeping]

Here

Hello all, I wrote a lil oneshot post-canon for the season 4 finale. Shameless fluff. You’ve been warned. This has also been posted on AO3 - link HERE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31520699

TW: Mentions of the shooting; mentions of PTSD.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buck wears socks to bed.

It’s disturbing in a way. Eddie doesn’t know anyone above the age of ten who still wears socks to bed – except, apparently, Buck.

Buck is also still sleeping on his couch.

Eddie’s been home for a week. He’s mastered the on-off motion of his sling for the shower, he’s sleeping okay – as okay as anyone can while being literally fucking shot for no good reason, and not even in Afghanistan, at that – and he’s not in significant amounts of pain, anymore. The meds have taken care of that, and he’s taking them dutifully, because he might not like them but Chris needs him. Chris needs him more a little stoned than he does bedridden from pain.

But it’s been a week, and Buck is still sleeping on his couch.

It’s not even comfortable. Buck’s not small enough to fit on there without cramping up. And Eddie just – kind of hasn’t told him to go home, and Buck just kind of isn’t going home, he’s more or less just ferrying his things back and forth between Eddie’s coffee table and his own apartment, studiously avoiding eye contact each time, as if Eddie is going to catch his eye and say – well, say what? “Go home? Thanks for taking care of my son and carrying my lifeless body to the fire truck and risking your fucking neck again to save my life and keeping a vigil – but go home?” Not fucking likely.

So he’s sleeping on Eddie’s couch. And Eddie’s not sure how to approach it – or if he even wants to approach it. Buck was scared. He said as much, and other people said as much, and Eddie remembers Buck picking him up and putting him in the ambulance. Fire truck? He doesn’t remember the details, he just – remembers Buck picking him up.

If he’s honest with himself – and he’s trying to be after that whole “follow your own heart” crap Carla pulled on him – he doesn’t particularly want Buck to leave. Buck saved his life, and Eddie feels weirdly safer with him here. It’s nice to have him around in the mornings – even if he looks tired. Even if Eddie’s couch has not been useable as a couch in over a week now.

He wanders into the living room that morning to find that Buck is already rubbing his eyes, sleepily, looking totally worn out and like he’d like to go back to sleep, but can’t. He sits when he hears Eddie enter – a dog standing at attention.

“Okay?” he checks worriedly.

Eddie smiles drowsily. “You know the pain meds keep me pleasantly high almost all day, right?”

“Yeah.” Buck doesn’t look soothed. “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m okay.” Eddie pats his shoulder on the way past, yawning. “Breakfast?”

“I’ll make pancakes.”

~*~

Buck is exhausted.

Eddie knows this because Eddie wakes up a lot at night and goes wandering. He does this because despite the pain pills, he’s just not moving enough to be tired, and his normal army sleep schedule never really left him. He’s like a fucked-up, traumatised meerkat – awake every two to three hours, patrolling the perimeter, looking for enemies.

Just so happens that his perimeter is the length of his hallway between Chris’s room and the couch, where Buck is decidedly not resting peacefully. His enemy, at the moment? The Roomba. Chris has stuck several dozen googly eyes to it and, at one point, had armed it with a butter knife. It’s mildly terrifying. Butter-knife-less at the moment – but terrifying. Eddie squints at it as he moves towards the kitchen.

(“Because it’s funny, Dad,” he’d giggled. “Maybe it’ll make Buck laugh.”

Buck had laughed, but in a strained, I’m-so-tired-I-want-to-cry kind of way. Eddie’s dreading coming off his pain pills for the pure fact that it’ll probably be him next. PTSD is a bitch.)

He was going to get water, but that requires moving through the living room. Buck is crashed out on the couch – his duffel is spilling over on the floor, his phone facedown on the coffee table. Eddie can see him relatively well with the street lights and moon lighting up the smallish living room – he doesn’t look like he’s sleeping peacefully. In fact, even as Eddie watches, Buck twitches.

He goes ramrod still, abruptly not thinking about his heavily-armed Roomba or meerkat analogies. He is suddenly, painfully, sober – the pain pills feel burned out of him as he watches Buck twist, his fingers twitching and then curling into the duvet, face scrunched.

A nightmare. Buck is having a nightmare. Eddie’s not high anymore. The pills are no longer filling his head with cotton and fuzz – every single sense feels alight like it hasn’t in two weeks, tuned in to Buck, struggling, on the couch.

What’s he supposed to do? What can he do?

He watches, alarmed, as Buck gasps and jerks – his stupid socked feet flail and kick into the arm of the couch, and the duvet goes flying back. Buck’s upright, at least semi-upright, on one elbow, panting and scrabbling against the thin, shitty mattress – for what? Purchase? A hand to hold? A memory to cling to, something to soothe him through the remainder of the night?

The room’s quiet. Eddie’s frozen, unsure of what to do. Is this what it was like after the tsunami?

After a moment, Buck makes a sound – a whimper, or a cry, or some awful hybrid of the two – and collapses back, rolls onto his side, away from the TV, and curls up, not bothering to adjust the duvet. His feet – he’s wearing white socks tonight – flex, toes clenching.

Buck drags the corner of the duvet up over his face. The next noise he makes is very clearly a quiet sob and Eddie – oh, he cannot stand this. He’s not going to watch it any longer.

It’s not like he doesn’t know Buck hasn’t been sleeping, at least not well. He did the first night – eleven hours, actually – but every night after that has been plagued with nightmares. He’s heard Buck rustling around or pacing and watched him try to put on a brave face every morning at breakfast, and he can’t do it anymore.

His feet cross the floorboards. He sits on the edge of the couch – Buck flinches – and puts his free hand on Buck’s shoulder, rubs gently.

Buck sniffles. He doesn’t move for a long time, keeps the duvet up over his face. He doesn’t make any more noises, but his shoulders shake, and Eddie remembers – I kinda lost it when I told him you got shot. I’m sorry, I should’ve held it together.

Eddie wonders when anyone reasonably expected Buck to hold it together.

Buck moves suddenly – his fingers grip at Eddie’s, and they’re shaking. He holds on and – well, if Buck wants to hold hands, it’s not like they haven’t done it before. Eddie held his hand for an hour or more while they were getting him out from under the ladder truck two years ago. Eddie’s happy to hold his hand.

He doesn’t know how to help. Buck’s still sniffling, his face angled away from Eddie’s. He’s happy to take the comfort, but not happy to let Eddie know he’s crying, apparently.

They sit like that for a while. Eddie’s helpless and almost angry for it. It’s not like he hasn’t suffered – he has. It’s going to take therapy, physical and mental, to get past this. But Buck – Buck watched it happen. Watched him almost die. Buck’s not stoned and he wasn’t shot and there’s no buffer between him and the memories. For the first time, Eddie is angry at the team – how has no one noticed? How has no one cared?

Buck drags a hand across his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Bet you’re sick of me crying.”

“What?” Eddie asks. “No, I – I am, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

Buck nods into the pillow. His legs flex – he has to be cold; the air is definitely cool and Buck hates cold weather with a passion. He’s wearing socks and boxers and a hoodie and all of that thoroughly confuses Eddie – he wants to arrange the duvet properly but he can’t with Buck clinging to his hand. That’s fine too.

He thinks about it for a moment. Problem – Buck is sad; Buck is scared. Buck is clearly traumatised. Nobody appears to have addressed that last one.

Solution. Well, Chris seems to help a lot. But Chris is asleep, and Eddie can’t really properly address the trauma thing.

But he can maybe make Buck feel less alone.

He removes his hand from Buck’s shoulder, clumsily adjusts the duvet, and then climbs under it, adjusting until his side is pressed to Buck’s back and he can feel Buck trembling horribly against him. His legs twitch; his socks brush Eddie’s bare feet.

“Why do you wear socks to bed?” Eddie asks.

There’s a long pause. Then, “That’s what you want to know?”

“Sure.”

“I… don’t know?”

Eddie makes a face at the ceiling. Buck hasn’t rolled over. “You don’t know?” he asks dubiously. “Are your feet cold?”

“Not particularly.”

“Do you wear socks to bed in summer?”

“I… sort of do it all year round – Eddie, what’re you doing?”

He doesn’t know, truthfully, beyond trying to cheer Buck up. Although, maybe he just – needs to cry? Sometimes when Chris is upset he just needs to cry. No solutions, just… comfort.

