#i hope i snap out of this lmao i really cannot deal with walking into the holidays as a hollow shell of a person

[camgoloud]

who else up feeling the soul-numbing empty hopelessness for absolutely no reason this friday night

[howdoyousleep3]

Hi K<3

it’s the meal-eating tinder girl? i guess you could call me that? lmao it’s been a while!!

lots have happened since i sent that ask saying that meal making tinder guy had ended things

(he reached out after like three weeks saying how he still wanted to eat breakfast with my family, yet said «uhm…we haven’t spoken in like three weeks, what do you think??🤣» when i DARED to ask if he thought we should start talking again considering HE contacted ME🙂🙂)

((aaand i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before but we do go to the same school and this man could not look me in my eyes but would send me a snap about something entirely dumb like complaining about his yoghurt every time i walked past him))

anyway, that’s not what i’m here to complain about

i’m really sorry for venting to you but none of my friends get me on this😭

but i fucking miss getting my nipples sucked:( i have TEARED UP on several occasions just thinking about it!!! and idk what to do w myself!!!!!!

i’ve tried getting back on tinder but i just cant get over how attracted to him i was😩😩 objectively he’s not that hot and NONE of my friends agree with me on this (except one, who just refers to him as «butt», cause he has a glorious one)

but like he was just so BIG and BUFF and BURLY and his fucking neck tattoo made me WEAK IN THE KNEES and i sometimes just get these flashes of him whimpering in my ear when he came and i cannot fucking deal.

i need to get a grip, this is the same man who ate three whole boiled eggs with nothing else for breakfast. just the eggs. put them in a bowl and asked if i would like to sit outside with him. so i did. sat there on the lawn while he ate three whole boiled eggs right next to me. then drove me to work and the smell followed me all day. i can still feel it sometimes.

ANYWHO thank you for giving me some of your time. do feel free to ignore this

i hope you gave a lovely rest of your day, whatever time it is when you read this❤️

🤭😂 There is so much in this Ask and it made me laugh so hard in some parts omfg. Babe! I'm so happy to hear from you, my goodness.

First of alllllll, ugh I don't like this man! He wants to eat breakfast with your family and send you snaps but won't make eye contact with you and tries to make you feel dumb for wanting to make it work again?? EWW.

UGH, babe I'm so so so sorry. 😩 As a nipple sucking enthusiast I seriously feel for you.

He had a good ass, he had neck tattoos, he was BIG and BUFF and BURLY and whimpered in your ear when he came...but we keep those as fantasies and spank bank material because we deserve better in our real relationship.

not the eggs this is so fucking funny i just started laughing and kept laughing fuck

I'm sorry it took me a while to respond to this and I hope you're feeling happy and healthy! Lub you lots. 💕

[hereforhalstead]

Puppy Dog Eyes

*Gif not mine, full credit to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: Yes!

Please please please can you write no 15 from your prompt list?

I just know you'd be able to write the cutest thing from it and I love your fluff Jay so much.

• Warnings: Bit of angst?

• Summary: Jay comes home in a bad mood and is looking for the jumper of his that you’re wearing and cannot resist the look of you in it.

• Words: 1,804.

• A/N : IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG😭 I’ve had such a busy few weeks and everytime I though I’d be able to fit some writing in, something got in the way. This is a very short one but wanted to get back into it with some fluffy!Jay, also a bit all over the place but we love to see it lmao. Working through my requests so keep them coming as I love to see what ideas you come up with. Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy🥰

***

“Have you seen that navy jumper you bought me last year?” Jay’s voice echos across the room as you hear him digging through the drawers in the bedroom you share

“Can’t say I have” you innocently respond, bringing the blanket you had encased yourself in up to your chin to conceal your attire

He strides out of the room, one hand on his hip with the other running through his hair as he examines every possible space for the missing garment.

“Maybe you left it at work?”

You try and change the subject, quickly trying to avert his attention to the TV show you were watching “Has this guy been in a film we watched recently? I really recognize him?”

You hear him grunt from behind you, knowing he didn’t even stop to look in your direction as he continues his hunt. 

“Are you sure you haven’t seen it baby? You always say it was your favorite” Jay pushes your question to one side as he individually pulls off each of the jackets on the stand by the front door. 

Without even looking at him you can see the furrow in his brows, the huff that is about to escape his throat, the way his tongue would be pressed against the roof of his mouth in frustration. 

Shit. 

You’d been off work with a fever so wanted nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriends clothes and tuck yourself away under a blanket for the day. Normally, Jay didn’t care if you stole his jumpers. In fact he loved it.

Seeing you with his clothes hanging from your frame as you traipse about the apartment bought upon him a happiness he couldn’t explain.

Watching as you push up the sleeves as they extend past your wrists, the way the fabric would hit the top of your thighs and how his eyes would be glued to you when you reached to grab something off the top shelf to reveal an inch more of skin was one of the greatest pleasures he ever experienced.

On this day though, he wasn’t in the mood. He walked through the front door with a grunt, throwing his keys on the side and slamming it behind him. He didn’t know you were home from work as he usually tried to keep his bad moods hidden from you. 

No matter how hard you tried to get him to open up and share his feelings, he had his own way of dealing with things and you respected that. He knew you were there for him and that he could talk to you about anything when and if he wanted to and that was enough to keep you satisfied. 

All he wanted was to make a quick trip to the local shop to pick up some things for you to help you feel better. Your favorite ice cream, a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice or even just some cold and flu tablets to help ease your symptoms. 

“I think it was Fast and Furious” you innocently comment, now beginning to feel a bead of sweat drip down your back from the rising temperature caused by the blanket and feeling under somewhat of an interrogation. 

“You don’t think I’ve lost it do you?” Jay again ignores your question to which you chuckle “Lost the jumper or lost your marbles?” 

You turn to look at him as he merely murmurs at your excuse of a joke “Earth to Jay” you call out, causing him to snap his head over to you which for the first time allows you to see the irritated look that was sweeping across his face.

“Why do you want the jumper so bad? Just get another?”

He immediately stopped what he was doing.

“It’s just a jumper, no big deal. You own plenty of others” you unbeknownst to you, continued to dig yourself into a hole. “What makes that one so special? It was from an outlet, it’s hardly fancy”

You desperately kept the blanket pressed into your neck to hide the top of the jumper he was currently looking for.

You felt bad for wearing it when he clearly wanted to, but felt it had gone too far for you to suddenly confess you’d been wearing it the entire time he seemed to be ripping the place apart to try and find it.

“I shouldn’t have to give a reason Y/N, I just want to wear the jumper so I can go to the store in minus 10 degree weather to get you some stuff to cheer you up without freezing to death” 

You huff and stand to let the blanket fall from you and pool at your feet “Fine, you want the jumper so bad just take it” you spit out.

Attempting to wriggle your arms free to throw it at him with the anger that had built up inside of you. 

Why was he so set on wearing the stupid jumper when all you wanted to do was be engulfed in something that reminded you of him and bought you the comfort you were craving? 

I mean it was his jumper but.. sharing’s caring right?

The speed and level of roughness you were trying to get the jumper off with wasn’t making it an easy job. You were stuck in the material without knowing which was the arm hole and which was the head hole.

Now stood in the middle of the apartment, head buried into the fabric as you desperately tried to pull the jumper off of your clammy skin.

“Baby, just stop. Hold on” Jay’s voice was instantly softer than the annoyance his tone was previously laced with “Let me help”. 

You felt his hands grabbing at the end of the sleeves, pulling them to help you slide them off your arms before finally lifting the entire thing from your frame. 

Being face to face with Jay caused every ounce of frustration to drain from your body in a flash. You knew you didn’t have a right to be in a mood with him for wanting his own jumper, but the mixture of him being in a huff from work and you being too comfortable in his scent caused the situation to esculate to a stupid level over a $10 jumper from a store in Miami. 

“Why didn’t you say you were wearing it? You know I don’t mind when you wear my stuff” his words were as soothing to you as medication, the way the sweet words just fell off his tounge was one of the things you loved most about him. 

He always knew what to say and in the best ways.

“You seemed so desperate to find it so I felt bad” you confessed, head resting on his chest to avoid his eye contact “I could hardly own up after watching you trash the place”.

You felt his chest rumble in a silent laughter, bringing his hand to the back of your head to place a kiss to your temple “I’m glad you find it funny, thought you were going to kill me with the mood you were in” you attempted to shift the conversation into a lighter tone as he propped his head on top of yours. 

“I couldn’t kill you” he huffed “Then I definitely wouldn’t get the jumper back, contaminating evidence and all that” you snapped your head up to meet his gaze. Seeing the light in his eyes and the grin he was trying to suppress made  a smile creep onto your face as you shook your head “You’re an idiot”. 

You returned your head back to the crook of his neck, the pair of you standing in a comfortable silence as his hand lightly ran up and down your back with the occasional kiss to the side of your head as you nestled into him further. 

“Lift your head up baby” he gently demanded, retracting himself from you to separate your bodies. 

You let out a groan as he took a step back, watching as he propped the jumper back above your head, looking up in confusion as he tilted his head in a gesture “Arms up”. 

“You don’t wanna wear it?” you asked whilst already extending your arms to return the jumper back onto your body. Innocently pouting your lip and widening your eyes in a guiltless manner as he smiled down at you, excitement running through you like a child at Christmas.

“Don’t give me that puppy dog face. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

You didn’t need convincing as he pulled the jumper down your body and watched as you instinctively bought the cuffs to your face in comfort “You’re my weakness, you know that?” He confessed, gently cupping your chin with his hand.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, he always knew how to leave you speechless and this was no exception. He let out a content hum as you pressed your lips against his, lingering them for a few seconds as he pressed his hand into your lower back to keep you against him. 

“I’m gonna go get us a drink, want one?” you asked, ushering yourself away from him but only getting a few steps before he reached out to grab your hand and bring you back into him. 

“You wanna know why it’s my favourite?” he softly asked, grazing his fingertips up and down your arms as a shy smile formed on his face, a harsh swallow soon ensued as you nodded. 

“It reminds me of you and you is where I always want to be”. 

**

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[corruptedconfessions]

okok i love the head cannon where bakubro like is horny 24/7 because of his quirk and thats y he is so anger. Maybe can you write something on tha?

(pls ignore if this is a little sloppy thanks to repeated technical issues this request was deleted and rewritten 3 times)

Hnnn I love this headcanon so much. Ive had many discussions about how Bakugou’s quirk might affect his blood pressure and libido lmao. I think eventually him and his partner will have to get him a sleeve or something to fuck before they get it on to calm him down, or for him to deal with himself afterwards bc whoo boi. Recovery time? Never heard of it. His stamina is incredible both in bed and out.

But I like to think that he doesn’t know it at first. The dude never really jerks off because friction + highly explosive sweat? Not a good combo, and he likes his dick attached, thank you very much. Between his studious nature and that whole, not blowing his dick off thing he’s not really into sex and honestly doesn’t really think about it.

His first time will be with you. It’ll be after an intense villain battle or sparring session with you, a total spur of the moment, adrenaline rush kind of thing. Teeth clashing, fumbling hands ripping away at clothes, touching, grabbing, feeling anything you can reach. Both of you come almost embarrassingly quick. But it was so good. That post nut clarity is what hits him h a r d. Total and complete euphoria. He feels a calmness that he hasn’t felt since he was a kid, since before his quirk manifested. It doesn’t last long, he’s ready to go another round before you even come down from your brain rattling orgasm adrenaline crash drug combo.

From then on it will be a 0-1000% horniness difference. It’s like an itch he’s had all his life but he didn’t realize it, and know that he knows it’s there its all the more aggravating. He’ll become even more snappy and aggressive (if possible), put on edge, ready to explode at any moment until he finally snaps and fucks you again. That time everyone notices the sudden change in attitude from him, how much calmer he is…at least as calm as Bakugou can be. No one knows why…except you. Who suddenly has to repeatedly take time off or get stuck sitting doing paper work every week since you have such a hard time walking without pain these days. The asshole enjoys watching you blush and stutter as you try to come up for excuses when friends or coworkers worriedly tell you that you should really go into the doctor and get this checked out! He definitely gets smug about fucking you so good you can’t even sit right

He jumps you whenever he can after that, quickies in supply closets, blow jobs or hand jobs under his desk, all followed by getting your brains fucked out over or after dinner. He goes and goes and goes until you pass out, unable to take anymore. And then he keeps going, burrowing his face in your shoulder as he fucks you even unconscious, only stopping once he physically cannot cum anymore. Even then he stays seated inside as he snuggles up to your back, wrapping his arms around you, burrowing his face into the back of your neck, listening to your breathing until he falls asleep.

One thing no one can deny, though, is how much more productive he becomes as the two of your sex lives becomes more active. It isn’t uncommon for him to find breaks in the case, or to have a hard sudden realization during that post nut clarity. More than once he has fucked you over his desk, pushed you into blowing him or jerking him off while he’s still working on paperwork, or staring down at the reports for the latest villain on the loose. Only he would use sex to get better at his job.

But it does make him better. Even if you find yourself limping and hobbling around more often because the man doesn’t have the word gentle in his sex vocabulary. Every time is rough and fast, pinning you down hard and fucking you hard enough you can feel every thrust in your tummy, and you’re left tingling and numb for hours after, still feeling him inside you.

Your sex life wont be boring that’s for sure, at one point or another the two of you are sure to go looking for stimulants to help you keep up with him, aphrodisiacs will definitely at least be discussed at one point or another,  along with things to maybe help him…calm down. (Which he gets agitated and claims you just need to keep up)

Mr. Chef over here will definitely edit your diet to more energizing and sex friendly foods, heavier meals meant to help you stay energized and awake. You don’t have to worry about eating more, though~ He’ll help you burn it off.

If all else fails and you give up on trying to keep up with him, he’ll just cheekily tell you he doesn’t mind fucking you unconscious anyways. He thinks its cute to see you cum so hard you faint, or whimper and beg up at him ‘please no more’ and cry his name so sweetly just for him to keep fucking you until you cry~ Some could say he’s a little bit of a sadist in the bedroom.

His favorite way to have you is pinned down doggy style, watching your ass and thighs jiggle as he fucks you /hard/ Its rough, aggressive, angry as he fucks you like he’s making a claim. Hope you like turtle necks or year round scarves, because he b i t e s too. Imprints of his teeth scattered all across your neck and shoulders, even some down your back. (He bit your ass once but after you kicked him hard enough he was nursing a bruise for weeks he learned his lesson)  

He also likes you up against the wall, legs around him, clinging to him for complete support as he fucks up into you, a wide cocky grin on his face as you gasp and whimper right into his ear, crying out and whimpering for him as he fucks you.

That isn’t to say he can’t be...somewhat loving during sex. (if you manage to stay conscious long enough to see it that is) Once he finally starts to slow down, getting out of his system, you’ll see a different side to him. When he’s like this he likes you on your back looking up at him as he kisses you gently, rocking his hips up into you deep and slow as he kisses your chest, hands roaming down your sides. In those brief moments its almost loving as he shutters and moans your name soft and deep, watching you through half lidded eyes as he takes you.

[willwriteforhugs]

how stray kids asks you out <3

skz scenario - all members (individually) x reader

genre: fluff, dating au, angst if you close your left eye

word count: 1.6k (total)

warnings: some cursing, but nothing else :)

a/n: hello, lovelies!! this is my very first (posted) stray kids fic- i hope you all enjoy. it’s nothing major, but i really had fun writing it. if you’ve found me on the explore page, hello! i’m a hot mess. pls validate me by reading what i write.

just kidding.

maybe.

ANYWAYS- please keep in mind that this is written in a totally lighthearted way, and this is 100% fictitious. this is for entertainment purposes only. thank you for reading!

chan: 

he is actually so shy about it :’(

but he knows he’s gonna go through with it

cause that’s the kind of person he is

he just wants his emotions to be out in the open

whether the feeling is mutual or not

so he just improvises 

he approaches you with completely no context? like he just walks up and starts a convo but you can’t tell why

you think he’s just. being chan

but no

he’s pretty chill, actually

his face is so tho red but he doesn’t know that so don’t say anything

a few minutes in he kinda just snaps because he just couldn’t wait

“y/n-ah, do you wanna- i don’t know, get together sometime? are you free?”

this takes you off guard completely

he misunderstands your reaction *screams*

and he immediately regrets saying anything

but you scramble to reassure him 

when you say you’d like to get together, he loses all humility

becomes a total flirt

this flusters you but the two of you have such CHEMISTRY 

“so it’s a date?”

