#honestly I was shocked when I saw people complaining about people who don’t like this comic

[canthelpit0]

Enemies (With Benefits) PT3

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count: 3.9k +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of weed, (implied) RichKid!Reader, jealous!Chris, pet names (cherry), choking, humiliation, heavy degradation, sub!Chris, dom!Reader, I think that’s all.

(A/N: I got this idea from this request. Tysm for the idea & inspiration. Hope this is good.)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

I haven’t talked to Chris ever since that party.

wich wouldn’t be too shocking, since we hate each other. but I’ve been ignoring him fully. I wasn’t even responding to his mocking or arguing with him.. just…

The entire situation of us, two people who hate each other so much, and have for so long, hooking up, is extremely toxic.

And I’m self aware, I know that.

It just never bothered me before... But he was treating me like shit. And I’m done with it.

It’s been a week now, and I don’t think he cares that much honestly. At first he went on like normal making witty remarks trying to start arguments and disagreements, but since I didn’t respond he started to do it less and less.

It feels so refreshing not to have a headache everyday.

Only con is, that we share most classes. So i have to see his face all the time. Tho I just ignore him.

At first I saw him walking a round with charlotte, and honestly I don’t know why she is still talking to him after almost hooking up.

I don’t know what he was trying to achieve with that. But if the point was to make me jealous he is so bad at it.

I’ve been talking to Ethan a lot though.

And like I thought, he’s a nice guy, and he always shares his weed.

Even though I have enough friends, most of them are ‘lunchbox friends’. Well except for Matt and Nick, but I can’t really talk to them often considering I’m trying to avoid their brother.

I feel like most of my friends are fake. Wich they are.

We’ll talk and have fun in school, but if I walk past them at the mall they will act like they’ve never seen me in their entire life.

Ethan though. Ethan is nice. His skater friends not so much. Well I guess they’re just critical. After all I’m not any type of alternative at all, and I frankly, don’t know how to skate.

But at least they respect me. Probably because I’m wealthy but ih well.

Ethan and I haven’t done anything.

Other than kiss.

I walk out of history class, a class I share with Ethan. We walk down the hallway side to side.

When we get to my locker- wich is only two away from Chris’ -I unlock it to put my books in it.

All this time Ethan had been complaining about how his next class would be math and whatnot. I had noticed that Ethan was skipping less and less classes now. I never realized how many classes we shared because he was always skipping. But now he wasn’t. And the lack of tobacco in his system was making him itchy and I could tell.

Once you got to know him he actually got quite talkative.

I look over my shoulder to look at Ethan but see Chris in the corner of my eye.

Chris…

Chris.

Without thinking I grab the collar of Ethan’s sweatshirt roughly crashing my lips onto his.

Ethan, having not expected it, doesn’t do anything for a moment, before he kisses back.

Pushing me against the lockers behind me roughly. His tongue finds its way into my mouth as we start to make out.

In the middle of the hall.

My arms wrap around his neck holding him close.

He was kissing me like i was the only source of oxygen. And it felt good. I could tell he liked kissing me, and he wasn’t bad at it.

“Gonna suck face in the hallways now too?”

I pull away slightly. My breath was coming out in short and harsh pants.

I ignore the voice. Chris’ voice.

…Chris

Instead I stare back into Ethan’s eyes. I try to focus on the way his hands feel on my waist as he holds me against the lockers.

His grip isn’t too tight, but it was firm. His forehead pressed against mine as I stare back into his dark eyes.

“Disgusting.”

I look over at him at the disgusted tone. I scoff. My eyes lock onto Chris’ and it feels like electricity shoots up my spine.

Ethan looks a lot like Chris, but he doesn’t have the blue eyes.

The blue eyes that I-

I pause all the thoughts leaving my brain as I hear Chris let out an irritated huff.

And suddenly the feeling of Ethan’s hands on my clothed skin feels too hot. Even tho he unironically resembles Chris a lot, he isn’t Chris.

And god when did my standard become: Chris.

I tare my eyes away from Chris’ gaze. My eyes locking back onto Ethan’s dark eyes.

While Chris’ seem cold and icy, Ethan’s are warm and welcoming. But I don’t want to be welcome and the warmth seems too hot.

It feels like going out in a hoodie on the hottest summer day.

-suffocating

“Fuck off Chris. You’re not any better”

I say to Chris, while staring back at Ethan. But before I can hear Chris reply the bell rings.

I let out a breath. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Chris slam his locker harshly and leave. And once he does I leave a peck on Ethan’s lips.

I slide out of his grip chuckling.

“Imma go now pretty boy, I’ll see you later” I smile at Ethan.

I quickly take out my stuff for my English class and speed walk past him.

★ ★

I’m late to my class but I can’t help but not care.

I share this class with none of them.

Not Ethan, not Chris, not charlotte.

Wich was a relief. Because I don’t know what that was. Ethan has never done anything to make me feel uncomfortable.

Chris had.

So why am I comparing them.

Why do I feel like the lack of just simple bickering with Chris is giving me withdrawal? Why does his glare burn through my soul? Why does it feel wrong being near Ethan when Chris was there? And why the tell did it feel like Ethan’s touch burned?

Why did I want Ethan to be Chris?

Well no let me rephrase that.

Why did I want Chris to be nice to me.

He’s always been rude and mean. I knew what I was getting into. And I liked it, and it felt great. So why am I missing the attitude.

Am I that much of an attention whore?

My eyes trail around the room. I take in the whiteboard none of the words written on it register in my head. I look over the students, mostly only seeing the back of their heads, since I sat all the way in the back

I’ve never felt so loved, alone and hated at the same time.

I know Ethen likes me, and it feels like I’m using him for escapism. To distract myself. I’m leading him on..

I feel so alone. Literally the only people I would usually tell, are the brothers of the problem.

And I’ve felt hatred so intense from Chris. And I know he hates me, and I know that’ll never change

★ ★

He days seem to pass so fast, yet so slow. And at this point I don’t know what I’m doing.

I stick to Ethan. Sometimes I’ll make out with him other times I’ll just stay close to him. Especially when Chris is around.

And I can see that he is getting more and more pissed off.

I’ve been wearing more revealing clothes. Atleast as revealing as it can get with the dress code and all. Mocking the fact that Chris can’t do anything about it.

I was hanging out at home. Alone since my siblings were once again at a sleepover. It wasn’t like they were always at one. And I feel like they’re too young to party and I trust them.

I trust that they aren’t lying to me.

Anyway, since they’re only one year apart they share some friends. So they both went to a sleepover birthday party from one of them.

I’m sitting on the couch, for once enjoying the pice and quiet. I have a movie playing, but I’m drowning more in my own thoughts than watching the movie.

I pause when I suddenly hear the doorbell ring.

I think that maybe it could be my siblings? No neither can drive yet.

Maybe it’s a package. Did I order something? But no it’s midnight they wouldn’t still be delivering orders at midnight..

I get up anyway trading over to the door.

I mean if it’s a killer and I go out this way…. Oh well.

My eyes meet Chris’ as soon as I open the door.

I go to slam the door in his face, but he catches it roughly throwing it open.

“Cherry, please” he huffs. He walks in his sharp eyes trained on me. Chris closes the front door behind him.

“Chris get out” I sigh. I purse my lips glaring right back at him.

If he stays i don’t know for how much longer I can control myself. I feel like I’m having withdrawal symptoms. I miss the way he hates me.

“Cherry, listen” he snaps slightly. I raise an eye cockily. I shift on my feet and cross my arms. My glare doesn’t let up.

But Chris is looking at me different. He doesn’t glare, he looks at me with… desperation?

“What?” I snap back harshly.

“Cherry, please? Literally give me anything?”

Oh, so he is as desperate as he looks.

“Give you what?” I play dumb. My arms stay crossed. I keep looking back at him, his pathetic state only serving to piss me off more.

He can’t even drive, how the fuck did he get here. Nobody knows were fucking so he probably didn’t ask Matt. But Ubers are expensive at this time.

“You know what I mean. Cherry, I’ll literally get on my knees right now and beg.” He says that slightly jokingly. He doesn’t actually think he’ll have to go that far, but if he needs to he will.

“So, get on your knees than, Chris” I mock back, thinking that he wouldn’t actually do it.

But before I can blink he’s going down on his knees right in front of me.

I raise my eyebrow staring down at him.

He dramatically puts his hands together making a begging motion. “Please, please, please cherry??”

I look down at him. He looks so cute when his eyes don’t look like they want to bore through me.

He actually looks desperate and needy right now.

I know I said I wouldn’t hook up with him, and I’ve been doing good at ignoring him for almost a whole month. But god he looks so cute, so… god

I thread my fingers through his messy long hair. His wavy brown hair. And I suddenly pull him up. He winces at the harsh treatment, but he lowkey deserves it for being an ass.

I hate how he stands just a little bit taller next to me.

I crash my lips on his and it feels like fire works go off. I’ve kissed Ethan so many times these past few weeks but it never felt this good.

My arms wrap around his neck. My fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Chris’ hands instinctively go to my waist. He holds me flush against him and I feel so comfortable under his touch.

I pull off of the kiss scoffing. My hand wraps around his neck harshly. I pull him down to my eye level while slightly choking him, and he just lets me.

“Hm? Did you not get your dick sucked by someone else?” I mock him, my tone is harsh and condescending.

“Did she not do it as good as I did?”

“Don’t flatter yourself” he grumbles under his breath. He has the audacity to roll his eyes at me.

My grip on his neck tightens and he lets out a sharp breath, one that almost sounds like a moan.

“And yet you still came to my house, got on your knees and begged for me?”

He falls silent at the harsh words. He purses his lip staring back at me with what looks like shame in his eyes.

I move him harshly, changing the place where we stand so I’m close to the door. I harshly squeeze his neck before letting go.

“Go to the living room, I’ll be right there” I nod to the living room behind him. Chris eagerly nods before going to the living room.

I sprint up the stairs and with in a minute I’m back again.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you know that?” I glare at him while towering over his sitting figure.

I go to slowly straddle his lap. His back is pressed against the back of the couch. He looks up at me with ever so pleading eyes. Looking at me like he was desperate, wich he was.

“Such a pathetic bitch. Going to your enemies house and begging to be fucked” I say harshly. My grip goes back to his neck as I choke him slightly. Not enough to actually choke him, but enough to make him lightheaded.

“Sorry, sorry” he closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

His eyes meet mine and he looks purely submissive now. It’s funny to me how he is so needy. Maybe I need to ignore him and make him submissive more often, because I like this sight.

I pull him closer by his neck kissing him again. His hands ghost over my sides not daring to actually touch.

I pull away abruptly, listening to his whine.

“Undress.” I says simply standing in front of him.

While I watch him undress I turn off the TV fully. The movie had been paused, but I hadn’t paid attention to it anyway.

He does as I say. He slips off all of his clothing. He’s left fully nude in front of me for me to look at.

He squirms under my harsh gaze. But he is turned on. It’s obvious by his rock hard dick. It’s already red and swollen, leaking pre cum, looking for some release.

I pull out the vibrator from my pj pants pockets. I had gotten it from upstairs. Chris never let me use it on him, unless he was being really submissive.

And since he was, I might as well have fun.

I press it to his tip gently, not turning it on anything yet. I look back at him. I capture his mouth in a kiss. And then turn the vibrator on. He actually flinches at the sudden stimulation.

The kiss is messy, mainly because Chris can’t focus. But The vibrator is literally on the lowest level.

I pull away from the kiss listening to Chris whines and moans. He keeps his hands at his sides. He knows better than to try to get it away. But he looks like he’s itching to just push it away, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure.

“You look so stupid right now” I chuckle.

I put the vibrator on the secound lowest level. But that alone is high enough for Chris to physically hold himself back from flinching. His moans and whines turn into breathless whimpers.

“Answer.” I scoff. And before I knew it I slap him across the face harshly. The clap echos through the room.

I was letting my pent up enger out, but Chris was enjoying it. As soon as I slap him, his mouth falls open in a silent moan.

Chris didn’t seem like the type. But he had a raging degradation kink.

The sting of the slap traveled right to his dick. His length was twitching in my hand. He was sinking further and further into the couch. He was enjoying this.

“I know-“ he breathes out. But I cut him off by turning the vibrator on higher.

His body practically jolts forward in pleasure. He tries not to come right then and there.

His hand grabs my wrist, the one that was holding the vibrator. “I’m close-“

“I don’t care Chris. If you come now you’ll have to go through the rest overstimulated.” I shrug. Then I abruptly turn the vibrator to its highest setting

He tries to curl his body in on himself but I push him back. And within seconds hes coming all over himself.

I keep the vibrator situated on his tip. I watch how he stays rock hard. His dick starts twitching as his whines get louder and needier.

He weekly pushes my hand off. But after A moment I take it off fully.

While he heaves for breath, I start to undress. I straddle him. When he feels me sink down on his tip his hands go to my waist out of instinct.

I sigh at the feeling. We haven’t fucked in what feels like ages. The stretch hurts. But still I purposefully clench around him to make it even tighter.

His eyes are clenched shut. He’s a moaning mess.

“Chris open your fucking eyes” I slap him again. His eyes flutter open.

“You look so cute all submissive” I taunt. I’m only half way down and I’m struggling. But he doesn’t need to know.

Before he can whine in answer I ram myself down. I wince at the feeling. But Chris’ moans are louder.

I start to gently bounce on him. But he is growing overstimulated quick.

I keep on doing that, my glare focused on Chris. Chris’ eyes shut tightly for a moment. He breaths harshly.

His eye meet mine again. He looks purely submissive. His head tilted down slightly, mouth slightly agape.

“Handsome boy, all needy to get fucked like this hm?” I wait for him to answer but he just whines and moans in response to my movements.

“Can you talk baby?” I ask, huffing. I grab his face, slightly squishing his cheek together with one hand. “Hm? You like getting fucked like this?”

He gasps when I speed up the pace. He blinks a few times, halfheartedly throwing back his head.

Another slap echos through the living room. His head is turned to the side his eyes wide. His mouth is agape as he tries to hold it together. “I told you to fucking talk Chris”

One of his hands goes to his cheek. He grits his teeth trying to formulate words.

But before he can, my hand goes to his neck gently squeezing as I start to ride him harder.

“So good- fuck-“ he breaths out harshly.

His eyes are half lidded. The rough treatment only serves to turn him on even more.

“Yeah, you like that?” I scoff. My hand snakes from his throat to his neck. I pull him in for a sloppy kiss. He can barely focus on anything, every sense in him overwhelmed.

I pull away from the kiss. My hands both move to his shoulders, To use as leverage to ride him harder.

Chris throws back his head, his eyes shutting. He only gets increasingly louder. My movements get harsher and more relentless.

I take one of his hands from my waits and position it at my clit. “Rub it” I demand. And as soon as I do he starts to rub it vigorously.

I clench around him, feeling my release wash over me. Chris’ hand on my hip gets harsher and harsher. I keep moving though, until I feel him twitch.