He pushes against Buck’s back more, and, because he can’t reach Buck’s hands like this, links their ankles together. Buck shifts – but only to stop the knobs of their bones rubbing uncomfortably. He sighs, shakily, but when breath finally leaves his lungs entirely, he almost feels steadier.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he whispers.

~*~

Buck rolls during the night, a soft breath leaving him. Eddie’s only aware of it because it ghosts across his throat – Buck’s rolled towards him.

The mattress shifts. Buck is deliciously warm against Eddie’s side – his socked feet brush against Eddie’s shins, a few times, almost deliberately. Buck sighs again, settles.

The air goes still. Eddie can smell something new and different, faintly – the couch bed smells like Buck, like the woody, fresh scent of his aftershave and a little spicy and like Buck’s own shampoo. There’s something indefinable about it – something that’s just how Buck smells.

Eddie yawns. His jaw cracks. His shoulder, at the moment, doesn’t hurt, even when he shifts and looks for Buck’s hand, clumsily – he finds it, pulls it up until he can link their fingers together and rest their joined palms on his own belly. He squeezes. Are you there?

A second passes before Buck squeezes back. His palms are rough and hot and his thumb nervous where it brushes Eddie’s knuckles.

Yes. I’m here.

Eddie yawns. He goes back to sleep.

~*~

The sunlight punching through the living room window wakes him up.

He blinks. He’s on his back still – his feet are cold. When he turns his head to the side, the first thing he sees is Buck’s face – buried somewhere in the vicinity of Eddie’s shoulder, eyes closed, mouth slightly open.

He’s drooling. It’s a little cute. Eddie raises his head – his shoulder twinges unhappily – and looks to the end of the couch.

Yep. Buck’s still wearing socks. His legs are curled up, almost like he’s trying to keep warm, and he’s more or less pressed to Eddie’s side, but not quite on top of him.

Eddie’s struck with the sudden though that if his shoulder wasn’t injured, he’d roll over – put an arm over Buck and let Buck hide as long as he needed to. He can’t do that right now, and the impulse is frightening if only because it doesn’t come from the so-called brotherly love he’s continued to tell himself is what he feels for Buck.

It’s not so frightening he can’t deal with it though. Quietly. And he might not be able to hug Buck right now – but Buck slept through till morning, the first time in more than a week in all likelihood. He even looks peaceful.

If Eddie does pursue this – whatever this is, this little, fledgling, hopeful thing in his chest – he can only hope that Buck reciprocates. It’ll take time, of course. Plenty of it. But – Buck is already Chris’s other parent in the ways that matter and he’s kept bedside vigils and they slept here, last night, holding hands for the majority of it. Is there a lot left to think about? Eddie doesn’t think so.

He raises his head again. Looks down.

Except those socks, maybe. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to that.

[wh6res]

Aggressive 10, Lucas

power trip | lucas

synopsis. where's your place, if not kneeling before him?

warnings. bullying, yandere themes, swearing, bones breaking, violence, slut shaming, lucas is a major asshole

for the most part, it was your fault. because as the saying goes, what you allow will continue. and fuck, he’s been getting away with how he treats you for the last four years.

the first time you step foot in the school, you immediately knew his name. it was impossible not to know lucas when he’s such a model student, how intimidatingly perfect he seemed to be—he’s smart; top of his class, athletic; he won the mvp award in basketball last year. his face and physique is a bonus in all its entirety. not to mention, you heard he's quite the sweetheart, always smiling, charming, with a loyal and dedicated fanbase. you thought these stuff can only be seen in dramas, but of course, the world works in such strange ways.

he was always aloof whenever he striked, pretended to be innocent with those huge eyes of his, partnered with the faintest pout on his lips as he preaches about doing no harm when he literally tripped you purposely only seconds ago. he’d say stuff like “you need help?” “are you okay?” “let me help you get to the nurse’s office” “i’m sorry, if it's my fault” all the while staring down at you with this dark glint in his eye buried deep from the surface of his facade, a look only you can recognize.

you doubt his friends were any help. after all, there’s no hope that lies on the people who look the other way. pieces of shit who lack the heart to help you. but then again, why would they, anyway? it wasn’t as if you could offer them anything, while lucas on the other hand, has everything they’d ever want to have—connections, reputation, popularity, money, the list can go on and on.

“i just don’t understand why you want to help me all of a sudden.”

because you don’t. you truly don’t. it’s been four years—you’re all graduating on the next month—and only now did hendery want to extend his help to you? is this some kind of joke? is this all part of one grand scheme, one last kick for lucas to enjoy seeing your crying face before going your seperate ways?

you didn’t want to trust him, not one bit. but he’d somehow won you over when he talked about all these plans of lucas messing with your college applications, about how easy it’ll be to talk to their deans regarding your “shady” high school life, how they’d be better off “giving the slot to a student more deserving” and hendery had even showed you screenshots and pictures of the evidence all found in lucas’ house.

and it was as if luck was finally shining down your path. finally, proof of all the horrible things lucas has done to you. although there is no hard-rock evidence of the four years of bullying, emotional trauma, and anxiety he gave you, this last plan he had of thoroughly ruining your life forever is a good enough manifestation of his true nature. and for once, you’re finally going to fight back.

there were no more students loitering in the school by the time you and hendery met up at the student council’s office now turned yearbook committee headquarters. you had snorted at the name they gave it and hendery, too, found the name rather comedic in a sense.

you were both here to print the photos you’ll use to show the principal to plead for lucas’ suspension or extermination. the both of you were in the middle of a lighthearted conversation when the boy got a phone call. he had quickly excused himself, giving you a good-natured pat in the head as he stepped out of the room to take the call, thankful with his back turned or else he would’ve felt the blazing heat off of your cheeks from where he’s sitting across you.

you’ve grown incredibly close to hendery for the last few weeks leading up to graduation as he played double agent between you and his friends. shooting you quick winks and small smiles whenever he thinks no one is looking—but of course, there will always be someone looking.

“of all my friends, baby? kunhang? i’m a ‘lil disappointed. that guy can hardly even act, much less help you devise a good plan to bring me down.”

it felt like a cold bucket of ice water had been dumped onto you when you see lucas walking through the doors, sporting casual clothings rather than the school uniform. has he been waiting this whole time? how did he know you’d still be here?

the foldable seat underneath you topples over when the back of your knees hits it. you try to remain indifferent, tried to square your shoulders as you stand a few feet away from your bully, hands braced against the table as you cover the few pictures splayed out.

“there’s no use for that,” lucas retorts, scoffing. “i already know everything. kunhang is…”

he trails, looking down on the rings on his fingers as he twirls one of them thoughtfully. you don’t like the smirk that starts stretching on his lips, his head shooting up to look at you with a gaze that sent great fear down your spine.

“he’s being taken care of… all because a stupid little bunny thought she can get away from all this.”

“what the fuck do you even want from me?!” you scream, taking steps back when he took steps forward. “i’ve never done anything to you. what the fuck is your deal—”

“my deal is how much of a bitch you are!”

you yelp when his hands darts out to fist the collars of your shirt. there’s a sting from the coming onslaught of tears but you don’t let it fall, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“you walk around here looking at everyone and everything with this air of arrogance around you. thinking you’re so fucking high and mighty with that cold person act but i can see how much you’ve rolled your skirt up. it’s a;; pretty amusing, actually. what are you, a fucking whore? a slut? trying to get my attention is that it?

ah, there it is. the lovely, lovely sight of your red face and the crocodile tears streaming like waterfalls down your cheek as you fought against him. it gives him such a power trip to see

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” you fight, voice barely stable. “i’m not a sl… slu…” fuck it, you can’t even say it. “i don’t want your attention! you’re a fucking bully!”

he laughs condescendingly, dropping you to the ground. “see, that’s where you’re wrong. i’m not a bully…”

you groan aloud in pain when you hit the floor and you sobbed louder when he harshly steps on one of your hands as you try picking yourself back up again. you shoot him a pleading look, one that sent jolts of sick pleasure down his stomach, but he doesn’t relent until he hears the joints of your fingers cracking under his boots.

“i’m a god. and that’s where you belong, worshipping me on your hands and knees.”

[shyrose57]

YOO BROTHERS ANON BACK FROM THE DEAD? My phone started to fucking die half way (like extreme lag, keyboard stopped working at times, sudden shut offs, etc) and I was too scared to work on this in fear it'd get deleted. But im fucking back and have a new phone so I was able to finally finish. Plus after I finished the Brothers AU stuff I decided I hated Tip of The Iceburg AU lore and wanted to redo it so held off til I got that mostly done. I'm also trying to redo From Future to Past a lil bit but thats going slowly and decided I already waited way to long. Some other stuff happened as well like falling out of the fandom (Breath of The Wild and Linked Universe I got into and am actually still kinda in) then getting tossed back in but, anyway there's some smaller details I left out of Rans time living in the wild but everything here is the big stuff. 

