#because yeah its genuinely deeply upsetting for me and i always feel like absolute shit

[hecksupremechips]

Girl help I keep thinking about freaking persona 4

[harry-writings]

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

- The one where Harry and Y/n are separated, but Harry gets jealous when he sees Y/n getting ready for a date with another man 

Masterlist 

-

It was the last thing Harry wanted to see, really — Y/n in a tight red dress, hooking gold earrings into her ears while she rubs her lips together,  spreading the crimson lipstick upon the surface, legs ending at her black stilettos.

But that’s exactly what Harry sees when he walks into her apartment to pick up their six-month old son, and he’s never had so much of an urge to gouge his eyes out from their sockets and leave them lifeless upon the ground.

There’s someone else. Y/n’s dolling herself up, wearing her Sunday best, letting her hair down in loose curls even though she hates curling her fucking hair, for somebody else — for somebody that’s not him, for somebody that’s not her husband.

“Hey, Harry! Thank you so much for coming early. I don’t want to be late!”

She still has yet to look at him — still scrambling around her living room, gathering everything she needs — and Harry doesn’t even know if he wants her to. One glance from her when she looks like this... and he’ll be a goner, he knows it, and he can’t afford to get all jealous and possessive in front of the very woman he broke things off with not just one year ago.

It was his idea to file for divorce, at the end of it all. Y/n had tried everything she could to mend the marriage that was in constant shambles, but Harry was always too stubborn and too prideful to admit to all the things he’d done wrong. And he did everything wrong.

He didn’t treat Y/n with the kind of love he had once given her — with the kind of love she always deserved. He treated Y/n like an obligation rather than a choice, a burden rather than a need, yet she always kept her promises and lived by her vows because it wasn’t just a casual relationship that could be thrown away and forgotten about, it was marriage.

She signed them up for marriage counseling, but Harry failed to show up to half the meetings. And when he did, he’d just sit there with a scowl on his face saying that talking about their feelings wouldn’t help any because there were no feelings. She tried working around his schedule to go on getaway vacations together to respire their connection, but he always spent the portion of time he could have spent with her working on more of his music.

And when she got pregnant with his baby, Y/n was desperate and silently hoped that the little bundle of joy growing inside of her would help fix all that had been broken between them. But it was no avail. If anything, it only made them grow further apart. Perhaps it was because he felt more bound to her when he didn’t want to be with her at all.

He told her he wanted the divorce half-way through the six month mark of her pregnancy. She was big, she was struggling, and she was absolutely exhausted, yet Harry couldn’t find it in his heart to push it aside any longer. He needed to let her go.

But as Harry stands here, watching Y/n looking as gorgeous as ever for another man that isn’t even hers, makes him want to take back everything he had ever done.

And it’s not that he didn’t before — he’s wanted to take it back from the second he walked into their home with divorce papers in his hands, his pregnant wife sobbing on the kitchen counter, asking why it had to be this way — it just feels like a fresh wound on his already scarred and fragile heart, and he genuinely feels as if a part of him has died.

“You’re going on a date.” Harry says knowingly, his frown deepening in the corners of his lips. And he knows he has no right to feel the way he does — so upset and hurt, like his heart had been ripped in two — but he can’t help himself from falling apart.

At the end of the day, she’s still his wife. Sure, the divorce papers had been filed, but there was still so much that had to be done for their last final steps. But of course, just like everything else that involved Y/n, Harry didn’t make the time for it.

Y/n shrugs, her thumbs twiddling together with her head down, eyes casted at the ground beneath his feet.

It’s been a year since Harry brought the divorce papers home, and Y/n’s barely looked at him since. Sometimes he’s thankful she doesn’t, but sometimes, in times like these, he wishes she would… even if it’ll hurt.

“Yeah, I guess. Just some guy I met the other night at the grocery store. Couldn’t reach one of the cereals for Topher and saw me struggling. Guess he thought I was pretty or something and told me he wanted to take me out.”

“I didn’t ask.”

She knows she should have stopped herself from talking sooner, but being around Harry makes her head spin and her body disassociate from herself. She doesn’t ever know what to do, or what to say, whenever he’s around.

There’s a part of her that tries so desperately to act as if everything is normal — like nothing had ever happened — mainly for Topher’s sake. But the other part of her knows that that’s such an impossible thing to do no matter how hard she tries.

Y/n purses her lips, dropping her hands at her sides in defeat. “Right.”

And it’s not that Harry wants to talk to her this way — like he doesn’t care about her, like he can barely stand the sight of her anymore; it’s the farthest from the truth, really, he’s just utter shit at saying how he feels or what he’s thinking. He’ll lie, and lie, and lie — chew on the truth and spit it out if it means he doesn’t have to apologize.

And right now, that’s all he wants to do. He wants to break down and drown in his tears, hold her to him and tell her how sorry he is for everything he’s put her through. But he has this unexplainable, unsettling wall built around him that he can’t knock down no matter how hard he swings at it.

He curses his career for it, really. He wishes he could be one of the celebrities that says fame hasn’t gotten to his head, but it has. In the most selfish, most arrogant of ways, fame has made him so prideful that he never puts himself to blame for anything that happens in his life.

His mother was the first one to tell him, and still never fails to remind him now that the divorce has been put in place.

You never fight for anything in your life. She’d always say. You think you’re too good for your mistakes. Put your wife through hell, making your kid go through hell, all because you swallow the two words that could fix everything you’ve ever broken. 

But he wants to fight for Y/n. Oh, how badly does he want to, but at this point, it’s just too late. All the damage had already been done, and no woman could ever forgive a man that left her during the nine months she needed the man she loves the most.

“Didn’t mean it like that, just —“ he croaks brokenly, gulping down the cries he doesn’t deserve to weep. “Does he know you’re married?”

The question makes her feel guilty — really guilty, the kind of guilty that makes her stomach swim with bile because nothing she does is ever going to feel right, for either of them. And she knows going on a date when the divorce hasn’t been set in stone is just making everything so much harder.

But what is she to do? Wait around for Harry to finally take the time out of his music to go to the courtroom so she could finally move on? She can’t keep being legally bound to a man that no longer loves her, she can’t keep doing this dance by herself because she’ll never have the heart to find somebody else.

And she just needs somebody else.

Because she’s still so deeply in love with Harry, it hurts. Everyday feels like the world is grabbing her at her feet, sucking her into its core until she’s floating in the midst of everybody’s life except her own. She’s living day by day stuck between the confines of marriage and separation and the worst part is, she feels not only separated from Harry, but also from herself.

It was so good. Everything about them was just so good… and Y/n doesn’t know what she had done wrong to make Harry fall out of love with her.  But somewhere between their picture-perfect relationship hid an unbearable amount of blame being put onto Y/n for things that weren’t her fault, or her responsibility, or her obligations.

The stupidest, littlest of things would set Harry off — leading to heart-wrenching periods of silence, an uncomfortable amount of tension, and constant reminders that her love wasn’t enough to make him happy.

And she just can’t keep living with that anymore. She can’t stand the fact that she has to keep thinking of him because he’s still here, all the time, swimming in the same gray area she’s been drowning in.

“That’s not fair.” Y/n frowns, her eyes briefly looking up to get a glimpse of his face, which is red and as broken as ever, and she curses her wandering eyes.

“I don’t go out with other women because you’re still my wife.” Harry nearly sobs the last word, still finding it hard to speak after everything they had been through. Because really, is she his wife, or just the ghost of her? “I still love you just as much. I’d be cheating on you if I even thought of it.”

And it’s true. Harry hasn’t looked at or even thought of another woman since the moment his heart found hers. She’s the first one he sees — in a room full of people, in his daydreams, in his music — she’s the only one he sees, in everything. He couldn’t even imagine it.

Y/n flutters her eyes closed to keep her composure, wishing now more than ever to be sucked up into the earth’s core again because she doesn’t want to be here anymore — in a room so close to him, feeling his every breath, hearing his every word echo in her head.

“Harry… I’m not your wife anymore. We’re separated. You’ve made it more than clear to me that you don’t love or want me anymore. I can’t keep living my life on your time.”

Y/n’s looking up at him as if begging him to understand, but he doesn’t. He may have fucked up one too many times down the line, but at the end of the day, he’s never once told Y/n he didn’t love her anymore. And he couldn’t even dream of telling Y/n he didn’t want her anymore, he’d throw up if he so much as tried.

There isn’t a universe Harry wouldn’t want Y/n in. She’s all he’s ever wanted.

“When have I ever said that?”

He asks it like her words sucked all that was left out of him and she almost wants to take it back, but she won’t.

“You didn’t have to.”

His eyes drop to the floor and a new wave of tears begin to rise at the surface, pushing at his throat.

He has nothing to say for himself.

Y/n sighs, her eyes wandering around the room as she waits for Harry to break this deafening silence, but he doesn’t. So, she lifts her purse higher upon her shoulder before coughing awkwardly to the open air.

“Topher is in the car seat all ready to go. His binkie should be in there, too. I would love to stay and chat but I really need to get —”

“Please, don’t go.” Harry interrupts, his voice cracking as he closes his eyes, loose tears falling down his cheeks and hitting the hardwood floor below them, hand inching closer to hers. “Stay here with me.”

She’s frozen still, the feeling of her hand being this close to his knocking the breath straight out of her lungs and nearly sending her to her knees. Because how badly does she want to — how badly does Y/n want to break the laws of reality just to be with her Harry again, even for a second, but she can’t keep letting herself believe they will ever come back from this. She can’t keep going back to Harry.

She has to stop choosing Harry.

“I can’t, Harry.” She breathes out, not having the heart or the strength to look up into the very eyes that never fail to make her fall in love. “I can’t stay with you any longer. I have to go.”

And before Harry could reach for her any farther, she was already gone.

-

Y/n was practically dead to the world — all her apartment lights shut off, all doors and windows locked, phone turned off and buried somewhere beneath all the covers she’s been hibernating in — before she heard someone practically beating down her front door.

She rolls over to her nightstand, groaning as her eyes blink to adjust to the blue light reading 1:04AM vibrantly in the dark. She sits herself up on her elbow, huffing out a breath as her hands reach up to rub the dryness out of her eyes.

She looks around her room as her brain scrambles to process reality, but it isn’t until another series of knocks jolt her up from where she sits, nearly losing balance in the process.

“Why? Why can’t I have nice things?” Y/n whispers to herself as she makes her way out of her bedroom to her front door, way too far out of her mind to bother checking her peephole before unlocking the knob and swinging it open.

“Mitch!” Y/n shrieks, her arms held out stiffly in front of her as Harry’s body is thrown into them — not so sure if holding him up is the appropriate thing to do considering they haven’t even touched each other once since the separation. “What the fuck!”

“You don’t answer your fucking phone!” Mitch fumes, his eyes bewildered and unsteady as his body is so visibly angry he doesn’t even know what to do with himself — pinching his lips between his fingers, practically walking in circles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pit of fire burning in his chest. “Needed to get him the fuck away from me!”

Mitch knows it’s not Y/n’s fault that she wasn’t answering his calls — it is well over midnight, after all — but he has been so pushed over the edge that he doesn’t have time to think about anything else other than being as far away from Harry as humanly possible.

Y/n’s struck with confusion because in all the four years she had been with Harry, he never had any problems with Mitch. Sure, they’d bump heads about which notes sound better in certain songs, or bicker a bit after long hours at the studio, but never anything like this.

“Been pissing me off all night about your stupid date! Proper fucking idiot, he is. Files a divorce with you, for what? To get jealous at every man that makes eyes at you? Arrogant son of a bitch, had half the mind to knock him in before I decided to bring him here.”

“Shut up, Mitch!” Harry growls groggily against the skin of Y/n’s shoulder.

Mitch turns his body to face Harry’s back, one hand on his hip while the other rubs along the roots of his beard, his face scrunching with what Y/n can only consider to be a look of complete malice.

He knows he shouldn’t be throwing Harry under the bus about their private conversations, especially ones that consist of Y/n, but there’s only so much he could put up with.

It’s sickening, really — having to constantly be there for Harry when everything that’s gotten him to this point has been his own fault. Harry doesn’t deserve comforting, but Mitch has been alongside him for far too long to not care about his feelings and emotions… no matter how wrong they are.

And what’s even more sickening is seeing how badly he’s hurting his own self by avoiding the divorce entirely instead of taking responsibility for his actions. Mitch could go on and on about all the ways to make things right again, yet still in some way, somehow, it always seems to go right past Harry’s head.

Because trying to sway Harry’s mind or his decisions is practically like pulling teeth — he’ll always find a way to go against what everybody else says and it drives Mitch up the wall. He’s sick and tired of wasting his breath all because Harry’s too stubborn to take anybody else’s path but his own.

“You couldn’t just bring him home? Where the hell is Topher?”

Y/n is struggling to keep Harry up because she’s not even sure if she’s doing it right. He’s got his entire body pressed up against hers, all of his weight being held by her still half-asleep arms and he shouldn’t even be here.

“No, I couldn’t bring him home because the first three times I tried, he wouldn’t get out of my damn car.” Mitch growls through clenched teeth, the side of his fist taking one last swing at Y/n’s open door.

He takes a couple deep breaths, his elbow leaning against the doorframe and he squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure. “Topher’s with Sarah for the night. Now, for the love of fuck, make Harry grow a pair of balls so he can finally talk to you and not me, please.”

His eyes are pleading with Y/n’s silently, and she nods her head at him in response. She can’t leave Harry like this if she wanted to, anyways.

She sighs, holding Harry against her chest now to get a proper grip on him, and she can feel him press a small kiss against the crook of her neck.

“Have a good night, Mitch. Take care of yourself.”

She smiles softly at him, and for a moment in time, she feels like everything might be okay.

Maybe she only feels this way because this is the first time she’s touched Harry in a year now and it gives her the sense of clarity she’s been missing for so long. Or, maybe she feels this way because Mitch was always the one who was rooting for them despite everything they’ve been through, and knowing he still cares enough about the both of them to bring Harry to her apartment to talk gives her the smallest bit of hope she’s been needing.

