#anyway some people were being... really fucking mean about this whole thing? calling people 'delusional' despite those ppl

[wooahaes]

i don’t like the idea of people calling fics and people who read them “delusional” since you’re hopefully engaging with it purely as an act of fiction. i think it’s okay to have celebrity crushes, especially if you’re in the same boat as me (trust issues, but i can indulge myself in the idea of a relationship when it’s something literally impossible). i think it’s okay to write/read about them as long as you aren’t crossing that line into thinking its real.

you can daydream about being held by someone without expecting to be a reality. you can read reactions of having your first kiss with someone without thinking it’ll happen someday with that exact person. fiction is something comforting to a lot of people, and sometimes using someone’s likeness (like i and other writers do) can help. i don’t claim to be writing the “real” svt or trsr or anything because i don’t know them. i gauge reactions based off what they’ve shown us of themselves.

i think it’s genuinely fine to engage with content like this as long as you’re separating fiction from reality. basically i feel like i’m writing ocs that are based off the public personas we’re shown. i can feel safe while writing these things because i know they’re not really going to happen. maybe other people feel the same way, too, or maybe they just want to escape from reality for a bit via a free medium. nothing wrong with that.

[spacegoldilocks]

The Gods Demand a Queen

Bjorn Ironside x F!Reader

Summary: You're a thrall in Kattegat, under the rule of Bjorn, who desires to one day be Queen and sit on the throne. He helps you realise these dreams, in more ways than one.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, smut, rough sex, throne sex, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, bit of choking, bit of spanking, size kink, praise, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 8.5k

The Gods have never favoured you.

You’ve been at someone else’s will for as long as you can remember. Not all of them have been nice. It’s toughened you up, though. You’ve learnt your place and your manners. You’ve learnt when is the correct time to speak, and definitely when isn’t the correct time.

You’ve been in Kattegat, under the mercy of Bjorn Ironside, for a few months now. He’s fair. You mostly stay in the shadows and out of his way. He’s not even here most of the time, anyway. You can’t really complain about your time here, even though you dream of a different life.

You dream of sitting high on a throne somewhere. Anywhere. Not having anyone to answer to. Your own thralls and slaves to do with as you please. A thousand people who call you their Queen, who sit around you, showering you with compliments and gifts. Sacrifices in your own name. A crown upon your head and your face smeared with colours that tell everyone that you are the Queen.

Alas, dreams are dreams. And you don’t dare defy the authority that lingers over you. The fate that awaits your disobedience and failure to capture the power you so desperately crave is worse than simply maintaining your fantasy. You listen attentively to the every need of the family in charge. Most notably, Bjorn.

He’s away more often than he’s here. In those moments, the throne lays empty. Practically begging to be used. At present, no queen resides in Kattegat and you long for the feeling of the throne beneath you. It calls to you like no other.

It’s more than a feeling that tells you that you belong on the throne. You feel as though the Gods have a plan for you. They keep you waiting, so you can ready yourself for when the times comes. It is a question of when not if. The Gods demand a queen for Kattegat, you can hear them.

You say Bjorn is away more than he’s here, yet today is one of the rare times he’s here and he’s active. A room full of people and many duties to attend to. Which also means you’ve been on your feet all day. With Bjorn home and his being busy, you’ve had no end of tasks to complete and requests to indulge.

It started this morning when he and his men arrived on the shores of Kattegat. You having to draw baths and prepare a feast, wash clothing and all the while do it quickly to keep time for any other jobs that might need doing. This included waiting on their every need as they enjoyed festivities for returning safely from their travels.

And so, the throne has been occupied. The only time Bjorn left his seat was to eat with his men, and he quickly returned to it when he was finished. You’d been watching him since he returned. The way he sits, spreading across the chair. Arms thrown over the sides, legs parted, head resting against the back as he looks down at everyone else.

Despite everything you feel, there’s no denying that power suits him. He makes a good king. He is fair and strong and courageous. And he is a son of Ragnar. He speaks with a loud, commanding voice when he addresses his people, thanking them for their bravery and telling them that they live to face more battles before walking the halls of Valhalla.

You won’t lie to yourself and say he’s not attractive, you’ve thought about it before. If you weren’t a thrall and spent more time with Bjorn, you like to think that something might’ve happened between the two of you. But you really have a knack for staying in the shadows, hidden, and only coming out when absolutely necessary.

Throughout the entire evening into night you’ve stayed hidden away as much as possible, watching Bjorn in his position on the throne. Gods, he’s so big. You shake the thought from your head, feeling the pain in your shoulders from so much time racing around today. Your back is killing you. But it’s getting very late, not long and you should be able to go to bed. Not long, you tell yourself. Everyone in the hall should be getting tired too, a long day of celebrations after an even longer time travelling.

They start disappearing in small numbers. Many women leaving in the arms of men, some already married, others seeking comfort in one another just for the night. You’ve made it your business to become familiar with a lot of people around here, not just so you can be a good thrall, but just in case. In case of what, you don’t know. You just think it might be good to have a good indication of who people are, and what they do, in case you need it.

Eventually, there’s only you, a few other slave girls and a handful of men, who are outrageously drunk. They’re so loud. They shout and bang their fists and cups on the table, spilling their drinks and making an even bigger mess that will need to be cleaned up.

Bjorn looks almost fed up, scowling as he watches the men from his seat. He holds his chin, elbow propped up on the arm of the throne. “That is quite enough.” He calls.

All eyes shoot to him. The men look like they want to argue back at him, but ultimately know better than to do so.

“Finish your drinks and leave. Everyone needs their rest.” He gestures around the room, even though there are only a few men, all concentrated on the table nearest the fire. “We have a long few days ahead of us.”

They chug their drinks, not wanting to disappoint or annoy Bjorn any further. They leave one by one, as soon as they each finish drinking, bowing to him before swaggering out of the hall.

You and the other girls are expecting Bjorn to up and leave, letting you all take care of the mess in the hall. But he doesn’t.

You each look at one another from across the room, spaced out along the walls. You’re all as confused as each other, trying to look for someone, or something, to take a cue from.

One of the girls, directly across from you, begins to move. She steps forward gingerly, looking at Bjorn as she does so for any sign that he wants everyone to remain as they are. It’s incredibly tense. This has never happened before. You’re waiting for his voice to boom and echo throughout the mostly empty room, telling the girl to return to her place.

His eyes flick to her, watching as she goes to the table, picking up as many items as she can carry, before returning to stare at the ground, lost in thought and twiddling his fingers. He doesn’t seem to have a problem - you’d know if he did.

And so the rest of you follow her lead, carrying things out of sight to clean and making the hall look more presentable after being thoroughly worn out by the returning warriors.

Your whole body aches. Your back, your feet, your head. Everything. At this point, you just want to sit down. The soles of your feet are probably worn from standing, walking, rushing from one place to the next.

You take any little milestone you can get. You told yourself everyone in the hall would leave and they did. Check. Now it’s four more tables to clear, the fire to put out, the goblets and cups to leave soak. The list goes on.

You and the other girls are dotted around the hall, cleaning and collecting different things when Bjorn gets up. You all make it your duty to not look at him.

Do not make it obvious that you were waiting for him to do something.

You hear him make his way across the room, his heavy boots making the wood underneath him creak, thumping across the stone floor as he descends from the elevated throne. His footsteps stop much too early for him to have already left the room, let alone the building. It’s unbearably quiet.

You audibly gasp when you hear whispering voices - much too quiet for you to understand what they’re saying, and thankfully they’re too far away for them to have heard your embarrassing gasp. Although, you immediately recognise one of the voices as Bjorn’s. Gods, you’d love to turn around to see what he’s doing. His behaviour tonight is continually fascinating.

You try your best to keep going with your task. ‘Just clean the table’ you tell yourself. ‘Focus on that. There’s a stain, try to get it out. Pay no attention to the-‘. Now there’s two sets of footsteps. One Bjorn’s, the other one of the girls. Is she leaving?

The stain. You scrub at it, trying to ignore the way Bjorn’s footsteps stop again. Followed by more whispering. And more footsteps. What the fuck is going on?

You think another one of the girls has left too. You scrub harder at the stain, thinking that perhaps if you channel enough of your remaining energy into removing it then your brain won’t have any to think about what Bjorn may or may not be doing.

Gods, why are you so on edge? Would you be this tense if you could actually see what he was doing? Shit, is that more whispering? And it’s closer. Maybe if you stopped scrubbing the table so loudly you could just about hear…

No. The stain.

Fuck, what is happening? In the room, to the girls, to Bjorn, to you.

You can probably guess what’s happening to you - you’re tired. You’re becoming delusional from being so exhausted by today. You’ve worked hard. You’re still working hard. This damned stain. You’re working so hard to remove it, to distract yourself, you’re only now feeling the way your shoulder is pulling from the harsh movements of your arm.

The stain’s probably gone. You lift your arm up to check and, sure enough, it is. Surely, you’re done for the night now? You’re exhausted, the long hours you’ve worked today are starting to catch up with you. You want to sit down. You want your bed. You want to rest. You want the hand that’s just started rubbing circles across your back to keep doing it. Gods, you could fall asleep right here, the motions lulling you.

Fuck. You flash back to your reality, your head whipping around as Bjorn’s eyes meet yours. He looks aggressive, towering over and shrouding you against the table. His hand rests on the small of your back as he just looks down at you. Maybe its your exhaustion, or perhaps its seeing him this close up for the first time, but Gods is he gorgeous.

Well, you’ve always thought he was handsome but something about seeing the many scars on his face that you’d never had the privilege of seeing before, and the brilliant blue of his eyes somewhat dimmed in the firelight, and the coarse hairs of his beard like this snaps you awake. His smile breaks through the tough exterior he presents, making you relax just a little bit.

The next words that come out of his mouth take you by surprise more than his hand that smoothes across your back. “Have a drink with me.”

Have a drink with him? You probably look insane because you just stare at him. Completely dumbfounded. Somehow you manage to nod your head, letting him lead you away from your lovely, clean table to a slightly dirtier one. At least he appreciates your hard work.

You set yourself down on one of the benches by the fire, resting your arms on the table to try to find a comfortable position where your back doesn’t ache. Bjorn, meanwhile, crosses the room, fetching with him two cups of ale. He sits down right next you, leaving a bit of space but not much.

He looks at you quizzically as he takes a gulp of his drink, whilst you sip. “What is your name again?”

You’re not surprised he doesn’t remember, it’s been many months since you last spoke to him outside of his instructions to you. You answer him between sips of the ale. It’s not your favourite drink in the world, but you like it. And you’ll probably get a small buzz off it between your sleepiness and the lack of water you’ve drank today.

“Hm,” he hums. “That was it. You have been here for several months now, no?”

You can’t help but wonder why he’s sat with you, asking you questions about yourself. Is he expecting you to ask questions back in return? You don’t think there’s a thing you don’t know about him. He is the king, after all.

You nod. “And what do you think of Kattegat?” He swigs from his cup, eyes staying on your face as you carefully consider his question.

You have nothing negative to say about the place, but you still try to choose your words carefully in case you say the wrong thing. “I think it is lovely here.”

He stays silent, willing you to keep talking.

“The people are nice, the food is good. And it is a beautiful place. There is much to see and do.” You elaborate.

He smiles under his beard, nodding in approval at your answer. You sip some more, waiting for another of his questions. He gets up to refill his cup, having finished it rather quickly. He checks yours, seeing it still mostly full, and walks across the room.

Just when he’s about to sit back down, he asks you another question. “And what do you think of the King?”

Your heart starts hammering against your chest - what sort of question is that? Moreover, what the fuck does he expect you to answer if not praise? You see his kind smile has turned into a devilish smirk when you look at him. Are you imaging it or has he sat ever-so-slightly closer to you?

You straighten yourself up, ignoring the painful tugging of your shoulders. “Well,” you begin. “I think that he is just, and fair. And that he makes a good leader.”

The smug look on his face stays, not bearing to stay silent long enough for you to make the decision to keep talking on your own. No, instead he insists you keep feeding his ego as soon as you take the smallest break in talking. “Go on.”

This time it’s you who smirks at him. “I know he is a fierce warrior. And I think that he looks rather good on the throne.” You mean the last remark in that the symbol of authority suits him. But, if he decides to take it … another way, then that’s up to him. Either way, you don’t mind what he interprets the comment to mean.

He looks away from you, chuckling, but giving nothing away. It makes you laugh a little bit too, any tension from earlier having melted away with your easy interactions.

It doesn’t last, not for you at least.

“Tell me, have you ever thought about what it would be like to be Queen?”

With one single sentence, you feel as if he can see right through you, right into you. Fucking of course you have, but how should he know? How can, in one sentence, he be able to floor you like he this, to ask you a question so unintentionally personal? One that pulls something deep within you, something you’ve never voiced to anyone and suddenly now it’s being unearthed by the one person who you should never have to confess it to. Not that you necessarily need to confess the degree to which you have thought about it, but even the insinuation that you have is enough for you to begin flustering, muddling any answer that comes into your head into an unintelligible mess that you can’t verbalise.

You’re quiet for much, much too long. You need to say something. “I’m sorry?” You settle for pretending not to understand.

But it’s no use. The damage caused by you silence is done. His jaw rocks to the side, clenched so hard his jaw bone juts outs under his beard. “So you have.”

Your drink lays forgotten, only serving as a distraction for your anxious hands as you fidget with the rim of the cup. You avoid his gaze, unsure how to act. Then again, surely everyone has dreamt about being king or queen? Maybe not to the degree you have, but doesn’t everyone strive for power? You hold your head up a little bit, feeling slightly reassured by your own line of thinking.

You keep your eyes trained forward, though. He tips his head to look at your face and you can just feel the way he’s smirking at you. He’s left you looking so stupid, stewing in your own thoughts.

“Come with me.” Is all he says as he swings his legs over the bench to stand up. When you look up he’s waiting, hand held out for you to take.

You get up, smoothing your dress out and taking his hand. He guides you out to stand with him on the other side of the bench and leads you towards the very far end of the long room. Towards the throne.

Your eyes flick from him, to the throne, to him again - back and forth as you walk the length of the room.

He stops at the chair and you stop with him, still with your hand in his. Is he doing this as a display to taunt you? Show you up close what you can never have? It’s fucking cruel if he is.

You wait for him to do something so you can take a cue from it. You look up at him and he simply motions with his hand to the throne. You frown, waiting for more information from him. “Sit.” He says.

Sit? On the throne? On his throne? Gods, is this some sort of test? Is he giving you a taste, a mere crumb, of how it might feel to actually have power? Or is he just pushing you to see how far you’re willing to go to obey him? It’s his throne, it belongs to him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone else use it - not even while he’s away, far gone on a raid somewhere.

He drops your hand, using his own to push gently on your shoulders. He spins you around, pulling you down to sit on the throne as he stands behind you.

The room looks huge from this position. Slightly elevated above everyone else and able to see everything and, should the room be full, everyone. It’s comfortable too, and big. You expected as much, Bjorn doesn’t even fully fill the chair and he’s the biggest, broadest man you think you’ve ever seen.

He lowers himself to your ear behind you. “How does it feel?”

‘Correct’, is what you want to say. “Good.” Is what you settle for.

He straightens back up, placing his hands on your shoulders. He’s so big, and he’s putting far too much weight on your already sore shoulders, causing you to wince. “Are you alright?” He asks, alleviating some of the pressure.

“‘M fine, my back hurts is all.” You try to make it not seem as bad as it is, but truthfully you’re in pain.

“Let me help.”

“N-no, it is fine, really.” You lean forward to get up from the throne just as he starts using his thumbs to dig right into a tight spot in the middle of your shoulder blades. You let out a groan at how good it feels, closing your eyes and slumping your head against the back of the chair. Any desire to get up leaves you as Bjorn works the muscles at the back of your neck.

“Tell me if it is too hard.” The calloused pads of his fingers trace firmly across the tops of your shoulders, barely grazing your collar bones as his thumbs work into the top of your back.

It’s a power trip. You sitting on his throne whilst he massages the knots out of your back and shoulders. It’s getting you high, and you open your eyes to look out across the room. You imagine how it would look full of people. Like it was earlier tonight. Packed full with people there to see you. You'd kill for it.

Gods, his hands feel so fucking good and they spread across your shoulders so big. Your eyes flutter back closed, wanting to enjoy his touch without much other sensory experience.

You’re reluctant to acknowledge the fact that it’s turning you on, too. The pain of him rubbing away the aches mixes with just how amazing his warm hands feel against your bare skin. It makes you moan, forgetting where you are as you revel in his hands taking the pain away from you, leaving only traces of his touch behind.

He focuses on your arms now, the clusters of dull ache now gone from your back. His palms work down your biceps, squeezing your soft flesh over your clothes and coming back up to massage your shoulders. His fingers spread out over your chest, rubbing the skin there. You hum under his touch, which he can probably feel reverberating on your chest under his fingertips.

You didn’t tell him your chest hurt, but he spends time concentrating on manipulating your flesh there anyway. His fingers dig into the bones, coming up momentarily to wrap his thick fingers around your neck, squeezing before dipping back down. He repeats this a few times, making you whimper every time he does.

“Is this good?” He whispers from behind you.

You moan out a small ‘yes’, letting him continue with his handy work. His splayed hands come further down your chest, beginning to dip below the necklace of your dress. Your heart beats faster and fuck, you’re wet. You’re trying not to let it get to you but in this moment, you’d let him do anything to you, you realise.

You furrow your brows, trying to push it to the back of your mind, but his hands keep working further and further down, in tiny increments. You swear he’s going to reach your breasts any moment. But he doesn’t. It feels like he’s teasing you. In fact, he goes anywhere besides them. He massages the skin directly above them, kneading into it with the heel of his palm. Then, he dips his fingertips deep into the neckline of your dress, drawing a long, hard line through the middle of your chest, dragging between your breasts. He starts near the bottom of your sternum, feeling the rapid beat of your heart as you try not to think about the warmth pooling between your legs.

You don’t see the way his jaw clenches as he realises how rousing you’re finding this, being groped and touched by him. He told himself he wasn’t going to take it any further, but he can’t help himself. Not when you respond to his touch like this. All the little moans you’ve been making, and the way your heart thrums against your chest. He wants more from you. He wants to hear and feel more of you. Fuck it, he thinks.

He touch leaves you, and you feel yourself come down slightly from a high you didn’t even realise was so severe until it cuts short. You open your eyes to see him walking around to the front of the throne again. He extends his hand to you, much like he did earlier, and you know its your signal to get up from the throne.

You take it, feeling no pain whatsoever in your back, nor shoulders, when you hurl yourself from the comfort of the chair.

He surveys you, using his free hand to cup your cheek. His touch is intoxicating. You don’t know what it is, but the way his hands feel on your skin makes you chase the warmth of him, needing more than the short strokes he gives you. You lean your head into his palm, only slightly but enough to indicate your interest to him.

He’s trying so hard not to give into the part of his brain that tells him to kiss you and to touch you even more. But he hasn’t done well at fighting it up until now. And, unless he’s deluded, you want this too.

Your chest rises and falls, waiting for him to do something. It’s not your place to. His hand stays holding your cheek. It’s so fucking big. It’s big enough for his palm to cover your entire cheek. Gods, his hands were big enough to almost spread out across your chest. His long, thick fingers working at the base of your neck and down past your breasts. Your mind drifts as you stare at him, thinking about how they might feel somewhere else.

His hand drops from your cheek. You think he’s going to walk away and leave you desperate for his touch again. Instead, he sits back down on his throne, looking up at you as he settles against the back of it casually.

Fucking Gods, if he keeps looking at you like that you’re going to jump on him. It’s him that made you feel like this anyway. You were perfectly content to go to bed after finishing cleaning, but no. He had to ask if you wanted a drink with him, and ask you questions, and fucking massage you as you sat on his throne.

He keeps looking at you, considering what to do next. All he knows is he wants you out of your dirty, worn clothes. He flicks his hand up and down, gesturing at them. “Take it off.” He tells you.

Finally, you think, trying not to be too eager in removing your garments.

You start with your shirt, unhooking the top few buttons to allow you to slip the long sleeves down your arms. You let the sleeves fall and the rest of the garment goes with it, left in a heap at your feet. You’re completely revealed for him, your body glowing from the light of the fire behind you.

His cock twitches in his trousers upon seeing you bare before him. He’s trying not to be too obvious, trying to be patient in looking at your body, but he’s greedy. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin that he can see.

You look down at the slight tent in his trousers, smirking at him. He returns it, curling his finger at you to beckon you forward. You’re much too far away, he wants to let his hands explore you. Much further than they already did.

You walk to him, meeting his hands as they come up to hold your tits. Those big fucking hands that trace under the swell of your breast. That grope at your flesh, and his thumbs that brush over your nipples, hard in the cool night air that makes its way into the hall.

He alternates between pinching your nipples, pulling them so hard it almost hurts, and soothing them again by gently rubbing over them.

Everything about this feels so dirty. Displaying yourself to Bjorn. The literal king. Offering yourself to him naked like this whilst he sits completely clothed on his throne. You know you’re probably not the first thrall he’s done this with, but it’s a first for you. And you actually like it. It’s a thrill. Whimpering at every roll of his fingertips over your nipples.

You ache for his touch somewhere else, trying to subtly squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the ache. He doesn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry, taking his time to study every detail and flaw in your skin. It could be ages before he touches you elsewhere - if he decides to touch you elsewhere.

He pinches you again, but you’re so sensitive from his hands that you yelp, chest jumping under his touch. He looks up at you, looking at your face for the first time since you removed your clothes as he leans forward, enveloping your breast in his mouth. His tongue is hot but does wonders to soothe the slight stinging. He maintains eye contact as he swirls gentle circles around your nipple, leave a small bite before he moves to work on your other one. His beard scratches at your skin as he moves his mouth, melting in with the pleasure he's already giving you.

You snake your arm around his head, holding him to you as you watch him in awe. He’s an expert with his tongue, flicking and drawing patterns over the peaks. He moves on from focusing all of his attention on them though, sucking sloppy wet kisses into the bouncy flesh on your tits. He travels the kisses across your chest, leaving you glistening with his saliva. He goes down, grabbing at your hips as he traces his tongue down the centre of your breasts to just above your navel.