I quickly pull off an hover over him.

I sit down on his thighs, then start to jerk him off harshly. I put the vibrator back to his tip and turn it on.

Chris’ body harshly jerks forward. I put a hand on his chest and push him back.

And within a few seconds Chris is coming all over himself again.

We both pant as I stare at him. I keep sitting on his thighs as I watch him for a moment.

I lean down and leave a peck on his forehead. I pull him into me. My arms wrap around his neck, putting his face into the crook of my neck.

I pull away from him and slowly get up off of him. I pull on my panties, and pj pants again. As well as my top. Quickly getting dressed again.

I really don’t want to, but he needs to go. As much as I missed him, I made it a point to not hook up with him.

And now that I have, I might as well treat him like he treats me.

“You have to leave.”

He pause looking at me questioningly, It’s like he hadn’t expected me to tell him that. Like he expected us to just hang out and cuddle or something.

Which is not going to happen.

“What?” He questions, his tone sounding blunt, almost harsh.

“Christopher, I want you to leave” I say more sternly. I overpronounce every word to make sure his stupid brain understands it.

“Why” he scoffs frustrated. He stares at me like I’m crazy. Like I’m crazy for telling him to leave when leaving is literally all he ever does.

“Christoper.” I grit out my tone more harsh and serious.

I can’t help the loud scoff that I let out. I walk to the nearest bathroom. I grab a towel halfheartedly dampening it.

I walk back to the living room, where Chris sits mildly stunned. I throw the damp towel on him watching as he awkwardly cleans himself.

“What’s up with you” he sasses me. His gaze is judging.

“I hate you, Chris. I always will.” My words are harsh. And the more I talk the more I can see him narrow his eyes at me in anger, growing more upset by the second.

“Just because we fuck, doesn’t mean I like you. You’re a shitty person.” I take in a deep breath. I feel like I could say worse than that.

“I hate you, and you should leave.” I purse my lips. I watch his expression shift. His jaw clenches, and I can see that he looks like he is about to blow up on me.

The withdrawal symptoms of not fucking me were too much, but now he feels the rage. He remembers why he hated me so much. I can literally feel the hatred and anger radiating off of him.

His already sharp jawline only seems accentuated by the way he clenches it. He swallows his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Chris’ eyes narrow at me, but he just gets up and puts his clothes back on. He looked furious.

I hate him, so why would I let him stay, why would I forgive him. He got the Sex he wanted, so why was he so pissy about leaving?

Now fully dressed he walks closer to me, not touching me.

“What’s wrong with you?” He scoffs. His mood was now definitely sour.

“That’s how you always treat me Chris. Now leave” I snap back at him, getting just as angry as him.

“Okay cherry, have it that way” he gives me a halfhearted sarcastic nod. He then brushes past me to the door, opening it, before a loud slam echoes through the house.

I had sworn to not hook up with him anymore. And if I did that I’d treat him like he treats me. But why do I feel so shitty now?

Can’t a girl have sex and then he all giddy and want to cuddle?

Yes but Chris’ presence irks me. It’s disgusting. He is disgusting.

Masterlist

A/N: requests are always open. pls give me ideas on how to continue this <3 comment if u wanna be on the taglist

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos

[xxaraaq]

𝙈𝙧. 𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙜𝙪𝙮

masterlist

word count | 4.5 k

cw | smut, rlly lowkey asshole Armin

Armin x Black!reader

A/N | If you see a typo no you didnt. But I hope you enjoy.

 He was raised to be a gentleman – a sweetheart, if you will. And on the surface he is, all big smiles and boys laughs, but in reality, he's every lover girl's nightmare.

 He’ll be the first one to tell you that he loves you while he’s texting another girl, the one to take you on dates while he has five other people lined up after you give him what he wants. And he thought you would be just another number to his list, but oh was he wrong.

The first time he saw you he was at his sixth house party of the month. He was bored out of his mind if he was being honest, only here to see his friends and get shitfaced. He was in the middle of nursing a cup of god knows what when he saw you, clad in the tightest dress he thinks he’s ever seen. 

He almost chokes on his drink, eyeing you up and down. “Who the fuck is that?” He asks no one in particular. “Who?” Eren says, following Armin’s gaze. “Her.” He says, smirk already on his face. “Y/n? I don’t think you could handle that bro, trust me.” Eren says, scrolling on his phone. “Is that a challenge?” He asks, curious about the sudden doubt coming from his best friend. “No, it’s a warning. I’m telling you, she’ll have you begging for more, then act like she never met you.”  “It sounds like you’re one of her victims.” He scoffs, amused with the sudden caution. “Look, you do what you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Now he was really amused.

He looks at Eren one more time before getting up. He was honestly interested to see what the hype was all about now. He sees you laughing about whatever with your friend, not really caring. “Excuse me, is it okay if I talk to your lovely friend for a minute?” He asks your friend, taking her by surprise. He sees her glance at you for approval before she smiles and leaves. “Hey country club, I was wondering when you were gonna stop staring and come up to me.” You say, a pretty smile gracing your face. “I didn’t wanna interrupt the wonderful conversation I’m sure the two of you were having.” He says, taking in your shining brown complexion. You really were fine, ass and hips showing out in your light green dress.

“Just say you were thinking of the best way to tell me that you wanted to fuck me. It’s ok, I’ve heard it all” You say, putting your drink on the counter. “Well if you say it like that it makes me seem like an asshole.” He jokes, sultry tone making you twist your legs together in want.

“I thought you only fucked with blondies with blue eyes.” You say, playing with one of your passion twists. “I swear that's a lie. Everyone’s fair game.” He says, making you laugh. “You mad corny!” You laugh, hitting his shoulder playfully. “What, you don’t like corny?” He asks, leaning in closer. “Na, I like it. Keep it up and I might let you fuck me.” You whisper in his ear, smirking. “Might?” He asks, feigning offense. “Boy you heard what I said.” You say, looking him up and down.

–

He doesn’t know how he got in this situation, but he’s not complaining.

He took you back to his apartment, and next thing he knew he was near four orgasms in, threatening to press crescents into you hips as he fucked you into the bed.

Fuckk, I’m gonna cum.” You moan, meeting his thrusts. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had.” He slurs, eyes glossed over in lust. “S’good, keep fucking me like that, just like that.” You mewl in fucked out bliss. He presses your back down in the perfect arch, reaching deeper inside you. “Oooh fuck.” You yell, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He smirks, lopsided smile on his face. “S’good baby? Tell me how good it is.” He teases, thrusting harder to make you jolt forward in shock. “S- s’good, so good.” You babble, lost in ecstasy.

He fucks you until your both shaking, mind too blurred to think about anything besides pleasure. It’s until he’s nutted for the sixth time that he couldn’t take it anymore. He thought y’all would stop after that, but you weren’t done. He was surprised when you pushed him onto the bed and got on top of him, sinking onto him like you’ve been waiting for it all night. He hisses at the over stimulation, not knowing how much more he could take. “Shh, just let me make you feel good.” You coo, placing open lipped from his neck to his sternum. You both knew he wasn’t call it quits, say it’s too much, so you lifted yourself halfway off him just to slam back down, moaning in unison.

He’s so happy he didn’t listen to Eren.

-Nene

[songmingisthighs]

High End

group : ateez

pairing : hongjoong × model!reader

genre : smut

wc : 2.8 k

warning : explicit smut; oral (m receiving), alcohol consumption, degradation (??), unprotected sex (just no), hongjoong being cocky, mc being a filthy sub, bathroom sex ?, cum eating, idek man it’s confusing like there’s slight spit play ig? and like some pussy slapping, unrealistic depiction of sex. if your sex after this sucks pls don’t come at me. not my fault your partner is not kim hongjoong.

a/n : it’s ass oclock. literally the witching hour like 3.33 am. if i don’t make sense, i am not sorry. you are reading the horny thoughts of a delirious woman who just saw kim hongjoong dressed in balmain and suddenly she got inspired to write about this genre of hongjoong. it’s hongjoong. how can i not? any complaints should be addressed to my chinese lawyer. sue mi.

a/a/n : this is a repost of the first high end fic that somehow did nawt show up on any of the tags I'm seriously so sick of this

buy me coffee?

Kim Hongjoong is a powerful man and you know it.

You saw him when he was invited by Olivier Rousteing himself to get a sneak peek of the newest line. It was obvious to everyone there that Kim Hongjoong was a new face, he had never been seen in the fashion scene before and yet he suddenly appeared next to Olivier himself like they were old racquetball buddies. Honestly, it kind of seemed like Hongjoong was simply Olivier’s newest pet, a fascination of his worldly inspiration.

Or so you thought.

Kim Hongjoong easily commands any room he’s in no matter what he was doing. The first time you laid eyes on him was when he was being introduced to the venue owner. ‘Soft’ was the first thing you thought of him followed by 'delicate’. You have never seen a man with such stature to seem inviting yet absolutely forbidden. There was this aura building simply by him smiling at people and making small talk. There was a moment where your eyes met and you swore you saw a glint in his eyes that seemed… possessive. Your model friends told you to pay him no mind but even as you were called to disrobe and do final touches backstage, your eyes didn’t leave him. Neither did he on you.

Throughout the show, through wardrobe changes, you notice that Hongjoong too experienced some changes of his own. He was eyeing you in a way that was rather different than when you both first laid eyes on each other. The outfit the stylists put on you felt almost like nothing under Hongjoong’s gaze. You convinced yourself that he was eyeing the material and the styling or even the makeup but no, he was practically undressing you. Your assumption was further supported when you saw how his gaze shifted from the model who went before you to you. His rounded orbs that peeked from his sunglasses slanted, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, his crisp suit showed a noticeable rise of his chest that remained until you turned around, and when you reached the end to strike one last post, you saw him ducking his head to watch you as he let his sunglasses slid down his sharp nose and licked his bottom lip.

So obviously when Olivier brought him over to introduce him to you, you couldn’t help but be intimidated. But when Olivier said that Hongjoong was intrigued with you, you felt your toes curl and your breath hitch. It was even worse when he took your hand gently and planted a soft kiss on the back. The motion was slow and steady as if he was appreciating every minuscule welcome of his gesture from you. Electric shocks coursed through your body from the spot where his lips lingered just a tad bit too long. Not that you were complaining though, you liked the feeling when he made contact. For some reason, the littlest touch felt addicting, it left the spot he touched with a warm sensation that you craved even seconds after it was over. Not only that, but the way he spoke was alluring. Of course, he tried speaking English to you and Olivier, and while it was good enough for you to understand, his manager took over and helped translate. All this time you thought French was the sexiest language but apparently you were wrong because suddenly Hongjoong’s aura changed once he was in his element. That room was his element and you couldn’t peel your eyes off of him, it was as if you were in a trance. You hadn’t even realized that Olivier excused himself and Hongjoong to attend to the guests, wanting Hongjoong to meet some of the people from Balmain itself. While Olivier simply turned and walked away, Hongjoong took a step towards you, tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled a devilishly gentle smile.

“I hope to see you soon.”

Though it was phrased like a request, you realized that it was very much a demand. With eyes that dropped to the hand he kissed, he looked back up to you and left with a not-so-subtle wink.

Had anyone else seen the both of you interacting, they would’ve immediately tried to cut the sexual tension with a sword and they would’ve done it so easily. Kim Hongjoong is a powerful, influential man who knows a lot of things that are in his element. But what he knows most is what he wants and moreover, he knows how to get what he wants. You hadn’t even realized that he slipped something into your hand until you looked at it.

A room key.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn’t clear how it happened, it wasn’t clear when exactly it happened. But you found yourself between Hongjoong’s manspreading legs in the bathtub, sucking his cock as he took sips of his Moet messily. Droplets of the bittersweet liquid fell from the corners of his lips down to your face and into your busy mouth. The taste of his precum mixed with expensive alcohol somehow made your head swirl as if you were experiencing a drug-induced high. You were never one to analyze the taste of cum, but you had a sneaking sensation that rather than the alcohol, it was Hongjoong’s cum that made the alcohol taste better. Maybe it was some sort of a drug, Kim Hongjoong that is, he was your drug. Through your heavy lids, you could see Hongjoong smirking down at you with maniacal ease playing on his lips, taunting your presence and your work. The golden liquid in the tall glass was swirled around to further emphasize the power he had between you. While it seemed like he wasn’t affected much by your greedy mouth trying to coax an orgasm out of him, the way his cock twitch inside your mouth said otherwise. You knew that having him was a good idea ever since you first laid eyes on it when Hongjoong oh-so-casually pulled the tie of his bathrobe to reveal his boner. Never have you been so attracted to someone’s genitals but you knew you just had to have that pretty thing in your mouth.

“You like this, don’t you? You’re enjoying yourself much more than I’m enjoying my cock between your lips,” he mocked. Usually, you wouldn’t appreciate being degraded like that, a sexual act in its own nature is explicit and dirty but somehow he made it sinfully pleasing. You couldn’t help but clench at how he was talking down at you, mocking you for being desperate for him. His chuckle sent a wave of vibration that reached your tongue, “I can see your cunt clenching at nothing. Do you really want me that bad? Do you like my cock that much?” he taunted. The fact that the bathtub was facing a window alluded you momentarily, you were so focused on sucking off Hongjoong that the whole world almost literally blurred away.

For Kim Hongjoong and Kim Hongjoong only, you were nothing but a toy that he could collect and play with however he wanted. But you had no issue with it as upon realization, Hongjoong is a man who appreciates art. Whatever he does has a meaning and the meaning is more often than not uniquely beautiful. To be the art that he possesses to appreciate, was like the highest honour you could ever reach.

The more you tasted him, the hungrier you were. As your head bobbed to take more of him, wanting to get him to cum on your tongue so you could selfishly guzzle his juice for yourself. “Greedy, greedy girl,” he said almost in a disappointed manner as he ran his hand down your hunched back down as far as he could reach, “How can something so beautiful be so sinful?” he sighed. Your mouth detached from his cock when you felt him drag his fingers from just above your ass and up. The feeling of his nails marking you ever so slowly was thrilling; your pussy dripped with arousal, mixing into the warm, soapy water, and your spine arched as goosebumps rose in the path that Hongjoong made. Had you not been kneeling on the tub, you would’ve definitely slipped and possibly injured yourself.

Hongjoong watched in awe as your face contorted in pleasure. He watched as your bottom lip trembled and eyebrows furrowed while your eyes shone with the help of the accumulating tears that gathered from the pleasurable sting. The only thing Hongjoong regret at that moment was how he couldn’t make a baroque painting out of your erotic expression. The lines forming on your face told all the emotions that you were feeling as if it was telling its own story and explaining the harmony. Looking south, your trembling breasts made your state somehow more precious; the stiff peaks looked so inviting but the fleshy mounds warned him to treat you delicately. In contrast to the night sky that served as a backdrop, you looked like a star in his eyes.