“it’s a date.”

minho:

is the type to completely deny his own feelings until the very last minute

plus, tbh

he probably thinks you hate him

so he has a hard time convincing himself to finally ask you out

but when he does...

he just bites the bullet (lmao pray for him)

walks RIGHT THE FUCK UP TO YOU

“y/n.”

when you respond he just kinda:

“will you go out with me?”

you also probably thinks he hates you too (go communication!!)

so you’re just like *surprised pikachu face*

but he just stands there and waits for your response

he’s sweating on the DL

but you kinda just go with it and say yes

he’s hella surprised but doesn’t wanna show his excitement

so he just smirks and is like

“okay. what would you like to do, and when?”

(just because he’s a cocky lil shit doesn’t mean he’s not a gentleman)

but he’s also secretly planning the whole first date in his head

will i hold y/n’s hand? what will they wanna do? should i-

- minho’s brain

(aw)

changbin:

is on the bolder side

(be careful with this one)

(he’s feisty)

he probably let his feelings fester for a long time

so this is overdue

but he spends the whole day shamelessly flirting with you

he finally just asks if you want to grab some food

you don’t even really realize it’s a date until he insists on paying for everything

this makes you all clumsy and embarrassed

but he thinks it’s the cutest shit ever

well now he’s clumsy and embarrassed (sobs)

TECHNICALLY he doesn’t officially ask you out until after this

he pretty much just straight up confesses

the audacity i can’t

“y/n-ah... i really like you- will you let me take you out? on a real date?”

* gesturing to the take out *

he isn’t embarrassed at all

you CANNOT stop looking at his eyes

they’re so genuine and loving that you almost forget to answer

once he gets confirmation he promises to both plan and pay for the whole thing, even as you protest

how are you already in love with this man 

hyunjin:

poor hyunjinnie probably spent the last four months trying to decide how to ask you out

he’s been head over heels for you for a while now

and he knows he needs to make his move

(cause, let’s be honest- you’re a catch, and he’s protective. could i make it any more obvious?)

he ends up thinking that just being straightforward is the way to do it

so he spends the whole day just trying to get you alone

this is harder than he anticipated

so finally he just grabs you while you’re in conversation

and goes

“y/n, i’m sorry-it’s important, can i just talk to you a sec?”

you go with him, if not out of pure curiosity 

literally the SECOND you’re alone he just swivels around says

“did you know that you are really hard to catch alone?”

and you’re kinda just like: 

huh

but he continues

“anyways, i just had a question for you?”

“oh, okay. what is it?”

this is when the nerves hit him 

“oh, uh- i guess i was just wondering- if you would go out with me sometime? nothing big, i just-”

you interrupt him without thinking

“yes.”

* cue one completely flustered and w h i p p e d hyunjin *

jisung:

is not shy at ALL

but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable

so he doesn’t make a big deal out of it

he spent a lot of time debating how to do it

but he decides to write a note (so cute)

he waits until you leave the room for a sec

he slips a note into your bag that just says

“date? -jisungie”

with a lil heart next to it

then he panics and just books it

when you find it a bit later you’re initially confused

but then it kinda hits you

you FREAK out and track him down-

only to realize you have no idea what you want to say to him

but he knows you too well

and he just laughs when he sees your face

this makes you laugh too, even though you’re nervous

when the two of you finally recover he’s just

“but really- please? let me take you out.”

you know your face is on fire

so you just nod

but that’s all the confirmation he needs

felix:

king of overthinking 

we all know felix has EVERYTHING planned in his head

like, to a T

he’s been very stressed about asking you out, but he also doesn’t want to miss his chance

so he just thinks and thinks and thinks

he just wants it to be perfect for you

he decides to just hang out in the comfort of your home to do it

the two of you are just chilling (y’know. FRIEND THINGS.)

but he is completely in his own head

and you can tell

you get to be a little worried for him, so you just ask:

“hey- are you alright? you seem a little off tonight.”

he turns super pink and tries to play it off

but since you’re a stubborn piece of work, you pry a lil

and he cracks under pressure (I FEEL BAD OMG)

he finally just looks up and snaps:

“y/n- i’m really sorry. i wanted to to this well, and make it cute and romantic and have you fall in love with me in an instant. but you- god, you’re so nerve-wracking!”

you just sit there

completely flabbergasted

he bursts into awkward laughter, and between coughs he’s just like

“y/n, i was gonna ask you out. i’ve loved you for a while now.”

he continues: “but i guess i fucked up, didn’t i...”

you jump and interrupt him

and insist that he was being crazy- what was he doing letting his mind run free with that?

finally, to shut him up, you just lean over and place your lips over his.

seungmin:

is surprisingly confident

but also low-key has no idea what he’s doing

he decides to send you a text

he asks if you want to grab coffee, which you absolutely do

he doesn’t realize until later...

that he didn’t actually specify it was supposed to be a date.

oops.

but he kinda just goes with it, and the two of you maintain good conversation

finally he interrupts you mid-sentence and is like

“y/n, will you answer a question for me?”

you nod, and he continues:

“what is- uh- this- exactly? to you?”

* nodding down at your long empty coffee cups *

you don’t really understand the question (valid)

he kinda just sighs and starts laughing

“well. it was supposed to be a date. i’m just really bad at this.”

you just. cannot believe your ears

he just laughs harder and says

“so. can we try again?”

you start laughing too

and you know that even if it wasn’t the best first date,

you’d felt right at home. 

jeongin:

poor baby is SO NERVOUS 

he’s spent like,,,,

the last 6 days trying to plan how to finally do this 

but he decides to approach you and let it try to come up naturally

you two carry a conversation for a few minutes and then he asks

“so...do you- you know- like anyone?”

your face turns bright red

you can’t stop thinking

does he know oh my god am i that obvious i-

but you end up just looking away and being like

“i mean- i guess?”

he can’t decide how to respond

because on one hand- that person could be him

but on the other hand, it’s more likely that it’s not, and then it would be awkward as hell for him to ask you out

he kinda panics

then against his own will he just goes for it

“y/n-ah. i don’t really know how to say this- but will you let me take you out? i really like you...”

his ears are RED OH BOY

his voice kinda just trails off and you can tell he feels insecure

but when you tell him yes...

he was literally born for this

he gets so excited and doesn’t hide it at all

thank you so much for reading!! p.s. my asks are now open, feel free to send in your requests !

[boom-bakugou]

‘Earn Your Title’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: i cannot help myself- i’m sorry lmao i hope you all enjoy

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, spanking, light bondage, cumplay, dirty talk, dom/sub tactics (kinda)

Summary: It’s difficult being the sidekick to the infamous pro hero Ground Zero, it’s even harder trying not to speak back to him.

Word Count: 2.7k

masterlist

“He could’ve gotten away idiot!” Bakugou snapped, veins pulsing from his neck as he slammed his fists on his desk making it wobble.

“It’s this stupid capture support item you made me get!” You retaliated, holding the long, ropey net-like substance up to shake it in his face as if he hadn’t seen it fail in over 5 missions now.

“Well then learn to fucking use it!” His words seethed with anger, the two of you only barely managed to catch the villain because of their own mistakes. When you finally got appointed to be a sidekick you were excited but after dealing with Ground Zero for the past month has been detrimental to your patience, it was like the man never calmed down.

“It’s completely incompatible with my quirk! It’s like if your gauntlets were actually water pistols!” You weren’t backing down this time, you knew you were right, you knew he just wanted to fight to blow off steam after the difficult heist.

“Then learn dipshit.” Bakugou’s volume lowered, but his tone seethed with pique. “Heroes have to make exceptions. You just don’t know how to use it. Earn your title of a hero by being better, now get out of my office.”

Your brows furrowed so far that you felt like you were going to tear your skin in half. Begrudgingly you picked up the support item and headed for the door but Bakugou’s voice stopped you as you tugged the door open in a huff.

“You’re staying late tonight. We’re training.” His voice left no thought for a disagreeing answer, so you didn’t answer at all. Merely slamming the door and heading over to your locker to change out of your hero suit which you were convinced was giving off steam just from how full of wrath you were.

Stupid boss. Stupid capture thingy-majig. Your brain screamed in your head, throwing your clothes haphazardly into the metal locker. Just because you were a sidekick didn’t mean he had to treat you like shit, though you had heard from other heroes that he was usually a short-tempered hot head all of the time. Why’d you have to get stuck with him?

Now clad in a tank top and some leggings to train in, you reluctantly pulled your tangle capture item out from your pile of clothes. You really could not be bothered with having to use this thing again. It was almost like it never listened to you.

You ran the fabric through your fingers, although it looked and felt like a bunch of fine hairs, it was actually a net that when thrown correctly could wrap around things easily to tie villains down. But with your quirk ‘wind flurry’ allowing you to direct wind currents with your eyes and fingers it was difficult to focus where you could direct gusts and where you threw the net. Practically impossible.

Sighing, you wrapped it around your knuckles and slamming your locker door shut with force you didn’t even realise you had been storing up. Walking nonchalantly to the training gym inside Ground Zero’s agency.

“You’re late.” You heard a grumble next to the door as you entered the room startling you a little. Bakugou leaned against the wall, a black tank clung to his chest leaving nothing to your imagination, but your thoughts about being pissed off at him quickly wavered that away.

“Actually, you didn’t set a time.” You composed yourself from the small startle, walking away from him whilst swinging the support item around in a circle. Just as you began to spin the net faster with your quirk, Bakugou’s hand abruptly stopped it moving.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone.” He groused, taking the item from you to inspect more closely. Within a split second he had whipped it along to hit the furthest back wall with a small explosion erupting from his palm to help it go further. It tied easily around some gym equipment before another explosion from rupturing down the fabric helped it untie and zip back into his hand.

“Your problem is multitasking, you’ve got to learn how to let it move with your quirk it was designed that way.” Bakugou mutters, thrusting the item back into your chest that you barely have a chance to catch as it’s tail end whips you in the side of your cheek.

“And how do I do that?” You scoff.

“You practise.” Bakugou once again leans against the wall, arms folded and watching you with a careful eye. “Show me how you use it.”

You roll your eyes when you turn away from him, taking the pose that he did before he immediately stopped you.

“That’s how I did it to work with my quirk, show me how you do it.” His voice was pressing, obviously tired of you trying to get this over and done with when it needs work.

Taking a deep breath, you make your usual stance and activate your quirk and whip the item… and the fine hairs of it flail around in the wind. You slump your body in defeat and turn around to Bakugou.

“See? I told you.”

Bakugou shakes his head and steps behind you, with his chest flush to your back you can feel his breath upon your skin and it almost gives you chills. His course fingers direct your arms in a way that you would usually use your quirk but never with the item.

“Now look-“ He places his head on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you can’t help a small gasp escape your lips as you watch him tentatively. “You have a clear view of where it’s going. Try and get it on that pole there.”

He moves his head away and you can’t help but miss the contact of his hair on your skin, but he doesn’t move from behind you. He uses his large palms to help your shoulders relax and they fall down your back as he helps you stand.

“Act like it’s an extension of your quirk, now try.”

You focus your eye on the pole and use the capture item, flowing freely with your quirk before latching onto the pole. It was less abrupt than how Bakugou used it, probably because his quirk was so much more abrupt from yours, but you hear an amused grunt from him before you flick it back and into your hand.

“Not bad, needs work but you’re getting there.” His voice was still it’s usually gruff self but at least he was smiling for once. You turn to face him and he glances down at you, a smirk clad on his face.

“Didn’t think you were the one for dishing out compliments Bakugou.” You mock, the fine hairs of the support item drifting through your fingers as you spun it around.

“And I thought I told you to watch your fucking mouth.” He barked. Bakugou lifted a finger to your chin, almost closing your mouth to stop a retort. Without even knowing it he’d already snagged the piece from your hands and lowered his arm so he could hold it at his hip.

“You know I don’t know how the hell you think you’re gonna be a hero if you can’t respect the actual ones.” His smirk was menacing, and you could only try to whimper out a response before you felt the crack of the net slap against your ass, eliciting a yelp from you.

“S’what I thought.” The way he shuffled closer to you, making you step back until your back hit against a cable cross, the cold contact of the metal a shock to your now hot skin.

“I told you baby- you’re gonna have to earn that title.” Bakugou’s lips curved into a sneer, terrifying you but you also couldn’t help but feel the warmth against your legs that you tightened your thighs to not think about.

“Bakugou-“ You begin to speak but his fingers slip between your lips, holding your mouth open as he smacks your rear again with the net.

“I think it’s Ground Zero to you, Y/N.” The way he said your name was like it was a slur, not worthy enough to be titled to your hero name.

Drawing his fingers out of your mouth he ensnared both of your wrists, allowing the support net to tie them together before letting it tangle around the upper bar of the cable cross. Your feet were barely touching the ground, Bakugou sauntered over to you like a predator watching his prey, you could tell that he was trying not to at least lick his lips.

Bakugou’s chuckles at your desperation which rumble throughout his chest. He strides closer to you, easily lifting your body to stop the strain on your arms as your legs wrap neatly around his waist. He leans in for a kiss which you gladly follow through with before he teasingly moves back, a smug grin dawning on his face before he dives in to kiss you.

His grip around you wasn’t forceful, or angry; it was filled with lust that translated from his lips to yours. Bakugou grazed his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for entrance and when you didn’t give way, he bucked his hips into your clothed core- drawing a sweet moan from you and a chance for him to allow his tongue to explore your mouth.

“Ba- Ground Zero please.” You stutter in between the hot kisses, your hands gripping desperately to your binds as you wished to tug his hair in fistfuls.

“What was that little girl? You’re gonna have to use your words if you want to become a hero.” Bakugou trailed his mouth down your neck as he spoke, his hot breath tugging your neck closer to his lips for any sort of touch.

“I need you- please touch me I need it so bad.” Your whines made his fingers grip the sides of your waist, knowing that he wanted you badly too.

“I’ve gone so fucking long watching you parade about in that so called skimpy hero suit.” Bakugou lifts your shirt off and tears it at the arm holes. Thank god it was provided by the company. “Hearing you dare to talk back to me. God- I wanted to punish you so fucking bad every time you opened that filthy mouth of yours.”

He follows suit and takes his own shirt off, his abs glistening with sweat pressing against your stomach so sweetly it gives you butterflies.

“I’m going to ruin you- make you sorry for any time you talked back to me, you got that?” His mouth was right next to your ear, making your jaw tremble at the sound of his gruff voice.

“Yes-“ You whimper out before hearing a small crackle and the loud smack as his hand makes contact with your ass.

“Yes what?” He presses, the warmth of his hand raring to smack you once again.

“Yes Ground Zero!” You screams out, the noise reverberating against each wall of the empty gym.

“Better.” He steps back only to pull your leggings and panties down to your ankles, allowing himself to slip between your legs so that you’re completely tied around him. Not that you’d change that as holding him close felt right and took the sweet pain away from your arms.

“So fuckin’ perfect, just like I knew it’d be.” He presses the pads of his fingers down your heat, he watched as your face merely contorted in pleasure at the feeling of him touching you there.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll beg for training after work every day.” Bakugou’s face was plastered with an illustrious smirk, watching as his two fingers dipped in and out of you completely glistening with your wetness.

“Ngh- I need you Ground Zero shit-.” You could barely make a cohesive sentence as his thick fingers slowly moved themselves against the spongey part of your cunt. It wasn’t enough, you were begging to feel full.

“Good girl.” Bakugou praised before lowering his sweats and boxers. His cock already leaking with precum just looking at the sight of you, all pretty and helpless for him to ravish. You’d give anything to just be able to touch him and lick all of it off of his cock.

Bakugou rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds, collecting your slick to ready himself. He began with small strokes inside of you before angling himself to fully bottom out. You couldn’t help the silent scream that erupted from your lips as he growled in pleasure at the indecorous noises.

His eyes leaped over your body, taking in every inch of you whining and begging for more and more, his lips jumped to your chest, sucking and biting all of your supple flesh to leave deep purple marks of his desires. You bit your lip but couldn’t stop the moans at the stimulation all over your body. Your arms feel limp as the sensations rang all over the rest of your body.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking beautiful looking so ruined baby.” Bakugou’s hands attempted to ball into fists while still fixated on your hips. You wince in pain but it’s numbed by the vast amount of delectation you were feeling in your stomach.

“I’m-“ You barely begin but he already knows, he can feel it, he can feel every millimetre of you and it’s driving him crazy.

