#and i'm going to make that everyone else's problem

[bookwyrm314]

"don't wanna vaccine, don't get one" is a dangerous way to frame this, because they are not very big on personally responsibility and make it everyone else's problem.

Sure, you could opt out of vaccination. But you also then have to opt out of public and private education, have to work from home, etc.

And when it is their kids, it is flat out medical neglect.

So I'm a big fan of "don't do things you don't wanna do" in terms of, like, who you date and what kind of jobs you do.. you can't opt out of society without fucking off to the woods, which they clearly are not actually about.

Being a member of society means your parents and teachers teaching you to wash your hands after you go the the bathroom, after you come home from being outside, etc. Being a member of society means not going to school/work when you're sick, and wearing a mask when you have to leave your room so you do your part to protect others from your illness. Being a member of society means getting vaccinated against illnesses*.

*And, yes, some people have allergy or immune reactions that prevent them from getting vaccinated, which means it is all the more important for literally everyone else to get theirs done on time. "I'm afraid of needles" and "I'm an idiot" are not really medical reasons to avoid your shots.

Conservatives live in a repressed, fearful world. They don't stand up for others. They long to control others.

The lack of empathy and near zero emotional intelligence create the perfect storm of sadism.

[marvelouslymarly]

So I saw something that said you’re taking requests? If that is true, can I request a Bob Reynolds x reader where reader is perpetually cold and uses Bob as a heater?

Warmth [Bob Reynolds x female!reader]

“Hold me in this wild, wild world - ‘cause in your warmth I forgot how cold it can be”

Pairing: Bob Reynolds/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry x fem thunderbolts!reader

Requested: Yes✨️ (requests are open!!)

CW: none, it's just fluff!! (well, maybe some awkward!Bob but idk if that needs a warning)

Masterlist

Word count: ~5k

[A/N: [y/nn] = your nickname]

[A/N #2: I'm sorry it took me so long to write this one! Uni's been quite stressful lately, and apparently, it's much harder for me to write when it's for someone else🥲 but I loved the challenge, so I'm looking forward to getting more requests!!! Hope you enjoy😊]

This is not beta-read oopsieee

Ever since you moved into the Watchtower, you’d been freezing perpetually. This wasn’t something that was new to you. Not entirely. The heating at your old place had always been set to a cosy 71°F because, even in a thick hoodie and fuzzy socks, you were used to constantly having cold hands and feet. In school, people used to make fun of you for wearing sweatshirts well into June when most of them had long put away their long-sleeved clothes. Now, in the Watchtower, you were lucky if someone turned the thermostat up to 65°F. John and Bucky - but especially John - would go on about how they couldn’t handle it if the apartment got too warm, arguing that they tend to run hot because of the serum. But Bob and Alexei never seemed to be too opposed to leaving the thermostat set to a temperature that didn’t have the rest of you feeling like you were living in a cold store.

“Why can’t you girls just put on a hoodie if you’re cold?”John moaned and turned on the AC before sitting down in his usual armchair, sweat stains on his shirt from his morning jog.

“Because having the AC on full blast is bad for the environment. Just get over yourself,” Ava tried to reason, getting up from the couch and turning down the AC again.

“It’s four supersoldiers living here. And three women. That’s clearly a majority. If you’re cold, you should put on some warmer clothes,” John retorted, joining Ava at the thermostat once more.

“John, you cannot play the ‘I am a supersoldier’ card every time you’re losing an argument,” Yelena rebutted, her Eastern European accent thick, and rolled her eyes. “Bob and Alexei don’t seem to have a problem with setting the AC to a temperature everyone feels comfortable with.”

“Alexei basically loves to sit around in his robe and tighty whities and Bob’s probably just too much of a wuss to say anything,” John snapped and looked at Bob who had been really quiet this whole conversation. Hearing his name caught Bob’s attention, having him look around the room, trying to figure out what he’d done.

“Hey, there’s no need to get personal, Walker,” you interfered, looking up from your book. You met Bob’s eyes and sent him a soft smile. He relaxed a little, his shoulders dropping back to their usual level. You stretched out your leg and poked his side with your foot, getting a small smile from him in return.

“I’m not the one who’s making this personal, Yel-"

Walker quickly shut up when he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway and turned to see Bucky walk into the living room, an annoyed expression on his face.

“Okay, what’s going on here, and who started it?”

“Walker!” The four of you said in unison, and Bucky sighed loudly, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his right hand.

Walker looked around the room, an exasperated look on his face, and his finger pointed at his own chest.

“How is this my fault? Besides, Bob, are you fucking kidding me? You can’t speak up for yourself but then you’re ready to throw me under the bus the second you get a chance?” There was an angry sneer on John’s face and when your gaze fell on Bob once more, you realised that he’d shrunken into the couch cushions, seeming considerably tinier than he actually was.

“Sorry, Walker, but I’m on the girls’ side on this one.”

“Of course you are,” John muttered, rolling his eyes again and turning to walk to his room, when Bucky’s arm landed across his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky asked, his voice filled with frustration.

After the discussion that ensued, you’d all agreed to keep the temperature of the common rooms to a more agreeable 69°F, still very much to John’s displeasure. Eventually, everyone seemed to get used to the temperature in the shared living spaces. Well, that was everyone but you. You blamed it on bad circulation and an iron deficiency that you couldn’t quite seem to shake completely. So, you put on a sweater and some fluffy socks most times you left your bedroom and tried to tell you that it was ok - that, maybe, you just took longer to get used to the temperature shift between your bedroom and the living room or kitchen.

But then there was that one day where the AC malfunctioned, and none of you could figure out a way to shut it off. God, that was probably John’s favourite day of the year because he finally got what he wanted all this time. After desperately trying to stay warm in your room, you gave up and figured that maybe you’d be warmer in the living room with the afternoon sun streaming in. Yelena and Ava were sitting in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, trying to warm themselves in the sun, quietly bickering about John who was lounging on the couch, wearing a tank top and shorts, his bare feet on the coffee table. He had a smug smile on his lips when he saw you come into the living room, wearing a thick cardigan over your oversized hoodie and sweat pants. You’d shoved your feet into the warmest pair of slippers that still fit over the thickest socks you had, but yet, you still felt cold.

“Where are you going? The Arctic?" John laughed, sitting up straighter to get a better look at your outfit while you walked around the back of the couch, looking for a cosy spot to read. You didn’t reply, just sent him an annoyed glare and then pulled your cardigan tighter around your frame.

“Guess it’s not just the temperature that’s freezing in here,” he muttered under his breath and slumped back down in his seat.

“You know, you can just shut up. You get that, right?” Ava countered and closed her eyes against the sun, leaning back onto her elbows.

"What did I say now?” His arms were stretched over his head, completely oblivious that his joke from before wasn’t funny at all.

“John Walker, if a woman tells you to be quiet, you should really be quiet,” Alexei told him, shaking a raised index finger into John’s direction and looking at John over the edge of his newspaper, his head cocked forward.

John didn’t say much after that anymore, just mumbled a few words into his beard. It got quiet again in the living room, everyone going back to what they were doing before you entered the living room. But you couldn’t concentrate on your book, annoyed by the way your cold toes touched each other inside your socks and how there was a constant flow of cold air coming from the exposed vents hanging from the high ceiling. Even the throw blanket you’d grabbed from the edge of the couch a few minutes after sitting down in the bean bag by the window didn’t seem to keep you warm enough. You put the bookmark between the pages of your book and then set it aside on the floor before pulling the blanket up under your chin, shivering slightly.

“God, it’s so cold,” you muttered, rubbing your arms under the blanket and trying to generate some heat. “Did Bucky say anything about when they’ll come around and fix the AC?” you asked, looking at Yelena and Ava.

They shook their heads, Yelena telling you that Bucky had tried to get some people down here but didn’t have any luck. With her face turned to the window, she look like a cat basking in the sun.

“Apparently they’re all too busy with installing ACs all over New York,” Ava added and shrugged her shoulders, a sorry expression on her face.

“Hey, [y/nn], if you want, you can come and sit with me. I give great dad hug! Yelena can confirm. Right, Lenochka?” Alexei opened his arms invitingly and let his eyes wander between you and Yelena, whose face pulled an embarrassed grimace.

“Dad, please don’t take this the wrong way. But I don’t think [y/n] wants a dad hug from you, right now.”

“That’s really nice of you, Alexei,” you thanked him, sending him a kind smile.

He nodded, his shoulders slumping a little, but his bright grin didn’t falter. “Always! You are family now!”

It was then that Bob and Bucky walked into the living room, carrying seven cups of hot cocoa, whipped cream in a can, a packet of mini marshmallows, and some cookies between the two. They set the mugs down on the coffee table and told us to get together.

“OK, Bob and I have made the executive decision that we’re gonna drink some hot cocoa and have ourselves a lil movie night.”

“Bucky, it’s 4 in the afternoon,” John noted, looking at his wristwatch, and Bucky sent him a glare.

“If you don’t wanna join us, then suit yourself, Walker. I bet Valentina still has some paperwork you can take care of, if you really wanna work,” Bucky schooled him, sitting down in his usual spot on the couch.

“No, no. It’s fine! Movie time it is.”

The team all cosied up on the couch, leaving a spot between Bob and Yelena for you. You plopped down, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs, hoping you’d stay warmer this way.

“Want some blanket [y/n]?” Bob offered and lifted the blanket he’d put over his legs a second before. You reached over to him, your fingers brushing against his as you pulled on the fabric a little. His fingers were warm, toasty even, and your eyes went up to meet his gaze.

“How are you not freezing?” you asked him, your fingers staying wrapped around his for a moment, hoping to coax some of his warmth.

“Well, I kinda run hot…” His voice wobbled a little, and he gulped, his cheeks turning pink. Bob averted his gaze, his eyes moving down to your hand slowly slipping into his, but you could still see him bite his lip nervously.

“Wish that was me right now, to be honest,” you mumbled and put his hand on your cheek, leaning into his palm. “I feel like I might actually turn into a fucking ice cube every second now.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s a perk in situations like these…” His thumb swiped over your cheek instinctively, a soft smile on his face, and then his eyes sparkled a little, going wide. “You could… come a little closer. Maybe I can help you warm up?” Bob motioned his head for you to move on over and put his arm out for you.

You didn’t have to be told twice, quickly scooching over to him and putting your head on his shoulder. The second his arm wrapped around your back, it felt like a warm and cosy blanket being placed around you, the citrusy-yet-earthy scent of his cologne enveloping your senses. You got a little more comfortable, putting your feet between his crossed legs. Bob’s hand dropped to your knees, rubbing up and down your shins, the friction creating a soothing warmth on your skin.

“Wait, I wanna cuddle, too,” Yelena exclaimed, scooching over, too, and throwing her arms around the two of you. Her head came to rest against your back, and she hummed as her fingertips drew lazy patterns on your knees.

You stayed like that for a while, Yelena eventually lying down in the space that you’d left vacant by moving to basically sit in Bob’s lap and falling asleep, soft snores rumbling behind you every now and then. At some point, your knees had fallen against Bob’s chest, and you’d cuddled up closer to him, his cheek resting against your temple.

“Are you getting warmer?” He asked, looking at you from the corner of his eyes, and you nodded, the comforting warmth of his embrace slowly lulling you to sleep as well. His hand moved from its resting place on your ankles to your cheek, and he ran his thumb over it again.

“If you wanna nap, I’ll keep you safe from turning into a popsicle, ok?” There was a certain easy playfulness to his voice that made your heart skip a beat.

You nodded drowsily and burrowed your face in his neck, closing your eyes against the flickering lights emanating from the TV. With the hot cocoa warming you from the inside and Bob’s arms wrapped around your frame, it didn’t take long for you to get swept off to dreamland.

Bob’s voice woke you up a little later, his breath hot against your ear: “Hey, we’re ordering take out, you want something?” His thumb was caressing your cheek again, and your eyes fluttered open, trying to blink away sleep. “What are you getting?”, you mumbled groggily and wiped at your eyes, slowly pulling away from him.