Without wasting time, Hongjoong slid into the tub, joining you in a kneeling position as he turned your body to face the window. The gleaming lights of Paris in the night framed the reflection of you with Hongjoong pressing his body tightly to your back. For a moment, you could feel the smooth head of his cock prodding around your pussy, collecting your arousal as if he wanted to collect them so as to not go to waste. Slowly and carefully, you felt Hongjoong’s arms making their way up your arms. Your face heated up when you felt him lift them and lock them behind his neck. “Keep them there. Can you do that for me?” Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his hot breath and lips on your ear. This man truly knew what he was doing. Which was why he slapped your cunt when you didn’t give him an answer. “I was asking you,” he growled which made his chest vibrate on your back. With a nervous lick to your bottom lip, you meekly nodded, “Yes, sir, I can,” though you tried, you couldn’t hold the crack of your voice which thankfully Hongjoong found adorable so he didn’t even comment on it. “Good,” the hand that slapped your cunt stayed in its place with two of his fingers nestled between your nether lips comfortably. His other hand soon found purchase between your breasts to rest on your sternum. He must’ve felt how quick your heart was beating because he began grinding his cock on your cunt accompanied by his fingers tapping on your clit into the rhythm of your heartbeat. Even if you willed yourself, and you did, you couldn’t help it when your hips jolted into the taps, wanting more stimulation from his fingers as your hole clenched, forcing some of your arousal to drip more to Hongjoong’s cock.

In one swift move, Hongjoong impaled you with his length. The sudden impact almost sent you reeling forward, hurtling even, had it not for Hongjoong’s surprisingly strong grip on your body. Each thrust from his hips sent your thighs trembling in pleasure and it was only intensified when his fingers decided to toy with your clit. Melodious grunts and moans on top of sensuous huff and puff of air should not be as erotic but Hongjoong managed to fill your head with his verbal affirmation of pleasure. Your senses were sent to overdrive while your perseverance was put to the test. Through each slip of your fingers or how your knees buckle, you tried to not falter. “God, Hongjoong,” you moaned, nearly squealing when Hongjoong pinched your clit rather harshly. The sudden treatment caused your body to shiver and it was to Hongjoong’s delight to see your breasts bouncing and legs trying to close.

If you think you were in a state of absolute bliss, Hongjoong was in a whole new plane of existence. He loved how responsive you were to his moves, the way your body sought more of him whenever he touched a new place. He loved how your skin felt against his. But nothing beats the feeling of staking a claim over a pussy, your pussy. Though you both just met, his ego managed to convince him that your pussy was made for him, it was melded to accommodate him and only him. He wondered how he could feel so amazing being in someone’s cunt. Obviously, there is pleasure, but anyone can feel pleasure from anything. Not everyone had the privilege of experiencing heavenly sinful bliss. It felt so right but so wrong at the same time because how was he supposed to live without being inside of you all the time after this? He never wanted to leave. Even if he does, he wanted to make sure to truly make you his.

“I’m going to make your pussy mine. I’ll make sure to leave part of me inside you,” he announced. Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating the absolute recklessness Hongjoong was about to do to you. Words never had such an effect on you but you love it, you love what Hongjoong was doing to you where he wanted to do it with you. The sound of sloshing water and also the feeling of being swayed by the movement of the water due to your activity felt organic, it felt natural. Droplets of water that splashed on your entangled bodies served to remind you of the reality that the rest of the world still existed. But it didn’t seem to matter. Not when you and he were so close to cumming.

Knowing that he didn’t want your hands to wander, you decided that your release was more important. Your right hand left its post to grab the Hongjoong’s hand that was nestled on your cunt. Before Hongjoong could protest, your now vacant left hand grabbed a handful of Hongjoong’s hair on the back of his head, instantly causing Hongjoong to gasp and roll his eyes into their socket. Meanwhile, you worked his hand on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on the abused bundle of nerve frantically. Your hips ground to chase the pleasure on your clit and to meet Hongjoong’s thrusts continuously until you were squealing, releasing your cum. As you rode the high or orgasm, your body tried to curl up on its own, your cunt had a vice grip on Hongjoong’s cock as your legs tried to snap shut. The pleasure was almost too much for you to handle that it started becoming painful. But the pain was too good, so addicting, you wanted more of it and you didn’t want it to stop. So through the pain, with Hongjoong’s other arm keeping you close, you enjoyed every bit of sadistic release.

Hongjoong tried to pump his cock as best he could despite the firm grip your cunt had on him. Thankfully, he managed to unload his seed in time, just as your hole began fluttering. The knowledge that he was making you his along with the sweet sensation of release were the two things Hongjoong could think about. On top of that, he also believed that he couldn’t get enough of it, especially the sight of your body twitching in front of him, decorated by the Parisian lights. It was a boost to his ego. Moreover, when you finally collapsed into the tub with your head resting on Hongjoong’s hip next to his softening cock, Hongjoong never felt more powerful.

In contrast to the activity you both just went through, Hongjoong softly carded his fingers through your hair, gently so as to not cause tangles. The comforting gesture allowed you to close your eyes and enjoy the moment, though your lips decided to show some appreciation to the man by peppering kisses around his hips. “You did such a good job,” Hongjoong cooed affectionately, genuinely satisfied with what just happened. So much so that he took his glass that he abandoned on the tray by the tub to finish off his Moet.

You thought he just wanted to finish off the glass but you were wrong. Because the next thing you know, Hongjoong maneuvered your body to lean back on the tub as he leaned close to you. With his thumb, he gently coaxed your chin open and spit some of the alcohol into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise initially but the stern yet hopeful look in Hongjoong’s eyes made you swallow the liquid. The slight burn of alcohol was no match to the fire that burned in Hongjoong’s eyes when he saw how obedient you were. Once you opened your mouth to show that you had indeed swallowed the mixture of his spit and alcohol, Hongjoong wasted no time in pressing his lips wholly on yours. The rest of the alcohol in his mouth dripped down to yours, some you welcome down your throat and some dribbled down the sides of your mouth down to your chin and further down, creating a trail to your cleavage. With a last pat to your spent cunt that was leaking his cum underwater, Hongjoong smirked to your lips, “Such a good job indeed.”

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[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Set-Up for Chapter 4 (3)

Summary: Hazel is really bad at lying. Especially to you.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of violence and death, I don't know what else honestly it's like 2 AM

Word Count: 4244

Note: I know it's been a while, my bad- turns out this whole university thing actually needs my time and effort to pass or something idk. Anyways, this chapter is lowkey kind of boring cause it's the set-up for the fun upcoming action-filled bloody chapters so just bear with me. But since I was gone for a while this is extra long... at least for me. Next fic is chapter 2 of The Grief We're Given so enjoy the lighthearted fic for now... also am lazy so this is unedited LMAO so it might be bad idc - Bia <3

“(Y/N), I know this may come off as a shock, but I love you too much to hide it from you anymore. I’m actually… the Spider-Woman!” 

PJ dramatically pulled off the red mask from her face, striking a pose, earning a laugh from Hazel. 

The trio were putting away the equipment they used for the Fight club after all the other members had left the gym— and by that it meant Josie and Hazel were putting away equipments while PJ thought it was a fun idea to dig through Hazel’s backpack to pull out her Spider-Woman mask, put it on, and start doing cartwheels and other nonsense around the gym floor. 

“Okay, why don’t you actually help us clean up, PJ,” Josie complained, folding up the floor mats, “Instead of blowing Hazel’s cover?” 

“Fine,” PJ rolled her eyes before throwing the mask back to Hazel, who caught it reflexively just as it was about to hit her face. “But even if anyone saw me with the mask, it’s not like they would believe any of us losers could possibly be the amazing Spider-Woman.”

PJ threw a playful grin at Hazel who folded the mask and hid it in her backpack. PJ had been begging her to reveal her superhero identity for a while, saying that it would raise all of their social levels right to the top. Josie, in reverse, begged Hazel not to reveal her identity, especially given the risks involved. 

“But what if you just told (Y/N)? Then, she’ll fall in love with you, then automatically she’ll hang out with us more, and by association she’ll bring Isabel and Brittany with her!” PJ argued, still unwilling to drop the topic. 

“Yeah, and then the next villain that wants to kill Hazel will take the people she loves as hostage,” Josie warned. “In fact– I know we’ve been doing the self-defense club for a while and it’s been going pretty well so far, but Hazel has exposed herself way too much.” 

PJ groaned, indicating her impatience with Josie’s cautious approach. “Okay what part of this is too much? All Hazel’s doing is lightly punching and kicking a bunch of girls.” 

“Was it the backflip?” Hazel chimed in. 

“Yes, it was the backflip!” Josie blurted. “And we can’t keep saying ‘there’s all sorts of people who teach you stuff in juvie’ as an excuse anymore.” 

“But the club is working!” PJ insisted, flailing her arms towards the gym. “Girls are actually acknowledging us in the hallways, I’ve gotten 3 high fives just this afternoon, and girls– the hot ones know our names. And also Female solidarity and whatever. The club is working!”

“I know. I feel like if we keep it up, you guys might actually be able to take down some crime in the area.” 

“No, if we keep it up we can put our fingers inside of each other, grow up, Hazel.” 

Josie crossed her arms. “Whatever. It’s your call.” 

“I do feel like people are liking more than just the hitting and the tackling part of the club.”

The club had moved onto catfights on the gym floor, and it was no secret to Hazel that she always looked forward to these training sessions, particularly when it came to her interactions with you. All the punching, kicking, and rolling around the floor was more than what Hazel believed she deserved, but she couldn’t help but crave a deeper connection with you. And the weekly lunch meetings to make the ‘women murdered in history’ project weren’t exactly enough to get to know each other. 

PJ shrugged. “Yeah, I know, we’re empowering them. Duh.”

“No, I mean, seriously, to have a safe space like this, it means a lot to people, and I think if we took some time to spend a meeting and actually get to know these girls, like, it would be really important instead of just…” Hazel pictured the time you were on top of her, pinning her down with your feeble strength, bodies pressed close– so close– as you grappled each other on the floor, listening to the chants and cheers of the girls circling around. Her voice trailed off. “...sweating on them.”

PJ and Josie paused, then looked at each other with an incredulous smile. 

“Hazel, that is… genuinely a brilliant idea.” 

“I love talking about my trauma.”

Hazel squinted. “That’s not really–”

“-I literally jack off after every single therapy session. It just makes girls weirdly horny.”

Josie shook her head. “Don’t say ‘girls’. It’s just you.” 

“Okay!” Hazel interrupted, fearing someone walking in midst of the conversation that turned weird thanks to PJ, as always. “I’ll just email the group about our next meeting.” 

You walked into the gym with an excited grin. Fight club was the one thing you looked forward to in school nowadays— it was the only place you felt truly safe and comfortable, with only girl members (minus Mr. G, but he was an ally) who cheered you on with every weak punch that you threw. 

Hazel noticed you walking in and waved to you, and you noticed that the format of the club had changed today. Everyone was sitting in a circle, like one of those sharing sessions in kindergarten times. You joined the circle in between Krystal and Hazel, who grinned like an idiot when you sat beside her. 

“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, but Josie answered your question.

“So, we know that this club has been a place where we can feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a safe space and a place where we can open up and talk about our feelings.” 

You nodded along as the girls began to talk about themselves— Sylvie with her stepdad, Stella with her stalker, and Brittany with her jewelry business— and you realized that although you had been fighting each other for a while, you never knew that much about the girls. You listened tentatively to each of their stories, but to your honesty, you were quite distracted by your project partner, who kept opening her mouth, then closed them continuously. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to open up. Your curiosity piqued, and when your eyes met with her’s, you encouraged her with a supportive look. 

Hazel smiled at your aid. She didn’t really know how to talk about the biggest secret that she held about her superpower, but your expression was so supporting– too supporting, that she found herself speaking out. 

“Well, ever since…” Hazel began, her mind racing to find the right words.

I’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider, 

“...My parent’s divorce,” 

I’ve been doing this, like, superhero stuff after school. I don’t even know if I’m doing this right, you know?

“My mom’s been doing this, like, mid-life crisis. I don’t know how that’s sitting with me, you know?”

And it’s just me swinging through buildings and beating criminals up and handing them over to the police who hate me because I’m a faceless vigilante but the entire neighborhood depends on me because some of these criminals are genuinely insane. I’ve broken bones, I’ve fallen through roofs, I got impaled once, that was fun— and it just feels so incredibly amazing but so burdening, all the same time. 

“And it's been really really dark.”

She took a glance at you, who was nodding through her words, returning her gaze with tender understanding. 

“This has just been really meaningful to me to, like, get to know some new people-”

(Y/N).

“-Who actually wants to, like, get to know me.”

You felt a surge of empathy for Hazel. You could hear the vulnerability shining through her words— it must have been hard to find good friends after experiencing such hardship. You couldn’t help but come to admire her even more. 

You raised your hand. “And I just wanted to say that I think it’s very hard to find a good and safe community in school for girls, and I’m really grateful to Hazel for founding this club,” You gushed. “It's really brave of you— and your friends— to take your past and turn it into something so amazing for us. So, thank you.” 

Hazel grinned like an idiot, fidgeting with her hair as her face burned up.

“Get a room, you two,” PJ intervened with a smirk. “But seriously, I just want to circle back to what Brittany was saying–”

“-I would like to go next, if that’s okay.” Josie raised her hand. 

PJ was obviously discontented, but Josie started anyway. 

“I don’t really like talking about juvie and everything that happened over the summer, um, you know, we get a lot of props or whatever cause people think it's so badass, But, really wasn’t. I mean, unless you consider getting hazed horrifically every single night, like, badass. I mean, obviously, you know, we had to survive the tributes, and you know, I did have to, like, fight people basically every single night. People were betting on us and we were given shivs and rusty pocket knives and splintered wood and, um, pipes as well.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. No one’s going to believe this, She thought, turning to look at Isabel— 

–Who had the most distressed look on her face? 

Oh, Hazel blinked, shocked that Josie’s improvised monologue is working. There were almost tears glistening in Isabel’s eyes. She assumed Isabel to be the only one, then she turned to look at you— and your hand was on your mouth, eyes filled with woe. 

“And we had to just like, fight people, sometimes to the death,” Josie added.

Hazel frowned. This wasn’t good.

Josie continued.

“And I still hear their screams at night and that guilt probably will, like, always shackle me forever. And sometimes people still try to attack us in the streets for revenge, or try to blackmail us into doing bad things with them, but I realize now, I don’t have to be that person anymore. We don’t have to be like that anymore. We don’t have to just let things happen to us. Because of you guys. And I am just really grateful for what the club has become and… just especially, you know, from where we started and, uh…” 

Hazel’s eyes were leaping out of her face as she gestured to Josie to tone it down. She frantically shook her head, indicating that Josie’s speech had much more effect than she thought it would.

“Yeah, sorry,” Josie caught on, ending her facade quickly. “I feel like I kinda killed the vibe. I’ve never really, I guess, said that to anyone before, sorry.”

There was a silence that Hazel felt the need to break. This was bad– she knew Josie liked talking about her trauma, but she didn't expect Josie to make up the most devastating, hunger-games type of trauma in front of you. 

