#i already have a headache thanks to therapy

[braveblackbutterfly]

Can we cancel today?

[willsimpforanyone]

Could you do a percy x nike!reader where the reader challenges percy to a sword fight and percy loses and the readers all cocky about it. And then percy decides to teach the reader a lesson and doesnt stop fucking her till she says hes a winner and like since reader is competitive she gets overstimulated? I need therapy what the hell is this ask

bestie we all need therapy here don't worry ur safe here

i'm gonna do an established relationship because it's just easier that way, and this is a she/her reader with feminine terms used

percy is a little bit of a mean dom, but he still checks in with the reader to make sure she's okay

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The man at the end of my blade was glowering at me like it was his job.

Percy's green eyes were reflecting in the shine of my sword, but I didn't need a mirror to know my smile was even brighter. I tapped the flat of the sword against his jaw.

"Sorry, babe, look like you need a little more practice," I grin, nodding towards a pair of 8 year olds fighting with blunted blades. "Maybe you should ask them for help?"

He rolled his eyes, capping Riptide and knocking my sword away from him. "I went easy on you."

I sheathed my sword at my side, raising my eyebrows at him in disbelief and smirking. "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did," Percy hisses, and I laugh at the behaviour of a stroppy teenager coming from my boyfriend of 20 years old.

Walking over to the burning offering bowl at the entrance to the arena, I drop in a little something as a 'thank you' to Nike. "You're drenched in sweat, you put actual effort into that fight, you're just bitter that someone might be able to beat you."

Rolling his eyes again so far back in his head I'm sure he's about to give himself a headache, Percy slings his arm over my shoulders as we walk to his cabin. "You're my girlfriend, I had to let you win, I'm a gentleman like that."

"Bullshit!" I cackle at his obvious attempts to dismiss his loss, but that would mean dismissing my victory and I would never have allowed that. "I'm a child of Victory incarnate, did you really think you could win when I have the spirit of winning in my blood?"

"We get it, you won, the whole world gets it," he sighs, dragging his feet. "Can you shut up about this now?"

I shake my head, still grinning like the fattest cat that had the cream already and has just discovered the can of tuna. "Absolutely not, I think it would be basically blasphemy if I were to stop talking about my victory over the most powerful demigod of our generation, mother would strike me down where I stand."

"Sounds like I'll just have to make you shut up." Percy drags me inside his cabin, slamming the door behind us and shoving me against the wall. His hand comes behind my head so I don't smack it on the wall and the butterflies in my stomach go insane at the caring gesture even when I'm pissing him off.

I barely have time to open my mouth before his lips are on mine, stealing any words I was about to say. My hands fly to the back of his head, keeping him kissing me and tangling in his slightly sweaty black hair. He perpetually tastes like sea salt and I moan very quietly.

It takes a second for my brain to kick into gear again, but I smirk against his lips and whisper into his mouth. "You'll have to do better than that, loser."

Percy growls. "Oh, I plan to."

The wall is suddenly no longer behind me and I shriek in surprise and glee as he drags me to throw me onto the bed, immediately pouncing on me and pinning me to the bed. His fingers work deftly to undo my belt and he sets my belt and sword carefully on the floor, along with my shoes.

Now free to do as he pleases, he dips his head into the crook of my neck, yanking at my sweatpants and dragging his nails down my legs along with the waistband, throwing them off. Without hesitation, he strips me of my underwear and I moan, a permanent smile living on my face.

"This feels more like a reward than a punishment, I won't lie," I smirk, leaning up on my elbows and looking up at him.

"No one asked for your opinion," he sighs, promptly shoving two of his fingers in my mouth. "Use your tongue for something worthwhile, hm?"

Unable to do anything else, I wrap my lips around his fingers, sucking and covering them in saliva. I teasingly bob my head a little, looking him directly in the eyes and taking his fingers as deep into my mouth as I can.

He smirks, shaking his head at my obscene behaviour. "Dirty girl." He pulls his hand away, inspecting his spit-covered fingers. "Good enough."

Clearly determined to render me incapable of speech, he immediately swirls his middle finger over my clit. My whole body jerks, upper body almost thrown forward at the sudden sensation. "Shit-"

Percy grins, drawing delicate but deliberate circles and radiating smugness. "Nothing to say? Is that all it takes to make you shut your smart mouth?"

Well, I couldn't let him think he'd won this round. I swallow harshly, flicking my hair out my eyes and smirking. "I could suck your dick if you wanted," I breathe out, voice thick with condescension. "Sort of a participation prize."

He scowls, and pushes two fingers into my pussy. The sudden feeling shoots through my body like electricity and I gasp, one hand flying to grip at his wrist. My head gets thrown backwards and a low moan comes from low in my throat.

His digits pump in and out at a speed I wasn't expecting and for a good minute, there are no words in my head. Not a single thought, just pleasure vibrating my bones and removing my ability to think.

"There we go," he purrs, other hand rubbing gently over my hip and stomach. "The attitude was unnecessary, huh?"

I laugh breathlessly, one hand gripping the wrist of the hand abusing my now-soaking pussy, the other raking through my hair. "I... I still won..."

"For fucks' sake-" Percy shuffles down the bed until his head rests between my legs. No ceremony, no anticipation, just his tongue against my clit as his fingers crook and stroke at my velvety walls.

The sudden increase in stimulation drags me bodily into my climax, orgasm rocking through my body and rendering me speechless. I slap a hand over my mouth to muffle my long, drawn out moans... and then my squeak of surprise as he doesn't stop.

"P-Percy?" I stutter, hips instinctively twitching away from him under his relentless attack.

Instead of answering, his eyes simply flick up to meet mine with a filthy smirk on his lips. His fingers don't stop, tongue lapping up my come as he scissors me open slightly. My thighs start trembling, and the hand that was over my mouth finds its home twisted into Percy's hair as he buries his face between my legs.

He doesn't let up, working his jaw and tongue over and into me. My sensitivity has every nerve on edge and it takes a slightly humiliatingly short length of time for my next orgasm to flood through me.

To his credit, Percy doesn't protest at the definitely painful grip I have on his head, withdrawing his fingers and cleaning me up with his tongue. Shakily, I lean back up on my elbows and look down at him, panting slightly.

"Whoa," I breathe, pulling him up from between my legs and pressing a messy, sloppy kiss to his lips. Then, because I really, truly do not know how to shut up... "Hell of a reward, baby, I'm glad you admitted I won."

The growl of frustration comes from low in his ribcage and with a delicious shiver, I realise I've fucked up.

"Admit I went easy on you." His voice is right in my ear, and without looking I know he's stripping down, the sound so familiar I instinctively part my legs like a Pavlov effect.

I shake my head, still panting and still trembling. "No, you didn't, I won fair and square, I beat you."

To his credit and my utter adoration, he pauses as he slips a condom on and looks directly at me. "Are you okay?" He asks, voice soft and sweet.

I kiss him quickly and nod. "Mhm, yeah, I'm okay."

The sudden switch back is unbearably attractive and he nudges his cock against my sensitive folds, the tip nestling just barely inside. "You're my girlfriend, I would feel bad if I won every single time we fought," he hisses. "I was being sweet and you're throwing it in my face." His cock slips in just an inch.

I'm already clenching down on him, feeling my own wetness trailing down over my ass. It's a struggle to be coherent when my whole body is poised to feel him. "N-No, you weren't, I won, you're just being a bitch."

Another inch inside and I gasp, every sense heightened and nails clinging into his shoulders desperately. "Say I let you win."

I shake my head, but I'm beginning to forget what this faux-fight was about. "Mm-mm, never."

Percy clamps a preemptive hand over my mouth and shoves himself completely inside me, my pussy swallowing him whole. My eyes roll back in my head and I cry out into his palm, feeling deliciously, perfectly full and I'm pretty sure my brain starts leaking out of my ears.

"Then I'll fuck the words out of you," he murmurs into my ear. His other hand pins my hips to the bed as he starts pounding into me. I couldn't stop my body moving if I had the presence of mind to try, forcibly being dragged through overstimulation into that place where nothing else exists but Percy and the feeling of him inside me.

"Come on, baby," he coos, voice slightly unsteady. "Say it, and I won't drag another three orgasms from you."

That... that would break me. I'm out of my mind with just the two, I can't imagine how little I would function after five.

I can already feel my third orgasm building shakily in my lower stomach, pussy fluttering and convulsing around Percy's cock as he keeps up his rhythm. My pride wars with my common sense, wanting to stick to my victory versus knowing how utterly dedicated Percy can be at wringing orgasm after orgasm out of my poor body.

Percy adjusts my hips slightly and the angle knocks my pride out of my head. My lips form the words against his palm still over my mouth and he smirks, moving the hand to tangle his fingers in my hair.

"Something to say, gorgeous?"

I mumble the words, eyes closed and voice shaking.

Percy shakes his head. "What was that? A little louder for me, baby."

"...you went easy on me," I moan out, cheeks bright red and hands coming to hide my face. I don't need to see the smug fucking grin on his stupid handsome face, I already know it's there.

"Oh, good girl," he purrs, hips unrelenting against mine and sneaking a hand in between our bodies to thumb over my clit. "Just give me one more, one more and I'll stop, can you do that?"

I nod, clinging to him and moaning against his shoulder. "Mhm, I can d-do that."

"Good girl, I know you can," he murmurs, voice soft and burying his head into my neck. "It's okay, I've got you."

His switch to sweetness and patience sends my head reeling and I fall apart under him, muffling my scream of his name by biting into his shoulder. It only takes a few more thrusts and his hips stutter and still, a low choked moan smothered into my neck as he comes, filling up the condom.

Coherency is a distant memory and I can only focus on breathing, senses swamped with Percy. He litters kisses over my neck and jaw, whispering praise into my skin that I can barely focus on.

I whine in discomfort as he pulls out of me and he kisses me hard as a distraction, only moving away from me for a moment as he discards the condom before returning. He lays on the bed with me, wrapping me up in his arms and snuggling both of us under the bedsheets.

"Hey, you," he whispers, kissing the crown of my head. "How're you feeling?"

I respond in mumbles and nuzzling my face into his neck. Percy laughs softly, nodding and stroking up and down my spine.

"It's okay, that was too hard of a question right now, my bad."

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god i hope this was good, thank you for requesting!

[fraugwinska]

Since your the queen of fluff, I had to make this request.

It’s more an angst/comfort/fluff, but I want to see Alastor dealing with his girlfriend/lover having body dysmorphia. The comfort in O Mother Mine for him was beautifully portrayed and I want Alastor to provide comfort back. Cant wait to see what you write🩷💖❤️

This was - and still is - an ask that hit very much home for me. Struggling with my self image and a long, very taxing time living with an ED since my teens, I had to take my time writing this - Because with all this history weighing in my own back pocket, I wanted to write something my younger self would've found comfort in reading. Which is why there's a lot of my own experiences woven in. Thank you for this ask, my dear. And to all who fight the fight against their own head each day - I see you. And you are worthy of every bit and piece of love, external and internal. I let our dear deer take it from here.

