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#i don't know honestly... i need to talk more about this
totally-italy · 10 hours
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Wherefore dost motivation hold deep hatred for me?
As the heading probably implies, I am currently lacking a lot of motivation, which is truly sub-optimal because I literally have my Italian GCSEs this week and I literally have not revised. Moreover, my End of Years are fast approaching and I have my French GCSEs in three week's time. Help.
Consequentially, even though my history teacher still refuses to believe that it is a word, I have decided to turn this into one of those posts where my dopamine literally just relies on the number of notes that I recieve. As promised, @the-red-planet-mars, the floor is yours you have been tagged.
Rules:
Please don't spam the comment section.
You can tag a maximum of 5 people.
Please don't spam reblog.
10 notes: I will actually plan my English homework so that I can then do it without having to ask for an extension. It is due on the day on which I have two of my Italian papers.
15 notes: I will update my 'Aeneid' notes so that my virtual document is up to date with the translations that we have done in class. I should technically also revise the themes and how Juno is portrayed, but we don't talk about that right now.
20 notes: If I haven't done this yet, I will create both a Spanish Quizlet with all the vocabulary I need to learn and I will create a Latin one for all the vocabulary from 'The Aeneid' that I need to know.
25 notes: I will plan, in English, different things that I could say for the picture for my French IGCSE oral. Also, this is a picture I will be using for my Spanish End of Years, so that is doubly helpful.
30 notes: I will do an Italian listening paper though I will listen to it at a faster speed than what is asked because otherwise I will literally get so bored and lose all will to live.
45 notes: I will finish researching Virgil and the historical context.
60 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 10 minutes each day for each language.
75 notes: I really need to do this. I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in Italian.
100 notes: I will do an Italian Writing practice paper. This is going to cause me so much suffering. Help me.
120 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my French IGCSE oral.
130 notes: I will make physics notes on energy.
140 notes: I will make notes on quantitative chemistry.
150 notes: I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in French.
155 notes: I will watch the AQA videos on the Cold War and make notes on them.
170 notes: I will do a practice Spanish listening paper.
200 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 30 minutes each day for each language, including a written vocabulary test.
230 notes: I will do a practice Spanish reading and writing paper.
250 notes: I will do a practice Latin translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.
270 notes: I will do a practice Greek translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.
300 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Crime and Punishment.
350 notes: I finish my Biology notes on reproduction.
380 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Religion and Life.
430 notes: I will look through my history notes on Germany and finish them in accordance to the AQA book.
520 notes: I will do a practice Greek language paper.
530 notes: I will do a practice Latin language paper.
605 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my Spanish End of Year oral.
720 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Buddhism.
850 notes: I will make full notes on the Cold War.
Honestly, if you have even bothered to read through all of these, you have absolutely earned more respect that I thought I was capable of giving to a single human being. I technically have a lot more things I should do, including re-reading Things Fall Apart and actually making complete maths notes, as well as notes for the sciences, but I doubt I will never get this many tags anyway.
Edit: It has been five minutes and I already got 14 notes. I am actually terrified of this site. What in Tartarus? Y'all are crazy and I love you so much.
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Soldier Boy POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fourteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 5.8K
Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from Soldier Boy's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
********************************************
Previously:
"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.
"Who's asking?"
He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."
You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"
"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.
"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."
“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.
You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.
“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.
“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.
“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.
*******************************************
Present Day
*Soldier Boy POV*
The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.
When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.
Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.
He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.
"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"
Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.
It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.
When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.
You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.
The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.
And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.
Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.
Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn’t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.
And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.
Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.
When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.
But the thought of you loving him scared him.
As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.
You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.
So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.
The psychotic bitch that sold me out. 
It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.
"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.
He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.
"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"
"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"
"Her daughter." Hughie answers.
Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.
Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said? 
"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."
"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.
But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.
His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.
"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.
"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.
"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.
Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"
"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"
"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.
Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.
"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.
"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.
Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.
Of course she was upset.
He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.
Because you were his.
He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.
Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.
Could she still be alive?
Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.
The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.
He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.
Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.
Purposeless.
He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.
She was just so damn stubborn all the time.
"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."
Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."
"But-" Hughie interjects.
"Oi Hughie. Calm down."
"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."
"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.
***************************************************
"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.
Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.
Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.
A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with  enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.
"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.
"What floor?"
"8th." Butcher says.
When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?
The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.
If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.
The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.
"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.
As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses. 
And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.
Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.
He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.
That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.
He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.
The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.
Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it,  but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.
The apartment felt like you.
And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.
You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.
He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.
"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.
Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.
Where was she going?
Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking  and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.
He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.
She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-
The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.
But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.
He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.
He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.
Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.
The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.
The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."
When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.
"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.
"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.
But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.
"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again
"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.
"What?" Hughie asks.
"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“
Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game,  before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.
Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.
Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.
Maybe she should have.
He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.
He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't.  It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.
Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.
He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.
But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.
He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you.  He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him.  Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.
Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.
He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.
I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-
“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.
Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?
Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?
Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-
Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.
He remembers again what it was like to be with you in  bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.
You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-
Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-
He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.
He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.
Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.
He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.
The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.
He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.
Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-
His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.
But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.
I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-
Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.
Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.
***************************************
A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know. :)
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steviewashere · 2 days
Text
Loving Who You Are, Not What You Offer
Rating: Teen and Up CW: Referenced Rape/Non-Con (Not Between Main Pairing), Panic Attack (Sort of) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Protective Eddie Munson, Patient Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Sexual Trauma, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Slight Comphet Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy
Okay, honestly, this one comes from a more personal place. So I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be kind about this one. I've recently come to terms that I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum and I just needed to apply that somewhere, so. Also, writing from Eddie's point of view rather than Steve's helps me, so I don't wanna hear shit about it.
Read the content warning one more time before you continue and let me know if I missed anything <3
🩵—————🩵 There was an uncovered layer to Steve Harrington, that much Eddie has deduced.
It’s a subtle, blink and you wouldn’t notice, kind of thing. But even this uncovered layer had layers. And he’s not sure if anybody else has caught on. He was able to catalog several odd things about Steve that just…didn’t match his character. Not at all. Which has led, though it started casually and accidentally, to Eddie making a whole new doctrine.
The Odd Steve Behavior Doctrine. With a few noticeable bullet points:
-Don’t touch him without asking -Don’t ask him about his sex life -Don’t talk about sex around him, at all -He especially doesn’t like casual intimacy -Earning Steve’s trust is like climbing up a rocky mountain
He follows these rules he’s made for himself. Tries to keep himself casual and known in Steve’s presence. And hopes that it’s enough to get Steve to crack, even the slightest. Maybe he’ll say why these things bother him, Eddie initially thought.
Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and let Steve come to me in his own time, he eventually noted. Because he doesn’t need to be in everybody’s business all the time, which is a typical thing for Eddie. He likes being nosy and involved with the lives of people around him. He likes to think of himself as the person his friends can come to, no matter the reason or the intensity of their need. And maybe part of it is selfish, too. He can admit that to himself. That he, in turn, wants to be everything Steve needs at the end of the day. Bearing the brunt of all that Steve has going wrong or right in his life.
Things come to Eddie little by little from Steve’s mouth. None that answer to any of the bullets in his doctrine, but things that are important, too. Like confessions, moments that Steve saw as flaws.
“I called Jonathan Byers a queer in 1983. That’s why he beat me up. I deserved it,” he told Eddie one day. Casually, complete nonchalance, as easy as discussing the weather. Steve had been cradling a mug of coffee at their local diner. Picked at the pancake platter he ordered all for himself. And, at Eddie’s coming out (“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie admitted quietly mere moments before. He brought up love lives. Was poking around what was going on with Steve’s. And casually, he realizes, it just came up.), Steve took a sharp inhale. Confessed this bomb of a statement. Grimaced at the memory that must’ve played out behind his eyes. Then, murmured, “But thank you for trusting me with that, Eddie. I just need you to know that I was somebody you wouldn’t before. In case that…In case maybe you wanna take back that trust. Wouldn’t blame you, that’s all I’m saying.”
Eddie sat in that for a good several moments. As they slurped at their room temperature, rather mediocre mugs of Joe. “I still trust you,” he eventually said, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to me, you know?” Steve merely shrugged. And that was confessional number one.
Following that, Steve mentioned being tortured by Russians. Which, Eddie thought that was reason for him not liking touch. It may be part of the reason, but there was something to Steve’s eyes that told him that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eddie didn’t ask. Steve didn’t elaborate. Tortured by Russians, beat up by his peers, chewed up like a dog toy, the list in Eddie’s mind of All the Bad Things That Happened to Steve was growing longer and longer by the day. But Steve was telling him things, letting him in. It was a start.
So, Eddie had two catalogs all about Steve to keep up with in his mind. All the Bad Things and The Do’s and Don’ts of Steve Harrington.
Being his friend was an earned thing and it was a pleasant thing, but it also broke Eddie’s heart bit by bit. He’d never admit to this, but he had to realize that at some point. He wondered if Robin ever felt the same. Maybe even Nancy. But he wasn’t going to ask. Because who asks something like that? Eddie won’t be the first, but it won’t be the last somebody thinks that, he’s sure.
Even though Steve was breaking through his own mold, cracking his mask, shattering mirrors of who he was, none of it actually answered any of Eddie’s don’ts regarding him. None of it eased him. None of it lended itself in any sort of way. If anything, all of these other greater things only added to the incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched under Eddie’s skin.
Who are you really, Steve, Eddie asked himself all too much.
He doesn’t want to upset the poor guy.
But he’ll never know, he’s coming to realize. It’s just not in the cards.
———
It comes to a head, because of course it does. And he didn’t mean for it to, but it just happens.
They’re hanging out at Steve’s new-ish apartment. Lounging around on his, frankly, ugly floral second-hand couch. It’s musty and not all that soft on the cushions, lumpy and shifting. But they make do with it as they have a movie marathon. Steve is sprawled between the far right and middle cushion, Eddie is leaning against the left arm rest, legs crossed one over the other, head in his hand. Then, his stomach grumbles all too loudly in a room full of droning noise.
He leans into Steve’s space slightly. Reaches out a hand and places it on his thigh. Squeezes Steve’s leg and opens his mouth to ask if he’s hungry. But, for some reason, Steve tenses to the extremes underneath his touch. His hands grip harshly to the back of the couch and the throw pillow near his head. Legs going taut and straining against Eddie’s touch.