“But juvie also wasn’t that bad,” Hazel blurted. “I mean it’s probably way less scary than adult prison, and it really builds character–” 

You turned to look at Hazel who was rambling about the positive effects of juvie. Your heart broke at the sight of panic on her face– how harsh were the conditions of juvie that Hazel felt the need to protect her trauma? 

Josie cut in. “Yeah, okay, people wanna wrap up maybe or…” 

“I’m going through a divorce.” 

Everyone turned to Mr. G. 

“Whoo! That shit felt good to say.” Mr. G beamed, his leg stretched out as a free spirit. “Whoo, I tell y’all. Men… men need therapy.” 

Josie stood up. “Yeah… I think that’s a good place to maybe wrap up.” 

“What was that?” Hazel asked. 

Josie shrugged, putting on her jacket. “I don’t… I don’t really–”

“-I mean, you were just bullshitting from A to Z with no breaks in between. I didn’t know you were such an actress, Josie.” PJ laughed, playfully shoving Josie’s shoulder. “You should think about that, for your future career.” 

Hazel did not laugh. “Josie, you were the one who told me not to be ‘too much.’” 

“I don’t think it was too much. I think it was the exact amount of oomph we needed as a group.” PJ grabbed her shoes from the floor. “It made us look vulnerable but also tough.” 

“I don’t think (Y/N) was thinking that.” 

“Okay, How do you know what (Y/N) was thinking?” 

“I don’t, but I could see her–” 

“-Maybe she’ll tell you herself,” PJ said, pointing behind Hazel. 

Hazel spun around to see you walking towards her. She immediately straightened herself, touching up her hair as you waved to her. 

“Hazel.” 

Hazel gulped in response. 

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to finish the project today?” You asked, giving a shrug. “If you’re not busy. I know you’re always kind of busy and that’s why we just always did our project during lunch, but–” 

“-I’m not busy!” Hazel exclaimed, before mentally slapping herself for being too eager. “I mean, today sounds good. Today is perfect.” 

“Okay!” It was your turn to be eager, giving a nod before pointing to the girls locker room. “I’ll just get my bag, and I’ll be right back.”

As you slipped into the locker room, PJ and Josie slid towards Hazel with a curious look. 

“It didn’t look like she was angry,” PJ commented with a grin. “So, in conclusion, today was a huge success. Do you guys want to get chicken on a stick to celebrate?”

“I… I think I’m hanging out with (Y/N).” Hazel gaped, as if she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. She was going to hang out with you. Today. Outside of school. 

“Right now?” 

“Right now!” Hazel gasped. “Oh my god, I don’t know why I said yes, I have to go and patrol the neighborhood–”

“-Ugh, Hazel!” PJ groaned, grabbing Hazel by the shoulders. “That’s literally all you do. You go to school, you come to the fight club, then you patrol the neighborhood. That’s all you do.”

“But—” Hazel sputtered. “-Crime–”

“-Hazel, Crime has been pretty low recently. The world isn’t going to burn down just because you miss patrol for a single day,” PJ countered, as if speaking to a child. “Do you trust me? It’s all about faith. That’s all it is. Leap of faith, Hazel. Leap of faith. Trust me when I say the police can deal with all the petty crimes. Go and enjoy yourself, finish your project, and remember to use protection.” 

Hazel’s cheeks grew hot as she opened her mouth to counter PJ— just as you approached the trio with your bag. 

“Hey, Hazel. Ready to go?” 

Hazel buffered, her mind still on the sexual innuendo. She couldn’t help but think about certain activities when you stood there with your signature smile, earning a cackle from PJ. 

“Sorry, we were just talking about juvie trauma and shit. She’s all yours.” PJ earnestly pushed Hazel towards you. “See you guys tomorrow!” 

PJ skipped out of the gym, followed by Josie who gave Hazel a thumbs-up. Hazel responded to Josie with a nod. PJ was right– it was just for a day. Just one day off to hang out with you– which was the dream– and tomorrow, she would patrol twice as hard to make it up. 

“Sorry, I just was thinking about-” Hazel faltered. “-things.” 

“Things?” 

Hazel felt the room get hotter. “It’s fine. Not really important.”  

“Alright. So, where do you want to go?” You asked. 

“Uh…”

Hazel thought about what PJ had said. 

Leap of faith, was it?

And she took the leap. 

“Do you want to come over to my place?” 

By 8PM, the two of you found yourself in Hazel’s room, caught in a fit of laughter. Pizza and snacks were strewn across her bed, and music played out from her laptop as you wrapped up the project— a lego diorama with a bunch of famous murdered women. It was quite inappropriate but also incredibly creative, and the ridiculousness of it all had you two in stitches. 

“I bet you 5 dollars that Mr. G doesn’t even have an actual degree,” You joked, adding a lego version of Casey Becker to the diorama. “He just showed up one day, and Principal Meyers desperately needed more teachers.” 

“And ever since the club, he’s just been handing out As to every single girl,” Hazel laughed, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles as well. She lived for your laughter, thanking PJ and Josie in her head for convincing her to skip patrol for the day. 

“Okay, I think we’re almost done. Just have to add the blood.” You grabbed the bottle of red paint and dropped some on your fingertip, then dabbed it around the lego characters’ bodies to create the ‘murder’ effect. 

In the process, you somehow managed to smudge some on your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hazel who had made a habit of staring at you all the time. 

“Oh, you got some on your…” Hazel tried, pointing to your face. 

You blinked, eyes focusing on her face as you registered her words. You chuckled in embarrassment, trying to find the paint on your cheeks and obviously failing. 

“Can I…?” Hazel breathed, and you tilted your head, allowing her to wipe away the streak of paint with her thumb. Her fingers moved delicately across your cheek, her eyes locked onto your’s. You could feel the warmth of her hand on your skin, and you melted against it. Hazel’s touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary, and Hazel realized only after she had savored the view for a while.

She pulled away, breaking your gaze with a sheepish smile. Your cheeks were tinted with a soft blush, and you muttered a word of thanks before finishing off the project with distractingly loud heartbeats. 

The two of you stared at the finalized diorama in proud silence, taking in the project in its glory. It was messy and odd, but it was still illustrious. 

“Well, I guess we’re finished!” You clapped your hands to commemorate the ending of you and Hazel’s homework. 

“It’s been fun working with you,” Hazel replied, a little disappointed that this was the end of the project. What excuse did she have to hang out with you now?

You cocked your head. “Oh, don’t act like this is the last time we’re ever going to hang out together.”

“Really?” 

“Of course!” You grinned. “With Mr. G’s class, lunch, and the self-defense club, I’m going to be with you all the time. You might even get sick of me at some point.” 

I’m not sure that’s possible, Hazel thought to herself, really pleased that she had secured friendship with you. 

“Speaking of the self-defense club, I’m really glad that you invited me,” You continued, wiping your red hands with a nearby paper towel. “I was being honest during the sharing circle. I’m really grateful for you.” 

Hazel softened at your words. 

“And I hope your mom gets better with her mid-life crisis,” You added.

“Thank you.” Although you had complimented her, Hazel couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about the sharing circle. She was lying to you– continuously. Was that a good base for a relationship? Not that you two had a relationship. Not that she didn’t want one. “Listen– what Josie said about juvie today, I think I have to clarify some things.” 

You shook your head. You had purposefully left out that subject not to trigger her– and you didn’t want to make it feel like she owed you her history. “Oh, Hazel, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I get that it’s a hard subject to talk about, and I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.” 

Hazel hesitated. She supposed if you didn’t really want to hear the explanation, she could keep her secret—

“-I mean what you went through was brutal and inhumane,” You continued.

Hazel’s guilt suffocated her. 

“But you endured through it. You’re so brave. And so strong and just… honest. Like I can tell that everything that you do is genuine. You make me feel like I can be strong too—”

“-Okay, I need to tell you something,” Hazel interrupted. She couldn’t handle it anymore— but she knew she couldn’t tell you the whole truth. She took a deep breath before continuing. “There are some things happening in my life right now that I can’t really… talk about. But I want to. But I can’t. It’s for your safety and I shouldn’t even be mentioning that but… you really matter to me.” 

Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that. 

Hazel swallowed hard and gazed at you for a reaction. 

“I do?” You peered back at Hazel’s reddened face. She nodded in response and it was your turn to be flustered, not knowing what to say. 

“And I… I want to be honest with you,” Hazel pressed on. “I can’t tell you the whole truth. But I—” 

“-Dispatch, we have a 10-90 in progress at the bank downtown. Requesting immediate backup and EMT support.”

Shit. 

Shit shit shit. 

Hazel quickly grabbed her laptop, which she had rigged to eavesdrop on police communications. She forgot that it automatically turned on after school. Why did it have to be now, of all fucking times?

“Was that the police?” You asked, confused. 

Hazel shook her head frantically. “No, I just– it’s just another, uhm, project that I’m working on, it’s fine–”

“-Copy that. Units en route. Proceed with caution.” 

“We have eyes on the suspects, attempting to establish a perimeter.” 

“10-4, be advised, we’ve informed EMTs, and SWAT is en route. Keep us updated.”

Hazel hastily began typing, searching up the latest updates on the current news of the town. She managed to find the location of the bank robbery— which had everything Hazel feared for. Armed robbers, high-tech weaponry, and injured police officers.  

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped today,” Hazel muttered under her breath. 

You paused. “Skip what?”

“I—” Hazel swallowed, inner conflict evident as she spoke. “-I think I have to go.”

“Go?” You paused. “Hazel, what is going on?”

Hazel didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up and grabbed her phone and her backpack, briskly heading towards the door. But you were faster, quickly running and positioning yourself in the path to block her way. 

“I think I know what’s going on,” you claimed, your voice low and heavy. 

Hazel froze. Oh no. You knew. You knew? How did you know? Had she been so obvious? Was it the back flip?

“(Y/N), I can explain–”

“-This is related to juvie, isn’t it?” 

Hazel blinked.

“What?” 

She stared at you, who looked incredibly serious, with lips pursed tight in worry. Hazel shook her head frantically. She wanted to kick PJ for even coming up with that excuse– now it was getting all tangled up with you and her hero work. 

“No! It has nothing to do with juvie,” Hazel assured, trying to get past you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Hazel.” 

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. 

I kind of do. 

You understood her expression as guilt. “And obviously I don’t understand fully what’s going on but if what Josie said was true and some things are happening with the people you messed with from juvie, then, I want to help you.”

You stepped closer and took her hand, holding it tight with genuinity. 

“Hazel, I care about you.”

Hazel released her breath. 

If you had said that in any other context, Hazel would have kissed you right there and then. Your hands felt so warm, so gentle– a bit shaky, as if you were afraid of what she would do if you let go. And your unwavering eyes– upset eyes that made it seem like her worries belonged to you too— And it took everything in Hazel to swallow back her words, gently guiding you to her bed and sitting you down. 

For a moment, you thought she would stay. 

But Hazel pulled away from you.. 

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Just please, stay here, and I’ll be back,” Hazel whispered. “I promise.” 

And after a regretful look, she was gone. 

“Hazel—” You called after her. “Hazel!” 

Your mind began to race– where was she going? All you remembered from the police transmissions was something about the bank and the SWAT team. You reached for your phone, searching up the local news. It wasn’t hard to find articles related to the current conflict— 

Masked Robbers Employ High-Tech Arsenal in Bank Heist, Defying Police Response

Bank Heist Nightmare Unfolds; Thieves Utilize Cutting-Edge Tech

Bank Robbery in Progress: Impossible to Arrest, Police Say

Police Overwhelmed in Ongoing Standoff at 1st Street National Trust Bank

This was bad. Bank robbery? High-Tech Arsenal? It sounded dangerous– more than whatever Hazel could handle, no matter how strong she was during the self-defense club. What was she going to do with these criminals? Did she owe them something? She was always writing stuff in her notebook— did it have anything to do with this? 

You ignored the questions stemming from your fear– you didn’t have time to think. Hazel was out there— and she was very clearly heading to an angry, dangerous scene. 

But Hazel was just a girl. 

And you had to protect her.

You had to save Hazel Callahan.

Previous Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

Next Chapter

(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter" here BUT if you want to be tagged in all chapters, put "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST ok???)

@valenftcrush

[wheeboo]

emergency contact {pt. 2} | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which you and seungcheol first meet. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader (ft. popular cousin!joshua and other members) GENRE. fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, basically a prequel to the first part WARNINGS. reader has anxiety from large crowds, depictions of an anxiety attack, cheol says a singular curse word WORD COUNT. 1.5k

requested by anon: Hello! I hope you don't mind but may I request a second part for emergency contact? Like maybe how they met &/or how the reader got into the accident? I really love the story!

notes: hi anon! honestly i didn’t expect for anyone wanting a part 2 or intend in making one, but coming across your msg i thought of an idea and had to do it since your my first ever request 😊 i didn’t want this to be too long, so this is about how they first met cuz i don’t think i can do the accident scene justice (im sorry!!!). i guess this is for the people who are curious behind their relationship. feedback is highly appreciated!

← part 1 | part 2 | part 3 →

Crowds aren’t your thing. Parties aren’t your thing. They never have been. 

It’s the first thought that pops up when you show up in front of Joshua’s place as the early evening breeze sends its chills up and down your arms. 

Despite you coming earlier to the birthday party then expected, you already notice some figures in the house already, assuming it’s Joshua’s friends coming to help set up. The thought of meeting people you haven’t met before hasn’t been helping in easing your worries away. 

However, you take a moment to gather your thoughts and remind yourself that tonight is about celebrating Joshua's birthday. He already told you upon inviting you that you didn’t need to show up if you weren’t up for it. But he’s your cousin and one of the only people you share a close, familial bond with𑁋you want to show you at least have some human decency, even if it means stepping out of your comfort zone. 

Taking a deep breath, you walk up and knock on the door. It swings open just a few moments later, but you aren’t met with Joshua. You’re met with a man who appears similar in height, a denim jacket covering his shoulders and his dark eyes widened in surprise just as you are. The brief, eager dimpled smile that you saw for a moment quickly fades away into... disbelief? Shock? Did you suddenly grow a second head? You couldn’t tell. And maybe you didn’t want to know.

You let your eyes scan over his somewhat familiar features. You recognise him𑁋he’s one of Joshua’s friends, obviously𑁋but your mind can’t exactly put a name on him, and it didn’t help that Joshua was quite popular himself. Yet there’s a curious flutter in your chest as the two of you lock gazes for a single moment. 

“Hi, um,” You greet awkwardly, feeling your face flush with heat from the embarrassment. “Is, uh... is Joshua home? I’m here for his birthday party...”

The man blinks back to reality, stepping aside just a tiny bit. “Oh, yeah, he’s home. I can go get𑁋”

“Y/N! You’re here! I’m glad you decided to come.” Joshua’s voice interrupts his words.

Then you turn to greet Joshua with a smile and a quick hug. “Had to show I have manners, you know?”