“I know baby- come on my cock like the good girl you are huh?” His cocky tone sent shivers down your spine to the tips of your toes as your climax hit. Your body quaking in his arms. You could feel Bakugou getting closer too, him riding out your euphoria as he reached to gain his. His hips spluttering and the rhythmic beats he once had were long gone as he spurts hot cum inside of you.

It takes a moment before you’re both back to your senses, Bakugou (though out of breath) fixes his sweatpants and stands back between your legs. A chuckle escaping his lips as his fingers push his cum back inside your pussy.

“Suck.” He demands as he raises what was left to your mouth and you happily oblige, your tongue dancing around his digits.

Bakugou then fixes your leggings and lets you down from the support item into his arms, letting you use his tank top as he had ripped yours.

“I still expect you to come into work tomorrow.” Bakugou huffs out what seems to be an almost laugh but you can’t quite tell from your tone, your body too weak to even give a sarcastic, witty retort.

“If training is anything like that then I’ll keep practising.” You whisper, your throat dry as anything after screaming in pleasure for so long.

If that’s how you were going to earn your full hero title, then you weren’t going to give that up.

[cake-writes]

making the beast beautiful (one)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (cheating); Steve x Reader (married)

Story Warnings: Mental Illness, Borderline Personality Disorder, Splitting, Clinical Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Low Self-Esteem, Cheating, Angst, Drug Addiction / Abuse (Cigarettes, later Alcohol & Pills), Recovery, idk it’s gonna get depressing but we’ll have a happy ending!!!, Eventual Smut, 18+

Summary: Bucky knows the struggle, the pain, the emptiness. He understands. He can relate, because he knows. And some days, he still struggles – even told you once how low he’s been. But Steve? Your sweet, loving husband of a year and a half? No, Steve doesn’t understand. He can’t, no matter how hard he tries. So one day, you finally give up and give in to your most self-destructive temptation of all: your preoccupation with his best friend.

A/N: i know this is another wip SORRY but it’s literal word vomit because ya girl just really needed to yeet these sad bitch feels into outer space lmao 🤷 

Your addiction to him starts slow, like the creep of nicotine through your veins from the cigarettes that he offers you on the rooftop.

Not often enough to do any damage, you try to tell yourself about your smoking habit – or maybe what you actually mean is the amount of time you spend with him. Bucky Barnes. Your husband’s best friend. Your former teammate. Not that it matters, because from one night to the next it’s all you can do to cling to the one good thing you have left, the one ray of light– or maybe he’s the one last shred of hope you’re willing to bind yourself to like a lifeline.

And if it snaps, you’ll fall. 

Too bad the threads are already starting to fray.

And lucky, lucky you that you fall even sooner, because your reality has shifted to one shade off from normal, and you can hardly tell what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. You want to prioritize yourself because you know you should – maybe be a little selfish for once, to combat the awful feelings of self-hate that plague your mind, but you don’t know if that particular affirmation is driven by self-esteem or self-destruction.

You can’t tell anymore. You don’t know who you are.

You’re a mystery, a chameleon, borderline, and the only thing you do know is that Bucky makes you feel again – too much. He makes you feel things you shouldn’t, makes you obsess and overthink and daydream and wonder about what life could be like with him instead of Steve.

Because that’s what you do when you fall in love. You turn into that. A monster. A beast. A siren hell-bent on the destruction of yourself.

So, you fall. You fall deep. You fall hard. You fall fast, but it’s the savouring of the moment that always brings out the worst in you. It brings back the worst part of you that you’ve buried under layers and layers of trauma and depression – the clinginess and neediness and desperation at the center of it all, and every layer covering up the euphoria makes you cry because you have to hide it for fear of losing yourself all over again. Losing that feeling. Losing what makes you you.

You’re happy, now. Right? So why do things you shouldn’t do?

But you just can’t help yourself.

You shouldn’t have accepted that first cigarette.

You shouldn’t have texted him asking for another.

You shouldn’t have talked to him about personal things meant for your husband.

You shouldn’t have talked to him about the most personal of things: your husband. Your relationship. Your insecurities because of your illness.

You shouldn’t have – because Bucky knows. He understands. He’s been there.

He knows the struggle, the pain, the emptiness. He understands. He can relate, because he knows. He’s been there. He’s done that. And some days, he still struggles – even told you, once, how low he’s been. 

He might have a different slew of acronyms to define his own mental state, but they all spell out the same thing: FUBAR. And so do yours.

But Steve? Your sweet, loving husband of a year and a half? The man of your dreams, the one you’d married in the gown of your dreams, in the venue of your dreams? He’s resilient. And let’s not forget your wedding, with Bucky standing right there as his best man – the same Bucky who accidentally caught the bouquet you threw in his direction, because your aim was purposefully off to make him feel like he belonged for once.

Even before you got to know him, you always had a soft spot for him. 

And now? You’re fucked. Completely and utterly smitten.

No, Steve doesn’t understand. He absolutely, fundamentally cannot, through and through. Not for a lack of trying, though, or that’s what you keep trying to convince yourself. He supports you physically: makes dinner when you’re ‘tired’, runs errands when you’re ‘busy’, gives you love and affection just like he always has. You’re his wife; it’s his obligation. He has to.

That’s how you feel, anyway.

He treats you that way out of duty, not love, because Steve always has to put the greater good before himself. He puts your happiness before his own, you think. And he tries so hard – he does. And whenever he tells you he’s happy, you just can’t believe him because you think so poorly of yourself.

Why would anyone willingly want to be around you?

And emotionally? He tries so hard with that, too, but he just doesn’t know. He doesn’t get it. He never says the right things, only well-meaning insensitive ones because he hasn’t been there, he hasn’t done that, and he thinks it’s all in your head – that you’re just not trying hard enough, that you just don’t want to get better badly enough, because if you did then you’d be up and at ‘em already. Then you’d be healed. Then you’d be out of this funk and back in the field with him.

You’re not.

You won’t be for a long time.

You’re not the same girl he fell in love with. Not that he’s ever said that directly to you, but sometimes you think it’s how he feels. He signed up for a wife, not a child. He signed up for the you from a few years ago, now, not the shell of a person you’ve become because of your illness.

Ironic, considering what he was like as a kid, Bucky likes to remind you when you start to hate on yourself because of how you’ve changed – because you’re not normal anymore. He used to be so sick all the time. Then the serum made him right as rain. Don’t take it to heart.

Steve got better because of a miracle. Hard work and determination can only get a person so far, but it was pure luck that got him to the serum. You know that. Bucky knows that. Steve probably knows that deep down, too, but he doesn’t see it that way. All he sees is his hard work.

He lies to himself. He always has.

He probably lies to himself about his love for you, too.

So it’s hard to believe he’s happy. How can he be? You don’t bring anything to your relationship but self-pity and unhappiness. And how can you not take it to heart that Steve doesn’t understand? Your husband, the one who should be supporting you and validating you and making you feel like you’re seen, thinks you’re always throwing a pity party for yourself, thinks you’re just too lazy to get up and actually do the things you want to do, thinks you’re just not trying hard enough.

Come on, doll, he says. Let’s go for a walk.

To you it just sounds like, Walk it off.

Because he’s said that before, too. A hundred times. In the field, and out.

You’re not an agent anymore. You can’t handle it anymore. You can’t handle anything anymore.

Deep down, you’re convinced that Steve thinks because it’s not physical – that because there are no scrapes or bruises or broken bones to prove that you’re in pain – that your depression isn’t real. Not really. It’s an illness, same as any other, and he just doesn’t understand it because he can’t see any physical evidence of it.

Never mind the weight you’ve lost.

Never mind the bags under your eyes.

Never mind the crying spells, the dissociation – but then, you hide those from him the best you can these days. You don’t want him to see how bad you are anymore, because he just doesn’t get it. Because it hurts so much every time for him to look at you with those soft, confused baby blues and act like it’s not a big deal, like a little bit of sunshine’s a cure-all for your woes.

Ironic is right. The boy’s been to war and he hasn’t even processed his own trauma. Hasn’t even been to a shrink despite having two best friends poking and prodding for him to go. He’s in denial.

He refuses to believe that you just couldn’t get to the laundry today because you’re too exhausted from lying in bed all day. He refuses to believe that you couldn’t eat a bite because you didn’t even think to, too busy caught up in your own pain to remember, let alone care. He refuses to believe that you don’t even feel like you deserve to do anything good for yourself, so why even get up? Why bother? Why try to do anything anymore?

Just let the darkness take you away. Bit by bit. Piece by piece. And then, maybe one day you won’t have to feel anything anymore. Maybe you’ll just disappear.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

He refuses to get it, and some part of you feels like it’s because he doesn’t want to. Because he’s afraid to acknowledge that it’s true. That if he starts therapy like you did, then this could just as easily happen to him, too.

But hey, that’s his problem, not yours. You’re still learning to prioritize yourself – to break away from co-dependency and focus on your own needs for once. You’re barely keeping your head above water; why should you have to work on him, too, when he doesn’t offer you the same consideration? You’ve done what you can, and he just turns a blind eye because he doesn’t want to understand your issues. Or his.

So, you’ve given up.

You plaster on a happy face when he’s home – a painful, never-ending reminder that you’re not okay, and you keep your troubles to yourself. You’ve stopped sharing your struggles with the man you married because he doesn’t understand, and it hurts. You try so hard to act like nothing’s wrong that sometimes you dissociate, and you don’t come back to yourself until you have a cigarette hanging between your lips, lit by a Zippo engraved with a clever, If you want to make love, smile when you hand this lighter back.

Seeing the joke on Bucky’s lighter always brings you back, because it’s ridiculous. It’s a throwback to his army days; Steve found it awhile back with Bucky’s old personal effects. Makes you wonder what he must have been like back then.

Cigarette smoke and leather and sandalwood in the dead of night – and you always make a point to smile when you hand it back to him.

Temptation incarnate, now. What a dream he would have been back then.

Sometimes you text him when you and Steve have had another fight.

Sometimes he texts you when he needs you to ground him.

Sometimes the two of you just text each other for the hell of it. It’s usually related to someone’s mental health, usually yours, but occasionally not; after all, over the last few months he’s become your partner in misery and crime. The two of you have shared things to each other that you’ve never told another person, not even Steve; and in some ways, you feel like you’ve bared your soul to him.

It’s intimate.

In other ways, you’ve kept your guard up because you know you’re playing with fire.

It’s wrong.

You know you should really tell Steve about your midnight conversations – that you probably know his best friend almost as well as he does, now, but Bucky’s become a guilty sort of pleasure that you keep near and dear to your heart. He makes you feel things that you haven’t felt in a long time, but you’re not ready to acknowledge what that means. Not yet.

And neither is Bucky, evidently, because Steve’s still none the wiser.

Eight months of this and you still want more.

Your husband trusts you. He never asks who you’re texting or what you’re up to. You’ve given him no reason to believe otherwise. He feels safe and secure in your relationship, but maybe he’s turning a blind eye to that, too.

He shouldn’t. 

You wish he didn’t.

Some small part of you wants him to catch you, and that’s what you resent the most. You’re self-destructive – ready to destroy the one good, stable thing in your life in favour of an impossibility, but you can’t deny that Bucky gives your brain the dopamine it needs, it craves, it lacks.

He’s been gone on a mission the last week and a half, but you saw the Quinjet fly in the hangar earlier in the evening, around six, and you’ve been keen to text him since. You’ve held back for a little while, not wanting to appear to eager to message him – so you’re certainly not too proud of how quickly your resolve cracks.

You, 10:33pm Please don’t tell me you came home with Lucky Strikes again.

Bucky, 10:41pm Sorry, princess. Didn’t realize I was seeing royalty tonight.

And then he sends through a photo of a slightly crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes in his hand – an invitation to come to the rooftop. Judging by the setting, he’s already there.

Despite his choice in a particularly harsh smoke, you’re more focused on the pet name that has your face burning hot. It’s something he’s started to tack on recently – ‘princess’ being most common, particularly when he’s teasing you about being spoiled in some way, but when he slips it in during a real conversation is what really makes your heart pound.

You know you should tell him to stop. You know you should, but, you don’t.

You like how it feels to feel for once.

You’re married. It’s wrong. You need to stop, but you just can’t help yourself. You’re lonely.

Steve’s still away on a mission, which doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it used to – you hope he returns safely, of course you do, but you don’t really miss him. Not like you should. That’s happened more often than not as of late, and you can feel your attention shifting the longer you keep up this dangerous game with his best friend.

If it even is a game, that is. It’s probably not. How could he possibly be attracted to you? You’re depressed. You’re boring. And, to top it all off, you’re his best friend’s wife.

Of course you’re the only participant. Bucky’s just humouring you. That’s all.

And now, as you swipe on some deodorant and attempt to make something out of the rat’s nest that is your hair, you feel a particularly awful level of disdain for yourself. The self-loathing pairs nicely with your poor appearance; you haven’t slept well in days, and you’ve barely eaten in just as long.

It’s only when Steve is here keeping you on a regular schedule that you do. Otherwise it’s a free for all anymore.

Bucky never seems to mind – just encourages you to go do what needs to be done when the conversation’s over. And somehow, you listen. 

Sometimes he texts to ask if you’re doing okay while he’s away on a mission, too – and you always lie, because he can’t prove otherwise. He sends you a couple reminders anyway, because he just knows. He understands that you’d rather not burden him with the truth.

And then, when he comes back, he calls you out on your lie. He calls you out and reminds you how valuable you are – to Steve, mostly, and to the team. You’re irreplaceable. You’re needed.

He never says how important you are to him, but you always wish he would.

It’s stupid. It’s wrong.

You’re married.

Tonight will be no different. Despite your negative beliefs about yourself, he’ll tell you otherwise, but you won’t believe him. You never do, even though you desperately want to.

You’re a mess, so a beanie it is. You pull it over your tangled hair and somehow get your bangs looking presentable, at least; then you give your clothes the sniff test, spritz a little body spray just in case, and head out the door. You had a shower yesterday because even you couldn’t stand it anymore. 

That’ll do.

Fingers tap anxiously at your feed in the quiet elevator. There’s some mild jazz playing, just like usual, but your heart pounds inside your chest – only brings more attention to your nerves.

Bucky hasn’t been gone long, but you’ve missed him.

It’s stupid. It’s wrong.

You’re married.

After exiting the elevator, a short flight of stairs takes you to the roof. Once you start to push, the fire exit door blows open of its own accord; it’s windy up here due to the change of seasons, not that you’ve even noticed it considering you haven’t been outside in over a week. The fresh air shoots straight through your hoodie and sweatpants, and you briskly rub your arms to warm up, immediately wishing you’d checked the temperature before you came outside, maybe grabbed a jacket. You hadn’t even thought of it. Your mind’s a mess.

Hadn’t thought of dinner, either. Or lunch.

That’s when a heavy leather jacket is deposited ungracefully on your shoulders, and you glance up behind you to find Bucky standing there, giving you the look. It’s the one that pre-empts the lecture. “That help?”

You nod, basking in the smell of him – sandalwood and spice. Ah. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He knows.

He can tell with just one look that you’ve been lying to him – that you haven’t been taking care of yourself like you said you were. But he doesn’t reprimand you this time, or offer you platitudes; the disapproving look is enough.

Slippers on your feet, you pad over to the two lawn chairs he set up awhile back near the edge of the eastern wing; it’s got a nice view of the landing pad, but beyond that is the lake, and the two of you have come up here long enough to catch the sunrise once or twice. It’s nice.

“Good mission?” you ask, shoving your hands into your pockets as you collapse into your chair. It’s made of a terrible green fabric, seated low enough to the ground to let you curl your knees to your chest and cry when you want to. And you do. A lot.

This time, however, you’ve got your legs extended far ahead of you. You don’t want to talk about yourself tonight. You want to focus on him.

A distraction. That’s all. That’s what you try to tell yourself.

The other chair, woven blue and white, is where Bucky comes to rest just like always. You suspect that it was the cheapest one in the store, because it creaks and groans and you always think it’s going to break when he sits in it, but it never does. It’s also taller than yours, so you call him old man every now and then for it because that’s just hilarious.

It’s not flirting. It’s not.

Not even when you’ve nearly fallen into his lap on more than one occasion thanks to drinking beforehand.

“Well,” he starts hesitantly, pausing to consider his answer, “I made it back.”

His tone is soft – distant. Not a good mission, then.

“I’m glad you made it back,” you offer, giving him what you hope is a hopeful smile. It feels fake, but the intention behind it is real.

