#it’s the fucked up ‘i don’t deserve x’ mindset that I’ve been trying to get rid of for five fucking years

[bighitbabie]

Chill Out! - Matt Sturniolo x Reader

A Smutty One Shot by @bighitbabie

A/N: Please don’t take this too serious- I wrote it in one sitting after rewatching the hockey vlog and getting all sorts of worked up 😳 The hockeyplayer!au is almost completely irrelevant in this, but I was just eager to write and post something because it seemed like a lot of people were down for hockeyplayer!Matt and I wanted to share the love 😙 This wasn’t planned or edited AT ALL, so I’m sorry that it’s almost definitely rushed and choppy, but let me know what you think, and if you’d be interested in reading more like this!

(18+ content, please be mindful and make good choices!)

-

As much as you loved Matt, there were times when you wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him until his whole entire brain was emptied and rebooted. His anxiety for this game had been building up for weeks, and it had become all he ever wanted to talk about. It made sense, of course. His team, the Boston Bruins, hadn’t made it to the Stanley cup finals in five years, and they hadn’t won in thirteen. You knew it was a lot of pressure, but you also knew you didn’t want to listen to him ranting the whole night. He hadn’t fucked you in three weeks, and you were starting to feel like you might as well take up the position of a nun in a catholic church if you had to go any longer without him. You were zoned out now, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking about how bad you needed his cock as he went on and on about everything his team needed to work on before their next game.

“Matt!” you cut him off suddenly, exasperated. He was pacing the room, having left you on the couch alone what felt like hours ago.

“Hmm?” He hummed, starting to chew on one of the only nails he had yet to destroy.

“Will you please come sit down, baby?” You whined, looking up at him with what was no doubt a pitifully desperate expression.

“Y/N…” He started, and you knew he was getting ready to explain to you that he didn’t have time to sit and relax when there was so much to consider and work out before the game.

“No, Matt! I’m so tired of this! I feel like my fucking hymen’s grown back, it’s been so long since you’ve fucked me!” You declared.

“I-“ He stuttered, clearing his throat. You could see his cheeks getting red, and you felt sorta bad for being so ridiculously blunt. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve just been really stressed.”

“I get it, babe, but can you please just try to forget the worries tonight? For me?” You asked, but before he could reply, you added, “Why don’t you sit back and let me suck you off, hmm?” It wasn’t quite as good as getting fucked, but any interaction with Matt’s dick would surely be enough to hold you over for a while.

Matt inhaled sharply, choking on his spit and coughing a few times. It always made you laugh, the way he was so shy about anything sexual. That was only until you got him calmed down and horny, though. Once he was in the right mindset, his mouth was so dirty that you were the one blushing.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, okay…” He said, sitting in the recliner near the couch. You smirked, standing up sauntering over before dropping to your knees in front of him. “Fuck baby, you’re so sexy, you know that?” He praises, unzipping and pulling his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off entirely. “I can’t think about anything else when you’re looking up at me like the little slut you are.” He says, starting to loosen up.

“That’s the whole point, baby.” You half-joked, pulling your hair up and using the tie around your wrist to secure it. “You need to stop thinking about this game for a little while and let me distract you. You deserve to lay back and be worshipped, not be pacing back and forth all stressed out.”

He groaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as you ran your hands over his thighs. Usually you would tease him, but by now your mouth was already watering, so you yanked down his boxers and licked your lips before stroking him a few times and putting the tip of his still hardening cock in your mouth.

He gasped again, gripping the arms of the recliner. With him still in your mouth, you moved one of his hands to the back of your head, encouraging him to push you down. You looked up at him through your lashes, taking in the sight of his blissed out expression, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. You were so proud of yourself for how quickly you were able to get him mentally calmed down, and so physically worked up. It was easy to see that with every bob of your head up and down his length, he was slowly getting into the sexy dominant headspace you absolutely lived for.

“Fuck.” He moaned, opening his eyes and looking down at you. “You’re such a good fucking girl.” He grabbed your head, pushing it down and pulling it back in a rhythm that he fully determined. You had gone almost completely limp, letting him fuck your throat however he wanted. “I love you. You’re the only one who can ever calm me down, baby.”

You smirked, pulling off of him for a breath and a quick tease- “This is you ‘calmed down’, Daddy? I’d sure hate to see you worked up…”

Matt chuckled a bit, but roughly grabbed your head and pushed you down onto him again. “Yeah, yeah. Very funny. Why don’t you just shut up and let me use that mouth of yours for what it’s really good for?” It was a rhetorical question, seeing as he was already gagging you around him. He lifted his hips up the slightest bit at the same time he pushed your head down, and your eyes started watering.

“So fucking pretty.” He praised blissfully, bringing his other hand down to your face and wiping a tear with his thumb. “Can I cum down your throat, baby?”

It warmed your heart that even after being together as long as you had, he still always asked for your consent for everything. You tightened your lips, silently giving him the go-ahead, and he pushed your head down hard on him one last time as his cock throbbed and shot his cum down your throat. He kept you held down for a moment longer, then finally released you and tried to catch his breath. “Thank you, baby. I needed that.”

“I know, Daddy.” You told him, the tears on your face drying as you wiped the mixture of spit and cum off your lips with the back of your hand. “I always know.”

[bookshelf-dust]

🪩 Ok, I desperately need a Billy letter. Maybe it’s like a love confession and he has to write it down because every time he’s tried to say it, he can’t get it out ‘cause he’s still in the mindset of emotions being bad/“girly.” Maybe you could turn this into a ficlet (I forget what the emoji is) and maybe after you read it, you tell him you love him too and he gets so excited/relieved and he’s like “I fuckin’ love you so much.”😁😁

That was longer than I thought it’d be.

slumber party shenanigans

billy hargrove x gn!reader

a/n: sweetheart!! my love!! my dearest!! this is so sweet. and it’s totally okay that it ended up being a little longer. i tried to capture him the best i could in this way. i really hope you’re happy with it <333

————

🪩 you want me to paint your nails?— i’ll write you a mock love letter from the character of your choice. just give me a little something for them to write to you about! this one will be very new for me to try and i won’t make them terribly long, but i hope they might turn out sweet.

🖋️ want another blanket?—i will write you a little ficlet (under 1000 words) for the character of your choice. i would appreciate if you’d specify whether you want comfort/fluff/angst/whatever and i will try and come up with something for you!

Last night, he said fuck it. He was overwhelmed with everything he was feeling. Everything he was feeling for you. Everything he feels for you.

He’d been afraid he wouldn’t remember all of this come morning, or whenever else he attempted to tell you. So he rummaged around in his bag for paper, because he swore he fucking had some, and he stole a pen from Max.

Billy settled on the floor, back resting against the foot of his bed, and got to writing.

He kept having to take breaks though, or blink really hard, or shake his head. Sometimes squeeze his nails against his palm. Anything to stop that voice in his head.

You’re a pussy, feeling like this over some chick. She’s just going to break your heart. She doesn’t care about you. Even if she does, you don’t deserve her. You’re a piece of shit.

Enough, he’d tell himself, and he’d keep going.

The next morning, Billy gives you the letter he’s written in the car.

“Read this. Don’t look at me, or I’ll probably fucking throw up. Actually, you stay here. I’ll wait outside.”

Billy pushes his door open, and paces around within a few feet of the Camaro, waiting for you to read what he’s written for you. It feels like he’s laid out on a table, like you’re looking at his guts.

He hates this. He fucking hates it.

You unfold the notebook paper Billy’s given you, eyes dancing around the page. You love his handwriting. It’s one of your favorite things about him. He writes small, all of his letters in lowercase. Except when he writes his name, where in that case he capitalizes as he should, but the B and the H are always oversized and signature-esque. He does the same when writes your name.

You decide to hurry up and read the damn thing. He’s already nervous enough.

Y/n

i’ve been trying to say this for weeks. fucking weeks. but every time i try, it’s like he’s watching me. and i can’t. but this doesn’t have shit to do with him. it has to do with you and me.

i’m in love with you. i love you. there. damn.

you’re the best thing that’s every happened to me, and i know it’s cheesy, but i don’t give a shit. because i know i’m an asshole. but somehow you’ve found a way to help me be less of one, and you care about me. you look at me like i’m fucking magical or something.

you’re so sweet to Max, and you help her with stuff i don’t really understand. you help me work out things i don’t understand. you’re such a smartass. and you’re so gorgeous. there’s so much more, but i’m drawing a blank because of course i am. i’ll tell you later.

i love you. i love you, Y/n.

Billy

You take a deep breath and fold the paper back up, before getting out of the car. Billy things something’s wrong.

You round the side of the Camaro and walk straight up to him. You throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him into a hug. Billy relaxes in your hold almost immediately, body molding against yours.

You pull back enough to take his face in your hands. His cheeks are warm and red.

“Billy. I love you too.”

He presses his forehead against yours, a breath of a laugh leaving him.

“Don’t fuck with me.” He squeezes your side.

“I’m not fucking with you.”

Billy abruptly lets you go. He shakes his head like he doesn’t believe this.

“Are you sure? You’re being dead-fucking-serious with me right now?”

You nod. “I’m positive. I’m being dead-fucking-serious with you right now.”

Billy moves closer to you again, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. He tastes like cigarettes and fruity gum. You try to pull away for breath, but he doesn’t let you. He kisses you once, twice more.

The smile on his face is one of the ones you only ever get to see. It’s bright and happy and beautiful. “I fuckin’ love you so much,” Billy tells you.

He falters, though, immediately after that. “Wait, you’re not mad, are you? That I had to write it down first?”

You don’t break eye contact with him. “No! Of course not Billy. I just want you to be comfortable.” You smile at him and kiss the tip of his nose. He wrinkles it at you and tries to push away.

You slip your hands into his hair. “I love you, Billy.”

He’s smiling again. “I love you more.”

[uh0paque]

(/ — \)

[broadwayandnetflix]

i have a request for bo burnham!!:) maybe like the reader and bo watch the special when he gets done editing it and doing all the other stuff he has to do for it, and he records her reaction to the whole thing and that’s how he announces the special?? i know that’s weird but it’s been stuck in my head, so you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!

Test Run - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: FLUFF (angst if you like squint)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: y’all I wrote this so fast, like kachow. I hope you enjoyed it, and got a break from all of the angst. but angst is still good. but this fic is not me fangirling over inside. never, couldn’t be me. I hope you enjoyed the fic though @bos-a-feminist I had sm fun writing it.

It had been late one evening when Bo had practically burst into the door of your bedroom. You sat puzzled as you gave the man time to catch his breath, as he gave you an eager look.

Trying not to giggle as Bruce yipped at Bo’s feet in pure excitement, it seemed he too was trying to figure out what was going on.

“What? Are we finally gonna have sex again?” you say humorously, causing the man to break composure for just a second.

“No! I mean what the fuck? Yes, yes, and to answer your question, yes. But not right now.”

You giggle as he looks at you with an expression you couldn’t fully decipher. In any constellation, it had been months since you had seen the man this energetic.

Usually, when Bo would come back from his long days in the guest house, he’d tend to be exhausted. Often just giving you a quick kiss before collapsing onto the mattress.

His blue eyes softening towards you as he extends his hand for you to take. Which made you realize that there was an ounce of seriousness in his actions.

Your hands fitting perfectly in his as he pulls you up from the bed, one hand making sure to hold the small of your back.

“Where are we going?” you breathe out.

Bo remained silent, but you found out soon enough as he led you outside to the guest house.

You had stopped dead in your tracks, causing him to do the same. Eyes widening as you realized what was gonna happen, turning to Bo and giving him the biggest grin you could muster.

From the minute he had set foot in the guest house to begin his special, he had been very secretive about it. Something about how it helped him to create something that no one really knew about.

I mean, you had some idea when the UPS trucks kept delivering camera equipment. Or when he had asked if he could take some of your clothes. Other than that, though, top secret.

It had been about roughly a little over a year when he had started the special. A year of emotions and hard work, and by the looks of it.

It seemed as though he had finished.

“Wait are you doing what I think you are doing?” you say, looking at him expectedly.

“Shit babe you catch on quick. Yes, if we are on the same mindset. I think we are, now hush, or I’ll never get to show you it.” Bo instructs before leading you inside.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect. The last time you had seen the guest house had been roughly two years ago. Now? It looked completely different.

Wires and different camera equipment lay waste on the floor, making it almost a hazard. Other lights of various types and sizes filled the room like mini metal trees. It looked disorganized and yet organized at the same time.

Yet Bo walked through the maze of equipment with ease, almost as if it wasn’t even there. You smiled before tiptoeing to the clearing that Bo had made for you.

“Yeah apologies, I wasn’t expecting company.” Bo smirks as you break into laughter.

“It looks…well it looks well used.” you reply, getting comfortable on the chair he had provided.

In front of you sat a projection on the wall of what seemed to be an editing software. You looked back at Bo with an eager grin; he gives you a slight wink.

Anticipation settling in the air as you watched him mess around with the monitor. Until his cursor finally presses on a folder and a video screen pulls up.

You half expected him to sit beside you. Still, instead, he remains behind the computer, amongst his sea of technological instruments and cameras.

“Y/N, I’m showing this to you. Simply because you deserve to see why I’ve been so busy for like a year or more. Plus, you mean the world to me and I wanna know your input.”

Bo says softly. You can detect a hint of nerves in his actions and tone; you practically melt, realizing that was he anxious. Regardless you knew without a shadow of a doubt you were gonna love whatever he puts out.

You open your mouth to reply before he presses play, and an eerie ringing fills the room. Music filling your senses as the special, titled Inside, plays before you.

The next hour or two fills you with a multitude of emotions that you can’t quite place. It seemed like Bo was making you laugh seconds ago, and now you can’t help but feel tears well up in your eyes.

Cinematically it was stunning, breathtaking even. It was hard to believe that Bo had turned the little guest house into a studio. Or at least to the extent that it became, with its gorgeous displays and production.

Performance-wise, it was a completely different ballpark. Bo fucking delivered in more ways than one, whether in humor or just pure raw emotion.

Acting or not, it broke your heart to see the man you loved so dearly in the state that he was in. Of course, you could tell something was up even then when he was filming, but he never gave away the extent of it.

Just hearing him cry made your stomach twist in knots; you wanted to comfort him. Only to be reminded that it was just merely a video of him.

Even at the moment, it took you everything not to look back at Bo; you knew how much he valued your attention. Plus, you wanted to experience the special in full, just as you would if he were on stage.

The special wasn’t the same as his others, but it was well needed for a time like this. It felt personal and introspective, but it was also oh so clever and in-depth. You adored it and the time and effort that he had put into it.

As the credits rolled out and you saw an acknowledgment for your name, your heart soared.

You knew that the two of you had worked hard to be there for each other the past year. Especially with everything that was going on and Bo working most of the time.

To know that you had helped him in any shape or form. It just meant a lot, in more ways than he’d ever know.

The lights in the room flickered on as if he had made a make-shift movie theatre. You wiped away any stray tears, and before he could even say anything, you ran into his arms.

Bo jolting back in surprise before accepting the embrace and holding you tighter into his chest. His head resting gently on top of yours due to his taller stature.

“God I love you so much, more than you’ll ever know. I seriously don’t know if I would’ve made it out alive this past year if I didn’t have you.” he croaked into your hold.

It took you a second to realize that the man was crying, and you pulled away to meet his eyes. Your fingers brushing away his tears before reaching up to give him a kiss.

His figure bending down just a tad to meet your lips as he kisses you back sweetly. It’s light and yet so filled with passion for making up for what time that had been lost.

Yet as he looks down at you, a smile etching across his lips. As he asks you about what your thoughts are on his special, he already knows your response.

Unbeknownst to you, he had recorded your entire viewing experience. Of course, if he were to ever share it anywhere, he’d ask your permission, but it was apparent.

Even as you told him how much you loved it and how much you enjoyed it. You knew that he knew that you understood the special the way he had intended it.

It was one of the many things that made him adore you endlessly. You meant the world to him.

“We should celebrate babe! Maybe order a pizza or something.” you exclaim, arms still wrapped around his neck in your embrace.

“We definitely should, but what pizza places are open at this hour?” Bo smirks as you give him a slight frown.

“I don’t know, that’s a good question.” you hesitate.

“Actually I do know one place that’s really good and delivers.” Bo whispers seductively up against your ear.

You giggle and gesture for him to continue as he swiftly pulls away from your hold. His hand outstretched for you to take once again as he leads you towards the house. Or, more importantly, towards your bedroom.

“Me.”

——————————————————————------------------------------------

Bo sat anxiously beside you as his fingers lingered over the ‘post’ button on his different social media accounts.

The post in question was a video that he stitched together of you watching the special. With your consent, of course.

It had been edited together to be vague enough that he wouldn’t spoil the special. But nonetheless, it was sweet, and he totally made sure to include you tearing up in it.

You made it a priority to tackle him for that one.

The video was sweet and short, but it got the intended message across, and you personally loved it, just like you loved Bo and the special.

“Any-day now Robert.” you tease as you hold his one hand in yours.

“Do you think that they’ll wanna watch it?” he whispers quietly.

“Of course they will, it’s you. Baby you are so talented, your fans will be so excited.” you reassure.

Bo sighs before squeezing your one hand tightly before pressing the button. And letting Inside out into the world.

[appplepii]

tears over beers (jean kirschtein x fem!reader)

genre: angst w a happy ending, fluff, modern au

warnings: unprotected sex, mouth spitting, praise kink kinda?? choking, etc VERY NSFW hehe, fuckboy eren (slight eren x reader), mentions of alcohol and drug use

word count: 4.1k

summary:

     You don’t know your own worth, and Jean is getting sick of it.

     Jean remembers the first time he ever laid eyes on you. He remembers the way his stomach flipped when you sat in the empty seat next to him and introduced yourself, a kind smile on your face. He also remembers the moment Eren walked in and caught your eye, and the dread that laid heavy in his chest when your cheeks grew pink. Despite the fact you had just met, he couldn’t help but have distain for the boy the moment he smiled back at you, causing you to become shy and flustered. Why weren’t you nervous to talk to him?

     That’s a question the boy came to ask himself more times than he would ever admit, despite the fact that it’s been years. You and Jean had become a constant for each other, someone that was always there no matter what happened, or how much time passed. It was no question that you had become his best friend (except Marco, of course). There were certain things keeping you together that had Jean convinced it was fate keeping you in his life, from the moment you had graduated high school and decided to go to the same college that was hours away, to you working at his favorite coffee shop near the campus. That philosophy was not a strong willed one, being shot down every time you would tell him about a certain boy you were still hung up on. It was times like that that Jean thought maybe you in his life was a sort of punishment. What did he do to deserve the feeling of having what you want most in life in arms reach and never getting it?

     Years had passed at this point though, and Jean got used to the feeling of pretending he didn’t care. It got easier over time, the boy had become accepting of his fate. He was, and always will be the best friend. It was a little hard on his pride, but it definitely beats not having you in his life at all. That’s why Jean thought he would be fine when he accepted the invite to Marco’s party in which the entire friend group had been invited. A part of him was excited, knowing it had been awhile since the last reunion. Another part of him thought about the fact that he would be there, and he felt frustration slowly build inside him.

     “Ah, I’m so excited! It’s been a minute since we’ve seen everyone, huh?” The smile on your face made up his mind, knowing he could never say no to you. Jean chuckled and shook his head “Yeah yeah, it should be better than staying in that cramped dorm room doing homework” You furrowed your eyebrows, halfheartedly pushing his arm. “Oh shut up, not everyone has a mommy who can pay for a nice big apartment on this side of town.” You snickered, and Jean froze up, redness rising to his cheeks. “S-shut up! She has nothing to do with this, plus you know I’ve invited you to move in how many times now? I have an extra room that just sits empty, you know.” You shook your head and smiled “You know that my part-time job is not enough to cover rent and bills, Jean”. It was at this point Jean dropped the conversation, knowing he was fighting a lost cause. He tried explaining to you many times before he would let you stay for free, and Jean realized just how much you dislike charity work, even if it was never that to him.

     “Anyway, are you ready yet? We’re gonna be late now.” Jean ranted, looking up at the ceiling and scratching the back of his head. “Yes, you can stop complaining you loudmouth.” You bent over and put on your heel, standing back up and flattening out the wrinkles in your clothes. It was then Jean had taken a proper look at you, taking in the nicest outfit he had seen you wear in a long time, albeit quite revealing. His eyes trailed up your bare legs, and he could feel himself go slightly weak in the knees. You really were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He cleared his throat, bringing his gaze back up to your face (though unable to look you in the eyes). “Okay, we can take my car.” He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter, opening the front door and waiting for you to walk out first. Jean’s attention was brought back to you when he noticed your hesitation. His face grew a curious expression as he looked at you expectedly. “y/n? Are you-” “Are you sure I look okay? I mean.. Eren is gonna be there, do you think he’ll like my outfit?” Your eyes were glued to the ground, and your blush had become apparent as you played with your fingers.

     Jean swallowed, pushing the dreadful and nauseous feeling from the fact you had been thinking about him down. He knew you had kept Eren in mind, but he wished he could ignore it just a little longer. “You look amazing, anyone who would pass up the chance to have you is a fucking idiot, y/n.” It was at this moment you made eye contact with the boy, the gentle smile he saw when he first met you making itself visible. “Thank you, Jean. I really couldn’t ask for a better friend.” Although you had meant it as a compliment to him, all it seemed to do was twist the knife he had in his stomach for so many years that much deeper. All he could bring himself to do was smile and nod, gesturing for you to go out the door to the car.

     He unlocked the doors to his blacked out Camaro, the top coming down to reveal black leather seats (his favorite birthday present, that car was his baby.). After opening the door for you, something he had made a habit of these past years, he got into the drivers seat. Putting the car in drive, you connected your phone to Bluetooth. He always let you play the music whenever you drove together. “Ooo, I have to turn this up!” You said enthusiastically, pushing the system in his car to its limit as you screamed the lyrics and danced. Jean let his eyes leave the road for a moment to glance at you, his heart swelling at the way your hair flew around you face from the wind. He really did have it bad when it came to you.