“Steve?” Eddie calls softly.
“Stop,” musters from Steve. It’s tiny. Cracking in half. Brings tears to his eyes immediately.
Eddie furrows his eyebrows, though. “What?” He asks. “What am I doing?” There’s a thrum in his chest. Something unsettling and obtuse. It pulsates and shifts and bitters his throat the way acidic bile does.
With force Eddie’s only seen in the Upside Down, Steve latches onto Eddie’s wrist. Tight enough that Eddie has to bite back a yelp of pure and unadulterated pain. Nearly enough to break the bone that Steve’s thumb digs into. He shoves Eddie away with just his grip. Scrambles to the far corner of the couch, legs tucked in close to his chest, knees colliding with his chin. He wraps his arms around himself.
And then, the softest noise breaks through between them. It’s quiet, yet somehow louder than the tape playing. It works its way under Eddie’s skin. Into his stomach, through his throat, and into his brain. Steve’s gentle, manufactured cries. Stifled behind his lips. In real time, Eddie watches him shatter. The way his eyes gloss over, his cheeks going splotchy with the sounds, his shoulders shake.
“Woah, hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out again. He wants to ground him. Wants to comfort the way he knows how. How he soothes Wayne’s panic episodes. And how he calms Dustin down from lashing out. Or when Robin talks herself in circles. Wants to just…be there. “Hey, Steve, are you—“
“Don’t touch me,” Steve bites out, “I don’t have anything—You—I don’t want to.”
Immediately, Eddie drops his hand to the now unoccupied middle cushion. The fabric meeting his palm. Going cold. Warm where Steve had just been relaxed. And Eddie—he may be a dastardly fool most days, dumb as rock the others, three time senior—knows exactly what he did, now that he’s focused on every small movement he makes. He’s perceptive to the way Steve is leaning as far away as possible. How crumpled he makes his body. Eddie notices how much space has been created and where his hands lie.
I’m so stupid, he thinks, that’s like rule one. 
Don’t touch him without asking.
“Fuck,” Eddie softly curses. He pulls himself away. To his own corner of the sofa. And swallows the bit of panic that rises in him. His eyes drift away from Steve’s fearful face, to his own hands. Twitches them in his lap, against his knees. Wants to cut them off. Throw them into a blender. Feed them to the birds. Something. But he forces himself to look back up.
Steve trembles against the couch. In a way that is not the Steve Harrington that Eddie met when fighting other worldly creatures. That dismantles everything and anything he once knew.
“Shit. I—Steve, I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I know that you don’t like that unless people ask. And I just—I wasn’t thinking, I promise. It was just—You know, I’m touchy with all my friends and I was just going to see if you wanted me to make some dinner or order some food. I was just trying to get your attention, y’know, and I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise, I swear. I swear on my mom, Steve. I would never—“ He takes a deep, gasping breath. Coughing on the inhale. His hands shake, now. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen fear paint itself so clear and bright on a person’s face, but he’s looking into it. Steve’s pallor and yet still red cheeks. And his all consuming, though far away eyes. His built body, yet childlike hold.
A part of Eddie wants to cry, too. I’ve fucked up, he panics internally, I’ve fucked everything up and now he’s not going to be my friend and he was such a good friend, too. Why did I have to do that? I just wanted to make sure he was fed, too. That’s it. He’s such a good friend and now I’ve fucked it and I just—I—
“You wanted to make me food?” Steve quietly croaks.
Eddie, in an instant, nods. “Yes!” He exclaims in his own panic. “Yes, I swear, Steve. I wasn’t thinking when I touched your thigh. And I—What do you want to eat, Stevie? Say the word, I’ll find a way to make it or…something.”
His hands twitch in his lap once more. Thumbs catching on the ripped holes of his jeans. The threads soft and wearing away under his skin. The scratchy, dry bit of skin that peers through. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t think he breathes. Just makes eye contact with Steve. Which, surely, is overbearing and unnecessary and…I’m probably freaking him out more, calm down. He takes a deep breath, blows it away from him, and lowers his shoulders from where he didn’t know they were hiking.
“It was nothing more than to check-in. I promise,” he reiterates, murmuring.
Steve, finally, draws away from himself. With his own breath. He unravels his legs, stretching them out to their full length onto the middle cushion. Arms going limp at his sides. Hands resting against his thighs. His eyes dart—left and right and left and right—between Eddie’s. Nods once. “Okay,” he meekly musters. “Okay, Eds. Can…We can order pizza. There should be a menu on the kitchen counter. I’ll—“
Eddie stands from his own cushion before Steve gets the chance to. “Nope, don’t worry about it. Just try and relax, yeah? I’ll go put in an order, pay for it. You…Pepperoni pizza?” Steve just nods, tentative and surprised. “Cool,” Eddie states, “I’ll be right back.”
The phone call goes by quick and he easily sets the money out for when the driver gets there. But he’s not entirely sure his presence is going to be a warm welcome in the living room again. He gets a glass of water anyway because, surely, Steve will tell him to go if he isn’t wanted.
Steve’s in the same position as when Eddie left. Though, his gaze isn’t entirely there. Somewhere beyond Eddie’s shoulder. But there’s a gleam, a little shine that tells him that Steve isn’t gone from himself, not yet at least. He sits back down in his own cushion. Glass on the coffee table. And turns, keeping himself tight to his own body.
“Hey, Steve?” He calls out, watching as Steve blinks sluggishly back into his body. “I—uh—I got you some water, if you want it. Drinking water usually helps me feel better after…After a down moment, y’know?”
Next to him, Steve hums. He sighs. “Can I trust you with something?” He asks, forgoing the water entirely.
Eddie nods in haste. “Of course, Steve. If you have something you have to tell me, I can keep things to myself,” he states. Which is one hundred percent true. He may be a loud guy, screaming and yelling when need be. May be somebody that fills a room with noise, if only so he doesn’t succumb to the silence. But he knows how to keep a secret. It’s sort of a survival tactic, is what he’d say if somebody asked him about it. He’s kept secrets about his parents, things behind lock and key in his ribcage. Granted, he may forget, but he won’t say a damn thing. And he surely won’t spill Steve’s beans, especially with the way he looks to him in open earnest.
“Okay,” Steve responds. His legs fall away from the couch and he rights himself into being completely upright. Ramrod straight. On the far right cushion. Mirroring Eddie’s tight pose. Feet flat to the floor. His eyes trace something on the coffee table, cracks probably, but Eddie can’t exactly tell. “Okay. I…You’re going to be the second person I’ve ever told this to, alright? And I—I figured that it would come out sooner or later, but you’re gonna need an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened. And I don’t know how else to talk about it without just going all-in. So…I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”
“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you have the floor, Stevie. My mouth is shut.”
Steve nods slow, a ghost of a smile on his face. Breathes in through his nose, it traps in his chest and comes out as one gentle gust. He swallows heavily, words seemingly rising in his throat. And that smile falls away just as it sprung.
“In middle school, before I was popular and whatever, I had a group of friends that I ran with. We were all nerds, I won’t deny that. And—And I would involve myself with some of their interests, if only because I wanted to fit in,” Steve explains first. His eyes roam again. Not picking a spot, but Eddie won’t fault him for it. He continues, voice fracturing, “One of the guys I was closer to, we’ll call him R, he was interested in this club. It was kind of like a tech club? Focused on radios and channels and math and…Things that I was actually kind of good with, but needed a better understanding on. So, I figured, I’d sign up for this club. Go with my…friend.”
Before he goes on to say more, he leans over for the glass of water on the table. Holds it gently between his hands. Doesn’t take any sips. The condensation droplets roll down his fingers. Cold most likely keeping him grounded to the room.
Eddie can already tell he’s not going to like wherever this part of Steve’s past leads him. How Steve has to take breaks, it upsets Eddie greatly. He’s not sure he’s entirely prepared for whatever confession comes from Steve this time, but he’ll digest it. Get through this with the guy and figure out all he needs to.
Another steadying breath. And Steve’s voice is like gravel, but he keeps talking.
“It was a weekly thing. And we’d go in. Be taught about gadgets and whats-its and whatnot. R was there, though. He was always there. We’d talk, laugh, shoot the shit. Normal friend bullshit.
“One day, though. One day, something was…different. He looked at me. There was a sense of hunger. Want. A drive to him that I’d never seen before. He’d lean more into my space, drop his voice lower, whisper right into my ear.” Steve blinks in rapid succession. His breath keeps stuttering. And something in Eddie’s stomach sours. He goes, though. Pushing through. “I told him to stop. To knock it off. Kept telling him that I was trying to learn. That I wanted to focus. And he just…He wouldn’t,” he explains.
Eddie spikes with great unease and anger. Never at Steve. But whoever this so called ‘friend’ is, Eddie wants to maybe kill him. He keeps quiet, though. Steve wanted to share and he needs this out. And Eddie can listen. He can, even if it makes him want to cry, too.
“I thought that’s all it would be,” Steve speaks quietly, “Just him talking to me in this new tone. With this new level to his voice. But…I’m kind of stupid, I guess, so of course that’s not all he’d do. The next week at our club meeting, he got closer than before. He began to…” Steve stops and swallows. A single, silent tear crawls down his face. It doesn’t even phase him, the way crying usually does. It’s just background at this point. “…He began to—to touch me in ways I’d never been. And I—I told him to stop, I remember doing that. I remember putting distance between us. And saying no and saying stop and shoving his hands off me. But he just—“ A broken little sob. “—He was supposed to be my friend,” he states, small as a child.
The sobs rack Steve in such a way that his whole body is jolting with it. Nearly toppling off the couch. He chugs the water between cries, but doesn’t move from his spot. Tight and closed off within his own body.
“I wanted him to just be my friend,” Steve continues a moment later, nasally and choked. “But he didn’t want that. He kept overpowering every single decision I made. His breath on my earlobe. And his hands on my thigh, on my…He fucking touched my crotch. Tried to coerce me into having sex,” he spits. “That guy…He made me feel fucking disgusting. About my own body. About things I loved. About sex,” Steve growls, “Made me sort of dislike all those things, too.”