TW: Explicit depictions & mentions of ED and body dysmorphia - 3k words

“Why don't you want one? Do they look bad? Don't you like my chocolate chip cookies?”

Niffty stared at you, her one big eye glazed and watery, and you felt that at her whining remark all eyes were on you. Shit.

You had been at Charlie's group therapy activities for hours by now, everyone was exhausted and hangry enough for Vaggie to intervene and propose a lunch break. You managed to discreetly dodge every dish that was going around the table, making sure to have an alibi piece of bread and a few leaves of salad on your plate, just in case anyone would look at you funny, and it was good that you did. You glanced around the table to find Alastor of all people staring at you from the other side, and pretending obliviousness you turned to Angel with a smile, laughing at whatever he said, and shoved a few bits of salad into your mouth. ‘See, I'm eating, all good.’ 

You thought the worst was over when the others pushed their dishes into the middle of the table with content sighs and filled bellies. But then Niffty had been hopping around, offering everyone the masses of cookies she had been baking with Pentious the evening before, and Niffty was just not dodgeable. 

“Aw Niff, of course I do, and they look amazing! But I'm so full, stuffed, I really can't take another bite.” Perhaps you imagined it, but you thought you heard a static crack of feedback and you shot a quick glance over to Alastor, but he was drinking his After-Lunch coffee with closed eyes, detached and apparently trying to drown out the babbling sinners around him. Irritated, you turned to the little, pouting cyclops girl again, your voice purposely louder as you said “Tell you what, I'll take one now and save it for later, okay? I can't pass up on your delicious treats, can I?”

That seemed to do the trick, and when you wrapped the cookie you took from a beaming Niffty into a napkin and slid it in your pocket, she and everyone else seemed satisfied and they turned their attention elsewhere - At least you hoped they were.

Another few long, dragging hours later Charlie finally released you all, and the communal groan of relief was only overlapped by the pitter-patter of multiple pairs of feet rushing behind Husk to the bar in desperate need for a strong drink. You were contemplating to join them, even if it was just for a glass of water, but that thought was instantly buried when Angel called over to you.

“Oy, toots, come on and drag ‘ya fat ass over here, I need ‘ya to tell sourpuss here to let me pluck his overgrown eyebrows. Bitch is starting to look like Frieda Kahlo.”

It was an innocent, friendly-meant remark. You knew that. Angel was your friend, you knew that. The laughter that followed his call was a reaction to his crassness. You knew that. But your already aching stomach twisted, and it took everything in you to keep your face from crumbling, and the smile on your lips felt fragile when you answered.

“No can do, Ange, I’m heading to my room. I feel a headache coming up. See you guys later.”

You hurried out the hall as fast as you allowed yourself without looking like you’re fleeing, passing Charlie in vivid conversation with Alastor, throwing her a dismissive wave of the hand when she broke off in the middle of her sentence to ask if you needed anything and ignored the red eyes that were burning your back as you speeded to the lift.

For a moment you felt safe inside the elevator, closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall to deeply breathe in and out to calm your racing thoughts when the doors closed. But then you opened them again, your reflection was staring back at you from the mirrored wide wall of the lift cabin. You stared blankly at the hated body in front of you, eyes mapping every curve that was too wide, every point your clothes wrinkled over a roll of fat. 

Oy toots, get your fat ass over here…Fat ass..Fat...

You ran out of the cabin the moment the 'ding' announced your arrival at your floor and the doors opened, vision blurry from the pooling tears. As soon as you slammed the door to your room shut and turned the key in the lock behind you, you sobbed, leaning your head on the hard wood of your bedroom door. Tears were streaking your face as you sank down to sit on the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, shoulders shaking from suppressed and failed attempts to cry silently. The room was silent, but your head was loud. Too loud.

Honey, you can't go to school like that, you look like a stuffed sausage. Go back and change…

No, pumpkin, the hamburger is for daddy. You’ll eat a salad, like mommy. Don’t you want to be as beautiful as mommy…

A Bikini? Wow, someone's feeling brave today...

You'd look so beautiful babe, if you'd only lose a few pounds...

Oy toots, get your fat ass over here...

"Shut up, shut up, shut up." It was no use. Begging them to stop never helped. Your hands pressed down on your ears but they couldn’t silence the insistent, ghostly voices inside, louder and louder and louder, repeating the same sentences over and over again and you wanted to rip them off, just to maybe get them out, deafen them, make them…

“Stop that now, Darling." Two hands that were not your own were on yours, long fingers peeling them away from your ears and taking them in tender but firm grips to pull your arms apart. Those foreign hands were dark and warm and much bigger than yours, holding you by the wrists as they pulled you away from the door and back onto your feet. Without releasing them, you felt a chest pressing against your back as the hands on your wrists guided them into an embrace, cageing you with crossed arms in front of you in warmth and the firm, humming body of Alastor. "There now, that's much better isn't it. Now breathe, dearest, with me. Do it with me."

Your mind was a haze of scattered and pained thoughts and fears that were struggling and lashing out to the surface, but they quieted into soft whimpers and whizzing like a dying steam train with every steady, deep inhale Alastor took with you, his chest rising against your back and his breath steady in your ears. He waited a few moments after he had made you breathe normally again before letting go and gently turning you to face him, hands now on your shoulders as you avoided his eyes, but when he looked at your face and your tear streaked cheeks he wiped the wetness away from your skin with the pad of his thumb.

"Why did you come?" You sounded husk and defeated. You knew your jig was up. You've been found out. At last.

"How did I not come sooner would be the better question, darling." Alastor answered, leaving his hand cupped on your cheek, thumb still in mid-stroke as he talked to your averted face. His voice was clear, even-keel, just loud enough for you to hear. And you heard him all the better for not facing him, his signature transatlantic accent and theatrical flourish in his tone, always so strong and prominent, was missing entirely as he continued. "For a few weeks now I've suspected that something was not right with you, my dear. Though I didn't want to press the matter, today has confirmed this. You've not eaten any of the food prepared, spare the few bits of greenery that wouldn't even nourish the roaches that pester this hotel, and we both know you only did because you knew you were being watched."

Watched by him. You sighed quietly at the accuracy, finally turning to look at him, awaiting to find judgment and ridicule, though the red deer demon didn't move at all. He just carried on his stroke with the thumb under your eyes, which started tearing up again, his expression strangely soft.

"My shadows reported that you were hiding food given to you just to throw it away later, and I took notice how you constantly avoided reflective surfaces. Darling, your image must haunt you and I cannot imagine the reason why. I find myself asking: What would drive you to starve yourself, to hide from mirrors and cut your eyes to any remarks looking for underlying maliciousness?"

What a loaded question, asked so simply. And he seemed honestly confused. No smirk, no tilted head. You paused for a long while before answering him.

"You... you won't understand, Alastor."

"Then help me to, darling." He coaxed you, now moving both his hands to hold your face and pull your head closer to lean his forehead to yours, looking firmly in your eyes. And it dawned on you then that the radio demon, the overlord who never revealed weakness, never showed real emotions or shared much with anyone, the one demon who walked these halls smiling and sneering with menace and mystery and endless pride, was purposely and genuinely showing you that he cared.

Maybe it was the fatigue and the despair finally getting the best of your defense system. Maybe it was because he wasn't just anybody. Alastor was so many things but most importantly, he was your friend, had been ever since you and him found mutual interests in each other in countless nights that were spent in quiet by the fireplace in the hall. He liked your level-headedness, your ability to listen, really listen, patiently and actively. You liked his vivaciousness, the vast knowledge of him that he could share when one was just willing to let him talk. Yes, the others were nice, and yes, you felt close to all of them after a few months. But you felt the closest to him, proven by the fact that not Charlie knocked on your door, or Angel noticed you were paler and thinner than weeks ago. But Alastor. Maybe you just needed that final push and he had given it to you.

So you spilled. Through sobs, tears and sighs, you told him everything:

From your family that wouldn't stop comparing you with your thinner friends, fostering a hatred for food because of misguided care. You shared that your health became less and less important with every diet and lost pound, seeing your aching stomach as a sign of sucess. How you'd hate yourself for lack of discipline when you starved yourself so much your brain snapped and you ate any- and everything you found until you felt sick and disgusting. How your friends while alive were never intentionally hurtful, yet dismissive about your insecurities, complaining to you about their sizes while you felt like they were mocking you, being stick thin and conventionally beautiful. And you told him about your one and only boyfriend, who accepted the relationship under the pretense that you'd change to fit his preferences, always waiting for you to drop weight he saw as too much, to shape you the way he wanted you to be, threatening to keep you secret from his friends and family until you did. And you did. But you paid the bitter price - got cheated on while you counted calories, and when you finally reached the set weight he dictated, he left. Leaving you hungry and confused, thin and sick and so, so lost.

With every word his hold on you grew tighter and tighter. But so did yours on him. This time, it was him who listened quietly, never interrupting, and only at the mention of that asshole ex is when he made a sound, his ears went flat against his skull as a low growl rumbled in his throat, but his expression remained perfectly stoic, absorbing your words quietly. After you finished you leaned heavily against Alastors chest and hid your face there, feeling drained and guilty for soaking his expensive coat with your pitiful tears. Your entire body was numb with exhaustion and pain, so was the emptiness inside of you that your self-deprecating thoughts have been inhabiting for years, and you dreaded the response Alastor could give to your pathetic life-story.

"All those people have proven to you to be thoroughly disappointing." was what Alastor said first, speaking very softly with his chin leaning against your scalp. "It makes the blood call for revenge when thinking about the throes you've had to put up with. You don't owe anybody to change anything about yourself that you do not wish to."

You couldn't hold back another tear that rolled down your nose and onto Alastor's shirt, clinging tighter to him and shaking your head against his shoulder, nuzzling his shirt in desperate and trained denial of comforting words.

"Aren't they right though? I'm not like Charlie, or Angel, or even you. I'm not...they are so… just... look at me." You muttered and tried to push out of the hug to avoid looking him in the eye, but the demon didn't give.

"Oh, I am." He gave you a stern stare, unintimidating and almost tender as he pulled you back closer. "Darling, I am looking at you, more than you think. And all I see is a strong, intelligent and beautiful little sinner, so willing to give everyone more grace and gentleness than herself that she hides from every compliment she deems unworthy of her, ashamed of her lovely shape that was the source of so much torment." Alastor sighed, cupping your face in a loose grip, shaking his head in disbelief. "Everyone of us has flaws, we are inherently imperfect creatures, some more than others, and yet you've managed to convince yourself those flaws and imperfections define you in their entirety."