“You too, Y/n.”

Mitch gives her one last reassuring look before he shuts the door, leaving Y/n and Harry alone in the confines of her apartment with absolutely nowhere else to go.

She guides him to her couch, which was a bit more difficult than she expected considering Harry is nearly twice her height and much stronger than he realizes. It takes almost all the energy out of her to get him to take a few steps of his own until he’s finally sitting upon the cushions.

“Your date.” Harry mumbles against her shoulder while she lays him down upon the couch, his glossy eyes looking up at her with genuine hurt and concern when his head lays upon the pillow. “Did he treat you nice?”

Y/n smiles softly to herself, reaching for the blanket sprawled atop of the couch — the very blanket Harry gifted her for the first Christmas they spent together. It’s been her favorite ever since.

“I didn’t go.”

“You didn’t go?”

Harry can’t deny that he feels happy about it — happy that she didn’t spend the night with somebody else, happy that she couldn’t find it in her heart to move on from him quite yet. But another part of him — a bigger part of him — suddenly feels guilty, and empty, and like his insides have all been set on fire until they all melted to nothing.

She’s been alone all night. She’s been alone every night. And sure, she had Topher to keep her company throughout the week… but she’s lonely and she’s sad. He can see it in everything she does. And tonight was her one night to be herself again, and somehow, Harry managed to find a way to take it all away from her, just like he’s done with everything else.

She was going to go if he hadn’t guilt-tripped her and begged her not to leave. And she looked so pretty, so fucking breathtaking, for nobody to see it. And that alone is enough to make the last bit of his heart completely shatter until his chest becomes a voided pit.

Y/n nods her head, emotionless, as she pulls the blanket up to his chin. “You were right, we’re still married. It wasn’t fair of me.”

She knows it would have been fair either way, but after seeing how upset Harry looked upon the realization that she was going out with somebody else, she couldn’t stomach the thought of spending the rest of the night trying to make another man happy — one, she’s sure, wouldn’t have even made her happy.

She still didn’t choose Harry, but she didn’t choose anybody else, either, and to know that puts her head at rest. At least for a little while.

“With that being said,” Y/n coughs a bit, blinking away the tears that were mere seconds from falling, “You really need to pick a court date, Harry.”

He knows he does. He’s been draining himself out trying to think of the best time to get it all done — it has taken him twelve months, after all. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to be done — not with their marriage, not with her.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever want for it to all be done. And so whenever he plans to meet with his lawyer, he can only get as far as parking his car in the lot because he never has the strength to actually walk inside.

Because he knows once he does, there’s no going back, and he can’t imagine himself not going back to her.

So, he’ll cry. He’ll scream, he’ll punch at his steering wheel, he’ll hit his head against the headrest over, and over, and over again until he’s so worn out he can hardly breathe. Because he can’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it.

There have been five appointments he couldn’t bring himself to go to, and she has no idea.

“I can’t.” Harry whispers with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands — refusing to look at her because he doesn’t know what will happen if he does. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?”

Y/n’s breath hitches in her throat because of all the things she expected him to say, that surely wasn’t one of them.

Deep down, she knows he’s hurting, but she never expected it to be so hard on him. Besides, he made it seem so easy — to leave her, like she meant nothing to him after the four years they had been together. And she couldn’t count the amount of times Harry had reminded her that he didn’t have feelings for her anymore.

So that’s what she always believed — that he didn’t love her, that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t need her. But hearing Harry cry out those very words, do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?, makes her question everything she had ever known.

Because he did leave her — has left her on her own for a year now and has never given her a reason to believe he wanted it any other way until this very moment; Harry laying drunk on her living room couch, crying over the thought of her with another man. He has barely looked at her, has barely even touched her, until now — until it’s been far too late.

“You’ve already left me.” Y/n whispers, the tears she once blinked back now falling freely and silently down her cheeks.

There’s a crack in her voice that Harry can feel down his spine, shaking him to his core and leaving him frozen still. He’s never heard her sound so hurt and broken before and he feels his chest hallowing from the inside out; he is the only one to blame.

If he could just tell her everything he hasn’t — if he could just prove to her that not a single fiber in his body has let her go — no matter the consequences, he would in a heartbeat.

But Harry really hasn’t fought for anything in his life, he wouldn’t even know where to begin — he wouldn’t even know what to say, or what to do, to pick up all these pieces. And the worst part is that he wants to, so badly, but he worries that it won’t be enough — that he won’t be enough — and he won’t be able to handle it. His entire world would collapse.

He blindly reaches for her hand because she’s the only one that can ground him and he feels like he’s falling into a never-ending abyss with no safety-net. Truthfully, he’s been feeling that way for an entire year, until now, with her hand in his.

“Not even a little bit.” He breathes out from quivering lips, eyes unblinking, staring helplessly at their intertwined fingers.

Y/n sobs behind her pursed lips, squeezing her eyes closed as she stomps her foot down upon the floor because this can’t be happening. He can’t be doing this, not now — not when she’s this far into grieving his loss, not when she was finally taking her first step away from him. He can’t.

“Harry —”

“Before you say anything please, please just listen to me.”

Both of his hands are now cradling hers in his palms, slightly tugging at her arm because he is wholeheartedly desperate to say everything she needs to hear.

If he doesn’t get it all out now, he may never have her again. And if he has to spend the rest of his goddamn life being so lonely that he begins to loathe the world for moving on when his own stopped turning, he’d rather do it knowing he at least tried.

And if there’s one person he’d try anything for — do anything for — it would be his wife.

“When I filed the divorce it — it wasn’t because of you, okay? I didn’t — fuck — I thought it was my only choice. And it wasn’t because I didn’t love you the same, or because I wanted to be with somebody else, it was because I wasn’t what you deserved.”

Y/n’s staring down at him with furrowed eyebrows and open lips, everything around her moving so quickly she can hardly keep up.

These are answers she’s been begging for for nearly two years now, yet somehow, nothing could have prepared herself for them. She’s gotten so used to wondering — so used to questioning how the universe will take control of their destiny that now, having all the answers seems to defy all forms of faith.

It’ll all be in her hands now. What they’ll be in a year from now, where they’ll be a year from now, or who they’ll be with a year from now is all up to her. Because at the end of it all, Harry wouldn’t be pulling her closer, sobbing into her hand, breaking down all his walls and boundaries if he didn’t want her to break off the divorce.

“I would be away from you for months on end, so goddamn far away that god forbid something were to happen to you, I couldn’t be the first one by your side. I couldn’t be the first one to make you smile each morning, or be the first one to keep you together whenever the world was breaking you down.

“I wasn’t your first, for anything. I couldn’t be. And it was tearing me apart, knowing you were all alone every day and every night. But then I’d come home and it would feel — it would feel so good, like time hadn’t passed between us… but it did, so, so fast, and in a blink of an eye, I’d have to leave you again.”

His mind thinks back to all the times he’s had Y/n crying on his shoulder the nights before he had to leave the country, clinging onto him and begging him to stay with her just a little while longer.

They were so in love with each other that they hardly wanted to spend any time away from one another because they had a connection that was so raw and so real, they couldn’t find it in anything or anybody else. So each time he had to wake up at the crack of dawn to travel the world, Y/n pouting on the bed watching him pack his life together, would break him in two every single time.

The world meant nothing without her.

“The hole that kept swallowing me up every time I had to walk out on you became too much. But I couldn’t tell you that. I couldn’t tell you that because — because I wanted to hold it together so badly for you. I needed to keep it together because I knew if I couldn’t, you wouldn’t be able to, either. It was already so hard on you and I knew that and I kept leaving. And if I had told you that I spent every single night away from you crying my fucking eyes out, you’d sacrifice everything else you had to come be with me… and I couldn’t do that to you.

“And the more I kept bottling it up, the more I took it out on you. I didn’t want to — didn’t even mean to — but I did, in ways that I couldn’t justify to you because I couldn’t even justify them to myself. Then there was a part of me — the worst and most selfish part of me — that couldn’t apologize for it because the world had somehow convinced me that I didn’t need to.”

By now, Y/n’s knees are pressed against the front of the couch as Harry hooks one of his arms around her legs, his forehead making a home at the front of her hip.

“I’d just get more upset with myself, more angry, more ashamed. It was this constant cycle — feeling like I wasn’t enough for you, then blaming you for all my mistakes, pushing you away even farther. Then you got pregnant.”

They both let out a sob.

“And all I could think about was… if I couldn’t be there for my wife, how could I be there for my son? How could I show him the world and give him everything he ever wished for if I couldn’t even do that for you — for the one person I would choose over anything?”

His chin rests where his forehead once did, his red and puffy eyes trying their best to stay open enough to take a good look at her.

“I loved you beyond words. I looked at you and I saw my entire life in front of me. You continuously blew me away, every single day. Being away from you was — it was dangerous. You weren’t beside me and I was just this empty pit wallowing in hotel rooms that I didn’t even want to be in. I couldn’t get enough of you no matter how much I tried. You consumed me whole, and yet I still found a way to convince you that you were the one who wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets out a laugh through his cries, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s capable of destroying such beautiful things — things that were eternal, things that were once unbreakable.

And here he is, praying that he can also be the man that fixes them.

“Then I thought… if she found someone else that could give her everything she deserved, maybe he could be a better father to our son, too. And I was so scared and so angry and so sad I just — I did what I thought would make you happier instead of being a fucking man and owning up to it. But I didn’t, and now look at what’s in my hands. You’re all alone because of me. You’re crying because of me. Topher has to go back and forth between his parents because of me. I’m skipping meetings with my lawyer because I decided to file for a fucking divorce I didn’t even want. I broke our family apart, I broke us apart, I tore you from the inside out and didn’t even tell you that I was sorry.”

His eyes are closed, mouth open as it chokes out sounds of sorrow and pain, sounds of collapsing lungs and a torn chest.

“And I am so fucking sorry, baby.”

He speaks between sobs, his words broken and cracked but Y/n hears them loud and clear. He’s got her hand cradled against his soaking cheek, her palm pressed against the corner of his mouth that Harry keeps kissing.

He can’t fucking breathe and he really thinks this is it — that these are his last moments on earth and the next time he blinks, he’ll never open his eyes again.

Would he even want to, if Y/n isn’t the first thing he sees?

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t the husband you needed me to be. I’m sorry that I let you down. I’m sorry I let our son down. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been waiting on me and held yourself back because of me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved.”

He keeps kissing at her hand, rubbing at the back of her legs, holding onto her like he’d collapse if he dared let her go. He knows he’s going to have to eventually, but he can’t think about that right now.

He needs this — to feel her, to smell her, to soak her all in before their new forever begins, spent apart and living lives so far away from one another that they couldn’t cross paths even if they wanted to.

This is his goodbye. He knows it. She’s not going to forgive him no matter how much he begs for her to understand — how could she? He can’t blame her. He hasn’t even forgiven himself and doesn’t expect anything more from her now, other than to listen to him one last time.

“I love you so much and there will never be a universe where I don’t, or won’t. I think about you… everyday, every second. To this day, I wake up reaching for you at least three times a night, wondering why you aren’t with me. Every time I come to pick Topher up I spend an hour in front of my bathroom mirror telling myself that I have to hold myself back from you. And then when I see you, I have to keep myself together and hold myself in place because you just get more and more beautiful with every day that passes and — and it breaks my heart all over again.”

Y/n reaches her hand down to his hair, gently brushing her fingers back against his scalp because he needs her — she knows he needs her and she can’t choose to be selfish now.

Right now, he doesn’t need her to be anything but his wife, and this may be the last time she’ll ever be his.

They keep each other embraced for a while, silently, unmoving and bracing themselves for the fall they’re each going to have to take.

These are their dying moments — their final moments before the casket gets shut and thrown six feet below them — and it won’t be long before the dirt from the ground gets piled up again, over their bodies, leaving them to decay in the life they once believed belonged to them.

They know it’s to come, because this is the first time that they have been so close to each other, yet feel so lonely all at once. And it’s not supposed to be this way.

“I can’t pick a date, Y/n,” Harry breaks the silence with a whisper, almost losing his voice along the way because what he’s about to say is enough to kill him, “but if you give me one I’ll — I’ll do it, okay?”

He holds her hand even tighter than before.

“If that’s what will make you happy, I’ll do it.”

[calamitouscynic]

What grabbed you in particular in the Palpatine being a creeper scribble? #curious

the fuckin,

everything

(also, this got Extremely Long, so there's a readmore cut now rip @beckyh2112 I'm sorry lol)

no, but in the first part you posted it was that last snapshot bit of fox trapped in Palpatine's mind or whatever it is? like, hold on I'm getting QUOTES for you bc I'm, screaming, eternally

OKAY, so from part one the Specific Part that got me hooked was

The Sith Lord carried a fox in his arms, its fur Guard-red, and a jeweled collar around its neck.

Mace let fury sweep over, through, and past him.

like, MACE. dude. and then the little introspection about him hating but not with his own hatred, and how Plo would. give that a chef's kiss, because its fucking magnificent

and then like in part 2, Fox's little section, where you can start to get a feel for how weird it gets, like, what I assume is being subservient to a sith fucking lord in said sith lord's own mind? fucking amazing.

and then there's this which makes me go white-hot with rage every fucking time, but it's so good

His owner chuckled. “Look at you being so sweet for me, pet.”

like, BEX, bex, you're killing me.

in part 3 (I think?) the entire section where the commanders are space!skyping to figure out what the fuck is going on with Fox is great. and the little bits of clone culture regarding telling how safe or out of a battlezone someone is by how much of their armor is off, and Wolffe needing sinker and boost nearby to make sure they're safe, Cody bringing rex to say hi to bacara, like, fucking phenomenal amounts of cultural insight in one paragraph dude, holy shit

and then the difference between the Corrie's and the rest of the troopers and how the guard treats getting to be a sith lords chew toys in ways that are Really Fucking Upsetting to anyone else hearing about it but that's just situation normal, all fucked up for them

and then, again, because I think the best part of this little series is the small but Deeply Upsetting sections from Fox:

Fox never strayed far from his owner. He wasn’t always within arm’s reach, but the two of them were always in the same room. Often, Fox curled up next to his owner, too tired to do more than chrr when he was petted. If he was awake to notice being touched.