You want him to go further, resisting the want to buck your hips towards him to will him to go on. He draws his head back, his hands still resting on your hips.

He shifts his gaze down, watching his own movements as his fingers move across your lower abdomen, combing through the curls that lead him down.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

You nod. Gods, it’s more than okay. You’ve been waiting for him to touch you for the last … how long? You’ve lost all sense of time. All you know is you’re needy for him.

His tips of his fingers travel further, stilling as they reach the beginning of your slit. He lifts his head, studying how your face contorts in pleasure as he moves his fingers again, pressing one of them against your clit.

He pushes his finger down further towards your entrance, feeling how wet you are there. He smiles at this, satisfied knowing how turned on you are for him. He drags his finger back through, now wet with your slick, using it to draw an irritatingly weak circle around your clit. You try to push your hips further forward for more pressure, but the hand that remains on your hip prevents you from doing so.

Your breath staccatos as he pays not nearly enough attention to your throbbing clit. You moan at the loss of contact when he removes his hand from your cunt altogether, spinning you around so your back, and ass, face him. He almost pushes you over as he grabs handfuls of your behind, spreading your cheeks apart to really get a good look at you.

All you need is just a little push, a minute or so of strong, steady work on your pussy to send you over the edge. He’s intent on making you wait though. It’s cruel, you think. He knows what he’s doing to you - he’s fucking felt it. It’s sadistic. Making you wait. Teasing you.

He kneads your ass, his thumbs dipping into the space between your cheeks, so close to where you need him but never quite reaching there. It’s torturous. You know if you push your rear out against him, it’ll probably result in a longer wait before he properly pays you the attention you desperately crave. And so you stay just as you are, letting him manipulate your flesh as he so pleases. You can wait, you tell yourself.

Suddenly, he takes one of his hands away, using it to place a hard smack against your ass. You cry out as you feel heat rising where he’s slapping you. It stings and you’re surprised you like it. He watches your body shake, eagerly awaiting more. You clench around nothing as he lands another one. And another. He huffs a laugh, seeing how your body jolts at every strike, continuing to land a few more as he pleases.

He seems satisfied with his work on your behind, raising his hands to your hips once again. He places a soft kiss on your burning skin and then you’re being hurled backwards, landing on his lap.

He immediately starts attacking your neck with tongue and teeth, hands roaming around your stomach to pull you into a comfortable position on him. He then uses them to pull your legs over both of his, spreading them to give himself access to your body.

And he makes sure he makes the most of it. He grabs your tits, letting your head roll onto his shoulder as he continues his assault on your neck. You feel your skin going tender as he sucks harsh spots against the delicate flesh there. You feel the irritation there as his rough beard scratches your skin, with the potential to leave your skin marred.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He whispers between sloppy kisses.

“Gods, please.” You moan in response.

“Where?” He grabs your hand, placing it over his and pressing firmly, letting you guide him wherever you want him. You take his hand down, letting it hover over your trembling cunt. He nips at your jaw. “I thought so.”

He repeats his motion from earlier, pressing a single finger against your clit, but instead of only dipping down to your entrance, he opts to slide an entire finger into you down to his knuckle. Your back tries to arch away from him, but he keeps you locked down against his chest with his spare arm.

He pumps the finger in and out of you, making the most obscene squelching sound from the warm wetness he uses to ease the movements of his digit. Your arms lay useless at the side of you, letting him do all the work to pleasure you.

He adds another finger, scissoring the two of them inside you, stretching you open as he brings his thumb down onto your clit. To go from one lone finger to this makes you cry out, hips spasming from the shock. You can’t help moaning with how he works your pussy, curling his fingers to hit a spot deep inside you that makes you feel dizzy.

“If you keep being so loud people are going to hear you.” He warns.

“Maybe I would like that.” You retort, bucking your hips as far as you can with him restricting your body’s movements.

You feel his cock twitch against you as he snarls into your ear. “Such a filthy girl.” One of his hands begins snaking its way towards your throat, grabbing at it harshly to cut off any noise that tries to escape your mouth. “But as much as I like hearing your pretty sounds, I need you to be quiet.”

The moans get trapped in your throat, and you can’t warn him of your oncoming orgasm. It starts creeping up on you, burning low in the pit of your stomach as his hands work to push you further and further. You hit at the hand on your neck, trying to get him to let you go.

He loosens his grip but the fingers inside you work faster to make you cum. “What is the matter?”

“Close.” Is all you say, the oxygen able to reach your brain again momentarily before he constricts around your neck again.

He nods into your shoulder, kissing you there as he pumps, nudging your clit with his thumb as he does so. The way you make the smallest noises that he feels trying to escape beneath his fingers makes him groan. You’re making him so fucking hard. Your pussy clamps down around his fingers, preparing for your climax when he slows his movements down entirely, sending you spinning away from coming. He removes his fingers from you, bringing them to trace small wet circles around your nipples, as his other hand eases its grip on your throat.

It takes you completely by surprise, only seconds away from finishing when he rips it all away from you. You’re breathless, asking him why he stopped. “I didn't cum.” You tell him.

“No, I know.” He laughs the deepest, filthiest laugh you think you’ve ever heard in your ear. “You’re not coming yet. I want you wetter before I make you cum on my cock.”

The words hit deep inside you, making you clench on instinct. So this is what he wants to do? Prepare you to take him. Or maybe he just likes seeing you squirm and fidget on his lap, completely in control of your body.

Either way, it’s doing wonders to keep you wanting him.

He slowly drops his hand back down, bringing the same two fingers into your warm heat. He leaves your clit alone, focusing all his attention on dragging the rough pads of his fingers against the sweet spot inside you. He curls them, hitting just where you need him to every single time. It’s bliss and before long your walls start fluttering, a sign of your peak.

He feels it. He feels how your pussy starts spasming around his fingers, clenching the very tips of them as he pushes them so fucking deep into you. He loves this. Getting to push you further and further. He wants you begging for him to let you cum. Begging for him to fuck you and let you cum all over him. He wonders how many times he can edge you before he gives in to your sweet little cries and pleading eyes.

Both of you knew it wouldn’t take long for your high to burn back up as quickly as it diminished. It makes you crazed, letting your loud moans fill the hall with nothing around your neck to stop them getting out. He works faster, now knowing how you respond to being so close, pushing his fingers into your opening and using his other hand to absentmindedly play with your tits.

He knows now how to work you up unbearably quick and strip it all away before you're pushed too far - and it’s exactly what he does. As you're sent hurtling forwards towards your high once again, he takes away his fingers, leaving you edged again.

You slump back against him and let your head rest on his shoulder, already exhausted from the whiplash of pleasure and it being stripped away before it’s able to consume you.

He rolls your head towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead. “You’re doing so well.” He praises. He rubs your thighs, waiting for the right time to start playing with your cunt again. It’s surprisingly soothing.

He waits for your breath to become steady and for your body to cool down. You’re worked up beyond belief

Your body’s covered in a cold sweat, worn out from all the edging he’s putting you through. You don’t even know how much more of this you can take. How much more you can tolerate before you take matters into your own hands, giving yourself your own release. It sounds good, but truthfully? Waiting it out for the prospect of being fucked by him? Gods, it sounds a thousand times better. You can’t see it but you can just feel how big he is, his cock pressing hard into your back. You want to feel it stretching you, filling you in a way his fingers fail to achieve.

He decides you must be ready, because he takes two fingers to rub against your clit. Your hips buck up, the nerves in your clit overworked and yet desperate to chase any contact to give them release. Your moans come out frantically, whimpering in your slumped position lying against him as his hot breath fans over your face.

His fingers work around your bud with ease, using the excessive slick you’re producing to slip through your folds. He loves this, watching how your body looks, so worked up. You’re shining with sweat, an icy sheen over your entire body, coating your chest, your legs. Beautiful.

You’re so sensitive and you haven’t even cum. You writhe in his lap, waiting for the moment you feel yourself about to peak and trying to prepare for the eventual fall away from it. You know it’s going to happen. He told you he wants to fuck you through your orgasm, so you know you’re about to be denied three times in a row.

You feel it, again. Your clit becoming more and more needy as his fingertips swirl around it. Your back starts to arch, preparing for a climax that’s not going to happen. You push his hand away on instinct, already accustomed to being denied your high. The quick movement of your hand takes you both by surprise.

You keep a firm grip as your fingers lock around his hand, keeping it held hovered above your pussy. Your eyes flutter closed. You know you can’t take another round of this … whatever it is. Fucking torture.

“You learn fast.” He remarks, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, your orgasm slipping away from you for the third time.

“Please, let me cum.” You plead with him.

“Here, get up.” He helps you to your feet as you stand on weak, shaking legs.

You get up, feeling just how wet you are at the apex of your thighs as they press together for the first time since he pulled you onto his lap. They move together, sticky, as you pad around to face him.

He’s spread out across the chair, just as he was earlier when you saw him. The only difference is the huge bulge in his trousers, and the wet spot - evidence of the messiness between your legs.

He dips his hand below the loose waistband of his trousers, pumping himself without you being able to fully see. With his other hand he pulls you by your hips onto his lap, facing him this time. You place your knees in the free space left on the throne on either side of his legs. You reach your hand to meet his in his trousers and feel how big he is for yourself.

Your hand can barely wrap around his girth. You give him a hard tug, making him grunt. It’s like music to your ears. Finally getting to hear the noises he makes, instead of him pulling the sounds out of you as he denies you. He twitches in your hand as you free him from the confines of his trousers.

And if you couldn’t feel it in your hand, you fucking see it. He’s huge. You bite your lip, anticipating the difficulty you’re going to have letting him fuck you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone this big before, let alone let them inside you.

You look up at him, seeing how smug he looks knowing you’re gobsmacked. He knows he’s impressive. Just knows you’ve never seen a cock that big. He probably knows you’re going to find it hard to take, too.

So you’re determined to take it. And you’re so fucking ready to cum. You need it.

You rise up on your knees, lining him up with your entrance. You're wet enough, but even the nudge of his head against your opening makes your mouth fall open. He pulses in your hand as you stay there, trying to let your cunt adjust to the intrusion.

The way he stretches your tight hole makes it sting. But you can’t help but think it feels fucking amazing - he fills you so well as you sink down onto him. A different kind of pain and pleasure mixture than when his big, warm hands were caressing your shoulders and chest, earlier. It’s not warm and soft like that, it’s blazing hot and fiery, perfect around him as he throbs.

Your hands find their way back onto his chest, confident that he won’t slip out of you by accident. You move up and down on just the top half of his length, taking yourself further down with every jolt of your hips.

The hands on your hips still you as you move down on him. “Do you want me deeper?” He pushes his hips up, nudging his cock further into you by a mere fraction. “Tell me, is that what you want? You need me to fill you?”

Fucking of course it’s what you want, you want to feel him all the way inside you. You want to be able to feel him when you walk tomorrow. You’re just nervous at having to take all of him. “Yes, just go slow.”

He stays holding your hips, lifting his hips up to push into you. He loves watching it. Loves how it feels. How your tight heat clenches around him as he pushes into you. He takes it slow, like you asked, gently lowering you back onto him a little as he watches himself move inside you. You’re almost there and he thrusts the rest of the way into you, burying himself to the hilt.

You mewl, completely filled by him now. You roll your hips against him, feeling every time his head moves against your walls and nudges against your cervix.

“F-Fuck. Bjorn -“ you begin.

He feels your thighs clenching on either side of him, a sign that you’re about to cum. “Do it.” He says. “Cum for me.”

The relief washes over you just as your orgasm does. Your body jolts forward, unable to hold yourself up anymore. You cum hard. So hard. He feels his cock get flooded with more of your arousal as you squeeze him with the flexing muscles in your cunt. Your eyes roll back as you hold yourself against him for security, clutching onto him hoping to ground yourself against something.

He keeps moving his hips against your writhing ones, dragging his cock inside you. It makes you scream. The sound gets muffled against his clothed chest as you crumple into a spent heap on him.

You feel more than hear the guttural moans that escape Bjorn as he feels you coming undone so hard on his lap. The sounds reverberate in his chest underneath you and he holds you close to him. You nuzzle into his chest, letting him take over the movement to chase his peak now that you’ve reached yours.

He meets virtually no resistance from your cunt now, easing in and out with your slick and the slackness that came with your orgasm. He thrusts a few times before starting to hammer into you with zero remorse.

You try to thrash out, but he’s holding you so tight against his chest that there’s nowhere for you to go.

“You didn’t think I was only going to let you cum once, did you?” He growls into your ear. “You worked so hard, you deserve one more.”

Your arms are trapped under the weight of your upper body, all of which is held flush against him as his arms wrap around you. He holds you in place as he brutally fucks up into you, his skin slapping against yours and making the filthiest smacking noises that echo around the empty room.

You relax against him, feeling every inch he buries into you and letting yourself be carried away by the euphoric way he’s making you feel. You swear, no one’s ever made you feel like this.

He notices the way you go slightly limp against him, using the opportunity to keep one arm around you and wedging the other between the two of you. There’s just enough room for him to reach his middle finger up to stroke over your clit in perfect time with his thrusts.

There’s no sound that escapes your mouth when you open it to cry out. Only a hoarse, throaty moan that gets caught somewhere. Tears form at the corners of your eyes as you feel another peak approaching. It’s debilitating. Your cunt's been teased so many times and then allowed to cum, it’s as if it doesn’t know how to deal with the oncoming climax. You clench, drawing higher and higher and higher, waiting to be dropped down to your pleasure.

When you cum, it’s even more brutal than the time before. He has no consideration for your spasming body as his pace never falters, only becoming even easier for him to fuck you now with two orgasms worth of your cum to guide him.

You cry his name out, begging him to cum soon. You don’t know how much more of his savage, relentless thrusts you can take.

“P-perfect. So good.” He replies, losing himself in chasing his high. He can feel himself getting closer. And the way your pussy gets so wet and how you clench so hard around him. Gods, he’s surprised he didn’t cum with you. He has always prided himself on his ability to last, though. “W-won’t - fuck - won’t be long. Want to cum in this cunt.”

Fucking please, you think. You want to feel him fill you in the only way he hasn’t yet.

His movements begin to falter ever-so-slightly, so you know he means it when he says he’s close. He tries to get a few more good, deep thrusts into you before he cums. He lasts for maybe five or six more.

Everything about him is big and excessive. Big hands, broad shoulders, big cock. And even his fucking load is huge. He pushes into you as he spurts his cum, feeling it drip down his cock and drilling it back into you as he tries to keep fucking you while he cums.

He sounds so good moaning in your ear, louder than he’s been moaning this entire time. The noises he makes are gorgeous - low, husky groans right next to you.

He drops his hips down, but even still half his length is still buried inside you. You feel his cum leak out of you, probably mixed with some of your own wetness. And he, in turn, feels it run down his cock, dripping down onto his balls.

You’re both left breathless and completely exhausted. He rests on the chair, one of his arms still haphazardly thrown around you, the other hanging over the arm of the throne. You lie on top of him, still curling your upper body to huddle into the warmth of his chest.

He clears his throat. “I must confess something." He begins. You lift your head up slightly to look at him. The sweat gleams on his forehead, dripping down from his temples. "I have heard the demands of the Gods. And they demand a queen for Kattegat.”

Your eyes go wide, not that he can see.

“So,” he sweeps the hand on your back upwards, coming to hold your face as he asks you one final question. “How would you like to be Queen?”

[goldentsum]

— love, you can’t run away from me forever.

PAIRING: soulmate! suna rintarou x reader

GENRE: smut, soulmate au but make it dark

WORDCOUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY: growing up in a world filled with soulmates was magical but with news about people going crazy and killing people for their “love” made suna repulsive to the idea of soulmates though when you came along, he finally understood why those people did it. 

WARNING: dark content, smut, noncon, manipulative tendencies, cussing/cursing, creepy! and delulu! suna, mean! reader, masturbation (male), photos and audio recording taken w/o consent, kidnapping, oral sex (fem receiving), bdsm, sadistic! suna, dom! suna, violence, abuse, blood, suna is a dick, reader who tries to fight back

AUTHOR’S NOTE: another one cus why not! you guys seemed to liked my first dark fic so here’s another one! <3 might be bad idk prob cus of my writing HAHAHHA also, suna just being a creepy and psychopathic aquarius. DO NOT INTERACT/READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON’T LIKE THIS TYPE OF CONTENT. 

REMINDER: this is not love and i do not condone this type of behavior. do not romanticize this, this is fiction and in no way am i telling people this is okay. if you don’t like content like this, please click away or block the tag tw.darkcontent

‘the world is fucked up,’ suna thought, looking at his phone as he saw all types of news about people killing and committing all types of felonies to prove that their love for their soulmates were real. 

the stoic male grimaced at one news he came upon when he scrolled up, a young man killed his family and friends because “he doesn’t need anyone else beside his soulmate”. now that was fucked up. suna never thought he'd lose faith in humanity even more with each passing day. it was actually impressive with how fucking stupid and delusional people get when the topic of soulmates come up. 

gold eyes narrowed at the inked skin of his wrist. “(l/n) (y/n)” or whoever that is better not mind never having a soulmate because there’s no way in hell suna’s going to be all lovey-dovey and accept the soulmate bullshit. 

he thinks that soulmates are a scam. it was a hoax to make people do stupid shit and suna will not tolerate that type of bull. if he’s gonna end up with someone, it’ll be because he likes them not because of ‘fate’ or whatever decided it for him. 

he will never conform to society and its standards. 

“suna! what’s with the ugly face?” atsumu snickered, plopping down on the seat beside suna making the taller male groan. 

“oh fuck off, atsumu. i’m not in the mood for your bullshit” 

“when have you ever been in a mood for bullshit?” 

suna raised a brow and hummed, “good point” 

atsumu shook his head and turned to the counter where his brother was standing behind. “’samu! i want 3 tuna onigiris!” 

osamu glared at his brother and scowled, “get it yourself, lazy ass” 

“i’m paying you!” atsumu whined like the little brat he is but osamu ignored him and tended to the other customers in his shop. suna groaned at the noise, “for fuck’s sake, tsumu. shut up. your voice is so annoying” 

atsumu glared at the man and punched his shoulder, making suna winced and scowled at his former teammate from highschool. the older miya twin huffed and ignored his words, continuing what he was about to say before suna insulted him, “anyway! what i was trying to say earlier was that people around us are finding their soulmates while i’m stuck with you bums! how is that fair?!” 

suna groaned, annoyed, at the same old topic of soulmates. “soulmates are overrated. it’s a scam. you’re lucky you haven’t met yours yet if anything.” 

the setter scoffed at suna’s old same line of bitterness towards the topic of soulmates, “what’s with you, anyway? what’s with the bitterness towards soulmates?” 

“it’s bullshit, is all” suna replied easily, not bothered nor giving a shit. atsumu smirked and threw an arm over the male’s shoulder, “one day, you’ll meet your soulmate and everything’s gonna change.” 

“did you just curse me or?” 

“I don't know, did i?”

oh for fuck’s sake. atsumu really did cursed him. suna stared in awe, uncharacteristically so, at you while you glared at him. you clicked your tongue when his gaze was still as dazed and lovesick since you two have met. 

“fuck off, rintarou! i told you i don’t want any soulmate bullshit!” 

suna chuckled with a small blush on his cheeks, “i love it when you call me, rintarou--”

“because that’s your name, stupid! you know what, i’m not even gonna bother. and for the last time, stop following me!” you growled, stomping off to get away from your creep of a soulmate but the man didn’t mind your words. it was quite amusing to him to be honest. 

you’re so cute and small and so angry at the world that it’s so endearing to him. with every glare you give him, it sends pleasant shivers down his spine. ah, so this is what it felt to be with your soulmate. it’s addicting. you two could rule the world together if you want to. 

“love, you can’t run away from me forever. i’m your soulmate” 

you groaned at the persistent male, “i don’t want you as a soulmate! why can’t you understand that?!” 

suna stopped following you after your harsh words. you also stopped, your anger subsiding a bit when you realized what you said and all of a sudden, there was a pain in your heart. you cursed at the soulmate bond that was not letting you reject your fate. guilt resurfaced in your gut when you looked at suna who’s staring at the ground, eyes hidden under his bangs. 

“r-rintarou?.. look i’m sorry, okay. but i don’t really want any soulmate business in my life-...” you tried to explain but quickly cut your words off when suna started chuckling. 

scared and terrified at the creepy laugh and unexpected action, you stepped back and looked at him with wide eyes. suna then looked up at you and smirked, the dark glint in his eyes gave you the creeps, his breath heavy as he panted like a dirty pervert! his eyes were so filled with emotions. lust, obsession, and ‘love’ but you don’t  even know if you can call it ‘love’...

“did you feel that? it shows... no matter what you do. we’re connected.” 

oh fuck no. this psycho is not worth it. you grimaced at his words and turned back around swiftly, walking faster to get away from him. 

“fate will always bring us together, (y/n). the quicker you accept that, the easier life gets” you heard him shouted after you and it only made you quicken your actions, heart beating rapidly at what just happened. 

suna smirked at your figure as it grew smaller and smaller. he figured he’d let you go for now. it’s not like you can hide from him. you can try but the ink on your skin will always remind you where you belong and that’s with him. 

the tall male looked at his phone, the screen showing a picture of you sleeping. he traced your features through the phone with a loving sigh and quickly stuffed it back to his pocket. he whistled a small tune under his breath on his way back home, his thoughts filled with you. 

suna walked inside his apartment, shrugging his shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. he groaned in annoyance when his shoes got stuck on his foot but quickly shook it off. the moment he was in his bedroom, he removed his shirt and plopped down on the bed, opening his phone again. 

in his phone, there was a whole album of you. sleeping, eating, at the gym, when you were at the library. suna also opened one of the files in his phone as sounds of you breathing when you were sleeping echoed in the room. 

a small moan escaped the phone, suna’s eyes shining slyly at the sound. oh how he wants to hear it in person. he wants to hear every lovely sound you can make. he wants to know everything about you. 

what type of weather do you like? do you like cereal at night like him? do you have a special place for cats in your heart like he does? do you hate heat like him? and do you like getting fucked so hard the only thing you can do is scream? 

suna sighed at the last thought as rapid images of what you would look like popped in his head. would you look pouty? would you cry? would you be quiet and shy? or would you moan like a bitch in heat? 

the familiar twitch in his sweats made suna antsy. a hand drifted to his pants to palm himself through the cloth. 

suna massaged his hardening cock through his pants, letting out sighs as he did so. your soft breathing from the phone was making him harder. he imagined you beside him, sleeping. looking so innocent and safe from all the vile things of the world. safe with him. 

your plump lips curled into a small pout as your brows furrows while you dream then waking up, needy for him. suna groaned and swiftly tugged his sweats and boxers off him. he spat on his hand, hissing when he started stroking his thick cock. drifting to the sensitive head of his cock, he massaged it with the slick spit as it ooze out pre-cum. 

he quickly coated his digits with the precum and slicked his twitching cock with it for the smooth friction he was craving. he panted at the feeling when he tightened his grip on his dick, trying to imagine your tight wet pussy instead. 