He gives you a few comfortable, reassuring pats on the back. “Don’t worry, you know I wouldn’t complain if you decided not to come. And you can leave anytime.” As you fully insert yourself inside the home, you notice the mysterious door man making his way back into the living room area, and you feel the subtle hole of disappointment sink into your stomach. 

Joshua leads you into the living area, where you catch sight of a few of his other friends that you also recognise. Two of them is Lee Seokmin and Boo Seungkwan, who are also quite popular. Then you notice Yoon Jeonghan, one of Joshua’s closest friends from way back when. And then... you notice mysterious door man setting up a table full of drinks in the back. He’s the only person you couldn’t put a name on.

“Everyone, this is my cousin, Y/N,” Joshua announces to the room as all boys turn to look in your direction. You give out an awkward wave as your eyes scan their faces, and when you meet back with mysterious door man, you see him give you a small, polite smile. 

Progress, you think to yourself. It’s small, but it’s something. 

Seungkwan and Seokmin greet you quite warmly and excitedly, and Jeonghan was really the only person you knew more about the others. For some reason, the interactions feel more comforting than you think. 

“...and that’s Choi Seungcheol in the back over there. He’s a close friend in my year. I think you’ll get along with him.”

You catch Joshua's words and your eyes immediately shift to the figure at the drinks table. So, his name is Choi Seungcheol. The name buries a rightful place in your mind, and a sense of familiarity washes over you, as if it's a name you've heard before, even if you can't recall where or when.

“Excuse me, sorry, excuse me...” You mumble your way through some groups of people, the weight of the crowd pressing upon you suffocatingly.

You knew what you were expecting for a party hosted by Joshua, a popular person surrounded by a circle of equally popular people. But the more you can remotely feel the presence of a stranger next to you, you feel something gnaw at your insides and all the vibrations and sounds heightening up your senses. You hate it. You hate your anxiety. 

You try to look for Joshua, for anyone in general that you may recognise, but you find yourself lost in the swamp of people. All kinds of conversations were entangled in one another, making it difficult for your mind to distinguish one voice from the other. The noise becomes a jumble of unintelligible chatter, and your heart pounds anxiously in your chest as you hike your way up the stairs and into a nearby corner, hoping that the sounds will die down.

And by the time you reach the top, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on your breathing, feeling the brimming tears in your eyes fall down your face. Inhale. Exhale. One. Inhale. Exhale. Two. Repeat.

But the tears keep only keep flowing, a silent release of pent-up emotions. The frustration and vulnerability weigh heavy on your shoulder. And it's in this vulnerable state𑁋out of all possible circumstances𑁋that Seungcheol finds you.

“Y/N?” 

Seungcheol's voice breaks through your chaotic thoughts. Startled, you slowly open your eyes, the dampness blurring your vision. As you glance to the source of the familiar voice, you see Seungcheol's concerned and frantic expression.

“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asks worriedly.

The concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. But in that moment, you feel a leap of hope amidst the suffocating weight of your anxiety.

“Sorry, yeah, I...” You sniffle, swiftly trying to wipe away any tears, but he sees them clearly. “The people, um... They’re not really my thing.”

His expression softens in an instant. Seeing your tears gives him the intrusive urge to wipe them away, but he refrains himself. 

Instead, an idea pops in his head as he scurries to take off his denim jacket before gently draping it over your shoulders. For a moment, your eyes quickly catch sight of his exposed arms.

"Here," he says softly. "It might help you feel a little more grounded."

You gratefully accept the jacket, pulling it tighter around you, his scent lingering into the air. The gesture, small as it may be, brings you a sense of comfort and safety, more than you expected it to be.

“Thank you,” You respond appreciatively, voice quiet and low.

Seungcheol couldn’t help the satisfied smile on his face as he shoots his gaze down to the floor, hoping that you weren’t able to see it. As you wrap his jacket around in a more comfortable position, he takes a step closer.

He clears his throat hesitantly. “If it isn’t working, then uh... I heard that hugging someone can also help too.”

You nearly let out a cough at his suggestion. No one has ever proposed that kind of idea before, and frankly, you hardly thought about it. But in this moment, with Seungcheol standing before you, and the thought of his arms circling around you, brings nothing but a certain jump to your heart and a sense of comfort that you sought.

So you let your shoulders relax and mentally prepare yourself as you give him a small nod.

Seungcheol steps closer and carefully opens his arms, inviting you into his embrace. With a mix of anticipation and nervousness, you take a step forward, finally closing the distance between you.

As his strong arms encircle you, you feel an immediate wave of calmness. The world around you fades into the background, and all that matters in this moment is the warmth of Seungcheol's embrace. It’s the only thing you can focus on. His presence envelopes you, as if creating a shield around you. 

Hesitating for a second, you rest your head against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It's a comforting sound that reassures you, as if to simply convey, It’s okay, I’m here. You never thought that being in this position with Seungcheol𑁋a mere stranger, but also not entirely𑁋would alleviate your body into surrendering in his comfort rather than pushing him away. 

The hug becomes a silent conversation; it’s awfully intimate and intense that if it were to happen again, you’d still feel the same as right now. Seungcheol holds you firmly but gently as you let your limbs fall weak in his arms. You feel the emotions begin to build once again, causing a whimper to escape your lips. 

As the tears fall, Seungcheol holds you even tighter. His presence feels like a lifeline, helping to keep your thoughts grounded in the present moment.

Minutes pass, and eventually, the intensity of your emotions begins to subside. Your breathing steadies, and you start to regain a sense of composure. Slowly, you loosen your grip on Seungcheol and pull back away from him.

“Feel better?” he asks you.

You give him a grateful nod as you take off his jacket and give it back to him. “I... think I needed that more than I realised. Thank you.”

And as you were about to leave, the last thing that he says sends that hopeful flutter through your heart. 

“I’m proud of you, just so you know.”

A small, genuine smile forms on your lips as you take in his words. "Thank you, Seungcheol.” And maybe, just this once, I am a bit proud of myself too.

[impactedfates]

Hello! Is it alright if I request platonic headcanons for Dan Heng, March 7th, and Welt with a teen!reader who’s really calm and chill? They don’t cause trouble/chaos, has a really calming presence, easy to talk to, is mostly mature for their age, but they aren’t cold or blunt. They are nice but not naive, and they are quite observant + smart when they need to be, so they’re good at solving problems (reader is kind of like the calmest one on the Astral Express lol)

Please remember to take breaks and to stay hydrated! Your health comes first :)

A/N: Yes it's alright :D Thank you, I'll remember to take breaks and drink water, you will too alright?? I'm so sorry if this came out so late :sob: I didn't mean to make you wait for so long!

Genre/Trope: Platonic + Found Family (Express Family)

Format: Head Cannons (Separate)

Warnings: None

Extra: Reader slightly of taller then March despite being younger // Grandpa Welt <33 // Reader was also found in ice along with March

Dan Heng admires how calm you can be, even in stressful situations and is thankful at how observant and smart you are. Likely helping the group get out of certain situations due to it. You're rather different to the girl who was found floating near you in ice and he noticed quickly how you two were almost polar opposites.

He enjoys having another person on board the express who's calm and he's thankful you're easy to talk too. And that you don't mind how closed off he is himself, he's also thankful you don't cause trouble on missions or the express and rather you help defuse them.

He sees you as a younger sibling and makes sure you're being taken care of as well. Everyone on the express is his family and he will ensure all will be protected. This means you have to eat your vegetables, hydrate and sleep.

I see you two relaxing in the archives as you help him with adding things into the Data Banks when neither of you can sleep. And when you do ultimately fall asleep, he carefully carries you back to your room and tucks you in before continuing working himself.

Also, despite being younger then most of the express, you're more mature then a good few of them which are adults. And he's unsure if he should be concerned cuz of that fact.

March 7th is older then you, but she considers you her twin! Simply because you were both found on the same day, and even though everyone knows you're a teen so younger then she is. People go along with it.

She complains a bit about being shorter then you, one of the times she doesn't call you her twin. But she means well, all her little annoyances and complaints with you slightly being taller is a joke.

Anytime she's stuck on a puzzle she always call for you (And I mean like, those puzzles you buy in shops) and always watches intently as you figure it out.

She's of course aware at how calm and chill you are, and honestly. When you two first got to know each other she wanted to see what would change that. Pulling pranks and attempting to annoy you but not too much. Yet you still stayed calm.

She's very interested at how you're so calm in nearly every situations, now a days. She accepts it as you and won't try to break the calmness you have. If she's ever having a bad day, she comes to you. You oddly have an aura that helps her calm down.

When Welt saw not one but TWO ice blocks containing people in it, he was shocked. However wasted no time in saving the two of you. Just like March you seemed to have lost your memories and he's determined to help you find out your past.

He sees you as his grandkid, and was even a bit protective of you at first. However seeing your calm nature and how smart you were in many situations calmed himself down. He's still worried if you go on missions but he trusts that you'll be protected.

He's not that surprised you act so differently to March when you two were both in ice however he does find it amusing in a way. You're still a teen so even if he does trust you now to go on missions, he wants you to update him.

Just like Dan Heng, he's thankful you're not only chill but don't cause problems, also you're rather mature for your age, if you were older then he'd definitely consider putting you in charge of the train if Dan Heng wasn't able too take charge. Considering you're age currently, only Dan Heng is in charge.

DIWNDJFEHW. Hopefully I'll be able to finish the next requests in the following days, I feel so bad for not being able to write them yet :,)

[reimagine7]

The Spotify playlist (Emily Sonnett x reader)

“Hey Linds!”

I greeted Lindsey when she entered in the backseat for our drive to training. I was driving while Sonnett, my girlfriend, was in the passenger seat. Music was being played on the radio and the breeze was great as the window was opened.

“Hey guys! If we get late you’ll be doing my laps.” Lindsey complained from the backseat. “If you were so worried you could have walked yourself to practice. You live literally three blocks from the stadium.” Lindsey laughed and replied. “And tired my legs before…”

“And now what? You don’t like my friends either?” Emily kind of yelled at me, interrupting Lindsey. With the outburst me and Lindsey looked in shock at Emily.

“Excuse me?” I asked, not quite getting what the outburst was about. “Nothing. I don’t want to fight. I’m just still mad.”

I laughed at this. I can’t believe she is still mad at it, I thought we had solved it before we left home.

“Babe, I already said I was sorry. I thought you’d understand.” “How can I understand that? I just ended the conversation because I was still processing. But I am hurt. You’re my girlfriend, you should be the first to support me.” I sigh at her answer, thinking on how I could solve this. “And I do. That has nothing to do with it.” “Of course it does. I’m still mad.” “Okay. And what can I do to compensate?” I asked.

She looked at me with a contemplative look. If she was really thinking it through it means she is really sad with it. I honestly didn’t think it was gonna be a big deal and I actually don’t understand why it is, but I can’t let my girlfriend be sad like that. 

I looked back by the rearview mirror at Lindsey who was sitting, quiet, confused and, may I risk saying it, very uncomfortable with the situation. We locked eyes and I just shook my head, mouthing an ‘later’ for her. She just nodded her head.

“Look, we arrived. I’ll try to focus at practice now, and we can talk later.”

With that she got out of the car and without even looking at us, got inside the training facility. Me and Linds got out of the car and I was prepared for the questioning.

“ don’t want to intrude if it is anything serious but, what happened? You guys fought?” “Kind of, I don’t know. If you ask me it is nothing serious, but Emily for sure thinks it is.” “Can I know?” “She forgot her phone at home today. So she got my phone to play her Spotify playlist on my Spotify. But it turned out that I don’t follow her on Spotify and she got mad.” Linds stopped walking and looked at me surprised. “Because you don’t follow her on Spotify?” “Yep.”

She burst out laughing at this.

“Right? And it got worse, because trying to defend myself I told her that I didn’t even know about it because normally we listen to music on her phone directly from her playlist, so when I’m using it I use to listen to my songs.” “How is this worse? I don’t get it.” “Well, from that, all she interpreted was ‘I don’t like your playlists’.” “Oh god, this is precious. Wait, you know she has, like, a lot of playlists right?” “I know.” I grumbled and continued the walk. “Including some she made just for you.” “I know and I love them. It’s just that I also like to listen to other songs.” “This is hilarious.” “Could you tell this to her?” “Oh no, you deal with your own problems.” “Thanks for the help.”

We entered inside the building and just as I closed the door a thought came to my mind.

“Wait, how do I follow someone on Spotify?” 

Lindsey started laughing at me.

“Are you sure you date Sonnett? She is like the queen of Spotify and you didn’t even know we can follow people on it.” “Well, I have other qualities that make me a great girlfriend.” “Not today.” “I’m always learning. But let’s go before we get late and I still have a plan to put into action.”

We went to the locker room and music could be heard inside of it. After only a few minutes I knew that it was Emily’s playlist that was being played. I sat in my locker to put my cleats on and Linds sat next to me. As soon as Emily saw us she talked to Ellie Carpenter out loud so everyone could hear, especially me.

“Thank you Ellie, for supporting me by listening to my Spotify playlist. You’re a true friend.”

Everyone looked confused at Emily, but brushed it off. Used to Emily's unusual behavior. I just shook my head. Till when she was gonna act like that? The answer for that, for a little bit more. Because next thing I knew she was coming toward me and Linds, but completely ignoring me.

“Linds, my dear friend, wants to be my partner during warm up?” Me and Lindsey were surprised by this question. “Really?” I asked, trying to see if she was serious.

Linds looked at me and back at Emily, probably thinking if she wants to enter inside this situation. Me and Emily always warmed up together, even before we started dating. Is our tradition. I kept looking at Emily to see if she was gonna say anything, but she avoided my eyes. I just shrugged and nodded at Lindsey, letting her know that she could go and that I wouldn’t be mad.

I ended up warming up with Tobin and didn’t talk with Emily during the whole practice. She would ignore me every chance she could. When we were next to each other in line during the exercise, during water break when I would ask her for my water bottle, during lunch time and during gym. I already had enough of this situation, she was overreacting about it. I was okay with her just getting a bit mad about it at first and then she would ask me to do something to compensate for it. Fine. But changing our tradition and ignoring me like that, it was way too much. If she wants to ignore me and pretend that I don’t exist, okay. I can do it too.

As soon as practice ended I showered, changed my clothes and grabbed my stuff. I just bought a simple backpack, so it was light. Emily was outside leaning on the car, talking with Linds about something funny. I went toward them, grabbed the car keys and gave it to Linds, she looked at me confused and I explained.

“I’ll walk back to the apartment. You can drive back with the car.” “But you live far.” Lindsey replied. Emily, confused with the situation asked. “Babe, what are you doing?” “Oh, now you talk. I’m not about to be ignored in my own car. I’ll walk back home.” “It’s far, come with us. I’ll talk. It was just…” 

But I interrupted her before she could say anything else.

“It’s okay. The walk will be good. See you later.”

With that I left them behind and started my way back home. It'll probably take an hour to get to the apartament, but this way I’ll get some time to calm down and I hope Emily will think about the way she was acting.