Keep in mind most of this happens when he's just 13. And he never acknowledges or treats his trauma, leaving it to build and affect him more and more over time. 

When Ran first steps out of Mizu and into the world, he has nothing but a sword at his back and a book with little information on how to survive at his hip. The book really only provides him how to make certain things (like tools) and some basic information (Spiders are passive in daytime, how to farm, and basic information about each nether biome). The book acts more like a brief overview of the overworld and little information on how to survive than an actual survival book. Because of this the book is basically useless, Ran eventually uses it as a way of marking down notes and ripping out papers to cover wounds and tie things. He quickly learns that sleeping in high places (like a tree or a hole in a mountain) is the safest possible place to sleep, as no mobs or people can get him. Though due to the nights of constant screaming from mobs, his own internal fighting, and eventual hunting, he develops insomnia and paranoia. Leaving him unable to close his eyes in fear of being ambushed, believing himself to be forever unsafe and in danger. When he does manage to sleep he keeps his weapons nearby (like in his hand or under his pillow) and jumps awake at the slightest sound. 

He moves around constantly, never staying in one place for more than 2 weeks. He eventually finds a snow biome and after seeing the little amount of mobs and knowing the snow is to deep for any sane human to try to travel through, he decides to stay there for a entire year and a half before moving again. During this time he grows both physically and mentally. He goes from being a small, lithe 5'5 13 year old to being a strong 6'7 15 year old. He also uses this time to come to terms with what happened and swear revenge against Ranbob for everything he's been through and everyone who's died. Even when Ran came to terms with what his brother did, the promise "Ill never abandon you." Continues to ring in his head, which does nothing but fuel his hatred, believing his brother has been lying to him ever since he was a child. While also growing his knowledge on the world and his survival knowledge, becoming an almost perfect survivalist. 

When he was first alone and dealing with all the emotions brought upon him, he finds out he's hunted very suddenly. He first approached Raq (who he didn't know at the time) when he was desperate and fresh out of Mizu, asking him if there's any nearby town or city or really anything. Raq pretends to want to help Ran and let's him stay at his camp, giving him food and a warm place to sleep. But its 2 full days later, deep in the night when Raq finally trys to attack him, aiming to incapacitate him. But Ran is able to escape him and run away but not without a injury. 

During the fight Raq manages to hit him, specifically on his left ear. He manages to cut deep, but not deep enough, leaving the top of his ear just barely hanging on. Ran runs away and actually has a bit of a head start due to him tripping Raq. But Raq manages to follow/track him, due to the blood flowing out of Rans ear. Ran eventually realizes Raq is tracking him by the blood trail he's leaving, so he stops, steals himself, and rips off the remaining part of his ear, barely holding back a yell, then Ran pushes his hand down on the wound and continues to run. Raq finds the ear and simply hums, intrigued by the lengths Ran will go to escape, before turning around, deciding to let Ran escape this time, because he knows he'll see him again. Ran continues to run, terrified and borderline crying due to the fear and pain. For the next 3 days he believes he is still being followed by Raq so he continues to run, never resting until he eventually collapses from exhaustion. His ear eventually heals over but never grows back, it becomes a reminder of the fact he is being constantly hunted by people and will never escape them. 

Ran encounters Raq a total of 32 times during his time living out in the wild. And every time Ran manages to get away, though sometimes more injured than others. Eventually it gets to the point Raq greets Ran like a old friend. After their 3rd encounter Raq starts to bring others with him, eventually he has 5 others helping him hunt Ran. Though Ran grows and is able to either outwit them by using traps or is just simply able to avoid them most of the time. Though he still gets hit at times, once he made a mistake and a trap failed, leading to him getting stabbed and passing out cause blood loss.

The Nether is less than kind to Ran but kinder than the overworld. He gets shot a lot from both ghasts and skeletons. And almost falls into lava multiple times. He gets stabbed and trips more times than he can count. But he actually manages to make acquaintance with the Piglins he meets due to him being polite to them and giving them gold for nothing in return. He actually is close enough to them to get directions for free and is even given resistance potions when Ran states he is leaving and not coming back as a farewell and stay safe gift. He ends up staying in the Nether for much longer than a normal person would and becomes adapt at traversing and surviving in it. It almost becomes his safe spot because the hunters have never followed him into the Nether. He would've lived there if he could, but due to the heat he isn't used too and the fact he just despised Ghasts more than the hunters, and they were everywhere in there, he didn't stay. But would often vist. Eventually he found netherite which he quickly covered his first and only diamond sword with. His sword also had the enchantments, sharpness 2, unbreaking 3, and sweaping edge. Over time and use the enchantments dimmed, only faintly remaining. At this point Ran had to flee his snow biome house due to a sudden attack, leaving behind the materials he needed to fix the enchantments and his sword. So he abandoned using it, but kept it cause it helped him through years of fighting, he can't exactly drop and leave it.

Extra stuff I couldn't find a way to fit in:

-Ran manages to find a village but actually gets kicked out cause he punches the blacksmith for upping the price of an iron sword.

-Ran slowly grows more cold, uncaring, rude, and harsh over time due to trauma. He doesn't realize he became this way due to untreated trauma until he arrives to The Pit where Watson is able to help him start to slowly heal. Which is why he becomes more open and joking in The Pit because he feels safe and loved. 

-When the group leaves The Pit he becomes cold and hard again due to habit. Its his way of subconsciously defending himself.

-His body is covered in scars due to the hunters and his brushes with mobs. 

-Ran knows how to tailor his own clothes and has made many different kinds of clothes, all designed for certain biomes. 

-Ran never farmed, he always hunted.

-Ran never really built anything, instead he preferred to dig into the side of a mountain or make shelter in a cave. Its only in the snow biome did he actually build a house. And even then it was very clearly meant to be a temporary house. Though he did end up living there longer than he intended. 

-He was at first extremely reluctant to kill, but was forced to kill hunters and animals multiple times. To the point he became almost numb to it and wouldn't hesitate to kill if he was threatened. 

-He would sometimes dream about his family only for it to end with them being slaughtered, which really messed him up and he would just lay in bed mindlessly every time it happened. These dreams still happen. 

Also a edit to when the brothers met in the Pit, Ran actually gets his hands on a broken trident accidentally left in the arena (its the front end only, and the middle spike is shorter than the rest due to a error when being made) and ends up tripping Ranbob then stabbing the trident into the ground over him (if that makes sense?), actually trapping Ranbob, with the middle spike just above his throat, leaving him unable to move unless he wants to cut his neck and trapped on the ground. 

Tip of The Iceburg:

So Karl's watch is still damaged. And Isaac is still the one to convince him to seek help from the others. But midway through the meeting Phil speaks up, mentioning how he found a book in a ruined village that had a replica of Karl's Watch etched into the cover, but is in a language he's never seen. After passing it around the table no one recognizes it. Everyone's discouraged until Foolish suggests they look for the other Travelers (what ima call the Tales people) and maybe one of them will know. Eventually, with picture pinning of supposedly who could be in their world, they all split off into groups to look. Ran is still the first found, but when he's shown the book he actually confirms a part of it is in a old enderman language that fell off long ago, he's able to translate half of that section but says that Ranbob, who studied old languages much more thoroughly than Ran can do the rest (cause here their still brothers but nothing in Brothers AU happened). Giving everyone hope. Eventually Ranbob gets found and translates the rest, but a great amount is still untranslated, which is a problem. So now its a journey of finding more people and mixing languages to find out the rest. 

A sudden twist to the story happens when Billiam joins, and due to his experience with the egg is actually able to translate a random page in the back of the book (the egg made its own language to prevent its plans being discovered). Where they find out the egg is what broke Karls watch, because to it humans are nothing but entertainment, and it gets joy seeing them suffer and wants to mess with their lives. When it gets revealed to the rest of the SMP what the page says, everyone gets pissed. And even when its found how to get the Travelers home they refuse to leave until the egg is destroyed, a few are mad at it and want revenge, others are scared and want to try to prevent it from coming into their time. Karl eventually relents and lets them join in making a plan to take down the egg.  