Eddie, for how loud he can be, is completely silent for once. Unable to form words. Not sure how to comfort. And if he could comfort, isn’t sure if that’s something he can do the way he wants to. He can’t touch. Can’t do what he’d normally do. And his body aches to take care of Steve or to simply hold him. To be…well, to be a friend. But that’s not something Steve can exactly trust.
He feels sick to his stomach.
The last bit of water is sipped at slowly, as Steve comes down. Then, he turns to face Eddie. Making direct and purposeful eye contact. “It’s not your fault, that I reacted like I did,” he states lowly. “And it’s not your fault that I close up when you want to talk about sex. Or you wanna talk about all that intimate shit. It’s something with me. Like something’s broken. It’s like a deep crack in me, Eddie.
“And I just wanted to clear up all that. Explain what I can, I guess.” He snakes out a tentative hand. It’s shaking and hesitant, but it still lands softly on the back of Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “But thank you for taking notice. And being concerned. And for apologizing. I feel safe with you, Eddie. I trust you a lot. Which is like—That’s probably highest honors you could earn with me.” And he chuckles slightly. It’s not a humorous thing, but it’s not exactly humorless either.
Eddie lets himself soak in this, though. Smiling warmly back at Steve. Because he needs it. They both need it. He murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me with that, Steve. That wasn’t easy and I’m proud of you for speaking up about it. I’m glad to be somebody you can trust.”
With another exhale, Steve relaxes back into the couch. His hand doesn’t move from Eddie’s. “I also want to say that you’re allowed to talk about your relationships with dudes,” he states quietly. “Seriously, I don’t mind. But just…Just check in with me? Before you do?”
“Of course,” he agrees instantly. “I’ll keep that in my noggin, promise, Stevie.”
Ghost of a smile on Steve’s face again. “Thanks,” he whispers.
A lull floats in the conversation. Steve removes his hand, watching as his fingers twitch, and there’s a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. Something pleased and almost…reverent at the way he looks at his hand.
Before Eddie can get up to change out the movie, he heaves a little sigh. And says, “Y’know, if you ever need any sort of physical comfort, need to talk about this, or you just need somebody to tell you that you’re okay, you can lean on me. Don’t even need to ask, really. I’m all arms.”
“I’ll think about it, Eds. This has been enough for me."
——— Steve comes out to him at the same diner Eddie did only a few years later.
It’s 1990, Eddie’s twenty-four and Steve’s freshly twenty-three. He has a certain spark to him. A sparkle to his smile and a pep in his step. And Eddie’s happy to see him happy.
Happy to eventually call their relationship romantic. Happy to share spots on the couch, curled around each other. Happy to kiss him slow and sweet or not at all, just able to gaze over coffee mugs and across the room and when Steve thinks he can’t be seen.
Eddie’s just happy to be allowed this love that fills his chest and in the colder, vacant spots of their lives.
But he realizes he still hasn’t heard everything about Steve. He gives it time, though. Because the second most important thing to Steve—first just being there for him—is patience.
The next of their chats happens when things get heated on the couch.
Soft kisses turn hungry, carnivorous. Hands wander over heated skin. Steve’s fingers against the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. But his hands shake. And Eddie places his own hands off to the sides of the couch, pulling himself away before things can get any farther than they already are.
“Hey,” he softly speaks, “Steve, we don’t—I’m okay with just kissing right now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
Steve stops next to him. Tensing up only slightly. “Are you—You’re sure about that?” His voice is so tiny, so unlike him. And though Eddie’s heard this tone before, it still breaks him.
He says easily, “I don’t want you to be scared of our first time, baby. It’s okay if we need to take things slow.”
He watches as Steve heavily swallows. “And if I asked if we never had sex?”
Eddie eyes him for a moment. Not wearily. With something like subtle pride. “Is that what you want?” He asks in turn. “Would that make you more comfortable?”
Subtly, Steve nods. “I—“ He sighs sadly. “I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. With girls, I never even liked it. I just did it because it…There was something to say about a guy who could have sex with anybody he wants. But I also…I don’t know.” He shrugs as if trying to dismiss it, but Eddie doesn’t like that.
He sets a hesitant, soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Squeezes when he doesn’t move away. “If you never want to have sex again, I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that,” he states assuringly. “You being happy and comfortable is what matters most to me. Not sex. I don’t give a shit about sex, not when I get to see you every day, smile on your face, and your eyes shiny and beautiful.”
Steve gives another small sigh, but the smile he has doesn’t waver. “Okay. I—Eddie, I don’t think I want to have sex,” he admits quietly. It shakes from his throat, but it’s still confident the way it lands between them. “It just doesn’t feel good to me. And I—I don’t want to force myself to do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.”
Another affirmative squeeze to Steve’s shoulder. “Alright, baby. Then we don’t have sex,” he agrees softly. “And if you ever change your mind—not that I’m forcing you to—then I’m okay with what you want.” He scoots himself closer so that their bodies are one single line, warm against each other. Reiterating, “Your happiness and comfort matter the most to me.”
With both of his hands, Steve wraps Eddie’s free one. Traces the veins on the back of his hand. Toys with his fingers. “We can still kiss, though,” he states quietly. “Maybe I want a kiss.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Mhm,” Steve hums. So, he closes the gap. A wet peck to Eddie’s lips. Soft and venturing. One that last only a few seconds. He draws back with the softest smile adorned on his features. Murmurs, “Thank you for hearing me out on this. And for understanding. And for accepting this.”
“I love you, Steve. Just for you. Not the sex or touch. We could never do anything except sit next to each other and talk, and I’d still love you,” Eddie swears.
Steve sniffs something wet. Shoves himself a little closer, cuddling into Eddie’s chest. To which Eddie wraps his arms around his back in response. And he sighs, but it’s a sound of long awaited relief. “I love you, too, Eddie. God, I love you.”
The conversations are tough and they are stomach turning, but after it all, Eddie gets to have Steve. How he is. How he wants to be. And that’s all Eddie could hope for.
He kisses the top of Steve’s head and relaxes back into the couch. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” he murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me.”
“Thank you for being patient. Being here.”
Eddie squeezes them together even tighter. Warm in his chest at the content noise that draws itself from Steve. This could be all that they do forever and Eddie would never ask for more.
🩵—————🩵
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pavosnoctua · 1 day
Note
Hello~~~ Can I request for delusional! Darling reader x Yandere!Diluc? Pretty please?
Just two crazy people i'm love ♥️♥️ something like...
-Diluc forces darling!reader to marry him and instead of being scared darling! Reader goes like "He must love me very much, that's nice" (Reader basically accepts him as a Yandere)
I NEED INSANE CRAZY FLUFF BUT A LITTLE (very) TWISTED
HI ANON i hope this satisifies!
cw: mdni, minors dni, yandere, unhealthy behaviors, obsessive behaviors, unhealthy relationship, forced marriage, some offscreen but mentions of gaslighting. afab reader. mentions of isolation.
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"This isn't love," your friend tells you as she stands behind you, threading her fingers through your long hair. You frown at her through the mirror, your relationship with the Diluc Ragnvindr has been a point of contention between the two of you for a very long time. But she also stuck by you, no matter your attempts to gently push her out at the behest of your beloved. "You were crying a few weeks ago that you didn't want to get married, that it was too soon. And now, look at you, excited for your wedding that's today."
You wrinkle your nose. Diluc is right about her. She talks too much, tries to control your life.
"It has to be love," you refute with a frown. "I love him as much as he loves me. Why else would we be getting married?"
Your friend doesn't respond as she quietly works to put your hair up in a bun, as part of your wedding ensembled that he'd dictated.
"He isn't that bad of a man," you go onto explain to him. "He's helped me through some awful times, remember? Took me in, gave me a job...I love him, so please, accept that."
In all honestly, you're about as obsessed with him as he is with you - you cannot get him out of your mind, you willingly moved in with him when he asked you to, your friends slowly tapered out of your life because, "anyone could be dangerous, my flame. You need to be careful." and you agreed. Because you love him. And he knows more about the world than you do. Right?
Any woman he'd talk to, you'd glare at - outside of Jean and Lisa, you liked them. They were trustworthy, and while you know your beloved soon to be husband would never cheat on you, you were always worried they could do something more nefarious. Being able to go outside became a luxury, something you needed to gain permission for but it's all because he loves you.
When Diluc had told you that the two of you had to get married - there really is no other option, but never explaining why outside the idea of, it's for your own safety. and "We live together, so why not take it a step further?" He'd already signed the papers so you wouldn't have to worry yourself over all the bureaucracy of it all, the ceremony needs to happen and you can have fun planning it all. You felt as if there was something in life closing on you, but you didn't know what...
You hesitated - you did cry to your friend about it for awhile but you got upset when she told you that he was strange, it was strange that he'd just forge your signature like that and not even give you a chance to say no. It's sweet, you had argued. He loves me.
You're getting to marry the Diluc Ragvindr, who only does the things he does because he loves you just as much as you love him. He wouldn't do awful things intentionally, this is just how he is.
Once you are dressed, it is like you are in a fairytale - your wedding is everything you dreamed and more. Your friend still dislikes this idea but you softly tell her that's just who he is, don't worry about it.
When Diluc sees you, all your fears and worries disappear when he smiles at you.
You may be stepping into a gilded cage, but it's a beautiful one, and it's all because he loves you so much and it would break his heart if he lost you.
63 notes · View notes
cheeseceli · 24 hours
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When you're rejected by your crush
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Pairing: BTS ot7 × Gn!Reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, headcanons, just a bit of angst because you were rejected
Request: Hello! Can you please write headcanons for BTS (they have a crush on the reader) reacting to the reader being sad after finding out that her crush (a coworker or a friend) is in a relationship with someone else?
Warnings: none?
A/n: this was inspired by the "secret crush" series by @7ndipity a bit. If you do not allow this, please let me know and I'll delete this post right away!