     “Okay, I’m pretty sure this is Marco’s new place. Should we head in now?” He asked, taking the keys out of the ignition and turning to stare at you. You heaved in a deep breath before fixing your hair in the mirror, and nodding to the boy. “Yeah, let’s go.” He said nothing as he got out of the car, immediately going to your door and opening it. That was something you had to get used to, you didn’t like to feel like you were of some importance. You let it go though, once you saw how insistent he was on doing it, ranting about how he had to be a gentleman or something like that. You grabbed the hand he offered out to you, standing up and walking to the front door of the home.

     Jean didn’t bother knocking, instead opening up the front door and walking in like he owned the place. This didn’t surprise you though, besides yourself Marco was Jean’s closest friend. The two were like brothers and you knew Jean was excited to see him after so long. “Jean! I missed that stupid face, how are you, loser?” Ymir hooked an arm around the boy’s neck, clearly already slightly intoxicated. Jean let out a string of cuss words, wrestling out of the tall girl’s strong grip as you turned your attention to her much smaller girlfriend, Historia. “Hey Historia! It’s been awhile, huh?” You smiled at the girl. She had always been so sweet, and you thought her and Ymir balanced each other out perfectly. “It has! Although it doesn’t look like those two have changed much.” You laughed at the pair and how ridiculous they looked before turning your attention to the kitchen.

     “Jean,” you tugged on this sleeve “will you come with me to get some drinks?” You didn’t let him answer, knowing it would be a yes. He silently followed you to the kitchen, smirking at himself when he realized how assertive you had become, especially when you used to be so shy. You began pouring yourself a shot of vodka, “Damn, this early?” Jean laughed as you shrugged your shoulders before downing the drink, wiping your lips on the back of your hand. “Look, we gotta get the night started somehow, right?” You raised your eyebrow as you held out the next shot you poured to his face. He gave you a smug expression, knowing you were challenging him although he has proven on more than once occasion that he can out-drink you. He kept quiet though, and threw the shot back with ease. You smiled at him, each of you taking one more just to get started.

     “Oh shit, when did you get here dude?” Marco stepped into his kitchen, going straight to Jean and did a simple handshake. “Not too long ago. Anyway, look at you! Got this big ass place all to yourself, huh?” Marco shook his head and laughed, not good at taking praise. The two friends talked for awhile, Jean feeling himself relax with the slight buzz from the alcohol. It had been only a couple minutes the conversation lasted, you talking a little when you had been mentioned. Jean’s attention was pulled from Marco when he saw you tense up from the corner of your eye, noticeably becoming more shy than you previously were. His gaze followed yours, when he was met with the one thing he really hoped not to see. 

     Eren sat on the couch, leaning back into with his arms spread out against the back of it, a beer in his hand as he occasionally took drinks from it. Your stomach turned when you saw him because fuck, he looked really good. His black long-sleeve and jeans were simple, but maybe it was the bun he had in his hair that made you almost start drooling. It took everything in Jean’s power not to let out a scoff at how obvious you were being, and how stupid the entire situation was. “Just stop, Jean. It’s not worth it. She doesn’t want you.” His own thoughts definitely brought down his happy mindset, trying his best to ignore the sympathetic look Marco was giving him. 

     He watched as Eren’s eyes met yours, his smile growing as he gestured you over to sit next to him. You got impossibly redder as you nodded and smiled, looking up at Jean and silently asking if he was okay on his own. He didn’t hold back his scoff at that, waving you off. “These are my friends too, remember? I’ll be fine, go ahead.” Your smile widened as you immediately turned and bee-lined to where Eren was sitting. The pain Jean felt had a sort of sick nostalgia to it, reminding him of the day he witnessed the blush on your face when Eren had walked through the door. Taking a deep breath and clapping his hands together, he feigned the most convincing smile he had and turned towards Marco.

“I need another shot!”

     “So what was that about?” Eren laughed lowly, tilting his head toward Jean after you took the seat he offered. “Huh? What do you mean?” You questioned, completely oblivious to what he was hinting at. “You looked like you were asking him for permission to sit with me or something, he isn’t your boyfriend or anything right?” You didn’t know why, but this comment slightly annoyed you. Maybe it was the condescending tone he put on, or the subtle diss to your best friend. You didn’t know, but it didn’t sit right. Shrugging it off you decided he probably didn’t mean in that way and you put on a smile. “Nah, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t ditching him. He’s my best friend.” Eren gave an exaggerated sigh of relief as a smug expression took over his features. “Well, that sure is a relief.” He says smoothly, putting a hand on your knee.

     You felt nothing but confusion when you didn’t get butterflies, but another hint of annoyance. What is wrong with you? You’ve liked Eren for years, this should be a dream come true! But it wasn’t, and things were moving too fast for you at the moment. It’s not like you were a “prude” or anything, you just couldn’t push down the bad feeling you had in your gut. “Uh haha, yeah! Can you give me a sec? I really have to use the bathroom!” Eren assured it was no problem, and you quickly stood up causing his hand to slip off of your knee. You walked a little faster than you normally would to the bathroom, turning and locking the door behind you. You felt nothing but frustration toward yourself, why are you being this way? Before this moment, if Eren would have asked you to hook up, you thought you would have gladly said yes. You enjoyed texting him and you found him very attractive, so what is this dread?

     You fixed your hair and outfit as much as you could, trying to freshen up before you go back into the crowded living room. On your way back to the couch where you were sitting, you decided to stop at the kitchen and take two more shots. Maybe it was your nerves and the anticipation that caused your hesitation, the alcohol should help with that. Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself and headed back to your spot. Turning your gaze to where Eren had been, you froze. There he was, with a random girl sitting on his lap as he whispered in her ear.

-

     Jean sighed, stepping into the guest bedroom and sitting on the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and silently cursed himself. He wanted to have fun, he really did. But the moment he saw that flustered expression of yours from Eren’s presence, all he wanted to do was go home and feel bad for himself. His thoughts were racing, and it was probably the alcohol but he found himself becoming more angry than sad. Why didn’t you want him? He deserved you, he had always been there and he knows he could treat you so much better than that douchebag ever could. You deserve better, and fuck, so does he.

     The sound of the door being pushed open broke him out of his thoughts, and he was more than surprised to see you entering. He could already tell you were upset, he just couldn’t put his finger on the reason why. “Weren’t you with-” “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and he immediately starts trying to get into another girl’s pants? Can you believe that? I mean honestly” You continued your rant to Jean, but it was falling on deaf ears. He was getting more and more frustrated, the feeling settling in his bones as he tried to calm himself down. “I mean we aren’t dating, but all of our friends saw me sitting with him, you know how stupid he made me look? I just-” Jean whipped his head at you, a sharp glare meeting your gaze. “You want me to be real with you, y/n? He didn’t make you look stupid. You do that yourself pretty well.” The room went dead silent. You considered for a moment he was messing with you, and you let out a laugh of disbelief. “Jean what the fuck-” He stood up from his spot, his glare only hardening.

     “No! Just stop for a second. I’m so sick and tired of you fucking complaining to me when it’s you who chooses to settle for assholes who obviously don’t care about you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just a fucking idiot. But I know you’re not, and thats what frustrates me so much, you know that? You treat yourself like shit and then want me to be there to be the person who makes you feel better. I can’t do it anymore, I really can’t.” His voice had risen a little, but that wasn’t what got to you. It was the seriousness in his tone, you knew he was being genuine. Your eyes welled up with tears, feeling like you just got punched. “Jean, I-”

     “Let me finish y/n. I have always been there for you. Always. Despite the fact that you never got over Eren. Every time he ghosted you, who was there? You know what that’s like? To watch the person you’ve been in love with for years settle for the first asshole who comes her way? Do you have any idea what that does to me? You do realize you’ve been fucking torturing me for the last four years, right?” Your mouth went completely dry, and for the first time since this conversation began, you looked him in the eyes and felt even worse when you saw the glassiness of them. Your breath got shallow as your emotions intensified, your mind racing of all the times you had literally cried on his shoulder, and you thought of how bad he must have been hurting. He kept it to himself for your sake, not wanting you feel upset or worry about him, and you never noticed a thing. Fuck, how could you have been so selfish?

     You didn’t even think about it, your body moving on what felt like autopilot when you grabbed the boy by his collar and pulled him into a kiss. He stiffened, obviously very surprised at your action, before putting his hands on your shoulders and pulling back. His face was a cherry red when he searched your features, shaking his head with a sad expression. “y/n, I don’t want you to do this out of pity. Plus, you’re probably shit-faced right now.” You shook your head and put your hands on his wrists, keeping eye contact with him. “I’m only buzzed Jean, and this isn’t out of pity. A part of me has always loved you. I just have a habit of ruining things in my life and I really didn’t want you to be one of them.” Your eyes got impossibly wetter and a part of you was surprised they hadn’t fallen down your cheeks yet.

     Jean remained silent for what seemed like hours as he examined you expression. His eyes softened and you heart stopped when his hand went to the back of your neck to pull you into another heated kiss. It was a natural reflex the way you gripped onto the front of his shirt, your heart beating at a race you didn’t even know was possible. “Damn, he's a good kisser.” you thought to yourself. You gasped slightly at the feeling of his tongue brushing against your bottom lip. You deepened the kiss and fell back on the bed, pulling him down with you. He pulled away, breathing heavily when a smile grew on his face. “Where are you?” He got up from his position on top and walked to the door, turning the lock with a click. He stalked back to where you were sitting, standing between your legs as he towered over you. “I’ve waited for this for years, I’m not going to wait any longer.”

      Excitement bubbled in your stomach as you looked up at him, a slight pout to your lips. Jean reached his hand down to your face, squeezing both of your cheeks to even further tilt your gaze towards him. “How about it then, pretty girl? Wanna have some fun?” You didn’t hesitate to respond, trying your best to nod in his tight grip. “Yes, please Jean, please.” Although your voice was a little muffled, Jean got the message loud and clear. He gave a soft smile, furthering his hand down to lightly squeeze your throat instead. “Okay then, open wide angel.” You felt a little confused but listened anyway, opening your mouth wide for the boy above you. “What is he gonna-” your thoughts were cut off when you watched, almost in slow motion as Jean leaned over and spit into your open mouth. You froze for a fraction of a second, your mind racing as the excitement grew within you. That’s not what you were expecting but you were not complaining. Jean’s long index finger tilted your chin up, closing your mouth as he kept eye contact with you. “Swallow.” He said in a gentle yet demanding tone, and you knew you couldn’t make yourself say no to him. You swallowed the spit slowly, choosing to keep quiet and wait for his next move.

     “Look at you, such a good girl.” he pushed your body further up the bed so you were laying rather than sitting and once again hovered over you. “Gonna have to thank you for that, huh?” You squeezed your thighs together at his words, anticipation growing impossibly higher. He sat back on his calves, sitting between your legs as he spread them apart around him. His fingers ghosted up your legs, stopping at the hem of your shorts. He didn’t move an inch after that, looking at you expectedly. “Well, I’m waiting? You know all good girls ask nicely, right?” He couldn’t stop the smug expression from taking over even if he tried. You squirmed in his hold, desperate for some sort of contact. “Please Jean, I can’t wait anymore. I need you.” You closed your eyes as you felt him unbutton your shorts, sliding them off with ease along with your panties. “Gotta make sure you’re comfortable baby, tell me if it hurts, kay?” He slowly entered a finger inside you, his thumb circling around your clit slowly. Your lip was pulled in between your teeth as you bit down hard enough to almost draw blood. “Oh, fuck.” He softly laughed at that, going slightly faster to elicit more reactions from you. “That’s right baby, lemme hear you, yeah?” You didn’t hold back, letting out a moan knowing the music blasting outside would drown it out. Jean added another finger and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you had never felt bliss like this before.

     “E-enough Jean.” You let out through strained breaths, and Jean felt himself grow cold for second with fear. Fuck, were you regretting this? “I don’t want to wait anymore, I want you inside me. Please.” Jean’s chest filled with relief as he shook his head at you. “You needy baby, alright, I’ll give you what you want.” Jean pulled his fingers out of you, and stuck them in your mouth with no hesitation. “You sure you ready for me, sweet girl?” He pulled his pants and boxers off, lining himself up with you. You nodded frantically, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss. Jean pushed himself into you, pulling away from the kiss to let out a deep groan as his head fell onto your shoulder. “Fuck, you feel so good around me baby. You’re so good for me, you know that? I’ve wanted this for so long and it’s more than I could have ever imagined.” He ranted on almost senselessly as he was overwhelmed with emotion. “I love you so much, sweet girl. So so much.” You felt tears prick your eyes, from both the pleasure and his sentiment. “I love you Jean, I love you.” those words had more of an affect on him than anything else you said that night, and he felt himself coming close to the edge. “I think I’m gonna-” “Me too baby” he interrupted, placing his hand back on your throat and squeezing. “Cum with me, angel.” His words and the pressure on your neck was enough to send you over, raking your nails down his back leaving marks. He collapsed on top of you, his head resting in your neck as a tired smile rested on his face. You brought your hand up to scratch his scalp, completely fuck-drunk and forgetting of anything else that happened prior to this moment.

     “So that’s why you always open my car door for me, huh?”

✧༺☆༻∞

omg omg im so nervous to post this, not only is it my longest fic but this is the first time i have ever written anything remotely smutty before😳 if its not good pls be patient w me i am very new to this hehe

[taechaos]

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from Textbook Love drabbles

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble(?), smut, college au

synopsis: “She’s too sweet,” Taehyung begins, “too kind, too nice, everything you’re not. You wouldn’t be trying to keep me away from her if you didn’t know that. Are you afraid she’ll like me better?”

warnings: slight angst, arguing, dubcon, mild violence

word count: 4.7k

a/n: ima need yall to submit jk gifs cuz it is taking me TOO long to find a good one 👺 not proofread.

The weekend is fun: students’ two days of temporary rest and catching up on their assignments. Jungkook doesn’t concern himself with the latter, but he does enjoy waking up later in the day and lying down on the grass with his arms crossed under his head, bathing in the sun without any worries. It’s peaceful, thinking thoughts of you with dimmed eyes while the breeze gently wafts past him.

But of course, Taehyung wouldn’t let him just enjoy his day without a hint of irritation. Good things never last anyway. He’s sitting in the middle of the field, a hot spot for relaxation, and feels the soil under his palms while observing his surroundings. Yoongi is with them, munching on a few snacks while scrolling through his phone as it quietly plays music.

“The girl at the party,” Taehyung begins before glancing at Jungkook through his sunglasses, “she was alone when I came back. You weren’t around either; did you cum too soon or something? I saw you two kiss.”

“I left,” Jungkook mumbles without opening his eyes.

“Why?”

“I was bored.”

“And where did you go?” he pries.

“None of your business.”

Taehyung scoffs at his dismissal before averting his gaze elsewhere. “I do have a guess.”

“Don’t start,” Yoongi warns him without looking up. The two best friends usually get into arguments in a matter of seconds daily, and Yoongi just wants to spend his day without having to break up a fight. Just this once, he hopes… but hope doesn’t save him.

“I’m just wondering if you actually went all the way back to campus to fuck another girl, who coincidentally also does your homework.” His tone is cool and collected, but it borders on mocking that usually goes unnoticed. He’s been around these two too long for them to miss, however. Yoongi sighs, dreading the response already.

Jungkook sits up on his elbows with a glare directed towards Taehyung. “How’s your ex holding up, Tae? You think she cheated on another guy yet?”

Neither of the two friends have a filter around them, no consideration for their words as they apathetically insult one another; but Jungkook can go too far, especially by bringing up old wounds. 

Taehyung was in a toxic relationship with his first girlfriend of two years, which took a huge toll on his mindset. Constant infidelity, endless forgiving, make up sex and catching her with another man after: a cycle that went on for over 24 months. The concept of love became tainted in his eyes, no longer interacting with the opposite gender if not to get laid, and Jungkook’s commensalistic - rather parasitic - relationship doesn’t disprove his hateful ideology. Love only consists of two people: a host who provides, and the parasite that selfishly takes it all. 

But he isn’t over the pain that lasted a year after the break up, which was shamelessly executed by the parasite: his former girlfriend. It took a lot of trust to open up about it to his friends, and it lifted a heavy weight off of his chest. Only this year did he stop thinking about her, until Jungkook asked about her so casually. It stings his heart only for a second, and he scoffs as Yoongi intervenes, “Both of you need to shut the fuck up.”

“If you guys want to talk about my relationships, then don’t get all whiny when I talk about yours.”

Taehyung swallows his pride and confidently answers, “I don’t know, Jungkook. I hear she’s doing well, but no information on her boyfriends. Your turn: what’s going on with that nerd?”

“Elaborate.”

“Are you two dating?” Yoongi asks exhaustedly. They just keep taking every opportunity to annoy each other, and it’s even overwhelming him at this point. 

Rolling his neck side to side in thought, Jungkook takes a moment to answer, “No.”

“Bullshit,” Taehyung spits. “You know what? Let’s just move on. I’m sure I could get proper answers from someone else.”

“If you have a death wish, that is,” he warns with a slight seethe before lying back down.

He doesn’t respond and hides a smirk, a couple having a romantic picnic ahead of him from a distance. He watches them for a few seconds before muttering to himself, “It’s not going to be my death.”

Yoongi and Jungkook chill on their own after Taehyung leaves. He’s roaming the campus in hopes of finding that one girl who is always wearing some school skirt and working 24/7 to find out what is so special about her. Jungkook might think he doesn’t notice them interacting, but behind that airhead facade, he’s observant. It’s not that big of a fucking secret either, they’re not deliberately hiding their strangely beneficial friendship or whatever. You stick out like a sore thumb in the yard, though there’s not many people to tell you apart from anyway.

He approaches you rather slowly, inspecting your figure first before meeting you. Your posture is straight and composed, fingers quickly typing away on your keyboard without even looking at them. You look so serious to him, a contrast to the radiant butterflies flying past you in such a bright environment. He wonders if you ever procrastinate or take breaks, and most importantly, how someone that appears so smart has fallen into such an obvious trap set by his best friend of all people. 

His hands are in his pockets as he speaks his first words to you. “Hi, I’m Taehyung.”

Your reaction is instant: a quick look at him and you’re already frowning. “I’m Jungkook’s best friend,” he adds in case you’ve seen him around before. 

“I don’t know you.” And with that distant reply, you return to your essay. If meeting Jimin has taught you anything, it’s that you can’t trust anyone who claims to know your lover. They are just using it against you… 

“Well, shit,” he laughs, “I didn’t realize you were so cold.” Your eyes don’t waver from your screen, so he tries another approach: “Are you the girl Jungkook left the party a few days back for?”

Your ears perk up in his direction, but you don’t show it. But he notices the pause in your taps before you continue typing, and he holds that against you. He takes a seat across from you, and your laptop covers your face from him. “I just wanted to meet the person that’s got him whipped enough to get high and run off to them.” You bite down on a smile and prolong your silence. “I guess I’ll talk to you when you’re not busy.” 

He stands up just as you tell him, “Wait, no, I’m not busy.” You close your laptop mid-way before hesitating, but slam it shut nonetheless. “Sorry.”

“You’re good.” He sits back down and clasps his hands on the table. “So what’s going on between you and him? He refuses to tell me, as if you’re his little secret.”

You shyly look down at your flats and twiddle your fingers on your lap. “We’re together… but he is very mysterious.”

It’s a good thing you don’t glance at him to hide your blush, because he’s a little skeptical. He puckers his lips and furrows his brows but controls his expression when you look up. He mentally curses for taking longer than a few seconds to respond; it’s suspicious. “I know right? I don’t know why he’s so reluctant to talk about you. You’re a total sweetheart.”

Approval from Jungkook’s friend: check. Will he like you more if you get along with his friends? The thought excites you, because at least this is someone he likes, unlike Jimin. “Thank you,” you shy a smile. “Um…”

You’re awkward: not Jungkook’s type, Taehyung notes. You’re obviously the host... “So is this a fling, or are you two serious?”

“We’re serious!” you immediately answer. “I love him, and he recently told me he loves me too. He used to kiss me for doing his homework, but now he does it out of nowhere.”

Wow… romantic. He suppresses a chuckle because he doesn’t want to laugh in your face, not when you’re so cute when you talk about him. Your eyes light up with a gleam, a lovesick smile gracing your face and now desperate to befriend him. You look like him when he was supposedly in love. You’re serious about Jungkook, but for how long? Especially when the other side of the relationship is not so committed. It should be mutual: with two hosts.

“Yeah?” he acts interested and raises his sunglasses up to his hair. “How does he act around you?”

“Well,” you start gushing, “he is a little closed off with his emotions.” True. “He doesn’t like me talking to other guys.” Ooh, interesting. “He can’t stand being ignored,” you chuckle. Can he now? “And… he is so cute when he’s jealous. He has this glare whenever I don’t give him enough attention, but he would never admit it. He likes being intimate with me, likes it when I reassure him. He never says it out loud though, I can just tell by looking at him. I’ve never felt this way for anyone, never fell in love with someone until I met Jungkook. I just want to make him happy because he used to look so sad when I watched him from afar.” A hopeless romantic.

Maybe if you didn’t sound so genuine and innocent, he would’ve made fun of you. But he just feels pity for someone who is so giving to someone who gives back so little. You don’t deserve it; don’t deserve to stay up working on so many assignments; don’t deserve to not have any hobbies; don’t deserve to be so unloved. You are pathetic, but it doesn’t turn him off.

Taehyung is a host too.

He clears his throat at the unexpected stirring emotions in his heart, “What do you love about him? Do you like being treated like shit or something?”

“He doesn’t treat me badly! He is like a light switch, you know? He doesn’t know how to act, sometimes sweet and sometimes… a little mean. I love him for his pure heart, and I believe that we are similar in a lot of ways.”