Your instincts told you to flee, to run from this kindness that was offered to you so alluringly. It has to be a trap, your head told you, don't trust those words, don't give in. And you almost tried to, your muscles tensed as if to bolt, your breath quickened as if about to run, your heart pounded as if preparing to fight his arms for release. But you didn't.

Maybe, a long forgotten voice spoke in your mind, maybe it wasn't a trick. Maybe he was earnest, like he had been the past couple months in your company. He's here now, isn't he? Holding you and reassuring you and calming you in a way no one ever had. He hadn't put an inch between him and you to allow your doubts space to creep back in, keeping you at his side - not just now, but over the last weeks continuously, had never spoken ill of you or tried to change you, had no agenda, nothing to gain from lying to you.

Alastor smiled when you sank back into his arms, and this time when he stroked your tears away, he let his fingers come to rest at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. And without a word he leaned forward, eyes half closed, and kissed you on your cheek. His lips lingered for a moment, as if to wait for your reaction, asking a question without words. And you answered it ever so silently, turning your head to meet them with your own.

The kiss was a revelation of truth. Because he was kissing you the way you always longed to be kissed.

There wasn't passion in it, it wasn't hungry and fast or hard and demanding. It wasn't meant to make you hot or make your legs weak, but to tell you that you were cared for, that you were accepted exactly the way you were, imperfections included, and that all the days you've suffered for the wrong reasons were gone with the past and needn't to be re-visited. That you were enough. You always have been.

When he parted from you, Alastor looked content. More than that, actually. Not smiling wide as usually but with eyes sparkling in mirth that could have easily matched that of Charlie on a particularly good day. When he leaned into you again, you almost expected another kiss, but he reached into your pocket, pulling the napkin with Niffty's cookie inside out of your pocket, holding it up expectantly.

"Now, I think it's high time you feed yourself, darling - and you did promise our little Niffty you'd enjoy this later, which it is now."

You stared, first at Alastor, then at the baked good, the guilty conscience you've nursed for so many years creeping back into your thoughts.

"Alastor, I don't know... if I can."

He tilted his head contemplating, turning the cookie in his hand before he snapped it in half, handing you one half while he brought the other to his mouth and raised a brow.

"We'll share it then."

This gesture was everything. It was everything, because you knew he really didn't care for sweet treats. But he cared for you.

You took your half from his hands, feeling the corners of your lips pull into a small smile at the way he scrunched his nose at the sticky thing in his hands when you both bit in. But his free hand found yours, entwining your fingers as he suffered through his bite, and as you watched him him struggling to keep an unfazed expression, you thought that - while Niffty might've put in her best efforts - nothing she or anyone could make could ever sate your hunger more than his lips could.

Tagging my lovely testreaders @bapple117 and @macabr3-barbi3, who really encouraged and reassured me. I love you both, as well as the others in Bapples discord server (TRUST US and join NOW) who never tire of lifting me up when I'm struggling <3

[lovers-rck]

fic rec where someone from the club hosts a party and reader and hazel go and they get a little drunk and pj locks them in a room together until they admit their feeling to each other and things get a little hot n heavy :)

intentional lowercase ;) thank you!

also i did a very vague correction so forgive me if there are any mistakes! english is not my first language.

☆

"seven minutes in heaven!" you hear pj yell and run away, except that you and hazel weren't playing that game.

hazel chukled and went to open the door, almost tripping over a ball of dirty cloth. She grabbed the door handle and tried to open.

the first time doesn't work, but she knows she is a little bit drunk and maybe she was opening the wrong way. the second time doesn't work either, and that's when she starts to worry.

"it's locked" she says "pj locked the door"

"what? " you say "let me try" the room is dimly lit, highlighting the worried features that took over hazel's face.

you grab and try to open the door. one, two, three times later you realized that, in fact, is locked. pj locked the door and ran away for who knows how much time.

"im sure this is one of her pranks" hazel looks at you, her eyes a little sleepy from the alcohol "she will come back in a few minutes"

but you are impacient. three minutes has passed. you look at the posters in Annie's walls, all with a inspirational quote about women and printed pictures of Simone de Beauvoir. five minutes. hazel groans in protest, looking at her dirty shoes and thinking why she didn't clean them before going out, she's embarrassed now. seven minutes pass. eight. nine. ten. eleven. twelv...

"pj!" hazel screams "pj let us out please! i already apologized to you when i said that you only created the club to fuck cheerleaders! please!"

for the next ten seconds the only things you hear is hazel's voice, she's loud and desperate, her hands hitting the wooden door for so long that you almost find a rhythm.

eventually hazel gives up, and in a matter of seconds all the loud noises that she made earlier end up causing her a big headache. she feels less drunk than before, but the after feeling isn't so much better. then she looks at you, sitting in the floor, your legs crossed like a kid and your eyes resting. you were a chill drunk, hazel was a chaotic one.

she find a very strange feeling looking at you, something growing in her stomach. hazel never saw you the way she was seeing you now, always admiring you in secret, always playing the fool when you catch her eye in between classes or practice. she knew that this wasn't product of the alcohol, and that scared her.

so she tried and is currently trying to ignore that little feeling growing inside of her, that little tiny and obviously-not-romantic feeling that became stronger everyday.

okay yes. she was in love with you. so what?

it was not a big deal. it's not like at the very sight of you she becomes dumb and slow and words come out of her mouth like vomit without thinking. it's not like she freeze everytime you touch her or grab her hand. it's not like she is completely, hopelessly, in love with you.

okay it was bad.

"we have to get out of here" hazel says "I'll become anxious and you know i left therapy last week!"

so you get up and grabs hazel's hand. you guide her to sit in Annie's bed, standing in front of her and demand her to breath with you.

inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

you don't let go of her hand at any time, and neither does hazel. you look at her, her eyes are closed and her lips swell as she exhales the air as you taught her. you look at her and the sudden impulse to scream what you feel for her invades you.

but you two are friends, and friends don't do that. friends help each other without expecting anything in return. but you realized that you didn't want to be hazel's friend when after every shared moment you expected something in return, something to give you a hint, something to answer the doubt that has been in your heart for a long time.

¿did she look at you with those eyes in purpose? ¿did she caressed your cheek in accident that one time? ¿did she makes jokes about couples with you just for the laughs? ¿did she likes you?

the last question is the worst, you consider.

"thank you" hazel says, and you smile slightly in return. always waiting for something else.

and you think she gaves you something in return when you feel her thumb caressing your hand. she stares at your intertwined hands, and so do you.

shyness takes over your bodie, and the giggly and playful hazel disappears. it was always easier to pretend that nothing happened, that all the touches were accidents and all the looks meant nothing. to pretend that they were just meaningless feelings.

but neither of you can do that anymore when you feel hazel pull your hand slowly, bringing your body closer to hers but leaving a space, leaving open the door of regret. you close that door the moment your free hand caresses her face and she smiles at you.

"can i..."

"yes" you say "please"

she obey and guide your bodie to bend down slightly for her to kiss you. you inhale sharply when her lips makes contact with yours for the first time, and suddenly a scared feeling takes over your body

but hazel grabs your face and you understand that there is nothing to fear when you are with her.

her kiss is delicate and slow, but hungry. she grabs your legs and sits you in her lap, not getting enough of you. her mind cannot comprend what is happening, but is unable to stop it. her fingertips swim across your skin, trying to memorize every feeling, every texture that is so new to her.

she fears that she might be a little rough or fast with you, that maybe she crossed the invisible line. she freeze and for a moment she just stay there, her forehead against yours, breathing and trying to process the last five minutes.

"did i do something wrong?" you murmured

"no, no, you did nothing wrong"

"what's wrong?"

she swallows and hold your hand "nothing is wrong"

"don't be scared"

"im not scared" hazel replies, hating how you read her so easily. you raise you eyebrow "okay maybe i am a little scared"

"of what?"

you heard how the girls are laughing at something downstairs.

"i don't know" she exhales "im afraid you won't be my friend anymore after this"

"we were kissing and you were all worried about our friendship?

"yes!" she replies "your friendship is very important to me"

"i know" you gently put a strand of hair behind her ear "your friendship is important to me too. im not gonna ignore you after this if that's what you fear hazel"

"okay" she nodds "okay"

you laugh slightly "okay"

and you kiss her again, more desperate than before. hazel quickly responds to your body and grabs your waist, pushing you towards her.

you move slightly in her lap and she gasp. the strap of your shirt falls off your shoulder and hazel leaves your lips to find a home on the skin of your neck and shoulder. she kiss and bite the flesh, your breathing becoming a little louder.

in a bold act, you grab hazel's hands and place them in your breasts, hoping that she would catch the sign.

and she does, so she moves you shirt up and start massaging your flesh, you nipples alrrady hard to receive hazel's hands. you whimper lightly when you feel hazel's tongue, leaving a trail of kisses all over your tits.

her hand starts going down when you both heard the lock of the door and a scream

"oh my god!" pj screams and hazel cover your breast with her hands in panic "oh my god! guys! guys! oh my god"

pj jumps and start running away, her screams invading the house

"it worked! guys it worked!" pj screams downstairs "the were sucking each other's titties!"

and all the girls scream with her.

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part V)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.4k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: some misogyny and shit (you know who), psychiatry stuff, canon gore, blood, heads exploding, and violence?.

Notes: so I'm sorry for any mistakes during the psychyatric process, I go to therapy and take medication myself so that's all I know plus google research. And be aware of the gore descriptions, I tried to do my best I guess lol. Thanks for reading as always!

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part V: Blow Your Mind

With a deep breath, you reviewed the symptoms Soldier Boy barely 'gave' during your session. The list was kind of long on the pages and it read:

Always being on guard for any danger, self-destructive behavior, irritability, angry outbursts, panic attacks, feeling emotionally numb, not trusting anyone, not feeling safe, hypervigilance, intrusive thoughts, fatigue, muscle tension, headaches, back pain...

There was a weird silence surrounding both of you, mostly because of his mood and his change in demeanor from a somewhat friendly asshole to an irritated, unbearable jerk. Once you had started with the uncomfortably stupid questions, he felt threatened. Soldier Boy wasn't actually open to talk about his past and the traumatic experiences he had, and that meant it was difficult to get to know how his body and mind were reacting to all the stress and madness he went through in decades, adding those weeks after Billy Butcher had released him from his nightmare.

He was opposed to speaking directly about how he was feeling, but you knew better that Ben speaking out on his symptoms was not going to happen. So you had to ask each one of them and review some his most harsh experiences directly, in order to receive monotonous responses, limited to: 'yes', 'no', 'I don't know,' and finally 'what the fuck is that?' You took them all as an absolute yes.

He was being defensive and you knew better than to miss anything after he almost burned the whole damn building. And with the small but confident experience you had with psychiatry, you concluded that he needed medication and therapy. As soon as fucking possible.