“s-shit, baby... feels so good’“ he slurred, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling of the tight grip, stroking himself to a slow rhythm. in his mind, he can see your pretty face. 

he can imagine you on top of him, rolling your hips slowly to not overstimulate yourself with his large cock inside of you. suna licked his lips, a small smirk appearing on his face as he imagined the cute little noises you made when you tried to fit him in you. 

his thick cock hitting so deeply inside you but oh how you like it, you slut. you’d look so gorgeous, moaning on top of him, hands on his chest whilst you ride him. 

“r-rintarou” he can hear your lewd voice calling out, your breath getting heavier with each stroke of his cock, dragging in your tight wet walls. your big doe eyes filled with tears as you look down at him, trying to get some help from him to fuck you good already.

he cursed when he felt a familiar band trying to snap in his lower stomach, his hand getting faster. wet slapping sounds echoed in the room along with your soft breathing on his phone. his violent and aggressive movements were getting him closer to his release. 

this is how he wants it to be. him fucking you so violently making you cry, hands gripping you tight that your pretty skin would bloom with violets and blue. 

he can already see it, how your tongue will roll out your pretty lips whilst you get fucked so hard that all you can do is lay and scream for him, your soulmate. your other half. you belong to him. 

“ha-ah-!” suna groaned deeply when his release hit him, thick warm cum hit his clenching abs as the spiraling pleasure made him shiver. his hand pumping his dick fast to ride his orgasm, his chest heaving deep pants. the male gulped down, trying to wet his dry throat as he slowly calmed down. lazy yellow eyes stared up in the white ceiling of his bed. 

he needs you. he wants to feel you. he wants to be with you. now. 

you sighed as you walked home to your apartment, it has been a week since your crazy soulmate tried to bother you in accepting him and it was making you jumpy. his eyes just showed so much when you last saw him that it made you paranoid with every movement that was happening around you. 

you entered your room, exhaling a deep breath of relief as you felt the warm air of your safe home. it was nice to be in your apartment again. no one to bother you. safe from the crazy man that suddenly stopped messing with you. 

after shrugging off your coat, you enter your kitchen to get a glass of water. all the overthinking about the mess that fate got you into was making your head hurt. as you greedily gulped down the water to soothe your dry throat, a movement from the dark living room made you choke on it. 

“shit” you cursed and looked at the wet floor. you put the glass down and looked at the dark living room, trying to catch any movement. you then quietly went to the knives beside you and grabbed one, walking cautiously through the room. you flickered the lights on, ready to strike if something attacked you, but as the lights went on, you sighed in relief when you saw no one. 

you let your hand drop beside you, rolling your eyes at yourself at the paranoia. you cursed the man that did this. now you were overthinking stuff and seeing shadows.

when you were about to turn around, a large hand covered your mouth and tightly gripped your wrist that held the knife, making it clunk to the floor as you screamed but the hand muffled it. 

“stop fuckin moving already.. you’re gonna just tire yourself” the familiar voice made your body stiff, your blood went cold. crying against his hand when you felt his lips touch your ear, teeth grazing it. 

“you’re so pretty” he cooed, his voice heavy and slow. tears pricked your eyes as you struggled against his hold but the tall man was obviously stronger than you being an athlete. you tried to stomp on his feet but the man nudged you forward with his weight as you two tumbled into the couch. 

you can feel the vibration of his chuckle as his chest was against your back. you heard him sigh and a small grind on your ass was enough to make you feel disgusted and dirty. 

“i apologize for this next action, (y/n)” suna muttered beside your eyes and he leaned back, quickly turning you around. before you could even scream, pain blossomed on your cheek. your vision turned blurry at the impact, dizzy.

this motherfucker just punched you. you faced him again and spat the blood on his face, your lip busted as well. “f-fuck you!”

suna growled at your actions but quickly smirked, wiping away the bloody spit on his eye while he held you down. 

“a tough one~ i like that” he whispered and you could feel a hard nudge on your inner thigh making you grimace. this man was fucked up... he just got hard from punching you and you fighting back-

suna smirking down at you was the last thing you remember then everything went dark.

the room was cold. and your limbs ached with each movement you did. you opened your eyes and panic hit you when you couldn’t see anything. you tried to call out but there was a gag on your mouth. 

you cried through the gag, you cursed everything. you hate fate for getting you into this mess. you curse soulmates bonds, you were right. soulmates are a bunch of bullshit. just look at where that ended you up in. most importantly, you hate him. if you can, you’ll kill him on the spot. 

the fucking psychopath. your soulmate. 

you bit the cloth on your mouth as the binds on your eyes got wet from the tears that escaped from your eyes. your feelings were a mess and all you could feel is anger, shame, and dread. 

“oh, you’re awake. that’s good. i thought i hit you harder than i intended to, thank god that you’re okay” you heard the familiar voice that you loathe. you growled through your gag but suna could only laugh at your pathetic attempt of dominance when you’re gagged, blindfolded, and tied to the bed. 

“now now, no need for that. we want to get along, don’t we” he muttered, walking closer to you and sat on the bed, beside you. 

you flinched when you felt his weight beside you and his hands caressed your cheek. you whimpered at the dull pain when he touches your cheek. this fucker touched where he punched you--

“that looked like it’ll bruise” you growled again at his words. you wanted to scream at him. hit him. make him feel the pain of what he did to you. 

your fussing about stopped and you stiffened when you felt him shift on top of you, going in between your legs. you tried to close your legs but his hands were faster than you. 

he maneuvered you like a doll he owns, fixing you into a position he liked. suna gazed at your tied-up body, his cock already starting to harden in his pants. he wants to touch you already. 

his hand went up and tugged your blindfold as he smiled at your dazed look that changed to a mean one. suna chuckled at your spirit. it was making him excited. 

“you’re too cute, love” he muttered, leaning closer to your neck and nuzzled into you, taking in your scent loudly making you flinch in dread. 

“you smell so sweet,” he said against your neck, an unconscious shiver running up your body. suna smirked when he felt it and continued to nuzzle his face in your neck. his hands touching and groping your body while you growled through the gag but he barely even paid attention to it, too caught up at the feeling of finally touching you and being with you. 

“i wanna taste you~” he whispered lewdly, looking deep into your eyes with a smirk. your eyes widened at his words and mustered up all the strength you had and hit his head against yours. 

you were disoriented after it but it was worth it when you heard his curse as he leaned away. your forehead was red you were sure and it’ll bruise with how hard his head was. 

“you bitch-!” your moment of victory was cut off when large hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing it. you choked, wriggling around to get away from suna but he leaned all his weight on top of you. 

he glared down at you, watching with sick satisfaction when your eyes slowly fluttered close and your struggling gradually ceased. suna can snap your neck right now if he wants to. the power he has over you almost made him drool, his cock twitching excitedly in his pants.

he let your neck go, heart beating fast when he saw finger marks on your neck, the shape of his hands on your skin. he watched you cough and try to inhale air, desperately. 

suna then grasped your chin in a tight hold and turned you to face him, making your dazed eyes look up at him, “do that again and i’ll make you bleed.” 

he let your chin go harshly and climbed off you, going out of the room. you gulped and intake the precious air, looking at the door with fear and anger. 

being with suna was an absolute nightmare. you don’t know how long it has been since the psycho kidnapped you and it was agitating. you fought back but suna liked it because it gave him the excuse to hurt you. you knew this but you just can’t give him the satisfaction he craved of you submitting to him. 

your body was slumped into the bed whilst you cried as suna ate you out. his fingers pumping viciously in and out of you, tongue lapping on your swollen clit. he denied you 4 orgasms already and your body was so sensitive from it. 

“just fucking accept this already!” suna growled against your pussy, the vibrations sending violent shivers in your body. you writhe and keened, your body in his mercy. 

you shook your head, tears streaming down your red and bruised cheeks. your neck was decorated with purple and red, bite marks and fingerprints alike. your wrists red and raw from the rope he used on you constantly.

“n-no!” 

suna rolled his eyes at your disobedience but let you be. he knows you’ll be his good girl sooner or later. he just has to try harder, he guesses. 

he sucked on your clit messily, tonguing your wetness. his fingers caressing your walls as he hit your g-spot making you arch your back. suna smirked and continued his ministrations, ignoring your pleading to let you cum already. 

he felt your walls clenching on his fingers as he stopped altogether making you cry in desperation. suna leaned on his feet, admiring the way your body tried to hump him to get the satisfaction of cumming. 

your body is so beautiful. before it was pristine and void of any marks and flaws but now your skin was decorated with purple and red courtesy of his love for you. 

“you really wanna do this, (y/n)? you rather be a bad girl than be my precious girl?” suna tried to reason with you, his tone was as if he was talking to a child. you scowled at him, “fuck you, asshole!” 

suna’s eyes turned dark at it. one thing he can’t tolerate was you saying such crude and bad words. he raised his hand and slapped you, the force of it made you turn to the side as you gasped at the pain. 

blood dripped from your nose. suna then grabbed your cheeks, squeezing. he glared down at you. “when will you learn... and here i thought you were smarter than that” 

you cried at the pain of his grip on your face and the sting of his slap was still there as his fingers pressed down to the bruises you had on your face. he shook your head, growling, “what do you say when you do something wrong” 

he continued to shake you, your aching limbs hurt at the violent movements. you whimpered and unconsciously replied, “i’m sorry-!” 

suna stopped and removed his hands from you. you looked up at him with teary eyes and saw him smiling softly at you. his mood swings were scary. you don’t really know what type of suna you’ll get before it’s too late... 

“atta girl...” he muttered and started to remove his pants. you panicked at his actions and tried to move away but the painful slap on your thigh was enough to make you stop. 

“now, let me fuck you” 

suna grabbed your ankle and pulled you down on the bed further, closer to him. he pumped his cock at the sight of you, so pretty and crying

“rintarou please-! d-don’t!” you cried, feeling so helpless and all your fire from earlier and the past days gone. the dark-haired male grinned at your sobbing and fussing about. 

“tsk. be a good girl, (y/n). just accept it.” he leaned closer to you, whispering against your wobbly lips. his dark yellow eyes stared straight into yours, lust swirling around his orbs. your body shook in fear and a small cry leaving your swollen lips. 

in one swift movement, suna entered you. he captured your lips, muffling your screams because of him suddenly entering you. the wet squishing noises were triggering your tears. you felt disgusted with yourself that you were enjoying the stretch and the feeling of being filled up by this psycho. 

maybe in another world where you two have met differently. a perfect world where things weren’t complicated. if you two worked it out and things were different then maybe you’ve actually loved him and accepted him as your soulmate. but not in this world. not now. 

you cried when suna started moving, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. your body arched on the bed, feeling the pleasure. suna panted above you, arms caging you and his muscles contracting with every movement he does. 

suna cursed at the feeling, it felt so good. you feel so good. your wet and squishy walls sucking him so eagerly. the lewd sounds of your wetness and his constant thrusting was making him more excited. 

he stopped for a moment, pulling out from your pussy to put you in all fours and then entered you again when he moved you the way he likes. suna groaned, fucking deep into you. his tip grazing your cervix making you squeal. you can feel your orgasm coming faster because of the orgasms suna denied you earlier. you sobbed, hips unconsciously thrusting back to his dick. 

the male chuckled breathily, sneaking a hand between your legs to play with your swollen clit. you choked on a moan when you felt him massaging your clit. you let your head plop down to the mattress, arms wobbly, and all you could do was moan as your body jerking at the pleasure suna was giving you. 

“oh honey, you should see how slutty your body gets when i’m fucking you” he snickered behind you, hips never relenting with his fast and hard thrusts. 

you felt tears trail down your bruised cheeks, you don’t know if it’s because of the shame you felt earlier or the pleasure. the fast circles suna gave your clit made you whine and moan as you felt your orgasm wash over you. 

you howled at the satisfying feeling of the violent orgasm, finally cumming after the torture of not coming four times earlier. suna smirked at the way your body convulsed beneath him. 

the unwavering fucking from behind was sending you to overstimulation and suna’s fingers still rubbed down your sensitive clit. you whined and keened, drool slipping past your lips. 

“so fucked out” suna muttered and bent to lean against your back, his dick twitching in your wet walls. he then angled his thrust differently making you gasp. 

he leaned back again, staring at your sweaty discolored back, from his bites from the past fun times you two had, and the way you leaned against the pillows as your pretty face contorting into a fucked out expression, so lewd.

a large hand trailed down to the back of your neck, grabbing it and letting you lean against suna’s chest. his hand then wrapped around your dainty neck, squeezing, as he felt the vibrations of your moans. 

“pretty baby~” 

his other hand gripped your hips, stilling your wiggling around as he fucked into your harder at the newly changed angle. you whimpered at the way his thick cock reached so deep into you. 

suna moaned beside your ear, hips slowly losing his rhythm as he chased his own orgasm. his self-control snapping into something greedy and feral. he ignored your cries and fucked you so he can finally cum. 

the way he used you wasn’t supposed to feel this good. although he didn’t have any intention to make you feel good, the way his dick stuffed your full and the way his thickness stretched you was made you feel the familiar band in your stomach trying to snap once again.

he unconsciously squeezed your neck, breath heavy, when he felt his orgasm getting closer. he growled, thrusting sloppily in you, the sounds of your wetness echoed in the room along with your broken moans and rasps. you can feel him twitching inside you sending you into another orgasm.

you screamed, body arching against suna. the way your pussy squeezed him and the feeling of you cumming again triggered his own. suna moaned, painting your insides with his cum as he rode his orgasm, ignoring your whining. 

he panted, removing his hold on you and letting you hit and slump unto the bed. you whined at the action. suna pulled out of you as he admired the way your pussy was filled with his cum, dripping down to your thighs and down to the sheets. he licked his lips at the sight and leaned closer to you as if he was lured in. 

you gasped and cried when you felt his tongue wiggling around your sensitive pussy. you squeezed your eyes close tightly, body shivering at the overstimulation but suna barely paid any attention to you. he only wanted to satisfy his desires.

you gazed at the plain ceiling, dully. the soft breathing of the insane male beside you was making you grimace. he just finished fucking you or what he calls, “soulmate bonding time” but all he did was make you cry. 

the sun was up and it was probably noon now but suna normally sleeps in and today was no exception. the phone beside suna’s side on the table started buzzing, circling a little because of the vibration. you heard suna groaned, always the light sleeper. you quickly closed your eyes and hid your face in the covers and pillows. 

you felt the male shifting and after a while, he started talking in his annoyingly attractive deep voice. sleep taking a toll in his vocal cords making it all husky. you internally cursed the soulmate bond trying to make you see him in another light or some bullshit like that.

“hey, what’s up?” 

you continued to listen to the one-sided conversation as you pretend to be asleep. your heart skipped a beat when you heard suna’s words. 

“yeah, come over. i’ll introduce you to her” 

your body stiffened but tried to relax. maybe this was your chance to expose him. you have to try something, you can’t keep letting him do these things to you... 

a soft sleepy groan, the sound someone makes when they stretch, rung inside the quiet room. the covers shifted a bit and a disgustingly familiar body heat hit your skin as two large hands caressed your skin. 

“baby? i’m gonna introduce you to my friends, that’s okay right? it’s time i show off my pretty baby~” you heard him coo. you bit your lip, how can this man act like your relationship with him is normal... you then became painfully aware of the bruises and scars on your body making you self-conscious as you tried to make yourself smaller. 

“they’ll see all of these” he whispered sweetly with a dazed look on his eyes as he traced the marks that were in purple-y and reddish hues that it was too nauseating to look at but suna thought it was so beautiful on you.

suna spent all afternoon dolling you up, fixing your short dress that shows every mark he gave you. your eyes looked at your reflection. you teared up at the sight. you didn’t look like yourself anymore... 

tired eyes that sagged with dark bags under it. a deep purple bruise on your cheek. your bottom lip was cut from suna’s slap, neck decorated with hickeys and fingerprints, skin discolored.

the man behind you started whistling the godforsaken tune he always sang under his breath as he combed your hair. after fixing your hair, he let his hands down on your shoulders and looked at you through the mirror. 

“ain’t you a pretty little thing...” he muttered, admiring you. you let your gaze shift down to your lap as the male carried you to the living room. 

“now behave.” his word was final as always. do not question it nor do you go against it. or he’ll hurt you... again and again...

a loud voice cut through the quiet atmosphere in the apartment and impatient knocks was heard. “suna! open the damn door, already!” 

the dark-haired male sighed and went to the door. your heart started beating a little too fast. when his guests see you, or your state, you’ll get away from here... or maybe he’ll hurt them too... you shook your head. trying to stay positive so you can get out of this hellhole.

a tall man with golden dyed locks entered the room along with someone who looked similar to him though their hair was different. honey brown eyes lock with your tired ones, you were hopeful when you saw the confusion in his eyes. 

the man looked back to suna who stood next to him, you knew you were saved when the two identical men glared at him but then they started talking--

“geez! here i thought you’ll be gentler now that you met your soulmate!”

“suna? gentle? like hell. now where’s the food. you promised me food, suna” 

your eyes got teary as you suppressed a gasp. of course, his friends were as insane as he was. 

the golden haired male then smiled at you like there was nothing wrong. like he doesn’t see all the fucking bruises on your body, “hey, darlin’~ suna’s been beating you, huh? were you misbehaving~?” 

suna growled at the man and shoved him, “shut the fuck up, atsumu” the two started bickering like everything was normal as they ignored you...

you sniffled and turned to the light nudged from your side, you looked at the other male that entered the apartment. the man offered you some pudding as a spoon was hanging from his lips. “you look like you need it, miss” he said, his face unfazed. 

you took the pudding with shaking hands and lowered your head as the three men walked around the room, conversing with each other. 

maybe, suna’s right... life would be easier if you just accepted him. you were stuck with him now and always and his name on your skin will forever be the reminder of that. 

fate has a weird way of pairing people up and you can’t do anything about it. 

[venomremmy777]

-sigh-

A lot of you did not understand my last post, so let me explain

I KNOW THAT SAYING A SHIP IS CANON IS MEMEING

Hell, I do the very same thing MYSELF. I know they’re just enjoying ships, but some people GENUINELY think the ship is canon. As usual, the MHA fandom took this too literally, and too generally, so let me walk you through this-

Horikoshi: Makes Deku play a big role in helping Todoroki from his trauma, and gives fanservice

The Fandom: OMG TODODEKU CANON

I know when people say TodoDeku is canon, if any, they’re joking. I originally wasn’t going to put TodoDeku, since it wouldn’t make much sense to put it. But I decided to anyways, but just as a lead. That’s all it was, a lead, into this-

Horikoshi: Has Uraraka get a crush on Deku

The Fandom: NO! IZUOCHA CANON NOW, NOT TODODEKU

Honestly this doesn’t have much importance either, I was just adding the TodoDeku vs IzuOcha stuff for relevance, and the fact I wanted to include as many mainstream ships as possible, without targeting one group.

Horikoshi: Writes an intimate and relationship between Momo and Jirou

The fandom: THEY’RE LESBIANS! 🥰

A lot of people GENUINELY think this. Jirou has been shown to blush or get shy around girls, and her Momo are often featured next to each other in Horikoshis sketch’s, BLUSHING. No, no- I’m not saying they’re canon, I’m just saying canon things. Take it as you will.

But…

Horikoshi: Makes Jirou the most important person to Kaminari

The fandom: IF THATS NOT ON THE ROAD TO CANON IDK WHAT IS! 😍

Okay so, now that Jirou is important to Kaminari, all of a sudden the MomoJirou stuff is irrelevant? KamiJirou is considered one of the most canon BNHA ships in the MHA fandom, because of this. But how come people considered MomoJirou a possibility, but they don’t now? And yes, I know, not everyone thinks that. Some people think KamiJirou is canon and others think MomoJirou is, I don’t really think anyone changed their minds on this one.

Idk if you’ve caught on, but I was mainly targeting a certain group, I just added other ships for fillers and meme- purposes. I also didn’t want to seem biased or like I was attacking, but I suppose I’ll have to since y’all did an r/whooosh

Horikoshi: Says he likes TodoMom-

The fandom: cOnFiRmEd

Again…we’re just going to brush off the MomoJirou progress? Or the fact Todoroki and Momo don’t have a lot of screentime. Yes, Horikoshi likes Todomomo. That does give it a high chance and I DO Love this ship! But a creator liking a ship doesn’t make it canon! Trust me, other fandoms, other experiences…

People genuinely think TodoMomo is canon too. Not like a funny “Haha Todoroki is looking at her in this background panel” No, I mean FULL ON, SERIOUS, ESSAY-LENGTH EXPLANATIONS and GENUINE beliefs

Horikoshi: Writes an arc about KiriBaku and their importance to each other, giving subtle hints and a shit ton of “coincidental” evidence

The fandom: GUYS LOOOOOK! MORE KRBK PROOF! KIRIBAKU CANON! 😍

Welp, here it is. The first of the three I was targeting, and my own fandom. I am, in fact, one of those delusional people, who thinks it’s actually canon. But I am well aware the LGBT does not have the upper hand in a Shounen genre, but I like to hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, we can find peace here. I wasn’t really talking about the fact of Krbks calling KRBK canon, cause that would have been hypocritical of me. I meant the fact that at a certain point, Kirishima and Bakugo’s relationship was focused on so much in 2018, it basically became this trend. Where EVERYONE thought this ship had a chance. Because they seemed to ALWAYS BE NEXT TO EACH OTHER

You’re probably thinking,”What’s the point of this then?”