“Chinese. We’ve already gotten mini spring rolls and wontons but we weren’t sure what you’d wanna eat,” Bucky told you, looking at you from behind Bob. He smiled at you and then handed you his phone. “Get yourself something nice, Val’s paying.” Bucky sent you a wink and then leant back against the couch, his eyes back on the TV.

~~~

You were tossing and turning in your bed, the covers pulled up under your chin in a futile attempt to stay warm. The cold had crept into your very bones, and nothing seemed to help anymore. You’d tried tea and more hot chocolate and even made a cup of hot milk with honey, hoping that it’d warm you up enough to fall asleep. But it had been almost an hour of tossing, and you were getting fed up with each tick-tock of the clock hanging over your bedroom door.

You turned on your phone and looked at the lockscreen, a too bright 1:47 am glaring back at you. You sighed and locked your phone again, turning onto your side and pulling your legs to your chest. Images of earlier that day ran through your mind like a film through a projector, the only thing missing being the rattling noise of the cooling fans and the motor. Memories of Bob’s arm slung around your shoulder, his hand rubbing up and down your upper arm. His blue eyes flashing over to you every now and again as if checking to see you’re still you and haven’t turned into a human icicle. His other hand was drawing loose patterns on the bare skin from where your joggers had ridden up above the thick socks. You hadn’t even noticed at first. It felt too natural for him to hold you like that. Especially after having yearned to feel his hands on your body in any way for so long.

His touch had sent tiny sparks through you, like bursts of electrical currents, and with them came a pleasant warmth. A warmth that made your insides heat up in a way that the hot chocolate couldn’t. You ached to feel this warmth again. To feel the childlike excitement that ran through your veins while being in his arms. To have his delectable scent cloud your senses with every inhale.

You longed for his warmth so much that you hadn’t noticed yourself get up out of bed. You only realised when the cold of the door handle crept up through your fingers. You pushed the handle down, trying to be as quiet as possible, knowing that your door tended to creak when opened too quickly. Not that any of your other team members should’ve been awake at this hour, but still, you wanted to ensure that no one knew about your night-time stroll. Deep down, you were scared that Bob would open the door. That he’d be awake to find you standing at this doorstep, shivering from the low temperatures in the Tower.

Once you reached Bob’s bedroom door on the other side of the apartment, you let your hand hover for a second, your blood rushing in your ears and your heart skipping a beat or two. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on his door as softly as possible, barely making any noise. You could hear faint shuffling from the other side of the door, the groan of the bedframe under Bob’s body. You waited, quietly counting in your head. Then there were footsteps but they stopped again. You imagined Bob standing on the other side of the door, unsure if he’d imagined the rapping at this door. You inhaled, held your breath for a second, exhaled. Then again. The tips of your fingers rested against the cool wood, tingling. You wanted to knock another time, but your brain didn’t seem able to send the signal to lift your hand and knock again.

Just as you found yourself turning towards the door, the door handle moved downwards. The door opened a smidge, and your eyes travelled upwards, slowly, like those of a scared animal. Blocking the warm glow of the lamp on his bedside table, Bob’s eyes met yours, and then his eyebrows hitched up, just for a split second before a smile took over his features.

“[y/n]?” His voice was barely above a whisper, hoping to protect the serene tranquillity of night. He opened the door a little wider and you realised that he was only wearing a pair of boxers. They sat low on his hips, and there was the tiniest trail of hair running down from underneath his belly button and disappearing into his underwear. You shook your head, trying to peel your gaze from his hips and remember why you’d come here. “Are you ok?”

You nodded, your hand brushing away a strand that had fallen into your face. You tried to come up with an appropriate explanation, one other than ‘hey, I’m cold, can we have a cuddle?’ but you found yourself at a momentary loss of words.

“Oh no, I think you’ve turned into a popsicle, after all.” His words were followed by a soft chuckle, and your eyes went to the floor. You suddenly felt incredibly stupid for leaving your bedroom and walking to his in the middle of the night.

“I… I think I should go back, uh, to my room,” you murmured, your hand lifting to have your thumb point in the direction of where you came from. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You turned again, and just as you were to take the first step, Bob came up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder. Warmth radiated through your arm and chest, and you felt yourself lean into his touch a little.

“[y/n], wait. You didn’t wake me up.” His grip on your shoulder tightened a little, and he added: “God, you really are freezing…”

“Yeah, well… you run hot and I run cold…”, you murmured and you let your head fall.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you… Do you… I mean…”, he stammered, trying to find the right words. “Do you wanna come inside? I could… I mean, we could… you know…”

You looked over your shoulder and saw his Adam’s apple bop up and down as he gulped, unease taking over his face in the shadows.

“Do you want a hug?” He finally offered and scratched the back of his head.

“Yes, please.” The words fell from your lips before you had the chance to stop them, so you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stop any more from escaping. You rolled your eyes at yourself, took a deep breath, and then turned back to him, your mind getting hazy from all the back and forth. “Yes, I would really like a hug right now?”

The softest ‘ok’ came from Bob, and he opened his door to let you step into his bedroom. He opened his arms, and you walked up to him. The second his arms wrapped around you, you felt the tension fall away, and you melted into him. Into the warm glow that enveloped you. You buried your head against his chest, closing your eyes, and wrapped your arms around him, too. His muscles tensed and then relaxed again under your fingertips, getting used to the cold of your touch.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled and looked up at him, pulling your head back a little.

“No, you’re good, sweetheart,” he put his head on top of yours and pulled you even closer. Your heart bloomed at the pet name, adding to the warmth taking over your body with every second he held you close. He closed the door, pushing at the wooden slab with his foot, and let his fingers run through your hair.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Your words were hesitant, barely audible in the darkness of his room. You hoped that the darkness would just swallow them. That Bob couldn’t feel the way your heart was racing and how it skipped a beat whenever his thumb brushed over that one spot on your back. “It’s just that it’s so cold in my room and I can’t fall asleep when…”

You could feel his head bop in affirmation before he even uttered the words: “Of course you can stay here tonight.” You didn’t know just how badly he tried to suppress the urge to add ‘you can stay here every night’. The words were on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst free. Instead, he pulled away from you and then motioned to his bed.

Bob walked over but you stayed in your place at the door, watching him lift the covers and then climb in. That’s when he looked up and frowned for a split second before he patted the mattress.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” He sent you a sheepish smile and winked at you, earning a breathy laugh from you.

Mustering up every little ounce of confidence, you shuffled over to him and climbed into bed next to him. You didn’t plant yourself right next to him, no, but left a little gap, suddenly feeling like you were a teenager again and sitting in bed with your crush for the very first time. You clasped your hands over the covers and tried to hide the smile at your own nervousness. You might kick ass on a daily basis, but sitting in bed with Bob seemed to be your very own final boss.

“You can come closer, I don’t mind,” Bob assured and opened his arms again, inviting you to scooch over.

“I don’t know why I am so nervous,” you lied, looking over at him and biting on your bottom lip anxiously. “I mean, we literally cuddled earlier… in front of everyone else…”

“Right? I mean, it’s not like we haven’t done this before,” he agreed and you could see his cheeks turning pink. “I could, uh, put on a shirt if you want. If you feel more comfortable then.” He pointed at his wardrobe and shrugged his shoulders.

“No, that’s ok.”

Your eyes travelled down his face. Over his throat. Stopping to watch the vein flutter under his skin quickly for a second. His chest rose and fell with every inhale and exhale. Your gaze moved further down, following the trail of hair that disappeared under the blanket and then to his hand.

“I'm sorry, I tend to… freeze when I'm nervous.” When you realised the unintended pun you laughed at yourself, and then looked back at his face. There was a smile tugging at the corners of his eyes, and you realised the nervousness abate.

You scooched closer to Bob and let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to bridge the distance. He put his head against your temple, and you cosied up against his chest, your hand resting on his pectoral muscles.

“Did you have another nightmare?” You asked him, your gaze travelling up to him slowly.

“Why do you ask?” His voice was filled with confusion, and he met your eyes.

“Well, you said you were already awake when I knocked… it's quite late, so,” you explained and let your fingers trail up his chest, running along the edge of his collarbone.

“Oh! No… I just couldn't get my mind to quiet down,” he revealed, his eyes following the movement of your fingers. The vein in his neck started to pulse more quickly, and you let your finger run over it slowly, carefully.

“I'm sorry…Anything in particular?” You looked at him from underneath your lashes and smiled at him.

His eyes wandered to your lips and stayed there for a second before he looked away, over to his bedroom door.

“Uh, no,” he chuckled, and then his eyes flitted to you for a brief second before leaving your gaze again. He did this often when he lied to John or even to Yelena. “Just this and that, you know.”

“Yeah, I get that, too, sometimes.” You put your head on his shoulder again and tried to hide the smile from spreading. “We should probably try and get some sleep, though.”

You could feel Bob nod his head again, and then he scooted down, pulling you with him. Your leg snaked over his thigh, tangling itself with his legs and his left hand found your elbow. He started drawing loose patterns on his skin again, and you could hear his heart skip a beat with your head resting on his chest.

“Are… are you warm enough like this?” His hand left your elbow and he made to pull up the covers.

“Yeah, you're pretty hot, so…” You could hear him choke on his spit a little, his body turning away from you while he tried to catch his breath again. “I mean, you're pretty warm. Body temperature wise…” You sat up, your hands clasping together in your lap while the heat rose up your neck, making your cheeks burn.

When he caught his breath again, he ran his hand over his face and chuckled softly.

“Yeah, of course,” he looked at you from over his shoulder and took a deep breath. “Of course that's what you meant.” He coughed once more and then turned back to you.

“I mean, why would you mean anything else?” Bob shrugged his shoulders, and there was a sorry smile on his face.

“Why wouldn't I? It's not like you aren't hot, you know… It's just... We're teammates, right?” You were scrambling for words, your hands getting clammy with every passing second. “And just because I think you're hot doesn't mean… that doesn't mean you feel the same about me, so…”

His eyes went wide, and suddenly, you were scared he'd choke again. He turned around fully, his hands moving all over the place nervously.

“Please don't choke again,” you begged him and moved back on the mattress. Your feet were on the floor as the regret set in. “I think, I… I’m just gonna… Go back to my own room.”

You stumbled back, readjusting the shirt you were wearing, and tried to make your way to the bedroom door in the dim light.

“Wait. Stay, please!” Bob hurried after you and stopped you, his right hand resting on your left arm. His left hand cupped your cheek, and you closed your eyes, scared to find pity in his gaze. “Please, look at me.”

You obliged him, meeting his eyes, and you were surprised when you found no pity in them. Only the softness radiating off of the smile that was spreading on his lips.

“You don't even realise how wrong you are about me not feeling the same way about you…” There was a certain something about the way he said those words. Like he'd wanted to get them off his chest for a long time. “And I don't care about us being teammates.” He puffed out his chest a little, and you snickered at the image in front of you.

“Bucky would kill us, if he knew,” you laughed and he shrugged, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Last time I checked, I'm kind of invincible. But still, it'd be a good reason to go, you know.”

You nodded at him, a big grin on your lips. There was a flutter in your tummy, like butterflies from being in love for the first time. When he leaned down to you, his fingers on your chin to pull you closer, your breath hitched, and your eyes flitted to his lips.

“Can… can I kiss you?” His words were soft and so quiet you weren't sure if you'd heard him right. But you found yourself nodding anyway, turning your head upwards a little and closing your eyes. The kiss was timid at first. Slow and tentative. Barely there.

But when he realised you wouldn't pull away, he sighed quietly and deepened the kiss. You melted against him. His arms wrapped around you, and your hands went up into the hair at the back of his neck. And suddenly, you felt a warmth spread through your whole body, making you think that you'd never felt warmth before.

_____

Taglist (if you want me to add you to future projects, just let me know):

@flaneurpastel

[peachiejeongin]

Hii honey, i’d like to request a fic where the reader is Jisung’s girlfriend, and she has a curvy/chubby body — including an apron belly and visible stretch marks. She’s always been a little self-conscious, but she’s trying to love herself more. One day, she goes out to the beach with some friends, wearing something a little more revealing than usual because she wants to feel confident. But people make rude comments about her body, and she ends up coming home early, crying and feeling humiliated and ashamed. Jisung finds her crying and comforts her. He reassures her, reminding her how beautiful and sexy she is to him (ykyk 🫣🫣)

There’s absolutely no pressure if you decide not to write this/not comfortable writing this. I respect your boundaries and guidelines <3

I love your fics and your blog sm!!

let me be your mirror | han jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x chubby!reader Genre: Fluff, Angst, Established Relationship Warnings: Mentions of weight, weight insecurity, rude comments about weight Notice: Hello, my love! Thank you so much for your request! I'm so glad you like my blog and my stories! I always love writing comfort stories like this, especially as a chubbier girl myself. Without further ado, enjoy the story!

word count: 2.7K

You never liked looking in the mirror.

Growing up, you had always been a curvier individual. You had thicker thighs, an apron belly, and visible stretch marks along your hips and thighs. As a kid, you never thought much of it; however, as you grew into your teenaged and young adult years, you found yourself struggling more with accepting your body as it was.

You were not terribly self-conscious, but you were just enough to where any wrong move of your body or incorrect glance in the mirror would make you shrink back into yourself. 

Therefore, you rarely looked into a mirror, not intently at least; if it was necessary, such as doing your makeup, hair, or brushing your teeth, you obliged, of course. Yet you never observed yourself; you never looked at how outfits looked on you or how your figure was reflected back at you in general. You did not want to go through the effort of picking out the perfect outfit just to view one small flaw in the mirror and question everything you had previously thought.

Because of your reasoning, you never looked in the mirror more than you had to.

Today, however, was the day you were going to change that.

Thankfully, with the help of those who cared for you and a little self-motivation, you found yourself trying more and more to love yourself; after all, body positivity was in, and if anyone else had a problem with your body, that was on them, right?

Thus, you found yourself smiling for the first time ever as you looked in the mirror. Today was beach day with your friends—an event you had all been planning for weeks. You had figured for such a special occasion, why not treat yourself to a new bathing suit?

It was a bit revealing, you would admit��a two piece, baby blue bikini with a thin-stringed top and tie-sides on the bottoms that hugged and accentuated your body in all of its prominent curves.

But damn did you look amazing.

The bathing suit fit just right in every facet. The top showed a moderate amount of cleavage while also keeping everything secure. The apron belly you were so used to hiding was on full display and with pride. The bottoms, although riding up slightly, were tied to perfection around your hips and ass. The stretch marks on your thighs were visible, but you did not mind; everyone has them, you thought.

For the first time in a long time, you felt confident in how you looked, and you were excited to head to the beach and flaunt just how spectacular you appeared and felt.

As if your excitement could not peak further, your ever adoring boyfriend, Jisung, entered the room.

“Hey, baby. Do you want—DAMN!” Jisung nearly dropped his phone, his jaw dropping and eyes going agape. “Hello, gorgeous!”

Jisung immediately adorned his words by taking your hands in his, kissing the tops of them lightly as he found himself completely mesmerized by you.

You let out a light chuckle.

“I guess I don’t need to ask if I look okay,” you remarked, cheeks flushing a light shade of pink.

“‘Okay?!’” Jisung repeated in an exasperated tone of voice. “You look more than ‘okay!’ You look stunning! Beautiful, gorgeous, ethereal, sexy—”

“Okay, Ji!” you laughed out, pushing his shoulder slightly. “I get it!”

Jisung giggled. 

“Seriously, love,” Jisung continued. “You look very nice.”

Your boyfriend came closer to you, resting his hands on your shoulders and kissing your forehead.

“And I hope you have a wonderful time with your friends.”

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” you quietly asked, your hands lightly grasping his forearms. Jisung nodded.

“Yeah, I’m just not in a beachy mood today,” he replied with a smile. “Think I’ll stay home and game for a while.”

You smiled, giving an understanding nod.

“If you’re sure.”

At that moment, you heard a car honk from outside of your apartment, undoubtedly belonging to your friends.

“That’s my cue,” you beamed, taking an opportunity to glance one more time in the mirror. “Are you sure I look good?”

“Babe, I promise you look absolutely, undeniably beautiful,” Jisung reaffirmed. “Now go have fun with your friends!”

“Okay, okay!” you chuckled airily, grabbing the small beach bag you had packed and pecking Jisung’s cheek before heading out.

Jisung smiled as you did so, his heart filled with pride as he saw his girl being confident in herself.

The sun was warm on your skin as you stepped out of the car and carefully onto the soft sand, feeling its grainy texture sink in between your toes. You took in a deep breath, intaking the scent of fresh air mixed with the slight mist and salt of the water nearby.

Your mind was clear, enthused, and ready for the day ahead.

You and your friends were quick in setting everything up; beach chairs lounged just near the shore, towels draped over them. A basket sat nearby filled with snacks and drinks for the day. Most importantly, you and your friends splashed, laughed, and swam as the sun made you all glow. You were enjoying yourselves without a care in the world.

The day was perfect.

Until the comments came.