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Jin
Your friend
That's all Jin wants to be for you right now
Of course, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel at least an ounce of hope when you said that your friend, your crush, was now dating someone else
But at the same time, he'd hate to show interest in you when you're so vulnerable
So he settles in being only what you need right now: a shoulder to cry on
I believe he'd be the one to wait the longest to tell you how he feels, scared you're not on the same page just yet
Suga
His mind is a mess right now
Nothing breaks him more than seeing your eyes without its usual shine
But he had been praying for the day where you fall out of love with your co-worker
So he really doesn't know how to react right now
He chooses to listen to you talk about how you found out everything and about how you're feeling
Will try to forget his feelings and focus on being the best friend you could ask for now
But as soon as you feel better and your feelings for your past crush start to fade, he might try to make subtle moves on you, scared someone else could catch your attention again
J-hope
I see this going on a slightly different way
He found out about your crush's relationship before you
He just knew you'd be heartbroken
So he tries to let you down gently, saying that maybe the guy wasn't this big of a deal
But when the time comes and you're inevitably sad after finding out, he tries to comfort you as much as possible
Is very hesitant on being flirty right now though
Besides being sad, he'd hate for you to be confused because of him
Namjoon
Honestly, for a second he even forgot he liked you
His mind went blank the moment you texted him about how you were in need of comfort right now
Will fulfill his role as your friend and, before you even notice, you were already laughing through your tears at something he said
Just later that day that he realises what this can mean for your relationship
He finally had a chance now!
Waits for a while though, planning exactly what he wants to do
Jimin
He feels so bloody guilty and selfish right now
Because he's your friend! And you're sad right now!
He should be only focusing on how to make you happy again
But knowing that this means you'll have to eventually move on from your current crush just gives him so much hope
Obviously, he will try to hype you up
But as soon as he can, he will try to make you see him in a different light
Taehyung
Relief floods over him the moment you tell him the news
He was so scared of what could've happened if your crush were to reciprocate your feelings
He had to hold back his smile
Hangs out with you immediately to try to make you forget things for a while
Is already making a plan on how to confess
But for now he's focused on making you feel better
Even thanks your crush with literally no context at all
Jungkook
Deadass smiled when you told him about the situation 💀
Don't get him wrong, he's not happy because you're hurt!
He's happy because he might have a chance now
But he at least was able to hide (part of) his happiness in front of you lmao
And now he's 100% dedicated to make you smile again
He wasn't even that cool, you could find someone better than him anyways
Either way, he makes it his personal mission to distract you from that other guy and make you realise that maybe you're better off without him
And if he ends up being extra boyfriend material throughout it, it was purely a coincidence
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: secret crush (by the author I mentioned in the a/n)
Thank you for reading <3
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans
Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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ivantillz · 2 days
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can u write a fic of ivantill navigating their feelings after the kiss if they were both saved by the rebels
Till was annoyed. He was also feeling a lot of other things, undoubtedly, but annoyance was at the top of the list because why wouldn't they just let him see Ivan already?
"Can you please stop pacing?"
He paused mid-step and glanced over at Mizi.
"I just found out one of my friends who I honestly thought was dead has actually been alive this whole time and my other friend is currently being operated on after nearly giving his life to save me. Sorry if I'm a little antsy."
Mizi gave a small smile, undeterred by his bluntness as usual. Or what used to be usual. Till wasn't so sure what had or hadn't changed.
"He'll be okay, I promise." Even as she said it, her eyes were drawn to the closed door. They couldn't even hear anything through the thick metal. "You heard them; the wound was pretty minor. Just grazed his side."
Till pressed his lips into a thin line, hands curled into fists at his sides.
"Why did he do that?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Mizi stood up and crossed the hall, drawing him into a hug. He used to dream about this - having her undivided attention - but now it did little to ease the terrible pain in his chest.
Sniffing once, he hugged her tight. She didn't say anything, even as began to cry into her shoulder.
-
It was nearly two hours before the door opened and one of the healers - Mizi had introduced them but honestly Till couldn't remember her name; he had been kind of traumatized at the time, okay? - stepped out.
Till tried very hard not to focus on the blood staining the front of her shirt. "He's stable," she said.
"Okay, great." Till didn't even wait before trying to push past her; she didn't budge. "Come on! I just want to see him."
She smiled politely. "I didn't say you couldn't. Just try and be quiet, okay? He might be doze in and out, don't try to force him to stay awake."
Till pursed his lips. "I know," he grumbled. Mizi joined his side.
"Thank you," she said. With a shared nod, the healer left. Inside the room was the other healer; he quietly set a rag on Ivan's forehead before also leaving the room.
"He still has a slight fever," he explained. "If he asks, you can refresh the rag." He pointed to a bucket on the table with what Till could only hope was clean water.
Once he was gone, Till walked over to the bed and sat down. Mizi sat on the other side of the bed. Ivan hadn't stirred since they walked in.
He looked bad - terrible, even. His skin was even paler than usual, there was a bit of crusted blood still at the corner of his mouth, dark circles under his eyes.
But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
"I'll just stay until he wakes up," Mizi said quietly, staring at him. "I just want to make sure he's okay."
Till had almost forgotten he wasn't the only one who had been wounded by what happened. He suddenly felt a little guilty.
"You don't have to leave," he said instead.
She smiled over at him; there was something about the look in her eyes that made Till feel exposed. He didn't like the feeling. "I think you two need to talk."
He didn't argue, even if the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about what had happened. Any of it.
-
Ivan woke up about ten minutes later; he was groggy, as expected, voice hoarse and scratchy.
"Here." Till moved without even thinking, grabbing a cup he had noticed on the table a little earlier.
Ivan was too weak to even hold it. Till adapted quickly; he held the cup to his lips and tilted it back a little. Once Ivan was done, he set it aside again.
"So," he licked his lips. "I guess this isn't heaven, huh?"
Mizi laughed softly. "Not even close. But you're safe here, at least."
He sighed, groaning a little as he tried to sit up. Till moved quickly, gently grabbing his arm to help him. He wasn't even sure if he should be moving yet but he wasn't about to fight him; that just seemed like asking for even more trouble.
"I really expected to die up there," he said once he was settled, the rag fallen at his side. Till grabbed it, plopping it in the bucket for now.
Mizi pressed her lips together. "I think I'm going to go see if they have anything that'll be easy enough on your stomach," she said, gently touching Ivan's shoulder as she stood.
"I'm not hungry," he replied automatically.
She clicked her tongue. "Too bad; you need to eat to recover."
Without waiting for a reply, she swept around the bed and paused just long enough to squeeze Till's shoulder once before leaving the room.
The silence was almost suffocating.
"You weren't really choking me," Till blurted.
Ivan side-eyed him. "Of course not," he said slowly. "Did you really think I would?"
Till opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not really sure of anything anymore," he admitted quietly.
"It was just a ploy," Ivan continued, looking away. "I don't know. I just needed them to believe it."
It was silent again for a few beats. Till stared at his hands.
"You could've killed me," he said eventually. "I didn't care."
He chanced a look; Ivan was still staring ahead at nothing, his mouth a tight line. "I would've never let that happen," he said and for a moment Till wasn't sure what he meant until - "I would've done anything to ensure your safety."
And that was the crux of it, huh?
Till thought of Ivan's hands around his throat, surprisingly gentle. He thought about his mouth. His lips. He had kissed Till like he was searching for something. Like he needed something.
"You kissed me," he said. It felt weird, finally saying the words.
Ivan snorted, shaking his head minutely. "I did." He side-eyed Till again. "I know it was selfish of me. I know."
"But if you could do it over again, would you still kiss me?"
Till wasn't even sure what had motivated him to ask. Ivan smiled; it was almost sad. "Probably."
He nodded. He wasn't upset. He wasn't even sure if he had been upset, in the moment, not for longer than a second. Mostly he had been confused.
But now that he had time to think on it, he wasn't so confused anymore.
"I never knew," he mused quietly. "I mean." He looked up, suddenly a little angry. "You never told me. You should've told me."
All that time he had been chasing after Mizi and a part of him had always known it was never going to happen. She had loved - she still did - love Sua.
Time wasted. He had never even considered...
"There was no reason to burden you with my own feelings," Ivan said evenly. "I'm selfish, maybe, but I didn't want to make things even more complicated for you."
Till breathed out through his nose. "You really think you were doing that for my sake?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "You think you had the right to decide what was best for me?"
Ivan stared back at him, eyes as dark as ever. "I don't understand."
"You kept it from me," Till continued, pressing a hand to his chest, "because you were scared to say it. You were scared of how I would respond."
Ivan let out a humorless laugh. "We both know how you would've responded, Till." He sighed. "This is a pointless argument to have."
He still wasn't getting it. "No," he said, leaning closer. "We don't know how I would've responded because you never gave me the chance."
"Just like you gave the same chance to Mizi?" he shot back.
Till pressed his lips together. "That is not the same and you know it. Sua loved her back. It was different. I - " He paused, biting the inside of his cheek.
Suddenly the fight was drained out of him. Ivan eyed him warily.
"You what?" he asked, looking cautious and almost nervous. Till had never seen that expression on his face. He always looked so in control of everything. It was nice to be reminded he was really just human like the rest of them.
Till swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I think I could've liked you, Ivan. If only I had known."
Ivan stared at him like he wasn't really seeing him. "No," he said, too fast. He looked more scared, here, than he had up on that stage.
"Didn't factor that into your little plan, huh?" he asked; without asking, he pulled the rag out of the water and wrung it before leaning forward to gently scrub away the dried blood on his chin. "I don't think I ever really liked her, not in the way I thought I did."
Ivan was silent, his jaw clenched.
"I was just - I needed something. An escape. A dream. She was nice to me. Pretty..." Till sat back. "I think I just really wanted someone to care about me."
Ivan glanced at him briefly before looking away again.
"But this whole time I was blind to see I had that," Till felt his eyes burning. "Maybe you weren't as obvious about it, maybe you had your own way of showing it, but... that doesn't matter." He tossed the rag aside and reached for his hand; Ivan stiffened as he grabbed it but didn't pull away. "I would like to have a second chance."
Ivan stared at their hands. "You don't owe me this," he said, voice still carefully even.
"I'm not offering anything because I feel like endowed to you," he squeezed his hand, hard. "You know me well enough to know I wouldn't do that. Now stop fighting me on this and look at me."
Ivan lifted his head.
"Thank you, Ivan," he said, staring into his eyes - dark, yes, but warm, comforting and familiar - "for caring about me, even when I couldn't see it."
Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. He squeezed his hand back. If Till didn't know better, he would even say he was blushing a little.