"Yeah, you have PTSD," you said after a moment and your eyes found his unreadable gaze.

He raised his eyebrows with false surprise. He already heard that shit from Hughie before. "And where's the fucking drugs?"

"For that to happen, you have to stop the weed first."

"I've survived bricks of coke mixed with shit you probably don't know about and you want to take the only thing that's keeping me sane? Fan-fucking-tastic!" he fumed, but you didn't flinch. Not a bit.

"Look, my goal is keeping you safe and making you sane because you definitely are not. Not right now. And since I took you out, you'll follow my process, so stop whining."

He chuckled softly with a bitter grimace on his lips as he shook his head softly. "No, that's not gonna happen."

"I don't care if you agree with that, it's settled," you continued, a triumphant smile plastered on your face.

It was true, you didn't give a single shit. He had to be clean and quit any type of drugs to start the medication but most importantly, to use his blood. Eventually. You were more than aware that he wouldn't die easily, that was proved. And it was just a matter of time to get him to your lab to take samples of his blood and run the necessary research on them while you and your team still continued the studies with the Anti-V prototype. You were only hoping that day would arrive soon enough. Two months sober, that was all you needed from him. And the best part? Soldier Boy didn't have to really know the whole details.

Ben, on the other hand, clenched his jaw so tight and closed his eyes for a moment after hearing your statement. You really were a fucking bitch, letting him fall into the abyss of misery and torture that was his own wrecked mind. He considered your intentions internally, once again for the millionth time. You showed up there all dressed up, playing a rich doctor when in reality you were just a fucking slutty brat, just to tell him he had to stop his usual pot, which you also brought happily when he asked you to. And now, you were taking away the only thing that stopped him from ripping your head off. What a great move.

"That's not smart," he insisted.

"Why not? I have you under my own terms."

Ben tilted his head, studying you carefully. "You can't stop me, doll. None of you can. I'm only here because I find it suitable instead of storming out and catching unnecessary attention."

Ben saw you swallow down, he immediately knew it was because you were angry, not scared. You never really seemed scared of him. And you tried to restrain yourself from slapping him right away. "Are you blackmailing me again, Soldier Boy?"

"Is just a warning," he said, nonchalantly. "Wouldn't want to harm such a pretty thing like you, now wouldn't we."

"Oh well, just a reminder I can also turn on the damn gas if needed," you snapped. The arrogant smirk on his lips fell off and it was your turn to smile back. "We all have hidden cards, right?"

Such an arrogant bitch, he thought.

"So, what's your plan?" you switched the subject to avoid going further into what was troubling him.

"What do you mean?"

"Homelander. You want him dead, don't you? You must be getting ready to fight again..."

His body seemed tense once you pushed him to talk, looking away from you to calm a bit. "Isn't that what all of you want?"

"Any sane person would love that, trust me."

Soldier Boy narrowed his eyes. "Well, I can do it. If I wasn't here... You've seen what he's capable of. Jesus, I've seen it," he bitterly chuckled. "And the kid? He's a fucking menace."

"You've been watching the news, I take that—"

"The fuck I do! Wasn't gonna wait for you to keep me up to date of what the fuck is going on!" Ben shouted, his loud voice roaring in your ears despite the distance.

"I don't want you to stress out more than you do," you said, vacillating. "A lot of things take time, such as you adapting to the twenty-first century."

"I'd love to know when that'll happen," Ben insisted. "Or else, I might just break out."

With a tentative smile, you started to write down the report. "I'm so glad you're talking more during our sessions."

You barely said goodbye to Soldier Boy once you finished your daily session. Your head was aching as you walked down the aisle, barely leaving the empty wing of the building behind. Certainly he was hard to handle and was behaving defensively. Before you left he began asking, or better said, bossing you to get him whatever the kid Hughie told him he needed to learn how to use. Shit like the internet and GPS, he said. You told him he was not ready for it yet.

But you'd give him a golden star for trying and insisting so badly, even if he was against eighty percent of your methods. He was up to something, there was no question for that. He was a soldier, more or less like his given supe name. People like him always had a plan, and underneath his facade, there were more plans backed up with words of honor that you had to track sooner or later.

As you made your way to your office, greeting your lab employees and guards, a disturbing sensation grew up inside. Before crossing the doorframe you subtly looked around, focusing for some reason in the security camera, more time than you'd like to admit. You turned again to finally get inside, facing the entry of your office when hurried steps and a voice stopped you from doing so.

"Doctor!"

Once again you turned on your heels to see your assistant, tablet in hand. Those had to be the results.

"Hey," you began. "You have everything?"

Bianca nodded with a straight face and handed you the tablet. You noticed her tight grip and her somehow trembling fingers when you took the device from her hands. You eyed her a little, she remained with her hands intertwined in front of her, her attention seemed lost. With caution, you continued to check the file.

"Is the patient alright?" you asked, reading the profile of the supe who had the not so good luck of being tested previously.

Solaris was his supe name. And he had the ability to manipulate light and matter with his mind. He had taken part in the program for a month now and this was his first test. As always, each supe you had into the program was low-profile. You were thankful of your team keeping these supes under their gaze to offer them some sort of solution, even after all the deaths you tracked from time to time when a test of the Anti-V was run. More than a solution for them, it was a partial contribution to find it.

You quickly scanned the updated file that Bianca completed for you. He was doing better than projected, his powers were still gone with a forecast of probably coming back within a couple of hours. A deep breath left your lips. Now that was an improvement. It was the first time anything like that happened on any tests. The supe survived, he was weak but the powers were off for a bit. It was a small step closer to your goal. Just a little bit more maybe and it could be done, finally...

"He's resting right now," Bianca interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes were back on her face.

"This is great news, thank you. I trust he's doing okay."

She nodded. "He is."

"Great, I guess I'll see him in a couple of hours," you said about entering your office.

"Wait!" Bianca suddenly closed the little space between both of you. She breathed heavily before stuttering words out. "I, I have- I'm sorry..."

"Are you okay?" you inquired, knowing her behavior was unusual. She swallowed down, turning her gaze away, her hands shaking. Was she sick? "Bianca, what's wrong?"

You tried to reach her cheek with your hand, but she stepped back abruptly, looking at you like if you were a ghost with her eyes red and wet, and a fine layer of sweat adorning her skin.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

You walked towards her, worried about what was going on but every step you took, she also gave it back.

"Bianca, what's happening?"

Her back bumped the wall of your office, and finally, she started to cry. "I'm sorry. You have to go, please..."

Your heart started pounding heavily on your chest. "What—"

"Go now! Please... Please don't hurt me..."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Bianca," you whispered, trying to comfort her.

But she continued crying and mumbled incoherent words with eyes shut, while hot tears streamed down her face. She choked on her sobs as she pleaded for her life. But you didn't understand why. You tried to soothe her, reaching her shoulder with your free hand.

And when you placed your palm on her, everything became red. It all happened in seconds. Ropes of warm blood covered your face in an instant. A loud gasp fell from your throat. You felt every drop mixed with brains on the skin of your face, on your neck, and sliding down the skin under your blouse. It was shocking and equally disgusting. And your eyes remained shut, not brave enough to move or see the horrid picture in front of you.

Your palm was still on her shoulder when the remains of her body fell to the ground with a thud. Your trembling hand wiped some blood from your face to open your eyes anew. The wall was painted with her, as much as you were, and it left a trail of blood from where her corpse slid to the floor. Her head long fucking gone.

"Shit."

Shit. Fucking shit. Was it him? It had to be him. There was no reason to doubt it. It was him. And he complied with his promise. Had Homelander been controlling Bianca? Was she the only one? No. There had to be something more. Homelander wasn't easy and he wasn't merciful with anyone. You had to stop him and get Soldier Boy out of the building. Now.

You tried to control yourself as best as you could, walking away to reach anyone, crossing a corner on the hallway, where a guard was casually passing by.

He stopped on his tracks at your sight, covered in blood and meat. "Doctor?"

"I need your help," you whispered.

He nodded quickly and you began explaining with a low, shaky voice.

"I don't know what happened, my assistant was right there with me when— Fuck!"

You walked some inches away when his head exploded, just like Bianca's did. Luckily, or not, this time was inside his helmet. All the red brains and blood were catched by it. Still, you wanted to throw up right fucking there. The remains of his body fell to the floor with a loud sound.

With a deep breath you continued your way, finding guards, lab assistants and agents. If they were alive, their heads popped into your sight. And if it was your somehow lucky moment of the day, you just found their headless corpses lying on the ground, creating a pool of blood you tried to avoid.

The only thing on your mind was taking Ben out of the building. The alarm had been turned on and the annoying sound of it was driving you crazy. Your head ached more than ever as you made your way to Soldier Boy for the second fucking time during the day.

Since there was no time to open the heavy door properly, you used a force field around the metal, moving the door until it slipped enough to let you in. You found him standing in the middle of the room. Eyes dark and alert, with fists and frame ready to fight. He wrinkled his nose once you entered the place.

"What the fuck's going on?" Ben growled, observing your blood covered face.

"We need to go, now. Take your clothes off."

He blinked, taken aback. Before he answered you continued with an explanation.

"I'll turn you invisible, but can't turn your clothes," you ordered, looking in the closet for a sports bag you knew was inside and picking a couple of shirts, pants and boxers as quickly as time allowed you to. Once finished, you turned to Ben again.

"Mind to fucking clarify?" he insisted. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Look, I'll tell you everything once we're out," you turned one of your hands invisible for him to see.

Ben snorted with laughter. How ironic, he thought.

"No fucking way."

"Strip. We're leaving."

[aihoshiino]

chapter 155 thoughts

Thanks for your patience! I had some stuff crop up IRL this week that kept getting in the way of my chapter review but we're so oshi no back

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 12

Aqua Hoshigan Status: White

i can't believe toxic yuri was the real core theme of this manga all along

With the long road to revenge seemingly conquered, Oshi no Ko eases us into a bit of a false high before the real finale comes barrelling in. As with 152, it feels like we're tying off a number of arcs that have lasted through the series, with certain characters getting what is clearly supposed to be their big emotional resolutions… and unfortunately, as with 153-4, while a lot of these beats are satisfying on paper, they suffer a lack of buildup that makes them ring a bit hollow. OnK's clumsy handling of certain characters during the Movie Arc has really come back to bite it during the finale, leaving me feeling like a lot of the emotional payoffs for them are undercut and the character work they're doing doesn't have the groundwork it needs to properly resonate. I defo didn't hate this chapter like some folks seemed to, but it has some pretty substantial issues in terms of micro and macro storytelling I am compelled to talk about. This is one of those chapter reviews I think comes across way more negative than it necessarily is lol but man did this one give me a headache…

To start things off, the thing that initially delayed this review: page fucking one!!! By total coincidence, this was the first chapter in basically forever where I didn't get a chance to look at the JP raws until like two days after it dropped and as such I was ripping my hair out trying to figure out who the narrator was on page one - the use of 'Mama' made me wonder if it was Ruby, but the visual flow of the page is much more biased in favor of Aqua and I probably don't need to tell you how fucking huge it would be for Aqua to have called Ai that for the first time!!! However, based on the speech patterns of the speaker in Japanese and the way subsequent pages flow from this intro, I'm pretty settled on it being Ruby - this chapter is a sort of closing of the book on her involvement in the revenge play or as my friend Mala put it, it's Ruby's homecoming so to speak. And like… honestly, thank god lol.