You had emerged from the water to grab a snack; you had been in the water for almost thirty minutes by that point, so were you feeling quite hungry. As you reached into the basket to grab a mini-sandwich your friend had brought along, you heard snickers from nearby.

At first, you thought it was just the wind rustling against nearby tree branches, so you thought nothing of it.

Then, you heard the whispers.

“Bold move wearing that.”

“What was she thinking?”

“Of course she’s grabbing a snack.”

You turned around, finding the source of the comments to be a group of teenage girls sitting on a hill nearby. As soon as you noticed them, they looked away, pressing their lips together in attempts to contain their cruel laughter.

Yet again, you tried to shake it off.

You thought you looked great, and that was all that mattered.

However, as you turned away, focusing back on your sandwich and the sun encapsulating you in its heat, the comments continued.

One in particular stuck in your mind:“I wouldn’t leave my house if I looked like her.”

You froze.

Your heart tightened. You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning with a mix of fury and sadness. Your previously confident demeanor had melted away in an instant. Suddenly, your bikini felt too tight; your stretch marks turned from something everyone had into something that disgraced your thighs. Everything felt as if it was spilling over.

Including your tears.

Without thinking, you went to find the friend who had driven you all to the beach, wrapping a towel around your waist in an attempt to conceal yourself from the rest of the beach, whom you prayed were not thinking the same as those girls.

“Hey, Winter?” you yelled out, motioning for her to come towards you.

“Hey girl! What’s up? Are you okay?” Her voice morphed from delight to panic as she noticed your beet-red face and tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m so sorry to ask, but, um,” you choked your words out, trying not to cry in between syllables. “Can you drive me home?”

“Babes, we just got here,” Winter responded with a teasing tone. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” you said quickly. Too quickly.

“Are you sure?” Winter asked, crossing her arms and not believing you for a second.

“Yeah, I just…” You stole another glance at the teenagers, who were still cackling. “I don’t feel well is all. I’m sorry.”

Winter looked at you, then towards the girls, then back at you. Her eyes screamed at you that you did not have to leave because of some petty ass teenagers, but your gaze yelled back that you needed to get out of there before you broke down.

Finally, Winter nodded in understanding and sympathy, quickly explaining to your other friends what was going on. They all bid their farewells—most of them frowning as they did so—as you and Winter made your way to Winter’s car.

The car ride home was silent. You did not want to talk about what had happened, and Winter respected that.

Before you knew it, you were back at your apartment, looking at the front door with regret.

How could a day that was supposed to be so fun turn into such a disaster?

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Winter spoke, dragging you out of your degrading thoughts. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah,” you responded in a soft voice, trying to conceal your heart-ache. “See ya.”

You hopped out of the car, walking regretfully to the apartment, the towel still snug around you.

You slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind you and trying to keep your sobs from spilling out in fear you would worry Jisung.

You nearly collapsed on the couch, laying down and burying your face in your hands as you quietly cried.

You did not understand.

You had been so confident.

You thought you looked good.

Ji thought you looked good.

Your friends thought you looked good.

Why did you let a group of immature teenagers who did not even know the difference between you and the next person get to you?

They had made every insecurity of yours resurface, and you hated that more than anything. More so, you were upset at yourself for letting it happen.

However, before you could sink deeper into your despairful mindset, you heard a door creek open and footsteps echoing down the hallway, along with brief laughs and mutters.

Jisung.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself, using the towel to quickly wipe your face of any tears and praying to God Jisung would be so focused on getting back to his game that he would not notice you being home so early.

Your efforts were in vain.

As Jisung strided by the entrance to the living room, he glanced inside, swiftly noticing you on the couch. He took a step back, his brows furrowed as he walked inside the room.

“Back already, baby?” he asked in confusion. “That was a short trip.”

“Yeah, uh, the beach was kinda dirty! Killed the vibe!”

You hid your face as much as possible from him with the towel, trying to mask the crack in your voice.

Jisung knew you better than that, though.

“Honey,” he said, his tone urging as he took a seat beside you on the couch. “Are you okay?”

His hands came gently over top of yours, lightly bringing down the towel from in front of your face.

The sight before him—your reddened face, puffy eyes, and tear-streaked cheeks—broke his heart.

“Sweetheart, what happened?”

You did not even answer before the tears poured out. It was as if everything—the humiliation, the shame, and the insecurity—came crashing down on you all at once.

Within seconds, Jisung pulled you into his arms, his hands tracing soft circles on your back.

“I’m,” you sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for, baby?”

“For coming home early,” you replied shakily. “And for letting some losers ruin my day.”

“Did somebody say something to you, Honey?” Jisung asked, his voice soft and steady.

“These girls,” you began. “They kept laughing at me and making really mean comments. One of them said she would never leave her house if she looked like me.”

Jisung’s eyebrowed crossed and his grip on you became tighter.

“I am so sorry, baby,” he gently cooed. “Those girls don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“But what if they do, Ji?” you questioned, all self-doubt re-entering your mind. “I mean, look at me. I’m hideous. I’m hideous and I’m chubby and I never wanna fucking go outside or look in a mirror ever again.”

You practically fell over in Jisung’s lap, sobbing uncontrollably as he consoled you.

“Hey, listen to me,” he told you softly. “You are not hideous. Sure, you’re a little chubby, but that doesn’t have anything to do with your beauty. If anything, it makes you even more beautiful to me.”

“How?” you sputtered out. 

All of a sudden, an idea popped in Jisung’s mind.

“Let me show you,” he answered vaguely.

He gently lifted you up, guiding you to your shared bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed, just in front of the mirror perched in the room.

“C’mere,” he told you, patting his leg. You hesitantly obliged, sitting comfortably in Jisung’s lap, but refusing to look at yourself in the mirror; you feared that if you did, the events of the day would never leave your brain.

Jisung, however, was not having that.

“Look at yourself baby,” he whispered. You shook your head quickly, a lump forming in your throat.

“Baby,” Jisung said more sternly. “I need you to look at yourself. For me. Please?”

Jisung’s eyes pleaded with yours, the pureness of his gaze finally allowing you to give in.

You reluctantly glanced at the mirror, trying not to scowl at every part of your body. As you did so, Jisung kissed your cheek.

“Good job, love,” he told you. “Now, I want you to know that what you think is hideous, I think is absolutely breathtaking.”

His hands moved to your waist, slowly sliding up and down your sides as his head rested on your shoulder.

“Like here, for example,” he continued, his hands now coming just in front enough to lay on your apron belly. “You always see the flaws, but I see home. This belly is yours; it’s soft and warm, it’s where I rest my head when I’m tired, and it's slowly where you learned to love yourself first. It’s part of you, and that makes it perfect.”

Jisung’s hands then moved to your thighs, massaging them lightly.

“And don’t even get me started on your thighs, baby,” he told you with a chuckle. “Way better than any pillow, not to mention I have to resist the urge to smack your ass whenever you walk by me in your shorts—”

“Ji!”

“Sorry!” He let out a light laugh and you did the same, making him light up as he watched the sadness within you slowly melt away. “But it’s true! They’re so thick and soft and they automatically make anything you wear look damn amazing!”

You let out another string of giggles as Han playfully jiggled your thighs.

“Oh, and these,” he continued, his fingertips lightly tracing your stretch marks. “These are the most you. They tell your story. Everything you’ve been through.”

Jisung leaned down, pressing feather light kisses to them.

“Baby, I wish you knew how I looked at you,” Jisung stated in a gentle tone just above a whisper. “You are so, so beautiful to me. Not just because of how you look but because of who you are. I love every mark, every curve, and every inch of you. You are sexy, strong, and most importantly, you are enough, my love.”

His arms wrapped tightly around your middle, and as you held tightly onto him, you felt yourself breathe a little easier. The truth was that Jisung saw you; he saw you as more than a chubby girl. He saw the real you, curves and all, and his love made the world seem a little less cruel.

“I think I’m going to head back to the beach,” you whispered, a newfound determination present within you.

“Hell yeah,” Jisung whispered back. “And when you get there, flaunt what you’ve got to those bitches. Because you are gorgeous and have every right to own it, baby.”

You smiled brightly, standing up as Han followed suit and turning to face him.

“I love you,” you said quietly. “Thank you for that.”

Jisung brought you into his arms once again for a brief, yet tight and warm hug.

“I love you too,” Jisung replied with a sweet, smooth voice. “Never forget that.”

You were determined not to, as you realized that the only mirror that accurately reflected yourself was Jisung himself.

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ: @ᴀquazero

🏷️@amararosesblog @velvetmoonlght @amarecerasus (dm/inbox to be added!)

[ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ? ᴅʀᴏᴘ ᴀ ʟɪᴋᴇ, ᴀ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ, ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ᴀ ���ᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ!]

[so-and-sos-blog]

I've had similar thoughts to lapislantern's argument here (I hope you don't mind me shortening the reblog chain). The past year has gotten me leaning a lot more towards your side, but I think there is something to this argument.

(Apologies if this gets rambly and/or if I overexplain things that are obvious.)

When you put up a poster, you are signaling two things:

1. The content of the poster.

2. That there is a reason why sharing that content was worth designing the poster, printing it with paper and ink, and going around putting it up in places.

If you want to inform people of something they don't know or convince them of something they don't agree with, then point 2 is basically trivial. But someone has to not agree. Nobody puts up posters saying "the sky is blue". It's true, but everyone knows it's true, and everyone knows that everyone knows.

Similarly (warning for antisemitic slogan), no reasonable person would put up a poster saying "Jews will not replace us". Of course you won't. That doesn't even make sense. But in the context of believing that Jews are trying to "replace" white people, then the statement becomes a rallying cry. The full message is "I know that Jews are trying to replace us, but they will fail because we are strong". That interpretation provides the reason for putting up the poster. And I'd argue that anyone who sees that poster will immediately understand that. Thus, that reason ("Jews are trying to replace us") is part of the message.

(See also: "not all men" -> "feminists hate all men", "it's okay to be white" -> "SJWs are trying to make you think that being white is bad".)

Could it have been intended to mean something else? Maybe, but there are two things to note. First, if I'm right, it conveys this idea regardless. "Convey" here means it might put the idea in people's heads, persuade people to believe it, or embolden people who already agree against those who disagree. And if it does, then that's going to cause harm, and that matters. Second, if the author meant something different, there's at least a chance that they would have realized the problem and avoided it. But they didn't, and that's evidence.

So, about the hostages.

Back in late 2023, it seemed (to me and apparently a bunch of people I'd been following) like everyone outside of Tumblr was talking about October 7th, about the hostages, about condemning antisemitism, and nobody was talking about what Israel was doing to the people of Gaza. And if they did, they downplayed it, and/or they were lambasted for "making no mention of October 7th/the hostages/Israel's right to defend itself". Celebrities were being blacklisted for posting links to Palestinian charities on social media. Someone painted over a "Free Palestine" mural to make it say "Free the hostages". Only after the ICJ hearing in early 2024 did the mainstream conversation seem to turn against Israel. That might not be a good description of the full picture, but that was what I perceived.

And in that context, saying "Bring them home"/“Free the hostages” or whatever seems pointless to say. Nobody is saying "don't bring them home, I hope they die". But people are saying "it's not worth killing thousands of other people just to bring them home" and being attacked for it. And to someone who either doesn't know or doesn't care very much about the Palestinian death toll, the latter sounds like the former: they would believe that if you oppose Israel’s actions in the war, you must just not care about the hostages and/or about Jews. I'm 90% sure I have seen at least someone saying exactly that. And that interpretation provides a reason to put up the poster. And so that seems to be the message that the poster conveys.

At least, that's what I would have said early on. But in a cultural context where "I care about these Israeli lives" *isn't* obvious, all of that might be moot. And after following a few Jumblr blogs for a year, and watching antizionist blogs on my dash get progressively more deranged, I don't know anymore.

But I hope that all makes sense.

no like fr the way that a lot of people look at israelis -- there's no group of people on earth i look at that way. literally no group of people where i'd look at posters of hostages from that group and go "that's obviously genocide propaganda i'm tearing it down." certainly not any group of people where i'd watch a video of their house blowing up and hear a woman crying for her dog in the rubble and point and laugh.

i can't even imagine having that response honestly. i can imagine apathy sure but glee? over people suffering? looking at a whole nationality that way? there's no way

i think that has to corrode your soul. i mean how can't it?

[nqueso-lies]

Hi, so this is VERY RANDOM but I'd like to hear your opinion because I'm on the fence about it and I love you and your opinions.

So I like dark themed romance and I like bucktommy so I was thinking and I'm in the middle of writing a dark themed romance for bucktommy.

My issue is if that's too much? Is it okay to write something that is not fluffy, romantic or hurt/comfort? Because most of the works I've read are like that and they great and the fandom is amazing and that what inspired me to write again after 10 years.

I'm scared whoever going to read it won't take it well and I'm scared I'll start discourse and people making posts about my fic and pointing fingers at me. I'd just disintegrate.

I'm sorry but I'm having a meltdown since a month ago and still do. I write like one sentence and then ask myself "what's the point?" And close the writing app, and this is killing my brain because I'm already a slow writer and I'm struggling with English.

And to give you an idea about it, it has stalking, kidnapping and manipulation.

Should I tuned it down, should I drop it, should I go with what everyone else is writing, what 😭.

I'm sorry, but I really didn't know who should I ask but you.

You can choose not to post this and just give me an answer or just ignore me. I'd hate to disturb your peace if this ask attract unwanted attention, I'd absolutely hate that to happen to you.

I was going to answer this with an @ anon but I think it's important that everyone see your ask because it makes me sad.

It doesn't make me sad because you want to write dark romance for bucktommy, it makes me sad that you feel like you can’t because you'll be ridiculed for it. I can't speak for all bucktommy fans but I can say that there are currently dark romance themed bucktommy fics out there and they seem to be well received and I know I read them.

Imo, if the fic is tagged accordingly, then go for it. I'm currently reading a few mob boss fics that I would describe (as well as the writers) as dark romance.

There's nothing wrong with safely exploring things through art. How many people love to watch the show 'You'? Gallavich fic is heavy on dark romance. Bucktommy are legal adults.

I feel like the CSA fics really fucked up this fandom. That was completely different. Those fics were deliberately mistagged and sent to people to trigger them. That's not what you or other writers who properly tag their fics, are doing.

If someone reads your fic and it has a trigger in it that is tagged and they get angry that's on them.

For instance, and please forgive me, I'm not calling this writer out, but there is a bucktommy series about a very specific fetish that is no where near my interest levels... and you know what I do?? I scroll past it.

Just because I don't enjoy that doesn't mean others don't.

I would recommend turning on comment monitoring (?) to get a feel on the reactions, but I don't see why you'd have a problem.

Annie, please write it. Tag appropriately and have fun! It's what we're all here for at the end of the day anyway.

[slattlicker]

college age schlatt i beg 🙏 like the proper nerdy computer science college student everyone seems to forget he was

╭﹐✦˚₊· 𖤐 * no recursion without return ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ╮ imagine: hot engineering nerd meets cute cs nerd. she needs help passing a required class. he needs someone who actually listens. one tutoring session turns into two... and then they build something together. ╰﹒♡₊˚๑ *✧﹒✦ ࣪ ˖ ┊

﹒₊✦ a/n: college schlatt is real, actually. nerds deserve romance too. i'm so so sorry if this is inaccurate,,, i am an english writing major (who used to be in biochem) so take everything stem-talk in this with the biggest grain of salt ♡

warnings: academic setting · lots of stem talk (cs + engineering) · mutual nerd crushes · slow-burn vibes · tutoring sessions · project bonding · lab flirting · light insecurity · soft & earned first kisses

✧✧✧

it starts with a room that smells like dry-erase markers and burnt coffee.

tuesday afternoon, 3:15 pm. you’re ten minutes early to the cs building’s third-floor lab—mostly because the alternative was sitting through another insufferably slow dining hall lunch, and partly because you weren’t sure if you’d find the place at all.

the whiteboard has a half-erased doodle of a mushroom in glasses. someone’s labeled it fungi with a minor in comp sci.

you snort, drop your bag onto the table, and slide into the nearest swivel chair.

you're not exactly struggling in the class—but you're also not thriving. cs230: data structures and algorithms. it’s mandatory for your minor, and you’ve been putting it off for two semesters too long.

the professor announced last week that office hours would be staffed by the department’s “stem peer guides.” you hadn’t planned on going.

but then the last lab nearly made you cry in the library bathroom.

so here you are.

you’re still tugging your laptop out of your bag when the door creaks.

he walks in backwards—wearing a hoodie that probably cost too much and socks with cartoon ducks on them, juggling two coffees and a laptop under one arm.

“hey—sorry,” he says, turning around and freezing when he spots you. “didn’t think anyone was gonna show up.”

he sets the coffees down. his glasses slide a little down his nose when he tilts his head.

“you here for cs230?”

you nod. “yeah.”

he blinks. then smiles—just a little. you catch the beginnings of smile lines.

“i’m schlatt,” he says. “stem guide. i did the class last year.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and survived?”

“barely.” he slides into the chair across from you and cracks open his laptop. “what are we working on?”