Maybe he would always have a bit of regret for not really seeing Ivan earlier. Maybe Ivan would apologize many more times for kissing him without permission. Maybe he would try to apologize for hurting Till, even if he didn't. Not really. All the pain he had felt - the real pain - was cured the moment he had known he would be okay. Maybe they would still struggle a lot, have bad and good days, but maybe that was okay.
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66sharkteeth · 6 hours
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Weekly thoughts!
Hooboy, the big episode! First off, I think everyone knows by now that you probably shouldn't read these if you haven't read the latest episode, but I ESPECIALLY mean that this week! Talking about some way bigger than usual spoilers.
Phew, this was a big one, both from a writing and drawing perspective. I actually spent a full day on that last panel alone, but writing it took way longer than usual too. Going back and forth between Bell's speech and Jericho's backstory played perfectly like a movie in my head, but it was really hard to portray it as a comic and it was one of the few times I was struggling with the limitations of the format. I think I pulled it off though, since everyone seemed to follow along fine! So while it was probably just a neat scene to everyone else, I'm rather proud of that haha.
As for the actual contents of the episode, I'm also glad everything hit w/ the majority of the audience for the most part. I know a handful were confused about if that was Bell or Jericho who did that, but to those people, I remind you it's been loooong established Jericho can control his extensions (Bell, Charlie, and Claude. Remember, they all took injections of Jericho's blank space?). Also on that note, Bell does not have her own scion... Only Rex and Jericho do. Bell, Charlie and Claude all took injections of Jericho's blank space, thus get to borrow some of his power. I recommend re-reading ep 80 if you need a refresher.
I do consider this ep kind of a big reveal of Jericho's true colors. I mean, you guys have known he's the main villain for ages now, but this is the ep that reveals his "better world for blanks" act is kind of a façade and what he's really seeking is a worse world for humans. The fall of humans benefitting blanks is just kind of a bonus. I'm glad a few people caught onto this with the fact that one of the worst horrors he experienced was having his autonomy taken away from him, then he proceeds to do just that to Bell.
And speaking of Jericho's horrors- Before this season launched, I dropped a bunch of hints about upcoming things. One of them was that the most disturbing scene (in my opinion) was coming up. I was actually referring to what happened to Kallie. I'm not sure if it was as disturbing to everyone else (I totally get like if Claude's leg thing fucked people up more), but being evaporated into nothingness but not dying was an existential dread that really fucks me up haha. If it fucked even a couple of other people up, then I did my job.
I don't have too much else to say about the contents of the episode. It was so hard to bite my tongue for weeks as everyone predicted pretty much every character but Desmond was gonna get it. I'm sorry I don't have too much else to say about him right now given what happened, but I definitely will in the upcoming weeks.
I guess the only other note I have is I might as well address something that bugs me slightly- It's definitely a minority but there's a handful of people who seem done with the series because "too many things go wrong." To which... I'm not sure what to tell ya. I'm fine with critique and criticism to be clear, but honestly, this is one thing I'm actually really confident I'm good at balancing. I'm not sure where people are coming from with "nothing good ever happens in this series" when this season alone has had probably the cutest and fluffiest scenes. Rex has a canon girlfriend, he had his first kiss with her, Desmond was reunited with his sister and learned to accept himself, Lyss learned to move past her trauma and accept blanks, Rex was reunited with Shnee, Rex's scion turns out to be a puppy dog w/ a crush. I'm aware a lot of these got kind of crushed with this latest ep...but that's.. kind of. the. point??? That's how you write tragedy and impactful scenes??
I dunno, maybe this is personal to me because it's ALWAYS bugged me when someone tells me they think a show is bad because it's "too dark." Like no... It's not *bad* because it's too dark, you just don't like dark themes, and that's okay. I TOTALLY get if CoB has gotten too dark for some people- it's definitely hit some hard themes and subjects, but I don't like to accept that as a critique. It just means it's not for you and that's okay. There's a ton of other great comics that are more light-hearted! I think the TLDR of this is it will always annoy me when people say something is bad just because it's not their taste.
Now. That said... everyone is completely valid in their hate of Jericho. I, however, still love him.
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andy-wm · 9 hours
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Why is Bam on insta?
This thought flashed in my head when i saw the most recent photos of Bam.
Maybe I'm just slow and everyone else figured this out already but maybe not, so I’m sharing it.
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The Bam insta account isn't just a fun side project set up by JK while he’s doing military service. He doesn't even have an account for himself*, so why would he make one for his puppy? It's not like he needs (or wants?) more followers or influence, and he could have just used his t1ct0k, where hes already got gazillions of followers.
When bowwow_bam first appeared, many comments suggested he created it to keep in touch with ARMY while he's serving in the military. And yes he DID share the account with ARMY on weverse, but I doubt that's the reason it exists.
Bowwow_bam is not for ARMY...
The photos JK gets from the training centre let him know that Bam is happy and well cared for.
Even though Bam has been in and out of the training centre often while JK has had his schedules, those stays were brief compared to 18 months. This time, Bam will basically be living there full time, long term.
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Maybe this is why JK sent Bam to the training centre so often in the past, when he might have left Bam with friends or family instead. That way, the training centre became familiar to Bam before his long term stay.
Bowwow_bam is for JK
Bam's photos are likely sent to JK directly, so why post them to a public platform? And why post ONLY these?
Why?
Sure, it's a good way for JK to stay connected to ARMY with minimal effort. Let's not be foolish enough to think he doesn't care about that. It's pretty clear he wants to pick up his career where he left off when he comes back. (It goes without saying that BTS - and JK - will still have millions of fans after MS.)
But i don't believe thats the only reason Bam has an insta account, and i dont think it's the most significant reason either.
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There are so many ways JK could have maintained a socials presence. If he wanted to be on insta, even just reposting old content would keep him at the forefront of ARMY's mind... if he had an insta account* that is.
It also got me thinking about what JK will be doing with his time off.
He isn't all that close to his family, he tells us. And most of his friends are idols, from what we see (although that could be selective information), so probably insanely busy with their own schedules. And his Bangtan brothers, his found family, are also doing their service. And he and Jimin are apparently on different shifts (if the information we have is correct).
So who is he connecting wiith?
Who is his link to home and normality?
This doggo right here is.
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Besides letting JK know that Bam is happy and well cared for, the photos connect JK to home and give him something tangible to look forward to on the other side of his service.
They'd remind him that this episode of his life has an end date, that he has a place to return to, and that somebody is waiting for him to come home. Bam is waiting for him.
But why post them on instagram?
We know JK has a strong connection with ARMY. He's said many times that we're his safe place (debatable, honestly) and his happy place (I truly hope so). He's told us it's ARMY he talks to late at night when he's alone. He's also set clear boundaries about what he's prepared to share and how close we're allowed to come - although he blurs these lines himself sometimes... naked livestreams from his bed come to mind, but i digress...
I believe the insta account - Bam and ARMY together - is his anchor. This is his link back to his life before and after MS.
Sharing these photos from the training centre with his three (or four or five) million closest friends would validate for JK what his life has been, and will be again. It tells him we (like Bam) are still here, still waiting, without him ever having to ask.
It keeps that part of his life real for him.
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Just to be clear,
I'm not downplaying the significance of Jimin and JK serving together in the companions program.
In my mind nothing could be more significant.
Jimin is with him day after exhausting day, just as he has been for the last twelve years. While that must be an enormous comfort to them both, these long and arduous days must still seem endless.
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Getting through this difficult time with any sort of optimism would require something to look forward to, and recieving photos of Bam would give JK much happiness, and remind him that there is life outside of the camp.
They'd serve to remind him that at the end of it all he will see his beloved doggo in person...
...and that he and Jimin will go home and his little family will be whole again
💜🐰🐶🐥💛
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*pretty sure he does tho...
~as always, opinions are my own and all of this is conjecture~
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avisisisis · 21 hours
Text
Fuck it. Invincible Tumblr
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Wake up to see the aliens attacking again. God fucking damn it.
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
Imagine how the aliens feel after seeing you
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Get better insults. You won't be insulting anyone that way
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
Nahhh. Don't need to. You already humiliate yourself every time you open your mouth
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Your entire existence is an insult
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☪️ superherofan Follow
i forget that superheroes have social media and regularly use it.... invincible has Tumblr holy shit
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Boo.
☪️ superherofan Follow
OMG??
#HI MR INVINCIBLE SIR #I SWEAR ALL MY A/B/O FICS WERE WRITTEN OUT OF LOVE
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🌙 artemislover Follow
Can't believe I have to say this, but can you guys please stop making Omni-Man x Immortal theories?!?!
Ik you think the idea of them having been romantically involved is funny, but c'mon, people
It is true that there should be more openly queer superheroes, but the fact that there are people who genuinely believe they fucked is wild...
Besides, we have to stop following the lives of superheroes that closely. They deserve to get some privacy too! They're still people
Also, didn't Omni-Man once mention his wife?? And son?? Shipping him w a man when he's clearly straight and in an established relationship is stupid
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
These are all great points but they've definitely fucked
🌙 artemislover Follow
INVINCIBLE?????
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Godddddd. My parents just do not know what privacy is, PLEASE STOP HAVING SEX WHEN I MIGHT BE HOME... please you're killing me
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Wait, shit, wrong blog...
🌭 hotdog Follow
shocking revelation: invincible has parents
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
??? Of course I have parents. Where'd you think I came from?
🌭 hotdog Follow
Honestly i thought you were from mars
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
from MARS????
#i'm not martian??? i don't even look martian #do i look martian?
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💃 thedancingquinn Follow
ATOM EVE LIKES MY FAVORITE BAND????
🚫 ohgodpleaseno Follow
really? How do you know?
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
Okay quick storytime
My friends and I wanted to go to see this band live for a LONG time, so we saved up money for years until we could finally afford it, right?
Well, the day we finally get to see them live, I look up and I see Atom Eve, just. Flying there. Above the crowd
She was singing, apparently very loudly and she looked like she was having sm fun. She saw me and waved!!! Atom Eve!!!! Waved at me!!!!!!!
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
:)
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
WAIT R YOU THE ACTUAL ATOM EVE
🧬 atomevesss Follow
Yeah. Check my Insta, there's a link to this blog!
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
AFKFHFHFHFJDJDJDJDDJDHFHSUEUEJEJ
#ATOM EVE TALKED TO ME!!!!!!