Emily pov

Y/n had just turned around and walked away from us. She decided she was gonna walk back home even though we live over 7 miles away. It’s not that long if you drive by car, but she is walking and we have just trained.

“This is stupid. She is overreacting.” “Is she?” Lindsey asked. “What do you mean?” “I would be extremely pissed as well if my girlfriend ignored me on purpose during the whole day.” “It's not like that, I was…”

But Lindsey interrupted me.

“Sonnett! I’ll say this because I’m your friend, so I can. Shut up and think about what you did. One thing is to argue with her about that stupid Spottify playlist and mock her about it. Now ignoring her and making a fool out of her is another one completely different.”

What does she mean by ‘making a fool out of her’, the only thing I did was pretend I was mad at her. She knows I was not actually mad. Didn’t she?

“Sonnett, think how would you have felt if you had tried to talk with her and she ghosted you.” “Heartbroken. Alone.” “Even though you were kidding in the beginning. You did it for 8 hours straight, personally.” “Shit! I crossed the line this time, didn’t I? Dammit. Come on, we will get her on the way.”

We get inside the car and drive our way back home. I kept my attention on the road and on the sidewalk to see if I saw her, but nothing. I left Linds at her house and got back on the road. I got to the apartment and she was nowhere to be found. Of course she would take another way back, she didn’t want to get in the car. She knew if we had passed through her we would have stopped. So I sat at the front door and waited for her.

A little over an hour passed and she turned the street corner. I stood up and waited for her to get close. While she was getting close I took a moment to look at her, her expression was a mixture of emotions. She had her jaw clenched, signaling she was mad, but her eyes betrayed her, they were red, meaning she had cried and worse I was the reason for that.

“What? You forgot the keys?” 

She asked without even looking at me. She passed through me and opened the door and got inside. I enter behind her, close the door and before she could go farther I hold her hand turning her toward me.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” “So why did you do it?” “You know why. But I wasn’t really mad I was just messing. But it got out of hand.” “ What exactly are you apologizing for?” “For the way I treated you.”

She let out a sigh and hugged me. I hugged her back and pressed kisses all over her, ending on her lips.

“I don’t like when you cry. Sorry, I thought you knew I was not actually mad.” I said caressing her cheeks. “I knew at the beginning, but then you didn't even look my way. You broke our tradition and ignored my questions like I was a ghost. It hurt.” “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Argue with me, fight with me, prank me, whatever, but don’t ever ignore me again. I felt awful and like I was an idiot because of it.” I knew she was hurt from what happened, she almost never cried, I even now, her eyes were red and with tears. “I promise.” “Now give me a hug.”

I laughed and hugged her again. I was still enjoying the moment when she pushed me and said.

“And I’m sorry as well. I know you had your reasons, I’m not devaluing your feelings. I…” But I interrupted her. “Doesn’t matter anymore, I shouldn’t have done what I did.” “I know, we already talked about it. Anyway, on the way I did something.” 

“You walked over 7 miles in only an hour and still had time to do something?” “I didn’t walk. Tobin left me in the back block at that park we go sometimes. I walked back after I finished this.” “Here I was patiently waiting for you and you were just at the park.” “Stop mumbling. As I was saying… in the way I made you this.”

Y/n showed me her phone. When I got a better look of it, she was on her Spotify profile, in it had a playlist called Emily.

“You made me a Spotify playlist? For me?” “Yeah, it’s not made of your favorite songs. But I tried to put in it songs I hear when I’m thinking of you. Songs that remind me of you.”

I started to get emotional.

“But you don’t do playlists. Why did you do it?” “Because I know Spotify playlist is your love language. I am sorry for not following you, I promise I didn’t even know that was even a thing. But I like your playlists, I do. Especially the ones you made for me.”

“I’m sorry I overreacted. It was stupidity.” “A little bit. But it’s you, and I respect that you think this is something important. So… I followed you and all your playlists. And I’ll do my best to keep track of whether you created a new one or not.”

I pull her on a crushing hug and passionate kiss. I have my own playlist now. Can you believe this? And better yet, my own girlfriend who made it.

“Thanks. Now, come one. I want to hear my playlist. Did you know nobody ever made me a playlist before? This is so cool.”

I grabbed my phone that was already connected to the bluetooth and entered Spotify to play the playlist. I searched for her name and entered so I could select the playlist. But before I could enter Y/n hit my arm slightly and when I looked at her to ask why, she had a shocked look on her face.

“I can’t believe this. Are you for real?” “ What?” “You ignore me the whole day, you discuss with me because I don’t follow you. But you don’t follow me either on Spotify?” “What are you talking ab…”

When I looked at my phone again my eyes wided, indeed I wasn’t following my girlfriend on Spotify. Shit!

“Look, in my defense…” “No, no defense. You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” She argued back. “Come on babe. Don’t do that. Until today, you didn’t even have a playlist. Why would I follow you?” “Why? Let me repeat what you said to me earlier “because you’re my girlfriend”.”

She has a point! A big one.

“Dammit. Sorry?” “I can’t believe this. You owe me a massage now.” “Why?” “Is that or the couch? Your choice.”

I gave her a look, checking if she was telling the truth. But when I saw she wasn’t going to back off I made the wisest decision.

“I’ll get the oil. Can we just put the playlist to play first?��� “Okay, but I think you would rather put the second one.” “Second? You made me two playlists?”

“Yeah, the first one is for when we are apart and I miss you.” “Oh, this is cute, I love it babe. And I love you.”

I hugged her and gave her a kiss. She broke the kiss and started walking toward the bedroom.

“Oh, and the second is for when we are together…. in the bedroom.”

My eyes widened again, this time full of lust. She smirked at me and entered the room already taking her shirt off. I was fast to press play on the second playlist and brought the music box to the room. Let’s just say she got the massage and something more.

[princeescaluswords]

One thing I don’t think I saw much of in the pushback against ‘the curtains are just blue’ refusal to analyze media is how much of those spaces had been filled with extremely forced meta. So much of tumblr had seen the ‘there’s going to be a REAL final episode/season of Sh3rlock here’s the clues!!!’ Bad faith analysis on here that it’s the least shocking thing to me that people turned against it. But I love analysis, and am so glad to see accounts discussing media, themes and characterization honestly.

Having said that, the intensity of st3rek shippers trying to force readings on the movie is… very indicative of why I distrust a lot of so called fandom academics.

I have two anecdotes that might provide insight into how I approach "bad meta" which might be useful to you.

In second grade in music class, I got into a meaningless argument with a classmate about the Bible -- I think it was about the proper day of worship; he was a Seventh Day Adventist -- and it got so loud that the teacher scolded us. After class, the teacher talked to me about the right way to argue, and she said something that stuck with me. I was complaining about how me and the other boy could see two different things in the same book, and she said "People can make the Bible or any book mean anything they want if they take a small enough piece of it by itself. You can only find the real meaning by looking at the book as a whole." In other words, context matters. The blue curtains cannot signify depression unless the narrative is at least partially about the evolution of mental states.

Flash forward to graduate school, and I'm taking a course in literary theory, and out of frustration with Derrida, I ask the teacher how anyone can possibly tell if a reading has any value or not. and he replied "Ask yourself if the interpretation holds up over the course of the narrative." In other words, if the blue curtains mean something specific in a particular scene, does that meaning remain consistent?

I use these ideas when looking at media criticism. Does the proffered meta fit within the overall context of the narrative and does the proffered meta remain reliably applicable?

Let me give you an example of a meta that simply fails to meet both criteria: "Stiles helped Derek, Peter, and Isaac search for Erica and Boyd over the summer between Seasons 2 and 3." This should have immediately been dismissed as fancy but it has become almost a given among Sterek shippers.

The idea doesn't fit within any aspect of the show. It doesn't fit within the context of Stiles's character. Even if you believe that he had a change of heart about leaving Erica and Boyd with the Argents as he did in Master Plan (2x12), why would he choose to try to find them with Derek (who got them into this as well as tried to kill Lydia), Isaac (who physically attacked him and wanted to kill Lydia), and Peter (who actually attacked Lydia and used her to resurrect himself)? Why wouldn't he ask Scott? And if he was convinced that Scott wouldn't help -- even though he had several conversations with Scott about helping in the past -- why would he not tell Scott about the threat of the Alpha Pack?

In addition, none of the other characters' actions make sense in that context either. Derek "Not you." Hale doesn't act like he welcomes or believes in Stiles's help. Peter "And yet you've only had an hour" Hale doesn't mention that in their scenes together. Isaac doesn't use it when he's fighting with Stiles for Scott's attention. Vernon "But we're not friends" Boyd doesn't seem grateful, unless you think that none of his pack mates would tell him about what Stiles did for him and Erica (or you think that Stiles wouldn't remind him.) The premise doesn't fit with anything we see on the screen.

So, it's just a meaningless, harmless head canon that people do for fun, right? Except this meta -- and others like it -- turned out not to be meaningless and absolutely not harmless.

This meta and other metas like it fed into the Sterek relationship but it also transformed that relationship into a scheme designed to undermine Scott McCall's place as lead protagonist. Alongside such meta as "Ultimate Sacrifice Stiles," "Spark Stiles," and "Sinister Tree Wizard Deaton," it created a phantom dichotomy -- that the true conflict of Teen Wolf was between the usurper Scott and the rightful rulers, the Hales, and that Stiles's loyalty was the key which would ultimately determine who came out on top. These bad metas justified worse metas such as the Schism (where the central relationship of the show would end in violence) and the Anakin Complex (where the essential themes of the show -- the power of compassion and the rejection of revenge -- would be revealed as sources of corruption). It culminated in the Unreliable Narrator Scott theory, which argued with an entirely straight face that everything we watched for 100 episodes was ... not actually what happened in the story.

And they caused harm. This meta complex's desire to decenter and delegitimize a hero of color played into every unjust trend that has ruled Hollywood since there was a Hollywood. It led people to dismiss entire seasons as incapable of value because a secondary antagonist-turned-protagonist wasn't in it and made people hate the movie vehemently before it even premiered. It caused Poseygate, where the lead actor of the heroic protagonist finally came out and said those interpretations were wrong and that wasn't what the story was about and certain viewers lost their fricking minds. No one can say that real people -- including Tyler Posey -- haven't been attacked socially by individuals supported and encouraged by this supersystem of bad meta.

So, yeah, there should be more pushback against bad faith meta, against the idea that 'head canons' can never cause problems, against racist (and sexist and homophobic and decadent) ideas being introduced into fandoms, against the idea that any and all fandom behavior is permissible. And it's not an onerous request to suggest that we test meta against the standards of context and consistency.

[eroticcannibal]

I’ll just get this out of the way: I believe in transandrophobia or whatever people want to call it, I believe in listening to trans mens experiences.

BUT. I cannot stand most of the big people on here who discuss it for reasons similar to the recent post you made about how privileged women still experience violence.

I once saw a thread of trans men all saying that cis white women who fear violence and being kidnapped murdered, shouldn’t fear that, and that any cis white woman who is scared of misogynistic violence has just been brainwashed by mainstream true crime and crime shows, and a couple people said “lol they don’t want you why are you scared”.

I am a white cis girl (I’m also a trans guy but that’s not super relevant rn lol). I fully know my privilege and frequently have discussions along the subject of white privilege with friends of color. I don’t shy away from the topic.

but I have almost been kidnapped twice in the short 18 years I’ve been on this planet. One of my earliest memories is that experience in a shopping mall. Every cis girl I know, white or not, has had real life experience at least once with this kind of thing.

and when I saw that thread, it made me feel ill. To me it feels like so many other trans guys on here decided that the “being a man doesn’t make you bad” doesn’t apply to any other privileged group because they didn’t want to be seen as deniers of other forms of privilege. I also saw an entire thread where a shit ton of trans guys were literally saying that, because white cis women are the physical “vessels of the white race”, then apparently we are not at risk of domestic violence because cis white men need us to keep their dream of a white supremacist world alive. and many people responded with righteous outrage just to be dismissed as “well they are just trying to defend white women”.

the fucking rampant misogyny in these spaces is so fucking hard to deal with, and they complain all day about how people ignore issues men have, then turn around and act like one form of privilege means your other experiences of oppression don’t matter.

so long story short thank you for those posts I’ve been so ducking exhausted lately trying to find a balance between discussing transandrophobia with other transmascs, and protecting my mental health from all the misogyny in those spaces. it’s so fucking tiring.

U get it. U get it. And yeah this sickening attitude towards women is rampant in spaces that support the idea of transandrophobia (and honestly I think this most recent wave of "progressive" misogyny is squarely on trans men who believe in transadrophobia, and insay that as one of them) I wasn't sure if I was gonna call out that group specifically myself but since u bring it up!

Also I think we saw the same post cus that sounds like one of a few that set me off lol

Like im not even shocked at ur experiences there. I have experienced and seen some SHIT while playing the role of a white cis woman. And it was all normal. The women who raised me to always be on guard did that for a reason. The distrust of men among white women isnt from brainwashing, its from knowing half your friends were molested by their male relatives and seeing their mothers get beat every evening.

But also that other example you discuss... now I've not seen it in these spaces specifically but I have seen *some* people dismissing violence against white women due to something something white supremacy and just. Its truly sickening. Its evil. (And shows a fundamental misunderstanding of white supremacy, female subjugation is an intrinsic part of it).

And yeah like you say. Any time someone brings attention to any of this shit its "how dare you defend WHITE women". As if they arent still women.

And especially when the social space i occupy still overlaps with the experiences considered that of white women, when I'm facing these justified fears of violence (again) in my day to day life.... yeah. Its fucking exhausting. When the spaces that claim to support my experiences as a man dismiss my experiences and fears because those are the experiences and fears of icky white women. (When they arent even mutually exclusive categories, and even people like me and the most cis of cis women have more in common than difference)

[azrielsbitches]

I just found your blog and oh my god im already in love with your writing and the ocs you've created I-

I just need more djdfgijfh

Could you write something about when they all go rescue lyla? Only if you want to, but I imagine this to be so fun to read, i'd love to see this written by you :) ❤

A/N: hiii :) I officially passed my last nursing final and I graduate on Friday! I'm hoping to get some writing done before my vacation next week so keep an eye out and send some requests if you'd like!!

lyla's headcannons

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

Everything hurt. My malnourished body was covered in bruises and my skin on my back was torn from the whipping my father had just used to punish me. 

He had been the most furious I had ever seen him. After offering me to the heir to the Autumn Court, he had left us alone to ‘get to know one another.’

Eris had seemed troubled by my appearance, specifically the Faebane collar locked around my neck that had been there longer than I could remember. He had asked me a few questions about my life in the Hewn City and I had answered as honestly as I could without outright telling him about the near constant abuse I faced everyday here. He saw right through me. 

He had left just a few hours ago without agreeing to my father’s proposal and that had infuriated him. He blamed me, thinking I had done something to displease Eris. 