you pause. he’s surprisingly cute for someone who clearly color-codes his life. his keyboard has custom caps. his notes—when he turns the screen to show you—are annotated with little pixel cats.

you try not to show your amusement. “i think i broke my brain trying to write a recursive function.”

schlatt huffs a laugh. “you and everyone else.”

he takes a sip of his coffee, then pushes the other cup toward you.

“extra,” he says. “in case you need brain fuel. also because i got nervous and ordered two by accident and i couldn't tell them i didn't want the other one.”

you accept it without thinking. warm. lightly sweet. you usually take yours iced, but it's cold in this room, so you'll take it.

“thanks,” you murmur.

“no problem,” he says, already pulling up the assignment prompt on his screen. “let’s untangle some loops.”

✧✧✧

you’re twenty minutes in and already rethinking your life choices.

not because schlatt’s bad at explaining things. actually, the opposite.

he’s good. really good.

he’s got the kind of brain that makes metaphors on the fly—comparing recursive functions to russian nesting dolls, stack overflows to a laundry chair that’s reached critical mass, and call stacks to cabinets held open in sequence.

“okay,” he says, spinning the whiteboard toward you, “so imagine you're opening those russian dolls—you know, the ones that keep getting smaller?”

you nod, watching as he draws a series of half-circles nestled inside each other.

“each function call is like opening another doll. every time the function calls itself, it goes one layer deeper. but the only way to start returning values—to actually finish—is to reach the smallest one.”

“the base case,” you murmur, tapping the smallest doll he’s drawn.

his smile quirks. “exactly. once you hit that, you start putting them all back together. one by one, returning values up the chain.”

you tilt your head. “so recursion’s not about jumping around—it's about going in and then back out in the same order.”

“bingo.”

he pivots to his laptop and pulls up a short recursive function on the screen. you lean in.

“okay, next part—this,” he gestures at the lines of indented code, “is the call stack. think of it like trying to put dishes away.”

“…dishes?”

he nods, animated now. “you open a cabinet to put a plate in. then you grab another plate, but instead of closing the first cabinet, you open a second one. and a third. and a fourth. you keep opening cabinets without shutting the old ones.”

you raise an eyebrow. “sounds like how my roommate loads the dishwasher.”

he grins. “right? but the point is, each open cabinet is a function waiting to finish. they can’t finish until the one they just called returns. so when you hit your base case, you finally start closing those cabinets, in reverse order.”

you stare at the screen, tracing the indents with your eyes.

“so,” you start slowly, “the top function keeps waiting—holding its cabinet door open—until the one it just called is done. and that one’s waiting for the one it called. like a long hallway of open doors.”

“yes!” schlatt nearly bounces in his chair. “and that hallway is your stack. it fills from the bottom up—every time you go deeper. but if there’s no base case—or it’s too far down?”

“then the hallway gets too crowded.”

you glance up at him. “and the stack… overflows?”

he throws both hands up, mock-dramatic. “you get it!”

you laugh—really laugh—and shake your head. “it actually makes sense. which is annoying. because i was ready to just declare defeat and become a barista.”

he nudges his coffee toward you. “nah. baristas don’t use call stacks.”

you take a sip, smiling into the lid. “honestly? if you’d used metaphors in the lab handout, i might’ve passed the last quiz.”

“metaphors are how i survive,” he says, then lowers his voice in mock-conspiracy. “they trick your brain into thinking you’re doing storytelling, not math.”

you grin. “you are such a dork.”

“thank you,” he says, deadpan. “that’s the highest compliment in this lab.”

you roll your eyes—but you’re still smiling.

✧✧✧

you hadn’t meant to invite him.

it just slipped out—somewhere between scribbling return values and teasing him for his handwriting—your mouth said, “hey, i’m grabbing food after this. you want to come?” like it was the most normal thing in the world.

he blinked. just once.

then shrugged and said, “sure,” like he wasn’t surprised either.

now you’re sitting across from him at a corner table in the dining hall. your tray’s got a slice of pizza and a sad salad. his has a sandwich, two cookies, and three chocolate milks.

“you know,” you say, chewing thoughtfully, “for someone who talks like a grad student, you eat like a middle schooler.”

he takes a sip of one of the chocolate milks. “middle schoolers are onto something.”

you snort. then pause. then blurt it out—because you’ve been thinking about it since the cs homework started, and he feels safe, in a quiet, weird way:

“okay, don’t judge me, but i’ve been working on this stupid little side project where i’m trying to build a low-power prosthetic hand using recycled printer motors.”

schlatt looks up, mid-bite. “wait. seriously?”

you nod. “yeah, i’ve been salvaging parts from the e-waste lab and retrofitting them. it’s dumb and janky and probably not functional, but—”

“that’s so sick,” he says, with total sincerity. “like—you’re making that from scratch?”

you sit up a little straighter. “well, not the whole thing. i’m using an arduino as the controller right now, because i suck at microprocessors and writing drivers from zero is hell. but i’ve been wiring it to flex sensors, and i’m experimenting with these homebrew 3d-printed phalanges—”

you don’t stop.

not once you get going.

you talk with your hands, gesturing wildly, pulling up half-broken images on your phone, sketching quick shapes on your napkin with a pen in the side-pocket of your backpack.

and the whole time? schlatt just watches.

listens.

not just politely—but engaged. interested. like he wants to hear it all. like you’re not over-explaining, or rambling, or going on too long about a niche thing that keeps your brain lit up at 3am.

you pause somewhere around “wrist articulation via recycled watch gears” and finally look up.

his eyes are warm.

“you know,” he says, grinning, “i think you just activated my stem side quest.”

you blink. “what?”

“i wanna help,” he says. “i mean, if you’ll let me. i’ve never coded a servo system, but… i’m a fast learner. and i think it’s badass.”

you don’t say anything.

not right away.

because your chest feels kind of full. your face feels warm. and for once, your brain doesn’t immediately try to shrink you back down.

instead, you nod. just once. “okay.”

he smiles at you over his chocolate milk.

and you think, shit, maybe office hours weren’t the highlight of the week after all.

✧✧✧

the next few weeks settle into a rhythm.

it starts with tutoring.

once a week turns into twice. then three times. not because you’re struggling (anymore), but because he’s… kind of fun to talk to. at least when he’s not roasting your variable names or trying to explain recursion using empty cereal boxes.

he sits across from you at the library table, hoodie sleeves pushed up, laptop screen smudged from how often he drags his fingers across it to point something out. sometimes he forgets to eat. you learn to pack granola bars in your pencil pouch. he never says thank you—just steals one with a smirk and keeps talking.

you start getting better. grades creeping up. error logs shrinking. you don’t dread opening your ide anymore. the code starts making sense—not just his, but yours.

one afternoon, you casually mention a project idea you’d been playing with—something stupid, just for fun. something to do with hardware integration. you expect him to laugh.

he doesn’t.

he spins his laptop around and starts mapping out a database schema like he’s been waiting for you to say it.

that’s how the side project starts.

lunches get longer. office hours get later. one day you bring your soldering kit to the library, and he lights up like you just handed him a rare pokémon card. the whole table smells like burnt plastic for an hour. no one complains. but no one sits near you either.

you nerd out hard. unapologetically. you find yourself going on tangents—about conductive thread, or how weird the i2c protocol is—and instead of zoning out, he asks questions. good ones. thoughtful ones. he doesn’t just tolerate your rants; he builds on them.

and okay, maybe you start noticing things.

like how he mumbles to himself when he’s focused. or how his hands are always warm. or how he smiles at you—not in a big, charming way, but in a quiet, earned one. like you’re the only one who gets to see this side of him.

it’s nothing serious. just… a shift.

you brush it off.

but your code’s never looked cleaner.

and your heart’s never beat louder.

✧✧✧

it happens by accident.

you’re heading toward the back patio of the student union, iced coffee in one hand, a stack of circuits notes in the other, when you spot him.

schlatt.

at one of the outdoor tables.

not alone.

there’s a group of students—three of them, maybe four—leaning in. cs majors, you recognize them. they’re the type who ask three questions per lecture and answer five more that weren’t theirs. big voices. bragging energy.

you can’t hear everything, but you don’t need to. the body language’s loud enough.

schlatt’s sitting off-center. not really in the circle. elbows tucked in, voice low, like he’s trying to contribute. like he wants to. but they’re talking over him. dismissing. one of them even laughs—not the good kind. the kind you’ve felt in your spine before.

and you watch it happen:

the way schlatt’s mouth tugs tight at the corner. the way he adjusts his sleeve, like it’ll make him smaller. the way he tries one more time to speak, then gives up halfway through the sentence and shrugs it off, pretending it didn’t matter.

they keep talking.

he goes quiet.

you’re frozen in place, coffee sweating through your fingers, because it clicks.

he’s like you.

he is you.

all that time you thought he was the confident one—the one who belonged. the one who was already part of something. but he’s not. not really. not when it comes to this. not when it comes to them.

he’s just better at hiding it.

better at laughing it off.

but the look in his eyes, right then—small and a little tired—that’s a look you know too well.

no one talks about what it feels like when your brain lights up for something and everyone else treats it like a joke.

no one talks about what it’s like to be too much in the wrong direction.

and suddenly, all your late-night rambling about microcontrollers and e-textiles feels different.

because he listened. not just because he was polite. but because he got it. you don't think you've ever felt so fully understood until him.

you take a step forward. you don’t know what you’re going to say.

but you’re not about to leave him sitting alone in a conversation that doesn’t want him.

not when you know what that feels like.

so you walk over.

“hey, there you are,” you say, nudging your knuckles gently against schlatt’s shoulder. “i was looking for you.”

he turns, surprised—then relieved. “oh—hey y/n.”

“sorry,” one of the students says, hesitant. “uh, are we… interrupting something?”

“nah,” you say, easy. “just didn’t want to miss my favorite stem guide.”

schlatt’s ears go a little pink.

you glance at the table—some kind of project group, you think. their laptops are open, notebooks out, but their conversation’s turned awkward now. the vibe’s off. not hostile—just… cliquey.

“you guys working on something for fundamentals?” you ask, glancing at their notes.

“uh, yeah,” one mutters. “trying to figure out the recursion stuff.”

you smile. “then you’re in luck. this guy’s a recursion whisperer.”

schlatt huffs a little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i’m serious,” you say, looking at him now. “you explained it to me with like…those russian dolls. made it make sense in ten minutes.”

“you remember the russian dolls?”

“obviously,” you grin. “changed my life.”

he smiles, a little shy, but brighter now.

you turn to the group. “anyway, sorry to interrupt. i just wanted to steal him for a bit. we’re working on something together—well, more like, he’s doing the hard part and i’m nodding along and pretending to contribute.”

they chuckle. the tension eases.

“good luck, though,” you add, friendly. “you’ve got a good one here.”

you tap the back of his hand.

“ready, genius?”

he nods. stands up. follows you without question.

and once you’re a few steps away, you glance over and say, casually but soft:

“for the record? you’re way too smart to sit through that kind of conversation, with those kinds of people, and not say anything.”

his voice is quiet. “didn’t think they really wanted my advice…or any of my input, for that matter.”

"sucks for them," you bump his arm. “i do.”

he looks at you.

and smiles.

“you’re different,” he says.

you shrug. “nah. i just don’t have the patience for people who don’t know a good brain when they’re sitting next to one.”

he laughs under his breath—bashful, but warm.

“besides,” you add, nudging him again, “you’re the only guy on campus who’s ever made me care about code.”

“flattered,” he says, with a little bow of his head. “high praise.”

“it is,” you nod. “don’t let that go to your head, though.”

“too late.”

you both laugh.

and as you walk side-by-side down the hallway, something feels… lighter.

���✧✧

the lab is mostly empty—just the hum of old fluorescents overhead and the rhythmic click of schlatt’s keyboard echoing off the cinderblock walls.

you’re both hunched over the prototype, wires splayed like spaghetti across the table, your laptop screen casting a pale blue glow over your notes. it’s late. not late-late, but late enough that you’ve lost track of time in that delicious, focus-hazed kind of way.

“okay,” you murmur, “i think that’s the last adjustment on the sensor matrix. wanna try running the loop again?”

schlatt doesn’t answer right away—he’s rereading your code, brows furrowed, mouth slightly open like he’s working through it out loud in his head.

you wait.

he presses enter.

the terminal blinks once more.

and then—

nothing.

the servo doesn’t twitch. the sensor reads null. everything is still.

you groan, letting your head thunk forward onto the table. “are you kidding me?”

“hang on,” schlatt mutters, already scrolling. “it’s not a full crash. there’s something—it’s just not hitting the output loop.”

“i swear,” you grumble, face still mashed into your notes, “if this is another semicolon issue, i’m throwing myself into a ditch.”

“nah,” he says, voice calm, reassuring. “it’s not your code.”

you lift your head just enough to side-eye him. “it’s not yours either, huh?”

he doesn’t answer right away.

instead, he reaches for the breadboard, fingers quick and precise as he repositions a single wire—green to yellow. it’s such a small shift you almost miss it.

“that,” he says, “was plugged into the wrong pin.”

you blink.

he presses enter again.

and this time, the prototype moves.

just a little—just a careful curl of synthetic fingers, one joint at a time, like a hesitant wave from a ghost hand.

your jaw drops.

schlatt stares too. for once, he’s quiet.

“…did we—?”

“yeah,” he breathes. “we did.”

you let out a half-laugh, half-squeak. “dude—”

you turn to him without thinking.

and he’s already looking at you.

and before your brain catches up with your body, you’re reaching out—arms around his shoulders, heart in your throat.

he stiffens for a second. then melts into it.

his arms curl around your waist, tentative at first, then tighter. his cheek brushes your temple.

“holy shit,” you whisper, still breathless. “we did it.”

“we really fucking did it.”

the hug lasts longer than it needs to. it shifts. softens. becomes something else.

your hands curl in the fabric of his hoodie. his thumb rubs slow circles at your back.

neither of you move to pull away.

but eventually—awkwardly—you both realize you probably should.

you shift first, just a little, arms loosening. schlatt mirrors you a second later, like he’s waiting for permission.

and then—

your foot bumps a loose cable under the table.

you stumble, just a half step, enough to make you grip his hoodie tighter out of instinct.

he catches you by the elbow—quick, steady—but in doing so, he knocks into the edge of the desk.

a pen clatters to the floor. your hip bangs against the chair. both of you freeze.

then, in perfect harmony:

“sorry—”

“sorry—”

you look at each other.

he’s flushed to the tips of his ears.

you’re no better.

his hand’s still on your elbow. yours is still in the front pocket of his hoodie. neither of you seems to know what to do with yourselves now.

“…so,” you say, trying to laugh it off, “we’re, uh—officially engineers now, right? or, mad scientists? mad engineers? built something that works and almost died doing it.”

“sounds about right,” he mumbles, eyes not quite meeting yours.

you step back fully, brushing imaginary lint off your sleeves. he clears his throat and bends to pick up the pen—just a little too quickly.

“we should, uh…” he gestures vaguely at the wires. “log this. before we forget what we changed.”

“yeah,” you nod. “documentation. good. yep. very sexy.”

he snorts.

and the tension cracks just enough for both of you to breathe again.

✧✧✧

friday lunch.

same table.

you’re there first, as usual—tray to the left, elbow room cleared, and your little “project napkin” tucked just out of sight beneath your phone.

it’s not schematics, not exactly. more like an outline of “natural” movements. lean angles. average post-meal proximity. potential trigger phrases that could ease the moment into something more than just eye contact and banter.

it’s stupid. it’s excessive. it’s so you.

but it’s not like you’ve kissed him yet.

and it’s not like you haven’t thought about it. a lot.

he slides into the seat across from you—slightly out of breath, hoodie slightly askew.

“hey,” he says. “sorry, i ran into a professor who wouldn’t stop talking about his cat’s gut biome.”

you snort. “sounds riveting.”

“almost kissed him out of pity.”

you choke on a bite of salad. “what?”

“nothing,” he mumbles, sipping chocolate milk. “just—brain fried. bad sleep. lots of… thinking.”

you nod. you get that.

you were up half the night replaying yesterday’s hug on a loop. you hadn’t meant to squeeze him that tight. hadn’t meant to say “good job, genius” like that. hadn’t meant for your fingers to linger on his hoodie hem when you stepped back.

but he hadn’t pulled away.

so.

so.

you both eat in silence for a minute. your foot brushes his under the table. once. twice.

neither of you moves.

finally, you say it. quiet. almost like a confession.

“i, uh… may have tried to engineer a perfect kiss scenario today.”

he freezes, sandwich halfway to his mouth.

“...engineer?”

you nod, cheeks warm. “like… ran a few simulations in my head. built a model. set parameters. i was…probably gonna initiate if you laughed three or more times by the end of lunch.”

his jaw drops. “are you serious?”

“extremely.”

he blinks. “because i wrote a whole conditional loop for this.”

“…what?”

he fumbles in his hoodie pocket and pulls out a sticky note. it reads:

python: if eyes_hold >= 3.5 and cafeteria_noise == low: lean_in()

you stare at it.

then back at him.

and burst out laughing. “we’re so stupid.”

“no,” he says, laughing too. “we’re scientists.”

“why can’t we just communicate like normal people?”

“who needs normal?”

he’s still smiling.

you are too.

and this time?

there’s no plan. no diagram. no if/then logic.

you just… lean in. and he meets you halfway.

your noses bump. just slightly. your knees knock beneath the table. it’s clumsy at first—uncoordinated, like every group project you’ve ever had to rescue last-minute.

but then his hand grazes your wrist. your mouth fits against his like it already knew how. like maybe, all along, this wasn’t something to calculate.

it just needed to happen.

and suddenly, none of it feels theoretical. not the way his lips press softly, then more certainly. not the quiet exhale he lets out when you shift just a little closer. not the way your fingers curl in the fabric of his hoodie like you’ve done it a hundred times.

no flowchart could’ve planned this.

it’s instinct. it’s connection. it's human.

it’s easy.

you pull back first. slow. breath caught somewhere behind your grin.

but before you can say anything—

he leans back in. less hesitant this time.

his hand cradles the side of your neck, thumb brushing just beneath your jaw. his mouth meets yours like a spark catching on dry kindling—familiar, but heady. deliberate. like he’s trying to commit it to memory. like he’s making up for every time he could’ve kissed you and didn’t.

your heart stutters. your fingers grip the edge of the table.

he tastes like chocolate milk and lip balm and something stupidly addictive.

when you part again—barely—you stay close, noses brushing, breath mingling.

“you’re gonna break my brain,” he whispers.