He was just so tired. No matter how much he slept, he felt disconnected and drained when he faded back into consciousness. Always in his owner’s arms. Always hurting and distressed until familiar hands stroked him from head to tail and chucked him under the chin. Then his owner would feed him Dark little creatures, delicious on his tongue and nauseating on his stomach.

I'm just over here like that one conspiracy theorist meme dude from It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, or whatever it is, you know the dude, regarding Fox and Palpatine

because it is genuinely upsetting to me, but in a good way? like "If he was awake to notice being touched." disgusting, horrific, I want to tear Palpatine's hands off with my teeth and eat them out of sheer rage at that. and then the very last line? the thing about the little dark creatures? I am incandescent with rage

and then you go and describe it as "delicious on [Fox's] tongue and nauseating on his stomach" and what a way to get your point across, like yEAH BEX YOU GO BEX, that completely fucking vibes with how I think of the dark side

this is Much Longer than you were probably expecting rip, anyway TLDR fucking everything bex holy shit

no, but for real, its the interspersal (?) of the real world drama of people trying to figure out what's going on with fox, dealing with the end of the war, regular politics, etc, and then getting slapped in the face with fox trapped in a sith lords mind as his pet and how absolutely creepy it feels from the outside

phenomenal fucking job, you're doing amazing, I'm outshining the sun out of sheer rage at Palpatine

[skepticalarrie]

Everyone shits on new stans for not understanding babygate or the complexity of it. Because we were all here for it, we watching it play out, we saw the pap pictures, we waited for bears on stage every night, we saw the fake birth certificate, we saw tweets first hand, we saw how sad GMA was, etc. But if you didn't experience first hand I get how overwhelming it can be, its a hell of a lot to take in. Yeah, they should do their research but even then its hard to grasp on to. No one wants to believe that their fav is so deep in the closet that they gave him a fake child. No one wants to believe the industry is really that disgusting. Experiencing something first hand is so much different than looking and piecing together old information. They should do their research of course, but i feel like more vets should be open to answering the "dumb" questions, that seem like basic knowledge, because they genuinely don't understand. Most newbies truly don't mean offense when asking "do you believe in *such and such*" or "why did belfast happen" "were the bears an actual thing?" etc, they just weren't there to experience or understand it. (this isn't directed to anyone in particular, most vets are good at answering questions and having patience with newbies especially you, Gabi, etc, its just frustrating that some vets shit on newbies for not knowing)

Hello, anon!

I agree with you, living through something is a completely different experience than learning about it afterward. I joined the fandom in late 2013 and I also left a few times during the years so there are a few things that I completely missed while it was happening and those are the things I have the hardest time understanding fully. I always loved new fans for several reasons, first because the more the merrier and second because is a breath of fresh air, I feel like sometimes to people who have been here for too long get repetitive and stuck on the same things over and over, so new people usually come with a new perspective of things, which is great.

However I do understand why some people get a bit upset with newbies sometimes - although I don’t think it justifies calling people names and bullying, that’s just not cool in any kind of situation. But I get why some people don’t really have much patience for it and that’s simply not their thing. For the past two years (maybe) I have the feeling new fans are trying less and less each day, I believe I just reblogged something about it too, and it upsets me deeply how people come to my ask box and doesn’t even bother to scroll down my posts for two seconds or to take a look on my tags (which is literally pinned on the top of my blog). I try to keep my blog organized so people can find the answers themselves, so they can easily find information and do their own research about things. I’m naturally a very patient person and I love talking with people, so honestly giving my opinion or pointing in the right direction is absolutely no bother, it’s lovely. Also, although I was always around, I was more like a “passive” larrie for many years, I blogged the same way I’m blogging right now like maybe in 2015 and that was about it, my dynamics and the way I chose to position myself in this fandom changed a lot over the years. So I’m definitely not as tired as many people are at this point. But what bothers me is when new people who are having “weak” moments ask me to convince them, that truly pisses me off because I’m not here for that, I don’t want to convince anyone and honestly, I just think this is people being lazy. Plus I’m sure I can talk for a lot of larries here when I say that, but we get a lot of passive-aggressive asks, we get a lot of antis sending us stuff in order to provoke a reaction. I like giving people the benefit of the doubt and see things from a new perspective but I’m definitely a bit defensive sometimes too just because of what I’m seeing on my ask box. Not to mention all the hate and threats coming in daily, and I get nothing compared to people who have their blogs for years.

So what I’m saying is that maybe some people's reactions towards newbies are given to several factors and it doesn’t come down to only having patience and not having patience.

[normal-thoughts-official]

UWU I'm in the mood for some Raphael talk, I love the headcanon you've talked about in the chat about Raphael tolerating Alec only because he makes his dad happy (which is so damn valid of him), and it's one of my most fave things do you have more slightly silly headcanons about it?

you really want me to be beaten up huh may. you want them to come for me again. you want to ruin my life

okay disclaimer Alec stans pwease dont hate me uwu I'm not saying i hate Alec I'm saying that i dont think Raphael would vibe with him. especially after the whole punch which I'll never get over cuz like i KNOW rationally that alec didnt have the full story and if izzy was hurt and sitting beside a white shadowhunter he would go there and beat them up all the same cuz alec's like this, but I'm still upset eidndidjdid my boy doesnt deserve this okay

anyway with that being said

i dont think its Raphael like, genuinely hating him as much as them having nothing in common besides their mutual love for Magnus and desire to see him happy. so Raphael can tolerate him fine, but he's not exactly dying to be best friends. besides, alec's like, all of the most annoying things about shadowhunters (all serious, never fucking relaxes, must have a weapon close at all times, doesn't understand food, doesn't listen to music, doesnt-) that arent like straight up nazist bigotry. so hes just like. ugh. whatever. I'm here for Magnus. leave pls

i can absolutely see that tbh Raphael just goes to their house and is all like "Alec leave i want to talk to Magnus" and alec's like "this is my house?" and raphael's like "and?" and alec's like "Fine, ill take a walk. Magnus, Raphael is here." but he also kisses Magnus goodbye in front of Raphael because he can, in fact, be an ass

also i know i told u about that already but Raphael lowkey challenges him every time like. he'll come by Magnus' and bring food, and of course theres food for 3 because Raphael is not gonna be that rude and he doesn't want to make Magnus feel like Raphael wants him to choose between Raphael and Alec. Alec makes Magnus happy and Raphael would never want to make Magnus feel like his love or presence in his life is conditional. Plus, he doesn't actually hate him. Just a little.

anyway so he brings the food and he's like (clearly judgemental tone) "i brought hot sauce because i figured Alec doesn't usually eat spicy food" and he's obviously correct, Alec had never eaten anything with season in his life before he met Magnus, much less pepper. he's the kind of ultimate, boss-level gringo who puts salt on his food when he's feeling adventurous

so Raphael sits down and puts the food on his plate and he pours hot sauce into his plate while making unwavering eye contact with Alec (yeah raphael can eat in this because he deserves it and i said so) and it's an obvious challenge and it evidently works because Alec 1- is competitive, and 2- actually wants Raphael's respect because he knows how important he is to Magnus. so he takes the salsa from Raphael and starts pouring it too while maintaining eye contact right back, jaw clenched in challenge, looking all serious and Magnus is like "children, please" and raphael's all like "oh no no no, let him" but Alec considers that a win because Raphael is clearly trying to contain a smile and thats the first step to winning him over

so anyway Alec sweats and grimaces through the whole meal, cuz like, look yes he may have pain tolerance because he's a shadowhunter but he's also the bitch who reacted to taking a sip of beer like someone had farted on his face. he can't hide his reactions for shit, but fuck if he doesn't lick the plate clean (not literally like gross) and doesn't shed a single tear, even as he clearly can't keep his eyes open with the effort

Magnus is like "Alexander, you dont have to do this" and alec's like "(eyes squeezed shut, grimacing, drenched in sweat) do what? this is very good" and Raphael is smiling into his plate even as Magnus shoots him dirty looks

then Alec is like "i won. i ate it all" and Raphael is like "(looking at his red sweaty face and puffy eyes) really?"

also look ill always love the hc that Raphael resents Alec for his height and Alec doesnt even notice. Raphael is not short, god damn it, hes 175! thats TEN whole centimeters above the mexican average! he was the tallest boy in Guadalajara! RAPHAEL IS TALL, OKAY

EXCEPT everyone in the goddamn shadow world is apparently a god damn giant. Its humiliating enough that Magnus is 180. but Magnus is his dad, so whatever. but Alec is FUCKING 190. no one needs that much tall. no one! Raphael went from being the tallest boy in the neighborhood to the shortest, and boy he is so not pleased about it

but Alec has no idea because who cares? (Raphael. Raphael cares. deeply. he cares so much) it's not even good to be that tall, he keeps banging his head on things. so there will be moments like. Raphael is standing in front of the bookshelf, seeming very focused. Alec shrugs, figures he's looking for something, and puts the book he was going to put there up. Raphael shoots him a dirty look that might as well be a stab, and Alec's like ???????? did i disrupt you? sorry? and Raphael just crosses his arms like "you didnt do anything, i dont know what you're talking about"

in reality the shelf was too high up because Magnus adjusted his shelves to his and Alec's height, and Raphael refused to stand on his tiptoes or god forbid, a stool, to grab his book, so he was just glaring at the shelf until the book came to him or something. and when Alec put the book up he was mad cuz Alec could reach it fjdndid

later Alec tells Magnus about it like "i dont get what i did. is he just that private?" and Magnus is like "hmm. i have no idea, darling" but next time Raphael comes, the shelves have been spelled to adjust to the book picker's height

also this always makes me think of that scene in hsm where zeke tries to talk to sharpay and she goes "evaporate, tall person!" and leaves and i love that mental image tbh

also like. eventually Alec apologizes for the punching thing (look. look. Im still salty and Raphael deserves it okay) and Raphael is like. moved because something deep inside of him still believed it was his fault and he was a monster, and it's. nice. and Alec kind of extends his arms and Raphael is like "dont think so" and crosses his arms and Alec kind of very very slowly lifts his arm and pats Raphael's head once and Raphael wants to scream and Alec looks very awkward and sheepish and Magnus bursts out laughing

(Raphael doesnt mind, though, because Magnus is genuinely so happy all day that they had a good interaction. so happy. and Raphael thinks, okay, this is okay. it's good if it makes Magnus happy.)

(Magnus also pats his head and plays with his hair, but its okay because Magnus has always done that and Raphael doesnt mind. only from him though. and raphael's partners. but anyway)

plus whenever Magnus is like, upset, or sick or something, theyre like. an unit. because for all they have no common interests they do think very alike (autistic solidarity i guess) and are very practical when it comes to taking care of others, and they both just. adore Magnus, okay. so Raphael will arrive, make Magnus soup. while he makes soup, Alec stays with him and takes his temperature. once Raphael is back with the soup, Alec goes out to buy medicine, and Raphael stays with him to make him company. and so on. at some point Alec is almost falling asleep by Magnus' side and Raphael taps his shoulder and points to the chair nearby, and Alec nods and dozes off for a while. then its the other way around. Magnus isnt seriously sick, of course, but he doesn't usually get sick so it's an event, plus they're both Like This. and for all the grief they give each other, they trust each other to take care of Magnus. theres no argument about that

(Magnus was resting, but he did see some of these moments, and smiled a bit to himself before dozing off again)

also Raphael and Ragnor gave Alec the ultimate shovel talk (Ragnor doesn't trust anyone after Camille, and while neither do cat and dot, they were more chill), but it lowkey backfired because they were like "if you ever hurt him, we'll remove your kneecaps" and Alec was like "(nodding seriously) thats fair"

also i know we've talked about this already but i also love the idea that Raphael goes to their house and is all absentmindedly like "hm can i have some coffee" and alec's like "sure, ill make it :) you stay here and talk to Magnus" and when Alec comes back he hands Raphael his coffee in a "best. bonus son. ever" mug and then he leans back against the wall, sipping his own coffee from his "world's #1 stepdad" mug that he bought himself, trying to hide his shit eating grin, and Raphael scowls and deliberately holds it so his hand covers the words, and Magnus laughs and his eyes shine as he sips his tea.