And now, here I was, locked in my bedroom once again and not healing due to the collar around my neck. This was the most pain I had ever been in.

Just before I passed out from the pain, I heard yelling coming from down the hall. I struggled to push myself up into a sitting position, straining to hear who was brave enough (or stupid enough) to argue with my father. 

“If he’s lying, then just let me search the house,” a female voice snarled.

“You have no right!” my father boomed, the voices getting louder as they got closer and closer to my room. “You haven’t lived here for over 500 years. You failed me as a daughter and you are not welcome here.”

Daughter? I had a sister?

“Yes,” the female hissed. “I failed you as a daughter so you sired a new one? And tried to sell her off to Eris as soon as she came of age? You’re disgusting.”

“Uncle,” a new male voice stepped into the conversation. More family I was unaware of? “Open the door… now.”

This new male, my cousin if I understood correctly, sounded powerful. My father was silent for a moment before opening the door to my bedroom with the key he kept around his neck at all times.

The door swung open and a blonde female with kind brown eyes stepped in first. She gasped in horror before rushing towards me and I couldn’t help but try to scramble away from her. I didn’t get very far and felt the wounds on my back start to bleed again. 

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Mor.”

I don’t know why I believed her right away, but I did. I stayed silent, however, as more people filed into the room. 

A tall male with dark hair and purple eyes was next in. This had to be Rhysand, the High Lord that father always complained about. I could feel the power coming off him. This male was my cousin? Why hadn't my father ever mentioned that?

Two males with large wings stepped in next, one with red siphons and the other with blue. Both of their faces looked shocked at the sight of me, as if they couldn’t believe that I actually existed.

The one with the shorter hair and blue siphons made eye contact with me and he froze up instantly. I felt something faintly pull at my ribs, almost like an invisible string was trying to get my attention.

“Is this how you treat your children, Keir?” Rhysand asked, disgusted.

“It was a necessary precaution,” my father sneered at everyone in the room before fixing his gaze upon Mor and I. Mor stepped in front of me so our father couldn’t see me. “After what happened with you I couldn’t risk her becoming a slut and whoring out to any male that looked her way.”

At that statement, all hell broke loose and the winged male with the blue siphons grabbed my father and threw him to the ground before beginning to pummel him with his fists. 

I gasped, shocked at how quickly my father went down. He had always seemed invinsible to me and seeing him be overpowered like this was overwhelming.

“Azriel!” the High Lord yelled out after a minute. “Stand down.”

I could see it took a lot of restraint for Azriel to step away from my father. He was breathing so heavily and he had a wild look in his eyes. The other winged male stepped between the two to ensure neither of them would attack again.

Azriel turned to me and I quickly glanced away.

“Lyla,” Mor grasped my hand and I jumped, startled by the touch. “It’s Lyla right?”

I nodded shakily.

“Who are you?” I needed her to confirm who she was to my face in order to actually believe it.

“I…” she seemed to struggle for the words. “I’m your sister.”

“I have a sister…?”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “If I had known you existed I would have never allowed this to happen to you.”

“It’s not your fault,” I whispered, trying to reassure her. 

“I’m not letting you stay here,” she told me, determined. “You can stay with me… in Velaris. If you want to.”

“You will do no such thing!” our father exclaimed, finally having got off the floor. “Rhysand you will not take another daughter from me. I forbid it.”

“Your daughter,” the High Lord spat at him. “Is of age and can do whatever she pleases. And even if she decides to stay here, I will ensure she isn’t treated like an animal.”

My gaze kept bouncing between all the new people in the room. It was extremely overwhelming.

“Lyla?” Mor got my attention again. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” I asked. I had never been asked before.

“Yes,” she smiled at me. “If you wish to leave and never see Keir or this city ever again, I will take you away right now.”

“Promise?” I whispered, crying now.

“I promise.”

“I want to go with you,” I told her and her smile got even wider. “But… you’ll have to unchain me.”

Her smile faded slightly, glancing at the collar around my neck that was then connected to my bed. Azriel seemed to react to my statement as well, trying once again to pounce on my father, but Rhysand held him back.

Mor set to work and freed me from the bed and then the collar from around my neck. I hadn’t been without the collar for I don’t know how long. I could feel my powers returning. Going from nothing to everything rushing back all at once was overwhelming. 

I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt that invisible string attached to my ribs pull again. I followed the bond and found myself attached to Azriel. Was this what I thought it was? Was that why he had been so aggressive towards my father?

“Okay,” Mor helped me stand up. “Let’s go.”

And then we weren’t in my bedroom anymore. We were in a house on what seemed like a mountain top. And we were looking down at a beautiful city. Velaris. I’d never dreamed I would actually see it.

“Welcome home,” Mor beamed at me.

[shatterspin]

Oh, God, I never saw someone talk about Ninjago's Arabic dubs, and let me tell you as someone who grew up watching them, they are absolutely horrible. Their voices are either too squeaky or too deep; their VAs don't suit them, and as you said, they keep changing. When I was little, I obv didn't understand English enough to watch the English dubs (considering that I was 4-5 when the show started), and when I finally started watching the English dubs (I was about 11-12, and it was Hunted), I was shocked by how good the VAs are??? Like omg they actually have consistent VAs??? that actually suit them??? I think that the problem with the Arabic dubs is that they always put women to voice little kids, teenage girls, and women, and very, very old men for (male) teenagers and adults. This way, a very old woman in the show might end up sounding like that random five-year-old, and boys all sound the same. They also frequently mispronounce names; for example, they pronounce Cole as Cool? Faith as Feeth (with a soft th) or something similar? Spinjitzu ends up sounding like a keyboard smash? AND they always translate puns and jokes word by word to the point where the joke isn't even a joke anymore; it's just a random statement that doesn't make any sense. There's also the fact that they even mispronounce some words (I remember Cole in Hunted once said "يبدو لذيذًأ" but the VA said "يبدو لزيزًأ") or they say some words in the Egyptian dialect (which I don't really mind tbh, but please stick to one thing).

I have never seen Crystallized in the Arabic dub, but wth happened to their voices?

WAIT, I also remembered something. "Tragic" scenes usually end up really funny in the Arabic dubs, and I've never realized that they were supposed to be sad until I got a tumblr account and saw people saying that they cried watching them (e.g. Zane's first sacrifice, the Overlord possessing Garmadon, etc.)

I'm sorry this thing got too long, but I've always wanted to talk about this to someone other than my siblings

Have a nice day!

arabic dubs are always a mixed bag. i rly can’t complain about lloyds voice actress because she does attempt to make her voice less high pitched when lloyd is aged up. how i think this all works though is that the voice actors are part of a group/company and other companies who want voices for dubbing would have to hiring them as a group rather than separately getting the voice actors (i assume it’ll just be more expensive this way) which would explain the constant changes between the voices actors.

the main jokes that rarely would get translated would be the ones that make a joke using english words. like the usually “duck” gag that happens in cartoons cant rly be translated to arabic so they usually don’t. sometimes the jokes in english would end up being completely different jokes in arabic but i enjoy those because it does show that they’re putting in more effort for it to make sense for arab audiences (this whole paragraph is me talking abt cartoons in general)

i also don’t mind the occasional dialect slip tbh but it is weird when it happened when they’re saying characters names (in the last clip i posted jay refers to kai as “قاي" ? who’s قاي 😤??)

i had to go watch the episodes you referred to, and for zane’s first sacrifice honestly they did a decent job i personally enjoyed it BUT GARMADON GETTING POSSESSED… it’s something alright… i wouldn’t say the original was “tragic” but it was a bit more serious but the arabic dub isn’t serious or funny it’s just.. it’s something

MY MAIN QUESTION TO U ANON IS! how did u even watch this on TV?? with the arabic dubs only covering some of the episodes and not all of them, just how was is it like on tv? i do remember that sometimes on arabic cartoon networks some shows that had the plot progressing each episode would sometimes be aired out of order, so was ninjago like that??

[dragonballwish]

I really don't think Vegeta and Bulma was a great ship. It felt like it was out of nowhere and just done to justify the existence of another Super Saiyan in Trunks for the sake of the whole Terminator reference. I think Gohan x Videl is cute but that their relationship in Z was underdeveloped, which also leads me to question why so many seem to dislike the idea of Krillin and 18 for the same reason? Idk. I think it's weird that GoChi gets so much hate because Goku's "always gone training" and Chi-Chi is "always complaining about it" when we see literally the exact same stuff happen with Vegeta and Bulma and no one questions that relationship at all. I think Krillin is very shippable and think it's kind of bizarre that the guy who's the most caring, least self-focused, and most attentive s/o in the entire cast somehow is determined to be the least-deserving of any romance, even his canon one. I feel like people in the fandom really try to erase Goku and Krillin's bond, between the weird push to declare Vegeta as Goku's "real best friend" and also the weird claims I've seen lately that Vegeta's death on Namek and more recently Meerus' death in the Super manga motivated Goku more than Krillin's death did, to say nothing of seeing people think Krillin has zero skill as a fighter and no real value as a fighter (which has a very, very weird similarity to what the guys who used to abuse him at Orin used to say.) I think that Tien is asexual. Like, canonically, I think he's asexual. I think shipping Piccolo is a bit weird but mostly harmless so long as it's not the weird "cheating" context some like to use. I think we need a Krillin slice-of-life comedy spinoff.

This is a lot to unpack but legit legit I agree with most of it—

Vegebul was pretty random I agree. We saw none of the actual development. I think the fact that Toriyama had initially planned for vegeta to stay dead on namek (or so I’ve heard) might actually play into that. There are only two saiyans of age and so vegeta was really the only one that made sense to have bulma’s bb daddy be … I guess. Like I understand the logic but I agree that it was pretty random. At first it was less of a ship too and mostly like baby daddy vegeta and rich irresponsible mom bulma and they don’t interact ????? In my opinion …. Bulma is kinda a character I’m shocked doesn’t get shipped more randomly since she is the one who canonically is kinda comedically thirsty over hot guys she sees (like zarbon or uhhhh the blue guy from red ribbon army) love that about her though

Hanvi is cosmetically very cute but I won’t lie, I didn’t ship it ever like at all. As a kid I didn’t like Videl and as an adult I didn’t really have any feelings towards her. Gohan is like. I grew up next to him he is my brother.. so I want the best for him … so I don’t know I was always miffed about it but then pan in the new movie finally turned me around I like pan ….. so basically I don’t ship it but I would feel bad to erase son pan from existence in an AU (which I would do anyways sorry)

Uhh gochi haters are *weird* like Fr. I don’t get the hate ??? Like I understand thinking it’s mid and not caring for it or thinking they fit with other people more but other than that there is literally nothing to hate unless you’re jealous ??? Like jealously wish goku was with someone you self-insert better into or something. Because 1. Chichi and goku are both hot ??? 2. They clearly love each other and their temperaments fit each other and they’re both into it. … 3. Everyone complaining probably got into the series years AFTER it was already canon and gohan was born so like it’s all they know why are they so upset ? Makes no sense. The match with vegebul I feel though I can agree that the situations are different especially financially.

Uhm honestly personally I only ship krillin with 18 because they are so obviously perfect and love each other but. I agree so much … krillin is literally the perfect guy and everyone passes over him for what ???? He’s ideal man and everyone acting like he don’t exist .. logically I know it’s because he’s kinda normal in a world of really strong personalities but like. Wtf y’all he’s the perfect character and person and everything in every way.

Having seen my blog and how much I talk about krillin and goku being besties (or at least reblog and talk in tags) I’m sure you can guess my stance on this but. I am SO SICK AND TIRED OF PEOPLE SAYING VEGETA IS GOKU’S BEST FRIEND. KRILLIN IS THE BEST FRIEND ALWAYS HAS BEEN AND ALWAYS WILL BE. Y’all okay I’ve never seen people say vegeta’s death in namek meant more to goku than krillin’s but like Fr that’s the most incorrect cold turkey take I’ve ever heard of in my whole life Fr. Like ??? Goku was just kinda lookin at him and then buried him with hardly any real remorse. Like obviously he was effected but it was mostly by the “okay so suddenly this is my heritage and I am a saiyan and my whole birth family was killed by this guy huh” and the shock of watching this bastard arrogant bastard cry to his death. I love vegeta but there is no way that made goku snap or anything when goku instantly went ballistic when krillin was murdered in front of him without a trace to take back him. Absolute BS. Also anyone saying krillin has no skill as a fighter can meet me in the streets 💪🤧

Okay yeah okay I also headcanon tien as aroace, actually. I wanna say I think it feels pretty canon too considering everything about where he is in canon like … he disappears for training like a hermit right ? His worldly desires are not present methinks

Piccolo ships weird me out too but actually since they lay eggs and fertilize them too, apparently, they are canonically asexually reproductive beings and therefore I don’t think their genetics would need romance to continue populating? So I just cannot get behind namekian ships or piccolo ships. It doesn’t help that the bigger piccolo ships feel morally gray ? I don’t know

And lastly. You’re right. If I don’t get a wholesome slice of life krillin spin-off I might have to raid the toei offices.

I am so sorry this got so long thank you for the awesome super thought out ask

[glompcat]

I’ve been watching really trashy TV as I clean - in this case Murder House Flip - and I love how obvious the fake narrative is.

First of all the show is misnamed. They are not flipping houses (ie renovating with the intent to up the price for sale) but rather fixing up a room or two for homeowners with no intention of leaving.

The gimmick obviously is that a murder happened in every home they work on, and they try to bring in some true crime elements to it all, but really the through line of each ep is “if we fix the house up the owners will forget about the brutal murder that happened in this place.”

What is interesting, and is keeping me watching, are how actually desperate for change these homeowners are (also they don’t seem to be paying for these renos, the show appears to have given the hosts a set budget for their work on each house).

They learned about these murders at varying points in their ownership. Some were told while closing on the house (so before things were finalized but while they were already invested) others were told about the crime after everything was finalized.

All of them were attracted to their particular home in the first place because it was surprisingly affordable for the area it is in/it’s size/etc.

Several episodes now have had the owners ask for specific places connected to the crimes committed in their home be what is changed and reclaimed for them.

Be it a couple who were told the murder weapon was still stashed bricked up in their fireplace so they wanted it gone (it wasn’t, the reno folks confirmed it while doing the demo), a couple who pointed to scratches on the bottom of a sink while explaining they had read up on the crime and saw the murderer had cleaned a knife there and they can’t stop thinking about that when they see the scratches so they need a new sink, so on and such forth (one house involved a teen who had grown up sleeping in the same room the previous family that lived there’s daughter was shot in when the father went on a murder suicide rampage, and she said she had lifelong nightmares as a result so like... honestly the reno folks giving her a really cool high end bedroom may not change the history of the room but it sure is something).