Well, here’s the point-

Horikoshi: Drops them to focus on Bakugo and Deku’s redemption and relationship building

Fandom: Oop- GUESS BKDK IS CANON NOW 😄🤭 So sad, I wanted KiriBaku/ IzuOcha oh well 😔

Okay here’s the thing, with the KRBK vs BKDK, I meant it more of a platonic or general sense. People seem to think that just because Kirishima and Bakugo haven’t interacted in a hundred chapters they’re suddenly irrelevant to each other?! As if they aren’t at least friends anymore?!?! I’ve seen people say “Kirishima was used for Bakugo’s redemption so he could get along better with Deku, so now there’s no need for him anymore” Um…no? KiriBakus development is a WHOLE OTHER THING FROM BKDK DEVELOPMENT. And all of you fellow Krbks- Stop crying a river because they haven’t interacted for 100 chapters! Bakugo and Deku redeeming their friendship is important!! LET THE BKDKS HAVE THIS! It’s what they wanted. Just because Deku and Bakugo are becoming friends, doesn’t mean Kirishima and Bakugo aren’t. So, just stop. Please. You don’t become best friends with each other and then all of a sudden say “Hey dude, your important to me n’ all, but there’s this other guy who I used to be friends with, but I kinda bullied him, so…Kinda gotta fix my relationship with him. Anyways lmao bye sEe yA nEVEr-“ I’m preeetttyyy sure that’s not how it works.

A lot of you might say, “No one says that” Oh, Ho, Really?

Now, finally, the last serious one…

Horikoshi: Gives Kirishima and Mina a chapter

The fandom: KiRiMinA cOnfiRmEd

This one I am being DEADASS serious. Horikoshi decided to finally introduce the arc where Kirishima gets over what happened in middle school, and Minas importance or lack thereof, whatever, to him. He saved her, and Mina did a new move “Acid Man” inspired by “UNBREAKABLE”. And apparently, this was leading to the road of being endgame. HELL- Even some Krbks were pouting like, “Yeah, but with the way the manga is going KiriMina is going to be endgame” OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS. Again! Just fuck the Krbk development right?! Just fuck it all! Because apparently, they can’t have other relationships of them focused on, without you thinking THATS going to be canon instead. Before you call me biased and delusional, MORE PROOF 👇

The last “IiDaDeKu” one was clearly just a meme, a funny, trending note to end on.

Please oh please understand the purpose of this!! It’s too make those of you doing this award of how guillable you’re being- and that NO SHIPS ARE CANON UNTIL THEY ACTUALLY ARE, FOR NOW ITS JUST POTENTIAL

And as a joke!! So we can LAUGH together about how much of a MESS this fandom is!

I mean- Fuck- I just had to explain a joke to you!!!

Also I’m sorry about my attitude but the replies made me pissed- Y’all made me sound like an Anti or a dude bro

WHO I HATE WITH EVERY SINGLE FIBER IN MY BEING

So don’t compare me to them again!!

I have a feeling- A STRONG feeling, some of y’all will think I’m just being rude and stupid, and I have no right to be mad, and STILL won’t get the purpose or joke of my last post, but if you do…

THANK YOU

BONUS:

Yes I do understand enjoying ships actually. Shipping is my whole life, I more than understand the difference between shipping for fun and shipping for a purpose. I get that some people ship as a comfort and others a hobby. I know it’s both platonic and romantic. I understand it’s not only to pair people together but to explore different possibilities. I know the difference between wanting your ship to be canon and genuinely thinking it is. I know shipping is for enjoyment, and it’s not about which becomes canon. I KNOW people are joking when they say it’s canon, but in the case with some of these they aren’t. And yeah, I know it’s a minority, but it’s an annoying, LOUD minority. No shit Sherlock people say certain ships are canon as a joke when they get crumbs

NO FUCKING DUH

[persepholline]

I've read that article about the romanticization of the Darkling and while I absolutely understand people who are pissed off/sad and I agree that it's shitty, I find LB's attitude towards Darkles stans very funny in a "girl what are you doing" sort of way because it's so petty like I've never heard of a bestselling author writing a portion of their fans into their books as a crazy cult before, it clearly hit a nerve

I'm new to the fandom but the feeling I get is she wrote something problematic ten years ago and became very embarrassed about it afterwards so she turned on the fans that liked it as a way to absolve herself. Especially since fandoms in general have become a lot more focused on discussion of what constitutes healthy/acceptable relationships to write about. And in a way I get it I had a huge Twilight phase in high school and afterwards I was super embarassed about it because of how problematic and cringe it was. But now with distance and more maturity I'm able to both still see why it was problematic and also why I was drawn to it (mostly the very unhinged representation of female desire) and like...it's really not the end of the world and no it never made me believe that breaking into somebody's room at night to watch them sleep was actually ok in real life lmao. This feels so obvious to me but apparently it needs to be said.

(More under the break this is turning into an essay, I've been thinking of this a lot recently)

And of course it's good to have these discussions about how historically romance tropes have echoed social dynamics of men's shitty behavior being romanticized and excused. But these days they often are so simplistic and focused on chasing clout that they become this weird new puritanism and moral panic about oh now women are reading novels it's going to make them hysterical or something

So you have these weird assumptions that you can't like a character and also be critical of their actions, or enjoy certain parts of a character and not others, or wish they were written differently and like them more for their potential (which I'm sure stings a bit for an author lol) - it assumes that if you like a character it means you would approve of their actions in real life, or that people just stupidly reproduce whatever they see on TV. That tendency to treat fictional characters like real people is the thing that actually worries me, to be honest, because it indicates a lack of distance and critical capacities regarding how stories are used and received. But people - fans and authors - are so scared of being called out as problematic and harassed for it that they're going to shy away from any nuance.

And yeah I think that it's good that standards of what constitutes an ideal relationship are evolving and becoming more feminist and communicative and all that and we definitely need more of that. But not all fiction has to be aspirational! Sometimes you just want to read about fucked up shit, because it's cathartic or fascinating, even healing at times because with fiction you are absolutely in control and can choose when to close the book. Toxic relationships in fiction can have an appeal specifically because they go to extremes of feeling that we don't want to go to in reality, in exactly the same way as horror movies or very violent action movies - which I don't see a lot of people besides fundamentalist Christians argue that they turn you into violent psychopaths (and that feels very obviously sexist). And for women, who are often taught growing up that love is the purpose of life, the "saving someone with your ability to love" can be a power fantasy in the same way that being a buff superhero who saves the day with their capacity for incredible violence can be a power fantasy for men. Still doesn't mean those women are going to fall in love with actual murderers or that those men are going to start beating up people at night. And love is scary, and weird, and weirdly close to horror at times, with all the potential for loss of self and being vulnerable and overwhelming feelings and potential for being horribly hurt and it should be possible for stories to explore that without anybody screaming about how this is going to Corrupt the Youth or something

And I mean I get it LB wanted to write a cautionary tale for teenagers, but it just did not work for reasons a lot of people have already written about - the fact that the Darkling is the leader of an oppressed minority and is the only one with a real political agenda to end that oppression in the first trilogy, the fact that he helps Alina come into her own power while her endgame LI is someone she keeps herself small for, that she's shamed for wanting power after growing up without any, a generally very wonky conception of privilege, and a lot of other stuff with yucky regressive implications to the point where stanning the villain actually feels liberating and empowering which is a surefire sign that the narrative is broken (unless it's a villain focused story lmao). But of course that Fanside article makes almost no mention of the political dynamics, it's all about interpersonal stuff which is an annoying trend in YA, there are those massive events happening in the background but it's made all about the feelings of the hero(ine) ; war as a self-development quest (which is kind of gross). Helnik is kind of an example of this too - I like them, I think they're fun ! But Matthias spends a big part of the story wanting to brutally murder Nina and her kind, and he mostly changes his mind because he finds her hot. Like you don't feel there is some sort of big revelation that his entire moral system and political framework is completely rotten ; it's all better because of feelings now.

As a teenager that kind of sanctimonious bullshit would have annoyed the hell out of me ; I read those books in my early twenties and I found the ending so stupid I wouldn't have trusted any message or life lessons coming from them. And I liked reading/watching dark stuff as a teenager, as a way to deal with the very intense inner turmoil I was dealing with - and I turned out fine ! Meanwhile I've seen several times women in very shitty relationships being obsessed with positive energies and stories ; they were so terrified of their life not being perfectly wholesome they ended up being delusional about their own situations.

Like personally I think the Darkling is a compelling, interesting, alluring character and also a manipulative, murderous piece of shit and that Alina should get to punish him (like in a sexy way) - but he's also the end result of centuries of war, oppression and trauma and reducing that to "toxic wounded boy" feels kind of offensive ngl ESPECIALLY since the books don't offer any kind of systemic analysis or response to oppression beyond "the bad guy should die" and "now the king/queen is a good guy our problems are solved!!!!"

In Lives of the Saints, we see how Yuri is abused extremely badly and almost killed by his father, and so when his father dies when the Fold swallows Novokribirsk, he thinks the Starless Saint has saved him. Later in KoS/RoW he's turned into this fanatic who explains away all the Darkling's crimes. The other followers talk about how the Starless Saint will bring equality for all men. Then the Darkling comes back and actually thinks his followers are pathetic, which feels again like a very pointed message to his IRL stans. Which is absolutely hilarious to me. Like oh no, if he was real he would not like you and think you're pathetic ! Yeah ...but he's not. Real. Damn right he would not like the fics where Alina puts him on a leash. I'm still going to read them. What is he going to do about it, jump out of the page ? Jfjfjjdhfgfjfj

Anyway I think the intended message is "assholes will use noble political causes for their own gain and to manipulate people" and "being abused/oppressed is not an excuse to behave badly." Which. Sure. But that's kind of like...a tired take, honestly ? A big number of villains nowadays are like this ; either they've been bullied as kids, or they're part of an oppressed group, or they have "good ideals but too extreme". This is not surprising because a lot of mainstream heroic narratives present clinging to the status quo as Good and change as chaotic and dangerous. And like sure in real life people often do bad shit because they're wounded and in danger. But if you want to do a story like that, you have to do it with nuance, talk about cycles of violence, about how society creates vulnerable people to be exploited, about how privilege gives you more choices and the luxury of morals, etc. The Grishaverse does not have this level of nuance (maybe in SoC a little bit but definitely not in TGT). So it kind of comes off as "trauma makes you evil" and "egalitarianism is dangerous" and "if you're abused/oppressed you're not allowed to fight back". And ignores the fact that historically, evil generally comes from unchecked privilege.

I guess my point is that there are many things I like about LB's writing, she knows how to create these really exciting character dynamics, and the world she has created is fascinating. But these stories are not a great starting point for imparting moral lessons. And her best characters tend to be, at least in canon, the morally grey ones. I hope one day she'll be at peace with the fact that she wrote the Darkling the way she did and leave his fans alone but in the meantime I'm just not going to take this whole thing seriously I'm sorry

[xseaxwitchxkpop]

Have Your Cake and Eat It, Too

Yeah, I had no other idea for a title, lmao. Anyway this is part one of a two or three part series. I wanted to break it up because some people want a lead up to smut and some people do not. So this is like a lead up and part two will be the actual smut and a lot longer than this one. Alrighty, enough of my rambling.

Part Two // Part Three

Disclaimer: Everything is consensual, contains mommy kink, fem!reader, dom!reader, dom!Yunho, sub!San, tall!reader, clear communication is always key

Requested: NO

Group: ATEEZ -- San, Yunho

Word Count: 1,637

******************************

You were laying in the bed, San cuddled up under your chin and head nestled in your breasts while you pet his head and played with the hair on the back of his neck. He let out a sigh of content as you two basked in the comfortable silence after a relatively light sex session of stress relieve. You and San were friends with benefits, this arrangement starting about four months ago when he expressed interest in wanting to be dominated by a woman and trusting you to put it into action. “Sweetheart?” you whisper quietly, continuing to pet his head. He met you with a hum and burrowed himself further into your breasts, tightening his grip around your midsection, finding comfort in the protruding tummy you hated, which always broke his heart. “Do you have any wishes for your birthday? It’s a month away and while I like to think I know you well, I want to know what you want,” you asked him, anticipating his typical answer that consisted of nonchalance.There was a beat of silence before he mumbled out, “Whatever you think is best, mommy.”

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

A couple of days later, you contacted Yunho, knowing that San was close with him and Yunho being one of like four of the members you have an actual friendship with; he also knows about your arrangement with San because San has a tendency to overshare when he’s delusionally tired. 

“Hey, Yunho, it’s Y/N. I need to know if San said anything to you about what he would want for his birthday...he hasn’t been direct with me. Call me when you have the time and are not within earshot of San.” You hung up after, hoping that when Yunho called you after the group’s practice session that he would have a definitive answer for you because you wanted to spoil San but weren’t sure how to go about doing that. 

You returned to eating your sandwich, trying to eat relatively fast but not choke as you only had 15 minutes left of lunch and with it getting close to rush hour, you might not even have five minutes left. 

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

A random TV show was playing on your TV and you were scrolling through social media on your cell when Yunho finally called you back around 7pm, and the conversation did not go to a place you anticipated at all.You pressed the green phone and put him on speaker as you turned off the TV. 

“Yah, Yunho. You have an answer for me?”The man on the other side of the phone call hesitated a moment before letting out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t want to suggest anything bad, or at least, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and overstep any boundaries between you and me. But uh….hmm….there is something he mentioned to me quite a while ago.”

You cocked your eyebrow, nervous and yet incredibly curious to where exactly Yunho was going with his answer. “Go on,” you responded. You could already imagine the blush dusting his cheeks and his hand hiding his mouth, the usual for when he gets nervous about anything.

“Well, ah, Sannie and I...hmm…” He stopped, debating if he should go on or if he should stop, especially because he had no idea how you would react and didn’t want to ruin the good thing he had with you. He wasn’t romantically interested in you, but he definitely was interested sexually; the problem was that both you and him are dominants and that would not play out very well in the bedroom with just the two of you...unless…

Fuck it. “Sannie has told me a couple of times that he wanted to try a threesome sometime...with two dominants. And, hmm, him and I have fooled around a few times and considering that...I wanna propose that maybe we can give him that?” Yunho ended on an unsure note, hoping that you would not react with outrage or get mad at him or anything else.

Your side of the line stayed silent, processing what Yunho just told you. San wanted a threesome...you were a dominant and Yunho was an incredibly attractive man who also happened to be dominant, a problem you realized when you found out he was such because you wanted to fuck him, too. This really did offer the perfect solution for the both of you.

“Alright, if you’re proposing that you and I fuck San’s brains out in the way he wants, we can also have fun with each other. I’m down,” you managed to tell him nonchalantly. Yunho breathed a sigh of relief.

 “However,” you continued, in which he tensed up again, “I’m the one in charge, not you.” Yes, this was a jealous and competitive streak coming out, but you didn’t care. You also saw this as an opportunity to be a hard dom, something you don’t do often and part of the reason San went to you when he discovered his femdomme kink.

Yunho was intrigued by this part of the response and found it amusing. “How about I come over with food and we talk about it further before talking about it with San?” he asked, not being able to wait to make plans and discuss things because his puppy-like excitement wouldn’t let him. You laughed, adoring his impatience and agreed to him coming over with food. 

That night was an extensive discussion of how to talk about it to San and what kinks you two are open to what were hard nos. 

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

About a week before his birthday is when you and Yunho agreed to talk to San about the whole ordeal. About two weeks went by and in those two weeks, both of you were giddy with anticipation, nervous with uncertainty, and both doing loads of research about threesomes since it would be everyone’s first time in an orgy. 

The day came and the plan was that Yunho was to bring San to your apartment and talk about it simply. However, you felt the need to include food as a comfort for both you and San as a way to ease any nerves that may arise. 

The boys came by later in the early evening after practice and after you got off of work. Each of you settled around your coffee table, dishes and soju sitting on the table, waiting to be touched. 

San looked at you and said, “Yunho said you wanted to talk to me about something and he wouldn’t tell me what; is everything okay?”

He looked at you with genuine concern and that hurt you a little but also annoyed you because Yunho was being his usual mischievous self. You looked at the male in question who smirked at you through his mouthful of black bean noodles, intentionally making you the one to start the conversation. 

You turned your attention back to the shorted male, eyes still fixated on you in concern. “No, Sannie, nothing is wrong,” you reply, giving him a minute to relax before continuing. “Yunho and I talked about what I should get you for your birthday and we agreed to actually team up for your present from us.”

“Y/N, if it’s expensive Yunho should pay for it...he has enough money to,” San said jokingly, a slight chuckle leaving his lips as he proceeded to stuff his mouth with the meat you bought just for him. 

A sigh left your lips before you forced yourself to answer, considering that Yunho was still doing everything in his power to not talk. You knew a part of this was because you demanded to be the one “in charge” and you hated how sneaky he could be.

So you decided to just bite the bullet. “No, San, I mean that Yunho and I want to have a threesome with you, if you’ll let us.”

The male stopped chewing for a moment, a little surprised by what you just said. He eyed you up and down, then turned his attention to Yunho and eyed him up and down, then turned back to you and hummed.

He finished chewing the food in his mouth, then swallowed, considering something for a moment. The room felt tense, but not in a bad way, holding its breath for San’s answer and contributing to your growing anxiety. The smaller male’s face split into a big smile, looking excitedly between you and Yunho. “You really want to?” he asked, hiding nothing about how he felt being asked this. 

However, that was not the reaction you and Yunho were anticipating, but it was the best that could happen.

Now it was Yunho’s turn to answer. “Yes, Sannie. We didn’t really know how else to ask and I know you mentioned it a couple times and I figured since you trust us, it seemed an obvious perfect gift and a perfect time to do it.” Yunho sheepishly scratched behind his head, looking at San with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness.

You were taken aback in a good way, and now that you had nothing to worry about in terms of acceptance or denial, you wanted to get to setting boundaries and laying out the kinks with San involved. Low and behold, you whipped out a small notebook and pen you had hidden behind a throw pillow just in case it did go well.

Yunho looked at you and cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile dancing on his lips. “I guess we talk about what that night should entail, then.” The three of you let out soft giggles and continued to eat and drink into the night, the boys leaving after the discussion and helping clean, and you, going to bed but getting hardly any sleep out of excitement.

[bookofmirth]

Hi

I'm not up to date with all the drama in this fandom bc i tend to scroll past it. But being a reader of the books before I landed in these fandoms, I'm utterly shocked about how people treat eachother.

I'm very neutral on this stupid ship war going on. I tend to fall more for Elriel. But I understand everyone's opinion. I used to read all the book analysis, but now it just seems so exhausting. I get that people love books and ship different people. That's normal, everyone has different taste etc i'm just here trying to understand why we need to bring other human beings down in order to push our own narrative.

Since when is it okay to do that???? Can't we have a normal conversation without sending death treats?

I normally don't really respond to anything that involves drama. But these last couples of months have gotten me to dislike the books more and more solely because of these, may I call them blandly, horrible people.

And i'm very sad to have to admit that i'm also getting sick of the art of the multiple ships. Which that's horrible because I love what all these amazing artists create. But the hate they receive and the comments just make me hate it all more,this whole fandom with all these toxic people ruining it for me personally.

Can't we all just agree that we like these books, and respect eachother as human beings, no matter what everyone else thinks? And maybe wait and see what the author writes? In the end it are still her books and she will have the final say in everything.

I wish SJM would release the next book sooner so all this hate would stop, then again i don't know if it will stop. They will likely continue and probably bother SJM too...

Thank you for listening to me ranting, you always seem very nice to people with different opinions, so I thought i might as well rant a bit too.

Have a lovely day!!

Hello! Thank you for this message! I think it's really helpful for people to see because they can see the impact of the things they are doing and saying in the fandom. There are a lot of people who feel comfortable being vocal in the fandom, but I gotta say, if I were just joining now, I'm not sure that would be me. I wonder how many people walk in, take a look around, and walk the fuck back out. I probably would.

I got on my soap box a little bit because I was thinking about some of the things you've said!

I was just talking with some friends, some of whom I've been in the fandom with since 2017, some who are newer. And we all 1000% agree with you. It's so, so frustrating that the fandom has gotten so nasty to the point where we've become so separated from each other that we can't have a single civil conversation. Where people of color don't feel safe, and where a lot of the fandom doesn't even seem to care about that.

When I first joined the fandom, there were definitely people who shipped one way and people who shipped another, but we were still able to have conversations with each other. There would be these really, really long posts that were chains of people commenting on posts and reblogging, then someone adding on their thoughts, then op would respond, etc. Yeah, the posts were super long to scroll through, but there was so much engagement, ya know? And it was genuine, too. We could disagree or say "hey OP I like this point, but have you thought of X?" And it was great! (I even have a tag for it, #long post tag, because I once got an anon who was annoyed at how long my conversations with people would be 💀so I made that tag for people who wanted to block those posts.)

I'm not going to pretend it was perfect - there were definitely people I didn't get along with. But that wasn't a fandom thing, that was just a personality thing. And I never in a million years expected those people to fly off the handle and start attacking me anon, or to ss my posts to make fun of elsewhere. Now, that's a constant fear hanging over everyone's heads.

It has created an extreme echo chamber. I would genuinely like having those old fandom discussions where people would comment - in the open, on reblogs - and then we could all engage in that discussion in public. Now, all of that discussion happens in private, in groupchats and Discord. And don't get me wrong, Discord is super fun. But it also means that 1) people who aren't in those groups have no idea wtf is going on when we vague, although I try not to do that anyway, and 2) when people are in those groups they egg each other on to be worse and worse. Worse than they would have been if they were on their own and didn't feel like they had a group of people there to support their asshole behavior. tbh, I have to check myself sometimes and think, "would I do this if I hadn't just gotten into a rant conversation with friends on Discord?"