Taehyung can’t contain his snort. Similar? You are opposites. You are similar to him, not Jungkook. He feels… jealous. The pairing is just so ridiculous and flawed, but you’re neither of the two; you are just good. Taehyung can be good too. “So, what’s your Instagram user?”

The lack of commentary and escalation of the topic catches you off guard. It’s a distraction. “I don’t have an account,” you reply in confusion.

“Wow, I’d expect you to cyberstalk Jungkook on there,” he jokes with a laugh.

“He has an Instagram?”

He purses his lips, his grin faltering as he nods. He takes out his phone from his pocket to show you the account, and holds it in your face. Your lips part as you gently take it from him, curiously inspecting the collage of images. 

“He plays the guitar?” you ask in awe. You click on each picture to zoom in on them, and your heart jumps upon seeing his selfies while Taehyung hums. He is gorgeous in your eyes, and you want to keep up with his posts in hopes of seeing another selfie. These are hidden gems that Taehyung had the courtesy of providing to you.

“He’s learning,” Taehyung says, “you should sign up and post some pictures as well. You’re really cute.” His cheeky compliment makes you happy; he is basically giving you his blessing! 

“Thank you, and you’re right,” you chirp, “I will make an account after I finish this essay. Want to take a picture with me?”

It’s safe to assume that Jungkook wouldn’t mind you talking to his best friend, so why not expand your social circle? You’ll be more involved with his life this way. Taehyung stammers slightly before agreeing. He switches benches to sit next to you while you rummage through your backpack to find your phone. He finds it strangely endearing how you hold it, using your index finger to swipe between apps to find the camera. It almost stings his heart that you’re so old-schooled in a cute way. Once you angle it above you with your arm stretched out to your left, Taehyung appears to be behind you as he lowers his glasses. You smile brightly into the lens while he cutely puckers his lips. 

Click.

“Are you wearing perfume?” he asks before he can stop himself. Your scent tickles his nostrils sweetly, and he doesn’t know why he’s noticing so much about you or holding a conversation with a woman without being naked. It’s been a hot minute since Taehyung’s had such a platonic interaction, and it shouldn’t feel this nice. He shouldn’t want to continue it through social media either.

“Yes! Do you smell strawberries? I noticed Jungkook eating them before, so I use just about anything strawberry scented. Lotion, shampoo, shower gel…”

He tunes you out as you gush and focuses on the smooth movement of your lips. You’re too good, and Taehyung knows he isn’t the best person but at least he’s not as bad as Jungkook. I shouldn’t think like this… but am I wrong? He will break your heart. What if it’s the right time to intervene to save you from that misery, and be a friend to both of you? He doesn’t want you to fall apart and be completely crushed right in front of his eyes, not when he just witnessed how childishly happy and naive you are. It wouldn’t be fair to you, nor to the life lesson he was taught years ago.

And he then notices that you're wearing strawberry lip balm. 

“Jungkook kis-” -sed someone else before coming to you. You hum and tilt your head at his interruption, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “Jungkook… does love strawberries.”

Though your work ethics are questionable for how exhausting they are, it gets the job done sooner. The moment you’re assigned a task, you do it, regardless of if it’s yours or Jungkook's. Saturday evening and Sunday are free for you, so you spend your time outside after leaving your backpack in your dorm. You think you look silly, taking pictures of anything you find interesting to post on Instagram. You made an account, but it appears like a bot with its empty feed. Jungkook enjoys doing this, so you want to try it as well. 

You don’t stray far from campus because you’d easily get lost, and your gallery looks boring to you. The only decent photo you have is with Taehyung, but you want to post a picture with Jungkook before anyone else. You grumble under your breath while walking back to the dormitory building. You look through Jungkook’s posts again as you do so with a smile. 

A heavy arm slings over your shoulder and hitches your breath just as the culprit says, “What’s the rush?” He doesn’t even look at you, and you wonder if he recognized you from your clothes after coming up from behind you. 

“Jungkookie!” you cheer excitedly. He glances at you and quirks a brow at the nickname. His eyes then trail to your lit up phone and snatches it from you, which you don’t fight against.

“You’re stalking me?” He scrolls through his profile from your phone and smirks before stating, “I didn’t know you had an Insta.” The both of you enter the building with his arm still wrapped around you, which flutters your heart.

“I made one today, since you use it.” He exits his profile to look at yours. You’re in the elevator as you inform, “Taehyung told me.”

A pause, then a click. Jungkook snapped a photo of you when you pressed the button of your floor. “Pretty,” he comments while looking at your candid shot. You’re flattered and also happy that he’s joining your trip to your dorm. He hasn’t said a word of protest and takes the lead in going to your room. “What else?”

“Hm?”

“What else did he tell you?”

You rack your brain to remember anything significant to tell him. It was a long conversation: getting to know each other and more about Jungkook. “He told me you have an Instagram, then asked for my perfume, and then we talked about your love for strawberries-”

“Your perfume? Why was Instagram even brought up?” he presses, stopping in front of your door. 

You take out your keycard and shrug while swiping, “He asked for mine.”

The dorm is empty when you enter and sit on the edge of your bed. It’s very hard to not grin when you’re around Jungkook, but he doesn’t seem to care as he looks through your gallery. “Can we take a picture together?” you peep hopefully. 

“Of course,” he murmurs absentmindedly, intently staring at your phone. “We’ll take many pictures,” he looks up at you before leveling with the camera, “pose.”

You aren’t very educated on the art of posing per se, so you imitate the peace sign you saw him do with a wide smile and a hand on the bed. He is neutral when he snaps a picture with a shutter. 

“I want you to be in it.”

He drags his eyes away from the screen and his blank expression intimidates you. “Whose idea was it for you to make an account?”

“Um… Taehyung, why?” You lay your hands on your lap at the growing tension.

Taehyung went to this extent to get a reaction out of him? Is it possible that he’s this obnoxious? Or perhaps another motive…?

“I-Is he not your friend?”

Jungkook breaks his silence of thoughts with a scoff, “Oh, only the best.” You sigh in relief, though he says it with menace. Taehyung was curious about his relationship, not about your social media. He forcefully pushes you down on the bed and you hold back a gasp as he wraps his finger around your neck in a light chokehold with a thumb on your nether lip. Click. He then lowers his hand to your thigh, hiding half of it under your skirt with a gentle grap. Click.

Your cheeks flush at the compromising photos he’s taking and you nervously ask, “A-Am I going to post these?”

“Shut up.”

You seal your lips shut and he flips you on your stomach, palming your covered ass with your side profile in the frame, and another shutter resounds in the room. “Sit up.” You follow his command and turn around to face him. He pushes your hair to your back and his mouth latches onto your neck. He’s biting you while sucking on your flesh, and you release a breathy moan at the feeling of his tongue swirling on the sensitive skin. It hurts, but you don’t complain and try to make sense of the growing arousal in your lower region. He only pulls away after half a minute and you��re confused by the satisfied smirk on his face while eyeing the result. He angles your jaw to expose your neck better and snaps another photo. “These are all going on your account.”

At your nod of submission, he starts unbuttoning your shirt. “You’re prettier with a mark. My mark.” Your body tingles at the compliment and you help him undress yourself by unbuttoning the ends. “Take off your skirt,” he demands as he slips off his shirt with ease. All of your clothes go off one by one as he does the same, and you don’t have the time to feel shy as his lips collide so roughly with yours that you’re pressed down against the mattress again. You still haven’t gotten the hang of making out, but it doesn’t matter with Jungkook because although it flows naturally, he also takes complete control over you. He’s not gentle, not with the way his teeth clash against yours and tongue leaving trails of saliva all over your mouth. Your toes curl with desire and anticipation, and you tug at his briefs that outline his erection. The feeling of his warm breath on you silences all your thoughts and you can only react on primal instincts. 

His crotch brushes against your bare folds, slick with your leaking wetness. Kissing him this passionately always leaves you feeling needy, and it embarrasses you that you get turned on so easily. But you don’t realize that is his intention as he glides his fingers all over your labia, making sure you’re ready to take all of him. 

Kissing you this passionately always leaves him feeling horny, and it’s apparent with his cock begging to be taken out of the restraints of his underwear. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing, but your lips are numb when he pulls away to position himself in your entrance. He doesn’t prepare you, but he doesn’t rush himself either as he painfully slowly enters you. You hold your breath and gawn on your swollen lip, moans catching in your throat and leaving as high-pitched hums. He sighs at the feeling of your pulsating walls. “God… always so tight. Don’t you ever touch yourself?”

He bottoms out and you whimper shakily at how full you are. The fact that he fits you like a puzzle piece convinces you that he’s your forever, your meant to be. Even with your lack of experience with other men, you believe no one can make you feel this dreamy. And to think he’s all yours now… “I-I don’t. I only want to do it with you.”

The atmosphere is so fragile, so romantic. It’s not your delusion this time, because he feels it too and it makes his heartbeat sync with yours: unsteady and rapid. And in the heat of the moment, he reveals, “I think I’m in love with you.”

A whine leaves you, so loud that it can’t be achieved with touch but with his words. It’s the utmost pleasure, and when he realizes what he said, he sets a rushed pace to distract himself from the embarrassment of pouring his feelings. You don’t allow him to forget as you echo, “I’m in love with you too.”

“No, no,” he denies with a shake of his head and it emits more love confessions out of you in a chain of ‘I love you’s, and he grunts, “Stop. Shut up!” He pins your forearms on either side of your head in a bruisening grip and thrusts into you harder. You have no choice but to scream in pleasure, unable to form coherent words when he’s practically fucking your brains out. 

His feelings of humiliation translate to his actions: he pushes himself down to the hilt, throbbing with lust but doesn’t chase his high. He doesn’t want you to talk, not when he’s blushing for more than one reason, so he ignores the contraction of his muscles and just fucks you until he can’t anymore, hypnotized by the bounce of your tits.

Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s so desperate, hitting your most sensitive spot with every thrust and making your eyes screw back. Neither of you can think, so loud and reckless until you reach your climax. It’s core shaking, as you cry out his name and tremble with stimulation. He’s never seen this expression on your face, one so twisted in pleasure and looking so erotic. It comes as a surprise and in the form of a punch in the gut as he savours your appearance before cumming inside you with a groan. A slip-up, a mistake, but he doesn’t care as he paints your walls in white, his load filling you up.

And he can’t regret it when he pulls out, because the drizzle of his cum spilling out of your pussy easily becomes his favorite sight. “Shit,” he whispers as more and more drips while you twitch and spasm from your orgasm. You don’t even realize what he’s done, and that makes his chest swell with pride; the most level-headed woman he knows is leaking with his release and stupidly doesn’t spare it a thought. And with that hickey on your neck? “You look fucking gorgeous,” he exhales. A bashful smile stretches across your face with eyes still tightly shut, and you don’t notice him grab your phone on the other side of the bed to take a picture of your stained pussy. 

“This one is for me,” he mutters to himself. Click.

After posting the softcore photos on your account and tagging himself in them, as well as a note of a pharmacy’s address across campus with a label written for you to get two separate contraceptives as an emergency and for your next creampie, he leaves your dorm. You fell asleep on him, and though he had wanted to join you, he decided to collect his scrambled thoughts and go to Taehyung’s dorm first. He isn’t livid, but he has a few questions to ask.

He’s playing cards with Yoongi, Taehyung’s roommate, as he patiently waits for his arrival. “What’s wrong about asking for her Instagram, though?” Yoongi asks before drawing out a card of ace. “Isn’t she our friend by association anyway?”

“It’s suspicious,” Jungkook murmurs while inspecting his deck. “Have you ever seen Taehyung with a girl before? As friends? He’s clearly trying to fuck her.”

Yoongi stifles a laugh, “That’s a reach. Besides, you two have shared a girl before. Are you actually dating her?”

Shuffling is heard behind the door until it swings open as Taehyung enters. “Kookie! What are you doing here?” He throws his keycard on his bed before hopping on Yoongi’s to watch their game.

It’s strained, Jungkook notices. His excitement is forced; why? “I came here for you,” he states bluntly. “A little birdie told me you’ve been talking to someone who belongs to me.”

“I didn’t realize she was your diary,” he tries to lighten the mood with a joke. “What’s the deal anyway? You said you weren’t dating her.”

Yoongi collects the deck of cards after Jungkook drops them, and shuffles them while eavesdropping. He’s sitting cross-legged across from Jungkook, and Taehyung is sitting on the edge of the bed next to him with his body turned sideways.

“I also said that unless you have a death wish, don’t talk to her,” he grits. “And asking for her social media? Are you into her now?”

Taehyung merely shrugs. “I thought she was pretty chill. I don’t know why you’re so mad.”

“She obviously means something to him, so I think you should just respect that, Taehyung,” Yoongi voices his thoughts while leafing the cards. Jungkook looks to the side and pokes the inner cheek of his mouth with his tongue but doesn’t argue.

“I think he’s just using her.” Jungkook’s reaction is instant as Taehyung’s nose instantly starts to bleed from the impact of his fist. Yoongi doesn’t look up. He holds a hand over his injury with a hiss and continues, “Really, Kook? A little too much, don’t you think?”

“Less than enough,” Jungkook fumes, “I like her, and she likes me. Just fucking leave it at that.”

“Couple of the year,” Taehyung chuckles mockingly, “I give it two days.” He stands up before Jungkook can hit him again. “Can’t wait to console her after your break-up, maybe she’ll fall in love with me next.”

Jungkook starts chasing him around the room as Taehyung runs without stopping his provocation. “Why so upset Jungkook? Do you see it happening too? I’m already imagining how tight-”

“You should leave, Jungkook.” Neither of them listen to Yoongi, so he yells, “Jungkook, leave!”

A moment of deafening silence passes as both of them pause to catch their breaths. “She’s too sweet,” Taehyung begins, “too kind, too nice, everything you’re not. You wouldn’t be trying to keep me away from her if you didn’t know that. Are you afraid she’ll like me better?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jungkook spits with a heaving chest. “She’s loyal to me, but I’m sure you’re not familiar with that concept. No wonder your relationships only last one night.” With a final glare, he leaves as told to return to you. The only thing he needs right now is one more ‘I love you’ from you, as much as he hates it. Maybe he’s cruel, but he doesn’t know anyone who isn’t aside from you. 

Maybe Taehyung is just as cruel, fantasizing about all the ways he could be better for you before drifting off to sleep with a bandage over his wounded nose. He can just be a friend to both of you… he can be good too… 

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

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[justkending]

Moral of The Story. Chapter One.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of an old love all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Ok, here is the first chapter! If you have not already listened to the song that evoked this idea from my imagination land, I suggest giving it a go! Moral of the Story by Ashe. I’m excited for you guys to see what this story brings and I really hope I do it justice! As always, comments and thoughts are welcome as they help me grow as a writer and let me see what you guys notice:) ENJOY MY LOVES!!! <3

(The posting will be once every other day until I have finished the series. If I finish early, I will post an update once a day:)

Read the Prologue here first!

Chapter One:

"You already got the flight?" Nat asked, perched on Y/N's couch as she ran around frantically packing. "Don't you have a huge meeting next week with that new business? What was it called? Bee's Knees?"

"Yes, but it's not until Monday evening. I highly doubt I will be there longer than a weekend to sign a few divorce papers. I'm planning on coming back early that afternoon, so I shouldn't miss it," she answered, not even stopping to look at her as she ran through the rooms and bathroom in the apartment.

"How soon did you book that flight?"

"As soon as I hung up the phone with Murdock," Y/N sighed. Nat sent her a questioning look not knowing that name. "New lawyer. The guy who took over for the sleazeball known as Justin Hammer," she rolled her eyes.

"Right," Nat nodded. "So, are you staying at your dad's house?"

"I would take my dad's house over my mom and Jerry's any day. You know this," Y/N paused in her actions, sending her a bitch face.

"I know. Just didn't know if you'd be all fancy and rent a hotel room to escape the smothering that is bound to happen from good ol' Mr. Y/L/N," Nat grinned.

"It's been so long since I've seen him not via facetime. And we both know that's barely seeing him as he doesn't know where the camera is even after a hundred calls," she laughed.

"Parents. Either they're technologically challenged or know how to work it better than us. Never in between and it's weird." Nat watched as Y/N froze in her stance and looked lost trying to think of something else to pack. Deciding she needed a distraction, Nat changed the subject some. "Hey, did you get Melody to go on that date tomorrow?"

"Yes!" Y/N answered proudly. "I know your aunt wants grandbabies from her daughter, but that girl just needs a night on the town more than anything. She's in her early 20's and holes herself up at the office almost more than I do, and I'm the boss."

"Cousin's got my work ethic. What can I say?" Nat shrugged smugly.

"Well, she needs to get your spirit in living some too."

"Touche," Nat pointed. "I need to have Yelena take her out. She's the real party sister out of us two."

"That is true. How she's able to party for 48 hours straight and still wake up at 8 am for mimosas, blows my mind," Y/N commented on Natasha's younger sister. "She's only a few years older than Melody, right?"

"Yeah, Yelena is 24, and Melody is 22. They were best of friends growing up, but once they got to high school, they kinda went different routes about life. Lana, the party gal, and Mel the studious bookworm."

"I'm not surprised by either of those," Y/N shook her head before collapsing next to Nat on the couch. A loud breath and sigh escaped her body.

Nat watched as her mind escaped back to the original issue at hand.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Y/N/N?" she said, softly touching her shoulder. "Not that I don't already know, but maybe letting it out will help unscramble those thoughts."

Y/N lazily rolled her head to the redhead next to her.

"How is he?" she asked.

Nat was a part of their friend group from middle school through high school. She kept up with all of them still, whereas Y/N kept up with all of them except one.

"I actually haven't talked to him in a while. Steve on the other hand..." Nat nodded. "From that source, it sounds like Barnes is just as surprised and freaked out as you."

"He's freaked out?" Y/N asked, a hint of interest peeking out.

"Who wouldn't be? You get a call from a lawyer saying your marriage is still intact after 9 years of breaking it off, I would be freaked out too."

"He deserves it. I hope he's just as freaked out as me, if not more," she responded bitterly, crossing her arms across her chest like a pouting child.

"Y/N," Nat sighed.

"No. Don't. Don't defend him to me, it's pointless," she put up a hand. "I know you're still friends with him, but you guys still don't understand the pain that that man brought on me."

"He fought for you, Y/N. He didn't mean-," Nat countered.

"Again, you're wasting your breath. Defending him now does nothing to change the past," she said stubbornly, getting back up and carrying on with her packing. "You can still take me to the airport tomorrow, right?"

Her best friend wanted to keep pushing, knowing she had harbored this heartbreak for too long. Sure what had happened between them sucked and was a horrible chapter of their lives, but neither made an effort to talk it out and understand the other's side of the story. Faults of being young, immature, and not knowing how to handle a grown-up decision.

"Yes, I'll pick you up at work at 10. Flights at 11:25, right?"

"Yes, and you know California traffic. That will probably get me there 10 minutes before my gate closes. I had to get an early flight though because that time difference is going to kick my ass. It'll be close to 5:30 in my head and 8:30 there by the time I land... " Y/N huffed, rolling her bag to the front door for tomorrow. "You mind taking this tonight and keeping it in your car for now? That way I don't have to lug it to work?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll grab it on my way out. But we're still having a girl's night, right?"

Y/N laughed some before going to the kitchen to grab beers. "I Survived is already recorded and ready for us."

___________________

"Shit man... When's the last time you talked to her?" Steve asked, sitting across from his best friend in the chair diagonal from the couch, leaning forward on his knees after listening to the new news.

"Since I was supposedly signing our divorce papers. And even then, we didn't really talk. She sat there quietly straight-faced until it was signed and then rushed out the doors," Bucky sighed, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "She was out of the state within the next hour."

Steve nodded before falling back into the single seat.

"So, do you guys have to see each other again, or is it one of those situations where you can sign separately?"

"I don't know. I just got off the phone. All I know up to this second is that Y/N and I have been married for the past 9 years without knowing it," Bucky said somewhat harshly. Steve didn't flinch at the tone knowing it wasn't directed at him. "I'm sorry. I-I just can't wrap my mind around this."

"It's ok. This is crazy shit, Buck," Steve waved off. There was a long pause before Steve decided to ask the question he was sure anyone would want to know. "Do you want to see her?"

Bucky slowly looked over to the blonde. God, he had been asking himself that question for the past 10 minutes himself.

On one end, yes. He wondered where she was now in life. How she was doing. What accomplishments he knew she would be making. He knew a few small things just by the whispers and small talk of her with their shared friend group that he still hung out with, but a majority of the time, they didn't bring her up around him. They knew what it did to him.

On the other end, he never thought about facing her again. I mean maybe for the year after their divorce, but when he never heard anything back from her all those times he still tried to reach out and she blocked him on almost all forms of social media, he gave up any hope of them falling back into good terms again. He hated it, but he wasn't going to push her when she clearly hated his guts.

And honestly, he deserved it. His young, stupid, college self was not a smart guy when it came to relationships. Even ones that had been there from the beginning of time practically.

Yet again, she wasn't perfect either. She made some mistakes of her own that pushed him to act the way he had.

"Hey, you both are older and more mature now. I'm sure you if you guys do have to see each other again, you can handle it like adults," Steve reassured, seeing Bucky's face turn to a soft frown. "Ok, so she may be a little stubborn..."

"A little?"

"Ok, a lot. But she's older now. She's not the 19-year-old girl that you remember," Steve defended.

"I believe that but I'm sure she still holds a grudge that is very, very, very, very-," Bucky was going to go on about 10 more very's before ending with BIG, but Steve cut him off.

"You don't know that," Steve shook his head.

"Really? Because usually when you no longer hold a grudge against someone, you might just reach out to that person and reconnect possibly," Bucky argued. "I mean that's what mature people do, right?"

"Not always..."

"So she's either not mature or still just as stubborn. Hell, for all we know, both," Bucky shrugged, pursing his lips.