I get a lot of Ruby fans have wanted her to be more involved in this side of the story for a good while but I think the Black Hoshigan Ruby arc playing out like it did made it pretty clear that Ruby as a character is not super well suited to playing a role in the revenge half of OnK in the way that Akasaka wants it to be written. Not just that, but her actual post-BH characterization in relation to this arc has been such a wet fart that I really think it has taken away a lot more than it has added to her arc.

Not only that but… most of it didn't even happen onscreen lol! Not only did we get that absolutely baffling speech in 147 where she literally looked into the camera and Explained With Her Words the character arc she was supposedly having this whole time (just offscreen and nowhere the reader could see) but we now get Aqua going "well ruby decided to forgive him so it is what it is i guess". It feels so limp as a reason for him to have flipped on a dime like he did, especially when we still haven't fucking seen this supposedly lifechanging performance of Ruby's!!!! SO many characters have the resolutions to their Ai-adjacent arcs connected to how Ruby chose to play Ai in the movie but we're not actually seeing it. We're just sort of talking around it and having it exposited to us. I want to assume this is setup for us eventually seeing it ourselves but like… at this point, IS there any point to us revisiting the movie's content? Everything we might have learned from it has already been addressed by characters Telling Us To Our Faces How It Made Them Feel And Gave Them Therapy so it would ultimately be superfluous.

God. I hate still bitching about the Movie Arc now we're out of it, but it really is the albatross around the neck of this finale. So many of the issues littered through these last ten or so chapters are the result of the Movie Arc's fumbling and misuse of the cast and its failure to establish the emotional throughlines that should have been tied off by these chapters. I keep feeling like I'm repeating myself when I talk about XYZ Narrative Beat not being bad on paper but being less effective than it should do because of lacking underlying foundation but it really is the one central thing plaguing this arc right now.

i get what you guys are going for but. seeing aqua just let kamiki walk away when he has definitely killed people is really funny.

The twins' return to Miyako is another moment that I like in theory but honestly just feels frustrating. It's been over 25 chapters - a week short of an entire year since 125 came out where Miyako lamented her inability to reach the twins like a 'real' mother would and this thread was immediately dropped like a rock. She had zero involvement in the Movie Arc even during parts it was straight up absurd that she was not at least reacting to the events going on, didn't have any reaction to the movie or like… anything going on that could have more organically lead to this development.

I also have to say. The twins returning to Miyako performing this Snapshot of Aesthetic Motherhood (as u/DeliSoupItExplodes on the OnK sub put it) felt kind of. Weird and even a little icky to me in a way I've been struggling to articulate. Just that it felt extremely on the nose and kind of. eeeh.

that said. i won't pretend i'm not 4x critically weak to an 'okaeri' / 'tadaima' exchange at the end of a long quest or journey…

For all my complaints about the surrounding context, this scene in isolation is pretty much the one part of this chapter that just uncritically works. It's hard not to read it as a parallel to Miyako offering to adopt the kids in chapter 10 - except there, Aqua refuses to step into his new family. Here, Miyako pulls him into the embrace and the two of them finally engage not as peers but as a mother and son, as they've needed to do all this time. Her words here are so lovely and so, so sincere that it's really no wonder Aqua breaks down in tears. As much as I've bitched about the lacking work in his arc across the last major chunk of chapters, it's nevertheless been incredibly cathartic to see Aqua finally start letting down his walls, believing in his future and letting people love him. I just wish it had the buildup to really land.

also the twins just… still have not had a real conversation or interaction about literally anything lol.

Ichigo's back…! I already aired my major complaint about this scene vis-a-vis Ruby but I imagine this is the last time we're going to get a real Moment with Ichigo so I might as well get this off my chest now: it was and continues to be utterly bonkers to me that of the characters we saw having Feelings about the 15 Year Lie cast screening, Ichigo was not one of them. And it's even more bonkers that we got this whole bit waxing poetic about fucking Kaburagi and how he feels soooo bad about Ai when like… I'm sorry, but Kaburagi's feelings about Ai are so low on my list of priorities as to be functionally irrelevant. Quite frankly, he does not matter and it's INSANE that the story gave this misty-eyed moment to him and not Ichigo - you know, the agent of the industry that went on to exploit and kill her, her literal, actual dad whose guilt over what happened to her made him ghost his family for nearly twenty years? Can you imagine what an insanely powerful moment of resolution it would've been for that moment of Kaburagi addressing Ai through the 15YL poster to have gone to Ichigo instead?

I also have to note this weird ongoing thread of 'the Dome' being framed as Ai's dream that Ruby is inheriting when it, uh, patently was not! I'm sure she felt some pride in her success but all she herself said on the matter back when it came up was that she didn't get what a big deal it was but that since everyone else was happy, she'd be happy too. I initially took this to be laying the groundwork to disprove this idea and make the characters work out what Ai really wanted in her heart of hearts but now the narrative seems to just be uncritically treating this as a value neutral fact. So… who even knows lol.

Short hair Akane returns…! I don't imagine it was planned, but it's a cute coincidence that she cut her hair in the manga right around the time anime Akane grew hers out for season 2. I've always liked short hair Akane best so this was a nice surprise…

I have to say it was uh, really funny to see so many people get so shocked and mad when Akane talked about 'imitating Hoshino Ai' and screaming that this was a retcon or ruining Akane's character when like… was this really news to you guys??? Even before she grew her hair out, she flipped her bangs to go in the same direction as Ai's as soon as she started acting as her and she was popping hoshigans all over the place when she was getting her career off the ground… like, seriously, was this really a shock to people???

Anyway uh. Vindication for me from this scene!!! I've been pointing out for over a year now that we should be very cautious about taking it at face value that Hikaru killed Gorou and Yura because the story has been very delicately implying that to be the case while avoiding confirming it outright in a way that reeked of a red herring to me. That combined with his failure to even mention these two victims while 'fessing up to Aqua really raised some additional red flags for me and finally, we see Aqua confirming that no, Hikaru was not the one person behind everything, Light Yagami style and the final boss of the series seems set to be B-Komachi's former Queen of Smiles. Fuyuko Niino.

And Iiiiiiiii… feel very uneasy about this twist!

First of all; I have to acknowledge that nope, we have no fuckin clue how either Aqua or Akane figured this out but we'll probably get the exposition in that regard over and done with next chapter. Also something a lot of people caught is that Ryosuke is referred to with a different name here - Sugano vs Kaihara, which was used during the Movie Arc. I've heard this called out as a mistake/retcon and it could be, but tbh I'm inclined to think it's just that Ryosuke's name was changed for the movie, since a point is made about needing everyone's permission to include them in the movie and they, uh… can't exactly ask Ryosuke!

But… back to the real point here.

Nino has been one of my favourite OnK characters since I first read 45510 and every subsequent expansion on her character and her relationship with Ai has only made me more invested in her. But the story setting her up as the final villain here is… it leaves me feeling a little cold and very uncertain about how it'll go.

First off, the framing of Nino on these last two pages is just so overwrought that it's a little ridiculous lol. The image of her squatting in her filthy room, listening to old B-Komachi tracks and staring at a poster of the old group with all the other members but her and Ai aggressively scribbled out… it feels downright parodic to an extent that I think honestly makes Nino that much less nuanced and human by its inclusion alone.

Like… a big part of what I loved about Nino's inclusion in the story and how her relationship with Ai was framed was that it was messy and honest in a way that felt like it wasn't judging Nino herself or making her out to be a villain. Her and Ai's relationship breakdown was a two-sided failure of communication spurred on in large part by Ai's own avoidance and inability to have frank, sincere discussions with the people who cared about her. Nino's tangled up feelings of admiration and desire, envy and resentment, love and hate were not flattering but they felt so real and so human. She was a young girl put into an impossible situation and without the power to change the invisible dynamics of the systems around her, she lashed out at the person in front of her that she could see. The impression I always got was that part of what so deeply fucked up her feelings about Ai was her lack of closure - that she had never gotten to say sorry or patch things up. That she had screamed I wish you'd die at someone she loved and then she fucking died. No wonder she was a mess.

All this though… maybe I'm overreacting when we're just a page and a half into this reveal but again, the framing here really does feel so exaggerated and shallow. It feels like it's falling into the trap OnK previously fell into with the GRSR relationship where it attempts to amp up the drama by massively overexagerrating the emotions at play, blowing them up to their hugest possible extreme and letting all nuance and subtlety get lost in the noise. Ultimately, this will all come down to execution and while it's possible for AkaMengo to get us back on track with the Nino I already liked… idk. Like I said. I'm uneasy.

I also can't let it go unsaid - accidentally or otherwise, the framing of Nino here leans extremely hard into the stereotype of the 'psycho'/predatory lesbian and I don't think I need to explain why that sucks donkey nuts, especially in the midst of a manga that is so insufferably hetero at all other times.

at least she has good taste in b-komachi tracks.

[honeyjars-sims]

3.6 Hurting from the Heat

The morning light was shining through the window. Johnny hesitantly opened his eyes, not yet willing to greet the day. The previous night of partying left him with a pounding headache. Next to him Carina was also beginning to stir awake.

Johnny knew how this would go: She would start getting dressed and he would try to tempt her back in bed with him. She'd decline in her dismissive way that always left him feeling like a hungry dog begging for scraps at the table. She’d offer him something from the bootleg pharmacy in her purse as some sort of consolation prize and she’d be on her way.

He could avoid the whole song and dance if he’d just keep his mouth shut and let her go, but he kept trying on the off chance that his pleas would actually move her this time. Next to him Carina was already making her way off the bed. “Are you leaving?” He asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“Yeah, I have my class, remember?” She stood up and started gathering her clothes that had been thrown haphazardly on the floor the night before.

“Oh yeah. That’s not for another hour, though. Can’t you stay a little longer?” Johnny patted the now empty spot where she’d been lying, still warm from the heat of her body. Before long it would be cold once again.

“Johnny, you know what this is.” Carina sighed as she pulled her shirt over her head. “I told you from the jump I’m not into relationships.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “When did I ask you for one? I just want to cuddle for a bit.”

“You say that, but I know your type. First it will be cuddling, then spending weekends together and before I know it, you'll be introducing me as your girlfriend and talking about our future. No fucking thanks.”