And what you said about fan art, it's so frustrating!!! Since when did fan art become a battle ground??? Since when did the appearance of fan art = a win for one ship or the other?? Why can't the comments of those arts ever just be nice and appreciative of the work someone has put into it? Honestly, it makes me paranoid to write fanfic, too! I mean, is that next???

I totally agree with you that we should be able to respect each other as people. We used to be able to do that. I hate to admit it, but I have so many people blocked now because I just don't trust them. I don't trust them to be civil, I don't trust them to be able to see my posts, I don't trust them to even read what I've written without misconstruing everything I've said.

I'm not sure if people realize that there is a big difference between this:

I don't like X ship

And this:

People who like X ship are delusional

The first one is okay! It's normal! Like you said, we all have feelings and interpretations and stuff we would prefer to see or not see!

The second one, not okay! Stop insulting people, people!!!!

The idea of engaging in a normal, healthy debate with a huge portion of the fandom is such a foreign concept to me at this point, and it never used to be. There could be a lot of reasons for this. And I always try to avoid pointing fingers because I know that not everyone is like that, though I'm sure I have slipped into that from time to time.

I think it would help if we stop seeing each other as a gwynriel or an elucien or an elriel, and start seeing each other as individuals. When acosf first came out, I started noticing a trend where people would send me asks and write them as if they were writing to every single person who ships elucien, or as if they were writing to every single person who holds a certain opinion about Azriel. It was really confusing at first, and I'm gonna request that the fandom stop doing that altogether, to everyone. If you want to engage with someone, engage with that person, not your idea of who they are and what they think.

I'm down for conversations where we talk about the series and what might come next as possibilities, because that's all this is, so far. Anyone who says that "X thing will never happen" is making some bold claims, and it's really off-putting to people who know that that's not why we are here. It's not a contest where we "win" canon. It's fandom, where we talk about what we like and what we don't like and what we want and cross our fingers and hope.

EDIT I wanted to add on one thing - a lot of this behavior is incredibly shocking and disgusting and I think that we, as a fandom, need to be better at 1) calling it out, and 2) not assuming that whoever did X horrible thing represents all people from that corner of the fandom.

I hope that you have a lovely day as well! And that the fandom doesn't get you too down. @heleencollier

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

[aoitrinity]

The “Me Too”

DISCLAIMER: I am about to put forth further speculation about a major Destiel-related event from this season, specifically the confession scene in 15x18. This is 100% pure speculation and I do not claim to have any insider knowledge AT ALL. If you are not in a place to read such things, please go take care of yourself instead of reading this. Do not cause yourself any additional pain. 

If you are here to be an asshole and call me delusional...uh...I mean, go for it, but like I really don’t get what that’s doing to make your life better? If shitting on people’s desire for understanding a TV show brings you joy then uh...that says more about you than it does about me?

With that out of the way...read below the cut for my theory about the “me too” line.

I know I just unloaded my theory about the finale on all of you the other day, and that I should probably give you all a break in between my bouts of theory-dumping, but I had to get this out here tonight.

If you somehow haven’t seen it yet these last few (painfully exhausting) days, there is a rumor going around of a cut in episode 15x18 of a specific line--a “me too” that Jensen supposedly recorded during the 15x18 sequence, which would have given us all textual validation not only that Cas is in love with Dean, but that Dean is in love with Cas. Various people have been trying to confirm or deny this rumor since it surfaced. We all figured it would have happened during the final scene, with Dean crying, alone. It would have been there in place of the crying, and we hypothesized that Jensen had to dub it over with AMR of his sobs. It was an interesting thought, but we had no real proof it ever happened. I, for my part, started to assume it was entirely false.

But then tonight, on the Latin American CW, we apparently discovered that in the Spanish-language dub of 15x18, they had taken Dean’s last line to Cas, “Don’t do this Cas,” and dubbed it as “yo a ti”--translated to “me too,” seemingly confirming to us that the line did exist!

I watched the clip of the dub excitedly, hoping for some secret new shot that we had been robbed of in the original episode, but the “me too” was simply dubbed over Dean’s line of “Don’t do this Cas,” which is definitely something Dean very clearly said in the original recording. That wasn’t a dub, Jensen said that line.

So what gives? Where the heck did the “me too” come from?

Well, as apparently I am wont to do recently...I talked @winchester-reload‘s ear off and was eventually hit with a stroke of realization. 

I don’t think the “me too” went in the crying scene. I think Dean said it to Cas’s face, and we were robbed of it.

Before I go any further, I want to again remind you that this is PURE SPECULATION. PLEASE JUDGE FOR YOURSELF AND ALWAYS BE SKEPTICAL.

So.

The original end of the scene runs as follows:

Dean: Why does this sound like a goodbye?

Cas: Because it is. I love you.

Dean: Don’t do this, Cas.

*a longing exchange of looks, with Cas smiling through his tears even more broadly than he was earlier*

*the Empty appears and Dean starts to panic*

Cas: Goodbye Dean.

*Cas throws Dean out the way, smiles at him one last time, and is taken*

Now that always struck me as a sort of weird exchange because...I mean, Dean can tell Cas not to “do this,” but whatever he was going to do that would get his ass taken by the Empty, he had clearly already done. But I originally handwaved it as Dean begging Cas not to go and leave him again by dying, even though it was too late, because I was too entranced with the beauty of the scene and of the performances to imagine anything otherwise.

However, after this Spanish-language dub story broke this evening, I started to wonder if the exchange had initially gone a little bit differently. 

What if the “don’t do this, Cas” was pulled from earlier in the scene? 

I would have originally imagined that it actually went between the “Because it is” and the “I love you,” but in the leaked shots of script we got a few days ago, there doesn’t seem to be any line there--Cas goes straight from his “because it is” to the “I love you.” Thus I conclude one of two things: either the line it was adlibbed or added by Jensen on the spot, between the “because it is” and the “I love you,” or it was dialogue that originally came earlier in the scene.

Either way, what matters is that I think that line, “Don’t do this, Cas,” was moved to after Cas’s “I love you” in the final cut and replaced the “me too.” I think the initial episode probably followed the Latin American dub instead, and went like this (with the one line inserted where I feel it best fits, though again, it could have come from earlier):

Dean: Why does this sound like a goodbye?

Cas: Because it is.

(Dean: Don’t do this, Cas)

Cas: I love you.

Dean: ...me too.

*a longing exchange of looks, with Cas smiling through his tears even more broadly than he was earlier*

*the Empty appears and Dean starts to panic*

Cas: Goodbye Dean.

*Cas throws Dean out the way, smiles at him one last time, and is taken*

Well.

Doesn’t that all hit a bit differently now? Doesn’t it now make sense why, after Dean’s line, Cas starts smiling more broadly than he was during the entire rest of the scene? Doesn’t it make sense now that when Dean turns to look back at the Empty emerging, there are way more tears in his eyes than there were in the prior shot? Doesn’t Dean’s body language line up better between shots if we read it this way? Doesn’t it make Cas’s sacrifice hurt both more and less at the same time, because he could go to the Empty knowing he was loved in return? That he had the one thing he wanted most? 

To me, at least, it does. 

Unfortunately, I think that, similar to what I speculate happened with the finale...they were told by the network that they had to cut Dean’s reciprocation because the CW panicked about coming off as too gay at the last moment. You can read all about that in my other post.

Anyway, here’s more food for thought. Remember @oceaxe-ifdawn’s post about how she had spoken with a cast member about how the script for the finale was being frantically rewritten in March, the weekend after they finished shooting for 15x18? Why would they suddenly have to start tossing out their own ending in MARCH? TWO WEEKS before they were supposed to start filming the finale?

What if it was because that was the moment when the network started to pivot? If their contacts on set told them how very beautifully homosexually gay the scene was, and that was the moment that the CW decided that they couldn’t risk losing a very specific (conservative, heterosexual) part of their fanbase and needed to start toning down the gay before it got out of hand? And since they couldn’t obviously go back and reshoot anything for 15x18, given everyone then immediately went into quarantine for COVID, they had to remove Dean’s reciprocation from the script and replace it with another, earlier shot, that could have FEASIBLY gone in its place. But they couldn’t take Cas’s confession because it was entirely necessary to the whole plot of the season (and that, I think, was a fucking genius move by the writers to at least get us this much--god bless you, Bobo).

And this way, the CW could actually have their cake and eat it too--they could claim they were still being accepting of queer people (look, we let Cas confess his affection for Dean!) while avoiding the potential loss of their favorite cishet male audience (whom they really want to transition to Walker after all of this is over because MONEY) that they might suffer if that audience discovered that one of their two “traditionally masculine” lead characters was in love with another man this whole time.

The only reason they didn’t carry it all off is that, when they needed to send the script over to the Spanish-language dubbers for recording, there was some sort of screw-up. They somehow forgot to have the dialogue swapped out back in March and the lines were never replaced in the dub script.

And that is how we got the “me too” line from Dean in Latin America tonight, a line that we had  heard rumors existed, but had no actual evidence of... until now.

I’m sorry to have pulled you guys into this theory with me, but... It just lines up too perfectly. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, yes, but sometimes that cigar is actually a dick. A big, beautiful, gay dick that your stupid homophobic TV network executives are censoring because they are afraid of the reactions of their more conservative viewership.

On the plus side, I think that this more than ever confirms that Destiel is and was always canon. Textually. Reciprocally. 110%. 

And the CW fucking robbed us of it.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 8

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bucky entered the bar wearing a neat, black expensive suit, a Rolex sticking out of his left sleeve. He unfastened two buttons by his waist and flung both sides of the suit in the air before sitting down on the stool. He rolled up his sleeves, his lean forearms in plain sight under the incandescent lights hanging by the counter.

Your eyes lingered longer than they should have so you shook your head and ignored his gaze, getting back to work.

"Fancy seeing you back here, James." Out of nowhere, a slight giggle came out from your mouth, pushing the tap handle up and briskly pushing Bucky's hand away. Your eyes found his, whilst you waited for the liquid to fill the beer mug. "I'll get back on you later. I have to give this beer to that son of a bitch over there."

You glanced at the man from earlier who was still giving you a death-like stare.

Bucky responded with a short chuckle and waited for you to finish. You opened your mouth to call Nick but decided against it, calling for Nat instead, who was holding a tray of chicken wings. Nat usually only had three shifts a week but since you were understaffed this week, she had the decency to help out.

"By the way, is Peter here?" Bucky asked.

You glanced at Peter's briefcase. "Yes, he came here straight from an urgent work thing. He just needed to go to the toilet."

"Good, good, that's good." He kept nodding his head, staring at absolutely nothing at all.

You waved your hand in front of his face. "Bucky? You okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm good." He answered but you weren't convinced. He looked at Peter's briefcase and the beer bottle beside it. "Is that Peter's drink?"

The realization dawned on you once those words slipped out of his mouth. You pursed your lips then nodded. "I tried talking him out of it before but he never listened. You know how Peter is. Stubborn as a damn rock."

"That he is."

"Are you going to talk to him about it?"

"I think so, but not now. I think now's not the right time." He replied. "So, how about that drink, doll?" He asked, swiftly changing the subject.

You ignored the shivers starting to slither on your skin when you heard his little nickname for you. You have been called other nicknames in the bar, including doll, but not one had an effect on you.

Except Bucky.

While grabbing a glass on the counter, you continued to stare at him you felt absolutely nothing. "I feel like you're more of an old-fashioned guy." you commented.

Bucky didn't say anything but a smile formed on his pink plump lips as you made him a glass of old-fashioned. Besides, you can never go wrong with the original cocktail.

Once you were finished, he held the glass near his face, his nose hovering above the drink.

"You know, I've had so many old-fashioned. Smells nothing like this." Then, he took a tiny sip, released a puff of breath and clicked his tongue. "But damn, if it isn't the best old-fashioned I ever had."

You suppressed a giggle. Instead, you smirked at him. "You're not the only one who can make a mean drink, Bucky Barnes."

He chuckled and went on to say that his was still better since it was his own drink and not a classic one. You weren't much of the condescending type so you agreed with him. You could never make your own drink; only the ones you've learned from Steve from the past year.

By the time Bucky devoured the whole drink, Peter had arrived. He was so loud that everyone in the bar turned their heads towards Peter who practically jumped on Bucky from a feet from where he was standing.

"Parker, keep it the fuck down." You scolded Peter like how a mother scolds a child. But with the curses.

Peter gave you an apologetic look as he sat down on the high stool. "Oh, wait, guess who came by the office today," before he could even let you guess, he jumped straight to the answer, "Wanda."

Your actions stopped the moment you heard Wanda's name but moved on eventually. You ignored Peter's eyes while you wiped the counter table, even though it was already squeaky clean. "Maximoff?"

"Yes, Wanda Maximoff! Our team got her as the head photographer for the clothing line account we landed on." He stated.

"Who's Wanda?" Bucky interrupted, curious about the whole thing.

"She's this friend of y/n's who used to tag along with her almost everyday in NYU." Peter replied. "She's also a photographer."

Peter went on about the whole clothing line account for a few minutes. It was mostly about how he and his team landed a "cool photographer" like Wanda. Sunday was the only time Wanda was free so they took an opportunity to talk to her.

Must be nice to be so busy all the damn time.

Peter proceeded to talk so highly of her and all the work she'd done in just a shy of a  year in the industry. If you remembered correctly, the only time Peter and Wanda ever spoke to one another was when Wanda came to borrow something of yours and asked Peter if you were home. Now, he talked about her as if he'd known her for years.

Your eyes lazily wandered to the photographs you've shown Bucky this morning on the wall. Suddenly, it was eerily silent inside your head. No jukebox noise, no television noise, no rowdy noise; nothing.

It had been three years and you haven't accomplished anything that could fill your heart's content. No photos in magazines, not even on the damn streets. They were just here on the bar, camouflaged among the walls.

When your eyes found Peter and Bucky's, Peter had just finished his little story with Wanda starting to work with them for the next few weeks. "This is the biggest account my team has ever gotten. I am so excited!"

"I'm glad everything has been working out for you, Peter." Bucky placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, patting him.

"I just want to be like you, Buck."

Bucky glanced at you for a second. He let go of Peter's shoulder. He didn't respond to him. He just offered Peter a smile.

The two talked the whole night while you were pulled in every direction as more people came. You were making drinks left and right. The people by the counter had their eyes set on somewhere else. The television right above the counter. The billiards table. The jukebox. People dancing by the jukebox. Good-looking ladies being jeered at by single men, and vice-versa.

But only a pair of eyes was watching you move around: Bucky's.

You had caught him staring quite a few times the whole four hours you were working at the bar even though he was conversing with Peter. The whole time making and handing drinks to people, you kept thinking if Peter and Bucky were talking about you. Usually, you would eavesdrop in other people's conversations — of course, these were strangers. You didn't think you could do that to both Peter and Bucky. You shut your ears whenever you'd come near them but it wasn't as if they could be heard, anyway. You could barely hear the conversation with the television on, the jukebox playing and all the people buzzing in the bar — but you did catch some words like "Stark", "White Wolf", "home", and some country names.

All of a sudden, you stopped obsessing on the subject of their conversation. Your mind was then wrapped around with thoughts on Wanda and how, in just one year, she had already accomplished so much in her career whilst you were still here, juggling two jobs. You weren't the jealous type but the more you thought about it, the more those ugly feelings grew. Your photos on the damn walls were not much of a help. They just reminded you that you were a failure, that this was what you get for being a mediocre photographer and for settling for a menial job.

But you had to do what you needed to do in order to survive in this cruel world.

You did try and apply for some big advertising and business companies while working in the bar but luck was never on your side. There were always better ones, or ones who had connections. The latter one was just one of the many reasons why you hated big corporations.

"Who's the rich guy?" Whisking you from your train of thoughts was Nat. She was holding a tray full of canned beers and some fries, and caught up with you.

You walked towards the booth together.

"That's Bucky. Peter's stepbrother." You and Nat gave the food and beverage to the people in the booth.

"He'd been eyeing you for the past few hours." She hugged her tray on her chest as you walked back to the counter. "And you know what I think, y/n?"

"Nat — "

"He wants a piece of you."

You and Nat weren't as close as people would think you were. You only hung out in the workplace. And by hang out, you meant talking (even gossiping) while working.

"Please, he's so much older than me."

"That's what makes it hotter, dumbass."

"When was it ever hot?"

"Duh, those lingering stares he'd been giving you." She raised an eyebrow, stopping at the edge of the counter. "I'm telling you, he wants you."

"He's Peter's stepbrother, Nat. It's inappropriate!"

"It's not like he's his biological brother. And besides, I think it's..." She leaned in and whispered. "Thrilling."

You rolled your eyes. "And I think you're delusional."

"Think whatever you want to think." Nat chuckled. "But the facts are right there. He wants to get a taste of you, and you of him. Ciao, bitch."

And with that, she spun around, her red hair lost in the sea of strangers.

By the time your shift was ending, you removed the apron and hung it on the coat rack near Steve's office at the back. Your instinct was to go to Steve's office and let him know that your shift was over but you just remembered that he was in Rhode Island with his family. You lost the grip on the knob then went back to the counter and tapped Peter's shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Bucky.

"Already?" Peter asked in disbelief. "Wow, it's true what they say. Time flies by when people are catching up."

You squinted your eyes at him. "I literally have never heard someone say that, Parker."

"Really, never?"

"Never." You replied, opening the passthrough. "Now, let's go."

"Wait," Peter said, "I have to go to the toilet real quick."

"Our apartment is right above this bar. You can just go there."

"Sorry, y/n. This can't wait." He sped towards the toilet, practically flying. You sighed and took his seat, facing Bucky.

"Hey, doll." He said in a voice that could make any woman swoon and fall on the floor. Bucky's voice was raspier than you remembered, breath with a hint of whiskey mixed with beer. "Haven't spoken to you in a while."

"Sunday nights can be busy as well."

"So, I've seen." He hummed. "This is your everyday life, huh?"

"Except Mondays. We're closed on Mondays. And except when I have some photography gig." You replied then whispered the next part: "Which I haven't been getting lately."

"Isn't Sunday," he laughed, "supposed to be a rest day?"

"In our bible, it's Monday."

Before Bucky could even speak, Peter came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "If you just accepted that job offer at our company, we would've been working together, y/n."

You playfully shrugged him off. "You were thinking about that while peeing? Weirdo. Plus, Wanda has a lot more experience than I have."

"But — "

"Come on, let's go. You're drunk." You lifted off his arm and turned towards Bucky. "You take him. He's a bit hard to handle when he's this drunk."

Bucky walked ahead, guiding Peter towards the door. Before you could even follow the two, Nat patted your shoulder. You spun around, meeting her suggestive eyes. Without even a second thought, she pulled your tight v-top even lower and spilled some drink on your exposed cleavage.

"Nat, what the damn hell!" You hissed.

"Trust me on this, babe." She scrunched up her nose. "Go get some rich dick." She twirled your body so easily then slapped your ass. You wanted to shout at Nat but you didn't want to cause a scene in the bar and the moment had already passed as she disappeared amongst the crowd once again.

You caught up towards Bucky and Peter, opening the door for them.

The walk towards the apartment unit was tedious and was accompanied by Peter's hilarious commentaries about every little thing he saw on the way. As Bucky's arm was getting sore, you helped lift Peter up as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You felt Bucky's eyes on you as you lifted Peter's right arm, slinging it across your shoulders. You came face to face with Bucky, his eyes somewhere underneath your neck. You cleared my throat to get his attention.

"Uh," he stammered, "you got some alcohol on your... uh..."

"Oh, yeah. Don't mind that. Some idiot spilled on me." Nat really was some idiot.

A genius idiot.

Peter immediately hugged his pillow once we placed him on his bed. You leaned in and kissed his forehead good night. "I hope you have a heavy hangover tomorrow, Parker."

You turned around only to be blocked by Bucky's towering figure. "Sorry." You mumbled, looking down on your feet.

"It's alright, doll." He replied, making some space for you to walk on.

You headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water and Bucky followed suit, tossing his suit jacket on the couch as if he was living in your place.

"You should go get changed." He spoke.

You rolled your eyes, finishing up your water.

"Okay, daddy." Of course, you meant it as a joke as it sounded so much funnier in your head — not so much said out loud.

Bucky's eyes lit up with curiosity, walking towards you. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." You replied quickly. "I absolutely said nothing."

He just continued to stare as he strode towards you. You just stayed frozen in your place, unable to process what was about to happen. You backed away from Bucky as he neared you, your back hitting the fridge. He stopped right in front of you. He looked so much different when you first saw him. His eyes had become darker and stared with so much intensity and intention.

"You know, you're something else." He licked his lower lip.

"I don't know what you mean, Bucky."

He traced your jawline with his finger and tilted your chin up. "I can't quite put my finger on you, doll, but you're really something else."

You weren't ready for something to happen so you walked as quickly as you could towards your bedroom, locked the door behind me and leaned against it. Your breathing was quite uneven and your heart thudded like fast bullets on the ground.

You looked down on your sticky chest that reeked of vodka. You pursed your lips together. "Natasha Romanoff, you son of a bitch."

[agoddamn]

Kenobi time

>certain scenes in this fictional series may contain scenes upsetting to viewers

oh BOY

oh boy, time for the flashbacks to emotionally destroy fandom

that said, why AOTC-era over ROTS I wonder? Ewan's hairline is looking a little sad lmao they're both looking very 'trying so hard to pretend I'm twenty years younger'

oh, so here's all the people I was wondering exi--HAJA?!

how the FUCK is he alive????

plant?

anyway, what exactly are these people anyway? They seemed to imply that they were Force-sensitives, but there's a lot of them

so Reva didn't just toss a tracker on Lola, she totally reprogrammed her in the ~10 seconds she had grabbed her? I mean, sure, whatever

my saber recognition skills aren't what they used to be, but one of those things looks a bit like Mace Windu's to me?

even past!Obi-wan looks insanely rumpled lmao

this back thing is. weirdly sexual

general :] aww, he took the robe

Obi-wan: she SAID she wanted pickles

Roken has a wookie bowcaster

shakycam why

this is 6 eps long so I suppose we're coming up on the climax, right? Somehow it doesn't feel like it, I guess because every ep has a big dramatic fight sequence in it?