He studies your face for a moment or two, before he averts his eyes. “You’re probably the only one. I had to do some things on the mission that I—” He cuts himself off, then, and pulls the pack of Lucky Strikes out of his pocket to fiddle with. A crutch. “I don’t like to use my strength when I don’t have to. Makes people nervous.”

He’s told you about it before. By ‘people’ he means ‘agents’. Other agents. The ones he was working with, no doubt. As if his arm isn’t reminder enough, sometimes if he doesn’t hold back – well, they start to treat him a little differently after that. It’s a reminder that he’s not fully human.

You can empathize. “It’s a little shocking at first,” you remind him gently, “but you do get used to it. I did. It just takes some time.”

Of course, you also married a super soldier, so there’s that. You can’t really gauge what’s ‘normal’ anymore.

That’s when he cracks open the pack  of cigarettes – half full, which means he must have been smoking on the mission, too, something he doesn’t usually do – and when he meets your eyes, the dark, anxious look there turns your stomach to knots.

“Are you?” he asks, voice low and laced with an emotion you just can’t place – or maybe you’re too afraid to acknowledge that you can, and very easily feel the same way. “I could break you in thirty ways before you could even tell me to stop.”

Your brain halts like a record scratch when the clear implication of his words sends a jolt straight to your core. Not just because it’s true, the threat, but because of the dangerous way he’s staring at you, coupled with the casual authority in his voice.

He could hurt you so easily, but you know he wouldn’t. Not you.

He could do other things, too – something a lot less violent and a lot more pleasurable – but you don’t let yourself consider that. You can’t. Even if it’s what he’s implying.

Is it what he’s implying?

You’re married. He knows that.

There’s a long pause while you try to gather your thoughts, until you finally manage as evenly as you can, “Are you trying to scare me?”

Your voice is still a little hoarse despite how much you willed it not to be. He did scare you a little – not that you’d ever admit it, because he excited you a hell of a lot more, and you hate that, too. But you love it even more.

Your question makes his shoulders slump, just slightly, just enough to let you know that that’s exactly what it was – that Bucky was lashing out, in his own way. That he’s the one who’s scared. That he’s trying to push you away.

Why?

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you reassure him, because you aren’t. You could never be. Not like that. What you’re afraid of is so much worse than that – because it involves him and you, and you can’t make yourself stop wanting more of this. More of him. More of what he threatened to do to you – the underlying meaning you hope to god you’re not imagining, but you should never, ever want.

It’s wrong.

“You should be,” he responds, quiet, rolling the cigarette he’s half pulled out of the pack in between his fingers like he’s debating whether to light it, but he’s trying his hardest not to this time. “You shouldn’t be up here with me.”

The ball drops.

The truth that the two of you have been dancing around for months finally comes out, and you laugh – you laugh, because otherwise you’ll cry. “What are you talking about?”

“Darlin’, you’re—” he starts, and then lets out a frustrated sigh and shoves the cigarette right back in, shoves the pack shut too for good measure. Blue eyes burn into yours. “You know why.”

“We’re friends, Bucky,” you emphasize, lightly, but deep within your chest you can feel the anger, the anxiety start to burn and meld together into something entirely unrecognizable. It’s the tiniest ember now, but it won’t be if this keeps up. You know you’re married. You know that. You don’t need the reminder. “We’re just talking. What’s the problem?”

“Come on, sweetheart.” He’s calm, too calm, and it bothers you. “Don’t play dumb. You’re too smart for that.”

It’s just pretend. It’s not real. You’re happily married with Steve. You’re happy.

Right?

“That’s all it is,” you argue. “I’m married. You said so yourself. Steve and I are happily married.”

Saying it out loud is just another cold, brutal reminder that you aren’t. Just like the façade you’re forced to wear. 

“Yeah? You’re happy?” Bucky asks, pulling himself to his feet – and you suddenly realize how tall he is when he’s towering over you like this. You’re not scared, no, you love it. And that makes it worse, the way he makes your heart race like this. “Then there’s gotta be a reason why you haven’t told him about our little talks.”

Because they’re more than that. That’s the reason.

“Well, why haven’t you?” you shoot back, finally getting to your feet, too, feeling your face flush with anger. “You haven’t told him either. Why’s that, huh?”

Tense silence falls over the two of you as you glare at each other, the only light illuminating your features coming from the full moon. It’s a beautiful night, clear and chilly and bright, and you originally had hopes of maybe stargazing with him like you’ve done so many times before.

Not tonight.

He’s pushing you away. He wants to push you away. You know he is, it’s obvious – he tried one approach, and when that didn’t work, he went for the thing he knew would invoke a reaction. The thing that would hurt the most.

Steve. Your marriage. Your happiness, or lack thereof.

No matter how many times you try to tell that to the rational side of your brain, you just can’t handle it. It’s another rejection from someone you cared about – someone you felt yourself growing a potentially unhealthy attachment to – and he just had to hurt you like all the rest. He wanted to hurt you. He wanted to see you suffer.

You can’t stand him.

So you shrug off his jacket and shove it at him. “Take your fucking jacket,” you bite out. “You want me gone? Well, I’m going. Hope you’re happy.”

The way he takes it from you catches you off guard, blue eyes wide with hurt and surprise – but you don’t give him another second of your time. Instead you spin around on your heel and stomp your way back to the access door.

You’re not well enough for this. You’re depressed. You’re broken. You’re lonely.

And now, the only person who understands has thrown you away – discarded you like you’re nothing. Maybe because you are. You’re worthless.

Your fingertips just brush against the handle when you’re tugged back by the wrist, and then his arms are around you, his chest pressing into your back.

He’s warm.

It’s wrong.

But it feels right, and you hate how easily you melt into his touch, into the feeling of his lips at your ear.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispers, and you’re done for.

The heat from your anger warps into something else – something that burns you up in a different way, and you swallow thickly at the feeling of his arms so snug around your waist. “What do you want, then?”

It’s barely audible, your question -- but he hears it just fine. Soft lips drag from your ear to your pulse, and you shiver, lulling your head back onto his shoulder.

“You tell me,” Bucky breathes against your skin. “I need to know what you want.”

The two of you are playing a dangerous game, and the stakes are only getting higher. You both have a lot to lose, but you’re the one taking the higher risk. Not him.

“I want—” His teeth gently nip at your neck and you can’t help yourself. “I want you—”

And then your back is pressed into the closed door, cold metal biting through your sweats but you don’t even notice, too focused on the feeling of his lips on yours. They’re soft and ever-so-slightly chapped, and his stubble scratches just a little, pleasantly, just enough to hurt in the best way.

It’s hot, too hot, god, you can’t handle the heat of his body against yours—

“Bucky,” you gasp against his lips, sliding your arms around his neck, fingers carding through his hair to pull him closer. You can taste with the barest bite of mint from his gum, along with the slightest hint of cigarette smoke, and you realize—

He must have been up here for awhile.

Overthinking. Wondering what to do. Lost in thoughts of you, perhaps.

The idea of it sends a rush of delirium through you, and you open your mouth just enough to let his tongue explore – or dominate, which you soon find you like very much when Bucky does it to you. His flesh hand cups the side of your face as he kisses the breath out of you, and his vibranium one snugly presses into your lower back – purposely, you soon find, because suddenly your knees go weak and your arms tighten around his neck to catch yourself from falling.

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Oh, wow. That’s never happened before.”

“First time for everything,” he teases, kissing your forehead as he steadies you back on both feet – and it’s then that the realness of the situation seems to sink in.

You’ve just cheated on your husband.

He’s just kissed his best friend’s wife.

There’s a prolonged silence as the two of you look at each other, watching, wondering, waiting, and then—

“We have to tell him,” you say, a little uneasily. “Just… not yet. Figure this out first.”

You can feel the desperation to see where this leads, no matter what a bad idea it is.

Bucky swallows. It’s clear that the prospect of lying to Steve bothers Bucky just as much as it bothers you, but you know he feels that same desperation when he suggests, “And if it turns out to be nothing, then…”

“Yeah. No harm, no foul.”

You won’t tell him. Because if it’s nothing, then it’s not worth worrying about. 

Even if it’s wrong.

Right?

two

and a moodboard I made because why not

[scarlet-bernard]

Can I request Alastor x reader hc or a fic about his love being redeemed but then after a while they get thrown back in hell for a really stupid reason?

Lmao honestly I was like ‘Oh ho this is gonna be sad’ then the last part had me rolling. Ima go for a fic though. I hope you like it hun! :)

(P.S I made it a really really stupid reason-sorry).

(P.P.S  (d/h/c): Demon hair color

(d/s/c): Demon skin color

(h/c): Hair color

(s/c): Skin color

Alastor X Reader-Redemption and Back

You had finally done it. You had made it! You were going to be taken to Heaven and given your wings! Finally! This IS what you wanted, right? You sigh as you snuggle in to your boyfriends chest, thinking things over.

He was humming softly as he ran his claws through your hair gently. He didn’t want to lose you, oh no, you were his darling demon gal! But, you had wanted to be an angel. He couldn’t tell you no to that, and besides, this gave him cause to follow you to Heaven. If he could manage, that is...

You looked at the time. Only an hour left. An hour to get your things to the roof. An hour to cuddle with Alastor. One last time... Until he came to meet you in Heaven, of course! An hour to say your goodbyes to your friends. No, your family. All of your goodbyes... Even to the sweetheart herself, the princess of Hell...

“Al, I can’t do this. I can’t just leave-” you felt the hot tears start, you couldn’t hold them back. You didn’t want to say goodbye to everyone.

Alastor simply shakes his head. “Darling, you must! I cannot let you stay here when this has been such a big deal for you!” His everlasting grin almost dropping. He didn’t want you to leave either. But he was going to be strong enough, for the both of you if he had to be. “Dear, please don’t back out now, I would be sad to see you give up so easily.”

You sigh as he gently wipes the tears away. You knew he wouldn’t be there for a long time, if ever, which felt like someone was ripping your heart out. “But I don’t want to leave everyone...” You say quietly, frowning.

“Smile my dear! You’re not fully dressed without one! And everyone will follow you up! I can’t see why they wouldn’t! I certainly will follow a pretty little doll, such as yourself, to the gates of Heaven!”

You let out a soft giggle and nod. “Okay... I’ll... Give it a test run.” A small dorky smile made its way to your face?

Alastor tilts his head in confusion. “A test run, my dear? “But there have been demons sent to Heaven before! This is no longer a test-”

You giggle and shake your head. “No, what I mean is, if I get too sad or too lonely, I’ll do something stupid and come back!” you joke lightly.

“Ahohohohohoh, my dear, don’t do that! It might take us a while, but we will all eventually be right there beside you!” His grin widens slightly at your cheered up state. Why was he convincing you to go? He didn’t want you to. He sighs and sits up. “Well dear, let us go say your final goodbyes, shall we not? Everyone will be waiting for you!”

You look up at him. He was right! Only half an hour left. You sigh and link arms with him, going to the roof. You smile as you see everyone. You waved shyly. Time to say goodbye! You went through them all, Husk, Baxter, Niffty, Charlie, and Vaggie.

After what felt like only a few minutes, you saw the angels. You turn to Alastor one last time. “You promise me I’ll see you again?”

The tall Radio Demon took and then kissed the top of your hand, smiling at you. “I won’t stop trying until I succeed, my love.” He said softly, only for you to hear.

You smile and squeeze his hand, realizing you may never see him again. Your heart begged you to stay, but he gently handed your hand off to an angels, and with that, you were gone.

Charlie tried to comfort Alastor, but he simply dismissed her, and went to be alone to think about you.

He didn’t cry, no, that would make him look weak, but he couldn’t stop his grin from falling as his brain screamed at him to get you back and his heart thumped dully in pain. He’d never see her again. He was too bad to go to Heaven, but at least you were happy.

You open your eyes and looked around. Your demon form was replaced with your human one. Instead of (d/h/c) or (d/s/c) you had (h/c) and (s/c). You stood there shocked for a moment.

“You may go in at any time.” The angel who escorted you up said, slightly annoyed. Guess attitude didn’t dull when you went to Heaven.

You sigh and walk through the gates, only to be tackled? You let out a shrike. “Who are you?!!” You glare at the angel above you-wait.

“Hiya toots. Miss me?”

“Angel Dust?!”

“Shhh shh, up here I’m Anthony.” He says chuckling.

“You EGGED someones house and got sent back to HELL? After one WEEK?” Vaggie yelled at you and Angel Dust, in a private room. So far only her and Charlie had seen you too.

“Come on sweets,” Angel began, earning a glare from Vaggie. “The guy was a douche. He shoulda come down ‘ere with us, ‘e was just to holy.” Angel said in your guys’ defense. “ ‘Sides Vaggs, I didn’t wanna be up there anyways-” he began.

“Because you missed the drugs, turf wars, and sex?” she asked, snapping at him.

Charlie set a hand on her shoulder and looked between the two of you for answers.

“Well, yes, but I also missed you fuckers, alright?” he shoots his own glare at Vaggie. “Heaven is no fun, especially when everyone is tryin’ to get ya sent back ta Hell anyways.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah. I’m uh, I’m with Angie on this.” You look down at your hands. “Besides, there are other demons up there proving that Hell DOES have people who can change... We didn’t even think we’d get in that much trouble.”

Vaggie seemed to have softened up to the both of you. But, she was still going to be strict. “Whatever. But if you two plan on staying here for free still, you’re gonna need to earn your keep.”

At the visible confusion you and Angel Dust show, Charlie perks up. “What she means is that you two will need to work here! Keep a decent reputation so the hotel doesn’t fail, but do smaller things to stay here and help!” she grins.

Of course you and Angel agree happily! This hotel was pretty much your home, and so were the people! You both go your separate ways, you to find Al, and Angel to find Husk. Or drugs.

You smile as you see him, deciding sneaking up on him would be the worst best course of action. You wrap your arms around the deer boi and he goes rigid.

He won’t kill anyone he won’t kill anyone he won’t dO IT-

“Alllll, guess what?” you sing song.

His jaw drops, was that really you? “(Y/n)?” he turns around and wraps his arms around you when he sees you, afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You grin. “Yep!”

“But how did-why are-” he, for once in his life, seems to be speechless. He looks at you confused.

“Angie and I egged a guys house since he was being a dick... And well... We were condemned. Yay?” You weren’t really sure how he was going to react, if you’re being honest.  

His grin only seemed to widen though. You had really come back! He picks you up and spins you around. “Well darling, it seems to me that you mean you’ll be in Hell for quite some time then! Lets go take a stroll through Hell and maybe get a bite to eat! Omelets, perhaps? It is breakfast!” He gives you a cheeky grin.

You can’t help but giggle and shake your head. “Of course. Omelets sound great, Al.”

And with that, you were off!

[ayyyez]

Hi! I'm so into FiOE, I love it so much! I was wondering if maybe you couls write about Asana being confronted by both Madara and Tobirama, to chose. I know it seems to illogical for both characters but hey they're so in love with her their lost their brains haha. Love can do that to a person. Thank you so much for open request again!

a/n: bless you for sending me a request with Asana ahhhh I love her so much and I’m glad other people seem to as well! Also loved doing this request! So thank you <3  warnings: none!  Links: Fire in Our Eyes (Tobirama/Asana[OC] fic)  + The Fire Within (Madara/Asana[OC] Oneshot)

Real talk, if these two came to her, at their wits end and told her to choose (in the early days of courtship) she would laugh. And then she would recollect herself and say ‘Alright I can see the two of you are very serious about this.’ She pauses and it tortures them. ‘I choose neither.’ Then she would go back to whatever it was she was doing.

That’s only if like she isn’t invested enough with them though. Like they haven’t kissed, fked, had some deep deep conversations, missing that and she is just like ‘You know what I don’t have time for this.’ lmao.

But let’s say she is invested. Not just invested but there’s such deep emotional and physical connection between her and both of them she is in a position where she has to pick. 

She will avoid them overtime. Hopes the situation sorts itself out. She is way too busy running a hospital she can’t deal with her personal life. They enjoy arguing maybe they can work it out. 

But an overnighter working and lack of sleep later she realises she cares about both of them and that is not fair. Fck. Now she has to make the decision. She always has to make the decision. Can life give her break for five minutes please? 

Asana tries to think about it logically. She will pick apart each scenario without mercy. She even tries to think how the village would benefit and who is most suited to be her partner and make the village better.

Its a fools errand though. She knows she can’t be logical. (Would honestly choose both if she could but she knows they would never accept that. So she makes her choice. 