(later, Raphael is like. guess me and lightwood have a dynamic now. gross. but he still rolls with it)

in short Raphael and Alec being little shits to each other but still building something of a relationship for Magnus and always taking care of him..... ultimate trope

[oxtoxtoxto]

Supergirl and What it Means to be Marketed To

i think what bothers me the most about supergirl ending isn’t necessarily that it is, itself, ending. that’s a weird sentence, sure, but i’m not entirely attached to the show as other people in the fandom are. i might be 150 thousand words deep into a crossover with the show and being told “hey it’s not going to get another season after the next” was a pretty significant blow to my motivation (which i think i’ll get over) but overall i always found the show... mediocre? okay? perfectly adequate for what it was (with a few choice exceptions)? 

supergirl was never bad, but to a point the day-to-day episodic nature of it didn’t really catch me like it might’ve others. maybe i’m just full of myself but i felt like i could figure out what the moral quandry of each episode generally turned out to be, so long as it was one of those episodes in which a specific moral judgement was to be made. medusa focuses on how fucked up the luthor family is, and it wasn’t hard to predict that kara’s own family might be brought up as a contrast. episodes generally had a formula and that’s, fine? okay? sometimes it grated that i could understand what the plot was about fifteen minutes into an episode, but it was, like, fine. 

no, supergirl no longer having episodes isn’t what bothers me. the cast has their own reasons to call the curtains; melissa wants to raise her kid, which is a decision i think was made with a lot of thought and care, covid-19 has rendered shooting kinda risky in general, etc. 

it’s none of that, it’s the fact that supergirl felt like a show for me.

it’s hard to explain, i guess? but like, i go into comic book-related shows (and to an extent sci-fi in general) expecting myself, a trans woman, not to be even remotely the target audience. at all. like maybe they might make token efforts to be inclusive? but i realize from the very beginning that i’m not the people they really wrote the show for.

supergirl was different.

supergirl is probably the first and only comic book-focused series that i felt was made for me. it felt like a comic book show for women, and did its best to include different types of women from different walks of life. i might be leery about its weird fascination with rich women and stuff but... it felt like it was written for me.

which is a very alien experience as a trans woman. literally sweet fuck all is ever written for me. even shows which ostensibly include trans women generally include them for shock value, to be sexualized, or generally exploit their presence as not something that is normal, but something that is other, just to varying degrees of bigotry.

comic books especially are bad about this. they’re bad about marketing towards women in general (despite, you know, women being showed to buy comic books if they’re written by someone who has met a woman before) and as a result the setting of a comic book serial has always been vaguely out of reach for me. i could never fully get into them because, even before i figured out i was trans, it all felt very... male-focused. female characters were rarely the viewpoint of the story or the focus, and when they were it was a genuine dice-roll if you would get a realistic depiction out of it.

not only that, but female side characters always ran the risk of being bizarrely sexualized or twisted into knots over male characters, usually the main. 

point is, supergirl didn’t feel like that. supergirl felt like a show written by someone who was marketing it towards a female audience and not in the misogynistic way sitcoms and shit market towards women with shallow approximations of abusive relationships played off as ‘quirky’ or ‘broody’.

even throughout all of its incredibly... interesting choices it still never felt like the show had suddenly become a show for guys. it was always grounded in feeling like it was written for women, regardless of its ups or downs, and that was very, very nice.

and now it’s going to be gone. i’m not... really attached to supergirl as a construct, as mentioned before, it’s more that i’ve attached myself to the idea of supergirl. the idea of a mid-budget superhero show marketed for women and not being weirdly exclusive about it. not just that, but it wasn’t a show featuring teenagers--it wasn’t about young girls, or coming-of-age, it was about women who lived and existed in a world and who occasionally had to fight aliens. it was nice, it wasn’t perfect, sometimes i put the speed on 2x to skip through some of it, but... it was there. it was an option. i could, after slogging through another release of a comic i had high hopes for but had long since abandoned them, gone to it and went ‘yeah, sure, things might suck on that end, but at least i have this’.

which i don’t anymore. i get that batwoman and legends will still be around, i do, but... neither of them felt, like, as resonant with me as supergirl did. neither of them focused on marginalized groups of people like supergirl did (with it’s aliens -> immigrant allegory) and frankly none of them had a trans character.

as much as i might not be 100% in the brainia camp, i can at least appreciate that the one trans character wasn’t left out of the romantic weirdness of cw shows, the constant rotating door of interpersonal drama. it was nice to see a trans woman on screen and not feel like a shoe is going to drop and i’m going to have to endure The Transphobia Episode, where the main character - not the trans one - comes in and stops the bad things from happening so as to be elevated into being more morally good than anyone else.

i never had to worry about nia nal being written... well weirdly. you know what i mean, right? when a show gets an lgbt character or a poc and there’s just something very subtly wrong about how they’re written vs your experiences? i get that experiences aren’t universal and vary wildly depending on where you live (me being in canada has separated me from the severity of transphobia in places like the us and uk) but even then you can just kinda tell that whoever wrote the character doesn’t... really understand them, either.

i never had to worry about alex being turned into a predator, and however much i might fucking hate them reusing the old weird fixation with lesbians hating the idea of kids, it... still wasn’t that horrifying. people split up for reasons surrounding kids all the time, i did. i have experiences that mirror that, though we split up more amicably than others.

the point is, supergirl always felt very safe. it always felt marketed at me, it always felt like it was meant for me to watch, and that wasn’t something i’d ever experienced as someone who deeply loves comic books. it has always been out of the range of my expectations to find something that resonates with me despite its plot, despite everything.

and now it’s going to go away.

and i’m upset about that, i guess.

because i’m not... entirely sure there’ll be another. i desperately want there to be, but you have to understand my expectations are absolutely rock bottom. supergirl is not the change in a stale river to me, it’s not the turning tide, it’s the outlier. it came from cw for gods’ sake, noted bury-your-gays enthusiasts. i went into it expecting exactly the same thing i expect out of every superhero franchise, marvel, dc or otherwise.

and it completely blew my expectations away. it made me feel like it was for me in a way not even some of the better written-by-women comics have, despite everything, which is why i stuck around even through the weird shit around lena/kara, even through all the posturing and alex/maggie’s breakup and mon-el and season 5 as a concept and, and, and...

now it’s going to be going away, and i’m not entirely sure how to handle that.

i know i can rewatch it, i know it’ll always be there, even if netflix takes it off. i know.

but it means someone won’t be writing a woman-focused superhero show anymore, and i’ll really miss that.

[pluckyredhead]

Daredevil 101: What Happened to Milla, Part 1

For the past while in Daredevil 101, Matt has been somewhat rockily married to a woman named Milla Donovan. Sharp-eyed readers may have noticed that Matt is no longer married in comics continuity. What happened?

*sigh* “To the Devil, His Due” and “Without Fear” happened, aka Daredevil v2 95-105 by Ed Brubaker and Michael Lark. Aka an absolutely interminable parade of pointless cruelty riddled with dangling plot threads and misogyny. Yes, the team that gave us the masterful “Devil in Cell Block D” has now gone off the rails so hard that Amtrak is still working on the repairs. (Sadly, their run never improves, so strap in, I guess.)

Now, Milla is not exactly my favorite character, but very few things in DD history make me madder than the way she was written off. It’s so clear that Brubaker wanted to fridge her but realized he couldn’t get away with a fifth dead Daredevil love interest, so he figured out a different “fate worse than death” (hoo boy we’ll have to unpack that in Part 2). No price is too high for a woman to pay if it means Matt Murdock suffers, amirite?

And with that tempting introduction (?), let’s get into it!

Content Warnings: Ableism, sexual assault and implied threats of sexual violence.

We begin with Melvin, who is in jail thanks to having attacked Matt back when he was blackmailed into doing so. Specifically, we begin with Melvin in a room with a bunch of dead bodies he swears up and down he isn’t responsible for.

Matt and Foggy and most especially Becky Blake believe him and take his case, but just a few days later it happens again - Melvin is found surrounded by dead bodies and claiming to have no memory of what happened but that he didn’t do it. The psych eval doesn’t go well, in that, well, he passes:

According to the doctor, this isn’t Melvin being taken over by his Gladiator personality or an actual second person stepping in - this is just Melvin himself killing people. Which for Melvin’s legal team (and friends) is the worst possible option, of course.

Meanwhile, Milla appears to have taken up therapy:

Aside from what this story does to Milla and Melvin, part of what makes it so bad is the structure. This was partially due to a couple of company-wide crossovers that we’ll see marching through the book in a little bit, but also just lots of things being set up and then dropped without going anywhere. Here we see Milla in therapy, which is never returned to or discussed. The sinister way this is framed makes it clear that the person she’s speaking to is the villain of the piece, but the fact that he met Milla at therapy is never revealed or mentioned at all. Later in the scene he says something about how he hasn’t told his wife that he’s in therapy but he should stop underestimating her, which is clearly meant to get under Milla’s skin in regards to her relationship with Matt, but that kind of subtle manipulation is too interesting for this story and leads absolutely nowhere. And of course we don’t get to actually see Milla talking to her therapist, which would require her to have an interior life.

Which means we have an entire scene that could have been replaced with a single panel of Milla bumping into someone on the street that would have had exactly the same effect on the plot. And the pacing problems only get worse from here, folks!

Anyway. The state decides to move Melvin, but he escapes his prison transport - and attacks Matt, who’s been keeping an ear on things:

Melvin kicks the crap out of Matt and escapes, but Matt realizes that there’s something wrong with Melvin - it may not be the Gladiator taking over, but this isn’t his friend, either.

The next day, Nelson and Murdock receive a surprise guest: Lily Lucca, who you may remember as she of the Karen-smelling perfume who aided and abetted in multiple murders and lured Matt into a confrontation with Vanessa Fisk:

As you’ll recall, the perfume Vanessa gave Lily to entrap Matt with makes her smell like every man’s fondest memory [INSERT GIANT EYEROLL HERE], which is why Foggy’s falling all over himself here. But now she has a problem: even though she’s not using the perfume anymore, she still smells like it, which means men are constantly creepily following her around, getting into fights over her, etc.

This is...sigh. There’s an aspect of “female character is punished for using her sexuality” here that makes me super uncomfortable. Certainly 90% of comic book villains have some kind of monkey’s paw in their backstory (“I tried to make a cool suit of armor and now I have robot tentacles!” “I tried to cryogenically freeze my dying wife and now I am really cold all the time!” etc.), but there’s a way in which it’s weaponized against certain types of female characters that’s deeply gendered and often kinda rape-y. (I got this vibe with Debbie and Micah Synn as well.) Lily wanted to control men through their desire to her? Well, now they might desire her so much they’ll assault her! That’ll show her! I guess. Ugh, it just grosses me out.

Anyway, Matt reluctantly agrees to help her, or more specifically have Dakota help her, since she won’t be affected by Lily’s scent the way he and Foggy will. Even with this caveat, when he meets Milla for dinner she does not like this:

I think we’re meant to be reading Milla as not being entirely rational about Lily because she’s so jealous of Karen’s memory and Lily reminds Matt of Karen, but she’s not wrong. I have no idea if we’re meant to read Matt as being sort of a douche in this scene but if my husband was like “Keep your voice down” and “Don’t be so hyperbolic” I would walk out of that fucking restaurant.

Or run, as the case may be:

Matt distracts Melvin so that Milla can get away (lotta Ms in this storyline), then somehow quick-changes to Daredevil for a fight. Melvin knocks him out and Matt wakes up handcuffed in the back of a police car:

The cops are arguing because it’s the middle of Civil War, which didn’t touch the Daredevil book very much but Matt was firmly on the anti-registration Team Cap side, unsurprisingly. As an unregistered superhero, just being out in a mask made him a criminal. (They don’t do anything with the fact that his secret identity was basically an open book at this point, which would have been interesting.)

Anyway, The Mysterious Voice Speaking On A Frequency Only Matt Can Hear gleefully tells him that he left his wallet at the restaurant, which has his home address, which means Melvin knows where to find Milla. Of course, Melvin was one of Matt’s bodyguards when his identity was first exposed and definitely already knew where he lived, but whatever.

Milla is, of course, wandering around the apartment in nothing but a bra and panties when Melvin shows up, because Daredevil artists apparently love putting her in her underwear to terrorize her and this is the last chance they’ll have to do it.

Melvin takes Milla up to the roof to wait for Matt. I’m including this exchange, where Milla tries to talk him down by appealing to his better nature, because it’s basically her last moment as herself. Reminding others of their better angels has always been one of her strengths, and she deserves to have that highlighted before...everything else.

Matt shows up. Melvin throws Milla off the roof:

Matt miraculously saves her and returns to fight Melvin, but Melvin has pretty much given up at this point and it’s all over but the crying. He’s bundled off to maximum security, and that’s...well, that’s the end of Melvin. This storyline came out in 2007, and this sweet, interesting character who has been around since the Silver Age has been unusable ever since. So thanks for that, Brubaker.

Matt’s furious, and determined to figure out who did this to Melvin:

“What did your sensei say about fighting angry?” always makes me laugh. Also, why would you ever suggest Matt follow Stick’s advice, Foggy, honestly.

(Foggy is A+++++ in this storyline and it makes me mad that I can’t even enjoy it because he’s just frantically trying to salvage a steaming pile of shit the whole time. Also given the overall ableism in this story I’m a little :/ that he basically takes over being the functional adult like Matt’s incapable of it.)

Matt runs into another dropped plot thread here because he gets on the trail of a street drug that makes people angry, which, like, how would Melvin have even gotten that in prison anyway, especially nonconsensually? Also, every other depiction of this drug shows it putting the user into a senseless rage, but Melvin sure was able to find his old lair, put on his Daredevil costume, track down Matt, and kidnap his wife when the plot required him to. How very Guardian Devil.

Anyway, Matt starts tracking the drug to its source. Meanwhile, Milla shows up at N&M:

Yeah, from here on out Milla is all tears and hysteria. Sigh.

Foggy decides to take her home, and Lily tags along, even though Foggy thinks that’s a REALLY REALLY bad idea because a) she's upsetting Milla, b) she fucks with Foggy’s head, and c) every dude in the subway is going to be all over her. But Lily insists, because she’s...manipulative? Genuinely feeling guilty and choosing the absolute worst way to fix that? Flimsy plot reasons? Let’s go with flimsy plot reasons.

While waiting for the train, Milla pretty much loses her shit at Lily, and also the world in general:

“I don’t know what I’ve done to you” is pretty rich, Lily. YOU LURED HER HUSBAND ON A MURDER CHASE ACROSS EUROPE.

Meanwhile, Dakota is still trying to figure out where Vanessa got Lily’s original perfume from - and Matt has followed the drug trail back to the Enforcers, a bunch of goofy-ass Silver Age villains we haven’t seen in decades. (They are specifically named the Ox, Fancy Dan, and Montana. They are ridiculous.) They clobber him and take him to their leader:

LARRY CRANSTON. MISTER FEAR. He made the perfume. He drove Melvin insane. And he’s the reason behind what happens next:

Lily lives. The random bystander does not. And when Matt, having been literally thrown out of the window and into the garbage by Mister Fear, returns home, Foggy is waiting for him:

Next Time: Milla is taken into custody, and Matt searches for a cure.

[phobiadeficient]

hey! uh could you do another demosniperscout? Bc holy shit that last one was 👌👌👌👌 thanks i love your writing

aye aye captain

-

Sniper knew that out of their ragtag little trio, he tended to be the one who seemed… reluctant. 

Scout and Demo did a lot of hanging out on their own time, because Scout was pretty much always looking to hang out with another person. They went to the bar a good bit, Scout for the music and ambience, Demo because he was buddies with the bartender. They spent far more time together than he did with either of them.