"If you go into this with that mindset, nothing good is going to come out of it." Steve pointed an eyebrow at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes not replying to Steve. He knew he was right, but he was still bitter after all these years about how Y/N handled the situation. Sure, he messed up, but she had to. Yet she made him into this big bad wolf that was at 100% fault in the downfall of their relationship. It made him feel like shit, and though he tried to make amends knowing he did some fucked up things, she acted like she was Miss Perfect and didn't do anything wrong the entire time.

Damn, even after all this time, it still lit a fire in his chest with annoyance and hurt.

"When's the meeting?" Steve once again interrupted his thoughts.

"I guess Saturday morning. They said they were coming in on their off hours to fix up a few cases they found like ours," Bucky answered.

"How many cases were there?"

"Eh, I think he said it was single digits, but there were a shit ton of other cases in different areas that were worse off. The divorce ones are a small number compared to those."

"Damn. That sucks for all the couples who got a call today then," Steve huffed, running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, you're telling me..."

"Hey, we were going out with Wanda and Vis tonight. You still up for that, or...?" Steve stood up.

Bucky looked back at the beer on the coffee table and then at the TV still playing I Survived stories quietly in the background.

"You know what? I'm going to need a stronger drink than an IPA to get me to sleep tonight," Bucky nodded, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans before walking to his room.

"Looks like I'm the DD tonight then..." Steve sighed.

___________

"Vis," Wanda motioned to her fiance as he came back from the bar. "Nat just texted."

"About what? How is she?" Vis smiled as he sat next to her with Sam across from him. Sam tagged along at the last second since his other plans got canceled.

"She's good, but it's not about her," Wanda waved off, still reading whatever lengthy text was sent her way.

"Wow, that looks like a novel," Vis noticed with wide eyes as he looked over her shoulder.

"Wait 'til you hear what it's about." 

Sam shook his head as he took a sip of the beer Vis had brought over.

After reading the rest of the text out loud from where she had left off, everyone at the table looked at each other with shock ridden faces.

"They're still married?" Vis said softly as if it was a secret.

"Apparently..." Wanda nodded with wide eyes.

"So that Hammer guy was a sham?" Sam questioned.

"I told her not to go to him. He had some shady hole in the wall kind of establishment," Wanda chided. "But she said they needed something cheap and fast. She hated his guts and wanted it out of it then and there. Plus, they were 19. They didn't have much money anyway."

"Why didn't they just ask their parents for help?" Sam questioned. "Isn't Y/N's mom loaded?"

"Yes, but she refused to help her. She said it was her own fault for getting married so young and that she had warned her. Told her she had to get out of the mess on her own," Wanda answered.

"What about her dad?" Vis jumped in.

"Bucky and her dad were close. She was off in Colorado for school and didn't want to put her dad through that or make him have to help her in cutting him off. Bucky was like the son he never had and they were bonded at the hip. No matter how much Y/N hated Bucky, she wasn't going to ruin or take away his relationship with her father. That would have been cruel, and Y/N is anything but that."

"Weren't Bucky's and Y/N's dad's best friends?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, they were old-time war buddies. They're the reason Bucky and Y/N had known each other since birth. But Bucky's dad died when he was about 13, and Y/N's dad, Thomas, kinda took him under his wing. Growing up a teenage boy without a father figure messes with you, and Bucky was on the edge of a bad path after losing his father."

"He's still rather close with Thomas, but I'm sure Y/N doesn't know that. Unless Thomas has said something, and with how everything came to an end for the two, I'm sure he doesn't bring it up knowing how tender of a subject Bucky is to her," Vis added.

"Makes sense..." Sam nodded. "I only knew you all from the start of college, so I'm still a little lost in all the beginning stuff."

"All good. It's complicated with those two. Their past and upbringing are so interconnected with the other, it makes their downfall all the more intense and messy," Wanda sighed. "God, if this is the news, he's going to be a wreck tonight..." She looked up worriedly at her fiance who shared the same concerns.

"It could go two ways. Either he comes in all solemn and says three words all night, or Steve's going to be the DD and he's waking up with a head-busting hangover," Sam noted with a small grin at the thought. "I'm going to go with the latter though."

"Poor guy," Wanda sighed, taking a drink with a sad face. Ever the sympathetic one.

"We'll be here to listen if he wants to talk. If not, we act like we have no idea and don't bring it up," Vision spoke up, throwing his arm over her and running his hand up and down her shoulder.

"I'm going to tease him still most likely," Sam shrugged nonchalantly. Wanda sent him a warning glare. "Fine, mama bear! I'll be nice... Until he starts making a fool of himself." He added the last part quietly.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555  @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @pham-tastical

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk​ @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia

[poisonousquinzel]

https://lady-ha-ha.tumblr.com/post/160715688748/is-that-comic-before-the-reboot-and-which-one-is

(I have not read this comic) Is this true? (if so, ivy deserves someone better).

Post

Kay, first off both of those people are Jarley shippers so take everything they say with a grain of salt and then some, cause no. that part isn't about how much Harley loves Joker and will always choose him over Ivy. Literally you can tell ops don't know what they're talking about cause her whole thing in those issues is going to kill him for years of graphic abuse but ultimately falls back with him once she’s face to face with him.

Like wow, congrats on missing the fucking point again but not surprised from people who ship her with The Fucking Joker.

also, ffs, can anyone please have basic comprehension skills and realize that Harley and Ivy are both fucked up sometimes because they’ve got issues and that’s not comparable to Joker’s long ass history of graphic and disgusting abuse.

Harley and Ivy are villains, they're not a wholesome cookie cutter, White Picket Fence, super vanilla ship with no bad moments. They're both bad guys with a fuck ton of trauma that they both have to work through, and have done so at this point. 

Gotham City Sirens was published between 2009 - 2011, Harley and Ivy weren't blatantly romantic at this point nor had they had anywhere near the development that they’ve had at this point.

Like don’t go into Harlivy content expecting them to be the perfect wlw rep with no flaws during their arcs from BTAS to current time cause that’s just not realistic. They’re both deeply flawed people who’ve got a fuck ton of trauma that they need to (and have) worked through. 

I have talked about the BTAS issues here and this post is good at explaining them too. 

X

X

Harlivy is not and has never been a purely wholesome, goody-goody ship. They’re messy, they have issues, and they have bad moments sometimes, but they both worked through their seperate trauma and came out stronger and better because at the end of the day, they care about each other. 

Harlivy has messy, toxic moments sometimes, but they’re not, and have never been, abusive. There’s a difference between unhealthy moments and a ship being abusive. 

That’s completely different to how Joker acts Constantly, because he does not care that his actions towards Harley are abusive, because he doesn’t give a shit about her. 

He enjoys hurting her. He enjoys ruining her. 

Jarley has always been intended to be written and shown as a domestically abusive relationship.

This is also the first instance where it's directly referenced that there's something more than platonic between her and Ivy, other than the reference in Batgirl Adventures. 

Gotham City Sirens is also not connected to any verses.

This didn’t happen in the timeline we’re in rn with Harley Quinn (2014)/(2016)/(2021).

Comic timelines and shit are stupid and make everything more confusing and awful and I hate it sdfjdksksdkjsd

-

this is gonna be a long post since ops wanna just cut and paste random bits of the issues like jarley stans always do (cause jarley never has good moments that aren’t entirely surrounded by him abusing her) I’m going to show them in full context. *added a keep reading cause it is a lot

(All panels shown are from #15, #18, #19, #20, #21, #23, #24, #25)

So, Harley's entire thing at this point in the GCS comic in that she's been triggered by flashbacks of Joker's abuse and she breaks into Arkham with the intent to kill him.

The entire thing in these issues is showing her smarts and how she knows people's trump cards to get under their skin so she can break into Arkham. 

She’s trained to identify these things in people and she's fucking good at pushing people's buttons. 

this is also just one of my fav Harley covers so I wanted to show it jsdjksdks

“Trump cards. Everyone has one. Places where the armor we build around ourselves is weakest.” 

She’s right. And it’s now shown that Harley’s willing to use those below the belt trump cards if she has to.  

And frankly, I’d say this is worse than what she says to Ivy. And I’m not surprised she did it. She didn’t want to, she tried to get him to just open the door - 

“Don’t make me do this, Aaron. There are some secrets that should stay hidden. Things you should never learn about your own life.” 

but she’s also entirely fueled by rage and the desire to kill Joker. She came here for a reason and she’s not leaving until she’s done it.

“I’m going to kill you. For everything you’ve done to me. All the times you’ve made me feel useless and small. For all the times I will never forget. For all the things I can never forgive. All the memories -”

“Hello, Harley. I’ve missed you.” 

“Memories. That’s all I have left. The past is gone and all I have is... memories. 

Memories.

Memory. 

Gone.

I guess I too have a trump card.”

“Oh, Ivy. You know exactly what my answer is going to be. But you’re hoping you’re wrong, aren’t you?”

She’s also right about this, they already mentioned this in #18.

“How did I become the bad guy?”

“You’re the one choosing a man over her girls.”

“Are you kidding me? You would never say that to Harley, and we both know she’d dumb us in a flat second if Joker called her.”

“Hey! That’s not fair-- Actually, that’s probably true.”

“The difference is, she can’t help it. You can. And she’s working on it. You’re not working on it.” 

“Too easy, Ivy. Too easy. I know your weak spots. Now I just need to push.”

This is exactly what she’s been doing since the starting point of this post. She’s still in that mindset and she knows she can’t beat her on a regular battle field. Neither of them can. 

“Like I said-- You beat me in any level playing field. But I don’t fight on those fields.” 

Harley’s biggest strength as a villain is her ability to completely mentally stall her opponents and learn their weak spots. She wouldn’t win against the majority of the Big Bads if she didn’t fight on a different field than they are. 

so, like yeah, out of context what she says to Ivy seems awful and completely screwed up, and it is, but it’s also built up really well and it’s completely in character for her at this point in her fall during these issues. 

Is what she did fucked? absolutely. It’s not painted that it’s not. 

Ivy Literally Goes To Kill Her For It.

In the end of this all three of them are recaptured by Catwoman and Batman and that’s where we’re starting off at again. 

“Oh, Harley.

The only human I’ve ever called a friend.

To what lengths will I go? Where are my own limits? She is the Strangler fig. And I am the tree, choking underneath. 

Without me, she could never grow. 

But without her, I would fall if I grew too tall.” 

“Will she ever stand by herself? 

Will she ever be ready? 

She is in throes of madness. She sees him, her brain flooding with adrenaline, it makes her excited, nervous, then the feelings start to fade, and she needs more. And more. 

She sees it as passion. She sees it as love. 

But it’s not. It’s addiction. And she’s relapsing.” 

Ivy is well aware of the nature of their relationship. She’s not stupid and she’s been shown already to know that it’s something that takes time. It’s not a one off break up and it’s over. That’s not how abusve relationships work. 

What do I do?

I could use my pheromones to alter her brain chemistry.

I could leave her behind abandoning her to the wilds of her own mind.

I could kill her right now.

Show her how red Nature can be.

There's one other option.

It would require patience.

Even love.

Maybe I'm more human than I want to admit.

"You have one chance to answer this."

I know, if she agrees, she'll be doing it for revenge. For him.

"She put us behind bars."

But maybe if I get away from this place, if I give her something else to think about. Maybe she can break the cycle. But it has to be her choice.

"I'm going to kill her. Come with me."

So yeah, it’s definitely not a just “Harley hurts her and runs off with Joker and it’s just a plain ol’ her choosing him over everyone and that’s that.” 

Jarley shippers love to just reduce all her scenes and arcs down to their “epic love” and shit, but that’s taking away literally everything about her and reducing it down to the 3 panels that they’re “cute” in. Her arc in this part is fucking heartbreaking to read.

And Ivy damn well knows what’s going on with her. She’s smart and she’s the one that’s been there throughout all of this. She found her in the park after he shot her out of a rocket. 

And she knows it’ll take time for Harley to get over and through his manipulation, that’s just how it works with abusive relationships. 

But she’s also not forgiving at first, she’s mad and rightfully so, until she sees the sate of Harley’s cell and realizes how bad her addiction is at that time.

A lot of the unhealthy moments on Harley’s side when it comes to them are directly caused from the effects of being in an abusive relationship with Joker. Because she’s always in this area of her journey in those moments. She’s never fully over him or emancipated. 

And that’s realistic. It’s hard sometimes to be friends with someone who’s in abusive relationships like theirs, having to watch them return to that person time and time again and it’s frustrating after a while. 

I know from personal experience, it’s really hard to watch someone you care about go back or forgive someone that continues to hurt them. 

But abuse victims desperately need a support system outside of their abuser. It’s a crucial part of being able to escape, because when they do try to get out they need someone there or they’ll literally have no where to go but back into their abuser’s arms.

It’s heartbreaking and it’s really rough for everyone effected, but that’s just how it is most of the time. Especially in their case, as they’re not just regular folk dealing with this. 

If she doesn’t have Ivy, Harley has no one else to go to but Joker, on more than just an emotional level. 

She’s lost her job. Her income. Her home. Her livelihood. Her everything.

Most of the time she has no other choice but to return to a life of crime after she’s released from Arkham because she can’t get a job, she’s a notorious criminal and she’s got a lot of issues that don’t just disappear with a bit of therapy. 

She has no other choice but to return to Joker because the other alternative is the streets. At least she knows what to expect with him. 

And that’s not even getting into the manipulation, gaslighting and degrading abuse that he drills into her constantly. 

He’s made her believe she’s not anything without him. That she’s not smart or useful or anything. 

And that’s why it’s so damn important for her to have a support system and why he’s so damn against Ivy. 

Because Ivy is the good voice on her shoulder telling her he’s wrong and that she doesn’t deserve that. 

-

And on Ivy’s side, she’s aware she gets very near cutting off all parts of her humanity. 

She’s a plant goddess, she’s insanely powerful and she feels everything through the green. Frankly, she’s not even on the same playing field as these villains. She’s significanty more powerful than Harley and Joker. 

Her connection to Harley is what keeps her humanity in tack, because despite everything, she does care about her. She was the first person she let in, the first person Ivy called a friend. 

The person that was able to get through to her in #14/#15 when she was losing herself. The one that was able to get through to her that the dude was manipulating her. 

“Ivy, I know you think you love this guy... but you’re just gonna end up strapped to his rocket!”

She had to knock her out for the dude to trust her / not attack them anymore. But Harley got through to her by mentioning how they first met in the park when she saved her after Joker shot her off in a rocket.

And Ivy is understandable turned off towards humans considering her origin and trauma around that. 

She’s got a lot of trust issues.

But both of them work through their seperate traumas over the years because their affection for each other is stronger than the issues their trauma has given them.

-

and also, sometimes, they just have shit writers. that’s an issue overall in comic fandoms. Some writers just fucking suck at getting any of the characters right, let alone LGBT characters, who’re notoriously treated like garbage by DC. 

[missymurphy1985]

Bella Italia Part 2

Part 1

Three years have passed since your internship at the university in Rome with your father. You're about to embark on your dream career as a concert pianist, when a blast from the past knocks you sideways.

Warning - smut / cheating / language

Features Jim from the Delinquent Season

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers

You embraced your parents as you came off stage, beaming. You had just given your debut performance at Dublin's biggest theatre, the first since you graduated with first class honours from the University of Durham in England, to a standing ovation from the crowd. Your father quickly enveloping you in a hug, kissing your cheek, telling you how proud he was of you.

A few of the other performers were waiting off the wings, there was to be a Q&A with some press people and concert attendees after the show and you were expected on the panel. You squeezed your mum's hand and went to freshen up.

Sitting in your seat, you looked out the small crowd - cameras clicking and reporters waiting, you felt a bit like a film star! The director of the performance called silence and introduced you all, before opening the floor for questions.

"I have a question for the pianist..." You froze. That voice... That unmistakeable accent...

"You play with such passion... Such a sincere performance, you can almost feel the pain and sadness - is it from personal experience?" You felt as sick as the day he left you three years ago, and you had to swallow hard to contain your emotions.

"No. No it isn't." Short and sweet. No need for anything more. You weren't actually capable of anything more in all honesty. Jim's voice in the crowd had stunned you. You knew, moving back to Dublin, there was a chance he would be around, but you'd fought so hard to move on... And he'd just undone it all with one simple question. You were grateful for the large tablecloth - your legs were shaking.

Fortunately the Q&A was over quickly, and you didn't hear his voice again but you could almost feel him staring at you throughout. Walking carefully offstage, your father was there waiting for you to take you back home.

"Are you okay y/n?" Your mum asked, seeing the far away look in your eyes.

"What? Oh.. yes mam I'm good.. just tired is all. Looking forward to getting into bed!" Your father glanced behind you and grinned suddenly.

"Jim! How lovely to see you again! How've you been?" Your father welcomed him with a handshake like they'd been friends for years, which only fueled your anger. If only he knew the truth.. your teeth gritted, you turned around and there he was.

"Yeah, good, thanks! Been a while y/n.." he looked to you and you forced a smile.

"Hasn't it just." You grimaced. He looked to the floor, then back up at your Dad.

"Michael, how about we go and have a drink? Been a while since we've been out, one drink won't hurt?" Your mum turned to you dad, earning her a glare from you. She glared back and dragged your father over to the bar, leaving you with Jim.

"Can we talk y/n?" His hand came to rest on your arm.

"Nothing to talk about Jim. You got what you wanted from me, then you fucked back off to be with your wife - what more is there to say?" You seethed, swiping his hand away.

"It wasn't like that y/n.. please let me explain?"

"You've had three years to explain!! You could have explained the day you left, instead of fucking me in the janitor's closet!" You hushed your voice, teeth still gritted, tears threatening to spill over.

"I couldn't face telling you.. okay? I couldn't bring myself to tell you the truth.. please, all I'm asking is a chance to explain. I know I'm 3 years late and I don't deserve it, but please?" You glanced down at his left hand and saw the wedding ring. Decision made.

"Go fuck yourself, Jim."

That weekend, your father had arranged a dinner party for you at home to celebrate you graduating and your successful debut performance. Your mum pulled you to one side as you were finishing getting ready.

"There's something I need to tell you y/n..." You turned to face her before you applied your lipstick, this didn't sound good.

"Your father's added 2 people to the guest list... Jim and Liane..." You stood in shock - why the hell was he inviting them?? They'd only worked together a couple of weeks... Why??

"No... Mam I can't do this! Please! Tell them I'm sick..." Your mum hugged you tight. She was the only one who knew what had happened back in Italy, promising never to tell your father in case he hunted Jim down with a rifle... And now here he was inviting him to dinner!!

"They've been catching up since they saw each other at your performance.. Jim's keen on History, your Dad teaches it.."

"He's just using Dad to get to me mam! And he's bringing his wife?? What the hell??"

"I know... I know... I've only just found out okay? If I'd known before now I'd have called the whole thing off but it's too late.. look at me.... Stand up straight. Smile. Blow it away. YOU, my girl, did nothing wrong. Nothing. HE is the slimeball, HE is the cheat, HE is the asshole. Understand?" You laughed a little, your mum never swore, it was so funny when she did... But she was right. You straighted up, and applied your lipstick, a new mindset forming.

You had your fun in Italy, Jim. It's my turn now.

You heard everyone downstairs, they'd all started to arrive around 30minutes ago. You restyled your hair into loose waves, and slipped into a figure hugging black dress. Walking down the stairs, you spotted him and nearly ran back up the stairs - instead, you held your resolve and walked on. Without even acknowledging him, you walked past him and made your way over to greet everyone. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head and couldn't help but smile.

The night was so much fun, you barely had time to acknowledge Jim trying to get your attention. Of course you noticed it - his eyes trying to catch yours, finding his way over to within a few feet of you before you turned your back and walked away - it was hilarious.

You were in the bathroom after saying goodbye to your guests when you heard the window knock.

"Open it y/n." His voice was on the other side. You gasped in shock, how the hell did he know you were in there? He left an hour ago?!

You ignored it, hoping he'd go away, but he was persistent. The knocking getting louder. You relented, worried it would alert your parents, and opened the window.

"What?" You hissed, seeing him outside.

"Will you PLEASE stop ignoring me?"

"I think they call it 'ghosting' Jim. Look it up - should sound familiar. Now, if you don't mind, kindly fuck off." You moved to close the window but he grabbed your arm, stopping you.

"You let me explain first. Then I'll fuck off, and I'll never contact you again. Deal?" You softened, reluctantly. You did deserve an explanation..

"Not here, my parents will be asking where I am..."

"Meet me tomorrow. At 11 - Campbell's cafe in town? Just give me the chance to explain, please?"

He was out of the window and running back to his car across the street before you had chance to respond.

[fan-girling-101]

Switched

Request by Anonymous: Hello can I please request a imagine where the ready has a twin sister and they decided to switch and see how long it takes everyone to notice. The reader is also dating JJ!! Thank you!!

JJ Maybank X Reader

Summary: Request^

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, slight rape just a little bit sorta

Word count: 2880

The twin Sadie, her nickname by Rafe is Die I hope someone gets the reference. Also thank you so so so much for my first request I was so happy. Please continue sending them in. And I’m very slow at updating so sorry in advance if I take a long time to respond. 

Part two

Not edited sorry for mistakes 

When me and my twin sister Sadie where younger we’d switch places all the time. I was amusing being someone else for the short time we’d do it. As we got older it stopped happening as much until the last time we did it was grade 6. The two of us have lived on the rich side of the Outerbanks our whole life The rich people were never my scene though, so I made friends with the pogues. I was closest to JJ out of everyone in the group and slowly I found myself falling for the blond headed idiot. And somehow that’s how I ended up here, two months into dating JJ but scheming with my sister.

“Come on Sadie just for a little bit.” I pleaded with her, between the two of us Sadie was always the level headed and calm sister. It was my idea in the first place to switch places back in kindergarten.

“I am NOT kissing JJ.” Was the main argument to why she didn’t want to do it.