FIOE Universe and she chooses Tobirama

Asana is most stubborn in this scenario. There is something about bowing to Tobirama’s wishes when, instead of telling her how he feels, he tells her to choose. What kind of confession is that? He got off the hook too easily. 

She trusts Tobirama with a lot of things but she cannot trust him with her heart until he proves worthy. Deep down she knows how he feels but she needs him to say. For once in his life he needs to do things not his way.

So being Asana, she goes and confronts him at his home. He has a feeling he knows why she is there but doesn’t know her decision. So, he lets her in and waits for her to talk.

She stares at him in silence for a while - for good measure. Then she gets straight to the point. ‘You want me to choose—to choose you. Why?’ This throws him through a loop.

Tobirama is a little on edge but the only thing he reveals is a little bit of shock. She was always so blunt. Refreshing but taxing on his heart. 

‘I would have thought that obvious.’ That’s his answer and he hopes it’s good enough. He isn’t going to get down on his knees and recite poetry. He isn’t going to list the ways he loves her. He has feelings for her and it is as simple and obvious as that.

But Asana doesn’t take that. She can’t. How can he expect her too when all he as given her is circumstance and vague inclinations. For all she knew he could just be doing this so Madara didn’t get her. She knew that wasn’t the case but his words have yet to clear that theory.

‘Pretend I’m simple minded then.’ Asana took a step toward him. ‘Pretend like I can’t read you.’ She took another step. ‘Pretend that you actually want to fight for me.’ She is in front of him, looking at him with such dare and intensity he almost falls forward. 

‘And what exactly would that accomplish?’ He asked. He met her stare head on but he knew his eyes revealed everything. He knew it couldn’t hide from her but he chose to try anyway. 

‘Everything you have ever wanted.’ Asana replied, softly. ‘That’s what you’ll accomplish—that’s what you’ll gain.’ 

‘You claim to know what I want?’ His resolve was breaking.

‘No, you did.’ Asana smiled. ‘”I would have thought that obvious.”’

His gaze snapped away. ‘Never before have I been so compromised.’ He let out a heavy sigh and turned back to her. ‘When I’m with you I think things, I feel things I would never before...’ he clenched his jaw and looked back at her. ‘You’ve ruined me, Asana.’ 

Asana’s lips parted, letting out the faintest gasp. Her eyes flickered down for a second, betraying her own vulnerability. Then they met his again with such assurance, in her self, this moment that it almost frightened Tobirama. 

‘I’ve ruined you.’ She sighed. ‘As far as confessions go that has got to be the worst I’ve ever heard.’ She can see the uncertainty in his gaze. ‘But you were right about one thing, Tobirama.’ She paused. ‘I can read you and I know what those words mean—to you anyway.’ 

Asana reached up and brought a hand to his cheek, fingertips lightly caressing his face. ‘They mean that you chose me, as I do you.’ And before he even has the chance to process those words she kisses him.

The truth was they didn’t really choose each other, their hearts did and against their better judgement. 

Asana chooses Madara

Asana did what she does best. She broke into Madara’s home and sat on the table, waiting for his return. And she didn’t have to wait long because before she knew it he was walking through the door. 

Madara stopped in the centre of the room with a smirk. ‘No sake today?’ He said, trying to hold her eye. ‘Am I to take that this as bad news then?’

With a sultry smile, Asana pushed herself off the table and walked towards him. ‘Are you expecting bad news?’ 

‘Well, you do have a choice to make.’ His smile faded. ‘Or do you wish to torture us forever?’ 

Asana took a long moment to look him up and down. When her eyes met his again, she bore a serious expression. ‘And who was the one who gave me such an ultimatum?’ She paused. ‘You want me to choose you. Why?’ 

The hint of a smile crossed Madara’s lips. He knew what her visit meant but he wasn’t assured enough to take it as succession on his part. He also didn’t want to scare her away. If there was one thing he knew about Asana, it was that she wasn’t one to be chased by just any suitor. 

‘I was party to the ultimatum,’ he paused, his gaze finding her lips. ‘Because I want you.’ His gaze snapped back to hers. There is a hint of surprise on her face followed by a small smile. 

‘We all want things, Madara.’ She frowned a little. ‘But we don’t always get what we want. Not by simply wanting it anyway.’ The frown disappeared with the thought. ‘Perhaps the better question is, why do you want me? And why there is a reluctance in your eyes when I ask such a question.’ 

‘I’m sure you want similar things for similar reasons.’ Madara’s tone grows serious. ‘But one can never be sure of such things. So you will forgive my initial reluctance.’ He stepped closer. 

‘Are we doomed to go in sentenced circles until one of us gets to the point, finally?’ Asana whispered, lifting her chin a little to get a better angle at his gaze. 

‘Very well then I concede.’ Madara gave a playful huff. ‘I will always concede against you and you know it.’ He leant forward. ‘Because I am yours, whether you will have me or not.’ 

Asana observed his expression, noted the undeniable honesty that came from the rawness of the moment. She let go a shaky breath. ‘Well then, I guess that answers both our questions.’ And then he kisses her again and again, until he is certain that it isn’t an illusion.

[pokefarm-q]

firewolf1117 refuckingceipts (it's all been removed now but people archived it)

this bitch:

When you say “All Cops are”, here’s what you’re really saying:

All Blacks are Criminals All Mexicans are Illegal All Americans are stupid, fat, and lazy All Rape Victims are liars All Suicide Posters are Attention Seekers All Muslims are Terrorists All LGBT deserve to die

Are you outraged yet? GOOD.It means I touched a nerve.

You would never, ever, EVER say those things about those groups of people because you KNOW that it’s not true, even in the slightest. There are so very very FEW Cops who are actually corrupt and using their power and position inappropriately.

So what gives you the right to say the same about cops? COPS! Who are practically SOLDIERS! EVERY DAY their family lives with the fear that they won’t return. EVERY DAY they put their lives in danger to PROTECT you! They, as a whole, deserve your RESPECT!!! MOST ALL “Brutality” cases are from the CRIMINAL fighting, disrespecting, grabbing a weapon, etc. If you’d just COOPERATE AND BE RESPECTFUL you’d be treated FAIRLY!! Cops don’t have the time to sort things out. Their snap second decisions PROTECT them AND nearby Civilians. You can’t possibly understand the FEAR AND TERROR they hold EVERY SECOND of EVERY DAY! So don’t you DARE judge them for mistakes.

and here’s the response of one brave user, this legend, this badass mofo, who replied to their bullshittery and got banned for a day for posting in the whiny crybaby bitch’s journal without permission:

Replying to this, because FireWolf1117 is intentionally spreading misinformation and hate. I don’t care if the staff is going to tell me off for this — for once, I care a little more about setting this right than following the Journal rule.

First of all, United States cops are legally not required to save civilians. It’s not considered unconstitutional, according to the case Warren v. District of Columbia (444 A.2d. 1, D.C. Ct. of Ap. 1981). To keep it short, cops can literally see crimes being committed and decide not to intervene if they feel like it. This has been quite common among police departments if you (objectively) compare the police’s actions during BLM protests and anti-lockdown protests.

Anyways, let’s get to your generalizing logic. I have to agree with you on one thing: generalizing is bad. No group should be generalized because of some rotten apples. However, this doesn’t count for cops. Here’s why not:

The police force isn’t a marginalized group. A police officer is a profession. A job. Cops are public servants. They work for the state, for the civilians. And that’s why they need to be held accountable for any misconduct they commit. Which is, unfortunately, is objectively not the case. According to statistics from https://mappingpoliceviolence.org, 99% of United States cops who have killed citizens have not been criminally charged, because police departments literally protect officers from getting tried. Of the 750+ shootings done by police this year, only four cops are getting tried. So much for “there are only a few corrupt ones”. Black people are also way less likely to carry a weapon compared to White people, while Black people get shot by cops thrice as likely.

What’s more, because the police force is a profession, people can quit being a police officer. This doesn’t count for most of the groups you mentioned: Black people can’t stop being Black, Mexican people can’t stop being Mexican, Americans can’t stop being American (also you including Americans kinda makes you look embarrassing lol no offense), rape victims can’t be ‘unraped’, Muslims (or even just Arabs in general) can’t stop being perceived as Muslims (even Sikhs get seen as Muslims nowadays…) and LGBTI+ people can’t stop being LGBTI+ (unless they discover they’re not). Police officers can literally take their uniform off and be perceived as normal human beings. As soon as they are on duty and take on their uniform, a huge responsibility awaits them. A responsibility that has been abused by them to the point that marginalized people will hesitate before calling the police, fearing that the police will either come too late or escalate the situation. Cops aren’t endangering their own lives. They’re endangering the lives of those they’re supposed to protect. No good person would shoot a man in his back SEVEN times for being 'aggressive’. No good person who claims to protect and serve would kneel on someone’s neck for eight minutes while that person was cooperating with them. No good person would shoot a completely innocent woman in her sleep because they raided the wrong house. (BTW, Breonna Taylor’s murderers are still walking free as if nothing happened.) No good person would shoot a 12-year-old kid for having a toy gun. No good person would kill a man in his car for… picking up his ID to show it to the cop. Just because you cooperate, doesn’t mean that you’re safe.

Your logic is clearly flawed, because you judge cops on their personality, and not on the bigger picture. All cops are “bastards” not because we see all of them are evil killing machines that shoot people on sight — it’s because they contribute to an oppressive system, whether it’s directly or indirectly. It’s more than 'just a few cops’: the government wants bad laws to be enforced, the prison system is getting used as a business model, minorities are forced to live in poor socioeconomic areas on purpose BY the government, gentrification exists, multi billionnaires are exploiting low-class working people even more, there’s a damn pandemic that’s not being taken seriously… And guess who’s at the front of keeping the fragile capitalist system intact? Right. The police. The face of the government, that’s laughing at Black people, people of color, disabled people, LGBTI+ people… No good cop exists, even if they’re nice to everyone. Good cops who speak out against the abuse of other cops get fired, because the police departments don’t want the truth to be exposed. If you truly want to be someone who saves people’s lives, then stop being a cop and get a better job, like a firefighter, an EMT, a psychologist… Anything that isn’t completely corrupted.

Even during the recent BLM protests, cops are showing off their power. They escalate situations without provocation more times than BLM protesters start shit. Also cops are committing literal war crimes by using tear gas and other chemicals against civilians (IT GOES AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION FOR FUCK’S SAKE). Not so protective now, aren’t they? The only thing BLM protesters have hurt are cops’ ego. Trust me, protesters being a little mean to cops won’t ever be as bad as all the innocent lives cops have taken and covered up.

I want to go on forever, because I have a lot more to say (such as why “All Lives Matter” is reactionary and racist, how the police force was formed in the first place, how the effects of slavery and colonialism are still being felt by Black people to this day, how and why 'riots’ can be 'justified’), but I’ll leave it at this. At least I got to give counterarguments to your points. Take care and educate yourself! (Tip: stop watching FOX News and Infowars if you do that, you’re going to develop brainrot! ;__;)

ladies and gentleman of the jury, as you can see, this user not only came into this argument prepared, but they were civil and had links (that aren’t links now oop soz). they gave this bitch plenty of opportunity to learn and grow from this without attacking her.

but your bet your ASS the poor little white girl went crying to her daddy about people ATTACKING HER and BULLYING HER FOR HER OPINIONS!!!! she uses her anxiety as a get out of jail free card CONSTANTLY, bitching and moaning about how, and these are directly quoting from HER own journal:

MAY 29, 2020

I log in to this game to have fun and escape the stresses and problems of real life. I do NOT want to be going about my business, and see “BLM” in someone’s Trainer Card, and have to deal with a surge of overwhelming emotions (whether positive or negative). I simply cannot handle the Anxiety that results.

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site. I understand you want to talk about them, and that’s fine. But out of respect for people like me, can you please do so in private with the people you know WANT to see and discuss it?

just admit you’re racist dude.

She uses CSS. SHE CAN FUCKING HIDE OTHER PEOPLE’S FUCKING CARDS. PEOPLE CAN TALK ABOUT WHATEVER THEY DAMN WELL PLEASE ON THEIR OWN DAMN PAGES. THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOU.

Also! You know she only put “whether positive or negative” to quell any hate she might’ve gotten because ANXIETY is usually not a positive emotion. There’s not even a positive CONNOTATION. and she hopes to be published by the end of the year lmfao yeah right.

and then, on JUNE 16, 2020:

I WAS going to make a post in response to the most recent announcement, but now I’m just too frazzled and upset about it. Still making a post. I’ll just be posting it off site so I can say things how I want to say them, and so I don’t have any in game repercussions.

Honestly, though. I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!! Because of this “decision”, I’m going to make one of my own. I am gone from this site until current affairs are resolved. Heck. Perhaps even after. I will NOT be a part of a site that allows…Ugh. NOT going to get into this here.

but like… she came back a month later lmao

OH AND!! Earlier this month on AUGUST 6, 2020 she posted this!

It really breaks my heart seeing derogatory remarks against Cops in people’s Trainer Cards. It’s upsetting that you feel that way, and even more so that you make your hatred so vehemently known.

Personally, I don’t know why any of those Cop comments are allowed. If someone had something in their Trainer Card against Religion, LGBT, or POC, I guarantee that statement would be removed. So why is it alright for people to make hateful, vile, disgusting remarks against Cops? Despite it being someone’s personal opinion, it’s still Hate Speech, and shouldn’t be allowed.

this bitch is part of the lgbt+ community. she’s part of a marginalized group.

The “"derogatory remarks”“ she’s talking about? #AllCopsAreComplicit #CopsStinky #AllCopsSuck

which brings us back to Exhibit A, ladies and gentlemen! Her equating #AllCopsAreComplicit and #CopsSTINKY to "All LGBT deserve to die” and a Shitton of other stereotypes. Well fucking done.

Despite bitching and moaning about I DONT WANNA SEE ANYTHING, despite there being ways she can fucking hide it HER DAMN SELF she chooses instead to bitch piss moan bitch piss moan bitch piss and fucking moan and then when someone calls her out on her genuinely harmful bullshit, pulls the wounded gazelle gambit, claims she’s being attacked, and puts in her Card that “anxiety attack! again! waaaah!” like anyone has a shred of sympathy left for her ugly ass. She can’t handle looking like the bad guy so she plays the anxiety card. She bitches about never having any friends, only depression and anxiety, and it’s like bitch no fucking wonder.

Both the top posts have been taken down, but the user who responded to her has gotten nothing but love for her mad courage in saying something when no one else dared.

Firefurrywolf made a halfassed apology (August 30, 2020) which I won’t go into but there is one line that sticks out to me because it’s such a goddamn lie:

When I state my opinion, I usually do so with grace and eloquence. I did not think about my actions this time.

… do you?

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site.

Do you… really?

I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!!

I don’t think so. You vile, disgusting, manipulative, obnoxious, PRETENTIOUS, racist, terfy bitch.

Oh, before I forget, yeah. Terf. She looks like one too. All over her insta. Gross.

NOVEMBER 19, 2019

My response to a LGBT post in one of my writing groups.

I don’t know most of these terms within the community. Don’t really care to know either, cause your preferences won’t change my feelings about who you are. I probably should, though, cause the Its and Xes really confuse me.

I knew I was a Demi-Ace for a few years. I’ve also known that I was Poly since I was early teens. But I’m also attracted to beauty and care more about who you are as a person than your preferences, so apparently I’m Panaesthetic as well?

Also firm believer of “True Love Knows NO Bounds”

Her journal got moved to 18+ because there was a post talking about sex. Might’ve even been alluding to rape. On a CHILDREN’S SITE. In her CHILD-FRIENDLY journal. It sat there for at least two months. TWO MONTHS. But I will not be posting that here, but it’s still there if anyone wants to snoop. All of this is public. Well, it was. But at least minors won’t be exposed to this histrionic little whiny whitey who is absolutely drowning in her white privilege.

Just because she changed her pfp from her face to a shitty drawing she did doesn’t hide the fact that she’s white, and the worst kind of person with little to no actual coping skills.

She claims to be an artist, a writer, all this, blah blah, but then why doesn’t she channel any of it into her work so she can get fucking better at them? She says she’s working on losing weight, so do that. Instead of shrieking and stomping your fucking feet like a toddler at the peak of their terrible two’s, throwing tantrum after fucking tantrum on a CHILDREN’S SITE about your shitty stances, go for a fucking walk. Punch a fucking punching bag. Literally anything else. You’ll feel better, you’ll lose weight faster, you’d be keeping your vitriol to your damn self and no one will “attack” you.