Sometimes he would go sit with Demo while the man was working on something. Not talking, no real conversation, just… sharing a space. And sometimes Scout would come by and ramble at him while he was doing something, and that was nice too.

And it wasn’t that he was jealous of them and how much they got along. It was that he felt guilty that he wasn’t a better partner to them.

Sometimes it was good. Sometimes they all three were together and the push and pull of conversation was in a rhythm that had them staying up late into the night because they didn’t want to break it. Sometimes he almost didn’t ever want to go back to his camper out so far away from everyone.

Other times, he started to feel pretty sure that he wasn’t meant to be around other people period, let alone dating two of the better people he’d ever met. They were far too good for him.

He tried to make up for it. Paid for drinks when they all went out together, brought food when he stopped by the base to visit with them.

And in bed, he tended to pick up the majority of the work. The more awkward positions, the literal and figurative heavy lifting. Every free hand was used to try and build them up higher, and if his mouth was free it was spilling praise across the both of them or drawing pleasure out of them in whatever way possible.

They were the ones working so hard to include him all the time. The least he could do was make it up to them.

Then a shift in the paradigm.

Sitting at the edge of Demo’s bed, Scout having decided to sit right down in his lap and take a lend of his mouth. And he managed to blindly sit his bottle of beer down somewhere safe, and he heard Demo shifting, and assumed it would be like that usually happened, Scout between the two of them, making all sorts of lovely noises as they drew him up and up and up.

But then Demo was behind him instead, big hands moving over his shoulders in a steady pressure. Sniper disconnected he and Scout’s lips, trying to get a look behind him. He couldn’t quite manage it. “What’re you up to, Tavish?” he asked, not upset so much as confused.

Demo hummed, lying a kiss at the back of his neck. “Just enjoyin’ the view is all,” he said casually, and Sniper glanced back at Scout just in time to catch the very tail end of some kind of communication between the two of them, something that resulted in Scout smirking at him. “Carry on, don’t mind me.”

Sniper was a little hesitant, a little wary, but he obliged, leaning back forward to kiss Scout again, who returned it with enthusiasm, arms wrapping up over his shoulders.

He felt Scout smiling against him, and then there was a hand at his own belt. He paid attention to it, still confused, and then his belt was being slid from its place and there was a hand toying with the clasp of his pants, its partner sliding down beneath him to—

He gave a startled moan, parting again as Demo had a hearty grope of him, and he shivered bodily. “What’re you two up to?” he finally asked outright, a little embarrassed of the waver in his voice that came with Scout latching onto a sensitive point just below his jaw.

“Just appreciating our boyfriend is all,” Demo hummed, and when had Scout started unbuttoning his shirt?

“Yeah. Relax, Legs, you’re gonna love it. Just chill out,” Scout agreed, already very satisfied with himself judging by the grin on his face.

“Love what exactly?” he couldn’t help but ask, attention torn between his pants being opened, his shirt being unbuttoned, lips under his jaw and against the back of his head.

“Look, Mundy, we hardly ever get you here all to ourselves, can’t you just let us pamper you a bit?” Demo asked, stern against his hairline.

Sniper hesitated again. “I suppose,” he said slowly, and then his shirt was being pushed down off his shoulders, Scout starting to kiss all sorts of lovely patterns into his collarbone as he tried to work it off. “What about you two?”

“Okay, babe, have you maybe thought that the two of us might think it would be really nice to just kinda love all over a really hot guy for a little while?” Scout asked impatiently, finally managing to get Sniper’s left arm out of the sleeve.

“Good luck finding one,” Sniper joked.

In an instant, zero mouths on him as instead the two of them started to protest that particular sentiment.

“Oh my god, shut up man, you’re a total fuckin’ catch and you know it, are you serious?”

“Love, if you keep talkin’ that way about my boyfriend we’re gonna have to brawl. Those are fightin’ words from anyone else.”

“Like seriously have you seen you? You’re a total stud, it’s ridiculous.”

“A sight for sore eye. A particularly tall drink of water.”

“Alright, alright,” Sniper cut in, surely scarlet. “Fine. Go ahead.”

“Okay, here’s what we were thinkin’,” Scout finally said, looking him over with a gaze both appreciative and hungry. “Been a minute since you bottomed. And you’re all about that.”

He flushed even further. Admittedly, he was right. He tended to be on top mostly because Scout enjoyed it so much, other times letting Demo take over that role, but it was rare for him to be on the bottom, and it didn’t take much for it to become clear that he missed it. It was almost embarrassing.

“So Demo does that,” Scout continued. A squeeze of confirmation from Demo. “Then while he does that, I suck you off.”

Sniper shifted. All of that sounded very nice. “And what do you get out of this?” he had to ask, though.

“Uh, I get to suck you off? And I love doin’ that?” Scout said, like it was obvious. “I’m an expert too, it’ll be real nice watching you fall apart like that.”

He had a point there. Scout was an absolute master at giving head. To the point where it wasn’t even something they could joke about, he was genuinely just that good.

“Alright,” he finally said, even if he did feel a bit guilty still.

Silence for a second. “So get your fuckin’ pants off,” Scout prompted, impatient as always, practically bouncing with excitement. “C’mon, let’s do this.”

Demo laughed, and it gave Sniper enough comfort to do as asked, prompting Scout to sit up on his knees to free his legs so he could shuffle his pants the rest of the way off.

“How come neither of you ever wear underwear?” Scout asked, helping shuck Sniper out of his undershirt.

“Convenience,” Demo and Sniper chimed simultaneously.

“You’re animals,” Scout deadpanned, moving back enough to let Sniper and Demo reposition. Sniper shifted so he was sat on Demo’s thighs, and was distantly surprised to find that Demo’s thighs were bare. Guess he was set, then. “Need me for anything?”

“Nah, you do what you’d like,” Demo shrugged, and Sniper heard the click of the bottle of slick opening behind him. “Just don’t finish him off, awright?”

“Fair,” Scout shrugged, and hooked an arm over Sniper’s shoulders to draw him into a kiss again.

Sniper was glad for it, because it muffled the little noise he made when warm, slick fingers slid down over him.

Demo always managed to make prep part of foreplay, hitting that point just between being a tease and being efficient, between taking his time and making his partner groan. He had broad fingers, and it had Sniper panting within moments of adjusting to a second finger, clutching Scout’s hips hard to keep from reaching down to get a hand on himself. Scout grinned at the noises that started spilling out from between his lips, pulling back a little to listen to them.

“There’s a lad,” Demo hummed against his shoulder, one strong arm around his waist to hold him still as the other teased him open.

“You can… go faster than that,” Sniper managed, voice weak.

Demo hummed again and did so, motions speeding up just a tick. Sniper forced himself to breathe deeply, clenching his jaw a little bit at the pleasure and, admittedly, mild discomfort. Scout kissed him again to coax him into relaxing, and it worked, even if he did feel embarrassed about the noises that followed.

Scout’s noises were always gorgeous, moaning and gasping unashamed, only tempered if there was a risk of noise complaints and otherwise clear as a bell. And Demo always sounded incredible too, low and sexy, murmuring smooth like honey and soothing over rough edges, rumbling through his partners and leaving shivers like aftershocks.

Sniper wasn’t much a fan of his own noises. Choked-off groans, little noises on the tail end of his panting, occasional bouts of filth just to get the two of them to shiver. He tried his best to stifle them so he could instead listen to the other two. But on the rare occasions when he was the one being worked open, he got loud. Hoarse moans, voice ragged, it was always so embarrassing, even if Demo and Scout both insisted that they liked it, encouraged it even.

He tried to stifle himself on Scout’s shoulder. Scout allowed it, fingers tracing idly over some of his scars by muscle memory.

Beyond the pleasure thrumming through him, he could vaguely hear Demo and Scout speaking to each other. He tried to tune in, but couldn’t make anything out in particular over his own panting. God, he could already feel himself drifting, inhibitions fading into background noise.

Then those fingers left him, and alertness filtered back.

“Gonna start in now, awright, Mundy?” Demo prompted, even as Scout got up off of Sniper’s lap. Sniper leaned forward enough to plant a parting kiss on his jugular, and he was grinning when a Sniper caught sight of him.

“Yeah,” Sniper agreed, and shifted up a bit. “How’d you want me?”

They settled into their new position, Demo sitting at the edge of the bed with his legs a bit apart, Sniper knelt on his lap facing outward, his own legs on the outside of Demo’s. He felt extremely exposed for a few moments until he realized that this was something they subjected Scout to more often than not, and he promptly calmed down, even if he did feel the absurd urge to cover up.

Then Scout was on the ground, tossing a pillow to the floor for his knees, settling between Demo’s legs and watching them with a hungry stare.

“Let me do the work here, love,” Demo soothed, a hand on Sniper’s flank and the other on himself, guiding Sniper into sinking down. When he was far enough down, Demo moved both hands to his waist, helping support his weight as he slowly took him in.

Shaky breathing. Occasional pangs of discomfort, overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness and the pleasure that the concept poured into him.

“Easy, Mundy,” Demo prompted, and Sniper realized he’d been pushing back against Demo’s hands, and eased up. “There you go. Nice and slow. Gorgeous.”

“Fuck, you look good,” Scout marveled, leaning his cheek on his hand and watching them both.

Sniper managed to get enough air in to speak as he finally sunk down that last inch, allowed to rest and collect himself for a few moments. “Not sure I’m gonna last long with both of you,” he warned, voice weak. Already he felt sweat beading all across his face and down his back.

“We’ll go easy on you,” Scout said, eyeing where Sniper was practically twitching with need.

“Give it a moment, Scoot,” Demo said, and Scout nodded, and Demo’s hips rolled once very lightly in warning before they were in motion.

Adjusting, minute shifting, adjusting. Sniper felt his chest practically heaving, anticipation coiled tight. Then he barked out a sound of pleasure as Demo hit just the right angle, and he felt a beardy chuckle against his shoulder, and Demo shifted to hold tight onto his thighs, and then they really got going.

It took maybe five seconds for Sniper’s usually iron-clad self control to splinter, and he was gasping on every ingress, groaning openly as Demo bodily moved him, a lift and tug back down with each roll of his hips. He shifted to follow the rhythm, to speed them up, but Demo didn’t allow it, and he was left bobbing half-desperately, eyes fluttering shut and eyebrows crooking up in the middle.

“Fuck,” Scout breathed below them, and Sniper forced his eyes back open, forced himself to look down and forward, even as his face flushed. Scout had his own pants open, and was tugging at himself in steady motions, eyes hungry.

“Feckin’ gorgeous,” Demo agreed, breathed against his back and hot against the sweat there, and Sniper could only shudder, his whole body feeling trembly and electric, like he’d put his skin on crooked.

Demo continued to tease him, to hold him just there in the surge of pleasure but not allowing it to crest. Sniper reached for himself, but Scout caught his hands, holding them off and making him writhe a little in desperation.

“Let me,” Scout all but demanded, and then there was a hand on his dick, and then there was a mouth on his dick.

Sniper’s noises rose in volume almost instantly. This setup was truly devilish—Demo bounced him on his lap, and Scout didn’t even need to bob his head, staying in place and letting them do the work for him, putting his tongue and lips to use with very little effort needed on his part.

Suddenly the pace rocketed from not enough to far too much, overwhelming and melting him from the inside. He called out a noise of utter desperation with each hard thrust into him, growing more undone by the moment. He pleadingly tried to warn them how close he was, head lolling and thighs trembling, and they only urged him on harder.

He came hard, sure he was about to pull a muscle with how hard they clenched, almost to the point of pain. Twin groans from Demo and Scout, Demo pressing kisses into his shoulders and Scout swallowing eagerly as Sniper spilled into his mouth.

A second or two of breath, then Demo’s hands shifted, and Sniper rushed to collect himself. “No, finish off,” he urged, voice even more hoarse and rough than usual. He could feel that Demo was throbbing, surely close to the edge.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” Demo replied.

“Please, Tavish,” he practically begged, too far gone to feel ashamed, and that was all it took before Demo rolled back into motion, a tick faster than before.

“Jesus,” Scout breathed, and Sniper looked down and saw that Scout was pumping almost desperately at himself as he watched the show, breath fast. “You look so fuckin’ good, Snipes.”

Sniper smiled, groaning as Demo finally crested the edge, slamming in a final two times and spilling with his own husky sound. That pushed Scout over the edge, and he spilled into his own fist, eyes falling shut and cheek pressing into Sniper’s knee.

They were kissing at him, Demo on his neck and Scout on his thigh. And it felt nice and all, but all at once Demo was starting to feel like too much in him, and he shifted as if to lift himself. Demo assisted, sliding him up carefully until he was freed, sitting him back down on Demo’s lap again.

“Made a right mess of you,” Demo observed. “Look like we just fished you out of a pond, lad.”

“Hit by a truck,” Scout agreed.

“Feels like it,” Sniper agreed weakly, leaning back into Demo’s chest and very much appreciating how he was the midpoint between soft and solid. More than usual, even. “In a good way.”

“You’ve gotta let us do that more,” Scout urged.

“Only if you two are willing to clean up the mess afterwards,” Sniper half-laughed. “I’m bloody exhausted.”

“Poor thing,” Demo murmured, lying a kiss on the side of his head sympathetically. “Care to take a bit of a kip before we clean up?”

Sniper hummed in the affirmative, pretty sure he couldn’t stand up just then, let alone be in the shower for however long.

They ended up lying together, Sniper getting to be in the middle for once. Scout tucked himself under Sniper’s chin and tangled their legs together idly, and Demo was at his back again, the warm weight of his arm immensely comforting.

“But seriously,” Scout said after about three minutes of silence, Sniper shaken back awake by it. “Can we do that again?”

Sniper considered it. Demo’s thumb drew a circle into his skin. “Yeah, awright,” he finally said.

“Hell yeah,” Scout murmured, and Demo chuckled, and Sniper smiled.

[shittyfandomimagines]

Ew! Cooties!

Word count: 1,643

This was wrote so quickly that it’s probably awful

GIF creds to owner

Dating Shawn Mendes was one of the most amazing things that could ever happen to me, well besides my baby girl. She is always the number one to me.