Also have some fluff scenarios with the brothers since its been a while:

-There's two types of resistance potions in their world, fire resistance and water resistance. The latter of which the brothers have memorized how to make. Their friends do not know water resistance exists. Which leads to the brothers pranking their friends by drinking some then jumping into a lake. Giving Watson a heartattack and making Isaac sob. The two quickly reemerge seeing their reactions and calm them and reassure them. After the explanation you can bet they got a talking too and where grounded. 

-Ran teaches Ranbob to fight!

-Ranbob teaches Ran to fish, Ran complains the entire time. 

-Ranbob responds by threatening to teach Ran how to farm. Ran stops complaining after that….mostly

-Everyone has found the brothers either asleep against each other or one asleep on the other at least twice. 

-*insert Arthur get out of the tank meme but instead it's Ranbob trying to get Ran out of a tree so he can greet people.*

-Ran has his first night in years without a nightmare! 

Now something else I'm planning to work on soon: What happened to Ranbob after Ran left Mizu?

I hope me sending stuff is still ok after so long of sending nothing. 

Good to have you back, Brothers Anon! And sorry to hear about your phone, that sounds like it must've a day.

--------

Brothers AU:

I see we're back to Traumatize The Brothers Time, fantastic.

The fact that Ran has these items on him is interesting. Did he just have them with him when he was fleeing? Did he have the time to grab them? Was he preparing ahead? What led to him having these useful tools on hand when he was forced to flee?

How does he fare with mobs, being a mob hybrid himself? I think it's somewhat been implied that he's good with Endermen, but what about others?

How do the gladiator gang go about helping with his insomnia and paranoia, if they are aware of it?

What's it like for him during his time in the snow-biome, since he's there for awhile? Does he make a more-permanent camp/shelter? Do anything particularly interesting?

Poor Ran! That must've been quite the shock for him, and I imagine it didn't help his trust issues.

How does he get to the Nether? Does he have a base there? What do the piglins think of him, and vice versa? How does the Nether life effect him overall?

What happened to those materials left behind? Where they discovered? Does he manage to go back and get them on the roadtrip? Do they visit his homes on the trip?

How does the group react to his sudden change when they're leaving? What kind of clothes does he make? Does he ever make some for the others? Does he enjoy it, or is it just because it's necessary?

How do the fishermen feel about the close call with the trident, and what happens to the weapon?

------------

Tip Of the Iceberg:

I don't remember if this was mentioned before, but was it Karl's watch that caused the issue then? Who wrote the book? Does the egg have a connection with them?

How do they fare with their plans to take down the Egg(and potentially the Eggpire, if that's a thing here)? How do those with previous experience with Egg feel about this, and what part do they play?

--------

Fluff! At long last!

I love how their thought process went to that. 'We can make water resistance potions, lets jump in a lake in front of our friends'.

That sounds like it should be entertaining.

Ranbob knows how to farm?

That's such a funny mental image. 'Ran, get out of the tree, you have to socialize'. 'Hissing'.

Yay, good for him!

Ooo, what?

Always.

[saintqueer]

On Being 13

by saintqueer

Date Written: July 2019

CW: brief mention of an eating disorder

I will be posting a series of old creative nonfiction essays I wrote in 2019-20 every Friday and tagging them #a saintqueer original. Some might be a little outdated but I'm getting my feet wet in the experience of sharing my own writing again. Hope you enjoy! My inbox is always open.

Your name is Jordan. It is 2006 and you just turned 13. You are officially a teenager. Not a preteen. Nor god-forbid a tween. You’re in eighth grade at middle school in the Bay Area suburbs and you just got your first cell phone. It’s a silver LG flip phone without a camera. Modern social media has been born but is not yet widespread. Myspace and AIM are still the name of the game. And your friend’s Top 8s are literally worth crying over. You buy songs you like on iTunes for 99 cents. Songs like Far Away by Nickelback and Jesus, Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood. That is, until you wizen up and start using LimeWire in 2007. By that time, you’ll think your tastes much improved. You’ll illegally download songs like Buy U a Drank by T-Pain, Wait For You by Elliott Yamin, and everything Chris Brown puts out. Every single feeling you have is so large it’s like it has the potential to kill you. Weird shit is happening to your body. You started puberty early but it shows absolutely no sign of stopping. Things just seem to be getting weirder and more emotional. You cut your own side bangs and they look hella cool.

Ok, let’s pause there. I’m gonna go ahead and break the fourth wall here. Reader, I was planning on doing this entire piece as a kind of immersive second person experience. But. I. Just. Can’t. It’s too hard and writing about being 13 is difficult enough. I think that intro was enough to get you in the right head space of Jordan circa 2006-2007.

Over the last year, there has been more truthful explorations of the adolescent experience in media than ever before. With shows like Pen15 and Big Mouth and films like Eighth Grade, I feel like for the first time I’m starting to come to terms with my own adolescence. Being 13 is really fucking hard. And 13-year-olds get such a bad rap when, honestly, they’re just trying to do the best they can with all the shit they’ve been thrown.

I first felt compelled to write this piece when reading a section of a book from my favorite podcaster, Karen Kilgariff. Karen describes a lecture series she went to in which one of the presenters made a case in defense of 13 year olds. Karen writes that being 13 “is the hardest age you ever have to be because of all the chemicals and hormones constantly raging through your body. It’s like you’re being drugged and then woken up with speed on a daily basis. All social structure implodes and resets itself in a totally unfamiliar way. You’re simultaneously the oldest version of a child and the youngest version of an adult, so you don’t belong anywhere. You don’t get babied, and you don’t get respect.” Basically, it fucking sucks!!!

At 13, my eating disorder was already in full swing and my body-dysmorphia-riddled brain had no shortage of reasons for why my life would be so much better if I weighed 25 pounds less. They would weigh us in gym class, one by one, and assign us our BMI classification (mine was “overweight”). I was constantly dieting, with resounding approval from family and peers; starving my growing body of whole food groups and then binging. My school used to sell these pizza hot pocket things in plastic wrapping called pizza sticks (they were so DELICIOUS). One time, I found an unopened and still-warm pizza stick on the floor next to a garbage can. Wildly hungry from my meager carb-less lunch I picked it up off the floor and shoved it into my mouth, facing the wall, in as few bites as possible so no one would see. OFF THE FLOOR…OUTSIDE. I think it was on a pile of leaves and other trash (though unopened, it was slightly flattened on one side so it might have been stepped on?). This is actually the first time I’ve told anyone that I did that. Blogging is fun.

I was truly beginning to understand that my body was a commodity in society. I couldn’t take up space as a girl and to be beautiful was to be frail. My body was a sexual thing but I was not allowed to be a sexual being. Boys were the horny ones, not girls. But boy, was I! The thing was I couldn’t tell anyone, only the bathtub faucet could know. This was heightened all the more by my church and my faith. Youth group taught me the importance of dressing modestly and how we had to do everything within our power to help easily tempted boys remain sexually pure. I had so much shame that I had any kind of sexuality at all.

A majority of us wanted to fit in when we were 13. And I wanted it desperately. It’s not necessarily that I wanted to be cool, it’s more like I just wanted to belong. I wanted to have best friends. I wanted boys to have crushes on me. I wanted to be wanted. And it never happened for me. I didn’t develop deep lasting friendships until my late teens. I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 21, for god’s sake. My friends at 13 were changeable and excluding. I felt like I was constantly vying for their approval and as I entered high school in 2007, my social life became the center of my world.

Admittedly, high school felt much more enjoyable than middle school. I had established my place in the cool crowd and shirked academics. I stopped listening to Christian Rock and started listening to Lil Wayne and learning how to twerk. I cut class with a friend to straighten my hair with my hot pink straightener in Starbucks. I got in trouble with the cops for underage drinking. I got better at actually starving myself for a few days at a time instead of just dieting. I was significantly better at swearing. However, every single thing still felt like the biggest deal ever and it felt like it would always be that way.

Now, over a dozen years later, I hardly ever think about how it felt to be 13. I always forget that I “fell in love” with a boy named Alex at church summer camp who I saw from afar five times and talked to once for two minutes. It’s hard to believe now that I wrote his name in sharpie on my converse sneakers and sang I Drive Myself Crazy by *Nsync while crying and staring directly back at myself in the mirror.