“Are you ourtraged yet? GOOD. It means I touched a nerve!”

She fucking wanted a reaction. But couldn’t handle it when she actually got one. I’m so embarrassed. Grow some fucking thicker skin, you’re older than I am. Grow a pair and shut the goddamn FUCK up.

For now, the evil is defeated, and I rest my fucking case.

[stonerbughead]

Maria watches friday night lights (#33)

I’m back, I’m back! So here’s what happened...I watched 5x10 on October 1, never edited my note about it, then ended up taking an inadvertent break from watching until now. Idk why, but i needed a break from like...watching tv i hadn’t seen before. Anyone else have that habit of watching things you’ve already seen when you’re going through an anxious period? Starting a new job in the same month as the 2020 presidential election fit the bill, and i wanted to really immerse myself in the final three episodes of this amazing show properly so i decided to wait until i was feeling it! Anyway to the like three people who enjoy my recaps, i hope you enjoy these last four recaps.

So without further ado, aforementioned Oct 1 recap, now edited and underneath the cut:

5x10 yoooo I have never been so amused by Buddy Garrity in my life + TIM so here we go:

TIM RIGGINS RETURNS?! Yay!!! (This is my reaction just from seeing him in the “previously on.”)

Eric’s getting recruited at a ~fancy~ restaurant! Oh shitttt

“That, right there, marks the end of the East Dillon Lions football program led by Coach Eric Taylor.” “...It’s a crate of oranges.” “Yeah, and it’s from the sunshine state. From Florida! And that can only mean one thing—year round sunshine and college funding.” Lmao alarmist Buddy is hilarious and actually not wrong here. Lol incredulous Levi: “you got all that from a crate of oranges?!”

#OperationGetTimOut!! Is Eric going to speak for him as a character witness?

I *knew* that phone call from Oklahoma Tech wasn’t gonna be good. Ohhhhh Vince you should’ve listened to Eric~~~

Oh shit everyone’s buzzing about “losing their kingmaker” and it’s playoff time! Love a good car radio scene. “So how was it honey, are we moving to Florida?” Lol

“Dad, maybe we should just talk to Coach. I need to be focused on this game on Friday night, getting my spot back.” Yes Vince stand up for yourself, take a break from those meetings! I am fearful of his dad’s true reaction tho.

“Expelling Epyck, that was a good start.” Omfg some of these teachers are too cruel! That is a severely traumatized child, ma’am!

“Impromptu speeches...” “Impromptu means not planned, Buddy.” “Okay, then promptu.” I’M LIVING for these Buddy and Levi interactions omg hilarious.

“A man can’t leave if you erect a statue in his honor.” “A plaque?” “You got money for that?!” I cannot omfgggg Levi and Buddy should take this show on the road!

Tami’s “Oh Levi you are too much.” That’s a nice way to say “fuck you” for making her take a personal day to go speak on a panel he TOLD her she’s speaking at? Smh this is why staff needs unions.

Lmao Buddy is being so extra with Eric, I can’t

...and enter Billy, here to ask Eric a favor...

“Tim Riggins? One of the best fullbacks in the great state of Texas? The boy my girl fell in love with? Yeah I’ll do that.” Damn Buddy has a crush on Tim Riggins too!! I get it dude same.

“I believe in loyalty, Billy. Sticking with your people, through good and bad.” SO EXTRA LMAO

“Hey coach you going to Florida?” “I was planning on going home and I suggest you do too, Tinker.” Ugh poor Eric having to deal with all of these rumors and the team being endlessly curious right before the playoffs!

Awww Tami’s excited about the Florida houses. “Three years with a two year option.” Damn. Aw the way that Eric looks at Tami and you know he wants to give her everything she wants 🥺

Omggg now Buddy is making the players talk up Eric Taylor 😂 his scheming truly kills me

Becky and Luke tossing a football, so precious!

Ah, there’s more to life than college football, Luke! “No one wants me.” “I want you.” Aww Becky.

Aw Billy is getting so frustrated trying to write his speech for Tim. “It sounds ridiculous.” “No it doesn’t. You’re a good brother.” Oh Mindy 🥺 fuck prisonssss he should not feel like his words have so much bearing on his brother’s literal freedom!

Yes to Vince going to Eric and agreeing to earn his way back! That’s the Vince we know and love!

I love Eric telling Tami about Tim’s parole hearing. “You going to do it?” “You bet i’m going to do it.” My heart! The way there’s no question about it 🥺

Andddd Vince’s dad predictably refuses to let up with the recruiters. But this time Vince is standing up to him!

Yesss Vince, walk away! Especially after his dad yelled at him like that; this is not your life, it’s Vince’s!

“Don’t whack her. Just a little love tap.” LMAO Luke, Tinker, Becky, and a pig. Luke is giving Tinker pageant advice for Tinker at a competition with the pig?? I can’t, that’s weirdly so cute. Becky clearly finds it cute.

Omg Tim in his all-white prison uniform I HATE THISSS

OMGGGG “I don’t want Billy to speak, he’s done enough damage.” Fuck this is gonna fuck Billy UP. But also fair...I mean, Billy DOES tend to be a fuck up?? Isn’t that how we got here?

Yessss Tami going off explaining that standardized testing isn’t the end all be all!!

“what would you have us do, meet with every kind in the state?” “Yes I would.” to a round of applause. GO OFF QUEEN TAMI TAYLOR

Yes Coach Taylor! Give us one of your epic speeches!

Poor Tim looks like he has a lot of self hatred sitting here listening to Eric talking about him 🥺

“I asked him to be an assistant coach because of his character off the field.” YES

lol Buddy Garrity getting up to speak even tho he’s not on the list 🤣

“He’s like family to me.” OH BUDDYYYY he’s coming through with a full time job for Tim when he comes out?????? Tim’s smile of relief.

“It’s time for you to let Tim Riggins come home.” YESSSSS

AW Tim sent Eric letters from prison?? My poor babe. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit more.” “I’m sorry I let you down.” “You didn’t and that’s not why I’m here.” IM EMOTIONAL

Holy shit Vince’s dad is STILL not letting up? “I’m your father. I know what’s right.” “that is enough! Get off his back!” “He needs a father, not an agent!” YES REGINA GO OFFFFF she finally snapped!

(It’s wild how Coach possibly leaving is being used in this fight in Vince’s family. Oh, Dillon!)

Oh shit Billy is yelling at both Becky and Mindy, clearly very affected by what Tim said at his parole hearing. “You did everything you could and that makes all the difference.” Aww Mindy, and Billy apologized! Too much stress for such a young family! Also unrelated but Mindy looks mad hot for the athletic banquet.

Awww I love getting to see the other teams stand up. Yeah cross country, yes girls volleyball!!!

Man, playing a sport in Texas that’s not football must suck, look at that insane applause for football vs. weak for everyone else

Buddy giving Gracie a lil t-shirt and saying, “clear eyes, full hearts...you know it?” And they’re all like “can’t...lose” and Gracie giggles! Ok that’s cute af

Omg the tension between Jess and Vince!! “Jess, I miss you. I miss you.” 🥺 aw yeah she blew him off for her brothers

Wow they made it to the playoffs for the first time in 25 years?? Well here comes Buddy’s All Hail Eric Taylor pageant. Lmao

Awww these heartfelt addresses from the team members on how much Eric Taylor has changed their lives??? Manipulative, Buddy, really. He knows what he’s doing.

Yesss Eric, give Tami that massage. See y’all, this is what being a good man looks like.

“It had the desired effect. It sure made you think twice about leaving Dillon.” “It’s a hell of an offer. I’d own that building. They have funding.” “Mmm and oranges. Don’t forget about oranges.” “Mmm that pool.” They wanna leave.

“You know what I want more than anything right now? I wanna bring these boys to state.” “I know you do.” “They deserve it.” “I know they do. But after you do that, this offer is something to think about. Because you deserve that.” Ugh I know I say it a lot but since we’re in the final four episodes now and I’m mostly talking into the void anyway — god, what a model of a wonderful and gentle and loving and communicative marriage! I am continually floored!

Becky with cowboy boots at Luke’s farm works. And ooh Luke’s mom said hi to her?? Progress!!

Aw they’re talking about how pretty they find Luke’s farm as he tries to imagine a future here in Dillon. “I have an amazing imagination. I see your next game, and you’re winning.” Awww Becky is such a cute girlfriend.

What a cute shot of Luke and Becky on the farm, “you ever think you could imagine living on a farm?” “Sure.” AWWW

Vince at Eric’s door on game day?!!! He’s asking Eric not to take the offer to Shane State when he’s supposed to already be at the field house!?!

“Having you as a coach is one of the best things to happen to me. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Either in jail or in a ditch somewhere.” Damn forget Buddy this shit is from the HEART

Eric tells him to get in the damn car and tells him he’s starting!! “You know what your problem is? You ask too many damn questions.”

AHHHHH TIM IS HOME! Showered in a flannel! My heart! He salutes Becky with a beer!

Aww Billy is so excited to have his brother home.

It seems uneasy in the home. Coming back from prison is hard.

And here they go, heading onto the bus with signs and cheers!

“I’ll tell you, this is an away game, but you look around here at the community tonight and the young players that I have playing for me, and the character they got—no matter where this community goes, that’s home.”

Damn Eric just announced he was planning to stay home in Dillon to the press. “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” says Tami. “I love you.” and with the FNL theme song playing aghkliyb I’m not ready for the final three episodes ahhh!!!

[izanyas]

Allowance

Written for P5 Writers Zine in like... 2018. I forgot to post it lmao

Rating: T Words: 2,100 Warnings: some internalized lesbophobia

Allowance

It isn't that Makoto can't deal. There isn't much she can't deal with, after all. Losing her father at such a young age and watching her sister grow cold and distant through the years have made the core of her stone-solid, independent, stable. The metaverse may bring out of her every chip in her armor and pour recklessness out of her loosened reserve, but even then, she is in control.

Even then she does not crack.

It is only irritation she feels when Ann insists to accompany her home. It's not as if she didn't see it coming: Ann has not stopped nagging at her since they discovered that Sae has a Palace. They've all been busy preparing for Akechi at the same time as they prepare for Makoto's sister, so Ann has not had much time to actively seek Makoto out, but Makoto knew she could only delay so long.

She tried everything, in her defense. The polite I'm tired and the snapping You should study for tomorrow and the soft and vulnerable, I don't feel like talking, which always leaves her with ants under her skin and makes a voice roar with laughter in her head.

Ann falls for none of them. Ann is tired and pissed off and obviously intends to follow Makoto home no matter what. There is much to say about the way Ryuuji and Yusuke underestimate Ann's capacity for tact; she does not make a scene in front of them or Ren, never, but her eyes on Makoto are glaring.

You're not escaping this time, they say. Futaba takes one look at them and inches closer to Ren reflexively.

Makoto, therefore, is angry.

Nothing else.

"I'm really fine," she says calmly as she pushes open her door.

She tries not very subtly to close it on Ann's face. Ann shoves her foot in before she can do it and forces her way inside, dropping a very quick, "Sorry to bother you," as if she ever feels sorry.

They both still in the entrance after that. Makoto's apartment is as neat and tidy as ever, the kind of tidiness that used to make her pull at the couch's threads till she felt a little like she could breathe again, but there is no noise anywhere. No light coming from the kitchen or the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

Sae isn't home.

Ann sighs in loud relief. She drops her bag in the entrance, kicks off her shoes, and makes herself comfortable on the couch. "You're not fine," she tells Makoto over the back of it. "I can tell."

"You're seeing things," Makoto replies, putting her bag down much more neatly. "Honestly, Ann—"

"No one could be seeing all this about their own sister and be fine, Makoto."

Makoto shivers. Despite the cold, Ann has not grown out of wearing shorts and skirts yet. Her legs are socked up to the thighs, where a thin strip of skin still somehow bears sign of a summer tan. Makoto has to blink and walk away to chase from her mind the sight of that inch of golden skin.

She's parched. Exhaustion weighs deeply on her shoulders, and her own legs feel the ache of running through the Casino even if they did not truly run. She grabs a glass from a cupboard in the kitchen and fills it in the sink, not offering Ann anything to drink.

Ann notices, of course. "You really are angry at me," she says.

"Of course I'm not angry at you," Makoto lies. "Why would I be angry at you?"

"For intruding on your brooding Makoto hours, that's why." Makoto hears her rise from the couch and tiptoe into the kitchen, the weight of her gaze heavy at Makoto's nape. "Well, I'm not leaving," Ann declares.

Makoto's fingers clench around the ice-cold glass. She gulps it down, almost relishing in the faint headache that follows. When she turns around to look at Ann once more, there is no trace of facetiousness on her. It doesn't bode well for Ann's temper or Makoto's current ability to deal with it.

"What do you want me to say?" she asks bluntly.

Ann seems surprised for a second. Before she can speak again, Makoto puts down the glass and comes closer. She's never more aware of their difference in height than when Ann towers over her like this, tall and gangly like Makoto has never been and never will be, graceless yet captivating. Ann blinks at her in confusion.

"What do you need to hear before you go?" Makoto says. "I'm tired, Ann. We've just spent five hours infiltrating a Palace. I need sleep—you need sleep—and whatever you think is wrong with me, it isn't. I'm fine."

Ann contemplates her for a silent moment. When she smiles, it isn't as bright as it usually is. "You even sound like you believe it," she replies, "but how long have I known you now? I remember how you looked when it was that yakuza scum's Palace we were investigating. I'd say you're twice as anxious now as you were then."

"Of course I'm anxious," Makoto says evenly. "There's a lot at stake here."

Her patience grows thinner and thinner; there are urges under her skin, the feel of leather and metal on her body as she punches through a Shadow's heart, the sound of Johanna's wild laughter making her breath turn to fire. She has never wanted to let go so badly outside of the metaverse.

"Makoto," Ann says gently, and the weight of her hand on Makoto's shoulder seems to make her push through the very ground. "There's no one else here. You don't have to be strong around me."

Makoto cracks.

She shoves Ann's hand away too harshly, harshly enough to hurt, but she feels no remorse for it. "What do you want me to say!" she snaps. "What do you want to hear, Ann, that I'm unhappy with this situation? That I'm glad we're all digging around my sister's heart looking for what made her so twisted!? Of course I'm unhappy!"

Ann is holding her own wrist and looking at her with wide eyes, but Makoto can't stop now. She can't apologize or regret.

"She raised me," she says, barely noticing how raw her voice sounds. "Maybe she was distant, and maybe she expects a lot of me, but she raised me. She was there for me after our parents left, she took care of me, she—" she has to breathe to stop the knot in her throat from turning into sobs. "She's the only family I have left," she goes on. "What am I supposed to do now that I know she's corrupted her own heart so much that she grew a Palace and never told me about it?"

Sae has never been one to open up. Perhaps before—before their father died, before she had to turn into a parent for the sake of Makoto, sacrifice her freedom and social life for the sake of her useless baby sister—perhaps then she was less strict. Makoto has half-buried memories of the both of them playing and laughing when Sae's workload was not so terrible, or when she was still a student with more free time. She recalls her big sister playing with dolls like a puppeteer, using weird voices for different roles, putting on a play in Makoto's small bedroom until Makoto laughed herself to tears.

There are tears in her eyes now, but not from any kind of laughter. "Akechi is going to try to kill Ren," she hiccups. She brings her hands to her face and plasters them over her eyes, hoping that the pressure will keep her cries at bay. "We have to make sure he survives—we have to make sure he—Haru's dad," and then a sob breaks her voice as the fear that keeps her awake at night finally comes into words. The anxiety that has her choking on air in her dark bedroom until she thinks she will die. "What if my sister dies too, Ann? What am I supposed to do if I kill her by trying to save her?"

None of them think of the break-ins as an act of charity for those they rob; the people whose hearts they change are scum, the worst that the world has to offer, and they deserve to face punishment. But Makoto has never once managed to think of Sae as guilty.

Ann's arms come around her, too tight and too hurried. "That wasn't our fault," she says, "you know that was Akechi."

"I can't stop thinking about it!" Makoto shouts. "I can't!"

I can't lose my sister too!

Ann's embrace turns firmer. Her face is knocking into the hands that Makoto has kept over her face, and Makoto's elbows must dig painfully into Ann's shoulders, but Ann is relentless. In this as in all things, she refuses to back down.