you grin. “then i guess i'll be the one to tutor you.”

his laugh is low and warm and very, very fond.

“deal.”

[yaoireview]

SPAMTENNA REVIEW (CLEAR DELTARUNE CHAPTER 3 + 4 SPOILERS)

No one asked me for this one. This ones for me.

Yaknow I think its beautiful, we all DROPPED THE ZERO and got with the hero... I'm just trying to warn you all.. Tony will soon brainwash us all to the point where we ask:

"Who's Jevil? I only know Pluey."

Some may be skeptical, "How would they be gay...?" Well I'm glad you asked.. I have NO DOUBT in my mind thats im wrong. (Until another chapter releases and we have to fight one of spamton's exes as if we were scott pilgrim)

I'm gonna list some evidence of these two characters being gay, If thats okay with everyone.

EVIDENCE 1: I'm just gonna say it. The divorce was Spamton's fault.

Going into Chapter 3 is like helping your friend through couples therapy, and after you show up and listen in on their session, you realize that your friend was definitely the problem.

WE (yes, we.) ALL thought that tenna was gonna be irredeemable. The way that spamton talked this guy up made us feel like tenna is someone who kicks puppies on weekends and uses money from their job to donate to organizations that are trying to bring back public hangings.

Then we meet the guy and he just has abandonment issues, yeah SURE he fought two kids but WHO hasn't?? (I surely have!)

In Tenna's battle, if you have one of spamton's equips on, the check dialogue will say this

Spamton wants him DEAD. The kids weren't enough for him he wants to take his life too!

In the scene where Tenna and Spamton interact, spamton says

As someone pointed out, this is REALLY messed up since the entire chapter, Tenna is scared of being thrown out and spamton's just here casually bringing that up

Its like the equivalent of your ex saying "Hey Aquaman how's it hanging! Wanna get back together?" when you told them while you were together that you're deeply afraid of the ocean because both your parents died in a shipwreck with you as the sole survivor of your family

His greed sickens me.. thats all I'm saying..

Don't act like you cared about the kids you sick fuck...

EVIDENCE 2: THE SIMILARITIES

They just have a lot in common in a nutshell. Tenna and Spamton have so many similarities in dialogue its insane...

Theres a lot of things in Chapter 3 to insinuate that they were once business partners, like how the Z room (which you could only get if you REALLY SUCK) was most likely a room for spamton, and about how the glitched out posters were almost definitely of spamton and tenna together making out sloppy style

Another thing that I've seen people point out is that the poster nearby Spamton's dumpster probably had Tenna in it also, but Spamton only ripped the queen part down that blocked him in a drunken rage, probably because he didn't want to see tenna's part

The main biggest similarity that you most likely noticed during your playthrough was the usage of "HEY EVERY !" in a good chunk of songs in deltarune chapter 3. You wanna know who ELSE shares leitmotifs like that..? Toriel and Asgore.

Atleast they have shared custody over one thing..

EVIDENCE 3: THE DIVORCE

We don't know much what went down exactly between them but we do know that they ended off rough.

In the secret boss (or mantle side thing your choice) quest, a digital version of tenna will start talking about spamton

After the phone call, spamton's face became pale, DASHED out of the room, and it seems like Tenna didn't see him after that (not including the divorce court)

Theres two options what could've happened, the likely one was

Gaster just called him: Maybe to just take control again, or to tell him to knock it off with the gay stuff. Maybe gaster's homophobic who knows!

Spamton did this little thing called acting: His ego couldn't handle telling Tenna how to be a big shot, and so he ran away when it was his turn to do his end of the bargain (This probably isnt the case)

Tenna helped Spamton all he could (from what we know) and spamton DINED AND DASHED when it was his turn to help Tenna, when he most likely didn't have any control over himself

I dunno if he could blame gaster when he told Tenna to invest into cryptocurrency though thats a LITTLE bit up in the air

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I dunno about you but thats toxic yaoi if I ever saw it...

YAOI: 8.5/10

TOXIC YAOI: 10/10

[jraker4]

If you think American economic and military aid is given anywhere for just one reason, you're a bigger idiot than your meme would suggest, which is saying something. For instance: the region being a powderkeg that contains vital resources for the American economy in particular and the global economy in general? Not only that, your own link doesn't say what you say it says. Speaking of not reading something. You're also profoundly ignorant of regional affairs if you think the only thing keeping Egypt from attacking Israel is our aid. I suppose you think Egypt is big fans of Palestinians in general and Hamas in particular, right? They're all Arabs, they gotta be friends, amirite? Idiot. I did, in fact, read the whole article, and the part your triggered snowflake as is whining about is irrelevant to the point you're trying to make: you're claiming that 'that money should go to Americans!' What money, you tedious fucking idiot? 0.01% of our budget? OK! You get to wave your swastika-tipped wand and tomorrow your wish is granted: no more aid to Israel. We're saved! After all, America's problems are solved with a 0.01% budget bump, right? Not to repeat myself, but it keeps being true: you're a fucking idiot. The problems you claim to want to solve-relief for poor Americans (and having spent about ten seconds reading what you say, I know immediately that that is fucking bullshit, too), would not be solved by cutting foreign aid to Israel to 0. In fact, if we took back all $330b in aid they've ever received over nearly 70 years, that still wouldn't solve the problems you're pretending to care about. As for 'Muslim hordes', don't pretend everyone thinks like you, shit for brains:) Even today in 2025, proud Nazis like yourself are few and far between. Not nearly as far and nearly as few as you should be, of course, which is unfortunate. Likewise with your tedious white replacement fragile bullshit. You are right about exactly one thing, though: perhaps we'd have less antagonism from Arabic Muslim countries if we'd said a further fuck-you to refugees from the Holocaust than we did during the Holocaust, or if we'd let Arabic Muslim nations (and Iran) wipe them out more than once. I'm fine with us, y'know, not having made that choice:) Make sure you keep on whining about that, bud! You're a Nazi, after all, what else do you have to do but whine about failing to wipe out the Jews? Well, that and getting your shit pushed in by the 'decadent' West and the 'Communist hordes', I suppose. Your list of things to whine about is pretty long! I guess I find it funny that Israel exists, and being a Nazi is illegal in Germany:) There is some justice in the world, at least. That being said, I'm not Jewish, and it's not my homeland. I realize that in what passes for a brain for you, to support a group means you must belong to it, but out here in the rest of humanity, that's not always true. Make sure you keep on not learning that lesson, shit for brains:) Also, seriously? You're gonna pretend to be antagonistic to genocide? I guess in your circles, people are such stupid dickriding jackasses that they'll buy into that, but again, out here even on tumblr, if you say 'no I dress like the SS', you're not opposed to genocide. Rats in a hole? Sweetie, your cult is outlawed where it started. Israel is flying daylight missions over the capital of one of its worst enemies. Mere projection, once again:)

Really puts "taxation is theft" into perspective.

I wonder what America would looked like if, for just a few years, they spent all that money they take actually on America. 0 foreign aid, just actually use tax dollars how they're supposed to be used for like 3 years, it'd be amazing.

[mr-cia-adler]

so I come back from a damn funeral and come onto tumblr in hopes to see some funny posts of the blops crew or some ghoap fan art shit to cheer me up but no I'm introduced to the sight of people arguing

here's my controversial opinion! (coming from a person who skimmed all these argument posts and isnt really THAT knowledgable on certain lore or blops ships so my opinion doesnt count on this. But, you can also see this as a complaint for hate on OCS in general), so heres your reminder that they're not real!

Russell Adler, Bell, Helen Park, Alex Mason, and more, they were designed for a video game! they are not real, they don't deserve a argument on what people can and can't do!

sure, in the story (cold war mostly), there's brainwashing, manipulation, mrd3r, toxicity, plus more and pretty much everyone knows that they are not good things! I haven't seen a single creator defend those problems and romanticise them, but that's not the problem.

what the actual problem is how the creators here are being treated. be it writers, artists, 3d designers, animators, even people who just like showing off their OCS, they do NOT deserve to have their work shit on. And i'll repeat;

They do NOT deserve it. They've worked hard to fledge out their characters, became accounted with what's right and wrong, and my personal fave, is that they don't give a shit who they ship or make! If you go out of your way to proclaim your hatred, then shame on you.

I follow quite a few amazing blogs who have planned out and fledged ocs and none of them would need any bitch ass comments from a person who thinks they know better than others just because they have different opinions and views.

There's just so many people who makes work of their ocs and adbell ships. They make Adbell content and quite frankly, good on them for doing so! They dont give a shit who they make, they do it because its fun, it allows them to show their creativity and cause a welcoming and creative space in this community

I want people to draw Adler in twink clothes and make fun of him! Send Mason and Woods to pride events and them being happy! make ships and fanfics and smut and fanart and OCS! If you want to ship Adbell, then ship Adbell! Why do you need to listen to some negative opinions when it's YOUR OC, YOUR decision, YOUR liking?

If you keep in mind the toxic negativity (we all know the plot of cold war and what Adler helped do to Bell, plus Bell's intentions before they were brainwashed, and just their relationship in general) and romanticise the wrong doings, then sure, people will look down on that ship because of it.

And I'm not saying Adler is a saint, we know what he's done, what he's like, but he's not a complete fucking monster. He's done bad things, yes, he does those things for the greator good, but he cares to a degree-See it with Woods in Black Ops 6, their interactions, hell Sims too-and isn't devoid of all human emotions. Y'all need to stop the Adler hate.

But please, PLEASE, note that they are not real, this is a fictional game with made up characters! there are also things called AU's! If people want to make an AU which changes the plot to a degree or Adbell's relationship or whatever, then do that! I just don't understand why people are getting riled up over it.

As I saw someone else say: 'don't like, don't read'. You don't like the Adbell ship? Then move on and don't take time out of your day to slag off, hurt, mock the creators for doing something they like and are passionate about.

Maybe I've got this wrong, maybe I've missed the point of the whole argument, but this is my opinion on people slagging the Adbell ship and what people do. And just my opinion on hate on OCS in general. If I'm wrong, if you disagree with what I said and have comments on it, or I missed something, tell me

And that 'Dadler bullshit' comment? (Image^)

(You do realise that Adler is actually a dad, and we don't know what he was like when he was with his wife and kid, so people are allowed to fill in the blanks! Saying Dadler is bullshit is pretty much shitting on canon, so)

also treyarch-yes, TREYARCH-literally made a Adler skin called DADLER, sooo hate all you want, dadler is actually canon

So in the return of the negative comments and how my week is currently terrible and these arguments are not helping-plus how they are judging Dadler, I'm going to rub it in people's faces and show off MY Adlers!daughter oc :)

[cuntyhunty22]

Guilty as sin (chapter 3)

Paring : Joel!dbf x reader x Tommy

Summery : things heat up. Your elationship with Tommy develops.. months go by.. things change.. things get.. well complicated..

Tags : bathroom sex , public sex (kind of) , p in v , rough sex, choking , dirty talk. Daddy kink (sorry it was fitting for this part ) fingering , slight possessiveness , sort of infidelity, pet names, probably way more but I'm drunk editing this ) just smut okay.

(Hiiii sorry it took a minute to post! If there are mistakes I apologize did this drunk: hungover and in a hurry.)🫶🏼

Songs for this chapter :

Worst way : Riley green

You belong to somebody else : Noah Cyrus

I lied : lord Huron

And of course song of the whole fic : guilty as sin : Taylor swift.

•

IYou haven't moved since Joel said those things. You stand there watching everyone, Joel and your dad playing cornhole with Randy, Sheila and dolly gossiping, Sarah and Tommy attempting to put together this sprinkler. You look back and forth between the two men. Each wonderful humans. You're sinking back to that place you were a few days ago but you can't.. You have a good thing going with Tommy it's fair to you and him to see it out. Then you wonder, why does Joel think that.. does he think he's the man for you..

You walk over to where Tommy is, he's fumbling with the plastic, Sarah giving him directions.

"Ya know you and dad build stuff for a living you would think you would be able to put this together. " she laughs as Tommy can't get the plastic to snap.

"Give me that." You take it out of his hands snapping it together no problem.

"I swear you are magic, I was doing that I don't know-" Tommy shakes his head as you and Sarah laugh at him.

"No you weren't you were manhandling it." You give him a playful push.

You didn't seem to mind when I manhandled you. " That cheeky ass grin on his face. Your jaw drops looking back at him as Sarah just looks back and forth between you and Tommy

"Shit. I said that outloud. Sarah.. uh.. " Tommy figets nervously

"It's fine... weird.. kind of.. but fine I kinda already knew." Sarah shrugs.

"Hey Sarah... wanna come with me to find liquor.? " you pull her by the hand.

You reach the kitchen, opening the cabinet finding your tequila you pour two shots.

"Here you're gonna need this..." you hand her a shot glass.

"So what the hell is happening, you left. You come back and Tommy?" Sarah's brows raise in curiosity.

"Yeah.. Tommy.." you throw a shot back pouring another. "To be honest Sarah I'm just going with whatever life throws at me.. shit at my moms was bad really bad. And then just whatever the fuck I was doing." You stand there leaning against the counter.

"Yeah I heard dad talking about it.. I also heard him grumble about Tommy going. even though he's the one that told him where your mom lives." She looks at you analyzing you for answers on that.

"Yeah.. I don't think I can talk to you about Joel.. it's still too weird..and to be honest I haven't really spoke to him."

"But my uncle isn't weird? She laughs

"Actually no.. not really." You catch yourself smiling .

"Hmmm ya know.. I kinda like it. He needs to settle down. That man is crazy."

You laugh "yeah that's what makes him Tommy though. "

"Manhandle?" Sarah cackles

"STOP. I can't breathe." You laugh uncontrollably and it felt good. You have been so caught up with everything you have missed being just a girl.

You heard the back door open as Tommy walks in. You both look at him cracking up again.

"Wow it's not polite to laugh at people." He taunts playfully.

"What are you gonna do manhandle us."

Sarah throws her hands up acting scared.

"Oh Tommy please manhandle me..." you say in a mocking voice, as he comes over to the kitchen island where you and Sarah were.

"I'm not gonna say anything you guys will just twist my words and use it against me ." Tommy chuckles.

You slide a shot over to him your eye glistening looking at him, tight jeans big belt buckle now just in that damn tank top.

You pour two more, handing one to Sarah.

"Hey now.. Sarah.. Your dad isn't-"

You cut Tommy off "don't be a party pooper. Or I'm gonna manhandle you out of this kitchen." Sarah laughs

"Maam don't threaten me with a good time. I might like that." He gives you a wink making you have butterflies.

"I know you would now shut up and take the shot."

He listens. You three cheers and shoot them back.

"Okay let's go play in this sprinkler." Sarah says.

You get up heads towards the door Sarah already outside. Before you walk out Tommy pulls you back.

"Come here" his arms wrap around you as his eyes trail down your body. You know that look.

You had this wild idea. Grabbing the tequila bottle.

"Shot?" You ask

"Why not." He smiles.

"Open your mouth." You tell him.

He just looks at you curious.

You take a big swig of the tequila then spitting it into Tommy's mouth.

"Christ woman. That was-"

You push him down the hall way into the bathroom.

"Baby.. baby what about the sprinkler."

You laugh knowing the next thing that comes out of your mouth is gonna send him over the edge "why don't you play in my sprinkler instead."

"Swear to god you are gonna be the death of me.. but at least I'll die a happy man."

Tommy chuckles.

You lock the door, immediately your mouth was on his. You didn't know what took over you but you needed him. Even if it just was a hot heavy make out session. You were in charge, your tongue sliding into his mouth, taking up every space possible, your lips sliding off to suck on his bottom lip before giving it a bite, Tommy groans as he slides his hands around your ass with a firm grip picking you up planting you on the sink.

"I want you to fuck me here." You pant as you fumble with his belt.

Tommy's pupils blown wide. "Here?" He questioned.

"Did I fucking stutter Tommy miller."

You unzip his jeans.

He lets out a growl before pulling off your shorts leaving your panties on trying to be quick. He pulls his jeans down just enough for his cock to spring out , which no surprise at all he was hard. Rock hard.

"Hmm would ya look at that." Your voice smug as you wrap your hand around his cock pre cum leaking at the tip. Tommy wraps his arms around your legs gently lifting you to a better angle. He lines himself up before fully sinking all the way in.

"Fuck woman you're already squeezin me."

Tommy's thrusts deep making you whine a little louder than you should. He lifts his hand to cover your mouth and then it hit you like Deja vu. Your brain went from Tommy to Joel to back to Tommy in the matter of seconds.

His pace was frantic you only had so long until it became suspicious.

Each thrust deep his tip kissing your cervix, your back slamming against the wall. His hand still covering your mouth, as his gaze never leaves your eyes.

"I'm moving my hand... be a good girl for me?" His smooth as silk drawl coming out low and sexy.

You nod.

His hand moves from your mouth to your throat. Gentle grip on it right amount of pressure.

"Harder." You whisper. "Please"

Tommy's eyes darken as his grip tightens a little moan slipping from your mouth as he thrusts hard as he could going deep as possible, he repeated this over and over your eyes roll back as your core burns and your climax builds.

"God you look so pretty with my hand around your throat and my cock burried in you.. Christ -" Tommy groans.

"Yeah.. tell me more.." you whimper as Tommy moves his hand down his thumb now circling your clit.

"I love how needy, how you take this cock like a good girl, how your gonna milk me dry, how I want to fuck you every minute of the day..."

You squirm under him. Your body shaking.

"Fuck Tommy. So close- I."

He kisses your jaw. "Yes baby I love those noises I love yo- fuck"

Your eyes glimmer. Your orgasm taking over. Your whole body shaking. You cup his face as he slides in and out riding through your high.

"You love me?" You smirk. "Was that what you were going to say? You know it's bad to tell a woman that while fucking her."

He laughs "would it be bad to say.." he thrusts deep.. "that." He thrusts again. "Fuck I'm - im gonna cum."

You hold his face kissing his lips as he unravels inside of you.

Tommy lets out a deep groan followed by a deep breath his forehead to yours. He takes your chin lifting it up to look at him.

"Can I say it now?" He smirks that god damn smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Yea-" your voice cuts off as you hear the back door open.