This might seem unforgiving but I feel like the one redeemable thing about being 13 is that it doesn’t last forever. It ends. You grow and you change and you work through your trauma. If you’re lucky, you get better friends and you go to therapy and do some healing over ten years later by watching tv shows and movies that remind you of every painful feeling. Then you look back and laugh. You laugh at that school dance where Peter said he’d never, ever slow dance with you. You laugh at the school dance less than a year later where you grind provocatively on a dude you don’t know to Get Low by Lil Jon and the Ying Yang Twins. You laugh (hysterically, I might add) at eating that pizza stick off the floor. You laugh at smoking weed for the first time using a plastic water bottle your friend somehow turned into a shitty bong. You laugh at shoplifting your first thong from Ross. You laugh at your self-cut side bangs. You laugh and you laugh and you laugh and then you, finally, move on.

[weloveharrypotter]

Father Figure Pt. 4

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Student! Orphan! Reader

Summary: it’s about a month after Y/n pulled the pranks. Her and Fred have kept in touch and one night she has a nightmare about a night back home at the orphanage. So she hopes to go to Fred in hopes he has time to talk, however, on her way there, a creepy man seems to take a liking to her. (Au where Fred live and it’s current time. Cursed child doesn’t happen.)

Warnings: cussing?, talk of abuse, sexual assault?, creepy old guy, a lil but of blood

Y/n shot up with cold sweat on her forehead. She’d yet again relived another moment from back home through a nightmare.

She sighed before she stood up. She changed from her shorts into her leggings, and kept her sweater on. She pulled on a jacket and put her phone and wand in it.

She slipped her phone on before sneaking her usual way out of the school. She couldn’t stop the tears that streamed her eyes.

She silently cried as she made her way to the train. She got on and took her seat. She looked out the window as she thought.

She was hoping Fred was still there dispite it being almost midnight.

Sometimes Fred or George or both stayed behind late. She was hoping tonight was one of those nights.

These sneak visits to see Fred have become more and more frequent. The two had gotten quite close, and were fond of one another, and enjoyed each other’s company.

Not in that way of course, but in a friend, dare Y/n even say, fatherly way. She never had anyone besides Kat really care before.

Even though Fred and Y/n had gotten close, she hasent opened up about her home life yet. She couldn’t bare the thought of loosing him because she’s just another broken orphan.

She sighed as the train stopped at Diagon Alley. She hopped off the train and immediately had an unpleasant feeling.

She made her way to the shop, but could hear foot steps behind her. That’s when she noticed a male figure following her.

She sped up and so did the guy. She tried to act like she didn’t notice, so the guy wouldn’t get more aggressive.

She unfortunately hadn’t looked at the ground and tripped over something. That’s when the figure rushed over.

She looked up and saw the creepiest looking man alive. Just his face was a red flag enough to get Y/n to run.

The man extended his hand to help her up, but Y/n wasn’t stupid.

“I can get up myself.” Y/n muttered standing.

“Well that’s not polite.” The creep said with a voice that was appropriate for his looks.

“Neither is following someone.” Y/n retorted without thinking.

“I wasn’t following you.” The man denied.

“I’m not a bloody idiot. You were so obvious.” Y/n replied.

“You should learn some respect.” The guy said walking towards her. Y/n backed up against the wall, now trapped between brick, and the creep.

“You need to start thinking about the consequences.” The man said as his hands roamed down he aides to her ass, and squeezed.

Y/n immediately punched him, and she had hit his nose. She heard a crack and blood splat out. The creeps head swung to the side and his hands covered his nose.

Y/n took this opportunity to run. She ran as fast as she could and she could hear him following. She made a few turns and got the shop.

Luckily Fred had just opened the door to leave. That’s when he spotted her and became confused. She ran and ducked under his arm into the store.

She sat and hid behind a display next to the door. She was breathing heavy and looked a little scared, but was clearly trying to regain composure and hide it.

“There’s a creepy guy, if he asks about me I’m not here.” Y/n said.

“Hey! Hey! Weasley!” A voice rang out. Fred look over and sure enough, spotted a really creepy guy came running up.

“May I help you?” Fred asked.

“Have you seen a little brat run around here?” He asked angrily.

“I’m going to need more description.” Fred said. The man rolled his eyes.

“About 15, y/h/l y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes.” The man described.

Y/n stiffened as he described her.

“No I haven’t, why?” Fred asked.

“She’s... my daughter, her and I got into an argument she got agressive and ran.” The man lied horribly.

“Well, unfortunately I haven’t seen her.” Fred lied effortlessly.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Positive.” Fred replied.

The man huffed and walked away. Fred shut the door and Y/n let out a sigh of relief.

“Is he gone?” She asked.

“Almost, stay there.” Fred replied as he took his coat off and threw it down.

“Your good to come back now.” Fred said. Y/n pushed herself off the ground.

“What was that?” Fred asked.

“Another prank gone fight?” Fred asked.

“A creepy dick who was following me, until I fell, than I confronted him about it, than he touched my ass.” Y/n corrected.

“What!?” He asked angrily before he made his way to the door. Y/n walked in front of him and stopped him from moving.

“Stop, it’s alright.” Y/n said.

“How is it alright!? He shouldn’t be allowed to walk freely.” Fred said angrily.

“It’s not the first time it’s happened and it’s not going to be the last. No ones going to do anything about it, it’s just how it is.” Y/n said.

Fred took a deep breath.

“He shouldn’t be allowed to be like that.” He said now back in his calm manner, yet Y/n could tell he was still angry.

“He shouldn’t but... he is.” Y/n said.

There was a moment of silence. It was both comforting yet awkward.

“You said you were on you way here when he did that?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, but, can we take it to your office? I don’t want him to pass by and see me.” Y/n asked.

Fred nodded and the two made their way to Fred’s office. Y/n sat on his desk as he leaned on a bookshelf.

“Now, why’d you come so late?” Fred asked.

“It’s- It’s actually really stupid.” Y/n said.

“Darling you can tell me.” Fred said.

“I-I Uh had essentially a nightmare. I guess I felt guilty waking up Kat so I came here, hoping you were working really late.” Y/n explained.

Fred walked up and cupped either side of her face.

“Darling nightmares are not stupid. Everyone goes through them, and we all get scared. It’s alright to not want to be alone after one.” Fred said comfortingly.

Y/n nodded before he let go.

“You said essentially a dream, what did you mean by that?” Fred asked. As he went to the connecting room to grab something.

“It was a nightmare about... about a memory. Like a moment that actually happened.” Y/n admitted.

“What was it about?” Fred asked as he pulled out two sodas from a mini fridge under his desk.

He walked over and handed her one. They both opened the cans and took a sip, before placing them down.

Y/n sighed nervously. Debating on what to do next. She didn’t want to scare off one of the two people she had, but, she couldn’t hold it inside anymore. Y/n took a deep breath.

“The memory, was when I was about 11, it was back at the orphanage. They... they hit us a lot, and I was used to it by than but, there was this new girl. She’s was only about 6. She was upset so I pulled her into doing a prank with me to cheer her up.” Y/n started.

“We were having a lot of fun but... we got caught. The owner was going to punish her, thinking it was only her. But I couldn’t let her go through what I went through. So I took the blame.” Y/n continued.

“God that night I think I went through the worst pain I think I’ve ever felt. That’s where it ended for that situation, but, that’s not the end.” Y/n stated.

“The girl got hooked on pranks. She was creative and she loved them but, she always got caught. And I always took the blame. She was so happy, and I couldn’t take that away. And at orphanages if you have trauma or have been abused, your worth less, so I couldn’t ruin her chances.” Y/n explained.

“It went on until she was adopted about a year later.” Y/n said taking a deep breath afterwards.

Fred stood up from next to her and pulled her into a hug. Y/n couldn’t hold it together and started to cry.

Fred’s heart broke for the girl who he had in his arms right now.

“Listen to me, alright. You are a strong and brave kid, what you did was so admirable but... just because you’re mistreated doesn’t mean your worth any less.” Fred said holding back tears himself.

He pulled away and cupped either side of her face, and whipped her streaming tears with his thumbs.

“You have to tell someone.” Fred said. Y/n said starting to shake her head.

“I’m sorry but you do. What happened tonight, and what’s happening at that place, can’t go unreported.” Fred said.

“I’ll report what happened tonight but I can’t about the orphanage. I- I can’t, I’m not ready.” Y/n said shaking her head as her voice cracked.

“I can’t let you go back there, you have-.” “I’m not going back. Not till summer.” Y/n said cutting him off.

“But you going back for the summer is a dangerous situation.” Fred replied.

“I’ll be fine I’ve felt with it before-.” “But you don’t need to.” Fred said.