In the end it is simply easier to accept it. Easier to wrap her own arms around Ann's middle and dig her face into Ann's shoulder, staining her shirt with tears and snot as she shakes and sobs. Makoto has never cried quite so loudly before, she realizes. Not since she was very little. Shame rises in her in the midst of all the fear, yet Ann just shushes her, presses a kiss to her temple and runs long fingers through her hair.

They've never held each other like this before. Makoto cannot stop her heart from beating askew now any more than she could in the past when Ann laughed too brightly or moved in such a way that Makoto's eyes followed the length of her body, the dip of her collarbones, the shape of her legs. Her lips.

She's never thought so lowly of herself for it before.

"She never said anything to me," she repeats into Ann's wet shoulder. "She never told me how she felt. I'm the worst sister in the world."

Ann's voice immediately retorts with words of denial, of comfort, but Makoto does not listen. She doesn't want to be fed lies about her responsibility. If she had cared for her sister better, then Sae would never have become the Phantom Thieves' target.

She never would have become Makoto's target.

Ann doesn't pull away from the hug. As long as Makoto stays, she doesn't move. It must be uncomfortable for her; Makoto knows that at this point it is not just despair keeping her clinging, but for all that she resents herself for it, she can't let go. She doesn't want to let go and go back to ignoring her own feelings.

I'm sorry, Ann, she thinks, burrowing deeper into the girl's embrace. Please let me have this.

Ann's fingers in her hair drag shivers out of her scalp.

She does have to pull away eventually. Even here there are limits to what Makoto can allow herself; she won't pretend to be upset now that her crying has turned to soft breathing and that simple exhaustion has settled inside her languidly. It is with greater effort than ever that she leans out of Ann's arms and looks away from her, sniffling quietly.

She risks a glance in Ann's direction. Ann's eyes are bright too, a single tear track on her flushed cheek shining from eye to lip. She gives Makoto a trembling smile and says, "Your makeup is all smudged."

Makoto goes rigid when Ann's fingers touch her cheek. She stops breathing as they wipe carefully under her eyes and over her cheeks, trying to reign in her immediately blush. "Ann," she says.

But Ann is not listening. For once Makoto is the one who feels trapped under the weight of her eyes.

She doesn't move away as Ann approaches; doesn't pretend not to want it when Ann bends down and puts a kiss over the lowest part of her cheek, right at the corner of her lips. Makoto turns her head aside to meet her fully.

She can feel the hitch in Ann's breathing as if it came from her own throat. Maybe it did, she thinks light-headedly. Makoto closes her eyes and presses further into the kiss, unable to keep her eyes open for fear of Ann's reaction, taking in the softness and proximity for as long as she will be allowed.

She needn't have worried.

It is only a long moment later that they both pull away. Makoto's heart is a chaos in her ribcage, fluttering like a trapped bird, knocking and bruising. She knows her face has grown crimson; she can see, though she will not look higher than Ann's chin, that Ann looks exactly the same.

She forces her mouth open and says, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ann replies in the same breath. "Don't be sorry."

In her smiling eyes, Makoto finds the very opposite of disgust.

She smiles back.

[bitegore]

I was tagged by the absolutely awesome @gold-from-straw and I’m gonna tag a few people so uhhh... @mllemusketeer , @poplitealqueen , @travellinglemonworkshop , @chaotictrickster , @ternaryflower53

post: 

A snippet of your work in progress

The theme song for your WIP

The theme song for your protagonist

The theme song for your antagonist

The theme song for your protagonist’s love interest (if they have one)

The theme song for the main pairing of your WIP

The theme song for the opening chapter (if it’s a long fic)

Song for the current chapter/page (if it’s a long fic)

Any other songs you’d like to mention and why

and then tag some friends and have fun!

A snippet of your work in progress

They dragged him before the council again. They shoved a single cube of energon into Megatron’s hands and forced him, again, to his knees. He made to lift his head and the enforcer on his right snatched the cube from his starvation-weakened servos. “Bow, filth, and you get your precious energon back,” the enforcer snapped. Megatron weighed his options—his dignity, or his life?—and then slowly inclined his head, training his optics on the floor.

“Good mech,” the enforcer purred, and held the cube out again.

Megatron snatched it and, this time, drained it in one quick gulp. He heard the enforcer to his left chuckle.

How he wished to tear off their faceplates and bash their faces to shattered wrecks beneath his fists. But he knew it was hopeless, and so he knelt on the floor of the Senate, and he waited.

“Megatron of Tarn,” one of the councilors said, voice laden with condescension. Megatron had never bothered to learn who was who, and so all he knew was that this was one of many mechs with too much power and too much arrogance than could possibly be good for anyone other than themselves. ”You have disobeyed the will of Primus and defied your path in life . You have attempted to tempt others to follow in your sinful footsteps. You have attempted to seduce others to follow your evil rhetoric. Is this not true?”

Megatron raised his optic ridges, though he kept his gaze fixed on the floor. He didn’t want to tempt the enforcers to do something to him that he couldn’t fight off. “Is this meant to be some mockery of a trial?”

One of the enforcers hit him over the back of the helm with something, and Megatron winced as his optics shorted out for a moment.

“Megatron of Tarn, you stand accused of these heinous crimes,” the unnamed senator snapped. “Are the charges true?”

Megatron attempted to lift his head and received another brutal blow to the back of the helm instead. “Frag you!”

An angry rumble went around the room.

“Admit your guilt,” the senator snarled at Megatron.

Megatron gritted his dentae, bracing for the blow he knew would come. He glared at the senate floor. “The things I’m accused of—you are the guilty ones!”

The theme song for your WIP

A Song for the Nameless by Sworn In(video) (lyrics)

At its core, Project Forged Chains is about revolution, but also at its core, Project Forged Chains is about brainwashing and brainwashing aftermath. A Song For The Nameless is kinda about both. At once. Both about dismantling the prejudices that one holds and , also, about breaking one’s programming in the more literal sense.

The Great Die Off by Rise Against (video) (lyrics)

This one is just pure revolution. Revolution a la we’re going to end you and supplant you and build a better world in your wake and you are not allowed to bring your ideals to our new order.

The theme song for your protagonist

Zero Visibility by Rise Against (video) (lyrics)

Megatron wants to make things better. The problem is, he’s never gotten to see a better world. He’s going to keep trying and keep trying, but his guidance is just a guess in the dark. At least the Decepticons will be with him for the ride, but there’s no guarantee his world will be a better one so much as it will just be one that strives to be better. They walk through the dark, and Megatron, blind, tries to guide them down a path he cannot see.

Forty Six and Two by Tool (video) (lyrics)

Megatron gets shadowplayed and brainwashed. Forty Six and Two is about digging out the secrets and pitfalls in your subconscious mind. Unfortunately for Megatron, that’s…a bit more literal than the song originally was.

The theme song for your antagonist

Red Right Hand by Karliene Reynolds (video) (lyrics)

It’s so quintessentially Proteus. Proteus controls the Senate, controls the people, does all these things for power and blackmail and pulling all the strings in his own metaphorical red right hand. He wields his money and privilege like an executioner’s axe. He’s also generally a douche who doesn’t conceive of the people he considers ‘lesser’ as real beings, but that’s kind of besides the point, because every nobleman Cybertronian did that. That’s why Megatron’s gonna kill em all lmfao

The theme song for your protagonist’s love interest (if they have one)

Never go Back by Evanescence (video) (lyrics)

This one is really good for when Orion starts to lose his strong sense of morality after seeing everything that the Decepticons face from the Decepticon perspective and not as an outsider and then an Autobot. He starts to feel like he’s coming undone, and the only thing that really keeps him grounded is Megatron—but of course, Megatron himself is looking to dismantle the rest of the world and bring Cybertronian society crashing down about everyone’s ears. Don’t get me wrong—Megatron has a hell of a moral compass himself, albeit a somewhat rewritten one, but he and his views are not very good for Orion as he’s going through the downward spiral of yet another Patented Optimus Prime Crisis of Conscience(tm).

Ticks and Leeches by Tool (video) (lyrics

Basically, Orion @ the upper class’s mistreatment of his newfound close friends in the Decepticon movement and…well…everywhere, ever, really, Functionism fucking sucks.

The theme song for the main pairing of your WIP

Become the Beast by Karliene Reynolds (video) (lyrics)

Orion isn’t getting the option of staying his original, somewhat more idealistic self here; he’s being dragged headfirst into the dangerous life of being a rebel, and, eventually, an insurgent rebel, by the Decepticons and especially by a newly-minted, forged-in-fire-and-furious-about-it Megatron. He may have found new friends, and love, and all this nice happy belongingness among the Decepticons, but ultimately it is a dark path he winds up walking here.

Better Things by Memphis May Fire (video) (lyrics)

It’s very much Megatron about Optimus @ Proteus after the Chainlink arc (which is currently plotted for chapters 14-17!). Orion helps Megatron get himself together after everything, but Optimus is the one burning in fire and fury beside him. And together, they will remake the society that broke them.

The theme song for the opening chapter (if it’s a long fic)

White Washed by August Burns Red (video) (lyrics)

Megatron here is arrested and forcibly stopped from doing what he does, but he still has that anger and rebelliousness in him.

Song for the current chapter/page (if it’s a long fic)

Sink With You by Underoath (video) )(lyrics)

It just hits really hard for everyone in this chapter. Sink With You is fundamentally about losing hope and still being defiant and angry about it. Orion and Megatron are both at this point by this chapter, already.

Any other songs you’d like to mention and why

The Product of Hate by Ice Nine Kills (video) (lyrics)

It’s just so good for, well. The entire story, really. Anything dealing with the revolution against Functionist Cybertron and functionism as a whole has to deal with the violence inherent in the system, the mistreatment of the lower classes…and the inability of the middle and upper classes to recognize it until it’s thrown in their faces and plastered on the walls and even then the better-off mechs all tended to join the Autobots. The Product of Hate is about real-world racism.

The Power in Belief by Ice Nine Kills (video) (lyrics)

It feels like the whole Decepticon movement is kind of encapsulated in the concept of “we can do this if we fight hard and we believe in the cause.” And, of course, Decepticonism is like three quarters of the story, so if there wasn’t something to say about Decepticonism there would be something wrong, lmao.

Destruction of Myself by From Ashes to New (video) (lyrics)

Megatron internalizes a whole bunch of really bad shit between chapters five and seven. Blame Proteus.

[hoshyeoms]

Hey friends!!! So today (04/04) marks 1 whole year since I’ve gotten into K-Pop!! While my blog isn’t the biggest for things like this, I wanted to do one anyways to kinda let the people who have made this last year so unforgettable and so much fun!! Thanks to you guys, I’ve become apart of something I never could have imagined! 💕💕💕💕 (ignore the fact I spelled appreciation wrong lmao)

A: 

@afoxthing : hiii!!~~~ I know we literally just started talking, but I already consider you a friend!! You are super cool and sweet, and I’m so excited to hear all about your concert experience with The Rose! 💕💕💕

@alli-ackles-xoxo: ALLY BBY ILYSM, I know I kinda suck at messaging you cause I’m literally always at work :((( but I love when we do get to talk!! I can’t wait til I get to go out to germany and see you one day cause lets be real here, I’m coming to germany when I marry my rich famous boyfriend lmao. I get so excited anytime you post on instagram cause I love seeing all the fun things you’re doing and all the lil adventures you go on all the time! You’re gonna have so much fun in the married life and I can’t wait to see all your cute pictures. I love you Allyyyyy 💕💕💕

D: 

@doublebam1a : Ray!! Hi hun!! We also don’t talk much, but being in the GOT7 chat with you is still so much fun!! I was so beyond excited to hear all about your 24k show and your interactions with Sunny! The chat will be on the up again soon, we just all gotta get away from the business of everything! I hope we do get to become closer soon!!! 💕💕💕

G:

@godwangit : Lara!!! I’m not sure if you come on here much anymore, but if by chance you do see this....you were my first kpop friend! While we don’t talk much anymore, I like seeing all your tweets! I’m so proud of you for going through driving school and it’s scariness!! I know you’re doing super well and if you don’t already have your license, you’ll for sure have it soon!! Thank you for helping introduce me to all of this. Without you, I probably would have never gone past ToppDogg, I would have never listened to BTS, or started to explore more and making more friends. If it wasn’t for your kindness to answer all my ridiculously clueless questions and screaming about the beginnings of my collection of stuff! Thank you for everything!💕💕💕

I:

@imjaebumaf : ANNIE, MY ANNIE BANANIE HI SWEETHEART!!! I love you so dang much, and I am SO beyond thankful we became friends. I went from adoring your blog to holding you so close, wow. You are so darn beautiful and sweet and fun and I’ll never forget one of our first conversations literally being you sending me a picture of a snake and it saying “hey bitch” under it while I was bored at work. I laughed so hard, I literally was in tears. The girl I was closing with thought (and probably still does) I was absolutely crazy! You’re always the cutest and I am so thankful I get to talk and be friends with someone like you! I know you’re probably studying hard (way too hard ms. 37 hours awake *cue stern mom look*) but summer will be here soon enough and you can relax!! Don’t stress yourself out and good luck on upcoming exams, I am rooting for you always!!! 💕💕💕💕💕

L:

@lamptastical: I’m not leaving you out of this one, and I’m coming in hot and heavy with a nickname I know you’re gonna hate but I’m gonna secretly call you cause it makes me happy deal with it. You’re my BumbleBre (ayyy it’s cute isn’t it? You know it is, I’m sure you’re smiling looking at it, shaking your head, then telling me it’s dumb, but you secretly love it (; ) my literal guide to life, the only person who didn’t and doesn’t mind that sometimes I’m just a little messy. My head isn’t as correct as I think it is, and you deal with my stubborn ass. You’re like the big sister I needed, the one who talks to me about everything in the world, and helps me when I need it. I try to be there for you and I know I’m really bad at it, but I’m always here, even if I’m being super annoying (which I’m working on). I am so thankful to have become friends with you, on the level of all of our talks, especially the ones screaming about all of our favorite people and the ones with no words, just memes. Thank you for everything, I hope we can hang out one day soon!! I love you B 💕💕💕💕

P: 

@park-sungshine: Hi Mandaaaa!! You’re super dang adorable and I love your love for odd animals! You seem so dang cool I’m just kinda bad at starting and holding conversations until I get closer to people, but I know we’ll for sure be talking one day!! 💕💕💕

@pinkhoodiemark :  I can’t do something like this without mentioning the one person I literally cannot believe I was blessed enough to meet. Emi, my literal best friend. Last summer, when I was just a weird lil Mark bias floundering in the confusing waters of being a new ahgase. I followed you cause of course I needed Mark blogs in my life, I needed all the Mark blogs. Then we became mutuals and I was literally screaming to my other friends, I literally loved everything about your blog, you seemed so heckin chill and I couldn’t believe THE pinkhoodiemark followed me on tumblr holy cow!!!! But then to find out you were also seeing Day6 in Detroit, no fucking way my man, there just ain’t no way! But is that the best part, heck no it ain’t! You may know me as the stupidly excited person, but walking up to the group of you, Jes, Marah, and a few other people I was literally shaking. Here I am, 20 years old walking up shaking with my dad cause I was too scared to say hi to any of you guys (funny to think about now). Spending all that time in Starbucks freaking out about Got7 together, reading the Japanese on my pocky to me, and screaming about anime with Marah while standing in the rain outside the Music Hall! Ending the show and immediately finding each other to scream about hi touch, and make plans for the next hang out. But finding out you literally live a 20 minute (15 if I drive fast enough) drive from my house was the best part! My dad always told me to stop feeling so sad because the friends I made were never close enough, I would meet people with my same interests who were close enough and want to do the same things as me, and boom there you are! Sure you’re busy cause of school, but we still see each other when we can. I can’t believe I got the coolest and smallest best friend. Someone to cry about got7 with, who I’ve told all of my secrets to, and I still can’t believe we got to walk into each other’s lives. Even when you spent a whole day with me and my family at a trampoline park almost 2 hours from our house because I didn’t want to be third wheeling anyone. I love you so much dude, I suck at telling you in words cause I’ve never had an irl friend that meant so much like you. I can’t wait for our future adventures, and one day visiting you while you’re successful and thriving in Japan! There’s no one else I would want to spend 2 hours driving around Michigan looking for monkey bread at like 9pm with lmao. 💕💕💕💕

S: 

@sunkissedjae: Gabby, girl, you are BEAUTIFUL! I love that we have that mutual tagging each other in stuff relationship, a lot of friends I’ve made started that way. I also love that you seem to always get the weird references I make on here, or when I talk about Rich Brian you scream about him with me. You a real pal my dude. 💕💕💕

T:

@thekoreanguys: KIARA BBY GIRL I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, we’ve kinda lost touch because of the hurricane and you moving and then me getting super busy but I think about you all the time! I’m for sure going to work on remembering to text you more often and talk longer than a few short messages. Thanks for being so amazing, also you’re 1/2 the reason I realized Yugyeom is my ult so like because of you and Evie torturing me with his pictures, I became the trash I am today. I love you sweet girl 💕💕💕

W: 

@whaaattheflower: Hi Ru!! Girl, first off you are so dang beautiful, I love when you send me snap selfies cause that gives me more reasons to remind you how beautiful you are! I know I’m not often in the net chat, but I do read the messages sometimes when I’ve got a little time to try and catch up and you always make me laugh so hard! You have the best jokes, and memes. You should honestly just be a comedian! Thank you for being a friend (golden girls anyone?) and screaming about tons of groups with me. From my Day6 hi touch, to my 24k fan meet, to the stress of MX tickets. You’re so special 💕💕💕

Y: 

@yokonami: Rinnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!! Hi !  My absolute favorite JinJin bias, Rin you are so beyond sweet and so dang smart!! I love being able to send you cute lil love messages, and girl when you saw Astro and met Jinwoo I was so dang excited. As I was reading your messages, I literally was jumping up and down!!! I really hope our friendship gets even closer this year, love you lots!!! I also love that you are into pretty much all of the same groups, and that you scream about f(x) so much. I know everyone loves f(x), but you’re the only person I talk to that literally screams about them lmao I love that about you!💕💕💕

[accio-infinity-stone]

A Monster Part 2 (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Part 1

Requested by @curiousplanets: ALRIHHT OK IM SO EXCITED NOW. can I have a part two of A Monster? where it's the next full moon and Newt, reader's now boyfriend, insists on helping the reader out through her full moon (idk exactly how lmao) and she is like no no no you will get hurt and there's tears and shit? idk i'm feeling the ANGST. feel free to change part of it to make it flow easier. thanks in advance!