All of this is obs real, but what keeps getting me is the fake over the top THIS IS THE WORST MURDER IN A HOUSE WE HAVE BEEN TO YET the hosts do every single fucking episode. Like sure the Golden State Killer murdered a couple in this home. You’ve also been to and fixed up the personal home of another serial killer - one who killed people in her house and buried the bodies in her yard. So no, the house where those two people died is not THE WORST ONE YET compared to the yard you landscaped where Dorothea Puente had buried seven of her victims. Nor is the house where a guy’s throat was slit by his ex girlfriend and he bled out THE MOST SHOCKING CRIME you heard of when in a previous season you fixed up a house where a guy had sawed his wife into little pieces in the bathtub and was in the process of cooking her body parts on the stove when the police arrived (the neighbors had complained about the smell) and arrested him. AND YET every damn episode THE CRIME IS THE MOST SHOCKING ONE THE HOSTS EVER HEARD OF.

Also every damn time they do a reno in a room a murder took place in they claim to have found blood in the space and like, come on, stop being sensationalist about the stain you found while pulling up a ratty rug.

[apparitionsxanonymous]

Living (Part One)

Apparition Anonymous is a collection of fictional stories told from the POV of the Grim Reaper as they guide newly departed souls to the Afterlife. Enjoy, and thank you for reading.

It had been a long day for me. I saw so many newly departed souls, and just about every one of them was upset. I didn’t blame them for being shaken about being dead. But, according to the Living World, dying was simply part of “the circle of life.”

Death was expected to happen to everyone, and they all knew it could strike at any moment. Anyone who was still alive knew not to take life for granted, but that was always easier said than done.

Somewhere along the lines, living people grew selfish. They had tunnel vision about the things they wanted and went for them—or they didn’t go for them at all.

I wasn’t here to judge who did a good job living and who didn’t because who can say one life was better than another? Every life is unique.

Besides, even if I could judge and some lives were better than others, what good would that judgment do now? People were supposed to find peace in death, not mull over what they did or didn’t do when they were alive.

That was the toughest part, though. Many people who arrived here were so concerned about their previous lives. Someone they left behind, something they didn’t get to do. The list goes on.

It was my job to change their thinking. Fate had spoken, and while we didn’t know why they had to die when they did, there was no going back. I had to help them see the good in it as best they could and continue on.

Now the soul sitting across from me at the table sipping her tea gingerly, she had entered the room, acting as though we had been good friends for a long time.

She was young, and if you asked any living being in the Living World, she was much too young to die. There were no age rules Death needed to follow, but people in their physical forms didn’t understand that.

Regardless, she didn’t seem upset in the slightest that she was here. In fact, she seemed already at peace. So, I wondered what she was doing in this room with me.

Although, I shouldn’t complain. She wasn’t depressed or angry with me for killing her, so I took what I could get.

“What type of tea is this?” she asked, breaking the silence after so long.

“It’s regular tea,” I replied. “I don’t go fancy with it since your taste buds are fading. You wouldn’t be able to taste any of the flavors unless it was stronger.”

She smiled sweetly. “Well, it tastes delicious anyway.”

I tilted my head in confusion. Was she trying to butter me up for something? Maybe she wasn’t at peace, and she was gearing up to plead with me to go back to the Living World. Had I read her wrong?

“So, this is what the Afterlife is like, huh?” she asked, her gaze dancing around the empty room. “This isn’t exactly what I pictured.”

“It isn’t what anyone pictures, honestly,” I stated. “What did you think it would be like?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I ever really thought about it before. My parents were religious. They’d tell me all about what it would be like when we died. I needed to be on my best behavior if I wanted to have a good afterlife. When I was a child, I believed them. As I got older, I thought that sounded a little far-fetched. And now that I’m here… well, I realize they were wrong,” she explained. She landed her stare on me, chuckling at the last bit. “I don’t know what my mother will think when she arrives here.”

I smirked. “Your parents aren’t the only ones who think that. Everyone has a different interpretation about what they believe the Afterlife is like.”

“I didn’t think it would be anything. I thought I’d cease to exist,” she said. “You can believe my shock when I died, and you showed up.”

I nodded, though she wasn’t shocked at all. When I went to her body to bring her here, her soul stood over her physical form, watching it sleep. She seemed fascinated more than anything else but also a little relieved, too.

Many people were afraid of death because they thought they would cease to exist. It made their time running out seem more dire. So, when their soul left their physical form and they came to the realization they’re still here, they seem more accepting of their death.

“You wouldn’t believe how hectic my life had gotten,” she said.

“When I got sick, and I wasn’t able to do anything, I was somewhat relieved. It was a break, in a way. Not a good break, but I had a good excuse for why people couldn’t reach out and ask me to do things for them, you know?” she took another sip of her tea. “When I found out I didn’t have much time left, I was nervous, but I wasn’t scared. Does that make any sense at all?”

I nodded. “You wanted the relief of the end, I get that. There is nothing wrong with wanting to rest when you can no longer do anything productive in your physical form.”

“Physical form?”

“When you were alive.”

“You mean my body.”

“You are your soul. The body, as every living person calls it, is simply a host. It’s the soul’s physical form.”

She furrowed her brows, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “So, then, the body can’t do anything to the soul?”

“No, it’s separate. But obviously, if the physical form can no longer work, the soul needs to leave. It can’t do anything in the Living World without a host.”

“But how can a broken body kill a soul?”

© Rachel Poli, All Rights Reserved

Thanks for reading. Apparitions Anonymous is updated every Monday and Friday. If you enjoy my work and want to stay updated with my writing journey, please visit my Ko-fi page.

[shebadfuckk]

GTKM #2

My first serious relationship was in high school I was 16 and my boyfriend was 20 years old. Looking back once I reachedthe age 20 I was like yeah-no I cannot picture of myself dating a 16-year-old. But in the moment I was so full of myself, thinking that I was cool and popular for dating a guy in college. He was extremely racist which bothered me a lot. And once I voiced my concerns, he started getting really aggressive towards me.

It ended with him, breaking my rib and beating me up, it was the day of the Giants parade. The second time they won, in their four yearr span of winning. I believe it was 2012 they had just won the World Series two years before then 2010 but this was the day of the Giants parade the second time they won. We went to celebrate with a bunch of friends, and he got really drunk.

We got on Caltrain with a bunch of other people, and on our way back to the car, he accused me of flirting with a guy on the upper deck. I honestly was zoned out and had no idea who he was talking about, but he bent my arm so far backward, and told me he was going to break it if I didn’t tell him, and admit to my infidelity. I was really scared because it really felt like my arm was about to break the way he had it twisted, so I spat out an apology. The guy he claimed I was looking at saw what he was doing to me and started to walk down to our deck but as he did, our stop approached, and we got off the train.

We got off the train and headed to the car, which was parallel parked between two other cars. It was a very busy day for Caltrain, because of the ongoing parade. 

As he was trying to leave the area we were parked , he hit two parked cars, and that’s when I really started to worry. I said something about getting out of the car while it was driving and he had his arm across my chest, holding me down against the backrest the whole car ride back to his house. ( it was only about a five minute drive we lived pretty close to the train station.)

When we got home, he freaked the fuck out on me and was screaming at me in the driveway. I was frozen in fear and didn’t want to get out of the car at this point because I didn’t know what he would do. He yanked the door open so far that it bounced back and slammed into his back as he leaned in to grab me. He kept yelling “get the fuck out of the car, stop making a scene” and he pulled me out and slammed me onto the trunk of his Miata. The angle he threw me at sent my rib cage perfectly into the car and I instantly felt like I couldn’t breathe very well. Every breathe in and out hurt. Moving hurt, coughing hurt. I was shocked from the pain so I became pretty limp and he dragged me into the house. He must have grabbed my purse too which I don’t remember him doing because once inside he grabbed the two handles of my purse with each hand and ripped the purse in half, sending the contents of my purse flying, one of them being my slide phone. ( this was back in the day when phones had a full keyboard buttons, it was a slided up version)

This purse has been given to me by my mother who I’m not very close with. I had seen it in a shop and it was really expensive and I loved it so much it was the prettiest blue and white bag I’d ever seen at my age and she know I wanted it so bad even tho it was like 200 she went back to the store and got it for me and gave it to me on my birthday and I started crying. It was a very meaningful purse to me it wasn’t just a bad.

Anyways, he took a weight that he used to weight lift every day, took the battery out of my phone and smashed the battery and then smashed my phone. He dragged me over to the couch by my hair and held me down choking me out, screaming that when I got raped (I lost my virginity getting raped) I clearly wanted it and was asking for it, and screaming about how pathetic I was for complaining about how I lost my virginity. I don’t know how I lost my shoes but they weren’t on my feet anymore and I knew I had to run away so I just ran out the garage door, and down the street.

Now, this parade happened to be the day of Halloween the specific year that the Giants won. I remember it was the time of night where people had started trick-or-treating. And me, running away from a man with no shoes was really not looked at anything besides typical for Halloween night. Nobody was paying any mind to me, but I was really running for my life.. and I remembered thinking “if I die tonight I’ll be on the news and I wonder if anyone watching this happen would remember me.”

He inevitably caught up with me before I could realize, and had his arm around my neck, lifted me off the ground, trying to choke me out, all the while saying “ just come back, let’s talk about it” something along those lines.

I had tilted my chin down towards my chest to prevent him his arm from wrapping around my neck, but instead, it just wrapped around my mouth AND my nose, because his arm was big enough to cover both areas, and I ended up suffocating anyways. I had braces at the time, and he was holding my face so tight that my lips pressed into my braces and started bleeding. I don’t remember much after the fact, except thinking that nobody was helping me, and they probably thought it was a Halloween joke, but it was really all real, and I was terrified and about to die , trying to make my last breath, hold out as long as I could, while I struggled against his strength.

I don’t remember doing this, but apparently I kicked him in the balls while I was struggling and he fell to the floor. I most definitely passed out in between these events, because I went straight to black after his arm wrapped around my mouth, and I woke up to spitting blood over him, laying on the ground. (  which is when I realized my braces had to cut my lips.)

He lay their writhing in pain, and I just ran away as fast as I could, about 5 miles to my friends house, where he and his friends have been partying all night and told me I would be safe there, and if he tried to show up, they would all jump him.

I never saw much of him after that day, but I remember I had a backpack of his stuff at my house. (mind you I was still in high school at the time, and I had told my dad all the bruises came from cheer practice.)

 This particular instance, my dad didn’t believe me because a whole separate series of events that if you guys even read this far and want to hear how that happened I will tell you, but it’s kind of too much to write just for the sake of writing. But anyways, my dad dragged me to the garage where people would generally have talks if they were in trouble, so I interpreted it as I was in trouble, and had to say anything I could to get out of it. I told my dad a very vanilla story of what happened. And my dad ended up taking the guy to Starbucks bought him a coffee to give him his stuff back.

That always stuck with me because if I had a daughter that that happened to, I would want to kill somebody. But maybe it’s on me for not telling him the full story. Either way it was an extremely traumatic event and it wasn’t the first time he had hit me, but running 5 miles with a broken rib with some thing I felt very accomplished about. I could’ve died that day, and I honestly believe I would have if I didn’t effectively run away.

He tried to apologize five years later, and when I told him I didn’t want to fuck him again he immediately retract his apology and told me I was a desperate whore. I still never let go of that day and even though it wasn’t the first time I experienced violence, a part of me interpreted as the first time I did, because I was grown enough to know better.

It really doesn’t sound scary when I’m writing it on paper but recalling the actual memories seems like a horror movie. Anyways, that’s a vague recap of that situation and if you guys want to hear more, I will definitely tell you. I’m just currently using this as an outlet for all of my thoughts, and somehow that came to mind today.

[percontaion-points]

Packless chapters 9 & 10

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 9

“You know how that first blood claw came into being, dud? Because an alpha female gave up everything to her mate. Every inch of her power. She reduced herself to little more than an omega, all to help her mate, and to save her pack.”

I would complain about how weirdly sexist this is, but like… This story started off with a room full of females being forced onto their knees by males. So I don’t know what I’m expecting at this point. 

When I felt dozens of strange eyes settle on my boobs, I waded into the pool. I wasn’t going bare-assed for any of these bastards. 

“All off, dud,” one of Pearl’s friends called. “We don’t want your ugly undies floating around in our sacred pool.”

I’m pretty sure that forcing people to strip down is some form of sexual assault. 

But again, these people are forbidding her to be able to eat, and said “eating is a privilege”. So I don’t know why I expected for them to not be committing actions of sexual violence against others. 

“Like I said. No chance, but you earned an E for Entertainment.”

Chapter 9 summary: In the cave, Pearl shows Vail the cave drawings. They’re supposed to show the history of their species, but I’m honestly unimpressed with the entire thing. And her stupid story. Mainly, I’m hoping that this stupid book will get to the point… along with Pearl’s bullying. 

Eventually, she takes Vail to a waterfall. Everybody is stripping naked, and going under the falls, where the water forces them to shift. Pearl forces Vail to strip naked and to go under the falls, but to nobody’s surprise, nothing happens. 

What’s worse is that when Vail comes out, somebody’s stolen her shoes. So not only will she be forced to shlep back to the school (which was an hour by bus), but she’s going to have to do it barefoot. 

Chapter 10

But the next time I’d seen her, I’d been shaking myself dry and trying to avoid hitting the little omega who clutched my clothes with my swinging dick. 

[Image description: An image of actress Emma Stone. She is a white 20-something actress with dark red hair. She is wearing a yellow shirt, red lipstick, and red earrings. She has a look of disgust on her face. It is captioned with “I had to read this and so do you.” End description.]

“Miss Vail, since you failed to shift today, you unfortunately can’t ride on the school vehicles.” She checked a notebook in her hand, which had about a dozen names written on it. “You’re not the only one, so just remember to stick with the group. Nadine and Adam are seniors, and have both been through this before. They’ll lead the way.”

Yeah right. Who the hell would willingly go back to that fucking concentration camp? 

“You can’t walk twelve miles barefoot.”

I hope I speak for all of us when I say JFC. 

“Maybe it’ll help me shift. Shock therapy and all that.” She turned and nodded at Mrs. Gladstone. “See you back at school.”

Chapter 10 summary: The only consolation to all of this is that at least Jasper feels bad about forcing all of this onto Vail. He mopes about this for nearly two pages before he asks where she is. Somebody says that he saw Pearl taking her to the human toilets. (Shifters love to shit in the woods. Which is not a mental image I enjoy, thanks.) 

He goes over there, where some freshman is like “they’re hogging up the bathroom!” Jasper hears something that he won’t describe for the reader, and then he rips the door open. 

Inside, he finds Vail with the creepy dude from the first chapter. I forget his name, and Vail won’t tell Jasper, so I’m not sure that it matters. Jasper chases the boy away, and then demands answers from Vail as to why a stranger is in their territory. Vail refuses to answer. 

He then drags her over to the fancy bus that the alphas rode over on, and insists that she’s going to ride home “while sitting on his lap, and whispering in Jasper’s ear all about that boy”. The teacher shows up and insists that since Vail couldn’t transform, she has to walk the 12 miles (about 3 hours, according to google) back home with the other duds. Jasper insists that she’s going to ride with him, but Vail is like “No thanks” and storms off.