“I don’t want you to go back just to get hurt.” Fred said pulling her into another hug.

“There’s no other option.” Y/n retorted.

“There is, alright. Just... tell me you’ll actually think about telling someone?” Fred asked.

Y/n nodded at the words.

“I’ll think about it.” She replied.

——————

(A/N): Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed. There will be more parts to the series! 😊

[smutty-ki113r]

yes yes i am very sure that Ben loves u ! he snatched my phone out of my hand to look at the picture. I am almost certain he was blushing ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ hehe. he told me to tell u that u r gorgeous <3

I totally get what u said abt having trouble with believing love, red! I also have trouble believing that anybody could love me! Trauma yes u r right ig lmao

ALSO WTF HOW R U SO PRETTY?! MIGHT SNATCH U FROM BEN NGL 😘💕

oh yeah Ben completed the heart like... I wish I could take pictures of him man :< but he did and he was grinning ear to ear.

Oh god I have like a full pdf file with backinfo of my oc's and I need to update it again...(it's been only a month-) so uh sharing all of it would be kinda a lot. so here is a lil info abt my oc's: 8 clownis :> and then we have 3 mythical creatures and 2 robots but i don't count the bots as oc's since they r mostly just gadgets. my clowns r; as I said; based on clowndolls I either bought, made or got gifted. the mythical creatures have powers, 2 of them r based of drawings I made and the third is based of my comfort stuffie :> i'll keep it at that for now

OKOK i defintely think if u tell Ben u have trouble sleeping he will either stay up with u or "help u out" haha.

It went great with toby 🥰 maybe a lil tmi BUT well my crevix felt abused- but I slept like a goddamn baby. I slept 8 hours yay!!!

sorry for answering a lil late...i got my period and felt horrible yesterday. the pain was ok but my dysphoria acted up again -.-

I feel a lot better today :>

-🃏

DID HE SEE ALL THE PICS? I posted more cause people were boosting my ego and BRO it’s so hard to heal from those things. Cause if people actually do want to be with me it’s like do I trust them? IDK for you but for me, people used to lie about being in love with me, so now I am suspicious. Also cause wow, there’s a lot of people out there why would you choose me? Im actually super insecure about myself LOL im trying to work on it!

HE COMPLETED THE HEART????????? DEAR LORD THATS ADORABLE———grinning ear to ear i could cry!! from happiness obviously—————- side note: question; i am not sure how things work over there HAHHAH, but if Ben can see the pics and the fics are like my anon messages (like this one) there too?? Like can he for example read this? Just completely random cause i literally have no clue how it works over there-. ALSO since your’e with Toby lucky bitch i could strangle you, with love cause i love you so much does he ever talk about masky? 🤨 Cause I remember you tellin me he’s quite reserved. Hmmm. LOL IM SO INVESTED IN THIS SHSH

Thats so impressive, you literally have clown oc’s from the dolls you make. 😮 Thats a different level of dedication. AND YOU DRAW//?? Imagine the talent. What kinds of powers do your mythical creatures have??? I LOVE IT!!! I dont have oc’s per say, i just have like a book im writing, but that’s different i think?? Cause i get so attached and like one of my protagonists i fucking- i cant even describe. But I wrote an entire piece on that. LOL LMK IF YOUD LIKE TO READ IT

If I ever got in an intimate situation with ben I would get so so sososososos insecure. Like im such a simp ofc yes, and AGH SEX but also like,,,HAHAHHAJHA I HAVE SO MANY CONCERNS WITH MY BODY- regardless. I am so fucking PROUD OF YOU! Look at you- getting good dick sleep. NEVER TMI ON THIS BLOG 😌

Bro, we are literally SYNCING UPPPPPPP, I got my PERIOD LIKE TWO DAYS AGO AGHHHH. But ive been having dysphoria too, and i completely understand. Remember that you are valid, and you are in fact NOT A GIRL, and you never have been, and you never will be. Its literally scientifically proven that non cis people’s brain are literally different- you will always be just a person in my eyes. Gender is shit, fuck gender, it’s literally made up.

I LOVE YOU!!! I wish i could crawl over the screen like ben or smtg and give u a hug.

[crispin-kreme]

how to mend a broken heart ; kim sunoo

part 5/7 of the series

synopsis: every one is born with a heart that glows and it is visible amongst themselves. kim sunoo has the brightest heart and so do you. but a conflict arises between sunoo's life, making the heart lose its glow. gradually, sunoo has become numb to pain once his heart lost his glow. will you be able to ignite his heart again or lose him forever?

genre: angst, slight fluff, best friends to lovers au

pairings: student! kim sunoo x gn! reader

warnings: grammatical errors, car accident, and blood

notes: look who finally updated- im gonna finish this series in a bit because it just hit me that my classes are nearing (im starting on july 21 ew) so yea yall get the gist. sorry for not updating in a long time but anyways- enjoy! also thanks to @atsuwiee for helping out with the plot! <3

sunoo was probably born with the brightest heart amongst his classmates. he kept the brightest smile and he lets out the brightest laughter. being friends with him was easy. considering you both grew up in the same neighborhood and you both study in the same school.

he was a social butterfly and you were absolutely the quite opposite but you still managed to get yourself a small group of friends. your heart grew in an average level. you were happy and at times you were sad. unlike sunoo, you bet that his heart grows brighter than yours.

with sunoo’s bright outbursts of energy, you can’t help yourself fall in love with him. the way he smiles and his eyes quickly resembles a fox, the way he laughs at your lame jokes, and the way he talks gracefully about his day. oh you were a hopeless romantic over him. on the other hand, sunoo loved you from afar as well. he simply admires every thing about you. he loves you as well.

“y/n! how was your day?” sunoo says as he walks beside you “its okay.” you simply replied. both of you were exiting the school gates, school has finally ended for this day. both of you then just decided to take a quick stroll around town. “okay? what do you mean by ‘okay’?” he asks. “sunoo, i don’t have to explain that. its alright. my day went well.” you said with a soft smile placed onto your lips. sunoo smiled “good then!” he replied.

you looked at sunoo and asked “how about you? how was your day?” sunoo shrugged “boring as usual.” he rolls his eyes “why did the teacher even separate us into two different classes?! we were always in the same class, right? it’s so boring without you.” sunoo ranted and frowned “we literally live in the same neighborhood. you can come to my house anytime.” you pointed out. sunoo’s mouth became agape “...right.” he says.

sunoo quickly checked his phone and suddenly gasped “oh no- i was supposed to go to my groupmates’ house today!” he exclaimes. “eh- what for?” you asked “for a project. don’t worry, i think their house isn’t far from here.” sunoo explained. “okay- i’ll take a detour now. take care, y/n! call me when you get home.” he tells you before running away in a rush for a school work.

you sighed as you were left alone on the sidewalk. “gosh- i’m hungry...” you mumbled to yourself. the sun was almost down but that didn’t stop you from going to a convinience store and grabbing a snack as dark came.

as you arrived home, you threw yourself on your bed. it was about 7 in the evening already. you were still alone and your parents weren’t home yet so you decided to call sunoo since you arrived home.

he didn’t pick up. it was only a voicemail.

again and again and again. sunoo didn’t pick up.

you sighed as you faced your ceiling “maybe he’s tired...” you muttered under your breath. you did your night routine before you could even go to bed. you see your heart beating- still glowing so you didn’t really have a problem with anything.

all you didn’t know, as you fall asleep. sunoo is slowly being rushed to the hospital. with his blood stained face and an unbearable pain on his head, its no surprise that he might not even get through this night due to the accident.

the glow of sunoo’s heart started to dim.

hours into your sleep, someone calls you. you stirred in your sleep as you grabbed your phone under your pillow. you just assumed it was sunoo since he’s the only person who can call you at this ungodly hour. you picked up only to hear a woman crying over the phone. you immediately jolted up as you recognized the voice.