“I don’t want you to kiss him. He’s my boyfriend, it’s not like I’m going to kiss Rafe the lo-” I got cut off with a hand over my mouth. The love of your life was the ending to that sentence. Sadie doesn’t like talking about it but she’s in love with Rafe Cameron.

“If we do this you need ground rules.” She states looking around my room for the notebook we would write the rules in everytime. She finds the dark read notebook on the bottom of my bookshelf and grabs a random pen from my desk. “1. No kissing anyone. I won’t kiss JJ and you don’t kiss you know who.” she says gesturing with her hand.

“I’m never going to kiss Voldemort.” I joke as she starts in her effortlessly perfect handwriting.

“Your so funny I might die of laughter.” Her bitch face on as she glares at me. “2. Don’t make and life altering decisions.” I nod along thinking of what else to add.

“4.” “What about 3 stupid.” “3 is a stupid number I don’t like it. 4. I pick what you wear and vice versa.” She starts writing it down writing three instead of four. “I think that’s it. There’s a bonfire tonight at John B’s tonight wanna start then?”

“Yea that’s good I’m supposed to go over to Sarah’s. And take a picture of it because if you do anything wrong I’m going to kill you and throw you in the marsh.”

“And remember no kissing ya know.”

Day one

Y/N’s Pov

Sadie dressed me in a white summer dress and I took her car over to the Camerons. When I park outside of the huge house I text Sarah to let me in. I pull down the sun visor and open the mirror looking at my appearance with the light make up and my Y/H/C slightly curled. 

“Your name is Sadie Y/L/N, your 16 and in love with Rafe Cameron.” I take a breath getting in the mindset of my twin. “I can totally do this.” I hop out the car making it to the first step when Sarah opens the door. “Hey.”

“Hi you know you don’t have to tell me you’re here. You just walk in.” She opens the door wider so I can slip through. I awkwardly laugh nodding my head unsure what to do. “Go up to my room I’ll get snacks.” 

I walk up the stairs trying to remember where her room is. I’ve only been here a few times before Midsummers so we could all get ready together. I look both ways before deciding on going right. I get to the door I think is Sarah’s opening it praying to God I was right. But God decided on taking a vacation, instead of the light purple walls I was hoping for I got grey ones instead. 

“Fuck!” I hear, the person in the room faces me calming down once he sees who opened the door. “God Die what the hell. Next time knock, and what are you even doing here.” 

“Umm.... I’m lost. I think my brain stopped working I thought this was Sarah’s room.” I say looking around the room my eyes landing on a white substance on the desk he stood up from. “What’s that.” I ask hoping it’s not what I think it is and Sadie’s crush is a druggie.

“Nothing, two four doors down.” I slowly nob. closing the door trying to forget what I ‘didn’t’ just see. “And Die you didn’t see anything ok.” I nod again opening the right door this time sitting waiting for Sarah.

Sadie’s POV

“Hey princess.” JJ greats me as I get out of Putt Putt Y/N’s car. His hand finds its way to my denim clad hip from the shorts Y/N put me in. I really just want to push his hand off me, this is my sister boyfriend for God sake. He leans down to press him lips to mine but i turn my head his lips landing on my cheek instead. 

“Hi.” I wave to the rest of them pulling away from JJ. I try to ignore the stare coming from the blond as I sit in one of the lawn chairs. The sun was going down as I got here Y/N telling me what time to leave and what to wear before heading out way earlier to the Camerons. 

“Late as always Y/N/N.” John B shakes his head sipping the beer in his hand. Never once has my sister been early for anything and it stresses me out so much I don’t know how she does it. 

“It’s called being fashionably late Booker. But you wouldn’t get that would you?” I laugh knowing that was something she would say to her best friends. JJ sits beside me still staring so I turn to face him giving him a smile, he relaxes a little bit wrapping an arm around my shoulders. My or Y/N’s phone rings in her backpack I grab it out seeing the text from ‘My Person’, it was what we agreed on for our contact names after we repeatedly binged Grey’s.

                                                   My person

Bro what do you and S talk about????

                                                                       The latest drama at school

Sooo....                                                                                                        What is the latest drama

                                                  God do we even go to the same school                                                                           Immanuel P. kissed Madison B.

Seriously!! 

In a few hours it hits midnight and I was freezing. The cropped AC/DC shirt and shorts doing nothing against the cold autumn air. The night of Autumn in the Outerbanks were always so cold for a place that’s supposed to be hot. The fire was helping but I wanted something more. I got up to check Putt Putt for one of Y/N’s hoodies but I was pulled back landing on JJ’s lap a small shriek leaving my lips. 

“Were you going Princess.” His arms tightly around my waist while my arms go around his neck. His eyes staring into mine with nothing but adoration. I was happy that Y/N had someone in her life that loved her, but the way he looked at me thinking I was my sister makes me want to tell them a little . But I have to admit this is so fun.

“I’m cold and just going to find a hoodie.” He still doesn’t let go, instead one hand moves off my waist to grab something beside him. In his hand is know a black hoodie that would be way too big for me but as he hands it to me I slip it over my head. “Thanks.”

“You ok, you seem, I don’t know... off.” 

“I’m fine.” I give him a reassuring smile but I can she he doesn’t buy it.

“Are you sure you know you can tell anything right.” His thumb starts rubbing circles on the exposed skin under my shirt. I am so taking a long bath when I get home. I like JJ, it’s not like I hate Pogues or anything it just weird though.

“I 100 percent fine J, if something was wrong I’d tell you, you know that”

“Yea I do.”

Day 2

Sadie’s POV

Nothing was happening with the pogues today so I got an off day, but then I had to go and say something I wish I didn’t. 

                                              🥰My Surfer Boy🥺

You doing anything                                                                                      Can I come over 

                                                    Sadie is dragging me to a kook party

Well then I’ll just have to score an invite

Now JJ wasn’t going to stop till he could come which wouldn’t be hard as Sarah was inviting John B.

Y/N POV 

We pick out each others clothes before going to the party at Topper’s. I go to find Sarah lookinaroundud for the blonde. But instead of finding that blond I see Sade and JJ, his arm wrapped around my sister making me jealous. 

“Hey Die.” A voice says right behind me making me jump not at all expecting Rafe. He chuckles at me reaction before handing me a drink.

“What’s in it.” I ask, Sadie doesn't normally drink so I don’t know if I should take a sip of the dark liquor. “Trust me.” Is all he says back. I take whiff smelling how strong it is. Me personally would never trust Rafe, but this is Sadie not Y/N. I take a cautious sip. The second I take a sip I almost gag at how strong it is. I could handle alcohol but that is to much. Rafe starts laughing so I grab the front of his shirt and pour the rest down his chest.

“Hey Hey.” he pushes me back but it’s to late his shirt now had a dark stain on the front. “Okay maybe I deserved that.” He shakes his head at mumbling something about changing his shirt. There was a tug on my arm and I was faced with myself, well my sister. JJ behind her laughing putting his hand up for me to high five. Which I did.

“What are you doing. I would never do that.” She scolds me in a whisper so JJ won’t hear. When we switched Sadie was very serious about staying discreet. 

“Well I can’t kiss him as you what do you want me to do?” I laugh as she scoffs walking away JJ following behind her still laughing.

Day 4

Sadie’s POV

Four days nobody really suspected anything, well other than JJ he keeps asking if I ok. And I’ve had to dodge every kiss he tried to give me, and when I tell you JJ loves kiss Y/N it’s an understatement. It was the night of a boneyard kegger hosted by the pogues. 

I was chatting with Kie about turtles when a very drunk Kelce came over. He slung his arm around my shoulder, his drink spilling out of his cup and onto Y/N’s favorite shirt. I never really liked Kelce he just made me uncomfortable. Any time I saw Rafe, Topper and him out I’d always say hi, bothe Rafe and Topper would respond with a hi while Kelce would look me up and down before saying anything.

“Hey babygirl. God you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of fucking you are you sister, to have the two of you under me screaming my name. Why don’t we make it reality.” He drops his mostly full cup silling it on the converse I was wearing. His hand going to my waist and his lips attaching to my neck.

“Get off me! Stop!” Suddenly he was ripped off me. JJ’s fist colliding with his face. Kie grabs my hand asking if I was okay. I nod hopping into the van. Soon enough John B, Pope and JJ came to the van, JJ sitting right beside me wrapping me in his arms hugging me as no one said anything. 

“I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to punch him in the face for him to stop.” JJ said as we park at John B’s. I grab my phone leaving the van before it’s fully stopped I ran inside Dialing my number. 

“Yo Sade how’s life on the cut.”

“Were you ever going to tell me about Kelce.” I ask angrly pacing around the small bathroom.

“About that.” She nervously laughs not continuing. “Maybe should've warned you Kelce is in love with us before you went to the party.”

In Love with us! Y/N he tried to have sex with me!.”

“I know.”

“I hate you sometimes.”

Day 5

Y/N’s POV

I was at a small party just some friends over and some games at Sarah’s. We were all sitting in the living room talking about all the drama at school which I knew nothing about. A hour in Rafe and some of his guys friends walked in. Just as Sarah was going to tell them to leave Carmella asked them to stay, while practically eye fucking the kook king himself. Instead of walking over to the girl begging for his attention he sat beside me on the couch. I put Sadie’s phone I was currently texting her on so she could keep up with everything down.

“Nice to see you here Die.” 

“Hi Rafey.” I replied back using the nickname I usually call him. He rolls his eye as Carmella sits basically on top of him and starts a conversation about some boring kook thing. I felt bad for Sadie if this is what she has to deal with. “Come on. We’re out of snacks.” I grab his hand pulling him with me to the kitchen.

“Why do I have to come.” He whines like a baby as we get into the hallway, but follows even when I let go of his hand.

“Because I need help getting snacks.” JJ please forgive me for what I’m about to do. I grab the front of his expensive polo shirt putting my lips to his. He starts to kiss back but I pull away grabbing Oreos and walking back to the living room. Soon Rafe walks in clearly shocked of what just happened in the kitchen. Rule one and two broken. Oops.

Sadie’s POV

After hours of sitting in the sun on the boat I’m practically dying. I mean sure living in Obx you get used to the heat but someone turn the heat down. JJ has been asking me nonstop questions about things which I find weird but I answer.

What star sign are you? Virgo

Who’s the president? Trump

How many states are there? 50

9x7? 63

Our favorite thing to do together? Surf

What does www mean? World wide web

What university are you going to? UNC

Dream job? Not sure

I was confused what was happening the Pogues all asked what JJ was doing but he just said nothing.

“Sadie.”

“Yea-shit.”

“HA I knew it.” JJ jumped up startling everyone. I sighed, everytime it was always me that messes up if people find out. 

“How did you find out. Was it that I knew was www meant?” I question texting Y/N to get to John B’s. As we pulled up to the dock Kie got out laughing that I should be an actress. 

“No it’s that you answered 9x7 so fast. Also next time dream job is opening a surf shop together.”

Y/N’s POV

When I show up I knock on the door fiddling with my fingers. The door opens with the blond headed, blue eyed boy kissing me. He wraps his arms tightly around my back like he hasn’t kissed my in forever. I giggled kissing his nose wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Took you long enough. Five days surfer boy, gotta do better next time.” I push past him into the Chateau. “Hey guys miss me.” They shake the heads at me calling us crazy.

“I just thought it was that time of the month or something.” JJ said wrapping his arms around my torso resting his head on my head. I hit the back of his head causing him to playfully bite my ear. “Don’t ever do that again I was worried you were mad at me.” He looks between me and Sadie and I turn to face him giving his a salute.

I sit beside Sadie whispering in her ear that I kissed Rafe earlier tonight. “WHAT!” She jumps up. “You broke rule one and two!!! I have to go fix what you messes up now!”

“I didn’t break rule four though.”

“I hate you!” She runs out of the house starting up her car and driving off to the Camerons.

Later that night I’m curled into JJ on the bed in the room he claimed as our. The shirt he was wearing now over my shoulders enclosing me in the smell and heat that is JJ Maybank. My head on his chest listening to the rhythmic heartbeat. In the five days without JJ this is one of the things I missed most. His smell was just intoxicating and his arms tightly around me felt safe.

“Oh JJ I may have kissed Rafe.”

______________________________________________________________

Part two

[derekfoxwit]

Doctor Dorpden’s Critical Tips of Prestige

Note: This post was made with satirical intentions in mind. I’m only emphasizing because I’ve had a couple of comments on previous joke posts I’ve did take it seriously. With that said, here we go.

Tip 1: For starters, remember that when looking at the work, if the Mystic Knee twitches fast enough to punch a hole in a wall, this suggests that the work should be near the lowest of the low. No further development of opinion is needed.

Tip 2: For an equal degree of sophistication, give the warm comfort of nostalgia at least 5 times more chances than the new thing that MAY seem actually poggers.

Tip 3: If you have the anecdote of encountering shitty fans, then use them as a scapegoat for the show they flaunt over being shitty. Clearly, they’re always making the show the way it is.

Tip 4: If you haven’t heard much about a newer film or show you’re yet to watch, there’s an 85% chance that film or show is actually not worth your time. The Father (2020) isn’t as widespread as Joker (2019) for a reason.

Tip 5: At this point, just go for the Asian Artist Dick. I’m actually in the mood to see merit in that because I want to look edgy against cute doodles. Stop attacking Uzaki-Chan, you cowards!

Tip 6: Avoid the electronic tunes. They’ll make you smell like a bum, for there’s no structural in a music album that’s nothing but wubs.

Tip 7: If you see a Tweet that looks dumb, use it as a means of generalizing all the fans of a work as sharing that same opinion.

Tip 8: If the cartoon I’m given doesn’t provide me with mature ideas such as slicing an Arbok in half or fake boobs, then the cartoon might as well be on the same level as Teletubbies.

Tip 9: You know the music is (c)rap when it brings up drugs, regardless of lyrical context.

Tip 10:  Raw mood is the indicator of quality cartooning. If you’re quick to assume the worst in the newest HBO Max original cartoon, then you got thyself a stinker. Same thing if you were super bummed out when watching a new thing, regardless of anecdotal context.

Tip 11:  When you’re not given continuous throwbacks, ensure you’re as reductive and over-generalizing about the works shown as possible.

Tip 12:  If your hazy and imperfect as hell recollection of a children’s film, whether it’s Wall-E or Lilo & Stitch, would describe said film as “too sugary” or “key-waving schlock”, then that HAS to be the case. No meat on that bone whatsoever.

Tip 13: Simpler, more graphic style that isn’t as realistic as old-school Disney or Anime? You got yourself a lazy style with zero passion put into it.

UPA? Who’s THAT?!

Tip 14: Don’t trust anyone saying that western children’s cartoons had any form of artistic development after 2008 (with, like, TWO exceptions). If it did, why didn’t we go from stealing organs in a 2001 cartoon to showing opened stomachs in a 2021 cartoon?

Tip 15: Big booba is always important to the strong female character’s quality.

Tip 16:  Only MY ships count, for they provide me with a feeling of intelligence.

Tip 17: “PG-13″ and “R” rating just simply mean you’re not caring for expressing themes in a sophisticated manner. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.

Tip 18:  In this age of smelly radicals, “Death of the Author” is more important than ever. Without it, this’ll imply that a classic like The Matrix was secretly toxic, due to what the Wachowskis have to say about it being an “allegory of trans people.”

Tip 19: Turn the fandoms you hate into your torture porn. Ask in Tweets to Retweet one sentence that’d “trigger” them. Go out of your way to paint all of them as blind consoomers. That’ll show them, and it’ll show how much more intelligent you are compared to those clowns.

Tip 20: Whatever the Mystic Knee dictates upon the first viewing of a work is what shall indicate the full structural extent of the film.

Tip 21: The mindset of a 2000s edgelord is one that actually understands the artistry of the medium of animation. Listen to that crazy but ingenious man.

Tip 22: Because sheer ambition makes me feel manly, the high pedestal you bestow upon a cartoon work should be based mostly on the mere mention or mere suggestion of serious topics. This means that pure comedy is smelly.

Tip 23: Is the new work tackling subjects that you’ve loved a childhood work of yours for covering? Just assume it’s super bare-bones in that case compared to the older case, for there’s nothing the older work can do to truly prove itself otherwise. Seriously, Letterboxd. Stop giving any 2010s cartoon anything above a 4/5

Tip 24: If the Mystic Knee is suggesting that the work is crummy, then consider any explanation off the top of your head for why the work in question is crummy.

Tip 25: Sexual and gender identity is inherently political, so don’t focus on them in the story. It’s no wonder why Full Metal Alchemist has caught on more than the She-Ra reboot.

Tip 26: Since I got bothered by a random butt monkey type character in a crummy cartoon, I’m now obligated to assume that having a butt monkey will only harm the writing integrity of the cartoon.

Seriously, Mr. Enter....what?!

Tip 27: We’re at a point where pure comedy for a kids’ cartoon is doing nothing but dumbing down the children. Like seriously...... I doubt Billy and Mandy would ever use farts as a punchline, unlike these newer kids comedies.

Tip 28: The difference between the innuendo in kids’ cartoons I grew up on and the ones Zootopia made is the sense of prestige they give me. Just take notes from the former instead.

Tip 29: Wanna make a work of artistic merit? Just take notes from the stuff I whore out to. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.

Tip 30: Always remember this golden rule: If the newer work, or a work you’ve recently experienced the first time, was truly great, why isn’t it providing the exact emotions from your younger, more impressionable years?

Tip 31: If the Mystic Knee aims to break the bones of a character doing certain things (.i.e. having body count of thousands; lashing out to character; etc.), that means the character is bad and deserves no redemption.

Tip 32: If you want me to believe there’s any intrigue or depth in your antagonist, give them redemption, for I am in need of that sorta thing being spelled out. Looking at you, Syndrome. Should’ve taken notes from Tai Lung.

Tip 33: In a case where you’re going “X > Y” (.i.e. manga compared to western comics), ALWAYS CHERRY PICK! Use the recent controversies of the “Y” item while pretending that the “X” item has never had anything of the sort.

Tip 34: BEFORE you bring up those comments that shat on the original Teen Titans cartoon back when it was new, whether for making Starfire “more PC” or whatever.......the DIFFERENCE between them and me is that THEY were just bad faith fools that couldn’t see true majesty out of blind rage. I, however, am truly certain that calling any western TV cartoon from 2014-onward a work that transcends its generation suggests a destruction of the medium.

Tip 35: Based on fandom growth, it shows that any newer show isn’t being watched much by kids, but rather loser adults that act like children. Therefore, there’s more prestige in what I grew with.

Tip 36: The focus on children is bad at this point since the children of today have attention spans that flies would have.

Tip 37: A select few screenshots (or even one) of either a less elaborate attacking animation, less realistic game graphics, or a less on-model image in a cartoon indicates EVERYTHING about the work’s quality.

Tip 38: Consuming or writing media where characters go through constant suffering is little more than gaining pleasure out of it. YOU SICKOS!

Looking at you, Lily Orchard!

Tip 39: Whether it’s a sexual awakening story or just simply a romance, focus on a character being lesbian, trans, bi, etc., then it shouldn’t be in a kids’ work. It’s too spicy for them by default. Kids don’t want romance anyway.

Tip 40: The very idea of a western cartoon with no full-blown antagonist (i.e. Inside Out) is a destruction of animated artistry. Sorry, but it’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.

Tip 41: Unless it’s my fluffy pillow, such as Disney’s Robin Hood, it should be obligated to assume the inserting of anthros is only there to pleasure the furries. Looking at YOU, Zootopia!

Tip 42: With how rough and rash The Beast was, it shows that he was more of an abusive lover. Therefore, I refuse to believe that Beauty and the Beast has any of the meticulous moral writing that most of Disney’s other 90s films has.

Tip 43: When you suggest one work should’ve “taken notes” from another work in order to do better, BE VAGUE! Those who agree will be shown to be geniuses.

Tip 44: Remember how morally grey Invader Zim was? That really goes to show how little the Western Animation scene has been trying since that show. Really should just be taking notes from that series (and of course anime).

Tip 45: Even if I have a radar that clearly indicates such, hiding the item I look for inside an enemy is always bad, for I refuse to believe it would be inside the enemy.

Goddamn it, Arin!

Tip 46: People struggle understanding your gender identity or pronouns? All there is to see in that is a giant cloud of egotism that reads “My problems” zapping another smaller cloud that reads “other people’s problems”. Seriously, kids are starving, so WHAT if you identity confused someone. Grow a spine!

Tip 47: Stop pretending that adaptations should colorize how a story or comic series should be defined. No way in FUCK can a cartoon or film incarnation become the definitive portrayal of my precious superhero idol.

Tip 48: Enough with your precious “limited animation” techniques, YOU WESTERN HACKS! All you’re doing is admitting to sheer laziness and lacking artistic integrity. Now if you excuse me, I’ll be watching more anime, since that gives me a sense of prestige.

Tip 49: If getting five times more detail than the 2D animated visuals have requires someone getting hurt, so be it. No pain, no gain after all.

Tip 50: Yes, I genuinely struggle to believe there’s this majestic level of layered material without having the most immediate yet still vague re-assurance practically yelling in my face. But that’s STILL the work’s fault, not mine.

Tip 51: Every Klasky-Csupo cartoon has more artistic integrity than any of them cartoons with gay lovers such as Kipo or the Netflix She-Ra show.

Tip 52:  If Sergio Pablos’ Klaus is anything to go by, we have no excuse to utilize those smelly as fuck digital animation “styles” found on Stinky Universe, Suck-Ra or Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turds.

Tip 53: Stop projecting your orientation onto works of actual talent. Seriously, how does Elton John’s I’m Still Standing expel ANY rainbow flag energy?

Tip 54: Hip hop and electronica have been the destruction of music, especially the kind that’s actually organic and not farting on the buttons of a beeping or drumming gadget.

Tip 55: The audience for cartoons has become significantly less clear over the years. We should just go back to Saturday mornings of being sold toys or shit kids actually want.