You both scramble putting yourself together trying to make it as discreet as possible. You open the door sliding out walking towards the stairs, as Tommy slides out walking towards the kitchen. You decided to go upstairs to throw a bikini top on. As you take off Tommy's shirt you see Joel's shirt still on your bed.. and you realize how fucked up that looks. You sit it down. And head back downstairs.

Once you make it to the kitchen everyone is inside grabbing food. You walk over to where Sarah is.. Tommy, Joel and your dad in the other side talking about who knows what. You look over for a moment and catch both of them staring.

"I thought you ran off again." Sarah laughs.

"Well.. kind of got distracted...." you laugh as you grab something off Tommy's plate as he walks by he just chuckles as he walks out to the patio.

"Yup got it. I swear your life is like a soap opera."

"Definitely feels that way sometimes."

You look down feeling nervous as Joel walks by.

"I know you don't want to talk about it. Hell I don't know if I want to... but all I'm sayin is maybe you need to talk to him.. alone without all the distractions.. just hash things out. It's weird seeing you and my dad not really speak."

"Yeah maybe." You shrug. "Let's get food before all them men eat it all."

Sarah chuckles. "Yup that will happen."

Once you and Sarah got your food you made it outside. Everyone sitting in their chair or at the patio table. You and Sarah opted to do it picnic style and sit on a blanket.

Once you got everything settled, Tommy plops himself down next to you stealing something off your plate. You playfully smack his hand.

"So what you can do it but I can't."

"Exactly right" you smile.

"I you two think your are being discreet, but if there was a sign that said we are fu-"

"Sarah don't you dare finish that sentence..." Tommy leans back.

"I'm just sayin." She shrugs. "I don't think anyone would care just so you both know."

(That's a fucking lie.)

Once you finished your food, you finally turned the hose on for the sprinkler. You ran through like you were a child again, giggling with Sarah. You couldn't help to notice Joel crack a smile when he looked over and that made you feel good. No matter what you never wanted him to hate you, or for things to be weird.

You ran through again this time you were met with Tommy picking you up spinning you around through the water as you wrap your Legs around his waist. His white tank top clinging to his skin. Caught up in the moment you both forgetting where you were . He kisses you. It wasn't too much but it was enough.

Welp cats out of the bag completely." Sarah folds her arms.

You both pull back staring at one another then back to everyone else. You notice your dad kinda fidget he doesn't seem mad but maybe confused... Joel on the other hand.. he already knew but now in its his face in front of everyone it's real.

He puts you down, grabbing your hand.

"Well.." you look over to him.

"Well.. want me to say it now?" He says

You just smile..

"I lov-"

Sheila comes walking over. (Great she ruins everything.)

"Well congratulations, I know this would happen eventually. I look forward to being sister in law's."

You cackle. "God damn Sheila. Yeah of course in your land of delusion."

"I don't know why you care so much about me wanting Joel...hmmm." She just looks at you and smirks as she walks away.

"God I hate that woman." You roll your eyes.

You and Tommy make it up to the patio everyone looking at you.

You decided maybe you should talk to your dad.

He's standing over the cooler beer in hand.

"Hey dad.." you walk over nervously.

"Hey sweetie, so uh-" he looks at you then back at Tommy.

"yeah.. is that okay?"

"If he makes you happy. And he treats you well then yeah more than okay. Him and Joel are like family."

Family... that word hit a bit too hard. If your dad only really knew.

You dad walks over pulling you into a hug

"Dad I'm soaked."

"I know kiddo I don't care. I'm just happy. I'm happy you are happy and home. To be honest I didn't like that guy across the pond... too girly.."

You chuckle. "Good to know dad, okay I'm gonna give change. Love you."

You walk back over to Tommy who's standing there just talking to everyone, he looks like a weight has been lifted from him as he pulls you in to him in front of everyone. His hand wraps around your waist like it's easy, like it's supposed to be.

"Hey I'm gonna go change okay?" You kiss his cheek.

"Yeah that's fine baby, I'll probably go home soon since I'm all wet.. you stayin home or? " his eyes glisten looking at you hoping you will say what he wants to hear.

"I'll stay. Let me grab a few things."

•

You walk down the hall way that leads to the stair up to your room. As you step up the first step the bathroom door opens.. you don't even have to look to know who it is. You feel him. You say nothing .. you continue up the steps.. so does he.. you slide into your room knowing he will be in shortly after. He slides in and you lock the door. You haven't been alone since the last night he was here in this room.. tangled up skin on skin begging for you.. telling you he needs you.. you stand there waiting for something to be said.. something to be done. He watches you.. watches the water drip on your skin from your hair, he watches how you are fighting things you feel. He knows you. He takes a few steps forward inches between one another. He gently takes his fingers tracing your jawline. That was enough.. just the touch of him. You fight it, and then it slips.. a small quiet whimper.

"Joel I -" you freeze.

He lifts your chin to look at him.

"I know... does he make you happy?"

You look him in his eyes "he does."

His jaw tightens. "Do you love him.?"

You remain silent. You look at him not knowing what to say.. " he loves me.."

He inches closer, his breath lingers above your ear. You can feel the heat of his body. You are taken over by the intoxicating smell of him. "That's not what I asked."

Your body is frozen. You can't move. Under the spell he as on you. Finally you gain some type of strength.

"What do you want me to say.. want me to do.." you look at him begging for some type of closure. "Joel. I don't know. I don't know anything right now. I'm - nevermind. I need to change I need to grab things I'm staying with Tommy tonight."

You go to move and he grabs your hand pulling you back his lips crashing down before you could even stop. It was urgent, it was hungry, it was desperate. His hand finds the back of your neck pulling you more into the kiss as he deepens it like his lips own you. Finally you snap back into your body you push back.

"I had to. I needed to. I'll let you go. Ill set you free... I'll let you find yourself. I'll let you be happy because you deserve to be. I'll be here in anyway you need me to be.. But I stand by what I said earlier. And if I am wrong then that's on me.. and if I'm not.. come back to me.."

His hands grip your face like he did that night. And then he walks out of your room.

•

You sit on your bed. Staring at the two shirts lying there that symbolize more than just two shirts. You needed a minute. You need silence to be in a room that didn't have a Miller in it. After you got yourself together you changed. You threw on some plaid shorts, an old beer tee your dad gave you, slipping your wet hair up. You threw some random clothes, some other self care things into a bag and went back downstairs. It's getting dark now, your dad has a fire going. Everyone is gathered around it, the air shifts as you make your appearance.

"Hey sweetheart, we were actually just talking about you." You dad says as you walk up.

"Good things I hope." You look at Tommy. Then to Joel. Then back to your dad.

"Actually yes... you know that old building in the town center.. the one that used to be a speak easy in the 20s, and it was a bakery about a year ago."

"Cynthia's old place?" Joel pipes in.

"Yeah well, it's for sale.. and Tommy was telling me about your dream." Your dad touches your shoulder.

You look over to Tommy with a smile.

"Jesus you couldn't wait to get

brownie points with him could ya."

He laughs. "Maybe.. but what did I tell ya.. I told ya that we are gonna make it happen.."

"Okay so? Building is for Sale so what? It probably needs alot of work.. and besides I don't have money to buy a building.. or to pay people to fix it.. and hell anything else. I would need equipment.. and a business license.. it's not as easy as just buying a damn building "

You look at all three of them.

"I'll co sign for you. If that's your dream. I'll do what I can." Your dad says.

Joel clears his throat, as he looks at you. "Are you forgettin I own a contacting company?"

"No of course not. But you would need paid. How am I gonna do that."

"You aren't. I'll do it for free. If this really what ya want. Plus you got that guy too." He looks over at Tommy. "Both of us would make light work."

Both . Of . Us. That statement repeates over and over and over.

"As for the other things. We will research. Figure it all out. You have people that want to support you. People that love and care for you." Tommy grabs your hand. You notice Joel's body stiffen but he looks at you with those eyes that say he will do anything. Proving his statement earlier.

"I'll help too! I'll make social media pages, help advertise! I can do that even when I'm back in Dallas. " sarah smiles.

"Fine. You guys win." You let out a deep breath followed by a big smile.

"Wonderful. I'll call in the morning.. we all will go look at it together. I'm happy kiddo . I'm happy to do this ." Your dad brings you into a hug, you hug him back tighter than usual.

•

The night comes to an end, you ended up staying at your dad's longer than planned. You say your goodbyes as you follow Tommy to the truck. In the rear view you see Joel and Sarah leaving. You hop in exhausted from the day, and honestly overwhelmed.

You stay quiet for start of the drive, you look over at Tommy. The moonlight illuminates his beauty. His hand on your thigh, where lately it seems that's where it stays. Where it belongs.

"Thank you." Your voice quiet.

"For what?" He replies gently give your thigh a squeeze.

"For loving me. For finding out about that building. For today. For how you are in front of everyone."

He's quiet for moment. He takes a deep breath in before saying what he's been trying to all day.

" I love you. And I told you whatever you need. Whatever you want. If I can do it it's yours."

You know you need to say it back. You want too because you do love him.. but a part of you is hesitant.. but you do it anyways.

"And I love you."

•

You arrive to Tommy's, as soon as his door opens he's flying over to yours. Pulling you out of the truck into his arms. His lips find yours full of need. You pull him leading the way, he opens the door and hes back on you. Pulling off your shirt, you peel off

his still damp tank top, followed by his jeans. Leaving a trail of discarded clothing.

Whole time your lips never leave one another until he's has you naked. His lips leave yours working down your jaw, to your neck. He wasn't careful, there was no need to be anymore. He went straight to that sensitive spot kissing it, then he bites. You feel his teeth graze your skin, you gasp at the pressure, at the electric shock it made through your body.

"Tommy" you moan out his name,

Knowing what it does to him.

His hands grip your hips, picking you up he takes you into the bedroom. He plops you into the bed the matress bouncing with your weight. Then he's there between your legs, his hands trace down your body to your breast, to your stomach. Down your mound he spreads your folds sliding his fingers in your slick.

"Look at this." He inserts two fingers just going knuckle deep. "So wet for me darlin... this.. fuck.. this is mine." He fully inserts his fingers now pumping them in and out curling them. He pumps them hard and fast. You arch into him, fucking your self

On his fingers, chasing that High that was building in your core.

"Yeah that's it.. good fucking girl."

"Tommy please... fuck.."

Tommy's thumb finds your clit circling as he continues pumping his fingers.

"Cum for me baby.. show me how good it feels.. wanna hear it.."

And it came.. you arch up hard as you gush out, Tommy takes his fingers out now covered with your arousal.

You stare at him. All fucked out. Your body shaking. But your eyes said differently. Your eyes begged for more and he knew it.

I need you." You whine just above a whisper like it was something sacred.

He moves to you. His hand running down your thigh as he kisses you, his tongue circles yours his lips suckig your bottom one . You feel him. How hard. His tip at your entrance, Tommy cups your face before he sinks in. A groan leaving his lips. He sinks in slow deep, like every inch had a purpose.

He moves sliding sing half way out before he thrusts back in. He keeps doing this as he mumbles, trying to keep himself from already falling apart.

"Look at me." He says as he throws his head back then Right back to looking at you.

His pace deliberate, you feel everything.

"You feel this" his hand on your lower stomach. "You feel me here.." He stares right into your eyes. "Yeah you do ya feel it. s'that good baby."

"So good, tell me you love me. Tell me please." You claw down his back as you pull him forward to wrapping your leg's around him.

His dark curls now falling out of his bun dangling above your face. his mustache tickles your lip as he leaves a hungry kiss on your mouth. Tommy's big hands cage your head, putting him at a perfect angle to thrust deeper into you than you could imagine. Once he found that he could sink that deep he didn't stop. It was different though.. he was deep and hard but it didn't feel like fucking it fell like something different because it was.

"I love you baby, I love you so fucking much.. don't you feel it. You feel how you make me."

"Yes. I love you- fuck I'm-" you were about to unravel again and you had a feeling this was just the beginning.

"Fuck my girl, give it to me. That's it." Tommy laid gentle kisses on your neck as you shook under him your climax taking over.

In a swift motion he flipped you from your back on the mattress to on top Of him.

You took a second just looking down at him, his chest glistening with sweat, his bun barely holding on, how his lips are swollen from kissing you so hard.

Your legs stratal his wait, his cock still hard, you keep staring at him, him staring at you. You caress his face as your fingers trail over his lips, down his body. Tommy groans under your touch. You lift your hip finding him before taking him in his cock sinking deep.

"You feel so good, feel so - Jesus."

Tommy exhales.

You didn't start slow, you just let your body take over, your hand on Tommy's chest balancing yourself as you bounce up and down fast and deep taking every inch as you do. It was pathetic but you were close again, you didn't know why or how.

"Just like that baby, so pretty bouncing on my cock. Fuck. Keep goin darlin. Shit- your squeezin. Close again?"

His big brown eyes staring up.

"Take it baby, take what's yours... darlin.. " He groans before you feel him fill you deep. warm white ropes. You continue bouncing chasing your third orgasm, this one hit hard, you practically seen stars before you collapsed on top of Tommy.

"Wow." You laugh.

"Yeah wow. Jesus so this is what life is gonna be like now."

He pets your head as you lay on his chest.

"Are ya complainin miller."

"No not at all just thinking how lucky am."

Tommy kisses your head .

"Pretty fucking lucky aren't we."

•

The next morning.

You could get used to this, Waking up next to Tommy, attempting to making breakfast but it burns because you can't take your hands off one another like hormonal teenagers. But that's the honeymoon phase.. what's real life going to be like.

•

You both got ready for the day, you are going to meet your dad and Joel at the building to scope it out , sign papers and come up with a plan.

Once you get there Joel is already there, waiting chatting with your dad.

Tommy opens your door helping you out you guys make tons way over to them.

"Hey baby doll, you excited." Your dad pulls you into a hug. "Tommy you taking care of my daughter." Your dad shakes his hand. As Joel watches.

"Yes sir. She's precious." Tommy lays a kiss on your head.

Your dad walks over to greet the real estate agent, leaving you with Joel and Tommy.

"Big brother" Tommy gives Joel a hug.

"Yall doing okay today." Joel asks trying to make small talk.

"Yeah alls good, how are you?" You ask, it's discreet but enough. You try to keep those feelings, that kiss locked in a box deep down.

"M'alright, intrigued to see how much work this place needs."

"Yeah me too. Thank you again. Both of you really."

Joel clears his throat as your dad comes over.

You all follow them into the building looking around getting an idea of what it needs..

"So what do you think?" The agent asks you...

"Well it's beautiful, and it can be exactly what I want.. but the question is for Joel.. is this place save-able is it worth it?

You look to him for an answer for help. You feel guilty because maybe you should have asked Tommy.

"It's gonna be a task... but if it's what ya want... we will make it happen."

Small smirk on his face.

"Dad? Your thoughts? Tommy?"

"I agree with Joel. He's smart he will make it happen, I'm here to help ya know that."

Tommy grabs your hand.

"Up to you baby doll, your dream is here if you're ready to make it happen." You dad replies.

"Okay then it's decided. We will take it."

•

3 months later.

Putting this place together has been a process.. you've spent hours getting things together. Business licenses, liquor licenses, food licenses, everything you needed. When you weren't handling the business part you spent your time with Joel and Tommy, painting the building, attempting to help them install things. Honestly you were just supervising as they did the man work. Tommy and you have been doing great.. you mainly stay at his place. You visit your dad almost every day.

6 months later.

It's late afternoon. You haven't seen Tommy in five days. He's been on a trip for Joel since Joel stayed here to help out finish up the building.. you open next month and you are on a time crunch. It's been weird without him. You are always attached at the hip. Not to mention he kind of puts a buffer between you and Joel. He checks in little bit by little bit he's been odd.. and it's starting to make you overthink.

You are at the building now.. and your phone goes off.. there is a tornado warning.. and it's heading to you fast. Outside the wind has picked up Dabris is flying everywhere as hail pounds down. The electric flickers on and off. You can't drive In this so you stay there. You find blankets candles anything you think you would need.

-incoming call : Tommy miller

- Y - hey baby what's going on I miss you.

No answer just laughing and loud music.

-Y - Tommy? Hello?

Nothing

T- shit. Hey babe. How are you.

Y - actually not great.. there is a tornado headed this way.. and I haven't heard from-

Line goes dead. "Fuck."

It's getting worse outside and you're starting to freak out a bit being here by yourself. It's to the point you can't see anything outside besides the poring of the hail and rain followed by a loud crash and your new sign falling to the ground.

"Great. Seems like that's how my life's going." You mutter to yourself.

Another bang but this time it was a bang on the door. Someone is outside in this weather.

You run over opening the door and there he was. Completely drenched right teeshirt sticking to his body, his curls wet.

"Joel what the hell why are you out in this weather."

He walks in water poring off of him.

"Knew you were here alone. Couldn't let you be. It got worse than I thought. Was just gonna take you back to your dad's or Tommy's."

He looks at you observing your body language, how you are shaking how your eyes look like you could cry any minute.

"You ok?"

You shake it off. Last thing you need is to let those old feelings resurface in a moment of you feeling down.

"Yeah I'm okay. Just stressed."

"Ok..."

Another crash, followed by the sky lighting up and the wind whistling.

"We need to go to the basement. Grab what you need and let's go."

You follow Joel down to the basement. He lights some candles laying blankets on the ground he sits. You stand there pacing back and forth.

"You're gonna run a damn hole in the floor if ya don't stop.. come sit."

"I can't sit." You continue pacing.

Your phone rings again

Incoming call : Tommy miller

Y- Tommy baby. Where are you can you hear me?

Echos of laughter on the other end of the line followed by a woman's voice. "You're just so funny Tommy."

You hang up the phone looking Joel.

"He wouldn't do that to you.. he's dumb.. but he's not that dumb.. don't jump to conclusions. I'm sure he's just out with the company. But right now that's not important. You see this."

Joel shows you his phone the weather radar and what's about to hit. F-10 tornado.

"This is what's important so I need you to sit your ass down here. We will deal with Tommy's dumb ass later."

