#its so condescending and toxic to me

[afro-hispwriter]

idk why but everytime i see “:(“ in a smexy headcannon im always like omg you’re calling me a dumb pathetic whore… and i love it

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, toxic traits including benevolent sexism

fem reader

Thinking about a benevolently sexist boyfriend...

A handy and helpful boyfriend who’s just a pinch condescending about it. He fixes your kitchen sink with a lazy grin—tools and blacked hands—asking smugly, “How would you ever survive without me?” And even though it’s a bit belittling, it’s just silly enough that you find it charming—smiling as you wrap both your arms around him while receiving his kisses. A sweet “Thank you~” on your lips as he lifts you up to sit on the kitchen counter as easily as lifting a toy.

A hero-complex boyfriend who lives for those times you need him and gets unreasonably annoyed with you those times you do things on your own. All but yelling at you, “Your door fell off its hinges? You fixed it? You could have hurt yourself! Why didn’t you call me!? Next time, don’t be so reckless.”

It’s not as charming… But can you blame him? He's just a real traditional boyfriend who wants to do all those romantic gentlemanly tasks—pick you up from work and take you out to eat and buy you jewelry, and all he ever expects you to do in return is put out—give him a blowjob here and there and a little strip-tease before letting him fuck your brains out. All you got to worry your pretty little head about is making sure all your sweet nothings are reserved for him.

He just wants that fairy-tale experience and expects you to play your role—quit your job when you move in with him—be his stay-at-home wife. He’s going to put a kid in your belly soon, after all—it’s only right you get accustomed to taking care of the house before then.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks, Enji, Natsuo, Mirio, some type of Deku ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji, a very special soft Sukuna ♡ HQ – Daichi, Kuro, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Sakusa ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Tanjiro, Sanemi, Genya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[jaeyums]

Just One More (Part 1)

Pairings - Fratboy!Haechan x reader (lowkey x dreamies)

Word Count - 3k

Content Warning - smut (obvi), angst, slight corruption kink, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), fingering, drinking, loss of virginity, Fratboy! Haechan (kinda), Toxic!Haechan, mentions of drowning (what??) pls Imk if I missed anything

Summary - You curse your new neighbours, partying what feels like every night, the booming bass making it impossible to sleep. Fed up, you finally ask them to turn it down, but when you're forced to make a seemingly harmless deal, things spiral faster than you ever could've imagined.

A/N - Ty all sm for the support on the teaser, its genuinely such a big motivator <3

previous | next

————————————————————————

Your alarm clock beeps, 4:45am glowing in red. You rub your eyes tiredly, crawling out of bed. It feels like time’s moving extra slow as you groggily go through your morning routine.

Finally ready for the day, you grab your work bag and red lifeguard shirt and head out the door to your opening shift at the pool.

Time goes by slowly and painfully, your tiredness making it difficult to pay attention to the early morning swimmers. You spent your time off deck doing some last minutes studying, though you doubt you actually retained any information.

The midterm was rougher than you had expected but you’re sure you’ve at least passed. You felt a slight weight lift off your shoulder as you hand it in, knowing reading break was right around the corner.

You finally arrive home, absolutely exhausted. You change into your lounge wear and instantly pass out on your couch.

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

You’re jolted awake, the sound of someone trying to break down your door booming through the apartment.

You scramble to get up, still drossy, as you shuffle your way to the door, grumbling.

“I’m coming, fuck, gimme a fucking second.”

You throw open the door angrily to reveal Haechan standing there.

“You didn’t forget about our deal did you?”

You throw a hand up to your forehead, it had completely slipped your mind. Plus you were so tired upon arriving home you didn’t even have a chance to think about it.

“And after we were so quiet last night too.”

He frowns, shaking his head in disappointment.

You had to admit they held up their side of the deal perfectly, and you weren’t trying to find out how loud they’d blast their music if you went back on this deal.

“Yeah no I’m coming, I just fell asleep.”

His face instantly lights up.

“Are you wearing that?”

He asks gesturing to your shorts and hoodie.

“Because honestly I wouldn’t mind, maybe just comb your hair a bit.”

You run your hands through your hair subconsciously but you quickly stop, annoyed when you catch yourself.

“No I’m not wearing this, just give me an hour to get ready.”

“Make it half.”

And with that he walks back to his apartment, leaving you to bask in your sorrow.

You run your hand through your hair again, checking it in the reflection of a nearby mirror. It did look really messy.

In all honesty, going to a party was the last thing you wanted do to right now, especially since your bed looked so welcoming. But if nothing else, you were a girl of your word, so you hopped into the shower.

The familiar sound of music blaring causes you to hesitate knocking on the door infront of you. You can’t even remember the last time you partied. Always going to school, studying, or working, you never had time to go out and have fun.

You debate turning back around and cozying up back in bed, your word be damned. You shift, turning back to leave, before realizing a boy is blocking your path.

He’s holding two packs of coolers, looking at you with a smirk.

“Where do you think you’re going? Pretty sure the party is that way.”

You sigh in defeat, and go to knock, but he interrupts your attempt.

“Do you really think they’ll hear you over the music? It’s open.”

You look back at him, his sharp eyes staring back in condescending confusion. He had this expensive aura to him that almost intimidated you.

When you don’t break eye contact, he leans forward, and you stumble back startled. He’s inches away from your face, his eyes still blaring into yours, when you hear the door open. You turn and realize he was leaning forward to open it.

He snickers and your reaction and walks past you, holding up the coolers in triumph.

“Let’s go Chenle!”

The boys shout upon his arrival. You feel so awkward, still standing in the door way, not sure if you should walk in or not.

You step inside as the door closes behind you. Taking in the party, you count around 30 people, clearly a smaller get together. Everyone seems to already know each other, your uncomfortably rising by the second.