Carina must have realized how harsh she sounded because she sat herself on the edge of the bed and laid her hand on top of Johnny’s. “Look, you’re a nice guy and I’m having fun with you, but I can’t give you more than this."

“I know that.” Johnny replied quietly. He didn't want anything more, at least not with her. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure if he liked her. He was just tired of being alone.

"You should get up and go do something. Y'know, seize the fucking day or whatever." Carina rummaged through her tote bag and pulled out a small baggie of white powder which she held towards him. “Here, this'll wake you up.”

He knew he should decline but the sadness was creeping in and he figured he could use a distraction. “Okay, but just a little. I have an appointment later.” Getting high before therapy probably wasn't his smartest move, but that would have to be a problem for future Johnny.

Carina began gathering her things. "Well, I'll see you around. Oh and Johnny? You should really think about getting a girlfriend." Johnny sighed and began getting ready for his appointment.

By the time he was ready to leave, he was pretty amped up. He tried to leave the house without catching the attention of his parents and almost made it to the front door when he heard David call his name.

“Hey Johnny, please remind your girlfriend that we don’t smoke in the house.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Johnny replied. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and reminded himself to relax before David caught wind of what he’d been up to.

“Well, whoever she is, she needs to stop smoking indoors if she wants to come back.”

“Okay, I’ll tell her. But I did tell her already. Really! I didn’t know she was still doing it or I would’ve said something to her.” Johnny was talking too much and too fast. He could tell by the way David's eyes narrowed that his dad was on to him. “She doesn’t really listen to me, though, and I don’t think she really wants to come back anyway, but if she does I’ll let her know.”

“You’re on something.”

“No, I just had too much coffee.” He knew his lie wasn’t convincing but he had to say something.

“You’re sweating and you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin. I’m not stupid, Johnny.”

“Fine, think what you want. I’m going to be late.” Johnny began heading to the door, reaching for his keys on the entry table on the way. David grabbed them first.

“Are you out of your mind? You’re not driving high. I’ll take you.” Johnny didn't protest.

“This ends today,” David continued, and Johnny knew he meant it. “Your little friend can’t come over anymore. If I see her in my house again, you’re out. If you bring drugs into the house again, you’re out. If you don’t get a job by the end of the month, you’re out.”

“Okay, I get it.” He agreed to the terms as though he had a choice and started to walk to the door.

“Johnny, wait.”

Johnny didn’t hide his agitation. “What now?” He threw his hands up in the air, preparing for another tirade about what a selfish and irresponsible son he was. Instead David’s face softened as he placed a hand on Johnny’s shoulder.

“I was just going to say that I love you, no matter what. And I’m going to do everything I can to help you, even if it makes you hate me for a little while.”

His dad's eyes, filled with anger a few moments ago were now brimming with tears. Johnny was ashamed that things had come to this. He hated that he was hurting his dads after everything they’d done for him. “I don’t hate you, Dad,” he said softly. “I love you, and I’m sorry."

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[prentissluvr]

hotel room, 12:00 a.m. — luke alvez

cw : gn!bau!reader, hurt/comfort, minor head injury, allusions to trauma, unedited, 560 words. requested ! for my 800 followers event [ closed ] .

summary : luke makes sure you can rest comfortably after getting injured on a hard case.

“hey. keep the ice on it, babe,” luke admonishes gently, drifting swiftly back to your side to place his hand over yours. you wince slightly when his action presses the ice pack back onto the sizable goose egg that’s formed on the left side of your forehead. “sorry, honey,” he murmurs softly.

you’d shake your head to assure him that you don’t blame him for the passing moment of sharper pain, but your head is pounding and any movement makes it worse. you were previously cleared in terms of a concussion, but that doesn’t mean that getting hit in the head with a wooden beam doesn’t leave you aching and disoriented.

that, and this case has dredged up memories that you try your hardest to keep locked away. therapy and healthily processed emotions have helped over the years, but having things so abruptly and violently yanked to the surface hasn’t been easy.

it’s twelve a.m. and the hotel room is too cold. you’re too lazy and frankly upset to ask luke to turn the damn air conditioner off. and of course, he notices the small goosebumps on your forearms and crosses the room to switch the appliance off without a word.

you’re so quiet, and it makes luke worry extra. your eyes stay constantly shut to lessen the pain, even though all the lights are already off. finally, he comes to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, laying his jacket over you because he knows that you don’t want to get up to pull up the covers and climb under them. then he takes hold of your free hand, softly caressing your knuckles with the pad of his thumb. his other hand reaches up to hold the ice pack in place.

“i can hold it for you,” he whispers softly. he’ll do anything for you.

finally, you speak. “you don’t have to,” you whisper back, eyes still closed. “it’s okay.” you lightly nudge his hand away with your wrist.

“no,” he insists, “i got it. you rest, i’ll take care of it all. and you tell me if you need anything else, cariño, okay?” he’s the one who nudges your hand away this time, and you let it slip down and fall to your side.

“thank you, luke,” you murmur, using your now free hand to tug his jacket further up your body and tuck it under your chin.

“always,” he emphasizes, giving your hand a loving squeeze. he lets it be quiet for a long moment, knowing that it’s best for your ever present headache. but the crease between your brows isn’t just from the physical pain. you can’t stop thinking about it all, and he knows it.

“do you want it quiet?” he asks softly. “i can do that. but i can talk, too. only if you want.” you crack your eyes open to get a look at him, at his pretty, worried face. he gives you a real smile, happy to see something from you.

“will you talk?” you ask, voice vulnerable. “about anything you want.. i don’t care. just anything.”

“of course,” he assures you, feeling better even when your eyes drift back closed. he talks and talks, accidentally makes you laugh a few times, and puts you to sleep. he sticks to his promise to take care of it all.

[senblades]

Tell us about the planning doc!!!

thank you very much for indulging me HAHA

So I started writing the planning doc like. When I really shouldn't have LMAO- I wasn't busy right then, but I was absolutely about to be. Oh well! What's done is done.

The planning doc is, essentially, a full outline of all the plot of fftsr, told exclusively in dumb jokes and memes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Or, well, more accurately, a dumping ground for all my ideas in chronological order, marked with dates and some (emphasis on SOME lmao) of the confidant rank ups for Akechi and Ren.

I'll share some of the outline already written in chapters to get my point across: (UH MAJOR AND MINOR SPOILORS FOR FAITH FOR THE SECOND RUN- earlier chapters, mostly)

As you can see, not everything from the doc makes the cut. Sometimes things just don't work anymore, or I can't quite find a place to shoehorn it. I'm pretty sure a line showing how Sumire was struggling without a team never made it into the chapter- or, if it did, it was so negligible that it doesn't even matter.

Plus, I definitely hadn't figured out all the scene-by-scene POV's by that point. The "April 18" bullet point implies that scene might have taken place from Sumire's POV, but the final chapter actually has it as Ren's.

I also put all my Metaverse powerpoint slide intermittently as they become relavent. I'm not actually sure if this explanation ever made it into a chapter... I think Akechi might have implied it? But I don't think it was ever spelled out, since I couldn't find a smooth way to do it. Oh well! Here it is now!

There's also outlines of character conversations and motivations, as expected. The level of detail within the planning doc is VERY uh. Well, it's dependant on a lot of things. There are some major beats that I just hadn't thought of until writing the actual chapters, but some of the character-related convos that are more centred to the plot got written down pre-writing chapter 1

From memory, I think the above scene also changed slightly in the final fic. Sometimes what I write as character motivations in the planning doc ends up being VERY DIFFERENT by the time I get to the actual chapter. And, sometimes, the characters just run away with a scene HAHA

Speaking of character convos, some of my jokes in the planning doc made it, almost word for word, into the fic's chapters. Akechi hysterically wondering if Rank 3 is the "deepest darkest secrets" Rank Up is something that I wanted to immortalise lmao

As you can also see, though, not all of the confidant rank-ups were planned- Magician rank 2 is implied, but I didn't actually know what it was going to be at the time.

And then there's the confidants I didn't have planned at ALL:

(UH SPOILERS UP UNTIL CHAPTER 46)

The Tower and the Aeon are the worst offenders of this: I retroactivaly added the Aeon into the planning doc- an easy feat, since it coincides with the Justice, but just know that it absolutely wasn't there originally lmao. The Aeon came about in two stages, if I'm remembering correctly- I wrote the dream sequence where Ren didn't remember shit, but some vision of Crow was there and did remember, pretty much on a whim, and then thought "okay what if that kept happening though"

I think that descision was one of the best things I could have done lmao- it made October third MUCH more exciting to write (and, I assume, to read)... (originally Metatron was not a factor in the boys remembering- just some annoying headaches and visions. Shadow Maruki was also a last-second addition! While Ren was off galivanting with Crow, I wanted to give Goro something interesting to do as well. So! Impromptu therapy session)

Now the Tower... I did have some. uh. Plans, for cognitive Akechi right from the start; I can't remember my exact thought process for when I started cooking for this confidant, but I think I saw a comment on Throw Away Your Mask explaining why the Tower was particularly apt for the character it's used for in that fic, and thought "wait I can cook with this". or something HAHA I can't quite remember. (I was also VERY MUCH inspired by Marigolds and A Tale of Two Tricksters for all of that... (love those fics you should read them if you haven't))

All of the PT's rank ups are missing from the planning doc, too. I knew I wanted to have all of them as confidants, but I had no idea what their arcana was going to be, or when those confidants would start or rank up.

I unfortuantly can't share some of my best jokes from the planning doc, since I'm joking about MAJOR SPOILERS from future chapters HA

ty very much for letting me gush lmao <3 <3 <3

[rthidden]

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Overheard at the water cooler

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Investing in AI is like prepping for Black Friday deals—it's strategic budgeting, not wishful thinking. Plus, more resources for sweet assignments like delegating holiday card designs to your dog.

The bottom line

Stop letting creative burnout and a never-ending to-do list be your only business partners.

Embrace that AI is here to tango with tasks so you can boogie on to new horizons, like solving your problems (thanks, Pat Flynn!) and becoming a legend in your niche.

[ceebit]

⠀⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀⠀ despite ⠀· l. minho

NOTE ⟡ i haven’t written in a Long Time and i’ve acquired inexplicable feelings for this man so here’s me putting two of my newfound problems together. and you know what i need right now in this moment of chaos? a cold cigarette to ease the pain.