You sit next to Joel. Silent. You don't know what to say. What to do. What if you are just reading into things. But what if you weren't. You don't think he would do that to do. He's been with you through so much but you know shit happens.

The tornado hits. It's like a freight train. Everything thing shakes around you. You start to sob overwhelming and scared that's when you feel him. He wraps you in his arms and holds you.

"S'ok just breathe." He tightens his grip. "I'm here, m'not gonna let anything happen to ya."

You melt yourself into him, letting yourself be there, letting yourself feel everything. Being scared of the tornado, scared that all your hardwork is going to be ruined, scared of what Tommy is doing, scared on how that's going to hurt like hell, and scared of how you feel right now in Joel's arms. This goes on for about 10 minutes and then it's dead silent.

You look up at him his arms still around you. You touch his face, his eyes locked on you. On your every move. And then you do something... something stupid.. some very very reckless and hypocritical.

You kiss Joel... not just a peck.. not just a scared kiss.. you kiss him with every single ounce of you... and he... he kisses you back... his hands finding your body like someone Starved.. his fingers graze the button of your jeans until your phone rings...

-incoming call : Tommy miller

You let it ring.. you look at Joel not knowing what to do.. you pull away fixing yourself like he could see you.. feeling absolutely worthless..

call connects

T - hey babe I'm sorry I've just been busy.. some of went out ..

y- well an F-10 just hit.. and I was at the building.. while some woman was saying you were so funny.

(Toxic I know. Bare with me)

T- uh yeah.. um.. that was Maria.

Y - who's Maria.?

Joel just looks at you like he knows something he shouldn't.

T- just an old friend. You okay tho? Were you at the building alone.

Y- I was.. until Joel came..

T- Joel came?

Y- yeah it's over now, I'm gonna go check things out... when do you come back.?

T- I'll be home tomorrow night.

Y-okay. Good.

T- call me later okay.. love you..

Y- love you.

Call ends.

You feel like the absolute worst person on the planet.. but now the look Joel gave you when that name was mentioned has you believing maybe you aren't crazy.

"So. Who's Maria." You look at him as you lean back against the wall.

"Maria is Tommy's ex... the one he was supposed to marry.. the one he moved to California for..."

"Fucking wonderful . All of this is fucking wonderful.. I can't even be mad.. I can't even. Jesus Joel what is wrong with us."

He leans back against the wall next to you.

"It was the heat of the moment. You were scared.. it's fine.. don't beat yourself up..l

"You are just saying that when you know.. it wasn't just that.."

Joel clears his throat getting up off the ground he reaches out his hand helping you up.

"Let's go check out the damage."

"Fine."

You walk upstairs, the inside is fine.. the outside on the other hand leaves alot to be desired... the windows are cracked, the front needs redone.

You look around taking a deep breath.

"It could be alot worse.. we will fix it.. still be on schedule to open."

You zone out not focusing on anything Joel was saying.

"Darlin.."

You look up.. it's been a long damn time since you've heard.

"Yeah sorry I'm okay."

"That's a damn lie. But I told ya. Don't beat yourself up... talk to him when he gets home. I don't think it's anything to worry about.."

"What happened to come back to me.. huh... what happened to all of that shit you said... did you even mean it."

You didn't realize at this moment you were screaming at him, people looking in your direction.

He grabs your arm pulling you back into the building , pulling you back to the kitchen. Once he gets you back there he has you backed into a corner, his breath heavy, you can feel his body heat, his Hands cup your face on both sides as he stares into your eyes.

"I meant every fucking word. I still mean those words.. but this is a line I can't cross.. and I know you can't either, god I want to kiss you again. To make love to you. Do you know how often I think about you and how dirty it makes me feel.. you are dating my brother.. you chose my brother.. my brother loves you.. you love my brother.. and I lo- shit..."

You stare back at him. You know he's right. But you needed to know.

"You what Joel." Your voice cracks.

"Nothing I can't .." Joel turns and he leaves

•

You sit on the counter.. not moving.. he's good at this.. good at saying things that hit you deep and just leave.. normally you'd have Tommy to be a distraction from that.. and then Tommy ended up being someone you love more than anything.. but in a way you think so was Joel.

You stare at your phone.. it's been 2 hours since you have heard from Tommy..

Calling : Tommy Miller

Voicemail: hey... baby.. um it's me... (you start to cry) I'm sorry I just.. I miss you.. today has just been hard and my mind is overwhelmed. Uh just call me back okay.. I love you.

You slam your phone down. How did you end back here. Back to feeling th same way you felt months ago..

•

You lock up the building, and you get into your car.. you didn't want to go to Tommy's.. being there alone right now would just be too much.. you didn't want to go to your dads you didn't wanna answer questions.. so you went to the one place you shouldn't.. and you didn't even know if you would let you in.

•

Joel's POV

It killed me to leave her. But I had to. I love her.. I was going to tell her that but who would I be to make her life more comfortable I was supposed to help her. I needed to talk to Tommy.. see what wa showing on there and why he was with Maria.. but then again should I meddle in that relationship.. would that be wrong of me..

Calling Tommy miller :

T- hello brother.

J- hey, how are ya how's the trip.

T- fine everything is going good been busy.. heard about the tornado..

j - yeah. Pretty messed up here.. speaking of.. you talk to your girlfriend.

Tommy goes silent.

T- yeah a little.. uh.. I need advice.

J- with what.

T- Maria is here.. she ended up working on the same house.. interior design. We talked.. I told her I'm with someone.. but I just I don't know I guess I can't help but to think of what could have been with Maria ya know. We were engaged. But I mean I love her.. and I know she had a bad day.. which thank you for being there for her..

j- yeah not a problem.. Tommy.. ya know I stay out of things.. I let you make your own decisions.. but really think about this one. If she's not who you see yourself with or you are having second thoughts you let that girl go.

*ding dong

J- Tommy I gotta go someone's at the door.

T- okay big brother I'll see ya.

Call ends.

Who could be here at this hour, I open the door and there you were.

"Hi" she looks at me with those eyes. And I can't resist her.

•

"I'm sorry I know I shouldn't be here.. but I was sitting there thinking.. I didn't want to go to Tommy's.. I didn't want to go to dads... and the only place I knew I'd feel safe.. was here."

Your eyes are bloodshot, your skin is pale.

"Come in. Have you ate. You look like hell."

You walk through the door headed towards the living room.

"Thanks joel I appreciate that. Always know how to cheer me up." You collapse on his couch.. the very couch where Joel was on his knees earring you like a man starved. The night that started it all.

He looks over and you swear he's thinking the same thing.

"Wasn't being mean.. you should know how I feel.. I was just sayin."

"Have you heard from Tommy? I've left him voicemails. Sent texts. Like if something has changed if he has changed his mind I wish he'd just tell me.. fuck I shouldn't talk to you about that. This is so fucked up. It's like I can't go anywhere. I can't escape this. I go here it's you. I go to Tommy's it's him. I go home. My dad ask's about everything. But you know what.. no matter what.. I crawl back to you..I end up here.. I end up with you. It's always been that way hasn't it."

Joel comes over to sit next to you. He moves your head putting it in his lap.. you didn't have it in you to object to fight. You both remain silent for a moment. His hands twirl your hair, then they move tracing your jaw.

"Joel..." you whimper.

"He doesn't deserve you.. hell I don't even deserve you."

You look at him confused on why he said that..

Your phone vibrates.

Incoming call : Tommy miller

"Don't answer." Joel looks down at you.

"Why.? What do you know Joel." He just zones out.

You pick up the phone.

"Tommy?"

"Hey.."

"Hi.. everything okay.?"

"Honestly I don't know. Um I wanted to talk about this in person but it's killing me .. Maria is my ex.. so she's here working interior design.. we talked. Was looking for closure and I realized that there is still feelings there.. and same for her.. I'm not saying I'm getting back with her but it feels wrong for me to question this.. for you to not have someone fully sure.. and I was.. I was sure more than sure about you.. until I seen her.. I just I don't want to hurt you."

You get up off the couch walking outside. You didn't want Joel to see you cry.

Thank you for being honest.. I understand actually.. I um.. I'll get my things tomorrow.. I gotta go..."

•

You hang up the phone. You had no right to be mad.. you were doing basically the same thing.. but you did love him.. maybe not in love with him they way your supposed to be but in a way he healed you. He was good to you and you like to think for a while you were good to him.

•

You sit in Joel's rocking chair staring out into the distance when you hear him come outside. He said nothing he didn't need to.. because he already knew.

"You knew didn't you.. that's why you let me in.. why you touched me.. because that made us less guilty.. I'm gonna puke.."

You run back inside heading towards the bathroom, he's right behind you, you sit on the bathroom floor putting your head into the toilet, he sits down beside you grabbing your hair as you puke your brains out.

You just look at him. He pulls you in wrapping you up.

"Joel... I'm a terrible person... I didn't even fight for him.. I just agreed.. I didn't fight because I did way worse earlier. We did that. We can't do this.."

You sob into his chest. Leaving tears marks over the fabric of his teeshirt.

"Where are you staying tonight?" He kisses your head not in an over stepping way but in a I'm here let me comfort you way.

"Honestly.. I was gonna sleep at the building.. probably wasn't even gonna sleep.. but I go there and I think of Tommy.. and you.. it's like no matter where I go I can't escape this.. and that's what my place was supposed to be."

"Then let it be that. Don't let life take it from you. Don't let whatever you feel for me take that from you.. that's the opposite of what I'd ever want."

Joel rests his chin on your head gripping you tighter as you both sit on the cold tile.

"You can stay here... I want you to stay here... this is the worst time for this but I can't stop myself anymore.. I can't control wanting you.. wanting to take care of you.. wanting to kiss you... wanting to hear those sweet noises."

Joel leans back to look at you his eyes darken.

" want you in the worst way."

His lips find your jaw, leaving hungry kisses and nips down your neck.

You couldn't fight it either.. when it comes to him your weak.. and maybe you always have been.

It didn't take long for a moan to slip from your lips, and that sent Joel over the edge. He picks you up off the floor, your legs wrapped around his waist he carries you to the bedroom.

Once you were in there he slams you on to the bed, frantically taking off your clothes. And you taking off his. His lips find your body again. Biting every single sensitive spot marking you like you belonged to him.

This wasn't soft. This wasn't making love. This was pure fucking need. You needed him to fuck you senseless.

•

Joel pushed your legs open and you already know you are soaked. You shouldn't be but you are.

Joel lets out a very sadistic laugh. You know that laugh he's about to ruin you.

"Fucking leaking out. Like you haven't been fucked properly.."

He opens your folds licking his lips at your glistening cunt, he inserts two fingers deep already hooking them inside. You scream at the stretch, the pressure and the pace he's fucking you with his fingers.

"Don't you dare fucking cum.. did he let you cum.. I bet he let you have whatever you wanted.."

you stare up at him.. maybe hearing this was too soon.. but you couldn't help how fucking turned on it made you. This is what you loved about Joel in the bedroom.. he was filthy when needed, but also loving when the time was right. He was the best of both worlds.

"Answer me." Joel pulls his fingers out toying with you.

"Please." You whisper.

"What I can't hear you darlin." Joel smacks your clit the pressure made you gush.

"Jesus Christ.. yeah that's what you want.. you want it rough.?"

"Yes" you moan out loudly.

"Fuck. On all fours.. now." Joel demands.

You do as your told, you feel him come behind you. His hands on your waist, putting himself where he wants to be. In an instant he fills you making you scream his name. He established his pace, hard fast and furious. He thrusts in and out over and over over no mercy.

"This what you wanted.." Joel takes a handful of your hair wrapping it around his hand giving him a good grip to pull you all the way back. Your body arching to where you can look at him to the pint you feel he could snap you in half.

"Answer me." He pulls your hair harder as he lands deeper that you have ever felt.

"Yes.." you scream.

"Good fucking girl." Joel releases your hair, you fall forward his thrusts staying the punishable pace.

He catches you by wrapping his arm around you pulling your top half to him. Your hips still arched in the perfect position for him to stay deep. He holds your body to his tight, his chin resting on your shoulders, his grunts and moans fill your ear.

"What did I tell you.. Months ago.. you remember .." Joel says right in your ear, his voice low, smooth.

You know exactly what he is referring to as Joel moves his hand down to play with your clit.

"Yeah.. I'm yours.. oh - my god.. yes right there."

Joel bites your shoulder.. " mine.. "

"Say it again.. who's are you.. who owns this pussy.. who is the only one that can fuck you like this."

Hearing this hits you like lightning, your core burned, your stomach fluttered. You needed to ground yourself, you gripped on his thumb as you felt yourself losing control.

"I'm yours Joel.. daddy please let me- I can't-" your falling apart right there, this was something you haven't felt before more intense.

"I know baby.. I know.. I feel you.. that's my girl..."

He holds you tight letting your body shake as you unravel, his deliberate pace slows, his cock sliding in and out through your climax. You stay there feeling him. He keeps it slow steady until you look at him. Your eyes go dark like it was you giving him the go ahead to keep going.

Joel's breathing increases, panting in your ear. You take your hand moving it to his face, cupping it holding it to your face. He moans under the touch of your finger tips tracing his skin. He slowly increases his pace with each thrust until he's back at that frantic speed.

"Fucking needy.. you can't get enough can you.."

His face next your yours, close as possible.

"No I can't.. s'good.. you fuck me so good Joel.."

He growls as he moves his hand to wrap it around your throat. You knew then that he was just getting started. Joel's grip on your throat tightens as he furiously pounds you.

"You like this huh?" He rasps in your ear knowing damn well you can't speak.

"Look at you letting me fuck you like you're nothin.."

You just nod babbling what noises you could make.

"You wanna cum again for daddy.. give me another."

And so it took over your body.. you clinch around him, your screams muffles by his hand still on your throat. Before you could even think again, joel has you flipped on to your back pushing your legs up holding them there so he can fuck you deep.

From this angle you can watch him, watch the sweat on his forehead, that one curl that always falls, how dark his eyes get and how he wears every single emotion on his face.

"Look at me.. eyes up here " Joel says followed by a few grunts. "Tell me again who's are you."

His hands grip hard, his nails sinking into your skin as he bottoms completely out hitting that deep squishy spot he stays there.

"Yours Joel. I am yours."

Next thing you feel is his body shake, his cock twitch as he fills you to the brim with his spend. He stay there for a moment before he pulls out, he backs himself off the bed to look at you, to look at the mess he's made. He leaves you for a second, going into his bathroom that attaches to his bedroom. You hear the shower turn on, he walks back out looking at you laying there, his cum leaking out. It's silent for bit, until he comes over pulling you off the bed to the shower.

You stay under the hot water, kinda of numb he lays gentle kisses on your shoulder as he washes you.

"You ok?" His voice low.

"I'm not entirely sure... but.." you stop yourself.

"But what."

"Do you think it was supposed to be this way.. us.. and we were just too stupid to make it happen so in the meantime we hurt others."

He lets out a deep breath. "Let's get you washed and some food.."

Your body tenses as you pull back from him.

"No stop doing that. Stop running away when things get hard.. that's what happened here in the first place. You just fucked my brains out but you can't answer a question as I'm standing here completely vulnerable and bare."

Joel puts his face into his hands. "M'scared ok.. you knew that.. you called me out on it at the wedding.. I try I do.. but this.. you.. me.. it's gon be hard.. hell it already is.. I meant what I said earlier I can't hold it in anymore.. what I feel.. what I've tried to not feel.. but how do we do this without hurting people around us."

You close the space wrapping your arms around him. "We do what we should have.. we figure it out.. we come up with a way to tell people.. in the meantime time.. sneak around.. which is bad but I can't be away from you anymore either. I can't fight this you consume me Joel in ways no one ever has."

•

Once you both left the shower, Joel went to the kitchen to find something to make for you to eat. You stole another one of his flannels.. as you walk out he couldn't help but smirk.

"I think this is my favorite look on ya, my flannel, panties, wet messy hair."

He walks over leaning down to kiss your lips. "Surprised you can walk."

You playfully shove him. "Shut up."

He grabs your chin. "Hey now.. don't make me bend you over the counter."

You stare back at him. "Feed me first"

"Oh so now you are hungry.. got it. So that's how it works.. gotta fuck ya silly."

He smiles.. like an actual smile.

"Yep."

You spent the rest of the night, curled up together on the couch watching some old western, eventually you fell asleep on Joel's lap. When you woke up, you were in bed... his bed.. as he's peacefully sleeping next to you as the big spoon..

Tags : @ohhoneypascal @mani-pedro @megangovier @littledes1re @shaunasrabbit @glitterspark @umadirectioner @darknight3904 @thoughtfullypinkgiver @gardeniaviolets @half-moon16 @zen3ca @drewsctover @lostboys1987girl @doblasftcisco

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

Hello! Today's my birthday, and a lot of people actually forgot about it except for my family and some friends, but they were even just meh about it, so, if there's no problem, could I ask for a one shot of L, the reader as some coworker of his, and everybody else forgot about it except for L, and at the end of the day he does a little something? It's okay if you don't, thank you for reading:3, have a great day and take care 💗🐱

hi! Because you're so polite, and because it's you're birthday, I got this out extra fast! Have a happy rest of your birthday, Hope I'm not too late 😅

you sat in your spinny chair, next to L, in front of everyone else. Your fingers were tapping rhythmically on the table, waiting. You supposed you shouldn't hold your breath, you weren't particularly close with everyone...but, just in case, you wanted to jog their memory.

"So...is anyone doing anything after work? Any big plans, or...events...?"

Matsuda looks up at you, a tilt to his head, confused as to what you were on about. "Um, I'm not...you guys don't go out without me or anything, do you?"

The rest of the group reassures him, you included. "No, not at all, I was just curious, I guess."

Mogi chimes in. "We don't have much time to do anything anyway because, y'know..." he gestures to his computer.

"Right, right," you nod. You could feel all the blood rush to your face, and a jelly in your knees and hands. You keep your eyes on your lap, on your hands, anywhere but the others.

You could feel it, though. You could feel L's eyes, boring into the side of your face. You wouldn't acknowledge, he was probably wondering what the hell you were on about.