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🤖 officialrobot Follow
Today, Monster Girl told me to download this app and create a blog — I did not think it was necessary, but she insisted.
I decided to listen to her. She was very persuasive.
I will be sharing things about my day, as she has told me to do. Expect to hear from me after this.
👀 eyaseyaseays Follow
you really think we're gonna believe you're the real Robot?? C'mon.
‼️ notafurryyet Follow
Dude, RP exists. Let people live their lives in peace
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
This is so funny
‼️ notafurryyet Follow
That's... The real monster girl. Replying to a fake Robot post...
Dude I think he's real
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🎉 partyshitter Follow
The new Guardians are a fucking shit show. Are we seriously meant to believe they're going to protect us? Really??
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Oh Id like to see YOU almost get killed every single fucking day without one fucking break only for asholes like you to shit on us like that. We almost die every single day!!! Were the ones geting our hands dirty not you
🤖 officialrobot Follow
I'd* assholes* We're*
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Your supposed to be with me in this one
🤖 officialrobot Follow
You're*
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☪️ somanykates Follow
The Immortal kinda... 👀
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
WHAT
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💥 explosionsbaby Follow
I cant believe she cheated on me... what a bitch
🧬 atomevesss Follow
😐
☪️ somanykates Follow
We're going to have a fucking talk, Rex.
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Shit
🍐 shrinkshrek Follow
You had this one coming buddy
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
The fact that Miles Morales canonically reads JJK, though...
🔫 shootmeplease Follow
INVINCIBLE LIKES MARVEL?? AND JJK???
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Why is everyone always surprised when I like something? I don't get it
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
:(
🧬 atomevesss Follow
I cannot have just found out you're still alive through Tumblr...
🧬 atomevesss Follow
Seriously though. Are you okay now? I know you're not mentally, after the whole Chicago thing w your dad, but at least physically?
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
I'll survive, I guess
💔 thisishowtobeah Follow
INVINCIBLE?? It is such a relief to see you're still here after the whole Chicago ordeal Mr Invincible
📸 definitelyinsanebaby Follow
Yeah maybe don't remind him of that rn??
💔 thisishowtobeah Follow
OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY
#I AM SO SO SO SORRY #omg i hope you're doing good mr invincible :(((
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sunflowerskies00 · 1 day
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bet my heart, part 7
bees are gonna make wild honey
series masterlist
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"You're distracted," Jake informs me as the band stops. I knew it. He knew it. We all knew I was distracted. This sound check was going to shit, and we all knew it.
"Thank you for that captain obvious," I roll my eyes at him.
"We can take a break," Damien offers. I shake my head, we couldn't. We needed to get the sound check done, and I needed to know that my show tonight wasn't going to be an absolute shit show. I didn't have high hopes for either one of those things to be successful.
"Let's just run it one more time," I say.
"Sage," Jake says. I glance over towards him, and he has an all-knowing look on his face.
"Okay, five minutes," I agree. I put my mic down and I'm off the stage in a matter of seconds. I hear footsteps behind me and I assume it's Jake. He's in front of me before I realize it, and he comes to a stop so I can't keep going.
"What's going on with you? Is it Quinn?" He asks. I raise an eyebrow, he knew it was Quinn, he just wanted me to give him the confirmation of his assumptions. "Fine, I know it's Quinn, what's going on?" He asks.
"I don't know," I answer honestly. He raises an eyebrow at me this time, waiting for me to elaborate. "I don't know what's going on between us, we have a lot to talk about and I have to wait for him to get here in a couple of days," I explain.
"Oh, so you two are finally going to admit you're in love with each other?" He asks. Apparently, I must have some weird look on my face because his next words are, "Don't look at me like that, we all know you're in love with him, and he's in love with you, the only two people who don't realize it are you and Quinn, it's sad really." My mouth opens, but I don't say anything just stare at him. "Just take five, breathe, do what you need to do, but just know that everyone knows that man is in love with you it's sad," That's all he says before leaving and I'm assuming going back to the stage. I spend the next five minutes with my back pressed against a wall, eyes closed, and trying to get my shit together so I can make it through this sound check and concert.
My mind is still racing when I walk back onto the stage and pick up my microphone.
"You good?" Damien asks. I nod my head, even if I wasn't, I could fake it.
"Can we switch it up for sound check guys?" I ask them.
"What song?" Jake asks.
"Let's do an old one, one that I gave to someone else, Friends Don't," I suggest. I had written the song a couple of years ago, and it didn't fit the vibe I had going on in my music so it got sold to another artist, however, the song was about my not-so-friend-like relationship with Quinton.
Miraculously I make it through our soundcheck song, shocking for everyone. What's even more shocking is when I leave the stage, Quinn is standing there, staring at me. He wasn't supposed to get in until late tonight, so I'm confused as to why I'm looking at him right now.
"I thought you're plane landed at like midnight? I ask him. That's what leaves my mouth instead of hi.
"It was supposed to, but I was going insane so I rearranged my schedule, and here I am," He lifts a shoulder, it's a half-shrug. He was here, we could talk, I needed this conversation to happen. I take a step closer to him and then Lucy appears out of nowhere.
"Hair, makeup, clothes," she says. I glance at Quinn, I'm sure the desperation for this conversation is showing in my eyes.
"Go, do your job, I'll be here whenever you're done," he says, a small smile on his face. I force a nod and follow Lucy down the hall, tossing one last glance back at Quinn.
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oldhalloweentape · 20 hours
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🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️
(Love Language Pt. II Edition!)
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(Not my picture!)
(Here’s Pt. II, I’ll try to get a crack on the other pieces I’m planning on doing soon! For now, enjoy this!)
Their love language: Physical Touch, Quality Time, Gift Giving, and Words of Affirmation (Pt. I here!)
Gift Giving
- Alright so, we all know that presence of Venture is a gift itself, they also love giving you other gifts. This love language is the most obvious one when it comes to Venture, they just love giving things to people.
- And, you being their number one you’re no exception, you get the most stuff in all honesty.
- The amount of rock kids you guys have alone tells all you need to know.
- Their gifts specifically either hold a lot of sentimental value, or they saw it and went, “Yeah, reader would like that.”
- They take mental note of everything you like, even the littlest of things, like if you walk past a shop and something catches your eye, something unnoticeable for most, but to them? They’ll come back later to see if they can get it for you.
- Overthinks about what to get you when it comes to special gifts for the holidays, with Valentine’s Day, the day dedicated to stuff like this being the perfect example.
- They just want to give you something that you like, what you’d get use from however you see fit, and something that signifies how much they care for you and that’s reasonably a very hard thing to do.
- But also, they love receiving stuff from you in return, they do not care what it is, but the idea of you taking time to get them something is just so wonderful to them.
- Though it’s definitely a bonus if it’s based on the things they like, for example, new expedition tools, camping gear, hell even their favorite ice cream.
- Eventually, it gets to a point where you guys have specific spots at your places dedicated to some of the various gifts you’ve gotten each other and it is honestly the best.
Words of Affirmation
- Another obvious one, they’re a naturally very positive person and they just love to encourage people (besides Mauga of course), so obviously wouldn’t be weird to have uplifting words being thrown at you by them.
- There’s the usual “You’re doing great!” And “Keep it up, you can do it!”, but the more personal words of affection like “You did so well, I’m so proud of you mi vida!” Is understandably reserved for you.
- They take pride in being your partner and they make that abundantly clear by their words, and doing it right back at them is a great way of shooting an arrow in their heart and a lovestruck giggle from them.
- They have so many pet names for you in both English and Spanish, switching from both languages interchangeably, sometimes if they’re feeling overly excited they even end up changing from one language to the other in one sentence alone.
- The pet names are: Mi corazón, Sweetness, Mi vida, Amor, Babe, and other affectionate and personalized things but these five are the most used.
- If you guys work together, whether it be at Overwatch or as a fellow archeologist, I think alongside being encouraging and supportive of you they like complimenting and flirting with you. Mostly because physical PDA isn’t the place for both, they make do with being with you and fawning over you lol.
- That and they just love talking to you and getting your honest reaction to their honey-coated words.
- They just say anything that comes to mind, they don't see the point of refraining from doing so after all.
- Again, love letters are a part of this, scribbling down what they're feeling at the moment, and by the time it's done it's like affectionate word vomit.
- It doesn't matter though, they mean well and it's usually the cutest shit ever.
(Alright!! Here we are, Sloane is really bringing something out of me that is hellbent on being consistent for once and I gotta say, I like it. Hope you guys do too.)
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Text
Phantom Grin
Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam
Summary: Bruce Wayne visits his son's grave on the night of his resurrection. Will it change Jason's fate, or is it all simply inevitable?
Chapters: 6/?
Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain
Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character
Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd is Disabled, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Resurrected Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along
Chapter Six: Storybook
Later that night, he crept downstairs and ran into Dick. Dick smiled at him, and as he opened his mouth to speak, Jason gestured for him to stay silent. He waved his hands, with fear written all over his face, and Dick took him by the arm, and they went back upstairs. "What's-." Jason gestured for Dick to keep his voice down. Dick nodded and looked at Jason's backpack. "What's wrong?" Dick asked.
"Not safe," Jason whispered, "Help me."
"Help you leave?" Dick asked. Jason nodded. "Why? What happened?"
"Dad... Don't trust Dad," Jason whispered.
Dick looked at Jason, and it was obvious that Jason was planning to leave with or without his help. "Okay, listen to me... Jason, we can get out of here tonight if you don't feel safe," Dick whispered, "But as far as I know, Bruce would never hurt you—."
"Not safe, Dick," Jason interrupted.
"Okay, after we leave, will you help me understand what you mean?" Dick asked. Jason nodded. They crept back downstairs, and Dick took Jason out to the car. Jason felt a tingling pain like electricity, running from Jason's head to his shoulders. Nerve pain. After nearly a month of tests for his persistent headaches, his doctors realized that was the cause of Jason's near-constant pain. He slumped down in the seat and closed his eyes.
"Pain?" Dick asked. Jason nodded. "Is it bad?" He started driving away from the manor, and Jason shook his head. A lie, but he didn't want to risk Dick taking him back to the hospital. "Jason? What did you remember about Bruce that's so bad you wanted to run away?"
"Hitting me..."