The only problem with dating Shawn is literally nothing, he’s literally the sweetest man ever, but the problem is me. We had plenty of dates and we talked constantly, but he didn’t know about Addy, I didn’t want him to leave just yet. Most guys leave the second I tell them I have a daughter because they’re not ready for that type of commitment. Shawn makes me feel different than the guys I tried to date before, there’s just something about him.

Then the other problems occurred, I never had time for him. He constantly told me that he misses me and that he wishes we can hang out, but I always have Addy. Most of the times we went out I had a babysitter, but she moved to Nevada a few months ago.

“Mommy, I want chicken nuggets!” Addy’s tiny voice yelled and I took a deep breath in. “I know sweetheart, but we don’t have chicken nuggets here. We can have spaghetti, that’s your second favorite thing.” I tried to remain calm, she’s been fussy all afternoon.

“No, I want chicken nuggets.” She stomps her foot and I turn around quickly. “Addy Marie, you’re going to lose that attitude, you will not get chicken nuggets tonight. You can go play in the living room as I cook spaghetti.”

I didn’t mean to be so harsh, the aggravation from Shawn’s attitude earlier and now hers, I snapped. It made my heart hurt to see her little lips wobbling after I yelled at her. She ran off to the living room and I sighed loudly.

I turned on the water for the noodles and then pulled out the sauce from the cabinet. Shawn crossed my mind, as he has been recently, but this time it made me sad. He was annoyed at the fact that I’ve been blowing him off and hardly making time for him. We’ve only been a thing for a few months and I’m already ruining it. It’s probably best to just cut the cord now.

Once the water boiled, I put the noodles in and decided to put the sauce in the pan on low.

I went into the living room to sit down beside Addy. She still had the saddest look on her face and it broke my heart. “Addy, I’m sorry for being mean to you. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, but you did have an attitude with mommy.” I apologized softly and she looked up at me.

“I’m sorry too, mommy.” She leaped in my arms and my heart felt so full, I held her tightly in my arms. “So, who is at your tea party tonight?” I ask as I examined the area she had set up.

“Mr. Bear, Mrs. Squiggles, Mrs. Pookie, and Mr. Fudge.” She pointed them all out, but I knew their names anyways. “Well, in about 10 minutes they can all join us for spaghetti at the big kid's table.” I kissed her forehead and stood up.

Just as I made it in the kitchen, there was a loud knock at the door. I sighed deeply and made it to the door, opening it quickly. My eyes widened to see Shawn standing there with flowers in his hand. I felt my stomach hit the floor, I was not expecting this. He handed me the flowers slowly.

“Hey,” he starts off boldly then looks behind me and obviously sees Addy, “oh you’re babysitting.” He seemed disappointed that someone else was here. “Actually, that’s my daughter Addy.” I ripped the bandaid right off, no use in waiting.

He stayed quiet for a second and I looked back at my daughter, she seemed just as confused. “Anyways, this is usually the part where you run off. Thanks for the flowers!” I tried to stay calm and then started to close the door, but his foot stopped me.

“Woah, I’m just surprised. I didn’t plan on running.” He states and I felt my heart rate pick up. “Wait, really?” I ask dumbfounded, he nods slowly. “Hey pretty girl, you look just like your mommy.” He pushed past me and sat down beside Addy.

She seemed a little shy, but once he picked up a teacup and started to fake drink out of it, she was giggling loudly. “Stop! You’re drinking Mr. Fudge's tea!” She shouts and gives him an extra teacup. “My apologies, this tea tasted too good to pass up.” He fake sipped out of his new cup.

I was in shock as I closed the door, my heart felt so full. “Baby, this is Shawn,” I tell Addy as I stood over them. She nodded and continued to fill up more tea. “I need to finish dinner, do you mind if I leave you guys for a second?” I ask Shawn and he nods enthusiastically.

I turn off the noodles and start to strain them, I poured the sauce on top of the noodles and stirred them together. When I put it on the table, I felt a hand grab my waist. “Hey, we should talk.” Shawn’s voice spoke in my ear, I turned around in his arms.

“Yeah, we should.” I felt like shit again, I knew where this was headed.

“You never told me about her, why?” He didn’t seem upset, yet.

“Most guys drop me when I say I have a kid. I was going to tell you on our second date and then you took me to the art museum that I accidentally rambled about on our first date and it took me by surprise that someone actually listened. Then time went on and you just seemed perfect, but I should have told you. I’m not ashamed of my daughter nor am I ashamed to be a single mom, I just wanted to feel like a 23-year-old for once. To date and have fun, but then my babysitter moved and that’s why I didn’t have time for you, so I understand if you want to go, I’m sorry for the secrecy.” I started to babble endlessly.

He didn’t say anything but he gave me his infamous smile, he shook his head slightly. He grabbed my face and pushed his lips into mine, his lips were so soft and it made me feel weak.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but it’s my turn.” He whispered as he pulled back, I nodded along.

“You’re right that you have no reason to be ashamed, Addy is absolutely adorable and you obviously make an amazing mom. I understand that most guys don’t want this type of responsibility but I like you a lot. Obviously, I’m not a father figure just yet, but I’m not going anywhere. I like you and you’re the first woman in the past few years who can genuinely make me happy just by being there. So, I’m staying in your life until you ask me to leave.”

I felt my tears surface and I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, my heart was so full. “Thank you so much!” I was kissing his cheek repeatedly and he was a giggling mess. “No need to thank me, plus I’m starving and the food smells amazing.” He pulls back and walks into the living room, I was confused as to why since the food was right there.

Then he came back with Addy in his arms, they were laughing about something and my chest felt so light. She wanted to sit by him and they hardly paid any attention to me as I sat there, but that was okay with me. It felt like the first time in forever that I had someone.

“Addy, since you’re done with supper can you go change into your pajamas?” I ask and she nods quickly, jumping out of her chair. I started to pick up everyone’s dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “She’s adorable, y/n. She’s amazing just like her mom.” He was helping me put the dishes up. “Thank you, she’s my pride and joy.” I honestly stated and he grinned.

He walked around and pushed me against the counter. He combed pieces of hair behind my ears, staring at me with a lopsided grin.

“What?” I ask and he just shakes his head. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this complete in the first 3 months of dating someone.” He said quietly and I smiled widely. “Well, you’re not the only one.” I grinned back and he kissed my forehead softly.

“Can I stop by tomorrow?” He asks and I nod. “You can stop by whenever you want,” I spoke softly and he nods. He kissed my lips gently, his cold hands were cupping my cheeks. I felt so complete and he started to smile in the midst of it.

“Ew! Cooties!” We heard Addy yell and we both laughed. He detached from me and went chasing after Addy. He started to kiss her cheeks and lifted her above his head. “I’m going to put her to bed, then we can watch a movie or something.” He smiled at me and my heart was racing. “You don’t have to put her to bed, I’m her mom.” I start to walk forward and he shakes his head. “Mommy, I want him to read me a story!” She yells and I sigh contently. “Okay, just one book though!” I knew how she was about stories.

I give Shawn one last smile before sitting on the couch. I didn’t know I could ever feel this happy, I thought it reached its peak when Addy was born but with the two of them in my life now, I am beyond happy.

lowkey want to make a part 2 to this but like a few months down the line.

[jiwonsssi]

- differences, pt. 2

I hate descriptions. Just read.

characters: Eun Jiwon/'you'

warnings: swearing

A/U: i tried into drama making but since i hate drama it turned out kinda cringey so yeah enjoy and OH its long

And the next week was pretty much normal. Practices, meet ups with friends, helping your mother on her work and other typical stuff for you. You even managed to forget what happened with Jiwon earlier, because there were no time to think about it; too much is happening, and, as always, it does make you feel overwhelmed. And of course there was someone who was fascinated with the idea on how to make you life worse. Sungha didn't even try, you don't know if it was his intention; but God was he successful.

He got suddenly fucking annoying; to the point you didn't even want to see him. He asked annoying question, joked annoying jokes, touched you so annoyingly that you flinched from him everytime. Perhaps, he didn't do anything wrong (as he, himself, claims) and to be honest you are not that angry with his actions on that damned night, but.. something is wrong. You can only feel it, it's impossible to describe it or put it in words; and that's, actually, one of the main problems - you have no idea what to tell him.

And he continues to ask. Annoyingly.

You read and heard somewhere that a simple gesture of a person could easily turn you away from her or him. Apparently, that happened.

And Jiwon. Somehow you see him tragically different now. This week made you analyze so many things about him; you spent hella time together, it wasn't that hard anyway. It's not like you are ready to jump on him screaming 'oppa take me' or something. Absolutely fucking not. Yet.

Anyway, among everything, you drastically wanted to be closer to him. Friendship seems like out of this world idea, but just talking to him feels better than with anyone else. Except, maybe, your mother. But perhaps it's because they are around the same age? We (you and your common sense) choose to ignore that fact.

The other thing you want to ignore is that you are very much disappointed in the fact that he stopped being late. Just a tiny part of you were hoping for another 15 minutes spent together in total comfort of the night drive.

And today was not different; Eun Jiwon was tolerably late and all the dancers waited for him patiently.

- We need to talk, - Sungha sits down beside you and you fight an urge to roll your eyes.

- Right now? - you are annoyed without any apparent reason. It's not right. You really want to talk; you know it's a need. But at the same time it feels so impossible; you know that there would be a fight. You just want to postpone it for as long as possible.

- Yes, because any other time you run from me like crazy, - he has a point.

- I'm not, - we will not accept it anyway.

- You are! But.. not a point. What the fuck is happening? Are you still mad at me? For just one shitty night? You made it safe! - he's not screaming, more like loudly whispering but you still see people watching you. So you stand up, taking his hand and shove him out of the room, standing in front of him with your arms crossed on your chest.

Rage starts to build up unexpectedly fast and you have no idea how to stop it. You don't want to, to be honest.

- Yeah, I hope you had great time as well.

- I promised them! What could I say? 'Sorry, I need to abandon something that has been planned weeks ago'? - he has a point, he really does. Everytime. But.. you just can't think straight. Whatever he says, you would probably still blame him.

- It would have literally took you about 20 minutes. But no, you didn't even think about it; the idea that your friends can spend 30 minutes without you didn't cross your mind. But the idea of abandoning me in the middle of night - on top of all, - you articulate dramatically at this point, but who cares anyway.

- Oh, now we are playing that 'could have been done' game? C'mon, quit it, I care about you and you know it, - did it make you more angry? Because it did.

- You? Care? My ass, how many times you dropped me over some shit? Buying me stuff to make it seems like an apology is not caring about me, it's bullshit, - you put his hands that he already had on your waist down, stepping back a little.

- Uhm, it's not like I'm the one who accepts them, - it's a war declaration.

You know he is right. You know. But at the same time, who said you should always think with you brain, not, for example, with ass? It will sound stupid, but your heart already gave up on him (if it even was considering him in the first place), your head's ideas don't really suit you and other parts of you just really want to punch him.

- Oh you know what? It's better to receive at least something from you, because otherwise I might stuck with only "amazing" conversations and even worse sex. I'm not your parent to teach you how to behave when you are guilty and if you want to shower me with gifts when you can simply apologize, I'm not here to complain, - aww, who's that angry little boy? He furrows his brows, breathing heavily and you shrug your shoulders, smiling the most annoying smile you can manage.

Everyone think that you are with him because of money, so why not play along?

- Fuck that, - Sungha goes straight back to the practice room again and you feel air in your lungs hurting. If that's even possible. You have chosen him for a reason and the reason is absolutely not wealth. And now.. it's kinda weird to be sad over something that you, yourself, ruined. You did ruin it, right? And over some, indeed, tiny fucking mistake.

You will not blame yourself for this, but maybe you are allowed to be a little upset. Break ups happen and.. it's upsetting. And when the adrenaline in your veins finally calms down, you inhale deeply, trying to calm that tiny crybaby in you down.

The thing is, you absolutely can't handle it right now. Just not in the middle of this mess with everyday practices and hella tone of work in general. You want peace and comfort, not all those nerves.

It's absolutely time to get wasted. And you're have absolutely no time for that.

Coming back in, you feel particularly everyone in this room watching you and it's so fucking annoying again. Why can't they just mind their own business? Is it that hard?

But most probably the biggest problem is that right after you, a mere seconds later, Jiwon comes in and you can swear he heard everything. Everything. You groan and stomp your feet, screaming at how life hates you. Internally.

You meet his eyes once, when Jiwon greets everyone and he just smiles, nodding his head a little. Maybe he will not think of you as someone who sleeps with men for money.

Just a tiny, tiny, tiny possibility. A girl can dream, right?

Hope dies last. All that shit.

It's hard to concentrate when all you can think about is your now totally fucked up relationships; it's impossible to pretend that you don't care. You do. And not because you are scared of losing him (somehow that is the last thing you afraid of), but to break up on this conditions. You truly believe that everything can be solved through conversation (even though you are the one who became angry but does it really matter?); you won't beg him to start over, because you simply don't want to. But breaking up without hating each other sounds better than what you have now.

The practice starts and you do everything automatically. Absolutely on autopilot.

- Hey, are you with us? I'm talking to you, - of course it's time to miss main choreographer speaking directly to you, right in front of your face. What a perfect day!

- Sorry, I.. sorry, - the music is already silent and everyone are out. For a break, probably. You feel like you are on crack or something, because you totally forgot what was happening around. And how much time passed by.

- Nevermind. What I wanted to say is that you are to dance with Eun Jiwon. I hope you remember choreography for 'Tipsy', aren't you? - you badly want to close your eyes, breath and whisper 'what the fuck' but you just nod silently, then shake your head.

- But I was dancing with Sungha as backdancer, so I..

- Not anymore. I don't know what is happening between you two but this is the last time I agree on changing partners in the last moment. Understood? - again, the exact same wish. What the fuck is going on? It feels like you fell asleep in one reality and woke in another.

- Yeah. But I..

- That's it, go and grab some coffee, I don't know, you lookin awful, - she smiles in the end so you don't feel offended, but she's totally right. Nodding, you turn around to leave. Coffee. Great idea. Would be even better with whiskey.