“mrs. kim?” you responded to sunoo’s mother. “y/n? i’m so sorry to call you this late.” his mother says apologetically “its alright.” you politely replied. “its alright. what’s wrong, mrs. kim?” you asked in curiousity and concern “well... its about sunoo.” his mother stated.

the news made you feel uneasy. you felt your world stop.

its been a week since the accident. sunoo wasn’t coming to school nor sunoo was contacting you. when you tried to visit sunoo, he forbid you to do so. his texts became shorter and blunt as well as his attitude. you checked the glow of your heart and it was still glowing at a normal rate. you wonder how sunoo’s heart is glowing right now.

sunoo’s heart completely lost its glow. sad to say, his condition made him numb to any pain. he wanted to be isolated. after that car accident, it was discovered that sunoo has turned deaf due to the severe head trauma he experienced during the accident. ever since he got discharged, he never showed up to school and contacts you at a seldom rate.

truly, he wanted to be isolated because of his condition. he feared that you will never love him back because he is now completely deaf. he could still talk but he still needs to learn some sign languages at the moment.

you didn’t hesitate to storm into his house (with the notice of his parents of course. you let them know that you were going to visit him). you made your way quickly into his house and in front of his bedroom. you knocked aggresively. you were a bit furious on why he didn’t want you to visit him thus, you being aggresive.

“open the door, fucker!” you raised your voice. sunoo was curled up in bed, not knowing you were there in front of his door. “i’m coming in you ‘lil shit.” you announced as you barged in his door. you saw sunoo curled up in bed, not noticing your presence. you closed the door and stood in front of him.

sunoo suddenly jolted up upon seeing your presence “y-y/n!” he stutters. sunoo needed to explain faster so that you could communicate with him. “before you talk. i have something to say.” he says. you sit down beside him on his bed. sunoo fixes his posture and looks at you straight in the eye.

“i- y/n, i-i’m deaf.” sunoo said. your eyes widened. “...so please. just type your response in the notes. i couldn’t hear you. i’m so sorry.” he explained, as he tries to regulate his voice. you were still in shock so you nodded and grabbed your phone. you typed in your response.

so this is why you’ve been avoiding me ever since the accident?

sunoo read your response and nodded in reply.

why? you thought that i would dislike you for it?

“yes...” he replied with his head low. “i-i really thought of that.” he added. still, you could see how sunoo was a bit blunt. but sunoo’s heart started to glow little by little, he could feel some warmth.

you listened to him carefully. sunoo’s tears started to form and fall down. “i- i love you, y/n! when i knew i lost my hearing, i feared that you’ll never feel the same way for me.” he explained. sunoo’s heart started glowing brightly again.

“its ridiculous to love someone who can’t hear, right?” he asked rhetorically as he wiped his tears. you couldn’t help but tear up too now that he confessed to you. you brought his face up to your sight and cupped his face.

sunoo reads your lips.

‘i love you too.’ is what you said and sooner later you had to type it in. but sunoo understood you.

“how-“ sunoo gets cut off as you kissed his lips. he wiped your tears “stop crying...” sunoo says as he tried to smile. “i love you so much.” he adds.

your heart glowed brightly like the sun so as sunoo’s. he feels your warmth again, he feels happy.

finally, even without hearing your voice, his broken heart is now mended.

would you like to proceed?

yes/go back

[artificiallyimplantedmemories]

[ ooc: ep 4 liveblog & opinions under the cut! this one got long winded because I had a lot that I was thinking about (and it took me twice the length of the episode to actually watch through it because I kept pausing to type oops) ]

yeeeesh that’s one way to start. thank you for letting bucky cry.

but also the look of pride on her face when she says “you are free” they’ve been working so hard and she’s so happy with the progress bucky has made ;_;

and now she’s so betrayed :(

but I’m also so glad Bucky learned xhosa that’s super important! <3 part of decolonization of the past involves respecting and learning and propagating languages and cultures that have been trodden over. Wakanda has been something of a safe place in that regard, and are now doing the outreach to help their continent and the world, but it takes the world of people within the majority putting in the effort and learning and embracing those cultures and languages (without appropriation, which I know is a fine line to walk sometimes) in order to really make progress. once it is no longer alien, it is also no longer scary, and can be held in proper esteem.

“sweet of you” shut your mouth Zemo xD

“she’s just a kid” thank you for your compassion Sam. and while she’s an extremist, I’m not sure whether Karli counts as a supremacist or just a terrorist? maybe she counts as genocidal if she’s truly trying to restore things to Blip conditions but it’s kind of unclear.

“the serum never corrupted Steve” “touché” YO EVEN HE ADMITS IT

Sam’s understanding of cultural habits (and there are many overlaps between various cultures and the ways they mourn) is such an asset here, and I’m glad that they’re pulling a contrast between the tech-driven, cold, calculating predictions made by certain people and organizations in other parts of Marvel and the general sort of soulful and instinctive approach here

Turkish delight. Excuse me but Narnia cemented the idea in so many people’s heads that it is this magical thing but it’s like superglue in your mouth. It is not irresistible, Zemo.

Legislation and social change as a result of violent action is nothing new. Every peaceful protest has been backed up by some kind of harm, whether it be economic, like a boycott, or physical, either damage to property or lives. I think instinctively people understand this, but it’s good to see it put in the spotlight.

Sam is “stranger danger” to these kids :/

“I know what happens when people say they’re going to help out... nothing.” Ouch.

The way Sam’s gaze falls at that too, because he knows theoretically that a lot of these injustices are happening and can empathize, but practically hearing it hurts. He doesn’t like not being trusted either, but I think he can probably understand why.

Zemo playing that psychology game! Kids love food and the idea that he must be a good person just for having a kid is dumb as hell but something that kids would gravitate towards. Smart man. Doubly smart for not telling them, Nat would approve if she didn’t hate him :P

Sam de-escalating is gonna be a trend I can just see it.

Cherry blossom tea? Interesting choice.

SHARON HI 

Nat vc: gosh it’s nice to see someone competent around here. 

ooooh they’re really reinforcing the idea of Captain America being a figurehead that inspires people

“heroes these days don’t have the luxury of keeping their hands clean” yeah well it’s because Steve had people like Bucky and Nat do do his dirty work, but sure

“all the people history just left out” OW

okay first of all Sam being the one who is insisting on reasoning with them because he knows what it’s like to come from an oppressed people !!! he knows grief and trauma !!! he can do this !!!!! I just know Walker is gonna fuck it up for them :P

second, Walker trying to emotionally manipulate Bucky? it’s a testament to how far he’s come that he doesn’t punch the guy immediately lol

Hoskins being the voice of reason as a foil for Walker again what?! this version of Lamar isn’t nearly as terrible as I expected.

Zemo calling that itty bitty girl his associate xD He really does understand the people here though... aaaand he’s getting handcuffed. Totally didn’t see that coming (he’ll probably break free anyway)

The conversation between Karli & Sam ;_; 

“you’re either brilliant or hopelessly optimistic” “por quo no los dos.gif”

Walker trying to guilt Bucky again god he’s so dumb. I appreciate the fact that he’s ruthless but he’s so narrow minded in how he approaches problems. oh no I have an issue let’s punch it until it dies! come on man.

Karli is so heartbreakingly naive and that’s becoming more and more obvious. I love Sam opening her up like this wow.

WALKER FUCKING IT UP AS ALWAYS

and the cuffs empty WHAT DID I TELL YOU

god we were getting somewhere ;____;

oh good just what we need, serum in Walker’s hands. he was already awful he doesn’t need to be more awful gdi

“we separate them and then we kill Captain America” ...yes, we’re listening xD

I know crazy because I am crazy... oh boy we got some internalized stuff, but let’s play it off

still a little blame game going in terms of where the shield ended up I see

THE DORA MILAJE ARE HERE -swoon-

pOINTY STICKS I cackled oh boy he gonna get his ass WHOOPED

Sam is enjoying the hell out of this

Zemo watching and drinking

“Looking strong, John!” “Bucky”

oooh dear they tangling and Zemo’s getting away.

your arm’s off! no it’s not

WAIT WHAT DID AYO SAY BEFORE SHE SAID JAMES

they all got their asses kicked ah well. also the look on Walker’s face says he gonna serum himself up, the lil fucker. oh no someone’s better than you how will your ego ever survive.

a lil Battlestar logo!!! shut up that’s cute. they’re really making him halfway likeable here.

“power just makes a person more of themselves”

ohhhh okay time to unlock Walker’s traumatic backstory. at least he feels bad about the things he did. at least he knows that those medals of honor are covered in blood. people are at least partly made by their circumstances, and I wonder what he was like before the war. the only indication we have of it is him being a football star, and while I may not have had the best track record with those in my youth, that doesn’t mean there aren’t decent ones out there...

Sarah’s “my world doesn’t matter to America, so why should I care about its mascot?” Oh, we’re speaking to the disenfranchisement of marginalized people hardcore today okay. if anyone’s gotten this far in my overly long commentary I want you to know that this is the realest alright? it’s hard to be proud of a country and its symbols when it doesn’t do right by you, when the majority doesn’t do right by you. am I glad I was born here? sure. are there worse places to be? sure. am I proud to be an american? oof, man, don’t ask me that.