Tip 56: PSAs for kids shouldn’t be about ‘woke’ content. They should be actual problems such as doing drugs; not playing with knifes / outlets / matches; or acceptance.

Tip 57: The instant you realize a detail in a childhood work that’s better understood as an adult, you’re forced to paint that work as the most transcendent thing in the world. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.

Tip 58: Before you lash out on ALL rich people, remember this: #Not All Rich People.

Tip 59: There’s nothing to gain out of the (c)rap scene other than becoming a spiteful, gun-wielding thug that sniffs weed for breakfast.

Tip 60: Since the Mystic Knee told me to get anal about prom episodes in several gay cartoons, this shows that writing about one’s younger experiences just makes you look pathetic.

Tip 61: Another smelly thing about Zootopia is how it was painting a police chief as stern and exclusive. #Not All Chiefs

Tip 62: Me catching a glimpse of Grave of the Fireflies as a kid and turning out fine shows that you may as well show kids more adult works without worry. No amount of psychological questions being asked will suggest otherwise.

Tip 63: There’s a reason why the Mystic Knee keeps leaning more toward the 90s and early 2000s than most decades. That knee KNOWS where there’s a sense of true refinement.

Tip 64: The BIG difference between rock and electronica? Steward Copeland actually DRUMS. All that the likes of Burial, Boards of Canada, Depeche Mode and several others did was push drum buttons.

Tip 65: One exception to the golden nostalgia is when the work in question doesn’t stuff your face with fantastical, bombastic stories. At which point, there can only be rose-colored blinds covering Nickelodeon’s Doug. Nothing of merit or personal resonance to be found.

Tip 66: Remember that the sense of nuance in the work comes down to there being everything including the kitchen sink, whether it involves multiple geographic landscapes; giving us hundreds of characters; etc. Only through the extremes will I be able to tell there is nuance.

Tip 67: Once you see a joke that has an involvement with sexual or violent content, just ignore the full picture and just reduce it to having nothing to it but “sex, violence, gimme claps.”

PKRussel has entered the chat

Tip 68: With all the SJWs messing up the art of comedy, lament the times where you could be called a comic genius, NOT a monster, for shouting out the word “STAB,” calling a gay weird, painting Middle Easterns as inherently violent, etc.

Tip 69: Guitar twang will always win out over (c)rap beats. There’s a reason your grandma is more likely to listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd than Kendrick Lamar.

Tip 70: Once the Mystic Knee notices a lack of squealing at the video game with linearity, that shows there’s more artistry in going full-blown open world.

Tip 71: Related to Tips 66 and 68, ensure your comedy gets as much information and mileage out of each individual skit as possible. EMPHASIZE if you need to. Continuously spout out your quirky phrase of “STAB” if needed.

Tip 72: Based on the onslaught of TV shows with many seasons and episodes, animated or otherwise, it shows that there’s more worth going for that than simply having a miniseries or a 26-episode anime.

Tip 73: Building off of the previous tip, you’re better off squeezing and exhausting every little detail and notable characterization rather than keeping anything simple and possibly leaving a stone unturned, especially if there’s supposed to be a story. 

Tip 74: Playing through the fan translation of Mother 3 made me realize how much some newer kids’ works just try too hard to get serious. Why even make the kids potentially think about the death of a family member?

Tip 75: The fear I had over Sid’s toys from the first Toy Story and similar anecdotal emotions are the be-all indicators of what kind of show or film is fitting for the children.

Tip 76:  Seeing this British rapper chick have a song titled “Point and Kill” just further exemplifies the fears I’ve had about rappers being some of the most harmful folks ever.

Tip 77: The problem with attempting to make a more “relatable” She-Ra is that kids aren’t looking for relatability. They want the escapism of buff fighters or something similar. This is why slice-of-life is so smelly.

Tip 78: Based on seeing the rating of “PG-13″ or “R,” I can tell that the dark humor is little more than “hur dur sex and guns.” Given the “TV-Y7 FV” rating of Invader Zim, the writers should’ve taken notes from that instead just so I can sense actual prestige.

Tip 79: The original He-Man has more visual intrigue in its animation than any of those smelly glorified doodles found in the “styles" of the 2010s and early 2020s.

Tip 80: It’s always the fault of the game that my first guess (that I refuse to divert from) on how I have to go through an obstacle won’t work.

Tip 81: Zootopia discussing prejudice ruins the majestic escapism I got from my precious childhood films from 1991-2004. Them kids might as well be watching the news. Now to watch some Hunchback after I finish these tips.

Tip 82: There is no such thing as an unreasonable expectation, and there’s especially no wrong way to address the lack of met expectations! For example, if you expect some early 2010s cartoon on the Disney Channel to be a Kids X-Files, yet you get moments such as some girl getting high on stick dipping candy, you got the right to paint the worst out of that show for not being “Kids’ X-Files.”

Tip 83: Related to my example for Tip 82, if you get the slightest impression of something being childish, you know you got yourself a children’s work that does little than wave keys and has basically nothing substantial for them. In this situation, those malfunctioning robots found in Wall-E are the guilty party.

Tip 84: Without the extensive dialogue that I’m used to getting, how can one say for certain there was any amount of characterization in the title character of Wall-E?

Tip 85: Ever noticed yourself gradually being less likely to expect an upcoming work or view a work you’re just consuming as “the next best thing”? That’s ALWAYS the fault of smelly “artists” (hacks really) and their refusal to give a shit.

Tip 86:  It’s obligatory for your lead to be explicitly heroic just so there is this immediate re-assurance that they’re a good one.

Tip 87: Without the comforting safety net of throwbacks, one cannot be for certain that there has been an actual evolution of a series or the art of animation and video games.

Tip 88: Don’t PSA kids on stuff they give zero fucks about. That means no gender identities or pronouns, race, etc.

Tip 89: Don’t listen to Mamoru Hosoda saying that anime women tend to be “depicted through a lens” of sexual desire. He’s just distracting from the superior prestige found in anime women.

Tip 90:  If you’re desperate to let others know that your talking points are reasonable, just repeat them over and over with little expansion on said talking points.

Tip 91: 7 or more seasons of art is better than 26 episodes of art.  EVERY TIME!

Tip 92: Always remember to continuously talk up the innuendo and mature subject matter of the childhood work as the most prestigious, transcendent thing of all time. With that in mind, there’s a high chance that your favorite childhood work will be better known than Perfect Blue (1997), and there’s likely a reason for that.

Tip 93: An art style that gives many characters relatively more realistic arm muscle details will always shine through more than any sort of art style done for “simplicity” (laziness, really).

Tip 94:  Seeing a few (like, even VERY FEW) people show more enthusiasm for Steven Universe over Invader Zim really shows the lower bar that has been expected out of the western animation scene compared to anime.

Tip 95: Electronic music makes less conventional time signatures cheap as hell. REAL music like rock makes them the exact opposite.

Tip 96: If your Mystic Knee suggests that the 90s cartoon being viewed doesn’t showcase a vague sense of refinement or artistic integrity, then every related assumption of yours is right. EVERY TIME!

Tip 97: Doing everything and the kitchen sink for one series or movie shows a better sense of refinement and prestige than any form of simplicity. THIS includes character design as well.

Tip 98: The advent of that Star Wars: Visions anime really shows just how stinky western cartoons have become.

Tip 99:  For those wondering, no, Europe isn’t being counted in my definition of “western animation”. Doing so is a complete disservice to prestige.

Tip 100: If even less than half of these tips aren’t being considered, you can kiss that prestige badge goodbye. After all, I SAID SO!

[jalapeno-princess]

Angel of Mine

College Boyfriend Mark X Reader

Genre: FLUFFIEST OF FLUFF, Doting boyfriend Mark that we all deserve

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: You and your boyfriend Mark are cuddled up in your bed watching a movie when you are reminded that you have an essay due in a couple of hours that you haven’t even started on. Before you can completely break down, your boyfriend comes to your rescue and offers to write your paper for you. It’s in the moments of watching him so focused, typing away at your laptop do you realize how lucky you are to have Mark as a boyfriend.

A/N: Hey guys! So it’s the beginning of midterms here in Hawaii and i’ve already cried seven times I am not kidding you I have two semesters left of college and this is the hardest it’s ever been. I wrote this imagine for shits and giggles; i’ve never had a boyfriend before (HAHAHAHA CRIES IN FILIPINO AND KOREAN) so I wouldn’t know if there are guys out there who are actually like this (If you are, God bless you) (and if your boyfriend is like this, MARRY HIM) I actually watched a tiktok post on instagram right after I finished this where this girl said she was doing her boyfriend’s homework because he was stressed or whatever and if that isn’t couple goals than I don’t know what is (btw I do not condone having someone else do your homework) (especially if you force them to do it because you don’t want to it’s your responsibility and your education, but if they offer...it’s a different story) (LOL) anyways, enough of me blabbering, please enjoy reading while I cry in a corner.

“Remind me how I got myself in this situation again?” Your boyfriend gave you a knowing look and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a faint giggle at the sight of his furrowed brows.

“Because you love me.” He playfully rolled his eyes and continued typing away at your computer.

“Yeah, sometimes a little too much. But if I remember correctly, you promised to suck me off once I’m finished writing this damn thing, so don’t think I’m going to forget our agreement babe.”

To say you were a procrastinator would be the understatement of the year. Just a few hours ago, you and Mark were comfortably cuddled up together in bed while you both watched the live action version of Mulan. When your boyfriend excused himself to go use the bathroom, you decided to scroll through your Instagram while waiting.

After looking at a couple of posts from some of your friends and family, you were curious as to what everyone was doing and you found yourself going through some of their stories. Finals were less than two weeks away, so you were used to seeing your friends post pictures of them working their many assignments or studying for exams.

What you weren’t expecting to see was one of your classmate’s working on an essay for your English class that was apparently due in less than four hours. Only then did it hit you; you had yet to write the paper and it was worth 20% of your grade. For weeks, you told yourself you were going to start on it and when it was first assigned over two months ago, you thought you had all the time in the world.

Two months went by quicker than you could even fathom and you were frustrated with yourself for not writing it down on your calendar or completing it earlier. You practically ran over to your laptop and began looking up the rubric to see how your professor wanted you to write your essay and you could feel your heart sink to your stomach as soon as you read the requirements.

Mark was confused when he saw you no longer lying in the bed; the two of you decided to have a lazy day indoors and you’ve only left the bed twice to use the bathroom and to get something to snack on. This past week has been extremely rough on your mind and your body; so when you told Mark you had no intention on doing anything other than laying in bed and watching movies, he knew to trust your words.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

Your flustered expression only made him even more curious as to what could have happened in the few minutes he was in the bathroom for. You bit your bottom lip in frustration; knowing how Mark could be whenever it came to your education, you were afraid he was going to be upset once he found out you had only a few hours to write your essay. Since you were too much in shock to respond to him, he took matters in to his own hands and looked at your computer screen.

“Wait—I remember you mentioning this essay a couple of weeks ago—eight pages?! Six educational sources—and it’s due by 11:59 P.M. tonight—y/n what the hell?!”

This wasn’t the first time you waited till right before your assignment was due to start working on it. Matter a fact, most of your important assignments; research papers, group projects, essays and online tests were completed on the day they were due. Sometimes it was on purpose; you felt as if some of your best work were the ones you’d work on right before you were supposed to turn it in. You knew it had a lot to do with the fact that you felt pressured to do better knowing you had a time limit; but most of the time you were just lazy and didn’t want to do any work at all.

You and Mark knew about each and every single thing there is to know about one another. He knew of each and every beauty mark on your body and where it was located, he memorized all your aunt’s, uncle’s and cousin’s names, he knew the exact shade of blue that you claimed was your favorite color and he knew how you liked your tea in the morning.

The only thing he had no control over, was the way you handled your education. Mark thought the entire world of you; he believed you were the most hardworking, courageous, determined, generous and golden-hearted person he had the amazing pleasure of knowing. And he wasn’t being biased because you were his girlfriend, but you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen before. In his eyes, you were flawless; you could do no wrong—well; the only problem Mark really had whenever it came to you was the fact that you didn’t know how to prioritize your responsibilities.

After what happened to you right around the time you were introduced to one another, Mark would’ve thought that your mindset and outlook on how you managed everything going on in your life would change. He knew you were capable of great things; when you put your mind to it, you could finish any task that you were given and you were great with multitasking. Mark saw how much time, persistence and effort you would put in to your job or whenever you’d lend a hand to anyone who needed assistance; he admired your work ethic and how passionate you could get when it came to the people and things that you loved.

It was just harder for you to put time in to your essays, journals, blogs or reading the books your professors would assign. School was never something you ever really cared for; it wasn’t like you were really learning anything anyway. For years, you tried your best in being good at all subjects. You’d stay up studying for hours on end only to not retain any information that you learned and it wasn’t entirely your fault. The educational system was just fucked. In this generation, it isn’t even about learning anything; the main focus is turning in assignments on time.

The professors could give less of a shit whether or not you understand any of the material being taught. During your relationship, Mark tried his best to motivate you and even bribed you with food and kisses. He even offered to make flashcards for you if that meant you’d have an easier time studying, but nothing ever worked.

As much as he wanted you to be successful with your education, especially because he genuinely loved attending school, he knew not to force anything on you and making matters worse. This time was different though; this class was one you were already having a hard time with and this essay in particular would determine whether or not you pass or fail by the end of the semester. Your boyfriend tried his best to hide his disappointment, but it was only natural for him to be upset. Attending college was not cheap at all.

He was completely aware of the thousands of dollars you had to fund on your own because your parents weren’t able to help you financially as much as they wish they could. Since he was extremely supportive of you and each and every single one of your endeavors, he even helped pay for quite a bit of your tuition which you haven’t completely forgave him for, but you both showed him and told him on a daily basis how grateful you were that he did such a thing; and that he never fails to take care of you in ways you didn’t think you deserved.

A part of him wanted to continue his poor attempt at scolding you, but as soon as he saw tears building up at the brim of your eyelids, all his anger and frustration dissipated. If there was anything Mark hated, it was seeing you cry. The reason behind your tears didn’t matter; it just broke his heart knowing you were sad and right now, he pushed the idea of your procrastination to the back of his mind. He motioned for you to stand up and kissed both your cheeks to get rid of any trace of tears. Then, he pulled you in to his embrace and placed his chin on the top of your head before he comfortingly ran his hands up and down your back.

“I’m so sorry Mark—I’m sure you’re upset with me and you have every right to be—I’m so stupid—“ if this were under different circumstances, the cheeky pinch on your butt would’ve earned your boyfriend a punch to the shoulder, but you knew this was his way to stop you from degrading yourself. Before you could ever say anything negative about yourself, Mark would try and divert your attention away from bad mouthing yourself.

Although you and Mark were together for three years now and you knew he was the man you planned on spending the rest of your life with, there was an annoying voice in your head that would remind you almost every single day that you didn’t deserve him. He’s sacrificed so much for you and you knew it was because he loved you; but you never understood why. You weren’t anything special; sure, you loved him with every fiber of your being and you knew he was well aware of that. Yet, you knew he deserved so much more but there was no way you’d ever be able to let him go. Not when he was the one who saved your life all those years ago. The only person who meant anything to you.

As much as you loved your family and your friends, nobody could ever compare or mean as much to you. Nobody could ever be as important as Mark was. He was the only person you were sure you would die from heartbreak if you were to lose him. It was selfish of you to continue dragging him down with you and your toxic ways, but you needed Mark; you’d be nothing without him. He was your own personal guardian angel sent to change your life entirely for the better. He was the only good thing going for you and with the way he treated you as if you were the most fragile and rarest jewel in the world, you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re not stupid baby—a little irresponsible and careless, but not at all stupid. Hmph, I’ll tell you what, seeing as how I’m better when it comes to writing essays, let me handle it this time.”

“No, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you do this assignment for me Mark, I’d rather take the F—“ the soft kiss he placed on the corner of your lips made it aware that Mark meant business. Whenever he’d say something, he meant it. However, you refused to allow him to work on something you kept pushing back for months. Your essay was your full responsibility and it wouldn’t be fair for your boyfriend to have to write something he didn’t benefit from in such a small amount of time. God, he really did love you.

“The more time you spend trying to talk me out of helping you when I already made my mind up, the less time I’ll have to work on this paper. I don’t want you stressing over this; you’re already so worn-out as it is. This’ll be a piece of cake babe—you just sit on the bed and look pretty while I get started.”

Mark had to be a figment of your imagination. There was no way someone as thoughtful, kind-hearted, selfless and caring as him could exist. Most people would groan at the idea of having to do more work and if it were anyone else, you were sure you would’ve gotten a completely different reaction. You were quick to pull him in to a tight hug and left multiple chaste kisses all across of his face.

“I love you—more than I can ever fathom in to words Mark Tuan. You don’t understand how much this means to me—I’ll do anything you ask of me. Ugh, I will never get over how amazing you are and I could never thank you enough for all that you do for me.” He cupped your cheek and placed a wet kiss on your jaw.

“Anything huh? Maybe you could do some loads of my laundry, but that’s pretty much it—oh. I um—maybe you could—ah never mind.” You looked at him in curiosity and giggled when you saw the apples of his cheeks grow pink with embarrassment. Whatever he was probably referring to had to be something he was shy about. Your boyfriend was the definition of an introvert and he had a hard time asking people questions or even favors; this sometimes also included you. If you wanted to know what was on his mind, you’d have to pry it out of him.

“What is it babe?” He gave you the most adorable shrug and nibbled on his bottom lip as he began to look everywhere around the room but at you.

“Don’t feel as if you have to do this for me, I really don’t expect anything from you, but I wouldn’t mind a blow job if you’re up for it later.” One thing you loved the most about Mark, was how gentle and awkward he would get whenever it came to initiating sex or insinuating that he wanted a sexual favor from you. It was cute, yet it also turned you on for some reason. Maybe it was because he’d act totally innocent and submissive since he never wanted you to feel uncomfortable and he preferred to take things at your pace; but once the two of you actually made love, his attitude would take a 360 degree turn.

Sex with Mark was your favorite past time; he could get very naughty and rough in bed, but he could also take things slow and sensually. It really depended on the mood, but your boyfriend was an extremely generous and passionate lover. He knew what you liked, what positions you enjoyed the most, how to lick, bite and suck on all your sensitive body parts in order to elicit any kind of needy reaction out of you. It really boggled your mind that someone like Mark—someone so perfect without a flaw at all actually existed and what was harder to believe was that you were the lucky girl who was extremely blessed to call him yours.

That was something you would never take for granted; nor did you think you would ever get used to having him in your life. You seductively made your way on to his lap and began leaving sloppy kisses against his nape. This beautiful man sitting in front of you was willing to do your homework in order to prevent you from having a mental breakdown. He was willing to sacrifice his time to work on an assignment that wasn’t his responsibility to take care of just so that you didn’t have to suffer. Honestly, what world war did you fight and win in your past life to be the one that receives Mark’s love every single day? Whatever it is that you did to be able to call Mark your boyfriend, you would do it again and again if it meant having him in each and every single lifetime.

“Fuck—babe—as good as that feels, I only have three hours—y/n—you know, I’m actually thinking about taking you on your offer—just settle for the F and I’ll get settled in between your pretty thighs—“ you couldn’t help but stifle back a giggle once you heard the soft whine fall from his lips after you got up from off his lap, but he was right. He was already doing your homework for you, the least you could do was sit on the side and prevent yourself from bothering him.

“Oh yeah—you’re definitely taking me down your throat as soon as I turn in this paper. Now do as I said and sit down on the bed. Your presence alone is such a distraction and fuck—I’ve been hard since this morning when you walked out in my shirt. Damnit y/n—I really want to have my way with you right now. Please use this experience for future reference. I can’t believe I’m being cockblocked by a research paper of all things.”

You watched as Mark quickly skimmed through the rubric; you knew your boyfriend wanted to make sure he understood the material before typing out a bunch of nonsense. The last thing he needed was to spend all this time and effort looking for resources, citing them and looking for both spelling and grammatical errors only to earn you a bad grade. If Mark wasn’t there and you just so happened to find out about the essay, you wouldn’t have even attempted to write anything.

Your mindset in college was that if it seemed impossible, you would just give up on it entirely. Mark’s mindset however, was more realistic and you wished you had the motivation and enthusiasm that seemed to live in his bloodstream. Watching him so focused as he typed away like nothing was such an inspiring sight. English was one of your boyfriend’s favorite subjects; he loved reading all kinds of books—from murder mystery to comics and romance novels, Mark always preferred reading over watching a movie or television shows.

But, if there was anything he enjoyed more than reading, it was writing. Normally, the day his professor would assign him an essay, proposal, research paper or journal entry was the same day he would complete it and turn it it. There had to be something wrong with him. What person in their right mind genuinely enjoyed writing thousands of words, making sure there weren’t any errors and that the paper in its entirety actually made sense? You knew not to bother him, but you couldn’t help staring at him in all his handsome glory. His brows were furrowed and he began biting his lip in concentration; you didn’t think it was possible for someone to look like a model straight from an ad or a magazine while typing out an English paper.

“Can I get you something to eat or drink babe?” He quickly shook his head in disagreement without even looking up—he was too focused in whatever it was he could be typing.

“I think I need a couple of kisses though, you know—to help me reenergize.” You playfully rolled your eyes at his cheeky request before getting up and placing a few soft kisses against his mouth.

“So how’s it coming out?” He scrunched his nose before giving you a slight shrug.

“If I’m being honest, this probably isn’t my best work, but I’m sure it’s fine. I’m almost done by the way—so I’ll have you look it over to make sure it’s to your liking and then you can turn it in. Maybe you should start preparing your gratuity and tie your hair up. Might as well take your pants off while you’re at it—ow! I’d be careful if I were you baby. I might just replace your name with mine and confuse the shit out of your professor—yeah, that’s what I thought. Now, be a good girl and return back to bed.”