[Obi-wan catching up with what we all knew from ep 1]

does Anakin have his eye scar here? Something about his face looks weird

would be awfully nice if there were like, one grenade in this whole rebel cell

RIP Tala we hardly knew ye but you still lasted an ep longer than I was betting so good job

oh hey! I guess she had the only grenade

>hands cuffed in front

amateur move

"there are other ways to fight, like 4d psychological warfare"

cinematography guys went really extreme with the lightsaber reflected lighting; too hard, I think. How are they out here in full bright daylight and the saber is what's illuminating Anakin's face? They also still look way too saturated to me. Colored light doesn't look like this--the color of a colored light is paler than what's giving it off, always. The sabers in ANH are nearly white; the 100% saturation blue just doesn't look good

LMAO THAT WAS THE DECOY SHIP

...that was some mediocre-looking CQC, Obi-wan

we about to get choking?

underwhelming flashback fight. I thought the reveal there was gonna be Anakin using Force choke, not Obi-Wan pointing out that CQC exists

remember how I said that Reva was a proxy for Obi-wan to have the flashy Vader fights he couldn't? -spreads hands-

>helicopter music stops

you know, I think Reva should have gotten to be more unhinged. "I'll falseflag Vader" is a fucking insane plan and Reva thinking she can play at being a Sith without staining herself would have been great

>Grand Inquisitor, who is also a former Jedi, obsessed with calling Reva gutter trash

He's enough of a delusional dick that this is perfectly IC, but still

>Tala dies from one blaster wound to the stomach and Reva walks off lightsaber impalement

You know what, whatever

...okay, no, I'm sorry, tying the comic relief to the serious dramatic plot is a bad move and it's always gonna be a bad move. It was bad with Jar-Jar and it's bad here; the celebrity casting makes it feel even worse because Haja is clearly here to be comic relief and not a nuanced character. "Whoops Kumar dropped Obi-wan's phone, that rascal!" god please no

[tinyboxxtink]

"Black Magic" *Part 6*

Part 5

Part 7

Okay so this one's a bit shorter, but like I said I want to try and keep it a "day" a chapter. Also, I don't think you want this day to be ANY longer.

....I'm so sorry.

Also also---- I'm going out now. I'M SO SORRY.

I'll post another chapter tonight....be strong my babies!

Side note how perfect is the gif with the angry barba and the smirking Olivia....I mean.... what?

Tag List:

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@omgsuperstarg

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@gibbs274

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@aprildecker-blog

@lolliepopsicle

@madamsnape921

@stars-trash-18

-------

You arrived at the door of Rafael's office early once again, knocking this time. You looked like a million bucks. You had taken at least an hour to get ready, your outfit, your hair, your makeup. You were ready to make a move. You knocked again. There was no answer. He should be there, maybe he didn’t hear you. You knocked a little louder. Where could he be? You decided to take a peek and peer open his door to see the most horrifying sight:

Rafael and Olivia, making out on his desk. They both snapped back when they heard the door open.

“Y/N!!” He yelled angrily. “Don't you knock?”

“Oh.. oh my God I'm so sorry sir I'm really sorry. I just brought your morning coffee sir,” You were upset, embarrassed , confused , distraught unable to speak, unable to think.

“Well you should learn not to peep on other people Y/N,” Olivia gave you an evil smirk. “I should get going anyway baby,” she rubbed the lipstick off Rafael's lips. “I have a long day.”

“Oh but I'll miss you carino,” Rafael whined while rubbing his nose against hers in a disgusting fashion.

“I know baby, but maybe we'll have lunch?” She messed with his collar.

“You can count on it,” Rafael growled seductively, smacking her butt as she walked towards the door. “Two can play at your game,” she whispered at you as she walked out

Oh my god. Oh my God oh my god!! How did she know? How was it possible? So many things went through your head at that moment.

“I um, I left something at my desk,” You lied quickly as you headed out the door.

“Olivia!” You called after her angrily suddenly overwhelmed with courage. She stopped and turned and stared at you

“Really? Got some balls on you now do you?”

“What did you do?” You demanded.

“I didn't do anything to him.” She acted innocent. “He just realized that his feelings for me were there all along,” she batted her eyes mockingly. “Isn't that what you did?”

“It's not real!” You barked. “You know it's not real. It'll wear off by tomorrow,”

“Oh I really don't think it will” She held up a water bottle in her purse and it was filled with a….purple liquid? Yep it was purple. Why was it purple? Did she make it stronger? Oh God how strong did she make it?

“Olivia you can't do this to him. I stopped and realized if it wasn't real, I didn't want it.”

“Oh that's bullshit.” She rolled her eyes. “You just brought him his morning coffee. You and I both know that it has that stuff in it. You just needed to refill him but I got there first.”

“No that's not true! You yelled, tears stinging your eyes now. “And he loves me. I know he does.”

“Oh my God you are delusional,” she laughed.” Look I'm happy you had a fun day yesterday but you’re out of your league here, sweetie. He's mine and he always will be? Got it?” She smirked again, then turned and stomped away in her heels leaving you there speechless.

----

You were furious, you were confused, you were upset and then you realized that you had to still continue this day as if nothing was different. Nothing was wrong. You wondered how strong Olivia's stuff was. You wondered what the rules were. Did it block out his feelings for you completely and only focus on her? Did it wipe any memory of you and him at all? Could you break it? You had so many questions you needed to call Chloe but you know you couldn't until your break so you sucked it up and walked back into Rafael's office.

“I'm really sorry about that so earlier,” You did your best to keep from crying. He looked at you with an almost look of disdain.

“Yeah well you really need to be more professional, Y/N.” He scoffed.

"Now you really need to get me copies of these prepositions by noon so that I can go to lunch with my beloved and then go to court.”

“Your beloved?” You spat unintentionally, wanting to gag.

“Excuse you?” He gave you an angry look.

"Look I know that you have some kind of crazy crush on me, but you need to learn that what me and my girlfriend have is something you can't get between so you really need to either control yourself or I will relieve you of your services.” He glared at you.

You couldn't breathe, you felt your heart beating in your chest and your ears. Your palms were sweating, you were having a panic attack. What the hell did she put in her concoction? How did she make him turn so harshly against you?

“I... Yes sir, sorry sir, right away sir,” You whispered grabbing the papers from him running out of the office.

Finally after you got Rafael his copies and he stormed out of his office to go meet his “beloved”, you took the break to call Chloe in tears.

-----

“Oh My God, what happened honey?” She asked, immediately hearing your sobs over the phone.

“She did it,” You sobbed.

“Who did what now?”

“She found the spell! Or some spell. I don't know what she did. I don't know how she could have-- I don't know what she did!!!” You kept sobbing uncontrollably not being able to form coherent thoughts.

“Okay, I'm going to need you to slow down,” Chloe said in a calming manner. “Breathe honey. Use your words. Now explain to me exactly what happened,”

You took several deep breaths trying to compose yourself so that you could explain what was happening to her.

“I went into Rafael's office this morning, and he was making out with that vile woman,” You sniffled.

“What vile woman?”

“Olivia, his ‘beloved’,” you rolled your eyes through your tears.

“His beloved?”

“It's some woman that he works with, and apparently has been in love with him forever. She somehow, I don't know how, figured out what we did to him and she somehow found her own spell. Which I'm pretty sure is not the same one, because it was a purple liquid. AND she not only created feelings for her, she made him hate me!!” You continued to sob.

“...Oh,” Was all Chloe could say.

“OH…?!” You scoffed. “I thought you said that magic laws frowned upon spells like that, controlling people's free will!”

“It does! Good magic anyway,” She sighed.

“What the hell does that mean?” You yelled angrily.

“Well I mean you know there's good witches and bad witches,”

“Oh my God, what in the Wizard Of Oz fuckery--”

“I don't know what to tell you honey. That's how it is. There's good magic and there's black magic. Black magic is all selfish and self-indulgent and instant gratification. She must have gone to somebody who deals in that,”

“Who could it be?”

“I don't know! It's not like they're listed in the yellow pages! WAIT-- Oh my God I think I might have an idea,” Chloe suddenly paused. “...But you're not going to believe me,”

“Oh my God what does that mean?” you asked wearily.

“Well.. you've seen all the movies right? You know like Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White,”

“Oh God. Are you seriously going to tell me that true love's kiss can break the spell?”

“Well.. you really don't have any other options right now, do you?”

“CHLOE those are Disney movies for fuck’s sake!!”

“Hey, remember Once Upon A Time? THAT was the ‘real world’, and true love’s kiss brought magic to our world!” Chloe pointed out.

“THAT’S A TV SHOW!!!!!”

“I don't know what else you want me to say here babe. But you should do it. Unless you want to lose him forever to this “Olivia” person. You said that she had a lot of it, right? She could keep this up for as long as she wants. AND the more she gives him the stronger it's going to be and the harder it is going to be to break. I mean he might end up really hating you and firing you, and then your whole life will be ruined. You not only need to break this spell for you to be happy, but before it impacts your entire life,” Chloe warned.

“Oh my God, oh my god…” You whimpered. “I should have never done this.”

“Hey chin up this will work out I'm sure of it!” She said in a chipper tone.

“Okay Jiminy,” You rolled your eyes as you hung up and went back to your office. You did your best to continue with the rest of the day, trying to stay out of Rafael’s way. Which wasn't hard, considering that he was in court most of the day. Around four he texted you and told you that he was no longer in need of your services for the day so you could go home early. Oh also he just HAD to add that he was going to go out with Liv. You wanted to vomit. You headed home and went to brainstorm with Chloe.

-----

“Okay so I've been researching black magic. Chloe had papers sprawled out all over her bed when you came home. “She must have used a combination of love and hate spells.”

“Wait, so you mean actual love spells? Like actually creating fictitious love? Not just magnifying what he felt for her?”

“Correct” she nodded. “I don't think he ever had real feelings for her.”

“Well he said that she and him had a thing, and that he thought about her like that when they first met. So maybe it was going off of that,” You shrugged sadly.

“Another thing we need to figure out is how to get the rest of the potion from her somehow,”

“And just HOW do you expect me to do that?!”

“I don’t...I don’t know,” She shrugged, sifting through her research.

“Chloe, give me something you DO know,” You rubbed your temples; this was giving you a migraine.

“Okay… well, maybe if I talk to my other friends they can figure out a way to counteract the effects even just a little, if you're not willing to or unable to get true love's kiss,”

“Oh God--”

“Hey, I'm just saying”

“Whatever.” You sighed. “My head hurts, my heart hurts, everywhere hurts Chloe,” You whined. “I just want this to be over,”

“Okay honey just-- just go get some sleep, I’ll figure out a game plan for you to use tomorrow,”

“Okay...thank you,” You gave her a small hug and went to your room.

You went to bed with a deep feeling of dread.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 8

Day 8 - The temperature of your chest gets hotter when you are closer to your soulmate and colder when you move further away. (D&D AU)

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, Romantic Background Analogical

TWs: Swearing

–

“Oh I adore being made out to be the bad guy here.”

“You robbed the lair of the Dragon Witch! It’s literally your fault that we are mired in this bog of despair!”

Roman’s accusation rang loudly within the wagon as they made the long ride back to Amoresse to rest for the night. Janus rolled his serpentine eyes, 

“You, dear delusional knight, are totally not the one who went and killed said Dragon Witch, thus leaving her treasure for the taking.”, the half Yuan-Ti hissed, appropriately, “Besides, you can absolutely take the moral high ground here when you stole her crown at the first opportunity.”

The pristine elven knight gasped dramatically, clutching his figurative pearls at such an accusation! 

“This is an outrage-!”

“Both of you shut the fuck up or I’m driving this wagon off the nearest goddamn cliff!!”

Roman and Janus both immediately quietened down at the threat issued so casually by their wagon driver as the dhampir hissed curses under his breath. The two in the back glared at each other back and forth, avoiding looking towards the wrecked fabric of the canopy and the splintered wood. In Roman’s defense, he hadn’t known that grabbing the crown specifically would cause the Dragon Witch’s castle to fall to ruin around them. He’d realised his mistake almost immediately when he felt the dark magic radiating off of it. However, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that was the case. Especially not around Janus, the damn snake wouldn’t let him live it down. 

Being careful to pick his moment, Roman hazarded a glance over at the reptilian rapscallion eyeing up his spoils; Janus was an enigmatic entity to Roman, showing such sophistication and poise while also being prone to stumbling over his words or his own two feet in the same breath. Unabashedly, he displayed selfishness unrivalled by even the most aristocratic nobility, but in a pinch, was fully able to toss aside even the most valuable of artifacts to save a life. 

Roman had tried not to think about it. The noble and chivalrous knight, Roman of Sandaria, being saved from the jaws of death by a conman who, by all accounts, he had fully expected to leave him to die. The elven man wasn’t sure where his resentment lay; perhaps Roman thought he should’ve been able to save himself, perhaps he felt guilty for misjudging Janus but couldn’t find it in him to admit it, or perhaps it was an underlying prejudice from his training days. Yeah, he really  didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, Roman made his way to sit up front next to the moody wagon driver, making light conversation,

“I should be the one manning the wagon, your highness.”

“Roman, I’ve told you before, you can just call me by my name.”, the dhampir met Roman with piercing silver eyes, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand my- Virgil,”, he corrected at the last second, “Nothing’s wrong. Aside from the fact you refuse to allow me to call you by your title-”

“That’s horseshit and you know it, Roman.”, Virgil kept his eyes on the road, anxious over the possibility of a crash if he kept his gaze averted too long, “I’ve known you since we were kids, I can tell when you’re lying. Besides, being called ‘your highness’ feels wrong as it is. Coming from you? It’s even fucking weirder than this whole marrying into royalty thing...”

Roman rolled his eyes but sat closer to offer Virgil a one-armed hug. The latter gave it a moment before accepting the gesture, “Virgil, you’ll be fine. If any one of us was suited to princedom, I cannot think of a better candidate. And your future husband is unreasonably attractive, so I don’t see what you have to complain about-”

“Oh my god, shut UP!”, Virgil chuckled and shoved Roman playfully. “I mean, you’re not wrong but the last thing I need is to think too hard about Logan and crash this stupid fucking shambles of a wagon!” 

The lighthearted banter did wonders to distract Roman until Virgil managed to get things back on track unfortunately, “Now, stop deflecting and tell me what’s got you so gloomy, Sir-Sing-A-Lot.”

Roman rolled his eyes at the old nickname, “I’m fine, Virge, really. I merely wish our cascading castle adventure had been a little less…ruinous.”

“.... Was that a fucking pun-”

“Ahem.”, Janus cleared his throat from behind the two of them, “I do so loathe to interrupt.... whatever this is,”, he gestured between the two of them, “But I believe that’s our stop up ahead. Wouldn’t want to go destroying that as well.”

With that, the serpentine rogue slunk back into the wagon. Roman muttered something under his breath, inaudible to Virgil, before reluctantly joining the scaled nuisance bagging up his wares. The elven knight made sure to keep his crown tucked into his rucksack, just in case thievery was something to be wary of in Amoresse. The town’s reputation, however, gave Roman hope that their visit would prove more helpful than hindering; the rumours told of a town renowned for helping wayward, lonely souls find their soulmates. As a single, disaster gay, Roman sure hoped the rumours were true. Truly he could think of nothing sadder than turning up alone to his best friend’s wedding.

Getting booked into their rooms at the tavern was a far easier ordeal than having to endure the overly chaotic gate guard to the city. The bizarre tiefling had spent so long rambling on and on about the most grotesque topics that by the time they had successfully secured a wagon bay, the moon now shone in all her celestial beauty. Virgil had suggested resting for the night, and despite Roman’s urging that they stay together, Janus had been insistent on checking out the nightlife. The knight had been content to let him do so while he guarded the prince, but the tired dhampir insisted he too take the night to enjoy himself. Roman would have argued further had Virgil not issued the suggestion as an order after his first protest.

And that was how Roman found himself sitting at a small outdoor bar tended by a rather friendly dwarf. Said dwarf, Patton as he came to learn, was quite the chatterbox while Roman was content to take in the night air in spite of his earlier worries. 

“Say kiddo,”, the dwarf broke from his pleasant rambling, “you’re looking a little lonely there. You got something on your mind?”

Roman hadn’t expected that. He pursed his lips in thought. 

“I suppose I may as well be honest with you. I’ve been wondering if-”

“If the rumours are true?”, Patton finished, “Well, luckily for you, they are!”

He ducked down behind the counter and pulled up an ornate crystal bottle that contained a marvellous prismatic liquid inside. Roman watched with great interest as the dwarf pulled out a goblet and began to mix a sweet, fruity smelling drink before dropping in three drops of the colourful elixir.

“Anima Venenum”, Patton informed him, “Our town’s alchemist created it by accident a couple of centuries back, and ever since, we offer some to tourists who look like they need a little guidance in the ol’ world of love!”

Roman was mesmerised, “Really? You mean, I needn’t pay you for it?”

“Nope! Our only rule is to never hand it out to anyone who doesn’t ask us for it. It’s up to you if you wanna accept this, so no pressure. I just figured you looked like you might be in need of it.”

The knight had so many questions swirling around in his brain, but by the time he had settled on a single one, his hand was holding the goblet to his lips. The taste was citrusy like sweet clementines, but with a mixed berry and almost floral taste that reminded him of a rose wine. As the last of it slid down his throat, Roman noted a soft honey-like taste as he thanked Patton, 

“That tastes wonderful! I’ve never had an elixir that tasted so good.”

Patton chuckled, “Actually, the elixir itself is tasteless. People just take better to it when it's mixed with a good drink, otherwise the texture weirds ‘em out.”

“Ah, I see.”, Roman let out a gentle chuckle. He didn’t feel all that different, truth be told, and so he asked, “How will I know it’s working?”

“The effects are instantaneous, don’t you worry! It might be hard to notice at first, but when you’re near your soulmate, your heart will feel really warm- In a good way! Not like heartburn, so don’t worry about it feeling unpleasant.”, Patton assured him.

Roman nodded, making a note of it as he got up to leave before quickly asking, “Oh! How long will it last?”

Patton waved him off, assuring him, “It’ll last for as long as you need to find your soulmate, guaranteed!”

With the night reaching its peak, Roman found himself strolling along the cobbled streets back to the tavern when he felt it; a flicker of warmth in his heart. Soft as the beating of a butterfly’s wing but very much there. He followed the feeling until he came upon a narrow street, hardly lit by the lamps stationed at it’s opening. The street itself was largely empty bar a silhouette in the dark leaning against the stone bridge that arched over the shimmering water running beneath it. 

His heart raced as Roman approached the figure, the flames licking at his heart until he arrived about a foot from the entrance of the bridge. The figure turned to Roman, smirking a familiar smirk,

“Come to join me, oh loyal guardian of our beloved prince?”

Janus. His soulmate was Janus?! Roman couldn’t believe it, yet no matter how thoroughly he scanned the immediate area, not a single other soul revealed itself. The half Yuan-Ti raised a bemused eyebrow at Roman, “Please, do keep ignoring my question so you may continue to look like a fool.”

Roman scowled. Maybe the kindly dwarf was just teasing him? No, he didn’t seem the type. But this conman? His soulmate? Perhaps Roman would indulge it, see where that led him. Worth a shot anyway. 

“My apologies.”, was all Roman offered as he took a spot on the bridge next to Janus, the flames of his heart undeniably soaring to life at the close proximity. Janus gave Roman a puzzled glance which let Roman take in his features; a half scaled face and body that, the more he watched the moonlight dance along the scales, made Roman want to gently reach out and touch them. In fact, he had subconsciously been doing just that when Janus had held his wrist in place, “It’s not completely rude to just touch someone’s scales without permission. What’s gotten into that underbaked brain of yours, Roman?”

Flustered and embarrassed by his lack of tact, Roman uttered quietly, “Soulmate cocktail.”

“Pardon?”

Roman panicked, “So many cocktails. Is what I said. Like, 14 whole cocktails.” 

Great. Excellent save.

“..... You’re expecting me to believe that? Did you forget that I’m rather adept at being able to tell when someone’s lying to my face, Roman?”

End him. Just end him now. Roman wished a stray lightning bolt would smite him where he stood so he wouldn’t have to face his own stupidity. Quick, say something to help ease the situation.

“Okay. I had 16 cocktails.”, he stammered with a laugh, “I’m absolutely drunk. You got me, you clever reptile you!”

Roman of Sandaria you are a certified idiot. 

“.... Alright then. Prove it.”, Janus goaded him, locking onto Roman’s crimson eyes with his own citrine snake-like eyes. 

“Prove-?”

“Let me smell your breath.”, Janus clarified, getting closer. Each inch set Roman’s heart aflame all too literally. “If you’re as inebriated as you claim to be, your breath will absolutely stink.”

Shit.

“Uuuh, personal space-”, Roman began to move back, but Janus grasped the front of his tunic.

“Don’t give me that, Mister Personal-Space-Is-A-Societal-Construct, I’ve seen how often you get in your dear prince’s personal space...”, Roman could’ve sworn for a split second that Janus sounded resentful, or perhaps envious, before his tone took a more curious route, “... or perhaps could there be another reason you don’t want to be so close to me?”

The knight became aware of the burning within his chest threatening to rage out of control, the distance between them barely a couple of inches now. Roman wasn’t sure what to do, but the lure of Janus’ eyes and the way his ribcage radiated with a heat he’d never felt before spurred him to act; he leant forward and pressed his lips to the serpentine man before him.

It surprised Roman just how pleasant it felt, though he prepared himself for harsh retaliation from the half Yuan-Ti when he felt Janus take in a breath against his lips. However, Roman was pleasantly surprised to find that Janus, not only didn’t issue him a well-earned slap and spend the rest of the night cussing him out, but instead kissed him back even harder. Not that Roman was complaining. By the time they pulled back for air, Roman didn’t even notice the fire in his heart subsiding to be replaced with a more natural warmth as Janus’ hands softly caressed Roman’s cheeks. “I’ll be the first to admit, I totally saw the night heading that direction.”, Janus mused in surprise.

Roman let out a hearty chuckle, hardly even noticing that he’d subconsciously wrapped his arms around Janus.

“Care to tell me what brought this on, Roman of Sandaria?”