⟡ CONTENTS ⟡ wc : 1k. lee know x gen!reader. this is not therapy i swear. (i think.) it’s like fluff with a kick. it’s spicy for your heart..? stop calling minho ‘the mean one’ of the group that man is a sweetheart. i listened to jaguar ii while writing the entirety of this so. if you would also like to cry i recommend ‘how does it make you feel’ :)

exhaustion prickles against your skin like dried tear stains. a headache pounds its way into acknowledgment, a steady one-two, one-two, infuriatingly consistent like the dull beating of your heart. salt clumps your lashes together. silence hangs heavy and imminent, lurking like a thunderstorm’s noticeable grey clouds.

his unread messages pile with every hour, and an awful feeling pangs against your chest—answer him. he’s not the kind to worry outwardly, instead choosing to watch by the sidelines and slip his concerns through the usual lighthearted and threadbare comment. sly in the way his touch lingers faintly and his gaze flits between observing you in between eyeing his surroundings.

thunder claps like a warning and your presence begins to fade. he notices first, of course. typical of him. you turn to face the wall, leaving your phone on the dresser. the screen fades to black once again.

what would be your excuse this time? chris worries. you know he does, and shame whispers something cynical. he has too much on his plate already, overflowing with seven others and countless schedules and meetings and the fourth, and so on. and yet you know he would pause the mayhem for a moment just for you—flimsy, unpredictable you—and the thought of seeing the patient crease in his brow upon hearing the jumbled words fall from your lips in hiccuped sobs is enough to shy away.

felix is too kind, too softhearted. his heart is burdened with the ability of open care—too much care, too much—and knowing he would cry with you, cry for you, no matter if words were spoken or not, makes your heart cinch painfully. you could not do that to him. not to felix. you wouldn’t know how to explain it to him.

your screen lights a faint hue upon your ceiling again before you consider anyone else. your grip around rumpled sheets tightens.

you give in. you always do.

“the cats miss you, you know.”

ease seeps through your skin like sunlight spilling across earth despite the chasm in your chest making itself known. stolen warmth. comforting, despite your questioning deservance. despite, despite.

“do they?” you hold back a slight wince at the lilt in your voice. worn from silence. you don’t know if he doesn’t hear it or chooses to move past it, thankful either way for it. “it’s been while. since i’ve seen them, i mean.”

“yongbok waits for you at the door everyday. he goes to bed sad, you know. it’s a bit damning how you won’t reply to his texts.” a short laugh, then, “nobody has ever lived to say they’ve successfully evaded him.”

though you know he jokes, the underlying truth prickles away at your skin. you’ve not been just missing felix’s calls. but it wasn’t like minho to tiptoe around avoiding him openly. he must have figured out you needed the space. damn him for knowing you.

“it’s been a while,” his voice echoes. he sounds the same, voice steadying through the tiny speakers, and your hand trembles around the phone. “i didn’t think you were actually going to pick up pottery and move to a remote location in the middle of nowhere.” a pause, then, almost accusingly, “you didn’t move to a remote location in the middle of nowhere, right?”

a dry laugh leaves your lips, clipped in sound. “no, i’m.. i’m still here.”

silence stretches for miles after your voice fades. you contemplate hanging up, to not burden another with your problems, but he speaks up once more.

“did you really think no one would notice?” he suddenly sounds tired, and your chest tightens. “they ask about you. they worry.” i worry. he doesn’t say it. you hear it anyway.

your mouth opens and closes with no sound.

lee minho has always been an enigma to you. the others are much more tangible, easier to grasp at with both hands. they’re firm in your hold, willing–needing to be seen, and you don’t second guess much of what leaves their mouths because ninety percent of the time, they mean what they say. you almost always know what to expect with them, but he’s different, because of course he is.

the idea of him slips through your fingers like water, like no matter how much you try to form a concrete assumption of him, he molds into something different. unapproachable is what you would have described him, back then.

then you scraped your knee attempting to follow through one of his more complicated movements and saw him in a new light. silence had filled the studio, much like now, but the care he’d taken in smoothing over the last cat themed bandaid in his wallet had almost made you cry. open concern, lingering hands unsure until you’d opened your mouth and cracked something stupid to alleviate the wavering quiet. you still replay his laugh in your head sometimes.

“you’re always so tired. and i understand it. i do. but to shoulder it alone is the worst thing you can do to yourself.” talk to me. you see the olive branch clear as day.

“i’m sorry, i—” i’m scared. “i didn’t mean to.” i didn’t think anyone would notice.

“there’s a reason you have us.” he pauses, and as if suddenly embarrassed, adds, “i mean it, though. i hear chan has been having to physically put him to bed. call him and apologize, or he’ll make you and it won’t be pretty.”

you sniffle quietly, willing the tears not to fall even though you know he wouldn’t judge, and laugh something watery. his laugh is soft in return, and warmth spreads tenfold. given warmth. given freely.

“we’re going out to eat tomorrow,” he offers slowly, the sound of others’ voices muffled in the background now. “you don’t have to, but they would understand if you need time. they’re good people. trust in them.”

you take the olive branch. despite, despite. “and you?”

his smile is heard even through the phone. “and me. if you’ll have me.”

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi there, first of all, thank you a lot for creating and keeping this blog. It realy helped me with figuring some stuff out <3.

So, a quick story for the context of my question. Today, i had a terrible headache for approximately 12-13 hours with my regular pils not working, and i am not sure if it is just a coincidence, but when my playlist got to my favorite song it suddenly went away almost entirely. I then proceeded to watch my favorite animatic to the song, and now my headache is completely gone!

So I wanted to ask if you or anyone had similar experience with headaches. I have another story with a headache that lasted several days that ended preaty similarly, but I feel like this ask is already too long. Thank you again for everything!

Hi there,

That’s very fascinating! Music can do wonders to help. Not just for headaches, but for a lot of other things. There’s even music therapy that some take part in to help with a lot of things too.

I’ll leave a source below about music therapy below so you can read more if you’d like.

Maybe my other followers can share their experiences too. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[homerforsure]

Encompassed: Coda for 6:10 In a Flash

Edit: Now on AO3 because I love attention

Pain arrives in increments. 

First, the headache that reminds him of how long it's been since he last ate, drank, slept. The nagging, insistent squeeze that doesn’t go away even when Maddie sees him rubbing his temples and offers him the bottle of ibuprofen she keeps in her purse. 

Next, it’s one sharp stab in the center of his chest, when his son, just a goddamn kid, asks the question he’s had to ask too many times before.

“Is he going to be okay?” 

“You know your Buck. He’s- He never gives up. Not ever.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yeah, buddy. Yeah, I’m scared.”

“Me too.” 

Panic tastes metallic at first and then like the sea as Eddie sobs silently on the edge of his bed before slipping down to the floor. He digs his fingernails into his arms and the fresh pain is an anchor, keeping him from spinning away in the churning dark. He’s gonna die He’s gonna die He’s gonna die He’s gonna die He’s gonna die. 

Then it’s the weight of a bruise–technically three, four bruises maybe, but they all throb in time over his shoulder and down his arm and across his back and over his hip and thigh. If he’d been wearing a tank, he would have been fucked, cracked ribs and all. But maybe then he would have gotten to stay. He’d submit to the white and blue gown if it meant he could stay. 

Hugging his son is a good ache, one that tugs on all the others and soothes them at the same time until he hears a request that feels like fingertips pressing into every place that already hurts.

“I want to see Buck.”

“Maybe later.”

“There might not be a later!”

They fall asleep together in a shitty hospital chair after Christopher cries out every last ounce of pain into Eddie’s shirt and Eddie picks it up and holds onto it for him because that’s what it means to be a dad. 

“He told me he wasn’t going anywhere.”

The crick in his neck afterward is a mockery of the rest of his pain and, god, does Eddie feel all of it when Hen takes Christopher to the bathrooms and to get a snack and he realizes that somehow, he’s alone.

No. 

Not alone.

With Buck.

Because Buck is still in there. Eddie pounded on his chest to drag him back and the proof of it is in green lines on screens and shrill little beeps that slice at his sanity like death by a thousand cuts. 

He’s crushed breathless with pain now. Not a heart attack. Heart break. It might kill him just the same. 

“You said that to me too, you know,” he says as though they’re shoulder to shoulder with beers in hand. It’s always so much easier to say what he means when he doesn’t have to look Buck in the eye while he does it. “You said you weren’t going anywhere.” 

Buck moved toward the door and Eddie’s heart stuttered even as he sniffed, fighting to right himself and pretend he hadn’t just destroyed his house and possibly his reputation in the eyes of his son and his best friend. “Thanks. Thanks for coming,” Eddie said. “I can call you tomorrow. Let you know…” 

He’ll never forget the look that Buck gave him as he slipped off his shoes and pulled his key out of the front door lock where he’d left it in his frenzied run inside. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. And he hadn’t.

His fingers tangle in the blanket that sticks to the calluses on his hands and he doesn’t take Buck’s hand. Eddie knows how they fit together. His skin tingles with the memory of Buck’s too weak grip when he lay under the truck, later of Buck thinking he could squeeze hard enough to make Eddie give up and leave him alone when he fought through physical therapy, later still giving Eddie something solid to hold onto during his own recovery. What he doesn’t know is how it might feel to take Buck’s hand for no reason at all. He was thinking that he had time to figure out what it means that he’s been wondering about it more and more. 

“Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.”

“That kid,” he starts, coughs, tries again. “That kid needs you.”

Christopher is three for four on people he loves going into an ambulance and coming back out of the hospital again. Buck skews the average. Buck always comes out of it okay. He always- He always- 

“I need you.” 

This time the hurt is everywhere. It starts in his marrow and spreads hot through his bones and tissue. It flows through him like blood, perfusing his organs, flooding every cavity in a tide that can’t be staunched. It’s like every part of him that ever held love for Buck has been set on fire and now wails out in helpless, screaming agony. And there’s nothing he can do. 

Nothing, 

Except. 

Eddie grabs onto Buck like a lifeline, grasping his forearm and squeezing like he can pull him out of this with one good heave. He might never let go. Not until Buck wakes up and squeezes back.

[notstilinski]

Abbott Elementary Starters !

Taken from season two the 2022 ABC series, Abbott Elementary! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! There may be some light spoilers!

“I took it as an opportunity to grow. Not physically, of course, because I can’t reach the top shelves in my apartment.”

“Sea (Name) is very different than Land (Name).”

“If this is what they expect of us, it’s can’t be unrealistic.”

“Are you about to get evicted?!”

“I thought coming into work a full adult would be my solution, but I’m drowning.”

“I get it now. I’m not not a fan.”

“Then why do I have to see Chris Pratt everywhere?!”

“Oh, I don’t do that anymore. Because I’m in therapy and anger management.”

“Oh, we don’t take bribes — That aren’t in the form of money.”

“I think she’s saying I’m a broke boi.”

“(Name), I said that I don’t want to go to a strip club with you.”

“I hope all the kids aren’t here today. Yesterday, almost everybody was in attendance and it almost broke me.”

“You don’t want to be a corny legend.”

“Ya’ll gotta stop playing God with that boy’s life.”

“I’m not in the mood to improve-d at.”

“(Name) tells me I sound like a lesbian. I’m working on that.”