As much as you wanted to continue messing around with him; only because you were enjoying how demanding he would get when he was under stress, you knew better than to distract him. You decided to find something else to occupy yourself with as Mark returned to typing profusely at your laptop. It was extremely fascinating how he didn’t even take a second to think about what to write. The words seemed to just flow out of his brain like it was the easiest thing in the world and you were growing envious of his ability to come out with such quality and detailed work in such a small amount of time.

Around twenty minutes later, Mark let out a sigh of relief and brought his hands behind his back—a sign that he was finally finished. He motioned for you to walk over to your desk and had you sit on his lap. Out of habit, he snaked his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your shoulder; wanting to be as close to you as possible.

“Ten pages, twelve sources and it’s only 9:15. Tell me what you think baby.”

Right as you finished reading just the first paragraph alone, you were at a loss for words. Even if you were to start writing this paper when you first received the assignment from your professor, you were sure nothing you could write would be at least half as amazing as this paper was. It wasn’t repetitive—nor did he use nonsense words or anything you were sure you probably would have added in. He put all his sources in alphabetical order and inserted page numbers at the bottom of each page.

You could see why Mark’s previous English professor had asked him on multiple occasions to be her TA. The word brilliant wasn’t even enough to describe the kind of student Mark was. For someone who never really cared about reading English papers; whether it was an assignment for class, or when you had to give constructive criticism on one of your fellow classmate’s work, you would always skim through their essays—but you found yourself reading each and every single word Mark had typed out. His essay had you hooked; it was one of those writings that you were sure anyone would actually enjoy having to read. How was he able to finish all of that so quickly? By the end of it, you were in tears and you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt Mark giggle in to your neck.

“Why are you crying Bub? I don’t think what I’ve written is at all that depressing. I literally wrote about biodegradation and how to save the earth—“

You didn’t give him any chance to continue his explanation as you roughly smashed your lips against his. Mark did so many things for you on a daily basis. He didn’t have to say he loved you for you to know that he did—his actions spoke for him. Knowing how most guys could be, you were sure no boyfriend would waste his time completing an assignment, especially one so time consuming needed all your knowledge and effort—for his girlfriend.

College was rough on everyone; so to take on something you thought was extremely difficult in order to prevent you from stressing out more than you already were—it made tears fall from the brim of your eyelids. You continued your ministrations, licking his lips and bringing both the bottom and the top in between your teeth before sucking on his tongue. Feeling him hum in to your mouth sent warmth to your core. In your relationship, you were the more extroverted and talkative one. You could go on and on about any subject you were passionate about.

However, just like Mark; you were more about actions than words—mainly because you felt like there weren’t enough words in the English dictionary to actually form sentences that would describe just how much you loved Mark wholeheartedly and exactly what he meant to you. When you felt his excitement press up against your ass, you knew what was right about to happen; but you wanted him to know verbally how grateful you were for him before showing him physically.

“Fuck—how did you—what kind of drug are you on Mark? That was one of the best essays I’ve ever read. There’s no way my professor is going to believe I wrote that. This is honors worthy—you’re—I can’t even find a word good enough to describe you. Otherworldly? Wonderful? Perfect? I love you so much Mark. Fuck, do I love you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t know what I did to have you in my life, but I would do it again and again to have you forever. I know you hate when I say this, but it’s the truth baby—I really don’t deserve you. Thank you, not just for typing this essay—fuck I still can’t even process this entire situation you need to sign up for scholarships or some shit you are so fucking intelligent and such a hardworking student. But—thank you for loving me. You really are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I am forever grateful for whoever it was that decided to bless me with you as my soulmate. I love you Mark Tuan.” His wide grin and the way he looked at you so adoringly made your heart melt.

“I’d do anything for you—you know that baby. It’s just—seeing you so distressed—so frustrated and unhappy with school, watching you overwork yourself to the bone—it fucking sucks. Especially when I see you beating yourself up over grades you have no control over. I know you try your best in every single thing that you do and I know that it’s easy to forget some important things and fall behind, but I will always be there to catch you—and to assure you that everything is going to be okay. You’re my person y/n—it’s my life duty to take care of you. However—don’t get used to this baby, as much as I love you—trust me—I love you with every breath I take and with every beat of my heart—but shit, that was rough. Oh—and I never want to hear you say you don’t deserve me ever again. You take care of me just as much as I take care of you. It’s a team effort babe. Now, with that being said, you caused a big problem in my pants over half an hour ago and I think it’s time that you solved it.”

[shinneth]

Spill the tea on Stevinel (just because I saw one for conniverse) And yes, I'm not on Anonymous. Because I'm a proud stevinel shipper and no one's going to stop me from loving it, also your blog is cool

And you know what? That’s the right attitude to have! People should be free to express what they ship without shielding themselves with anonymity. I don’t blame the people that do these days - antis are fucking dangerous people - but goddamn, people. It’s fiction. 

So I commend you for shipping Stevinel openly and proudly! Hard to believe it’s actually considered a bold and brave move just to be open and honest about harmless preferences these days. 

That said, I’m sorry it took so long to get to this. I felt you deserved an epic, given how unexpectedly successful my tirade on why Connverse is a shit ship with an undeserved golden reputation was...

But the truth is, even though I’m very much a Stevinel shipper, it’s definitely not my OTP.

And it’s very tricky for me to figure out how to spill the tea on Stevinel in a way that’s distinct from me doing the same with Stevidot.

Because, well, let’s face it: these two ships, beyond being very similar in nature, have also endured identical hardships from the fandom.

All the death threats Stevinel fans get from the raging antis for daring to ship something so “problematic/immoral/wrong/not Connverse”? 

Stevidot fans have been treated that exact same way for years. And still are. For the exact same reasons.

Both Stevinel and Stevidot shippers are valid, but the fandom constantly turns a blind eye to Rebecca Sugar’s husband who also worked on the show outright saying gem x human ships are FAIR GAME.

And also turn a blind eye to the recent interview where Sugar herself stated that the gems are more like AI - a conclusion I and many others deduced ages ago just by how gems are portrayed in the show. 

But by god, they’ll hang on Matt Burnett’s word that “grown gems” are a thing even though canon itself explicitly states that GEMS DON’T GROW.

Just like how despite Maya Petersen outright admitting that Aroace!Peridot is just her headcanon, people treat it like the fucking gospel now.

(no offense to anyone who’s committed to that particular headcanon - I just don’t really see it with Peridot in particular and it’s really fucking stupid to claim it’s 100% canon when the source herself explicitly said it wasn’t)

Well, it’s canon that Spinel kissed Steven and he didn’t turn into dust. And Steven was already well on his way down the path of self-destruction at this point in time; he would’ve gone monster whether this happened or not. 

Also, how often does a character get the “heart eyes” expression for just a platonic love?

If there was ever a scene where Connie or Steven had heart eyes, no doubt most of the pricks would scream “YES!!!! UNDENIABLE PROOF THAT THEY’RE IN LOVE!!!”

But when it’s Spinel, suddenly it doesn’t count? Really?

How convenient.

There’s also the stupid idiots who saw the conceptual development of Spinel in that movie artbook and saw some vague color keys during a conceptual stage and claimed that Spinel was “family” to Steven - which of course must mean “related” and therefore must make Stevinel an incestuous relationship! 

Which is bull. Also shit. It’s already common knowledge that gems don’t work that way. She was the designated playmate for Steven’s mother. Nothing more.

Of course, most gems who come in Steven’s orbit end up being sort of a family to him. 

But everyone seems to have this impression that a gem being part of Steven’s family means they become additional surrogate mom figures.

And yeah no, that’s dumb and wrong. Garnet and Pearl are really the only ones I’d consider actual “mom figures”. Amethyst’s more of a big sister. Everyone else can vary depending on perspective, but I’ve never seen any of the other gems as anything close to a motherly figure for Steven. Any time I see shit about Lapis or Peridot being regarded as “gem moms” to Steven, I laugh my ass off. They are so not moms or any kind of authoritative figure for Steven. Bismuth at best is more of the fun-loving aunt.

There are more roles in a family than just a paternal/maternal substitute. In fact, I believe Steven has considered Connie to be part of his family well before they hooked up in canon.

(as a side-note, I love how people who are allegedly SO squicked out by age gap ships totally pardon Connverse - you guys realize Connie was 14 in Future, right? Possibly 15 depending on the time scale? There’s gonna be a point in the relative near future where Steven is 18 and Connie isn’t - why don’t I hear you assholes angst about that “atrocity”, huh?)

I honestly do consider the CG B-Team as part of Steven’s family, but more in a loose sense. But by that same token, I consider Connie as part of the family in a similar manner. 

Especially since Spinel was shoved off to live with the Diamonds after the movie - and the Diamonds themselves have a very fucked-up relationship among themselves to the point where I honestly hesitate to put a familial label on it at all - it’s extra stupid to try and paint Stevinel as something with incestuous overtones when it clearly doesn’t. 

Spinel does happen to be a perfect representative of how full of shit antis are about age gaps, though. 

While Peridot’s age has always been left vague, we know she can’t be 5K or older due to being an Era 2 gem. Due to her utter lack of knowledge of Era 1 events (or being completely sold on the Diamonds’ propaganda) and her general inexperience with her own equipment - as well as her ability to quickly adapt to Earth - I always headcanoned Peridot as being especially young. Like, younger-than-Steven young. 

Mostly because Peri’s attitude reeks of Gen Z - also because it’d be nice for a change to have a gem who isn’t thousands of years old like literally every other noteworthy gem in the show. We need a representative of gemkind who hasn’t been around for ages. 

Of course, Spinel’s backstory proves that even if they went the boring route and made Peridot thousands of years old just like everybody else, it wouldn’t really mean much of anything. She’d be no less of a valid romantic option for Steven regardless of age.

Spinel is several thousands of years old, and the movie explicitly shows us what exactly that amounts to for a gem.

As I mentioned earlier, Sugar sees the gems more like AI. Spinel remaining in one spot for several millennnia, not moving an inch, not speaking to anyone, not seeing anything other than a gradually-deteriorating garden... yeah, and somehow, despite all that, Spinel’s still very childlike per her design. She had literally no room to mature or accrue life experience: Pink Diamond basically hit the pause button on her entire life.

Even though she’s several thousands of years old, through no fault of her own, Spinel’s mindset remained unchanged. It wasn’t until Steven inadvertently came into her life that she became twisted - understandably so after finally realizing she’d been abandoned by Pink. 

But she still didn’t completely lose her true self. Spinel realized on her own that Steven didn’t deserve to suffer just because his mom was a negligent asshole. She also came to understand on her own that unlike Pink, Steven truly cared for her no matter what shit she threw his way. 

Steven could give Spinel the care and attention she always deserved; something Pink totally denied her while deceiving her into wasting away with her abandoned playground. He could be the one to give Spinel the love she always deserved but was either denied or manipulated into believing she got. 

Honestly, this is more than enough to warrant building something more between these two. 

The age gap is irrelevant. The two have chemistry. They aren’t related.

(and honestly, this is fiction - these details are largely irrelevant in fiction anyway. I’m only bringing it up because it doesn’t take much research to find that every label the antis put on Stevinel is complete inaccurate Diamond propaganda bullshit)

Stevinel is FINE. Let people ship it if they want to!

Um... is that good enough?

Honestly, I’m not gonna lie: Stevinel’s pretty goddamned popular; so much that I’m a bit jealous of it. I enjoy the ship a lot, but I’ve been keeping it at arms-length all this time. I’m looking forward to when I can write my own brand of Stevinel interaction when I get to introduce her in my series, but that’s still a while to go. 

Also, there’s almost zero Peridot/Spinel material, let alone my Peridot/Steven/Spinel OT3. And Stevidot material is still hard to come by; I’m noticing Stevinel’s still quite a bit easier to find by comparison. 

So in a way, I feel many other unpopular ships deserve some tea-spilling sooner than Stevinel because Stevinel at least still has a sizable fanbase. Same can’t really be said for a lot of similar ships here...

A lot of this can apply to other Steven x gem ships, honestly. 

But I guess I haven’t been showing Stevinel much proper love due to my devotion to my superior SU-AU. I can only hope I can soon reach a point where I can have GA Spinel react to Steven, since their dynamic will be significantly different.

(and then one day I’ll finally make the Peridot/Steven/Spinel OT3 fic!!)

Until then, I can only hope I did Stevinel some justice here!

[spideymarvelws]

Trust Issues

Peter Parker x (Kinda)Fem!Villain!Reader

Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist

Summary: Peter has a set mindset when it comes to the people he spends his day to day life with both in his real life and his superhero life. But feelings change all the time, especially when those feeling come from the one’s closest to you.

Warnings: hella angst, some blood, peter’s an angry boi, a few curse words here and there 

Word count: 1.4k

...

Peter Parker was aware of his black and white thought process. In his mind, his morals and what other people did were either right or wrong. He never considered the grey area in between to make it easier when it came to taking down the criminals of New York. It also saved is own sanity and mind from overthinking in the process. 

Yes, it may be selfish and cruel, but so is causing mayhem and chaos for no reason. At least, thats’s what he always told himself anyways. 

But the scene in front of his was making him question if his way of thinking was always completely right.

“Please, you have to believe me!” You pleaded, tugging at the webs that held your hands behind your back, “If we don’t get out of here, if we don’t find him, he’s going to destroy this entire city!”

You shuffled around, trying to get a little comfortable from your seated position on the concrete floor you woke up on.

“How do I know that I could trust you?” Peter asked, still in his Spiderman suit but with his mask off, held his hand. He crossing his arms over his chest, glancing over at ned who was somewhat hidden in the shadows of the dank room, typing away on his laptop, “How do I know this isn’t just another lie to help you escape,”

You raised your head up, blood running down the side. The desperation, pain and guilt shown on your face was overwhelming, causing Peter to look away. He wanted so desperately to gather you into his arms, tell you everything was going to be okay and that he’d help you in anyway that he could.

But things weren’t that simple, not anymore. You had betrayed him, betrayed his trust, betrayed his friendship. You fought against him on multiple occasions knowing that it was him and yet had the audacity to walk besides him in the school hallways, posing as his ‘friend’

“Please, Peter,” you whimpered, wincing when you tried to move closer, “I promise I’ll explain everything later, but we have no time to-,”

“There is no ‘we’ anymore, Y/n,” Peter snapped, slowly walking towards you, “That ‘we’ ended when you took off that mask. That ‘we’ ended when you broke into stark tower multiple times and stole tech. And that ‘we’ ended when you started working fOR NORMAN FUCKING OSBORN!”

Peter was standing right in front of you looking down at your crumpled from, his face red with anger as he breathed heavily, letting out all the emotions he’s been bottling up for the past 24 hours.

“Peter,” you started cautiously, voice cracking with emotion, “I know you’re upset-“

“Upset?,” Peter scoffed, “Upset! I fucking trusted you! You were my friend, my best friend! I came to you when uncle ben died! I came to you when I fought the vulture! The first person I came to when I blipped back, WAS YOU!”

Peter started backing away, running his hand threw his already unruly hair. He passed his hands over his face, resting them on his hips, “Was all of this a lie?” He whispered, but loud enough for you to hear.

“Peter-“

“Was all of this some fucking sick lie Y/n?” Peter asked a little more strongly, holding on to breath.

You looked between his pupils, gulping visibly, trying to choke down a sob as you spoke as clearly as you could, “None of it was a lie Pete,” you formed a smile from the tears that threatened to fall, “God, none of it was fake, please, I’m telling you none of it was fake,” your eyes started watering when you looked back down to your lap, “None of it was ever fake,”

You didn’t respond, turning your head to the side to avoid his eye contact. 

“ANSWER ME!” He cried, walking up to you once again. This time bending down and grabbing the collar of your suit, pulling you closer to his face. You had no other choice but to look into his broken eyes, “Answer me goddammit!” he screamed, breaking at the seems.

Peter let go of your suit harshly. He stood up and walked to the other end of the room. His hand was in his hair once again, tugging at his roots, as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“Look,” you spoke softly, your voice slightly shaky, “I know what I did was wrong. I know that I’ve hurt people, including those outside this room,” you let out a cracked sigh, hoping that Peter wasn’t blocking your words out, “But everything started when I took the job to work for Oscorp, and even then my friendship with you, how I feel about you Peter, that never changed.”

Peter stayed motionless, his arms crossed like before but his back faced you. Yet, you still continued, “But right now, our feelings, our hurt, doesn’t matter. What matters now is that we stop him from finishing the serum and taking it himself, or else this entire city will fall, with us in it”

You still got now response.

“Pete, please,” you pleaded once again, not bothering to mask the tears that ran down your face anymore, “you have to believe me,”

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, turning back around, “You don’t deserve to call me that anymore,”

Before you could respond, Ned called Peter over, pointing at something on his computer screen. He hadn’t looked at you the entire time you were conscious, bringing you more guilt and pain than words could describe. They had a silent conversation, Peter occasionally glancing at you while ned kept his head down and focused on telling information he found.

Peter walked back up to you. You braced for the hard hitting words we was about to spew from his mouth but his voice was surprisingly calm and collected compared to his tone earlier.

“We have a hit on Osborn,” he said, looking back at ned, “He’s down in the sewers, near the end of the city.”

“That’s great,” you breathed, trying to choose your words wisely, “Yeah that great,” you felt a small amount of hope bubble in your chest.

Peter let out another deep sigh, staring down at the mask he held in his hands before looking back at you. He held your stare for a while, like he was trying to read your mind, get some sort of sense as to why you would do this, what horrible reason made you ever agree to intern at Oscorp and help along with his evil doing, but his mind went blank.

He was trying, trying so hard to sympathise with you. Trying so hard to believe every word that came out of your mouth and to believe that your entire friendship wasn’t built of of lies and manipulation. 

But he couldn’t do it, his mind wouldn’t allow it. You had broken his trust, something that he valued more that anything. You broke that, along with a piece of his heart.

Before he could shed any tears, he pulled his mask back on. He didn’t want to show any sign of weakness to you, not anymore. As he began walking away to the door of the warehouse to exit, you started to panic, “Peter wait! You can’t do this alone! You don’t know what you're up against!”

“Exactly why you should and will stay here,” he answered back coldly, “If you have anything to say, shout it out to ned, he’ll tell me through comms,” 

Peter froze as his hand held the handle, beckoning for you to continue.

“Norman Osborn is a force to be reckoned with, I’ve worked with him for months, I know the in and outs of his lab, the serum! You need me Peter, you can’t do this alone,” 

Peter opened the door roughly, the cold breeze from outside rushing into the the room. Before he could step out fully you pleaded once again.

“Peter,” you sobbed, “Please, don’t go alone. You’re going to get killed! Norman, he- he’s nothing like you’ve seen before.” you were met with silence once again, “please,” you sobbed, letting the tears you’ve been holding for the past how long you’ve been here out without care.

This time however, he didn’t respond. Instead, he walked out the door, slamming it harshly and swinging off into the dead of night, on his way to fight what might be his last battle, without you.

...

Peter Parker Taglist :

@jadegill​ @ietss​

[jamiedc-they-them]

Reckless Pride (Platonic)

hey can i request a dany x sibling!reader where r tells dany how coming to westeros was a bad idea, and that they'll follow her no matter what and then they're on raeghal when hes shot down and then idk angsty... B

Being twins was a thing that sometimes happened. It just was. Granted, with your family history, didn’t have the best expectations. But you and your twin sister broke them. Instead of fucking, you didn’t. Good job you.

You and Danny acted like actual siblings; none of those longing stares of that type of love. No, just sibling love between you both. You were both best friends rather than fuck buddies.

Still, your brother wasn’t the biggest fan of that. He hated that you both didn’t give him what he wanted. He wanted heirs with his blood. He wanted a throne for himself. That selfishness drove him. It drove him to lash out at you both and hate you both with a fiery (pun intended) fashion.

That was what led (other than just being twins) to you both being protective of the other. Danny more so as you held the more masculine tropes; anger, hate, vengeance, little emotional expression. Obviously, Danny was the other side of that coin.

So, when the chance came for your brother to get what he wanted; he took it instantly. He didn’t care that it meant selling your sister and being with those he deemed savages. Granted, their methods were wild and what not. But, to him, they were nothing more than pawns.

Danny and you saw some sort of humanity to them. Even if not much; you saw how much genuine care Drogo showed your sister. Even how seemed to keep on eye on you too (be that either by Danny’s request or otherwise). That definitely pissed your brother off.

“So, I see the little whore has got you under the Khal’s protection?” Your brother sneered as he entered your tent. While you had both once feared him (Danny still did) you had learnt how to piss him off and how to use it against him.

“Careful, brother. Reckless ambition normally ends in consequences they didn’t see coming.” You warned your brother. Danny entered the tent, so she heard your warning that was meant for your brother.

“Y/N!” She yelled out in concern as she ran to your side after your brother punched you. You had to admit, he did have a good punching arm on him.

She grabbed you as you tried to get back at him, barely holding you back. She kept a hand to your chest to keep you from creating more conflict and escalate things further than they already had been.

“Y/N calm down…calm down.” She whispered to you softly, but she was scared. She was scared for the both of you. As much as she didn’t care for her other brother. You were her best friend, her twin. You were someone who would her back and she would always have theirs.

No matter what.

 Your brother was a bother, a massive pain in the ass. And other words. Either way, when he came stumbling into the tent where a party was being held, you watched with calculating eyes. You watched as he went towards Danny (after finding her, of course) with a drunken stagger. Even then, you could tell that he was not in the best of mindsets (even at the best of times when it came to you both).

As soon as the sword was drawn, you started to walk over to help Danny out; however, Jorah stopped you and gave you a look that told you to calm down. Danny moved her eyes to you and slightly shook her head.

Her eyes gave you a simple message, “I’ve got this”

So, you watched as she stood up to face him with an apathetic look. She’d already eaten a heart and found a genuine connection with the Khal. Still, as a worried brother you watched your twin. You knew you both always felt fear for the other that one day you would lose them.