Just hearing his name spoken in such an enticing dulcet made his knees feel weak; how had Roman never noticed how beautiful Janus’ voice was? His mind was too busy latching onto every octave, every syllable, that he nearly forgot to answer him. He took Janus’ scaled hand and pressed his lips to it in a gentle gesture his soulmate clearly wasn’t used to if the flustered way he averted his eyes was anything to go by,

“I suppose you could say I did a little soul searching.”

----

Have some straight up Roceit fluff, this came out so cute.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @lavender-mochi [I know you love your Roceit so I figured I’d tag you incase you needed this] @fandomsofrandom [I nearly missed the reblog where you asked to be added I’m so sorry]

[feckin-zicons]

that's why i hate larries, i hate them with all my heart. besides being boring they are hypocrites 🙄

Hey nonnie, sorry its taken me so long to reply but if you’re following me you know I’ve been travelling lately and have been more scatterbrained than usual. Not that I’m ever not scatterbrained, but its been just a little crazier than usual!

Now I wouldn’t go as far to say I hate Larries. After all their delusions can be pretty funny sometimes!

Joking aside, I don’t hate Larries, I love Larries, I’m a Larry, so I really hesitate to tarry the whole group with the same brush. However I do strongly agree with you that there are those who are complete hypocrites. Nothing annoys more more than when Larries ™ treat the other boys, other celebrities, their friends and even family as one more side character to the Larry Show.

In particular when Larries ™ flood comment sections asking or in some cases, ordering people to confirm rumors/the couple being together. The absolute fucking disrespect. Not just because they’re flooding comment sections in videos streams, tweets, what have you, that sometimes have nothing to do with the couple in question, but because its presumptuous and rude as fuck to think they’re owed a coming out- just because they’re fans of the boys.

Stop it. Thats fucking ugly as hell.

While I have no doubt all the boys will one day be out (as referenced by their continued efforts in fighting the closet. I don’t get the sense the boys will just stop at being freed from their contractual obligations). It should and will be on their own terms. Provided they’re not forcibly outed some other way.

Coming out is a deeply personal experience and no one, no one ever, has the right to out someone else. I’ll never not be absolutely furious at the Larries ™ who posted about having ‘receipts’ that would out the boys. Which… tbh weren’t receipts at all but thats a whole other story. I’m also still angry at the reactions after Liams Attitude spread that wouldn’t have been as bad if not for the entitled fandom that peddled ridiculous claims beforehand about Liam confirming Larry to be real.

I mean… What the actual fuck. Setting aside the fandom experience of the time, and boy was it an experience. What right would Liam have confirming Louis and Harry’s relationship? I mean, get some perspective? It doesn’t help that a lot of fandom adults were the ones coming up with, and reblogging those theories and the younger fans ate it up. It would have made more sense for Louis and Harry to do it but idk maybe I’m still out of touch for thinking so. I mean, it felt like every other week someone was talking about Larry coming out. It was such a shit storm oh my god.

Biggest issue I still have with them is that the entitled behaviour hasn’t stopped. For some it seems like, Larry coming out is it for them. Like pack it up, goodbye, shows over, Louis and Harry are gay and in a relationship and everything is rainbows, we get to see cute pictures of them and everyone lives happily ever after.

Yeah, no. Coming out, for anyone, is just the beginning, can’t even begin to imagine what its like for them. They’re still going to need everyones support, and it irritates me that for some fans it seems so fucking conditional.

Time and time again, I’ve seen tweets, and posts, and videos, whatever, going on about Larry coming out and it reads like a fucking wattpad story. Not just that but its always on the assumption by the poster, on the off chance they consider the other 3/5ths of the band and Ziam being a possibility, that Larry will come out first?

What?

I’m sorry but, what?

Everything I’ve seen from the boys tells me they’re all in this together, they support each other and are working through the bullshit as a team. We have all seen the No Judgement music video yes? The merch, posts, double speak etc referencing each other, yes?

I mean, I suppose if you only look at Louis and Harry, like so many do, sure. Only Larry matters, everyone else is a side character in their life.

(Lemme just, scream for a second).

However, that kind of thinking leads them to the wrong conclusions. Like… assuming the SBB/RBB countdown was attributed to nothing, when it counted down to Liam finally being free of Sophia. In the years since, I’ve seen Larries ™ backtrack on claiming the bears had anything to do with the boys, that they weren’t behind it at all, or that they were just trolling the fandom.

You know, despite all the proof otherwise, and some really, really good posts breaking down clues about what the boys were trying to tell us. The moment something might not actually be about Louis and Harry its like all their thinking shuts off. Its frustrating. Really fucking frustrating.

Seriously, fans of the other boys as individulas, not just Ziams, have been talking about the stunts too and how they fit together. Its why we tend to be right, because we’re considering the entire group. They’re still a group. They’re not free until all of them are free.

Just for that Nialls coming out first. Lmao. I’ll call it now. Lets go Niall, whens the baby coming. We all wanna know. Its been years.

Imagine, imagine! Acting like coming out is some race to be won. The fucking audacity.

Go outside and touch fucking grass you absoulte ninny.

I get it, you want to be vindicated, you want to be rewarded for putting your faith in two celebrities being together.

Newsflash you dandelionfluff, its not a race, Louis and Harry coming out isn’t a fucking prize. Thats not what supporting a relationship looks like.

Its worse when someone admits they don’t know much about Ziam or the possibility of Niall being LGBT+, and claim they’re open to it, but then immediately tweet or reblog or sub tweet or tag comment a post or answer an ask from another Larry ™ talking about how Larries ™ are the most marginalized and persecuted group.

???

In what fucking world?

IN WHAT FUCKING WORLD?

If we wanna play that game, boohoo, the media claims Louis and Harry aren’t friends anymore because of crazy shippers. Meanwhile Zayn publicly isn’t friend with anyone and “left” the band… despite the Ziam fandom calling the stunt about either Louis or Zayn “leaving” and getting it down to the exact week (the second article coming out a week before about the Ziam kiss pretty much cemented it for Zayn leaving. Which did a lot to fan the flames of the already rabid fanbase when Ziam got two articles confirming a Ziam kiss over the years and Larry got nada. Like that actually means anything).

Not to mention Larries ™ using the hetties and management tactics against the other parts of the fandom to silence them.

Who cares what the media says anyway!  TPTB, 1DHQ, The Sun, The Mirror, Simon and his minions and their unpaid interns have used the media to split the fandom apart and it worked.

Who the fuck cares if the media calls the 1D stans delusional, you know the truth! The truth it out there and you’ve seen it! The truth is coming! Who gives a damn about what some two bit “journo” who failed out of their creative writing course writes? They get worse by the year. If it wasn’t so pathetic and hilarious I might actually feel embarrassed for them. They can’t even come up with new stories and have just taken to copying old articles, but you’re upset with them??? Give it a rest. Honestly.

The sense of disconnect, entitlement and victimhood of some Larries ™ is absolutely ridiculous.

Oh my god they’re Karens. I’m not trying to be insulting, but thats exactly who they remind me of.

I’m not going to say its a surprise to me that so many in the Ziam fandom are POC, LGBT+, and Neurodivergent and any combination of those, but I am going to say I’ve read a lot of Larry fics that just have Het sex made gay. Those in the Ziam fandom just tend to look at facts in a different way than Larries do due to their life experiences. A interfaith, interracial, relationship where one or both partners fall under the Bi umbrella (not saying Louis or Harry can’t be or aren’t Bi+ but rumors, and the way the fandom markets them, puts them firmly in the gay category) looks very, very different than gay or straight relationship. Both looking from outside and being in one. There’s just different dynamics at play that aren’t often realized or understood by the gays and hets.

Its not a bad thing. All relationships are different. The issue is that theres a lot of biphobia/racism/religious prejudice etc that arises from people being unwilling to understand the inherent differences.

Taking myself for example, I’m bi, like, bi as hell, and I don’t understand how gays and hets only like one gender. I just don’t. Can’t wrap my head around it. If someone asks me to choose one gender over the others to prefer I can’t. Its so stressful. My brain goes into panic mode and it feels like I’m being torn apart. My sense of identity is shaken- its a shit feeling. I just can’t lie to myself like that. If other people feel the same well, its no wonder bi+ have such high rates of depression and suicide. Its not about choosing who to like, there is no choice, I just feel attraction to everyone. Aces, I get. Its similar to being the opposite of what I feel, or not feeling an attraction to someone I’m not interested in. Easy. Gays and hets? I’m completely lost on.

Completely, and I know I’m not the only one who feels that way. But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try and understand where they’re coming from. Its alien to me, personally, but I’m not going to shut down the fact, that theres a fuck ton of people who only like one gender or try and make up reasons as to why they’re actually bi+

I digress, none of the boys fall neatly into the gay stereotypes, its just that parts of the Larry fandom have boxed Louis and Harry into certain roles to fit preconceived notions (likely do to them initially fitting in better with the white, sassy, somewhat effeminate twink thats been plastered all over Hollywood as their “LGBT+ representation” for years. Gag), they can understand better, and only look for proof to back up their theories but don’t look at things objectively.

They really need to get out more and make some LGBT+ friends that aren’t on the internet and talk to some gay elders. They need educating that’s not the often sanitized and insulting Hollywood version, that’s all I’m saying.

They made Louis and Harry more palatable for themselves and its… really gross.

I don’t know, I don’t get it.

Some Larries ™ turned the boys into their fandom and fanfiction stereotypes when they’re so much more than that. The Sony leaks should have been enough to dissuade the fandom, and prove that the brand sold to the broader audience is just that- a brand, and yet… Niall only talks about food and golf and Ireland and is only allowed to be straight or ace. If he exists at all its just to be Capt Niall. Liams slow and dumb and depending on the day he’s either Capt Liam or a horrific abusive homophobe. Zayns just The Worst, a unstable drug addict, and the boys hate each other, and they should have kicked him out of the band sooner because he never wanted to be part of them anyway, etc.

It drives me absolutely around the bend some days. They’re real people who don’t owe anyone anything, especially not coming out.

Yes, I think they will. But they’re not obligated to. They can change their minds, I’ll support them regardless of an “official” coming out or not.

Look, a part of me gets it. They wanna be right, they wanna prove the haters wrong, they want to be able to say I called it all along! The vindication will be sweet.

But like, it takes a quick look at someone other than Louis and Harry to realize theres something hinky going on with Liam, Zayn and Niall. Please listen to their fans who have spent just as much time as you have looking into Louis and Harry compiling together evidence.

It might take a weekend to watch the ILYSM and pterodactyl bros videos and a few more hours looking into some Niall blogs, which isn’t much compared to the hours I know they’ve spent looking into Larry. At least then they’ll have enough information to form an opinion on things.

I wonder, for some, what would happen if Larry didn’t come out, or didn’t come out first, or one of the other boys was outed against their will. Because… I don’t know. It seems like some would rather just be proven right at this point.

I get it. We’re tired. Its been eleven long years. But this isn’t a television show were everything can come to a head with a s3 or s4 cliff hanger and fixed in the series finale. Its real life, and they started off as boys trusting industry veterans who never had their best interests at heart.

Iduno. I just want some Larries ™ to take a step out of the echo chamber, realize life isn’t The Larry Show & co. And especially. ESPECIALLY, that every instance were someone, friends, family, co-works, industry peeps etc support the boys they are SUPPORTING THE BOYS, NOT THE FANDOM. They are not “confirming Larry for the fans” they’re doing it to support the couple, not to cater to the fandom. Please stop confusing the two. There’s a huge fucking difference. Learn it.

[holidaywishes]

I Get It Now

  Requested: 🙅‍♀️

  Summary: "I never understood why all those people in movies and T.V. shows would get so bent out of shape when they found out their dead beat parent had a new life. After years of never seeing them. Like, I guess I thought they should just be happy that they’re better... But, seeing him, like that? I get it...”

  Warning: angst, drama, jealously, implied sex but no actual smut

  Author’s Note: So... I was re-watching the Good Place a little while back and wept when Eleanor found her mom finally being the mom that she always wanted -- to someone else. Cut to: last week and, for some reason, I had the idea to write something about Tyler with this idea in mind. That he was always capable of change but that (Y/N) just wasn’t worth changing for... So much angst! I’M SO READY TO WEEP Y’ALL! Hope you are too! It’s a little long but oh well! It also didn’t quite turn out like I imagined it would but I hope you get at least a little bit weepy! That’s the goal anyway, lol. ENJOY!

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

  “It’s over” you texted knowing full well that you’d be back in his bed before too long but you needed to at least say you sent the words to Tyler so you could lie to your friends about how you ‘tried to get over him’

  “Good.” He sent back and you threw your phone onto your mattress, watching as it landed on the corner and flew somewhere in your room before the sound of the fragile screen breaking was all you could hear. “Shit” you thought to yourself, hoping that the phone still worked, coming face to face with Tyler’s last message when you unlocked your phone and let out a sigh of relief. You started a few texts that night but never sent any to the Stars’ Centre, choosing to ultimately silence your phone and try to fall asleep.

  “Oh my god, you’re still here!” Daniel joked as he let himself into your apartment the next morning

  “I don’t work today...” you replied, groggily, sitting up as your friend rummaged through your closet

  “Oh, that’s not what I was referring to...” he laughed, “Olivia and I had a bet going of whether or not you would’ve slunk back over to Seguin’s place last night. I lost. I owe her $20.”

  “You guys don’t get it...” you argued, throwing a small pillow at his back, “this has been going on for years. The will they won’t they thing? It’s all foreplay”

  “You’re delusional” he turned his back just to scowl at you before Olivia busted through the front door herself

  “She’s still here! You owe be $20, D!” she yelled and you groaned at the two of them before throwing your blanket over your head

  “I’m not delusional!” you called out but the words were muffled by the fabric in front of your mouth, causing your friends to ask you to repeat yourself, “I’m not delusional!” you huffed as you flung the blanket off of you and made your way to your kitchen

  “Is this about Tyler?” Olivia asked Daniel

  “Who else? What else?”

  “Of course you’re delusional” she snarled

  “Why?”

  “Do you really think he’s going to stop being the party boy that you’ve known for years just because you love him?” She asked snidely

  “Whoa whoa whoa, no one said anything about love.”

  “So you’re not hopelessly in love with the guy?” Daniel chimed in from your bedroom, where he was still going through your closet for some reason

  “Of course not!”

  “So... you don’t have a separate ringtone and text tone for him that wakes you up in the middle of the night more than anyone else’s?” Olivia added

  “I have separate sounds for everyone. It’s how I know to completely ignore the two of you when I’m hungover”

  “Har har” Daniel said snidely

  “That doesn’t prove anything” you replied

  “Fine. If you’re not in love with him, why are you wasting so much breath on him?” Olivia asked

  “The sex is good”

  “That’s it?!” Daniel screeched, finally coming into the room to complain to you, “the sex isn’t even great? it’s just good? It should be AMAZING for you to talk about this guy as much as you do.”

  “Unless you’re in love with him..”

  “Why would I be in love with him? He’s not capable of love. I don’t want love right now. I want to have fun. He wants to have fun”

  “Oh bullshit” Olivia yelled and you rolled your eyes

  “Come on, guys. I don’t need all this shit right now... I--”

  “You say he’s not capable of love?” Daniel interrupted, “do you think that you’re not capable of love?”

  “I don’t need love from anyone other than me right now. I’m in my twenties, a time for me to be inexplicably selfish, okay?”

  “(Y/N)! COME ON!” Olivia scoffed, falling against the back of the chair where she sat, “everyone needs love. Especially in their twenties. This guy is a fuckboy and you need more than a stupid, fucking fuckboy. I mean, for one night they’re fine. But any more than that? It’s just...”

  “Sad” Daniel finished her thought, leading Olivia to snap her fingers and point at him and you scoffed at the two of them

  “Whatever” you said

  “Look, babe, all we’re trying to say is that you deserve better. Because, deny it as much as you want, you want to love. You want to be loved. And I don’t think Tyler’s gonna be the one to give it to you.” Daniel said

  “He could be...” you tried and they both gave you a look that you knew meant they thought you were wrong, “listen, how ‘bout this? I’ll present him the idea of us being... a couple, and if he doesn’t go for it then I’ll end things.”

  “Oh you will, will you?” Olivia laughed, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

xx

  You were as shocked as anyone that Tyler had heard you out and agreed to give the whole dating thing a shot. Yet, there you were, on your one year anniversary with him and you felt like you had finally found what you were looking for.

  “What’s wrong?” Tyler asked you when he noticed you seemed to be in your own world

  “What?” you said before snapping back to him, “sorry. Yeah, I’m fine...”

  “Not what I asked”

  “What did you ask then?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine, I guess I’m just a little distracted...”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, I just am...”

  “Can I do something?”

  “No,” you smiled before grabbing his hand from across the table, “I’m sorry. I’m here with you.” He returned your smile and rubbed his thumb across your hand as the two of you continued your date night. As the night drew on, Tyler suggested that the two of you go dancing, an activity you reluctantly agreed to since you could only imagine where the night might go if either of you had too much to drink.

  “You’re beautiful” he whispered in your ear as the two of you danced close to each other

  “You’re not so bad yourself” you smiled as your hand crept up to the back of his neck so your fingers could tangle in his hair

  “Can you believe we’ve lasted an entire year?” He asked, earning a scoff from you and you shook your head

  “Only a little bit” you chirped and he squeezed your sides, forcing a squeal to escape your lips. The song ended and you took Tyler to the bar for a few shots before you noticed the stares of nearly every girl at the bar following him around, leading you to look him up and down before eventually turning your body toward him, “I really, really, really, really, really, really like you” you sung at him and he leaned in to kiss you

  “Wanna go somewhere?” he asked and you nodded as seductively as you could manage. The two of you began walking to the cabs outside but when you nibbled at his neck playfully, he changed course and took you into the bathroom; locking the door as soon as both of you were in. He kissed your neck feverishly as he directed you to the cold bathroom counter where you were met by damp paper towels and a small puddle of water

  “Ugh!” you let out a grunt as you tried to wipe away the water from the thin fabric of your sleeve

  “Just leave it,” Tyler whispered as he lifted you onto the counter to continue kissing your neck, “it won’t be on you for long.” You laughed at his suggestion, continuing to kiss his lips and feel his fingers caress your skin, slowly, gently, until he couldn’t take it anymore. When the two of you exited the room, rather indiscreetly, you felt... cheap, and the feeling didn’t go away when he tried to continue his actions in the cab ride home.

  “I need to get out of this dress” you complained the second you stepped foot through Tyler’s front door

  “Yes. Yes. I like that idea very much” he smiled, inching his hands closer to you in an attempt to help you

  “Not what I meant. I feel gross in it after that bathroom...”

  “Let me help you” he laughed

  “I’ve got it thanks.” You snapped and he stepped back

  “Hang on, did I do something?”

  “Aside from fucking me in a dirty club bathroom?”

  “I’m sorry.. I didn’t really see you rejecting me?”

  “I’m not saying I didn’t want to have sex with you, I guess I just thought you would have the diligence to wait until we got back here...” you argued before the dogs started circling the two of you, barking when each of you raised your voices

  “Usually, it would be considered a compliment for a guy not to be able to keep his hands off his girl”

  “Tyler...” you rolled your eyes, letting out a deep sigh, “why can’t we just be respectful in public?”

  “Respectful? How are we not being respectful?”

  “I guess I just mean classy...”

  “Oh classy..” he scoffed, “I get it. So, you want to go hang out a country club event and be bored out of our fucking minds just so you can rub elbows with, what? the Ultra-Elite?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” you rolled your eyes once more, “I don’t care where we go. We could go to a dive bar in every fucking city we go to. I’m not talking about a classy event or place. I’m just saying, you know, maybe we don’t have to fuck in the bathroom at whatever place we end up at”

  “Alright,” he scoffed, turning his back to you to grab a glass of water, “maybe we should just call it a night, huh?” You grabbed your phone and ordered an Uber, convinced that’s what he wanted for the night, before storming away from him. All you could think to yourself was how much you hated that the night was ending this way.

xx

Tyler’s P.O.V.

  What a way to end your one year anniversary with (Y/N). You knew she was expecting you to follow her out after she stormed out of your house but you just weren’t having it for the night; so you let her leave without saying anything more. It wasn’t like you intended to have sex in the club bathroom but she was whispering in your ear and the many, many, tequila shots you’d both done that night were playing keep away with your better judgement but this was not how you saw the night ending. With your girlfriend storming out and you diving face first into your pillows. Alone.

  “I’m sorry” you texted the next morning, sending a follow up when she didn’t answer, “I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking straight...” Still no answer so you rolled your eyes before falling back into the couch, shooting up when you heard your phone ding

  “Whatcha up to tonight?” Brett texted, forcing you to sigh

  “Nothing...”

  “Wanna get drunk and flirt with some chicks?”

  “Dude... I can’t” you replied

  “Why not? Mike’s got the whole thing set up. He’s got VIP passes for Posty and there will be a buffet of girls for us to choose from. Come on, Ty.”

  “Come on, Brett, you know I’m with (Y/N)”

  “That’s not serious”

  “Uhh.. yeah. Yes, it is.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes really. We just had our one year anniversary last night. Thanks for caring”

  “If it’s so serious, where is she? Why do you have no plans tonight?”

  “We’re both hungover. Plus, I gotta train still. For, you know, my job...”

  “You got drunk last night? On your anniversary?”

  “We had some celebratory shots”

  “Have some more.”

  “Brett”

  “Tyler”

  “I’m serious”

  “Not about her you’re not”

  “Very funny”

  “I’ll be over at your place at 6 to pick you up”

  “I’m not going”

  “Sure. See you then.” You rolled your eyes at Brett’s disregard for your refusal of his invitation, huffing at the fact that (Y/N) still hadn’t responded to you. You checked your phone more than you thought than you ever thought you would and it was starting to drive you insane, so much so that you told Brett that you’d changed your mind, “Yup. Pick you up at 6.”

xx

  Your friends told you that they saw something on Instagram about Tyler hooking up with some girl at an after party with Mike. You wanted it to shock you but it really didn’t. That didn’t stop you from yelling at Tyler about it though

  “YOU WOULDN’T TALK TO ME!” he yelled back

  “SO?! YOUR SOLUTION IS TO GO AND HOOK UP WITH SOME RANDOM CHICK AT A RANDOM PARTY?!”