“And one of those is the right side, which is mine.”

“Are you two in a fight? Looks like ya’ll in a fight.”

“Poison? You know I ain’t poisoning anybody. If I’m taking someone out, I want to watch them go.”

“I’m starting to think that I didn’t grow into the person I’m proud of because of it, but maybe I did despite of it.”

“What’s that I taste? The taste of sweet victory?”

“Who does everybody get so surprised when I say I’ll help? I’m a professional.”

“You time yourself going to the second floor?”

“It don’t count if I don’t have my Fitbit on.”

“I haven’t seen you this made since the bartender cut you off at the batting cages.”

“Disguises, crime, looking hot? These are my specialities.”

“Okay, well, thank you for the donation to my mouth.”

“I’m just one of those people where chaos really affects my mood so I’m just gonna call it a day.”

“Ghost, ghouls and new friends.”

“Oh, like y’all came tell these moderately attractive white men with bears apart.”

“You truly do have the taste of a middle aged midwestern mama.”

“And now you’ve made me an accessory.”

“I Googled it. But I like to maintain that aura of dark mystery.”

“This is cutting into my pre happy hour hour.”

“All these wasted eggs when the (Name) is in town. Now I’ve got to throw a Molotov cocktail at their bus.”

“And I want to shield them with the best defense: Positivity.”

“The emergency is… I don’t feel like it right now.”

“Merry Capitalism to you all.”

“You know what? They’re a lot like paint fumes. Small doses? Fine — Even somewhat enjoyable. But too much just gives you a headache.”

“Yeah, after I introduce myself, you know. Start dating, get super clingy, abs go through his phone he might be.”

“That’s right. Now go ahead and make Juvenile proud.”

“Is that my work husband grinding on my work nemesis?”

“I’m sorry, you look like you’re in deep thought.”

“I drink a lot of Snapple so I kind of know some facts.”

“I know plenty of people who have counted me out before and, while I have absolutely no way of confirming this, I’m positive they’re all dead.”

“Sorry, so your- You dad, he hired an actor to play his child instead of just asking you?”

“Don’t look at me like that, he gave me his number.”

“I was both the hostage negotiator and the hostage.”

“Well, I’m a pacifist. You mess with me, I’ll pass a fist across your face.”

“We are watching the first Toy Story because the third one makes me cry.”

“What in the Earth, Wind and Fire is going on here?!”

“Okay. She’s robbed a child.”

“Aw. Disposable income.”

“Do you want to pinch my cheeks? My mom says it helps.”

“Well, that was before I realized that I have an insecure attachment style. I now recognize it for the disdain that it is.”

“I don’t think an adult has ever apologized to me before.”

“I will kick your (Name)-loving Valentine’s Day ass right out of this building.”

“Shame. So hot, yet so annoying.”

“I am one minor inconvenience away from putting this whole day in rice.”

“Mandates are nothing more than fervent suggestions.”

“Just because you got a round face like the Teletubbies sun baby doesn’t mean that the world revolves around you.”

“It’s cool that no matter what I do, no one is happy.”

“Let’s say that (Name) has a bubbly personality to cover up deep-seated mommy issues.”

“The silver lining about dating is that you only have to be correct about someone /once./“

“Last night, as the kids would say, was a film.”

“That is bisexual erasure. I expected better from you.”

“You’re a dork but you’re messy.”

“Weird cash floating around? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Come on. Let’s go bully some sensitive artists.”

“Now you two need to get on board. Who we fighting first?”

“That’s why Mothers Day was invented. So less mothers would leave their families.”

“Don’t give Jesus my credit.”

“Nothing good has ever come from nerds whispering.”

“It’s because you abandon people, and it’s nice to finally hear you say it out loud.”

“People had hopes for you, and they gave up on me!”

“I get why you left (Name), it just kind of felt like you left me, too.”

“My night terrors have spread into day terrors. I can’t tell if I’m asleep right now or if this is some kind of waking nightmare.”

“Why can’t you ever give me credit for a good idea?”

“My lies don’t discriminate.”

“Never have I been so happy to hear such explicit content.”

“At the end of the day, they have to decide who they want to be. And this one decided to be a jackass.”

“So what you’re going to do is pick yourself up, dust yourself off, come back here tomorrow and do your job.”

“People have thrown dirt on my name, others have given flowers. It’s all a garden to me.”

“I love the company of others. But I’m trying to like my own.”

“I’m just gonna go back to avoiding her and never asking her for anything.”

“You would beat my ass, wouldn’t you?”

“The key to never getting your ass beat? Knowing when someone can beat your ass.”

“Note to self: New way to manipulate. Step one: have a daughter. Step two: Play the long game.”

“I’m a master forager. My speciality? Mushrooms.”

“I don’t know how to leave this conversation.”

“I’m counting on those tiny fists for very precise blows.”

“Yeah. I take all your recommendations seriously — I want to know why you like stuff.”

“Uh-uh. I don’t like clanks in bags. Clank-clank leads to clink-clink.”

“No wonder your dad’s a landscaper, the way you beat around the bush.”

“You need to be better at hiding things with your face.”

“Everybody I like knows it. (Name) and Diego Luna has seen my tweets.”

“If I don’t get a smooth eleven hours, I get a little handsy.”

[oncamelliastreet]

how are you doing today :)

if i’m being completely honest: absolutely awful.

today was my first day back at school and it was the worst. i’m not talking to a lot of my “friends” (read:all but one) because they’ve all collectively shown me that they’re not great friends, and i don’t like to surround myself with negative people, but unfortunately at my school that’s pretty much everyone so it just makes for a very lonely day. and plus my best friend has cancelled on hanging out with me 3 times in the last week, and we were supposed to do something thursday this week but she cancelled yet again this morning because she spontaneously has to go to a theme park thursday :( and also whenever i talked to her today i could tell she wasn’t really listening, or we would be hanging out with her boyfriends friends and one of them very clearly doesn’t like me so i felt so awkward everytime i tried to participate in convo…

and my school is changing a bunch of their policies even though everything was completely fine last year, so now we can’t even use our phones in the halls during pass period because if they’re seen they’ll get taken, we’re not allowed to listen to music during class, the only time we’re allowed to have them out is during lunch. and ik a lot of schools are doing that but it’s still super annoying because as a queer person in a catholic, homophobic, sexist school filled with homophobic, racist, sexist students, i’m not very interested in making new friends, so i’m just extra lonely and i really have to sit in my loneliness now. and they changed our lunch system so there’s only two lunches instead of three, so it’s extra crowded and they had to open up a whole new room for people to sit in because it’s not big enough, and it’s an unorganized mess

plus, i have chronic migraines, so i woke up with a headache because i was clenching my jaw from stress all night, so i had a really bad headache all day and it felt like my head was just gonna roll off and i literally almost passed out like 3 times because i would get so dizzy when i stood up. i came home and went straight to bed with an ice pack, so its better now, but that was still very not fun and i won’t be surprised if it hurts again tomorrow :/

and…idk. i just hate the school year in general. it’s so hopeless to get home in the afternoon and feel like i can’t start anything because the whole day is done. by the time i find the motivation to do what i enjoy, it’s already 9 o’clock and i don’t feel like starting something like writing just to stop in a couple hours. or i’ll do it and stay up and then i’m so exhausted in the morning so i feel like im dying. i really wanna leave this school, but im staying because they have one of the best art programs in the country. senior year i might just give up.

and i don’t really get to relax for the rest of the week, tomorrow i have therapy (which i definitely need but i really hate doing things after school during the school week), wednesday i have to go wedding dress shopping with my sister pretty far away so ill probably get home from school, leave, and then come back and go to bed which will definitely make me feel like shit, thursday i have nothing thank god. and then i have friday off because it’s a holiday weekend but i have to move my sister into her dorm, and that will be depressing as fuck because she’s literally my best friend in the world and we have a really small age gap between us so we’ve always been super close and i’m gonna miss her like crazy. so.

sorry, i dumped all my problems on you :/ how was your day? hopefully better <3 thanks for asking

[adr-n-sketchy]

I caught you burning photographs Like that could save you from your past History is like gravity It holds you down away from me

I saw @muzarry’s Huntlow Wedding Waltz art challenge and I wanted a piece of the action. I hope this wasn’t too far off from the initial prompt of a ballroom waltz but I imagined them having and outdoor cottagecore-esc celebration.

Some of my reference materials are below the cut along with me rambling way too much about what I’m nitpicking about the piece now that it's posted and all my mistakes are glaringly obvious (ah the power of publishing your art).

Thanks again for the fun prompt!! I already have ideas of how I’d like to redo this bc they’re just so fun to draw

Materials/references - Willow’s dress was a combination of many many Pinterest searches of embroidered flowers and about three dress ideas smushed together

First things first how obvious is it that I hate drawing shoes? Lol if I’d planned this better, I probably would’ve just cropped the pose around their calves but then I was too far in to fix it.

This piece was really fun!! I’ve been on the procreate tutorial side of tiktok while I’m still figuring it out and I actually got to try out some lighting tips on this. Idk if I did them right but it was fun to try. I fish I'd gotten the colors a little warmer like the initial prompt image. Also still figuring out different shading techniques and styles I like. I'd like to title this piece's strategy "slap on a shading layer and then smudge the shit out of it until you get something passable."

I definitely did not draw enough flowers as a child and was running out of ways to draw leaves and petals lol. Phew that dress was a slog, but also so so fun. I have a little headcanon that it was embroidered by Darius and Camila. I've never illustrated any sheer fabrics, so this was me BSing myself throughout the entire thing, but I can't say I'm mad at the response. Clothing folds are still a headache for me, but somehow this is, better?

Also, Willow’s flower crown is made up of the red grass and flowers that Willow first greets when they get back to the demon realm — y’know, the adorable gesture that squeezes the first smile out of Hunter post Flapjack. Also, Flapjack-red tie for Hunter because obvi.

I'm afraid I made Hunter's outfit a little too close to Caleb's, but from the references of outfits and background, we ended here. So maybe his ability to wear things this close is proof of therapy and progress? y'know, if you squint past my blatant art and fashion block. I also just realized I think I was supposed to color the buttons on Hunter's vest but now I'm pretending that was purposeful

Another thing I'm weirdly nitpicky about it Hunter's hair noodle. Idk there's been something that's bothered me about it throughout the entire process but could never quite put my finger on it/fix it.

I had the idea that Willow and Hunter's rings would look like elongated versions of each other's palismen. Kind of like those little dragon rings that look like they're clinging to your finger, but I couldn't get the shape right, and Willow's ring isn't visible anyway. So maybe next time.

That may be it. Might add more as I find more and more things that annoy me. If you made it to the end of my perfectionist rambling, congratulations!! Your service and sacrifice is noted lol.

Don't forget to hydrate yourselves and have a lovely day!!