Still, you watched as your brother was brought to his knees and the Khal threw gold into the pot that was bubbling away happily. Danny held out her hand for you; you took it and stood next to her. For once, the roles were flipped. You were the emotional one whereas Danny kept her’s in check.

“He won’t hurt us anymore.” She promised you and gave your hand a squeeze as said person’s screams echoed for a moment before gong still. A BANG! Made you look and see the melted gold on his head.

 You were in your own tent. For once in what had been a long time, you were speechless and slightly scared. Don’t get it wrong, your brother deserved what had happened to him. It was just…the look on her face. Something had been opened; a door you were sure she was going to walk through herself. A door to a dark place. A place where anything would be done to get what she wanted.

You closed your eyes, hating yourself for thinking that about your sister that had been nothing but kind to you since birth. Then again, everyone had a darkness inside of them. Everything was capable of dropping the deep end and never coming back from it.

Although you hated it, you knew your mind had a point. You knew that something had snapped inside Danny. It was a subtle shift.

You closed your eyes and let out a breath. If you were going to help her not fall down the path that your brother fell down; you were going to have to act now rather then later.

So, you left to find your sister to do the first step in a plan you were making up the whole time.

Step 1: Fight for her in her army while also being a trusted advisor to her. That way you could keep an eye on the two fronts.

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You were 8 when your brother first hit you. It was out of defiance of something about your sister (your brain made you forget what the topic was) and the next moment, a hand struck your face and you fell to the ground.

“Y/N!” A same aged Daenerys ran over to you as she yelled your name in pure concern.

“Step away from him, whore!” He yelled; that boiled rage in you. You swung at him and caught him off guard. As soon as you did, you grabbed Danny’s hand and ran with her.

You entered his room and hid under his bed. You knew he’d check your rooms first and never suspect his own to be the chosen hiding place.

“Why did you do that?” She asked you with an unsteady pace. Her breathing was picking up, she was panicking.

“I had to protect you and defend you –”

“But, look at has happened to you in the process –” She lightly pressed a hand to your bruised cheek. You grabbed the hand and lowered it slowly.

“I’m fine.”

“Just…don’t be so reckless like that, again.” She warned you.

Funny that she was the one who gave you that warning back then.

 Danny held some resistance, but she let you fight. She seemed to see that you were better suited out there anyway than cooped up inside.

So, with Jorah as a mentor, you learnt how to properly fight. Even the Khal gave you private ones. So, you could fight on two fronts: honourable and not honourable. To you, it didn’t matter if it was honourable or not, it just mattered you won, and the opponent didn’t. You weren’t much of a believer in a life after this one; so, killing someone with non-honourable way wouldn’t exactly matter if you made it through and not them.

So, you learnt what you could form the two whiles being at Danny’s side when she needed you. Being an ear to guide her and a brother to her when she needed that support. One of those times was when the Khal had sadly passed.

You had started a genuine friendship with him. He called you brother on a few occasions and fought with you when you needed backup. He loved you like his own. Obviously, getting along with him made Danny happy. She wanted her twin to be involved with her goal as much as possible. As of now, you were the only human of her family that was still around. So, she wanted you in her life, even if she worried about you going out on these missions

Now he was gone, and there was nothing either of you could do about it.

 “Danny –” You said softly as you entered her tent.

“Not now, Y/N.” She said, stopping you before you said anything.

“Danny –” You tried again, knowing that she shouldn’t have to go through this alone.

“I said not now!” She yelled at you in raw, unfiltered grief.

You didn’t say her name again, you only took her in your arms and held on tight as she tried to fight back. In the end, however, she sunk into them and cried. Just let it all out, all the grief and pain. She cried, sobbing into you.

You didn’t say anything, you just let her cry. You knew words wouldn’t help her through this moment. She had lost a child and lover near enough in the same moment. You knew this would only drag her further through that open door. But you knew that bringing it up now would not be a good idea. You knew that it was better to leave it for now.

For both of your sakes.

 “Sorry.” Danny said softly as you flinched away from the sting that trying to clean your cut had caused. Neither of you wanted the other in pain. Yet, here you were, yet again after getting your ass kicked by your brother for something or other. It wasn’t like he needed a reason to hate you both anymore.

It just seemed like merely existing and being a threat to what he wanted was enough justification for him to hit you and do whatever monstrous acts he did to Danny. You didn’t want to even think about that.

“It’s ok. Just stung is all.” You told her. She, in a gentler way, dabbed the cloth on your face.

“It’s not ok. One of these days, you’re going to get yourself killed because of this.” Thinking about it now, you would’ve laughed.

“You know we can just put a heated blade to it, right?” You said to her, moving on from the confrontational words.

“What?” She asked, in a moment of shock and concern. However, after a beat, she understood what you meant and went to fetch one. You grabbed her hand and showed her one you always seemed to keep in case of emergency.

She didn’t confront you on that, only left to heat it to use. She could only theorize that you would use it on your brother when you had the chance. Although, the chances of that getting you killed shot right up.

If she was scared for you before, after that day she was terrified.

 Meereen was another piece to her puzzle to gain control. She already had a footing; she’d burned slavers and freed slaves. But you were worried, very worried. But, right now, a rider from the city was coming out to face you all.

Daenerys turned to you all, the three of you (a new friend being the third) all putting yourself up as bait to go after him.

“I’ll go.” You said, and Danny couldn’t hold her worry as she instantly answered you. She was calm with the other two. Then it came to you.

“No.” You, her best friend since birth, her twin. She needed you with her. She wanted you to be there at the end.

“Danny, I can beat him.” You assured your sister.

“I said no.” She said, more firmly. For a moment, the two saw a more vulnerable side to her. A side she tried to hide. With them, she was calmer. But, with you, it was raw, sisterly, instinct driving her here.

“Let him.” She looked to Jorah with shock. Even if she just called him one of her closest friends. IN this moment, she couldn’t look angrier and more disappointed in him.

She looked at you, seeing the confidence in your eyes. She knew, in that moment, that you weren’t the children either of you were now. You were a fighter. You always had been.

 You let him come to you, something your new friend had taught you. Instead of going on the attack, you’d play defence and then go on the attack.

You let him rid, let him get his hopes up that he would win. He got closer, and closer, and closer, and closer. He rods more and more, eager to reach you and then to kill you. To prove himself to his city.

The next moment, his horse fell to the ground. He tumbled to it, rolling in his armour.

You approached him, blank face as you did so. Danny watched you with an impressed look. As you got to him, you only stabbed him and ended his life.

Was it fair? No. But, you were alive, and you weren’t.

Danny had sent broken cuffs to the walls of the city before the fight. You saw it in her eyes. The truth she carried, that she had freed them.

But you also saw the lie as well, that it meant all her actions were in the right.

 “You bitch!” Your brother yelled as he went to strike Danny. You ran up to him, pushing him away. He turned his gaze onto you.

“No, Y/N stop! Stop! Leave him, Y/N. Leave him. It’s ok –”

“It’s not ok!” You yelled; your brother only watched you with fiery eyes.

“I know. But you must leave it. Please –”

“You don’t deserve this.” You said, keeping your gaze on your brother.

“Maybe. But, leave it.” You looked at her, “Leave it. I’ll see you after.” You were speechless. Your sister, as much as she hated it, was allowing it.

But what had hurt you was that it came out as an order; no longer a plead.

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You had the city, and she was loved. That was the issue, she was loved. No one was challenging her. It was just what she said goes. Granted, she was the queen and all that. But any argument that didn’t go her way, she walked away or merely didn’t change her view until someone else did.

If no one else was going to do it, you were.  

“No.” Now you were firm.

“Y/N –” Danny tried to say, but you continued.

“Your going to marry one of the bastards?!” You were loud; the other ones in the room only watched you both.

“I need to keep control –”

“Through marriage?! To him of all people!” She had seen you angry before; but it had never been directed at herself. She started to see her older brother in this moment, not her twin brother.

“I’m losing control. It’s either slavers rioting or the slaves themselves. Some want chains, others don’t. What would you have me do?!”

“Listen to us! Ask us for fucking advice! And actually listen! Instead of dismissing or argue. For –” You stopped yourself before you would cross some kind of line, “Just, why have us if all you want from us is for us to saw you’re right and move on.”

Your words got to her; they struck a chord with her. If more than anything, they hurt her. But, to you, this is what you needed. It was what she needed. She needed someone to calm her down. She was starting to lose control and was willing to do anything to hold onto it.

Yes, your brother was a monster, no question. Now, however, she was the one who was going to a dark place to keep some kind of peace and control.

Yes, this place was vital in some way as a home and place to stay for now. But her end goal was to go across the sea and take over the seven kingdoms. It wasn’t to stay here, so why did it matter if you did or not have this place.

“They want chains. Let them –” She looked at you in shock.

“Y/N…” She drifted off, looking at you in disappointment. She was about to go into queen mode again when you spoke up before she could.

“What would Viserys do in this situation? If he was still here? If he was still in control?” You asked. Now, you had crossed that line.

“Get out.” She had never used him against you. Now you were doing that to her. She wouldn’t let it slide.

You went to talk, probably to try and take it back. But she had heard enough already, “I said. Get. Out.” She was definitely in queen mode now. Now, you were merely a soldier. You weren’t an advisor. You were a soldier in her command.

 “Are you ok?” You asked your sister as she walked into the room; she didn’t answer, only placing herself at the balcony.

“Come on Danny, talk to me.” You begged her, standing next to her.

She only looked out at the view. Yes, what he did was horrible. But –

“You can’t keep doing that.” She said, softer than she had before.

“I can’t just let him hurt you.”

“You can help me after, just like I do you.”

“Did he tell you to –”

“No! I hate him just as much as you do,” She turned to you, “But, angering him more does not do anything but make it worse. I need you to stop doing that.” Now she was the one who was reckless.

She saw the conflict on your face. She saw the dialogue you were having with yourself internally. Like most twins, you could read each other easily.

“I don’t like it either,” She told you, softening her voice more, “But…. just do this. For me, please?” She asked, taking your hand in her own.

 “We have a mission from our Queen. One she wants just for yourself.” Grey Worm said as he approached you. He had respected you. Only now, he looked at you as another of his men. He cared for them, and you. But you were ultimately at the beck and call of your leader.

“Why just me?” You asked as you stood up.

“She ordered it. We don’t question her.” God, it sounded like a cult. Yes, you knew the importance of armies and having a good amount of control; and you knew that they were in debt for her for being saved by her.

However, you knew that she had fully gone through that door. Now she had a place to live. She was close to being able to go over to the other side of this world to go after an Iron chair. You were sure she was starting to become disillusioned with her family name. A lifetime of abuse and powerlessness mixed with loneliness was driving her now.

It seemed she was even willing to lose you both in death in bond wise. Seemed she was risking anything and everything to get to this throne now.

You were sure that if you said no, you’d either be arrested or killed. So, with no other choice, you took the job.

 You could see why she gave it to you. It was a hit job; something that been attempted on her a few times. Even yourself. Now, she was using those tactics on her enemies. And sending in a person she used to see as a brother rather than another name of a list of people to send out to die.

So, you went. It was a slaver, a bad person, you wouldn’t debate that at all. He was a man who owned people and hurt them if they disobeyed. Now, you were continuing that reckless cycle of death and punishment. Only now you were a free person doing the killing.

The man tried to fight back; tried being the key word. You merely slashed him in the belly and then snapped his neck. It was quick, simple even.

 The next time you helped her heal the physical wounds, she was crying too much to talk. You weren’t going to hold it against her, though. You knew it was bad what he did. Now, however, you just had to help her heal physically. You knew mentally would be another ball game entirely.

“Tha—Thank you.” Daenerys said to you with a stutter.

“Of course, we need to watch out for each other, right?”

She nodded, “Right.”

 “Is it done?” Your queen asked you as you walked back into the main room. For once, you were at the entrance and being the one who was scrutinised by her rather than you are being by her side and trying to find the truth yourself.

“Yes, my Queen.” You answered, making sure to hold the last word to make your feelings on this known.

She looked you up and down, “Very well.” She said, dismissing you.

 A few months of fight after fight, you had gone across the sea. But, at this point, your dynamic was almost completely void. You had barely spoken, neither of you trying to patch things up where you left off.

During your visit, you were called, “My lord” even if you weren’t looking like one in any way, shape or form.

Hell, even the way you held yourself argued otherwise. You only spoke when spoken to and not at any other point.

You looked and acted hollowed.

It had gained the attention of Jon Snow. Who, while he had begun some sort of dynamic with Daenerys; with you he had become a friend to you? He had taken the time of day to speak to you and bond with you. Plus, a trip beyond the wall helped you get closer as well. If it wasn’t for him, you’d have been dead a few times.

 When you got to Winterfell, it led to Arya Stark finding you an intriguing person. Someone called a lord but held themselves as anything but.

“Place at the table free?” She asked as she had approached you silently.  You had been sat at a table with others, but you were one your own for the most part.

“Course, my lady.”  You answered as if an autopilot.

She sat, liking the silence for a moment. She hated small talk as of late. Seemed you did too, that just made her more interested in talking to you.

“Why aren’t you up with your sister?” She asked you, gesturing her head towards the woman in white.

“Not really much of a sister now.” She looked at you with a confused look.

“Then what is she?”

“A queen to anyone else who’d asks it.” She nodded but continued her question.

“And to you?”

“Just like the rest of them. Someone willing to risk it all for something so tame.” You were honest, it had been the first time you’d told anyone out loud.

“She seems lonely.” She commented.

“Yeah, well. Accidentally push some people away in an attempt to focus on what you want, that’s what you get.” Arya was more intrigued now. You were honest and not a bullshitter. You had survived the game so far, so you had to be doing something right.

She decided she liked you and sat with you on the table.

 Daenerys had spotted you talking to the young Stark. She watched you as you smiled and spoke. She missed you, she did. She missed having you by her side to support her as an advisor/soldier/brother. Now it was just the middle option.

She wanted to apologise, she wanted to get things back on track. But she wouldn’t show weakness here. Not in front of these people who would soon be under her rule.

 The battle against the dead had come and gone. A night that had taken a lot of lives, almost yours in certain situations. Arya and you had stuck together during it apart from the end.

It had, however, taken a close friend of yours, Jorah.

At the funeral, Arya stood with you as you watched your friend be burned and put to whatever came next.

 As you walked off, you felt a hand grab your arm. You turned, seeing your sister look at you as something other than a soldier for once. You caught Arya’s eye, and nodded for her to continue. She did as ask.

“What, my queen?” She hated the way you threw the name back at her. She was hurting, as were you. But, right now, she wanted; no, she needed support.

“When we go to Kings Landing, I want you to ride Raeghal.” You watched her with mistrust, as if she could be lying to you. She hated it, “I need us to be ok.” She said, maybe it was the grief, the hurt of losing a close friend that made her not look at you as a soldier anymore.

Despite the anger you carried, you nodded. It was something. Something was better than nothing.

 So, you rode. Well, you flew, but still. You flew for what you were sure was your first time. But you seemed to be quite adept at it, despite this fact. As you did, Danny watched with a happy smile. Despite the pain of losing Jorah, having you be happy for once was enough to help for a little.

That was until the spike went through Raeghal. She could only watch as you fell on top of the dragon.

“NO!” She cried out as she watched you hit the waves below. She rose up to the clouds, then went straight down.

She was gong to make them pay.

 She had lost her best friend next. The losses were piling up, she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She couldn’t lose anyone else. Well, that was mainly because there was no one else. There was no one else left to lose really.

Then her heart hurt more at the last memory of you being you falling towards the ocean.

So, as Jon approached to try and get her to spare the people of Kings Landing. She only had one thing to say.

“Would they have shown Y/N the same mercy if they had him at their mercy?” Jon knew the answer just as well as she did.

No; no, they wouldn’t. So, why should she?

 You washed up on shore. How? You had no idea; mainly just pure dumb luck had brought you there. You were alive though, that was what had mattered.

You closed your eyes a moment. You could just stop here; you could just stop and give up and let yourself die. You could just let your sister have her way in the dark door that she was shutting behind her now.

 “Danny.” You said as you got ready to leave with the Dothraki. She was terrified, something you understood. You felt your own fear for her. But it was just another dumb and reckless move your brother was making in a mere hope that he could reach his end point.

“Yes, Y/N?” She asked you in a soft, almost childlike voice.

“Look at me,” She did so,” Look, whatever happens. I’ll be there, ok? I’ll be there until the end.” You promised her.

 No, you couldn’t stop. Especially not when you heard screams in the distance.

You stood to your feet, saying, “fuck the armour” and ditching it. It was ruined anyway and would only run you down.

If there was one thing those that taught you to fight had done, it was show you how to conserve energy the best way possible.

So, you ran, you ran as fast as you could towards the screams.

The screams that you knew had been caused by your sister.

 You saw the burning gate of Kings Landing as your own lungs burned. How you made it? You didn’t know, you were just glad you did.

It was then you saw a horse coming out of the gate, a white one. It was one that belonged to Arya Stark. You continued onward to try and catch up with your friend.

“ARYA!” You yelled to her. Somehow, your voice reached her, and she stopped, before meeting your gaze. She dropped from her horse and ran to you, you both embraced each other.

“I thought we lost you.” She said, in a voice that was different to what you were used to. It was scared, an almost childlike one. It reminded you of your sister. The one who had the firepower to burn the city and do the damage that had been caused.

“Are you alright?” You asked her as you gave her a once over. She did the same to you.

“Are you?” She asked, concern dripping from her words.

“I’ll live,” Your words gave her some ease, “Now, where’s my sister?”

 She was giving a speech, your apparent death apparently meaning nothing at this point. She stood, talking about all the chaos as if it was the plan all along, as if it was a victory rather than what it actually was.

A defeat. A massacre.

You moved forward, only for your friend to grab your arm. You looked to her and she shook her head.

“You can’t go out there, you’ll be killed.” She warned you.

“I have to stop her.” You vowed. She nodded, agreeing with you; but she then nodded her head behind you. Turning, you saw Jon walking up to her.

“Come on, we’ll go around. I used to run around this area when I visited. We can take a shortcut to get up there without getting caught.” You nodded, following your friend as she did so.

 “I have to get in there.” You said as you walked between the two siblings. Jon looked at you with shock, but it died when he looked at Danny once again. The woman he loved and his aunt. It was complicated. So, maybe the cycle wasn’t completely broken.

“I don’t know how to do it…” He drifted off. You saw his conflict first-hand; you looked at Arya. She seemed to be more guarded in his moment, but she softened as she saw your sad look and nodded. You gave your own, knowing what you had to do.

“I’ll do it.” You said, Arya gave you a blade to do it with.

You looked to Jon, giving him a pat on the arm and leaving to do what needed to be done.

 “Y/N…” You heard Danny say as you looked up to meet her gaze. Her eyes watered as she looked at you with that sisterly love that had been lost so long ago and replaced with either apathy or slight care.

“Did you even look for me?” You asked, for once not feeling selfish in your question.

“I had a war to win, Y/N. And, look, we made it. We did it. Father’s stories weren’t true…. But we won!” She was excited; you’d never seen her this excited apart from when you were both younger and heard those stories.

Now, this seemed to be the end of that story.

“One last hug before you take the seat?” You asked, trying to keep your voice from cracking. She obliged your request, running over and hugging you tightly. It had been the first hug you’d have in so long.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I did that to you. You’re my brother. The good one. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that.” She went to say more, but a knife was plunged into her before she could do so.

She gasped, eyes wide staring back at you as she looked at the blade in her stomach. You held her shoulder’s as you laid her down on the ground. She looked at you with that childlike innocence for a moment longer.

“I’m sorry.” Was your last exchange before her breathing stopped and her eyes glazed over?

You let out a sob as you fell back. You had done what had been needed; you stopped the cycle of death and destruction. You had stopped her reckless moves, only if a little too late.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, you saw Jon above you. He held out an arm for you. You took it and was hauled to your feet.

“Give me the knife,” You looked at him with confusion, “I’ll take the fall,” You went to answer back; to argue your case when he continued, “You’ve done so much for family in a short space of time. You brought Arya back to her humanity. And you helped us when needed. Just…let me help you this time.” So, you handed him the blade, uttering only two words.

“Thank you.”

 You stayed out of the politics, but Jon was being banished beyond the wall. However, it was a fit thing for the man, he was always better there anyway.

Oddly, you were invited by the Stark’s to see them off. Seems Jon’s words were right.

So, you stood to the side as you watched the siblings see each other off. Even if seeing it hurt you a little. Once they had all said their own goodbyes, they looked to you and silently told you to approach.

“I almost lost myself,” Arya admitted, “But, meeting you helped show me the path I was on and what it could lead to. Thank you for that, Y/N.” She said as she hugged your firmly. She seemed to sense your grief as well, as she tightened it a little more at your tense reaction.

“I’ll be sure to write to you and let you know what I found.” She told you as she pulled away.

Sansa gave you a smile, “Winterfell is always going to be open to you, my lord. You’re welcome any time you’d want to visit. We’re in a great debt to you.” She said, you smiled gratefully at the offer; you bowed to her to show your gratitude.

Bran just watched; you didn’t really have much to say to the new king. Besides, he probably saw it coming anyway.

Jon looked at you with mixed emotions; not at yourself, of course; but at your actions, “You can still come, if you want.” He offered you, sweetly.

“I can’t,” You declined, “I need to fix this. I couldn’t stop her quick enough. So, I have to try and help rebuild what she broke.” Jon nodded, respecting your answer and reasoning.

“I wish you well, lord Y/N.” You placed your arm on his.

“I wish you a safe journey, Jon Snow.”

 You were the last Targaryen now. That was once told to be a dangerous thing. But, in your eyes, it was going to be peaceful. Yes, you’d morn your sister for years to come. But you had a calmer spirit now. The reckless streak in you had been buried years ago. But now it was gone for good.

 Now you could focus on the future. Now you could slowly rebuild. After all, you’d seen what happens when you rush it and give into power.