  “WE WERE JUST HAVING FUN!”

  “ARE YOU NOT DENYING THAT YOU CHEATED ON ME?”

  “I DIDN’T CHEAT!”

  “TYLER! YOU JUST SAID YOU WERE ‘JUST HAVING FUN’ WITH THIS CHICK”

  “YES! ALL OF US, AT THAT PARTY, WERE JUST HAVING FUN”

  “OH MY GOD!!” you rubbed your temples in frustration, “Why wouldn’t you try to warn me?”

  “There was nothing to warn you about” he said, calming his voice so he could actually speak to you

  “Except the fact that there were pictures everywhere of you with this chick. And you looking exceptionally drunk as she led you around”

  “Nothing happened”

  “How do I know that?”

  “You’ll just have to trust me”

  “Given the way we started,” you scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest, “do you blame me for having a hard time believing you?”

  “That’s not fair...”

  “Fair or not, Ty, you went out with these people and didn’t tell me. You followed around a girl all night, got photographed with her and didn’t tell me. So I couldn’t prepare myself for the inevitable questions I was going to get from my friends”

  “It’s not my fault your friends are so consumed with gossip sites!” his voice was beginning to rise once more but you just stood in front of him with your arms crossed, trying to keep your voice steady

  “What are we even doing, Tyler?” you asked abruptly and he stepped back

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you actually want to be in a relationship? Or are you just wasting my time?”

  “Me? Wasting your time?” he questioned, and you nodded as your eyes grew wide, “Oh please. You’re getting exactly what you want from me. You didn’t want to be a booty call anymore, you’re not. You wanted to be a couple, we are. I’m being forced to drop everything for you, at every turn, and chase after you whenever you get pissed and run off; like you did the other night”

  “All you want is a booty call, Tyler!” you shouted, dropping your arms finally and stepping toward him as he turned to walk away, “I asked you if you wanted to try dating but I guess I should’ve made it clear that I also meant ‘no booty calls from other girls,’ I thought it was obvious but maybe not!”

  “I DIDN’T HOOK UP WITH THAT GIRL! I DIDN’T HOOK UP WITH ANYONE!”

  “BUT YOU WANT TO!” you yelled and it forced him to furrow his brow at you, “YOU WANT THE OPPORTUNITY TO HOOK UP WITH EVERY GIRL YOU CAN. YOU WANT THE CHANCE TO GO OUT AND GET DRUNK WITH YOUR FRIENDS WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE AT PRACTICE THE NEXT DAY! YOU DON’T WANT A RELATIONSHIP!”

  “THAT’S NOT TRUE!”

  “I THINK IT IS!”

  “OF COURSE YOU DO! BECAUSE THAT MEANS THAT YOU’RE NOT IN THE WRONG HERE! THAT I’M THE VILLAIN!”

  “I’M NOT TRYING TO MAKE YOU THE VILLAIN?!”

  “YOU DON’T WANT ME EITHER!” he finally admitted and you felt your eyes start to water

  “Of course I want you” you whispered

  “YOU WANT WHAT I CAN GIVE YOU. WHAT I CAN DO FOR YOU BUT THAT’S IT”

  “No--”

  “YOU SURE AS HELL DON’T WANT A RELATIONSHIP WITH ME!” he continued to yell while you stood silently in front of him, your arms wrapping around yourself in an attempt to comfort yourself, “IF YOU DID, YOU’D TRY HARDER TO MEET ME HALF WAY!” You were at a loss for words because you didn’t see a way that this argument would end and leave your relationship with Tyler in tact, so you stood in front of him with tears falling down your cheeks before you could wipe them away so Tyler didn’t see. You tried to think of something to say but everything that came to mind just felt like something to fill the air, when Tyler spoke up again, “I’m sorry,” he said softly but he didn’t move from where he stood, “I shouldn’t have yelled like that...”

  “It’s my fault...” you replied, “I.. I guess I didn’t think you felt that way. I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

  “I guess I should’ve handled the situation differently”

  “Maybe we should’ve talked about all of this sooner...”

  “Maybe...” he slid his hands in his pockets sheepishly as your eyes dropped to the floor

  “This is it, isn’t it?” you said, biting your lip before he answered, “we’re done?”

  “I think so...” he replied, catching your eyes when you finally lifted your head and you nodded to yourself to stop the tears from falling.

  “Alright..” you smiled before inhaling sharply and turning on your heels, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this way...”

  “Me either,” Tyler responded, following you to the door, “but I think it’s best we end it now...” You smiled sadly at his admission before pushing yourself up to lay a soft kiss to his cheek

  “For what it’s worth,” you said as you lowered your feet back on the ground, “I think I really did love you...” He smiled at you and kissed your forehead but didn’t say anything more; leaving you to walk to your car and ride back to your apartment with no sense of closure.

xx

Six Years Later

Tyler’s P.O.V

  She came out of nowhere. Honestly. One second, you were swiping on every girl in a 5 mile radius on Bumble, the next you had found yourself quarantining in Dallas with this girl that you were only casually seeing six months earlier. After (Y/N), you told yourself you were just going to focus on your game and that dating wasn’t an option but that didn’t mean that finding someone wasn’t something you wanted. You really were tired of being lonely.

  “I’m so proud of you, babe,” she texted when Dallas became the Western Conference Champions, “you’re gonna win. I can feel it.” You smiled at her words and felt an incredible sense of calm rush over you; a feeling you’d never quite experienced before.

  “Don’t jinx it!” you wrote back, followed closely by a crying laughing emoji

  “I would never!”

  “I love you” you smiled as you sent your confession to her, not registering that it was the first time you had ever said it, to anyone, and really meant it

  “I love you, too.” You were called to practice after that and had to end the conversation there but, for some reason, it made you think about your relationship with (Y/N) and you wondered where she might in her life now

  “Ty!” Jamie called to grab your attention while you finally made your way to the ice. You continued to think about your past relationships, and how they changed you for the relationship you’re in now, but one face kept popping into your mind that left a sinking feeling in your gut. You missed (Y/N) but the two of you weren’t right for each other. Not for the time that you were with her. Not for the time that you met. Not since she practically followed you from Boston to Dallas and knew your reputation more than she knew you. But the feeling that you got left you concerned about what she might think about you now if you were ever to run into her when you went back home.

xx

  You had been watching the insanity of the 2020 Stanley Cup Playoffs even though your friends tried to convince you that watching Tyler play was too painful

  “It’s been six years” you argued

  “Yeah it has,” Daniel started, “so tell me why you still follow him on Instagram?”

  “Or Snapchat” Olivia added

  “Or why you decided to follow his girlfriend’s Tiktok?”

  “YEAH!” Olivia’s girlfriend, Penny, shouted from the kitchen and you laughed

  “You’re just making yourself miserable” Amanda said from the table as you sat down across from her

  “I’m not!” you scoffed before rolling your eyes at the people in front of you, “I’m not making myself miserable. I’m allowed to keep track of..”

  “Are you though? I would never NEVER keep track of an ex” Daniel asked

  “And let’s be real,” Amanda added, “you were always more of a hook up to him than a girlfriend”

  “Whoa, that’s harsh. We dated for a year...”

  “Yeah, but, he was still in his ‘party boy’ phase” she said

  “So...?” you furrowed your brow

  “So...” Daniel continued Amanda’s thought, “he’s different now. The ‘relationship’ you had with him was more fun than serious. The one he’s in now? that’s the serious one.”

  “Whatever...” you huffed, dismissing them and changing the topic, “I’m happy they’re doing well in the playoffs”

  “What?” Daniel and Olivia said, catching glimpses of each other as the words left their mouths

  “They had a rough start but they’re still playing well... Even still, Tampa will probably win,” they all looked at you with confusion, “what? Overall, they’re the better team!”

  “(Y/N)...” Penny said gently, “you don’t even like Tampa”

  “I mean they’re not my team, but they do have talent on their team...”

  “You just don���t want Tyler to win...” Amanda replied, trailing off as she finished her sentence

  “What?” you exclaimed, feigning shock, “that’s not true”

  “No, it’s not about Tyler,” Olivia added, “it’s about his girlfriend.” You looked up to see your friends’ expressions and you tried to argue it but Daniel stopped you before you could, explaining Olivia’s point further

  “She doesn’t want Dallas to win because that means Tyler’s new girlfriend gets to date a ‘Stanley Cup Champion,’” he almost teased, “somehow you think she’s not worthy of it”

  “That’s not true!” you raised your voice at him, “besides, he’s already won the cup. She’s already been dating a Stanley Cup Champion. So was I”

  “Yeah but not freshly. You never got to see the Cup, hold it, or touch it or whatever...” Olivia said

  “Does it matter? It wouldn’t mean anything to me, I didn’t win it. He did. The same goes for this new girl, it’s not her trophy, not her win. It’ll be his”

  “So.. you do think they’ll win?” Daniel asked, leading you to finally stand up

  “Sure. They’ve got as good a chance as ever, I guess,” you admitted before making your way toward your bedroom, “but Tampa is Tampa... they always manage to win.” Before anyone could argue with you about your bouncing back and forth, or about what your words meant, you escaped into your bedroom and closed the door behind you. It didn’t take long for someone to open your door but you were surprised to see Penny standing at the foot of your bed instead of Olivia or Daniel, “Penny? what are you doing here?”

  “I came to check on you,” she smiled at you, noticing you wipe away a stray tear, “I could tell there was something more going on. Something that wasn’t being said...”

  “Yeah what’s that?”

  “That you still love him”

  “Yeah that’s pretty obvious, Penny. I never stopped loving him, but thanks for your insight”

  “All I meant was that there’s something you don’t want Livy or Danny to know. Even if they can see it from a mile away”

  “That something being that I’m still in love with the guy who broke up with me a couple days after our one year anniversary?”

  “That... or the fact that you miss him...” she said and you sighed before bringing your hands to cover your face

  “I just... ugh, I don’t know” you groaned

  “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to but I’m here... if you need a completely impartial third-party to talk to.” You looked up at Penny, her soft smile comforting you more than you realized you’d needed

  “You know those movies or shows when someone’s parent leaves because they’re like an addict or something and then they have to go to rehab or something? Then the kid finds them again years later and they’re a totally different person?”

  “Yeah?” she replied, furrowing her brow at your question

  "I never understood why all those people in movies and T.V. shows would get so bent out of shape when they found out their dead beat parent had a new life. After years of never seeing them. Like, I guess I thought they should just be happy that they’re better... But, seeing him, like that? with her? I get it...”

  “You do?”

  “I’m so happy for Tyler. And for his new relationship. I am. I mean, sure, maybe I’m a little jealous but it’s not because of the Stanley Cup stuff...”

  “You’re jealous of their relationship?”

  “I’m angry at their relationship. I’m angry at him! I’m mad that he picked a girl so much younger than him when he’s not in his party phase anymore. I mean, I’m a nice person right?” you asked and she nodded in agreement, “right, so why didn’t I get this version of Tyler that he is now? Why did I get the guy who partied every night and treated women like they were just pieces of flesh for him to screw whenever he had the chance? Why did I fall for it every time he called or texted me and said that he missed me? Why did he leave Boston claiming to want to start fresh but still end up being the same guy that he was there? Why, after finally getting him to try being in a relationship, did he just give up? Why wouldn’t he try? Why wasn’t I enough for him?”

  “I don’t k--”

  “Why couldn’t he love me?” you interrupted her as tears began to stream down your face, “I wanted him so badly that I was willing to degrade myself for him. And I know that should’ve been a red flag but I loved him. At least I think I did. I wanted him to be this guy. The guy who was sweet and soft and gentle and who let me make stupid little videos for Instagram or whatever. The guy who wasn’t afraid to post pictures with me and say ‘that’s my girlfriend!’ I wanted what he’s so willing to give to her. And I don’t understand why I wasn’t the girl he wanted to be that person for...”

  “It’s just about timing...” she said as she sat down gently beside you, “he didn’t know who he was yet when he was with you and it sucks that you had to be the one he was figuring out things with but”

  “Someone’s gotta do it?” you interjected but Penny just tilted her head at your words

  “But...” she continued, “maybe it’s for the best. You were both young and quick to rush into things when you weren’t ready. A year long relationship at 21, 22 when you guys ended things, is a long time. You’re both different people now.”

  “What if I’m not?” you asked, tears still falling from your eyes but your voice more steady than before, “what if I’m still that girl because I never got over him?”

  “You’re not” she tried, rubbing your shoulder to reassure you

  “How do you know? You didn’t know me then...”

  “I’ve heard stories,” she laughed, “besides, you said it yourself. You were willing to degrade yourself for Tyler back then. The (Y/N) I know would never let someone treat her like anything less than a god damn queen because she knows she deserves it.”

  “I just wanted to be wanted...” you sighed, “to be loved... Because all this means is that Daniel and Olivia were right. That all this time, Tyler was capable of love. Capable of being the boyfriend I wanted him to be, the boyfriend I knew he could be but that he was only just a fuckboy when he was with me which meant that he didn’t want to love me”

  “It doesn’t mean that...” she said softly before Olivia and Daniel finally came through the door, clearly having been listening to the entire conversation

  “He wasn’t ready to love you” Olivia added, kneeling down in front of you

  “He wanted to,” Daniel said, sitting down on the bed next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you, “he just didn’t know how”

  “Bullshit” you moped

  “It’s true!” Olivia argued, “anytime we saw you two together, we could tell he was crazy about you. He was just in a weird place after Boston. So going from there to here, it was obvious to us he wasn’t expecting a relationship.”

  “All he was expecting were hook ups but you came along, and he liked you”

  “So when you asked for a relationship, he didn’t want to lose you, so he agreed”

  “Even though he didn’t really know how to be in a relationship yet”

  “Why me then?” you shouted, “you say he just wanted hook ups and not a relationship because he didn’t know how but why was it me that he didn’t know how to be in a relationship with? Because he sure as hell managed with Ali”

  “Don’t compare your relationship to Ali’s”

  “They were a mess together”

  “And we weren’t?” you exclaimed

  “You’re looking for problems, trying to poke holes in our logic”

  “No, I’m not. I just wish I had the answers.”

  “Don’t we all, babe,” Olivia smiled, rubbing your knee, “but sometimes we just have to live with the fact that the only answers we have are the answers that lead to more questions...”

  “You were a very important part of his life, of his growth,” Daniel added, “don’t forget that, don’t devalue yourself because you weren’t the one he ended up with.”

  “I just wish...”

  “Don’t,” he interrupted, “don’t wish you could do it again. Don’t wish you could change his mind. Don’t wish you could be her...”

  “Because you can’t” Olivia added

  “And you don’t want to be” Amanda said

  “You want to be able to be you. Not someone else,” Penny started, “you deserve to be happy.”

  “How do I do that when I’ve never really gotten over him?”

  “One step at a time” Daniel said

  “Don’t Jordin Sparks me” you laughed

  “It’s true, though,” Amanda continued, “you’ll learn to get over him. Even if it takes another six years. And then you’ll find the person that makes you the happiest version of yourself”

  “And we’ll be here to help you through it” Olivia added, gesturing to the group around you

  “Whether you want us or not” Daniel teased, earning a laugh from you

  “Thanks guys...” you sighed, wiping away the wetness that the tears left on your face as your friends encapsulated you in a hug that left you feeling warm and, for the first time in years, at ease.

[cruisercrusher]

@edling-week week day 4- song

BRO I was thinking about this scenario before I even realized this was one of the prompts for today, it’s like the stars just aligned. Remember that au I mentioned on day 2? Same one, I’m calling it the sellouts au, and here’s an incomplete snippet of some fic for that au. enjoy :3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Ed, uh… I need your help with something.” 

Ed looks up from where he’s tuning his guitar to see Ling standing in the doorway, shuffling awkwardly in place. Ed’s eyes widen at the sight of the pop prince there, physically standing there and not, you know, on the other side of the planet. 

“Ling!” Ed stands up, setting his guitar aside. “Shit, you didn’t tell me you were gonna be back in town so soon!” 

Ling shrugs with a smile. “Just business stuff, no big deal,” he says. “But didn’t you say we should, ‘hang out sometime’?”

Ed cringes as he remembers that… more than embarrassing exchange at the airport a month ago. Jesus Christ, what had possessed him to lean across the security divider and shout to get Ling’s attention over the screaming fans, after they’d already said bye, only to say, ‘let’s hang out sometime’? God, he’s pathetic. 

Of course, when Ling smiles like that at him, he remembers exactly why he had done that. 

God, he’s pathetic.

Ling’s smile fades as he repeats his greeting. “Anyways, I… well, can you help me?” 

Ed rolls his eyes and sticks his hands on his hips. “I guess, depends on what you need help with. I hope your spoiled ass didn’t forget we’re not your personal assistants again.”

Knowing Ed is (probably) joking, Ling laughs. “Nothing like that!” He says, waving his hand back and forth. “I need you to help me write a song.” 

At that, Ed’s put-upon mask breaks. “Really? Is your label finally letting you write your own shit?” 

“No, haha,” Ling rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and that’s when Ed realizes the taller boy has kept one hand behind his back this whole time. “No, it’s, uh, it’s a personal song.” 

Ed just looks more confused. “But you write those all the time, right? Why would you need my help?” 

“I want to write a song in English,” Ling stresses. Ed still doesn’t get it, and it shows, and that just seems to make Ling more agitated. “You stupid, stupid boy,” he mutters under his breath, rubbing his brow. Ed frowns. 

“Hey!” 

“I need your help writing a song in English because I’m no good at English and the song is for the boy that I like and he only speaks English so what good is a genuine love song in a language he doesn’t know, Ed!” Ling blurts all in one rush, the look on his face both equally serious and panicked. “And I need you to help me write a song that— that will make him— agh, what’s the word, not ‘know’ it’s— understand, that will make him understand how I feel! Because you’re an amazing lyricist and you understand me better than almost anyone else, and, well, Lan Fan is ass at writing lyrics.” His fervour dies down at the end, but he still looks at Ed with that earnest, downright pleading expression on his face. 

Shattering. Like a glass chandelier being smashed to a million little pieces. That’s the sound that Ed hears his heart make as Ling says that. Fuck, he’s so stupid, he was so stupid. Of course Ling likes someone else, duh, Elric. Ed is— well, there’s too many things to list, there, and Ling has millions and millions of people that throw themselves at his feet every damn day, did Ed really think he was different? Was he really delusional enough to think he’s, what, somehow more special, more interesting than any one of those kajillions of people? And Ling is just… so…

Well, perfect. And Ed is so stupid. 

“So what?” He snaps, suddenly vicious, and Ling blinks in surprise. “Go ask Al, he’s just as good as me at lyrics and he’s way better at sappy, romantic shit anyways, so—“ 

He turns to go back to where he left his guitar, but Ling stops him with a hand on his automail shoulder, and Ed whips back around, practically throwing Ling’s hand off. 

“I don’t want it to be sappy and romantic—“ Ling snaps back at him. “Everything I fucking sing is sappy and romantic, and I want this song to be— to be real. I thought… I thought you would get that.”

Ed flinches. God, this is exactly why… “I didn’t mean that,” he mutters. “Just— go ask Al.”

“Well—“ Ling winces. “Actually, I kind of already did, just because I thought he was less likely to make fun of me than you, but he called me a dumbass and told me to ask you.” 

Despite himself, Ed chuckles, but his smile drops as quickly as it appeared. “Look, I don’t know, man,” he sighs. “Maybe Rose—“

“Rose can’t help me.” Ling says, oddly determined. “Please, Ed… look,” he takes his hand out from behind his back finally, showing Ed a USB stick and a folded up piece of paper. “I, well, I actually already wrote it, but in Mandarin. And these are the google translate lyrics.”

Ed blinks. “So… huh?”

Ling huffs. “I need you to make the English version sound good. It has to be you. Please.”

Ed thinks he would rather eat his automail than write Ling a love song for someone else, but Ling is still his friend, no matter how else Ed feels about him, and he clearly wants Ed’s help because this is important to him and because Ed is his friend, and he trusts Ed to help him give his heart to someone else and—

And Ed would just be a huge jackass to refuse. “Alright, fine.” He sticks his hand out for the demo and the lyrics. “Lemme see.”

Ling’s face brightens, a huge grin Ed recognizes well lighting up his whole face. He shoves the USB and paper at Ed and does a little hop in place, his bangs bouncing. “You’re the best, Ed!” He laughs. “Thanks!” 

And then he… 

Runs out of the room. 

Ed stares at the spot where Ling just was. “What the fuck?” He says aloud to the empty room. “I never said I’d do it for you… dumbass.” He mutters, going back to where he left his guitar, digging through his bag for his laptop. “Ugh, whatever. Let’s see what that dumbass came up with.”

“Oh my god,” Ed laughs as he looks over the google translated lyrics-- the paper Ling gave him literally is a printed out screenshot of the google translate. “Man, Ling, this guy had better make you happy as hell for me to be doing this for you.” 

When he listened to the demo, he was surprised. He didn’t understand it, obviously, he doesn’t know Mandarin, but the sound was nothing like anything else in Ling’s official discography. Which he supposes he should have expected, really, since Ling has said before he doesn’t really like the music that Emperor Records has him sing. Ed can’t imagine, honestly, what it must be like to build a career on music that you just can’t bring yourself to be passionate about. 

Actually, Ed has a sneaking suspicion that Al was responsible for the track. He has no proof, of course, but Ed knows his brother and he knows what the music he makes sounds like. Either way, it was a little heavier than Ling’s usual family-friendly pop music, more alternative than his typical ultra-mainstream. And the lyrics…

This would be easier if Ed knew Mandarin, if he could get the actual meaning of the original lyrics and not just the literal translation of the words, then the version he’s been tasked with making would be more accurate. It would be easier, if Ling hadn’t run off and instead stuck around to tell Ed what the hell he actually meant by ‘very good son, your golden eyes make the sun feel embarrassed’-- because that can’t possibly be literal.

But, whatever. He can deal with this. Ling said he wanted this song to be real, and--

Well, if there’s one thing Ed can give, it’s the truth.