Unsuccessfuly trying to persuade coffee machine to not to add 5 portions of sugar, you also trying your very best to persuade yourself to stop fucking whining.

- Yes, bad terms. Yes, I look like a bitch now. Yes, he's going to shit on me everywhere. Yes, probably I will lose some people. Yes, I said awful things, - talking to yourself in public place is not a great idea but who cares, - But do I need those people? And sex was really not that great.. Fuck you!

You tap with a loud sound on a coffee machine who proudly presents you extra sweet coffee. Feeling your lower lip tremble out of pure rage, you shove coffee in sink and sigh slowly.

- Please, just once, sweetie, let's do it, huh? Just for me, c'mon, - now you try to persuade the machine nicely. It works with you laptop every time, so why not?

But yeah, life is a shit and that's exactly why you hear a loud giggle from behind and.. we're not in fanfiction. It can't be him. Right?

- After talking to yourself you started to chat with coffee machine. I genuinely want to know, are you okay? - it's absolutely not the right time for Jiwon to show up out of nowhere. The awful timing. Closing your eyes, you force yourself to smile and turn around, facing him.

- Yeah, just.. it's always nice to chat with someone smart, - he smiles again, nodding and comes closer.

- That's why you were talking to coffee machine? - you look at him, standing right beside you with his kind mocking face and he smirks, celebrating his win. Hell no.

- That's why I will not talk to you, - his face changes in seconds and he's now cutely mad. You could never count him as scary old sunbae, because it's so light around him. You can't be this free with the most of the men around there because every one of them don't know how to handle pure jokes. Jiwon does everything perfectly.

- Okay then. I'll drink that tasty fresh black strong coffee with no sugar from cafe nearby all by myself, - you don't realize that he's holding two cups and you honestly forgot how to say 'thank you'. He turns around very slowly, looking you in the eyes all the way and you put on your most exaggerated charming smile.

- Oh my God, I'm so sorry, oppa, you are the smartest that I have ever met! - you would hang on his arm or something but apart him being very open and comfortable with you, it's still obvious that he's much older. Literally twice your age. That would be crossing the lines.

Jiwon pretends to think for a moment and you smile as innocent as possible and he suddenly nods, with the same exaggerated satisfaction, passing you the hot cup.

- I saw you spacing out, thought coffee will help. Must be difficult these days for you? - he just stands here, leaning with one hand on a table and he looks.. stunning. His style is perfect without trying and you can swear the color black belongs to him. And you just broke up with the boyfriend. Stop. But maybe it's his care that looks stunning, huh. Sounds lame, but.. unless?

- Yeah, I just.. - actually you have zero fucking idea on how to answer his question. He wouldn't be asking if he wasn't interested in what you are going to say. Yet you also had no intentions on showering him with your problems so you look at him, trying not to look desperate and shake your shoulders, - You heard everything, right?

He nods and you sip coffee, trying to not to burn your lips.

- I did, sorry, - he places his cup onto the table, putting both of hands in the pockets of his joggers, - You broke his self esteem, not his heart. So don't worry about sounding like a bitch.

He's actually very right. But there is something that will eat you anyway. Nice, though, that he's trying to help you. Hella weird.

- But it will eat me a couple of months anyway, - you continue to drink your coffee, staring at the material of his black tshirt, not seeing anything anyway when he speaks again.

- Your words about sex will eat him at least a couple of years. So don't worry, you won this one, - and you choke on your coffee, spitting it everywhere, trying to laugh and feel ashamed at the same time. Jiwon wipes brown drops from his upper arm that happened to be on the way of your hysteria, laughing not so loud but any way very pleasing. No need to be ashamed, apparently.

It wasn't funny. It was just so weird to hear it from him.

- I won't ever again buy you drinks, - he's laughing, hanging you tissues and taking the cup out of your hands, throwing it into the trash, - C'mon. Break must be over by now.

And he's so light, just like that. Jiwon doesn't make you talk about it further, doesn't try to get into your head with advices; he said what he wanted to say and listened to you for as much as you needed.

Does being intelligent comes with age?

You wipe your mouth, making your way after him when you get this feeling again; why does your whole life feels like a fanfiction? Of course Sungha needs to stand in the dark corner near vending machine like a fucking anime antihero.

You couldn't see him earlier, but.. Jiwon did. You look at his back, being not just surprised, but absolutely fucking stumbled. Why? He didn't do anything extra, but he could have been silent about such an intimate detail, as sex. But he wasn't. He deadass joked about it. And it led you to one thought: was he angry at him?

No way. Probably.

After looking at him for a moment, it feels like all that joy and relaxation you got from talking to Jiwon disappears in mere seconds. You feel so pressured again. You fucked it up. Again.

Sungha follows you and you feel his eyes imprinting 'you will regret this' on the back of your neck; you literally can feel it. It's funny how you have been knowing every bad thing about him and his friends and still decided to say 'yes' to this relationships. It started as a mess, and it will end the same.

Position "I will make him better" was never intended to work anyway.

Jiwon holds a door for you and you enter practice room, slightly nodding to him as 'thank you'. Even though you are going to dance so close to him; so close to the point you never knew you wanted to, you had no intention to continue this rehearsal. Not even the slightest.

And when the choreographer was talking to Jiwon about changing partners and he was actually very surprised or even when the music started to play, you had absolutely no emotions on your face. And so the troubles begin.

Of course, that made choreographer perofm a very nice thing called 'I will fucking end you if you continue to ruin my pattern' and it made you even more irritated and you forgot how many times you clumsy bumped into Eun Jiwon's limbs with yours. He helped you. A lot. Messing it up himself, sometimes. Sometimes receiving your palm slapping his chest. You didn't see even a tiny muscle changing on his face to form an angry emotion. And it's all extremely touching and his patience is made of steel when he wants it to be like that, but.. you still can't concentrate.

- You know what? I'm tired, - you hear Jiwon nag loudly, after you stepped on his foot for the third time and music stops the moment after his words, - I can't work like that.

Was you ready to cry? Because you even feel your eyes watering. You never expected him to care about you more than he already did, but he clearly saw what was happening.

Though it's only your fault. You move away from him a little, brushing your hair back and close your eyes. There are three more candidates who can do that. Not a big problem for him to change.

Jiwon moves in the direction of the woman who's now particularly burns with flames of rage and you know that you are the one they are discussing and feels so pitiful. You really wish it didn't ruin your pride.

And it's not how they talk while looking around on dancers that made you feel like shit. It's how everyone know that you were declined and that it's absolutely your fault; and they feel like it's prior duty to stare at you so.. contemptuously. Everyone have their bad days. Yours just happen to be today. It doesn't make you worse or better, but it's hard to persuade yourself to think like that because you are already digging yourself in.

And his rejection is actually making it hundred times worse.

- So, I wanted to say that I'm extremely tired and that's it for today, - Jiwon stands in the centre of the room, looking at you all with such a sincere sorrow. You title your head, frowning. What the fuck? - I know that it's still a long way to go, but let's have an evening off today. We all are doing great and I am very thankful for all the hard work you do for me, - he speaks so.. slowly and thoughtfully. Like he really means it. It's nice, - And besides, I'm not getting younger so I need to rest. Let's pretend it's not the main reason, - you catch your 'what the fuck' expression in the mirror and he laughs, continue to talk like only he can. You have no idea how to explain that. It just hits differently, - So let's go, run faster until our very scary choreographer didn't change her mind. Go!

He claps his hands, bowing a little and continue to stand where he is, scrolling through his phone after politely saying bye to everyone who was addressing him. You don't move even a bit because now you feel like it's your prior duty to hail him. Of course people will know the truth, but he at least made an attempt to make it seems like it wasn't your fault.

You don't know how to feel about that. You really don't.

He stares at his phone and you wait until all the people are gone, clearing your throat to make him notice you.

- Shit, you scared me. I was ready to call you, - you title your head again, because what is wrong with him. He walks to the door, opening it for you again. What the..

- I am confused, but I still will say what I wanted to, - you come closer, letting the door shut and now it's his turn to be surprised because you just realized that you have a face that says 'I'm about to beat you up'. And you are not, - I wanted to say sorry for my work. I did a lot of mistakes. And I will understand if you are going to change me for someone else. I am truly sorry. And also I want to say thank you for what you did. It was.. great. Thank you.

Lowering you head, you look at his sneakers and sigh loudly.

- Look, I understand everything. I know what you are capable of and I will not judge you now, - he does it again. Sounds so mature. Reassuring. Calming. His voice is low and manly suddenly and you feel goosebumps running wild on your skin and you finally look at him, smiling, - But if you hit me one more time..

He pokes a finger at you and you laugh, murmuring short 'sorry' again, hearing how he chuckles softly. He's not mad. At all. You are so used to bullshit out of everything that when people actually treat each other like human beings it makes you lost.

- Okay. Remember when I told you I am not going to buy you drinks? - he looks at you mischievously and you nod slowly, making that "the fuck" face, - Lies. I will.

Now it's time to make that 'so...?' face and you do exactly it.

- Do you.. drink? - is he trying to ask you.. out? Like, is it.. no, it can't be real. It's ridiculous. No. Unless?

- I.. do, - the whole conversation sounds like two very slow idiots are trying to decide on something.

- So.. Me too, - you can't help but laugh shortly looking at his expression and then come back to the 'idiots' performance.

- That's... Nice. That we two drink, - you nod, trying your best to not to laugh again and he does exactly same. Hilarious to watch.

- So shall we.. do it together? - he stumbles for a moment then rolls his eyes and then smile, waving his hand in the air, - What I wanted to say is that I want you to relax and I don't know a better way than to drink. So let's go.

You know one that's better than drinking. But let's say he won't understand if you say it out loud.

Finally you just nod, exiting the room first.

This day is a fucking roller coaster.

[mirroredglitch]

On the Topic of "Friends"

After seeing the post that @fiftyshadesofdes made last night, I finally have the courage to discuss more thoroughly my experience with someone in the Mystic Messenger fandom. I would like to start with saying that if you got a notification for this post, it is because you are involved in some way. A few names shall be omitted for the sole reason that I don't want backlash from them specifically, but still.

This is going to get rather long, so, under a cut it goes!!

Many of you who follow me know that I was good friends with someone who writes a... decently well known fic involving the Choi twins. And some who I have talked more extensively with will know that this person and I are no longer friends.

I have to start from the beginning though, because although things got extra bad towards the end, there were events that happened along the way that hurt me deeply as well, and that I realize now were manipulative and abusive.

This person and I met through tumblr. I started following them after binge reading a few of their fics. And surprisingly, they followed me back. I was stunned, honestly. Someone I admired had noticed me! Me, who hasn't been active in any fandom in a long time, got in with someone I admired rather quickly.

They invited me to a server on Discord, and we talked more and more. Eventually becoming really, really good friends. I had never connected with someone as quickly as I did with them. We clung to eachother, in a way that I realize now was ultimately rather unhealthy.

I defended them when a 'friend' of theirs insisted on belittling them in the server. Like, I ripped into this person. I don't tolerate bullying, and if I see injustice of any kind, then I speak up. So that's what I did. And this person appreciated that. Probably too much, since this ultimately bit me in the ass later, but I'll get to that.

We, and a few other friends, started a fandom project. This project was met with... a lot of drama and controversy. We lost a friend in the process, and a few of our contributors left rather quickly. But we stuck with it. I would have defended that project and the people who were part of it with my life. And for a good chunk of it, I felt I had to. I answered asks, some of which were honestly nasty. I put out our PR announcements, and was met with some backlash with some of it.

I started to become friends with one of our contributors, @casualpastelgay. We had a shared love of Zen, and I was so, so happy to have someone to gush with about him, because my other friend disliked him so heavily. So I stopped talking about him with them, because I always seemed to be met with annoyance and animosity when I talked about him. Because he wasn't Saeyoung, and because this person also associated Zen with an ex-friend of theirs (the same one I defended them against previously).

I invited Raine into a server I made for my friends. And we talked about Zen in there. As well as discussing Vanderwood with @lokiiwood. My other friend decided that because we weren't talking about Saeyoung or Saeran, that they no longer had a voice. I was accused of replacing them as my best friend with Raine. I was made to feel awful for having friends other than them.

I had to deal with this while being sick, and camping with my (now ex) boyfriend and his family. I had to deal with dysphoria, and being misgendered and dead named, as well as the anxiety that I felt like my friendship with this person was crumbling for reasons I didn't even know. Because they weren't talking to me about why they were upset.

If I recall, shortly before this, I had started working on a Choi Sandwich fic that was meant to be a gift for this person. But, I was dealing with stress and so focused my attention to discussing an idea that was deeply important to me involving Zen. And I was bitched out for even thinking of an idea that wasn't this gift for them. Something that was meant as a stress reliever was treated with contempt by someone who I believed had my back.

They actually left my discord server because they were so upset at me.

The nail in the coffin on this? They had been complaining about how another friend acted jealous towards our friendship, and how they just wanted to be allowed to have other friends... but then turned around and acted the exact same way towards me.

We worked out our shit though, and I thought things were fine. But they threw a fit when I started getting closer with Karin/@lokiiwood as well. I had... a massive crush on her and they knew that, and got upset that I was talking to her as much as I did??

All throughout this, things were going... weird with the project we were modding. @fiftyshadesofdes had joined our team, as well as a few others, but I mention Des specifically because this person was truly awful to her. They got upset when one of our other friends starting getting close to Des and her date mate, @joz-stankovich. I heard numerous times how they thought that Joz and Des were petty and childish. And they misgendered Joz numerous times, which I got frustrated hearing, too. Because if they couldn't use their preferred pronouns, how could I expect this person to use mine when talking to others? As a trans guy, this deeply upset me, but, I held my tongue.

It reached the point where they were actually trash talking the art and writing of these two in private to me. Which was disheartening because they spoke so highly of them prior to Joz and Des deciding that they needed to step away from this person.