Karli is not pulling her punches, she’s threatening the whole fam. Sam isn’t gonna like that... He sounds like he’s trying to suppress panic instead of being angry on the phone call with Sarah. I think he understands what Karli is trying to do, even though he hates how. And he’s worried, because he’s always gonna be worried. Poor guy. And there’s the confrontation.

Sharon got their backs!

Oof, seeing the gun with the shield.

Gunshot, run, oh, listening, he’s already got the serum, maybe? Given how deeply that shield is embedded in the wall I’m gonna say yes. YUP I WAS RIGHT.

Something about the water dripping and Lemar’s face makes me think he may have been waterboarded at some point :( but maybe he’s just in a lot of pain.

THE KNIFE CATCH. YES YES YES. THE KNIFE FLIP. Nat is so hearteyes.

Ooh, we gotta upgrade that wingpack with Stark repulsors pls go Sam go

oh no. Lemar. fuck. FUCK.

oh good now you’ve done it. killing a guy as Captain America. fuck.

the blood on the shield as the last shot! ~cinematography~

hoooo I’m chilled. I knew something along these lines was coming but oof. 

[thatboleyn-girl]

Hold me as tight as you can and never let go.

TW - ALMOST suicide attempt, mentions of self harm/suicide, Derogatory name calling. 

Just a lil bit of Parrlyn angst and fluff by yours truly. I haven’t written in forever so I apologise in advance for this but, enjoy!

Word Count: 1441 words (ooft)

~

It was late on a Saturday, after a long night with the Queens, when Catherine Parr got a message from Kitty. 

Kitkat: Meet me in the kitchen. NOW.

Parr groaned and tried her best not to disturb her girlfriend, Anne, who was cuddled up next to her. She tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs to find Kitty standing with her arms crossed, looking more angry than Parr has ever seen the pink-haired girl. 

“Have you seen it?!” Kitty asked, her voice laced with worry.  

“Seen what?” Parr answered, growing more concerned. Kitty unlocked her phone and showed her a video of two jocks from their school, one that Cathy used to be friends with, mocking Anne and her past. Catherine was confused, none of the Queens have ever told anyone, apart from each other, about their past lives, so how could these two possibly know? 

Cathy sighed and handed the phone back to Kitty, “This is so weird of Josh, he’s never one to do something like this. I’ll send him a message, telling him to take it down, he has to? Right?!”

“I don't know, Cath. He’s changed a lot since you guys were friends. How do you think they found out?!” The pink-haired girl asked, trying to keep her voice down to prevent waking the others. 

“I have no idea?! Maybe they overheard a conversation?! We were talking about it earlier this week at lunch, they may have just heard that? And yeah people change, but no one can change that much, right?” Both Catherine and Kitty were surprised when they heard Anne’s voice, “Heard what?” “Hey gorgeous,” Cathy said in a soft voice, “How long have you been standing there?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Anne said, ignoring her girlfriend’s question. 

“Nothing, hon. Go back upstairs, I’ll be back to bed in a second,” Catherine said softly, walking over to give her girlfriend a kiss on the forehead, but Anne wasn’t having it. She ignored Catherine again and walked over to Kat. 

“What’s that video?” Anne asked.

“I don’t think you wanna see it, Annie.”

“Just show me, Kitty,” Anne bit back. Catherine was now shaking as Anne watched the video. Her facial expression changing at least 4 times. 

There was a long, uncomfortable silence after the video finished, “So you lied,” Anne said at Catherine. “Lied? What’d I lie about?” She said as she walked towards Anne. 

“You promised Catherine,” Anne said, her voice getting louder, “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone! How could you do this to me?!” Anne was yelling now, she was fuming and Catherine didn’t know how to react. 

“What’d I do? You know I haven’t spoken to Josh in years, Annie,” She began but was quickly cut off. “Don’t call me that,” Anne said quietly. 

“Anne, you know I wouldn’t do that to you, I don’t know how they found out and I am so incredibly sorry they did, can I make it up to you?” “How? How could I possibly believe you? You know I find it difficult to trust people and you go and do this!? I can’t believe you,” Anne yelled, so loud that she woke the rest of the house up, the other girls coming down the stairs. 

“I didn’t do anything, Anne. You’re acting like a child, I would never do that to you, I love you so much, you know I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

“Whatever,” Anne mumbled before grabbing her coat and storming out the door. Catherine burst into tears and sunk to the floor, the girls immediately rushing over to hug her. 

“She hates me, she hates me, I didn’t even do anything, I promised her I’d never hurt her and now I have,” Catherine said in between sobs, the girls hugging her tighter, “I should go after her.”

“Maybe give her some time, love,” Jane said, “She needs some space and she could say stuff she doesn’t mean and hurt you hon, give it a little bit.”

“You don’t know Anne like I do. When she gets like this I get so scared she’ll…” Cathy hesitated. 

“She’ll what?” Anna asked. 

“Hurt herself,” Cathy said in a small voice, “That’s what they were saying in the video, they were blaming her trauma and abuse on her and saying it’s her fault for being a slut and she still believes that, how could I be so stupid for someone else to find out!”

“Honey, don’t beat yourself up over this, it is not your fault. You don’t know how they could’ve possibly found out, do you maybe wanna have a snack? Watch a film with me and Kitty? And the others if they’re up for it? If she’s not back by then we can go looking for her, how does that sound?” Jane said in a soft voice. She was as worried as Catherine, but she wanted to keep calm as she didn’t want to frighten the girl. Catherine nodded her head, wiping away her tears.

An hour or so passed and there was still no sign of Anne, Jane, Kitty and Cathy had all tried to call her but they all went straight to voicemail. Catherine had decided she’d had enough of this waiting game and, much to the dismay of Jane, went out to find Anne. 

“Where could she possibly be?” Catherine said to herself softly as she went to all of her and Anne’s favourite places. She wasn’t in the library, not at her parents house, not on campus at school. Catherine had almost given up hope when she remembered the one place Anne loved the most. There was this nature trail that the couple walked often on the weekends before their lives got too busy with finishing their final year of school. Anne would always sit on the edge of the bridge where you could see the calming water pass along the stream, and all of the creatures that lived inside. She wasted no time and started running to get there as soon as she could. Before it was too late.

When she arrived she saw a silhouette of a girl, looking extremely similar to her brown-haired girlfriend, “Anne?!” She called out… no response. She tried again, but got the same reaction. She ran up to the bridge when she saw Anne stand up and walk closer to the edge. 

Luckily, Catherine got there just in time to push Anne over, onto the bridge, before she fell off the edge, “What the hell were you thinking Annie,” Catherine began, bringing her now crying girlfriend into her arms, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, sweetheart.”

“That was the point,” Anne said quietly, hugging Catherine closer, regretting everything she had said and done leading up to this moment. 

“Annie, I’m begging you, please don’t ever do this again, I can’t bare to see you like this. I thought you were dead, we all did.”

“I didn’t think you cared anymore. I’m so sorry Cathy I don’t know why I didn’t believe you.”

“Of course I care, Bo-bo. You’re safe now, okay? I’ve got you and I’m not going to let anything happen to you, alright? I love you, so much, you know that don’t you? I will bash those douchebags skulls in for making you feel like this, I just feel so awful.”

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” Anne said softly before placing a soft kiss to Cathy’s lips, “I love you too, I’m sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. Let’s go back to the dorm, the others are worried sick.”

Anne and Catherine took their time walking home. No words were exchanged the entire time, but both girls could feel the love in the air. Once they arrived home, Jane and Kitty immediately wrapped Anne in a massive hug, bought blankets and hot chocolates and the four of them sat and talked for a while, while Aragon and Cleaves were upstairs sleeping. 

After a few hours, the four all went off to bed. Once Cathy and Anne got into bed, Anne burst into tears again. 

“Annie? What’s wrong?” Catherine asked, wrapping Anne in a tighter embrace. “Stay. Please. Just hold me as tight as you can and never let go,” Anne said softly. 

Catherine moved so Anne’s head was resting on her chest and she could hear her heartbeat, “Hear that? I’m alive and I am right here, okay? You are going to be okay and everything will be fine, I promise. I am not going anywhere, anytime soon.”

“What’d I do to deserve you, Catherine Parr.”

“Existing is more than enough, Anne Boleyn.”