Word Count: 1,514

Warnings: Mentions of injury, self hate, crying.

A/N: I might write a part 3 because DAMN

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

“I want to come with you.” Newt said desperately.

“Absolutely not.” You said firmly. You didn’t know where the newfound confidence came from, perhaps because you and Newt had already had this conversation about a million times.

“Please let me come with you.” He said. You were looking at your feet, unable to look at him. You knew that if you did, you’d end up caving at the sight of his frightfully concerned face. Newt often wasn’t easy to read but he didn’t bother hiding his desperation now. You two were in your shared apartment in London doing something that rarely happened between the two of you, you were arguing.

“Newt, I said no.” You repeated, turning your back to him so you wouldn’t have to see his worried face. You could feel the tears building behind your eyes but you willed them to stay put. You were not going to cry. You wanted to show that you were strong and believed the decision you were making was a good one and tears would just turn you into a mess. They always did. You didn’t need Newt’s pity, you needed him to be safe and him coming with you tonight would most definitely put him in danger.

You and Newt had been dating for three months now and you could see that every full moon took a piece of his heart. He loved you and you loved him, so you knew seeing you in the state you were in after full moons was hard for him. You had, of course, tried telling him that he deserved someone better. Someone who wasn’t broken. Someone who wouldn’t hurt him every month. Someone who wasn’t you. Yet the stubborn magizoologist wouldn’t listen. And here you were again, about to hurt the man you loved.

This month was the first time he had brought this up though. A few weeks before the full moon, he had proposed the idea of coming with you when you transformed. You had told him that it was a firm no and he seemed to accept that, you had thought it was the end of the conversation. Until he brought it up again about a hundred times.

“Y/N, you can’t keep doing this alone. I could come and keep away the dangerous animals, I could come and try to keep you safe.” He begged. You whirled around, incredulity clear on your face. You couldn’t believe him. How could he just stand there, in all his messy haired, loose shirted glory and say that?

“Keep me safe? Me? Who would keep you safe?” You said, your voice getting louder. You couldn’t remember a time when you had yelled at someone. It came as a shock, to both of you. The shy, quiet Y/N suddenly yelling? You couldn’t stop though. How could he say that? You didn’t deserve to be kept safe. You were a monster. Especially when in that state. A monster who wouldn’t think twice about hurting this kind, selfless, curious man.

“I can keep myself safe.” Newt said, his voice still at a normal level, quite unlike yours.

“You can’t keep both of us safe! You can’t be safe. Not from me! Not when I’m like that!” You felt tears streaming down your reddened cheeks. Of course you were crying. Of course you were. The word “weak” kept swimming through your mind. You wanted to run away, to curl up into a ball, to hide yourself from the world.

“I could stay away then. Away but close enough so that when the moon goes down I could help you home.” He argued, taking a step closer. His sudden proximity seemed to put an immediate damper on your anger. You now just stood there in silence as tears streamed down your face, looking at the ground. You hated arguing with him. It rarely happened but when it did, you couldn’t stand it. Newt noticed your silence and walked closer to you until you were staring at his bare feet instead of the ground.

He tentatively lifted your chin slightly so you would look into his bright green eyes. Newt normally refrained from making eye contact with people but with you, he felt safe to do it. You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against his, savouring his touch, his scent, his love.

“I love you, Newt.” You whispered, eyes still closed. You didn’t dare talk louder in fear that your voice would break.

“I love you too, Y/N” He responded.

“Do you really love me?” You asked. You felt his forehead crease against yours, in worry most likely. Clenching your eyes tighter, you pursed your lips to keep from sobbing.

“I really love you.” He said. You opened your eyes finally, to find his, still wide, and resting upon yours unwaveringly. So much emotion filled those beautiful green eyes, you couldn’t look away.

“Then let me do this alone.” You whispered. Silver lined his eyes as he took a shaky breath.

“I have, Y/N, you have been doing this alone since you were bitten.” He said. You flinched at that word. Newt noticed this, he noticed everything. “Y/N, I love you and I cannot keep seeing you come home bleeding and bruised.” You pulled away from him, turning around so he couldn’t see your face.

“Is that really why you want to come?” You asked. This thought had been nagging at you since you got together. You wanted to dismiss it as absurd but why else would he be with you? Why else would he deal with all the issues and problems you bring?

“What do you mean?” He asked tentatively, not quite liking the new tone in your voice.

“Do you want to come to keep me safe? Are you with me because you love me? Or do you just want to study me?” You finally said it, the thought that had been eating away at you since the beginning.

Silence. He wasn’t answering. How long has it been since you asked the question? 10 seconds, 11 seconds, 12, 13. Why wasn’t he answering? Dread filled your stomach, maybe you were right. Maybe this horrible thought was true. You felt the lunch you and Newt had shared an hour ago coming up. You couldn’t take it anymore, you turned around slowly to face him.

If your lunch wasn’t rising before, it definitely was now. The sight before you brought on a new wave of tears, it felt as if one of Newt’s creatures had slashed right across your heart. Tears were flowing down Newt’s face, you had seen him show emotion before but never so raw. All of his walls were down, everything now stood so clearly before you. It was hurt that you saw.

Hurt that pushed down his slumped shoulders, that darkened his bright eyes, that covered his kind face. You were stupid. So, so stupid. You were frozen, frozen in shock or guilt, you didn’t know. The two of you simply stood, gazing at each other with such thick emotion hanging in the air, freezing you in place.

His broken, shaky breath was what snapped you from your paralysis. You scrambled to get closer to him, to comfort him, but he took a step back. A step away from you. You couldn’t help but gasp. What have you done? Newt was always the one that cared and loved you no matter what. The one who would take one step closer to you when everyone else took two steps back. And you had doubted him, doubted his feelings for you. You were a monster.

“Newt, I’m sorry.” You said, staying where you were. He needed space and you would respect that. No matter how hard you had to restrain yourself to not run up to him, to not throw your arms around his tall frame, to not say I love you as many times as humanly possible. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I love you. Please, Newt, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Then why…then why did you?” He asked, no resentment or anger in the question just pain and sadness. A sob escaped your lips as you furiously tried to wipe your tears away.

“I-I don’t know. I just-I was too afraid that it might be true because what reason could there possibly be for someone like you to love someone like me. I’m a mistake and a complication and I’m sorry, Newt.” You cried, your words tumbling out of you in a pitiful mess. “I’m sorry.” You were shaking now, there were too many emotions running through your bones.

Panic at the inevitable pain that was drawing near, hate at yourself for everything you had done, guilt at what you had said to Newt and fear, fear that you may have actually screwed up the best thing that had ever happened to you. Before either of you could say anything else…

You ran.

You ran and you cried and you whispered one word to yourself, over and over and over again.

“Monster.”

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Hey! Would you look at that, I’m not dead! And I finally wrote/finished something. Honestly, I don’t even know why anyone follows me, I’m so inconsistent. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this. I don’t know who I feel more bad for, Newt or the reader. I hope you enjoyed and as always, constructive criticism is welcome.

K LOVE YOU BYE!

[cryingbilldenbrough]

*whispers* I heard this is the place so go to talk about sad Bill Denbrough? So: I wish more people talked about how Depressed Bill is. Like even before IT/after he forgets, he's been bullied all his life for something he can't control (stuttering), he's grieving for his brother, he's dealing with guilt over Georgie s death, he's dealing with neglect from his parents/them subtly blaming him.. .. why do we not talk about this more?! I cry. More fics and headcanons need to address this ya feel

1. LMAO where did u hear that? i mean you’re right but god i cannot believe my reputation precedes me so much? 

2. ok u wanna talk sad bill denbrough? let’s talk sad bill denbrough!

bill turns 18 on a snowy day in december. 

it’s cold in his dorm room, dusty and hazy with morning light. there’s frost on the windowpane, slanting the light into fractal pieces and bill sits up to brush his finger through the ice. it burns a little, in comparison to skin that’s been bundled up under bill’s three blankets for the entirety of the night, but bill has always loved the cold. 

bill sits up in bed and stretches, shivering and watching his breath waft out of his mouth in a fog. he leans over flicks on the heat, rubbing his hands together.

there’s no fanfare. his roommate must have stayed over at his girlfriend’s house last night because his bed is mussed but empty. there’s no note, no text telling bill he’s coming back later. it’s saturday morning and bill is spending another birthday alone. 

it’s certainly not the first. bill remembers hazily spending a lot of his birthdays on his own, but he can’t quite remember why. was it because his parents were out of town? hmm, that must have been it. there’s no other explanation. 

he finally climbs out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom to jump in the shower. he turns the water as hot as it’ll go but it’s still too cold. the pipes groan and the water pressure is shitty and bill longs for the days when he could take hour-long showers. 

well. it’s less longing and more a want to be back on schedule. because somehow bill remembers taking long showers at least once a week when he lived back home, turning on the water hot enough to steam the entire room in moments and sitting down in the corner of the tub and letting it beat down over him. he doesn’t know how long he used to stay in there, letting the water turn his skin an angry red, but he can almost feel the needling water mixing in with salty tears. he remembers opening his mouth wide and swallowing the burning water from the faucet, hoping to fill himself up, to let the heat enter his body and warm his insides and fill all his nooks and crannies that felt gaping and open. 

bill’s suddenly blinking back tears, assaulted by a sadness he doesn’t understand. 

they’re only there for a moment and then the lukewarm water is washing them away, down the drain. bill finishes his shower with a lingering pain in his chest, a lump in his throat that wont go away no matter how hard he swallows. 

his mom doesn’t call. 

it’s not like bill really expected her to, but he’s disappointed nonetheless. he thinks it maybe would have been nice to hear her voice for the first time in a few months and he’s pretty sure she didn’t forget today was his birthday because it’s his Golden Birthday, turning 18 on the 18th. 

the phone doesn’t ring. it sits on his roommate’s desk and stays silent as bill dresses and brushes his teeth and makes a quick breakfast. 

he tries to linger on getting ready, to convince himself he’s doing anything other than just waiting for his parents to call, but it’s all a lie. it’s nearing noon when bill sighs and gives up, giving the beige rotary phone one last lingering glance before he leaves, locking the door to his cold room behind him. 

he decides to spend the rest of the day in the library. 

the stacks are warm, familiar and bursting with the heavy scent of paper and ink, and bill pulls up a seat at one of the study tables to write. 

the building is empty today, quiet and peaceful on a saturday afternoon. bill climbs up to the second floor, to a balcony that overlooks the entire library. sunlight filters in through large high-up windows and bill borrows a pen from the front desk and cracks open his notebook to work on his latest short story. the balcony is full of students and adults alike, each caught up in their lives, and bill lets their quiet sounds of work soothe him into his own. 

he gets lost in the writing, letting the world around him fade to dull muted tones as he crafts characters and plots and by the time he drifts back to reality the sun has set behind the windows and shrouded the library in flickering fluorescent light. he cracks his knuckles and then his neck and dares to take a peek around at the other patrons.

it’s down to just him and one other boy, a kid with sandy blonde hair who’s tucked in at a desk in the corner. his head is bent over the desk, writing lazily on a set of blueprints and bill wants to get closer, to get involved in the other student’s work but that would be rude and bill doesn’t even know where the thought comes from. 

he’s just about to pack it in, to deem this another saturday wasted and spent alone in his own head when a loud crash from downstairs startles him. he snaps his head up, looking over the side of the balcony down to find the source of the sound. out of the corner of his eye he sees the boy in the corner look to, getting up out of his desk chair in a flash to survey.

the downstairs is quiet. from where bill’s sitting he can see there’s nobody at the front desk, no friendly librarian sitting on a cushy chair and checking in books. 

in fact, the entire building seems empty. it’s a ghost town other than him and the boy in the corner and there’s this uneasy feeling in bill’s stomach, a jolt of fear that feels familiar and damning and so so right at the same time. it’s a rush of adrenaline and memory of the taste of copper in his mouth. 

bill turns to look at the boy and there’s something familiar in his eyes too, a recollection of some sort that bill doesn’t quite get. 

there’s another crash from downstairs, almost like the sound of glass breaking, and bill’s out of his seat now. he walks with purpose towards the edge of the balcony, grabbing hold of the banister with white-knuckle fingers. the other boy is close behind, coming up on bill’s right side to peer over the side. bill feels distantly that it’s right to have this boy at his side, that it’s good and familiar to turn his head and see someone at his shoulder, awaiting command. 

it’s a strange feeling and bill shakes it off. 

he’s just about to ask the boy what he thinks about going downstairs when another sound rings out.

it’s different this time. 

because bill swears he hears a balloon pop. 

it’s an impossible sound, but unmistakable. it’s startling and unexplainable and for some reason fucking terrifying. bill can feel his hands shaking and there’s a trembling on his tongue, the feeling of a silent stutter working its way to the front of his mouth and there’s this split second when bill remembers. 

the clown and the sewers and georgie and his friends and their power and his internal compass is going wild, pointing in all these different directions and bill is disoriented and dizzy and faint and the fluorescent lights seem to be flickering and there’s a draft at the back of his neck that makes all the hair on his skin stand up on end. 

he blinks and the moment is over. the boy at his back is a stranger and the librarian is back sitting behind her desk. bill can see her now, knitting needles in her hands as she hums absentmindedly and when bill tries to recall the sight of the empty chair a moment ago, he comes up empty. it’s like he climbed out of his seat in alarm for no reason. like he imagined the last ten minutes. 

he turns and the boy at his back is gone, retreating down the stairs with heavy bootfalls and bill watches him go with a melancholy kind of feeling, like he missed something. 

bill packs up his stuff, feeling a little ill, and walks home in the cold, feet freezing in his worn boots. 

his roommate is still gone when he gets home, bed made now as if he’s come back in the middle of the day just to make his bed and remind bill how alone he is. 

bill heats up dinner and reads a book and tries not to think about calling home, about dialing his parents’ number and being sent to voicemail and having to stutter out an explanation for his call past the lump in his throat. 

he turns to the bookshelf and grabs down his picture of georgie, the last thing bill has kept from home. it’s old and dusty and the picture is frayed a little in the corner but it’s georgie and bill can’t bring himself to throw it away. he always gets a little teary when he looks at it, a little sad over his brother who was taken too soon in some way that bill cant honestly remember tonight, and this night is no exception. bill runs his fingers over his brother’s gap-toothed smiling face and lets the tears run down his cheeks

“happy birthday, bill,” he whispers to himself, broken and stutter-free and somber. there’s no response, no echo to his spoken pain, and bill falls asleep with tears drying on his cheeks and his brother’s picture sitting on his bedside table. 

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