after a few minutes, when things returned to normal, you hummed to yourself...the birthday song. Not too loud, just...maybe someone would hear, and remember.

You thoroughly embarrassed yourself with that, it felt too attention-seeking. You didn't mind attention, of course, but it felt absolutely pitiful to try and make people think of you.

The day went on as usual, you almost forgot yourself, until you found yourself refilling your coffee in the kitchen. You planned to pull an all-nighter to accompany L, get some work done, and push the idea that everyone forgot about you to the side.

Light walked in, also for coffee, and just as you were about to leave, placed a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, wait a minute, I almost forgot!"

You turned to him, putting on your best surprised face. "Oh? What is it?" You were giddy, at least one person-

"You're staying up tonight, right? I meant to ask if you'd do me the favor of refiling some of the victims, Misa wants to go on a date and you know how she gets when she's upset."

"Refiling? Oh, sure, yeah of course...I can...do that..." You smile, and he returns it.

"Thanks, you're a big help!"

And now you're alone, coffee in hand...disappointed in yourself. You get it. You're newish, not too close with the others. You didn't have a ton in common, and to be honest...they treated you differently. They'd all talk amongst themselves, smiling and laughing, but when you'd come by, someone, usually Matsuda, would say something along the lines of "guys, let's not talk about this in front of Miss (Y/n), she's a lady!"

You didn't want to be a part of conversations about other women, or whatever they think you're too sensitive for, but you wished they included you. It felt so ostracizing for everyone to go stiff when you came around, was there not one topic of conversation "safe" for you?

You shake your head, and check your phone. No texts. Not from your parents, not from your few friends...your work absorbed you, but surely they hadn't forgotten about your existence completely? They couldn't have.

You were close to tears.

With a firm shake of your head, you suck them back in, and march into the workroom. Suck it up, you had a job to do.

L, from his constant seat, watches as you stride in, all business. You look so sure of yourself as you sit down and get to work. He thumbs his lip, engrossed with you.

You can see him in your peripheral, but say nothing. He opens his mouth, just a little, but ultimately takes a breath and returns to his work as well.

Hours go by, people trickling out.

First Aizawa.

Then Matsuda.

Then Mogi.

Then, hours later, Light.

"Goodnight you guys, see you in the morning," he nods. You wave, and L nods back.

Then, to your surprise, L stands too.

"Wait, where are you going?"

He tilts his head at you, halfway twisted toward the door. "I have something to take care of. Are you alright with being here alone for a time?"

You nod slowly. Alone, working, on your birthday. Perfect.

He takes your pitiful affirmation as a true yes, and leaves you.

You don't know how long he's gone for. Maybe an hour, 30 minutes, who knows. The coffee isn't doing much, and on several occasions you nearly crash on your keyboard. For a second, you rest your chin in your hand, close your eyes...

And you're awoken by a tap on the shoulder. You startle, shooting upright. "Happy birthday," You drowsily exclaim, unaware of what's going on.

L settles in the chair beside you. Placed in front of you is a vanilla cupcake, frosted pink, sprinkled in sugar crystals, with a blue candle sticking out of the top. "Yes, Happy birthday," he confirms gently.

"What...?" You rub your eyes, still dazed.

"It is your birthday, isn't it? Yes...yes, it is," he confirms.

"I...you..."

"I wasn't sure if you enjoyed celebrating it, so forgive me for not speaking earlier. I don't enjoy celebrating my own birthday."

"This is for me...?"

"I don't know who else it would be for. Would you like to blow out the candle?" He pulls a lighter from his pocket, and switches it on, awaiting your answer.

You nod dumbly, and he lights the wick.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment.

"I'm...not a very good singer, I doubt you want to hear me attempt the song," he mumbles, assuming that's what you wanted.

And you burst into tears.

You don't know why, but you couldn't stop sobbing. It's just that you'd never expect someone like L to have so much compassion for you. Despite your better judgement, you bring him in for a hug, your arms rested on his shoulders, your forehead pressed against his collarbone.

He was less than prepared, sitting stupid as you bawl against him. An awkward hand lands on your back, a gentle pat that only agitates the flow of emotion.

"If the song is that important to you, then-"

"No, it's not- sorry, I just- sorry-" you were cut off every few minutes by the buckling of your lungs, irritatingly loud wails that only embarrassed you further.

Another pat.

You regain your bearings best you can, sit upright, and violently rub the tears off of your face with your sleeves. "Thank you, L, this means a lot, clearly."

"...you're welcome." He pokes the cupcake, prodding it in your direction. The wax was beginning to drip, bound to fall into the frosting.

You sniff, lean in, and blow out the flame. "Here, split it with me," you urge, setting the candle aside.

"No, I've had plenty of cake today," he denies.

You tear it in half anyway, as even as you can. "Are you sure? I don't mind, honest."

He eyes the fluffy cake, the thick frosting, the candy sprinkles. "...if you insist."

"I do." He takes the slightly smaller half from your hand, and you eat in silence for the better part of a minute.

Once you're done, and all the frosting is licked from your fingers, you stare at him. He stares back.

You're the first to break. "Why'd you do this for me?"

He examines your face, first your eyes, then your nose, then your lips. "Because...I would consider you a friend."

"You would?"

"I would."

"...why?"

He leans in, just a little closer. "I find myself contented by your presence. Why, I do not know. All I know is that I enjoy to be around you, and I dislike seeing you unhappy."

You felt the urge to cry again, but held firm. "That's very kind of you. I'd consider you my friend, too."

"No, you wouldn't," he murmurs.

You look to the empty plate. "Well...maybe not before, only because you're so closed off. But now that you've told me that, I think I will. Consider you a friend, I mean."

"I gathered that."

"...thank you, again, for this. It means the world, honestly."

"You're welcome," he repeats. "You should go and enjoy the last of your birthday. I don't think you find work as enthralling as I do."

A smile tugs at your lips as you shrug. "I don't have anything else to do. I'd rather spend it with my friend. Is that okay?"

He nods. "I'm not one to object to work in the office."

You laugh, and return to your keyboard. "Sorry for crying on you like that."

"It's alright."

"I don't imagine you've been cried on often."

"No, I haven't."

"Maybe I'm too emotional to do work like this."

"...no. I find your candor comforting."

[inhurtandincomfort]

Tag Game: Whumpee Writes a List of Needs

Make a post with a list of things your character needs their Caretaker to do (or not do, in terms of triggers to avoid) for them during their recovery - things that it would be difficult for them to say out loud. Could be in-character or just author's description of what they need.

Tagged by @thewhumpcaretaker, thank you! This seems super fun

I'm gonna do an in-character list from Eldwin, writing to Destrian and Ancassius

I cannot ask for forgiveness, but please, I ask for patience. I know I'm difficult to get along with. I'm going to fuck up. I'm going to relapse, I'm going to cause problems. I'm going to disappoint you, and I don't want to. That's the last thing I want. But I will, because that's who I am. I'm sorry.

I don't expect you to let me walk all over you. In fact, you shouldn't. Please just know that I don't mean any of the horrible things I say. It's okay to step in and tell me I'm going too far. It's okay to walk away. Don't let me hurt you.

Don't touch me. without asking me first. I understand there may be instances where it's necessary; I may be upset in the moment, but I understand, really. Also, could you clearly announce your presence when you get home or enter a room I'm in? I know you don't mean to sneak up on me, it's my fault I'm too zoned-out to notice, but I would appreciate it.

Try not to make sudden movements when you're close to me. I know it's not always possible, and I don't want to stifle you by asking you to be overly cautious, but... at least when you're next to me. For your safety more than anything.

I need things written down, or else I forget. I also need reminders for certain things, like eating or taking medication. I'm not trying to be difficult. I really just struggle to remember.

You know I seem to... float, sometimes. I've told you before that I don't always feel present. Or that my body is not really my own. I thought it would stop when I left the syndicate... I'm still learning how to cope with it. A quiet room helps. Aconite helps. I think she knows better than I do. Please don't shout, that just makes it worse. Maybe just sit with me. Do your own thing, but you being there is enough to help remind me I'm safe.

I know you're wary of leaving me alone, but as much as I need company, I do want some alone time too. I can't promise to stop locking my room, but I'll give you a key. Only use it in an emergency, though.

This is embarrassing to ask even through a letter, but could you stay with me during medical appointments? Please? I cannot be alone in there, I'm sorry. I swear I do try. I don't really remember what is said anyway, so... it's good to have another person listening.

I need choices, sure, but sometimes I do need you to just make the decisions for me. I know that seems counterproductive, but sometimes I freeze, and my brain just stops working and I can't think no matter how I try. Especially with other people around, I would much rather you make a choice for me than to leave me floundering with everyone staring at me.

I need reassurance a lot. Reassurance that I'm not doing anything wrong, that I'm allowed to be here. What are those shitty stories about vampires, that claim they need to be invited to do anything? Yeah, treat me like that. Without the actual vampire jokes, though. It gets really old after awhile.

Above all, just be straight with me. Tell me exactly what you mean, I don't understand otherwise. I'm not good at picking up things left unsaid and people say "oh you should have known I meant X" okay but you said Y. Just be clear and specific, with no room for interpretation. Please.

This was awesome, and a good character exercise! I would like to do more in future ;D No pressure tag: @chiswhumpcorner @cepheusgalaxy @melpomenelamusa @spookyboywhump and open tag!

[ovaryacted]

I'm not gonna say I didn't want to say anything cause I did, I wanted to as the loud mouth bitch I am, and whether or not this gets dragged out longer than it needs to be is for everyone else to decide cause I just don't care. I also am not trying to speak for other people as I say this, both my close friends & BIPOC people in general because I know many disagree with me and that's okay, but I do think I would bring it up and call it a day.

I just want to address the nonsense idea that somehow I and a handful of other outspoken people are the reason why the tlou/ppcu fandom communities on here "fell off" or are toxic and we're at fault for making this space hostile and pushing people off of the platform. That couldn't be farther from the truth.

The community had it's issues before any of us were involved, and it got worse after some of us left and stopped engaging as much for a handful of reasons: the blatant racism & microagressions that continue to be swept under the rug, massive AI scraping & AI fics being posted altogether, that dumb confessions page & everyone who keeps entertaining it, a brutal uptick in purity culture that feeds into so much discourse surrounding what people like to create, consume, interact with, joel dying and the hype around TLOU going down after S2 ended & people now have to wait 2-3 years for S3, etc. All of those things existed before anybody within "my clique" (whatever that means) started talking about the overt harm that was directed towards us from the community we were all in. Many people leave these online spaces for different reasons, some personal, and some just because being on this platform no longer brings them joy. But outright blaming the faults of the fandom on a small group of people that were equally afffected by the same issues is just crazy I mean??

I know what people have been saying & entertaining, what people have been sending me nonstop, especially regarding a post I made a few months ago that was done in a fit of rage and frustation. I do apologize for my approach on that post, and if people are that upset & want to crucify me over screenshots that involved specific usernames, then I'm willing to have a conversation about it on a personal level & apologize directly if that would be something they're open to. I also would like to add that I didn't intend to call these individual people "racists", but rather it came off as ignorant which would've been a better word to describe how I saw that post. However, I do want to emphasize that my frustation about the issue didn't just come out of nowhere. It came from months of buildup of this passive agressive attitude that came from people, whether knowingly or unknowingly, interacting with posts that come off as microagressive towards those trying to bring awareness on topics revolving racism and non-white experiences in fanfic writing.

We've had conversations for months about the racism in the PPCU & TLOU fandom and how it's been trickling down in particular to specific people, me being one of them. The whole point why all of this bullshit started to begin with is because people weren't angry or proactive enough in their allyship towards BIPOC writers and creators on here. We had extensive posts explaining these things, celebrations to uplift BIPOC writers on here, the whole nine yards. And still, we were having the same problem on the backend: racial slurs and bigoted language posted in our inboxes for just bringing these things up, subposts directed towards us, a whole lot of nonsense that just didn't add up. That was the problem.

So yes, when I made that post I was heated and frustrated from nothing in the space being changed, which at this point seems like a lot to ask for. It was worse when a lot of us genuinely did want to have a conversation about these things, or people came to us to learn about how they could be better mutuals & hold space for us. And still, regardless of what we did, how we approached the issue, our tone of voice or who we were directing our attention to, we were still met with vitriol and hateful language we were just told to ignore or block & move on.

I think the biggest issue now when it comes to all of the drama and discourse to begin with is its all being turned into "stan shit" where some users/blogs are idolized and the same goes to people's parasocial relationship towards Pedro Pascal. Like, nobody was making shit up just to start drama, nobody just wakes up one day a hateful bitch and ruins an entire community. If it was that easy for a handful of people to break or ruin an entire online community, then that community had shaky foundation. The anon feature on here is constantly being used to start shit, and I've blocked people, filtered words out, done everything on my end to just avoid that space altogether cause it's obvious I'm not wanted and that's fine, I've made peace with that. But stop saying all of this started cause me and others wanted to cause problems. Cause look, some of us aren't in the community anymore and the problems are still there. Plus, doing things like purposefully agitating the users you have a problem with to start drama for your entertainment, watching who they interact with & their "circle", and patiently waiting for them to post something you can use as a "gotcha" when they're getting dogpiled is pathetic.

The elephant in the room many of you don't want to address is that you'd rather not have any of these issues brought up to begin with. You didn't want to hear about the racism in the fandom and the messages people were getting because it's an inconvenience for you, because having people talk about these things regardless of their approach or feelings interferes with your ability to enjoy things, the same things others, including me, also want to enjoy but don't get to, not fully anyway. This goes beyond just fandom spaces and specific users and confession blogs and online discourse; but many of you want to keep things on a surface level because this online community is all you know, and that's what you'll have to come to terms with. A lot of you also won’t admit to liking drama and the fallout, that’s why you still entertain that confessions page and why you still care about what they’re saying and about who despite everyone telling others to block and keep it pushing.

Anyways, seriously if you have a problem with me personally, which is fine btw I'm not doing this to make amends or change being the villain in anybody's story, then just address me directly instead of instigating drama involving me through my mutual's accounts or that confessions blog that I'm not involved with. Like seriously, this is exhausting, and holding something as trivial as this over my head when I've seen much worse on both ends is ridiculous, but sure. Imma go finish some of these blurbs for Jack Abbot, so that's all I wanted to say.

[darkestaken]

interesting.

okay soda, i'll play. "they're aliens", "it was two years ago"— what's the excuse now.

this is still about gcldfanged // intcrpol.

no really because i'm so curious as to why your super secret crack full of incest blog has been last active in may. i want to know why despite my rules (that i'm sure you've read, like olive's and everyone else's, right?) you decided to still try to befriend me.

i want to know why you decided to one, throw a fit when i enforced my boundaries, despite my efforts in being polite towards you, when you made it a point to tell me that you were sooo fine with blocking. two, decided to vent about me for clarifying my rules. three, for then posting a try at smearing my, olive, pia and ray's name, when if you had gone quiet about it, i would have, what, told a few close friends about it, and not the entire fucking rpc.

you lied to me, you lied about me, so at this point i really do not care about your reputation anymore. you also lied about my friends, as you tried to use a weeks old screenshot of ray, way prior to your falling out, to call him out on "hatefollowing" your mutuals.

go find some likely-minded people who are cool about you writing that stuff, but you knew since day one it wasn't me. you knew since day one i wouldn't have just stood around. i'm going to put it in bold letters so you get it: my problem with you is that you broke my boundaries from the very start of our friendship and then acted offended when confronted about it, not with the type of media you consume and produce. you can do whatever the hell you want, but it doesn't mean that i have to be around you if it makes me uncomfortable. you hide behind a "dead dove don't eat", but this applies the other way around, too.

congratulations on the activism that you keep using to try to avoid accountability. fighting against incest abuse and yet still actively consuming and producing it does make you look like a fucking hypocrite in my personal opinion, though.

also you're fourty years old, for god's sake. calling me a "gen z fetus" makes you sound older than you are. go get knee replacement surgery, have some decorum.

Fourty years old man writes callout on Tumblr because people don't want to write with someone who conveniently hides the fact that they ship incest to people who have boundaries against writing with people who write incest.

I was planning to do you the grace of keeping it private, but here you are vagueing and posting a joke of a post about me and olive. I went to you because I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt and didn't want to block you without first talking to you, out of respect. You showed me none in return and are making a silly attempt at smearing my name while lying about me and my friends' character. You can fuck all the way off.

[mkstrigidae]

Sansa sketch WIP with some color tests (I don't care what GRRM wrote, I am forever and always a freckled Sansa truther)

[theblackwomb]

That thing where you're pouring a glass of your carbonated beverage of choice and it fizzes madly but you're able to pour it just so that the glass fills up at the same rate that the bubbles are dissipating and it never overspills.

Fuckin better than sex, that is.