"Are you sure it wasn't your birth father? I know Willis—." Jason pressed his palms against his eyelids. "Jason, you never really talked about Willis, but he hurt you..."
Jason lay his head back. Dick sighed. "Jason, do you trust me?" Dick asked.
"Don't know," Jason replied honestly. Dick nodded.
Dick didn't know what to say. He couldn't stop Jason's pain, and he couldn't fix his memories. There was nothing he could do, and Jason needed help. The boys drove outside of town, and as soon as Jason drifted off to sleep, Dick stopped at a hotel and checked in. He didn't do so because he believed Jason's memory. Dick did it because there was no use in stressing Jason out any more than Jason already was. He came back to the car and woke Jason. "Jason, wake up," Dick whispered. Jason sat up and followed Dick up to their room. Jason climbed into bed, and Dick sat on the other bed, watching the tv. Jason lay curled up. Bruce called Dick and Dick sent a text in reply. Dick deleted the message immediately after sending it.
Dick sat awake the whole night, trying to figure out how to help Jason. When Jason awakened, he curled up in a ball facing Dick and mumbled, "Help?" Dick nodded.
"Yeah... Help," Dick replied, "How'd you and Cassie get along?"
Jason gave Dick a thumb's up. "I feel like you two would've gotten along either way. Jason, do you trust me now?" Dick asked.
Jason didn't answer. He wondered if he could trust anyone. Jason felt lost and alone in his own mind as he thought about Dick's question. An answer wouldn't have meant anything. He could've lied if he wanted to. "Who's Robin?" Jason asked.
Dick lay on his side facing Jason. "Robin's who I used to be, who you used to be, and now there's another. Jason, I could tell you everything I know, but it's up to you to decide whether or not you believe me," Dick whispered, "I'm not going to lie to you."
"Tell me?" Jason asked.
"I'm going to tell you a story... This story's true. It's yours, and I want you to pay attention," Dick whispered, "When Jason Peter Todd was twelve years old, he stole the tires off of the Batmobile and made Batman laugh. Jason, at first glance, was rough around the edges, he was temperamental, impulsive, and some would even say he was impatient. Batman didn't care. He saw something in Jason, and he took him home.
There, Jason got to know Bruce Wayne, the man behind the mask. With every passing day, Bruce grew to love Jason more and more, and Jason started to love him. Bruce made Jason feel safe. When Jason felt safe, he showed his true self. He was compassionate, warm, and some would even say charming, but I wouldn't go that far.
Jason became Bruce's Robin. They were nearly inseparable... Then came Dick. He could've been far more understanding when he met Jason, but he was upset with Bruce. Dick felt he'd been replaced, but things eventually smoothed out between the three. As Jason got older, Bruce started noticing how strong Jason's emotions were. Jason's compassion was often paired off with rage. He was harsh in his dealings with wrongdoers, and it frightened Bruce. He couldn't control Jason, so he asked Jason to take a step back for a while, not realizing there was much more going on.
Jason was looking for his mother. He ran away from home searching for her, and Bruce came around and tried to help. Jason found her. In the process, he crossed a horrible man, a man that would later kill Jason.
When Jason died, Bruce's heart broke. He put Jason's costume up and tried desperately to pack away the hurt that came with it. Bruce never wanted to live in a world without Jason... But he had to go on because his city needed him to." Dick took a deep breath, and Jason closed his eyes. Pieces of the story came together for him, and they felt real, but he wasn't sure. Jason couldn't cry. He didn't have the words to explain his tears. He lay there, staring at Dick, who stared back at him.
Dick sat in silence with Jason like that for what felt like hours. "Jason?" Dick whispered. Jason nodded. "We love you. I know you don't know that for sure, but we do. None of us want to lose you again."
"Dad?" Jason asked. Dick nodded.
"Yeah, especially Bruce. Jason, I'm gonna ask you one more time, and then I won't ask you again. Do you trust me?" Dick questioned. Jason nodded. "Then let's call Bruce and let him know you're okay."
Jason nodded. "Mor-ning?" Jason whispered. The word felt unnatural on his tongue, and the corners of his mouth twitched. He knew he didn't get the word right. Dick smiled and nodded.
"You had it... And yeah, we'll call in the morning," Dick replied, "Go back to bed. I'll be here if you need me."
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emo-trash88 · 19 hours
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Hello! Its me again, i LOVED your Tyler and Aiden one and i'm back with one more. So think about it, Tyler knows baseball right? So why dont he use his bat skills? (is that what its called?) To beat the shit out of phantoms when they first go to the phantom dimension? Maybe something like thr reader gets pulled by a phantom and tyler crashed the phantoms head with his bat?
I love this! Fr this, like man, put yourself to use for once 😭 I'm putting this at like the first-ish part when they all get attacked on the bus.
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Home Run
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Tyler x Reader
Pronouns: Second person
Word count: 491
Tw: Uhhh bashing in heads??? also blood.
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So this wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending your nights with your boyfriend. Usually you would've expected sitting with him in his bedroom watching some stupid cringy movie or you forcing him to play a random game you found the night before. On the other hand, you haven't really had a night like that with him since Savannah, so what did you honestly expect?
Well regardless of how you feel about being unable to live your best life, you don't have a choice. You lay in your bed, waiting for it to finally hit midnight, like it has every other night. As you lay there you feel your mind wandering, and eventually you start thinking about where you all were last night. The bus graveyard, you were all running. But before you can finish the thought, you black out.
Almost as soon as you open your eyes, you hear Ashlyn whisper "Duck" and you, along with the others, crouch down almost in unison. As you all get down everyone starts brainstorming how to get out of this situation, how to get away from the lurking phantom. You sit there silently, almost in a trance, anxiety coursing through your veins.
After about a minute of debating, Ashlyn perks up and her eyes widen slightly, a sight you've gotten used to. She hushes everyone and after a second says "Hide under the seats.". You along with everyone else start army crawling under the seats, peering out periodically to see if the phantom is nearby.
As you try your best to stay still, you hear a semi loud creak. A creak thats too loud to be safe. You cover your mouth with your hand, your breath becoming more frantic with each passing second. You turn to look behind you and before you can do anything, the phantom grabs you by the ankle, pain searing up your leg as you let out a scream.
"(Name)!" You hear yelled, too freaked to be able to figure out whose voice it was. You grab onto a seat above you and start trying to pull yourself up while (attempting to) kick the phantom away. You let out pained grunts as the phantom digs deeper into your ankle, managing to weaken your grip on the seat above you.
You almost give up, the pain becoming almost unbearable for you, but before you let go, you hear a crunch. A loud disgusting crunch. And almost immediately afterwards, the phantom lets go, letting you pull yourself up.
You push yourself out into the aisle, seeing Tyler panting with a broken wooden bat and the phantom laying limp on the ground. You look at Tyler, tears in your eyes either from fear or pain. "Ben! (name) needs help!" Tyler shouts, running to you and pulling you into his arms.
This is when you're finally able to look down, and all you see is blood staining your pants, shoes and socks. It's slowly dripping onto the floor of the bus like a melted ice pop. As you stare at it, almost everything stops. You know Tyler is trying to talk to you to make sure you're okay (you're very obviously not) and you can see Ben tending to your wound with everyone else either staring at you or the dead phantom. But none of it feels real.
After a couple minutes Ben finishes wrapping your wound and Tyler pulls you closer to him (if that was even possible). "Please don't ever do that again" he says softly and he genuinely sounds worried. You nod in agreement and for just a moment, this feels a little better than a cringy movie night.
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Omg I'm so sleep deprived, but I hope this turned out good :)
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turtletaubwrites · 2 days
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✨1,000 Followers Celebration!!✨
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I can't describe how much being part of this community has meant to me. The first fic I posted here was in November in the middle of some major health and life crises (which I talk about in my about me post if you'd like to know), and I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through it without all of your support and encouragement, as well as all the laughs and good times that y'all have shared with me.
It blows my mind that there are 1,000 of you here 🤯🤯🤯 I'm so grateful for all the love, it means the world to me! 🖤🙏🏼
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Here's what I've got going on:
I wanted to plan something extra special for this milestone, but y'all have been following me faster than I can write! For the 900 milestone I decided to circle back around to Numbers Game since it was the most requested fic, and I'm so happy that the bad men of the Cross Guild seem to be hitting the spot 😅
WIP Updates
I keep my current and upcoming wips + announcements listed on my pinned Masterlist post, and here's what I've got at the moment:
Numbers Game ~ Part 13 will be out later today!
Current WIPS: Numbers Game 14, and We've All Got Needs 28 Upcoming WIPS: Misty Eyes 6, 1 request, Wrong Side of the Bars 2, a few WAGN extra scenes, and 4 requests that came in while they were closed) Announcements: Requests will remain closed until I complete the next batch of Numbers Game, as well as the requests on my list. I'm sorry for the delay, I keep turning them into multi-chaptered fics! If you've submitted a request, know that it is on my list, and I've already started outlining!
New Fic Rec Masterlist
I have been reading some amazing fics lately, please check out my new Fic Rec Masterlist, and show the authors some love!!
Fic & Personal Playlists
I never made playlists for writing until I was tagged in an ask game, and it was so fun! Typically my brain will only let me listen to the same 1-10 songs over and over for a month or more, lol. So in addition to the fic playlists I'm starting, I've made a playlist of my current hyperfixation songs if you'd like to check in on the sounds looping through my head that week 😅 Plus a dump playlist where I'm slowly adding all the past hyperfixation songs I can remember because sometimes I need to pull one back in when there's a void, lol. I love getting song recs too! This reminds me of hooking up my dingy little ipod nano (that I still have, his name is Desmond 🥰) to all of my friend's computers to steal their music since I couldn't afford to buy my own 😅
TurtleTaub Current Hyperfixation Playlist TurtleTaub All the Fixation's Playlist Misty Eyes ~ Law x Reader Playlist Bend Until You Break ~ Playlist More to come, and feel free to send me song recs, they make me so happy 🥰🎶
Next Fic Poll
To celebrate this milestone I'm going to write one of the requests/wips of your choice that I've got on the books next.
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
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viperwhispered · 2 days
Note
New fic idea: Jamil VS the ex
Context: Jamil and s/o have been dating for while. Things are going great and everyone is just happy. There are no real jealousy issues on either side cause they trust each other and Jamil is confident he's the best catch around. If there is any jealousy, they talk it out like mature human beings since being petty doesn't solve anything. Though there is defintley possessiveness, it never leaves the bedroom and they both enjoy it.