One of our other friends had also stopped talking to them for a while because of how they were being treated. And good lord... the amount of times I was complained to about how childish they were being. And how hurt they felt by this person... was honestly overwhelming. Remember how I mentioned earlier that my need to help bit me in the ass? Yeah, I went and talked to this person, and helped the two of them repair their friendship. It felt good to help, but now I feel as though my kindness and need to help was taken advantage of.

While all this was going on, I had to take a step back from the fandom project. I had a lot of life changes going on, and my mental health was getting extremely bad. To the point where I genuinely wanted to kill myself. I had split up with my boyfriend. I moved back in with my mom and brother. My grandmother passed away. My life was honestly a mess.

This person was by me through all of that. The mod team understood why I needed to take a break.

And then I got a new job. And I met my current boyfriend. And I stopped being online as much. I tried to message friends when I could, providing updates. Life was looking up.

My friend ignored me. Every single time I messaged them.

Until they finally responded, getting very upset with me for not being around. For 'abandoning' them. I got upset in return, and I lashed out. I think them getting upset with me for being happy and having a life was the straw that broke the camel's back for me.

I was told I was being replaced on the Choi Sandwich Week mod team. Because I couldn't be trusted to commit to it. So I left the blog and gave them full control. I transferred ownership of the discord server for it to them and left. I was so hurt that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

They left all of our other mutual servers in return.

A few days later I was informed by the current head of our fandom project that I would not be credited as part of the team because it was unfair to the others for me to be credited when I was taking a mental health break. Despite all the work I put into handling things on the blog. Despite the fact that I had been a part of this project from its conception. I had been through hell and back for this project, and this is what I got in return?

I told myself I was okay with that. And then a day or two later I saw that my ability to see all the channels in the server for this project had been revoked. And I was so deeply upset that I just... gave up. I left. I was done being treated like a villain for doing what I felt I needed to. I had been told that my not being credited had nothing to do with my personal relationships with anyone in the team, but the fact that it was mentioned, and what happened afterwards just proves that it absolutely did.

After our fight, I had made the decision to block this person on tumblr and twitter. And I made a post about how a good friend had hurt me. I was upset and I needed to vent. Joz, Des, and Karin were there for me. Joz and Des being surprising to me at the time because I thought they disliked me for being as close with this person as I was. I was pleasantly surprised that they were so open and accepting of me when I reached out to them.

Some time later, I tried to reach out to this person again though. Because I was hurting. How does one go from being best friends to practically hating eachother overnight like that?

I got bitched out for defending myself. For venting. For blocking them when I assumed they wanted nothing to do with me. I was the bad guy once again.

I also found out recently that they hurt my friend @aromaticboar as well. I don't know if they even realized they did it, but still. I know she's done chasing down their friendship, and so am I.

I will not name this person in this post, but anyone who wants to know is welcome to send me a DM. To those of you who know who I'm talking about... thank you for being by my side while I pulled myself together again after I was hurt.

And to anyone who has been manipulated or emotionally abused, by this person or anyone else... know that you are not alone. I stand by you and am always open to talk.

Thanks for listening.

[nothing-personal-my-dear]

Spartacus : Vengeance Rewatch - Episode 5: Libertus

Sex Scene: they were in a whore house. So lots.

“Cock”: 0 wtf

“Cunt”: 0 wtf

“Kill Them All”:  honestly surprised they didn’t say this, being in the Arena and all.

“Fucking Gaul”: 1

Slow motion Face Punch: 3

Episode Name Dropped by: none.

Memorable Death:  RHASKOS MY BABY!!

Favourite Line: “I’ve had my fill of games, let us leave the arena forever.”

- I seriously missed the Arena!

- Those Gladiators, I’m loving their style!

- Ha! I love all the dick measuring going on with the Romans, and the woman pulling all the strings.

- They are all so excited for the executions. Savages.

-  Okay, so I have a love/hate thing with Glaber. On one hand, he’s a dick. On the other, will people stop putting him down, geez!!!!

- “God of the Arena”    awesome.

- HOLY CRAP GANNICUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love Gannicus.

-  Okay, I hadn’t watched the prequel season when I first saw s2, and I 1000% thought Oenomaus and Gannicus were sworn enemies with the way they were looking at each other.

-  I love seeing Oenomaus fight.

-  Something I hate about the effect Spartacus has on people is how they doubt themselves constantly and beg for his approval. Agron is prime example. Agron made the right call in saving their people but because Sparty is upset and most of the Gauls are dead he thinks he made the wrong choice and seeks Spartacus’ forgiveness. Seriulsy, Agron is way smarter than Sparty, who lets his emotions guide him and dammed the consequences.

- “Mistakes were made on both sides” – NO they weren’t!

- DONAR!!!!!!!!!!

- “Finally, gods show fucking favour”. I have missed Agron and his swearing.

- Donar and his axe. I love it more than I can say.

-   Agron is so adorable.

- “So the gods finally fuck me to the afterlife. Care to join me”

-  Donar and Agron are still clearly looking for a fight, which sucks because the man is no real threat. Their thirst for blood reminds me more of s3.

-  AGRON!!! I JUST, I CANT WITH THIS MAN, HE IS AMAZING!

- I love how deeply offended Agron is by being called a Gaul.

-   EAST OF THE RHINE!

-  Lucius is such a grey character for me. When I first watched, I couldn’t tell if he was friend or foe, right until the end. Even in this rewatch, I still can’t place him.

-  A split second shot of Agron and he looks like a painting, a marble statue, perfection. He is so gorgeous.

-  “You could not have made speech before swinging the last of the wine.”

-  Rhaskos is a beautiful man.

- Yeah, Ashur, to the Arena! I wish he died.

-  Something I love about Marcus and Glaber is that I never once shipped them, they were so purely bro’s that I never saw a hint or possibility of anything romantic. Even now, they are still bro’s and I respect that.

-   Does Varinius really actually want a wife? He really seems like all he wants is sex.

- Oh all the talk of the abortion is intense. Ilithyia clearly doesn’t want to, no matter how much she wants Varinius.

-  Nasir’s wound looks super CGI, like that CGI penis from s1. Not good man.

-  AGRON BY NASIR’S SIDE AND THANKING NAEVIA IS EVEYTHING. My shipper heart.

-  I love how soft Agron looks. THIS IS WHAT LOVE DOES TO YOU BABY!

-  I never considered an Agron/Naevia friendship …… still don’t think it’d work. I’m more for Nasir/Naevia.

-  “Soiled and Ruined.” = that’s really rough, but sadly understandable.

-   Sparty looks so extra spinning his sword. I know you miss your bf, but seriously calm the fuck down.

- Oh wait, Sparty doesn’t give a damn that Crixus is about to die. He’s having a hissy fit because people are praising his name anymore? Get the fuck out.

- Sparty has some bat-shit crazy ideas, but they make for good entertainment. I suppose it’s part of his charms.

-  “A woman will always be moved to protect a child.”

-   “House of Batiatus”, been a long time since we heard that.

-   I do love Lucretia knowing all about abortions though. She is such a Madame.

-  Knowing what I know all these Lucretia/Ilithyia scenes are kinda tainted….but that doesn’t stop me from loving the absolute love in Lucretia’s eyes and the trust and forgiveness in Ilithyia’s.

-  NOOOO LUCRETIA, DON’T SAVE ASHUR. Fuck you Ashur.

- “The gods yet have use of you.”

- Lucretia is such a badass woman. She is so damn intelligent.

- OHMYGODS I CLICKED PAUSE TO WRITE SOMETHING ELSE BUT IT PAUSED ON AGRON’S BEAUTIFUL FUCKING FACE WITH HIS MEGA WATT SMILE AND EYES FULL OF HAPPINESS AND LOVE!!! This is boy is precious and must be protected at all costs.

-  NAGRON BE STILL MY HEART I CAN’T TAKE IT!

-          Ahhh, look at that cupping of the cheek!

-  I do like that Sparty is super impressed with Nasir’s willingness to fight.

-          “This time you stay, and I go.”

-  HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK!!!! THAT KISS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is sweet, and shy, and full of love and affection. Agron looks so soft, just all the soft sweet things.

-   As much as I love the Nagron kiss, Nasir’s reaction is off, and totally understandable. He’s a little confused, a little wary, a little afraid, and there’s the hidden joy there too. This might be the first time someone has shown him genuine affection and he doesn’t know how to respond to it. Nasir is just learning what it means to be free, and that means feelings things he’s never allowed himself to feel. His heart is brand new and fragile. He’s scared to let anyone in like that, and I think a part of him is afraid he’ll be reduced to a warm body again. (I could go on, but I’m actually writing a fic about this! Ha!)

-  BUT ITS SO HARD TO DENY HOW MUCH AGRON LOVES NASIR!

-   I love this pairing so much.

-   “I would overtake soft voice with bold words.”

-  I honestly don’t understand how Spartacus can trust a man he’s know a few hours to lead his people to safety???? These are people he’s vowed to protect, and he’s just pawning them off like they’re nothing. None of his “Generals” are there to see these people to safety, no one he truly trusts. It’s a big ‘wtf’ for me.

- Oh gods, the camera pans to Agron when Sparty says “we have been divided” and Agron looks so ashamed. NO BABY NO, YOU DID THE RIGHT THING. FUCK SPARTACUS.

-  Gannicus sex scene, slow-mo seems a little extra. Not that it wasn’t amazing though.

-  The whore Gannicus fucked, is super freaking cute. And I know my wording is super harsh but she doesn’t have a name.

-  Gannicus has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen.

-  OH CRAP I DIDN’T REAALISE BY THAT WHORE LOOKS LIKE SYBIL IN S3, how fitting.

- Seeing Lucretia on that balcony looking like a queen is amazing.

-   “May it crumble in our wake”

- OH FUCK YOU ASHUR!

-  I love how cautious Ilithyia is when Glaber sends the slaves away. She doesn’t wanna be alone with him. Very good instincts.

-  Oh Ilithyia, cut so deep.

-  “Have we drifted so far, from the love we once held?”

-  “You will do as your husband commands.” I am so eternally grateful not to be alive in those times.

-  Oh my gods, there is a part of me that really wants Glaber and Ilithyia to make up and be in love again. It’s a small part that comes out during good acting.

-   See, I still kinda want a Lucretia/Albinius friendship.

-   I didn’t know what the hell Varinius was saying with the Gladiators, but then I looked it up and it was the style of fighting and armour the Gladiators use. I never knew there was such structure to it, which makes it all the more amazing.

- Fuck I’ve missed the gladiator fights. They are more brutal than the battles.

-  The store room of the dead is so fucking gross. I love it.

-  The rebels popping out of the bloody water is one of the best things I’ve ever seen!

-   I really love when they have silent fights.

-   Sparty and Agron in the armour is fucking hilarious. They look like little children playing dress-up.

-  Donar is so worried about Agron! I love their friendship, and we were robbed of that brilliance.

-    I sigh at Mira/Spartacus scenes. It’s like he wants to love her, but he can’t, so he gives her lines he tells to all the rebels but his eyes are little softer so she thinks they’re in love. My queen deserves more.

-  “If any of you hold faith in any gods now would be the time to fucking entreat them.”

-  “It is an honour to stand beside you on the sands.” THE RESPECT CRIXUS HAS FOR OENOMAUS IS BEAUTIFUL.

- Crixus can’t hide how excited he is to fight in the Arena again, and I love it.

-   The crowd throws lettuce. What did lettuce ever do to you? and seriously, these people are meant to be poor…why you throwing away food you cant afford?

- Agron walks more naturally in the armour than Spartacus – who has actually worn armour before (never this lavish but still)

-  AGRON’S FACE WHEN SPARTY OPENS HIS MOUTH! He’s all like “shut the fuck up dick head, we are trying to HIDE here.”

-  Gannicus loves his brothers, though he has a weird way of showing it.

-   “I begin to question fucking plan.”

-  NO RHASKOS. DON’T HURT MY BABY. They’re all my babies at this point, lbr, except Spatry.

-   I love how Gannicus absolutely NEEDS to be the one to fight Oenomaus.

-   I would seriously be going as nuts as the crowd is over this fight. It’s awesome.

-  BABY NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RHASKOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M LEGIT TEARING UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why couldn’t they have saved Rhaskos?!?!?!?!?!?!

-  Mira is amazingly smart.

-   OH I LOVE ILITHYIA HOLDING ONTO LUCRETIA FOR SUPPORT!

-  Gannicus is so agile.

-   “I will send you to her arms brother.” I AM SO EMOTIONAL.

-   I was so worried about Gannicus and Oenomaus

-  Taking down the Arena is so fucking brutal and amazing and I love it.

-  Glaber protects Ilithyia, Seppius protects Seppia – THESE MEN PROTECTING THEIR LOVES. For now anyways.

-  I actually really like Seppius and Seppia for the simple fact that they seem to actually care about people more than status. They cared that Mercarto died, that was very human of them.

-  I love a good neck snapping.

- Agron kinda has his own version of a hiss AND I LOVE IT.

- Look at those intestines.

-  Cossutius, thank the gods he’s gone. His death was so extra though.

-  OMG that cut on Galber’s cheek from a thrown spear is very s1, when Sparty stood in the arena and a spear was thrown at him. wow.

- Sparty throwing his sword, again!

-   “I’m not the fool you and your daughter think me.”

-  Holy cow, Glaber is so angry and vengeful – oh what a fitting word choice.

-  I was so worried they were gonna show us Albinius’ smashed face then.

-   I love that Gannicus kinda relaxes a bit at seeing Crixus. I like this friendship.

-  It’s so beautiful seeing the Arena burn, after all the lives it’s taken.

- OH THE RUDIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-  I’m honestly surprised Donar leaves, as if he wouldn’t wait for Agron.

-  Oh gods, seriously, Glaber. Let your wife grieve before you completely ruin her whole life.

-  Varinius is a fucking coward.

-   WHAT THE FUCK THE WHOLE EPISODE THE WORDS “COCK” AND “CUNT” WEREN’T SAID AT ALL. Am I even watching Spartacus anymore?!

-   I’ve noticed on the episodes with a prominent Agron, my comments almost double. I’m okay with this.