Introducing the ex: just a complete toxic dump. As in, shitty romance novels stereotypical male lead toxic dump. Just controlling, verbally/emotionally abusive, physically intimidates people, tries to use sex to fix things, doesn't know when to leave their exes alone, gets physical with love rivals, etc. For reference feel free to look at Christian Grey from 50 Shades, Hardin Scott from After, and Edward Cullen from Twilight. Honestly it didn't last more than a week yet the ex continued to stalk our poor reader and ruin any attempt at a finding a new lover.
Cue them getting to NRC and finally having a chance at a relationship with our boy Jamil. But unfortunately all good things must come to an end when reader invites Jamil home to meet their family. Let's say that if the reader is not from TWST then they have a way to dimension travel and the family is in on it.
Jamil is quickly welcomed into the family and they make it clear that he's the best boyfriend the reader has had so far. The reader and their family are quick to warn Jamil about the ex and the sabotages. He learns the details from his albi's angry rants about all the bullshit this guy did.
At one point the reader turns to him and goes: "you have my permission to be as much of a possessive scheming bastard as you want. Ruin his reputation, frame him, humiliate him, I don't care! He's messed with my life far too much for me to care about him anymore. If we run into him, feel free to shove it in his face that I am yours. Hold me, kiss me, leave hickies, whatever! I trust you to know my boundaries and when to do it. Hell, if you manage to get rid of him, then we might as well skip the formalities and go straight to the alter."
Cue Jamil plotting:
1. Get the ego boost from going PDA in front of your lover’s ex. Note: make sure beloved is wearing his hoodie/jersey for maximum boost.
2. Get rid of the abusive ex who's been harming his beloved for YEARS.
3. Plan the wedding.
Meanwhile, the reader is just enjoying the extra affection while munching popcorn as their dear boyfriend gets rid of the biggest nuisance in their life. Yes they get turned on by it, especially the smirk. They're planning to thoroughly spoil him when this is over, both in and out of the bedroom.
Bonus: in your professional opinion, what route would Jamil take to get rid of the ex and how sadistic does he get?
Hasdkföjask yes just let Jamil loose on the problem and enjoy the fireworks.
Also hasdfads in my professional opinion, huh? I feel honored. 🥺👉👈
Oop this got long so below the cut it goes.
(Also boy am I glad the ex did not get to do too much lasting damage to reader’s ability to have a healthy relationship. Jamil already has enough baggage for both of them to go through. Still, someone get a restraining order on that ex, stat.)
“Yes they get turned on by it, especially the smirk.” Just… too true. Man’s just way too hot when he’s all confident and cocky I swear.
Also ngl this brand of possessive I can definitely get behind.
Also I love that tasklist, just not sure which one I love more, the note to task 1 or just the entirety of task 3. Tho of course, Jamil being Jamil (and I may or may not be projecting here) I’m sure there’d be plenty of subtasks / -steps to each of these.
(Also sidenote yes Jamil definitely would know how to turn up the charm for the in-laws for extra approval points. What a charming well-behaved young man, just delightful 😇)
Now, the options coming to my mind are:
Something “private”: only the ex (and reader) needs to know what happened exactly, but it’s enough to spook the ex and keep him in line. (I mean, getting snake whispered? Should be pretty scary, especially depending on what Jamil does with it. Oh boy, the potential.)
Something public: ruin this guy’s image, future prospects, credit score, everything, make everyone see him for the cretin he is. Might cause backlash depending on just how concerning this guy is, but also long-lasting consequences.
Ignore the gnat, just rub things in his face by just being super sweet and loveydovey wherever he happens to be without ever directly confronting him because he’s not worth the effort (not too likely, Jamil’s definitely way too petty (or incensed) to just leave it at that).
Now, getting information on people may be Azul’s specialty, but I’m sure Jamil won’t have too much trouble finding out enough (like where the ex works, lives, stuff like that. If this is a different world (or even just different country), I’m sure reader can help him with the details of what is possible and all).
And by the sounds of things, this particular jerkwad is bound to turn up anyway. So maybe it’s just a case of waiting and being ready, setting up the favorable circumstances.
So Jamil and s/o would be going out and about. Maybe to the shops, maybe just a walk outside, whatever they know is likely to land them on the ex’s path.
The thing about the hoodie is that it’s not necessarily obvious (to the ex) that it belongs to Jamil, rather than you. So he’d probably go for the jersey (since that name obviously isn’t yours (at least yet)), or weather permitting he’d only loan out his hoodie to you at an opportune time.
Like, as soon as you two realize the ex is around, you’re all oh, it sure is a little chilly isn’t it, have my hoodie my dear, it’ll keep you warm. Cue makeout session (and definitely no smug glances from Jamil to the ex, no siree. Nothing of the sort when he holds you tighter, pulls you closer, lets his hands trail along your back, into your back pockets or perhaps even under your shirt. Definitely.).
When ex comes over, you’re conveniently in a public place (probably conveniently within sight of cameras, too, so there’d be something on record to go to authorities with, if needed, and for extra consequences).
I’m thinking Jamil might be all “innocent”, at least overtly (and as much as he can hold himself back - he’s used to mingling with the high and mighty and keeping face, but this is more personal) - tho there might be some underhanded barbs with plausible deniability, or just all the casual things about how you’re Jamils and how you’ve been together for however long and how Jamil just met your parents etc. Basically just reminding the ex of what he can’t have.
Tho once Jamil distances himself (and you), from the guy, I could see Jamil going to somewhere more secluded (with or without you, depending on how you agreed in advance). And if and when the ex follows, he gets a very different side of Jamil. Sharp tongue, no holds barred, told in no uncertain terms how pathetic and despicable he is, and to keep away from you, your family, and anyone else who has any connection to you. But especially you.
The only problem I have is thinking of just what he’d do to seal the deal. I mean, probably Jamil would make the guy do something bad / unpleasant with snake whisper. Like, make the dude do something humiliating, film it and leave it on his phone for him to find later? Make him go out into the crowds to make a fool out of himself? (Perhaps in a location with his friends / family / whatever around?) Get him to send some very terrible messages to some folks?
I think I’m a bit too nice to think of just how far Jamil could go, and snake whisper does have its limitations, too. Like to really ruin someone, you need to do something more impactful than just one unfortunate action.
(I mean I suppose maybe he could make the dude kill someone and go to prison for that but yeah let’s not.) Robbery, tho? I’m sure there’s some sort of a crime we can squeeze out of the guy that would not be too bad for bystanders (not that Jamil would be that bothered, tbh) but would still be enough of a consequence, and which could still be achieved with snake whisper.
That, or just make the guy walk into a cesspit or something, especially if it’s right before something important.
I’m kinda just spitting this out (and brain’s a bit fried) but also this was such a juicy concept I had to jump on it.
Honestly I feel like there’d be so much more to be said just for the PDA part and the possessiveness and protectiveness Jamil would feel and everything else, and maybe I’ll get back to that another time.
Did you have any particular thoughts of how you think it might go?
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soap-ify · 2 months
Text
some vampire!reader x vampire hunters!141 thoughts that are refusing to leave my mind. pardon me this is unedited and i'm sleepy as fuck. feminine terms used on reader.
cw — they basically kidnap you.
“i dinnae think there’s any more of those creatures left here!”
“shut your whining, johnny.”
ghost and soap had been bickering back and forth, serving nothing more than to worsen the headache blooming in price’s head. at least gaz was silent, observant as ever. price pretended to ignore the amused grin that adorned gaz’s lips very much clearly.
the appearances of vampires around the front of the woods had significantly started to lessen due to these vampire hunters who actually gave a fuck about their job, dedicated in clearing out the parts so the civilians could sleep peacefully at night.
though at the same time, it meant that finding a vampire was as hard as digging up some treasure. it was infuriating, in all honesty, especially for price. these mindless patrols were fucking up with his head, the lack of activity making him more irritated.
plus the rest three just seemed too immersed in some banter to even care. though eventually, a soft rustle from the bushes caused them all to fall quiet due to price’s hand gesturing to them to stop, observant pair of eyes carefully looking around.
“there’s something here.” commanding as ever, price took the initiative of stepping forward, his pistol clutched in his hands.
the four of them discreetly stepped through the bush, coming across you. you, who were standing there wide eyed, hands trembling in pure fear, taking a step back from the hunters in front of you.
weird. you were supposed to bare your fangs, to attack them and try to suck their blood for your life. but no, you were acting more like a poor trapped bunny, not a vampire.
“price.” ghost grumbled and stopped price by holding his shoulders, pulling him back slightly. this masked man was terrifying observant, eyes boring deep within your skin, as if unpeeling every layer of you to grasp the poor soul within, for the sake of his own amusement perhaps?
he could see you salivating, unable to hold in the drool that glistened pathetically under the moonlight, yet not making any moves whatsoever. “you thinkin’ what i’m thinkin’, simon?” gaz nudged ghost slightly, those dark eyes looking at you a bit more kindly, almost interested.
“look at the wee lass, captain.” soap could barely hold in a snicker, already putting his gun back into the holster. he couldn’t care less, in all honesty. what were you going to do, bite him?
price had oddly became the quietest, his stare making you try to shuffle away uneasily. though before you could even try to move a little, his hand shot out and grabbes you by the shoulder, dragging you over to him and the rest, ignoring your hisses.
“don’t think she’s like other of those bloodthirsty fuckers.” price huffed out curiously, his other hand forcing your mouth open, thumb running over your fangs. weak. what had you been feeding on to lack the power others like you possessed?
“how ‘bout we take her home, cap’n?” gaz mumbled and took out a pack of cigarette from his pocket, drawing one out.
“i agree with him.” ghost mumbled, taking a step forward, towering over you. a shadow eager to destroy. “we can study her like that, y’know.”
his words made you sweat coldly, throat tightening up, unable to utter a single form of protest while price dragged you almost effortlessly, making you walk alongside them until you reached a jeep parked beside one of the many trees.
“c’mon, hen.” soap eagerly opened the door, giving you a push inside. “ye’re comin’ with us.”
finally some activity for all four of them.
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