You can’t help but look for Haechan, hoping to see some kind of a familiar face, despite the fact you two only properly met yesterday.

Your eyes finally landed on his tall figure, dressed in a nice black shirt and jeans. He’s leaned over a girl, whispering something in her ear. You watch as she blushes and squirms under his gaze as he pulls back to look at her.

The whole scene makes you feel off, so you decide to head towards where you imagine the bathroom is. Assuming the layout is similar to yours, you walk through a hallway with several doors lining it, which is way more doors than your hallway has.

You try your best to guess the right room, saying a small prayer before opening the door.

You’re met with the site of a boy sitting with his head titled back, this adams apple bobbing as he lets out a groan. Your eyes trail down to see and girl on her knees at the edge of the bed, her head between his legs.

He looks down slightly as he notices the now open door, and you peeking in. He bites his lip, scanning you up and down.

Breaking out of a trance you didn’t know you were in, you quickly close the door.

You back away from the door, your face scrunching in embarrassment, but your body is pressed against something before you’re able to get far.

Two hands land on your waist, holding you there, as Haechans face comes into view over your shoulder. His touch sends shivers up your spine.

“Whatcha looking for, princess?”

You can faintly smell a mix of alcohol and cologne as his breath tickles your ear. You try to move away but his grip tightens, restricting your movement.

“Relax, I was just looking for the bathroom.”

He lets out a laugh.

“That room definitely isn’t the bathroom, but I’m sure you’ve realized that by now, haven’t you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, silently hoping your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel, still hyperaware of his hand placement.

“Second door on the left.”

He finally lets go, as if giving you permission to leave. You nod at him as thanks and speed walk over to the second door on left.

You stand in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection. You actually pulled together quite well considering the day you had. Your hair and makeup complimented your features beautifully. Your outfit hugging your body in all the right places.

This is just a stupid party, no need to get so freaked out over people getting a little freaky, right?

Your mental pep talk is interrupted by someone walking into the bathroom, not noticing you at first.

You kick yourself for not locking the door, but the boy who just entered was unbelievably handsome, having a cute boyish look to his features, so you can’t be too mad.

“Oh, oh my god, sorry, fuck, I-I uh didn’t realize someone was in here, so sorry.”

You can’t help but laugh as he struggles to apologize, covering his eyes slightly.

“It’s totally okay, I was just leaving anyways.”

He lowers his hands, only now getting a good look at you. He seems to like what he sees as his face lights up.

“Leaving? Already? We could just chill in here a bit.”

You raise your eyebrow sceptically, though he seemed so innocent, it was hard to tell his intentions.

“I just think a break from all the chaos outside would be nice,”

He quickly clarifies upon seeing your expression shift.

“I’ve never seen you before, what’s your name?”

“oh yeah it’s my first time here, it’s y/n.”

He smiles, his pink gums flashing cutely when he does.

“My name’s Jisung, nice to meet you.”

His aura is much more comforting than anyone else’s you’ve encountered at this party so far. He was slightly shy, but still held himself confidently.

Before you can continue your conversation the door is swung open again.

Now Haechan stands in the doorway looking almost annoyed.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

His tone is humous and teasing, but the sentiment doesn’t make it to his face.

Jisung just rolls his eyes.

“Nothing, Haechan, we were just talking.”

“Well we’re playing a game now so let’s go. Out, both of you.”

He moves to the side gesturing you two out of the room. Jisung walks past him, but when you try to do the same he stops you in your tracks.

“Here, you’ll need this for the game.”

He holds out a red solo cup, taking a sniff causes you to recoil, the smell of liquor burning your nose.

“Oh, I don’t drink.”

“You do today.”

After a moment, you reluctantly take it. Maybe this will help with the nerves you’ve been trying so hard to ignore.

“Plus, if you do well, you won’t have to have any anyways.”

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

Around ten of you now sit in a circle in the living room. Haechan stands in the middle explaining the rules of the game. It’s relatively simple, just truth or dare but if you refuse to do the challenge, you drink.

You look around, seeing some faces you’ve seen before. Chenle, Jisung, Jeno, and the boy from the bedroom, the girl being no where to be seen, are scattered throughout the circle.

“Couldn’t we just lie if we didn’t feel like telling the truth?”

Asks Chenle, titling his head.

“Can’t, we must swear on our life to be honest,”

He responds dramatically.

“But if you still feel like being a liar, Renjun is basically a human lie detector.”

He looks to a boy wearing glasses, who waves to the rest with a tight lipped smile.

With that, Haechan joins the circle, sitting on the couch directly across from you. His eyes now locked onto you.

The game starts with the usual stupid challenges, everyone laughing with each other, a playful feeling fills the air. People have yet to ask you anything, most likely due to the fact that they don’t know your name, which you were beyond grateful for.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t last long as Jisung decided you’ve been too comfortable for too long.

“Why hasn’t anyone asked y/n yet? Jaemin, since it’s your turn, you do it.”

The boy who you’d seen receiving services earlier looks over to you, the same scandalous look returning to his face.

“Hmm okay y/n, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

You answer almost immediately, not daring to risk hearing the twisted things Jaemin would come up with if you had chosen dare.

“Okay, let’s start with something easy. What’s your body count?”

The room fills with the boys talking, trying to guess what the number might be before you say it.

“I’d guess like five? surely not over ten.”

“I don’t know, she might be in double digits.”

“Look at her, I’m saying at least thirteen.”

“She kind of has this innocent aura though.”

The only person not chiming in was Haechan. As uncomfortable as it was having people you just met discuss your sex life, the way Haechan looked at you made you ten times more uncomfortable.

It felt like he could see right through you, like he already knew the answer; that all his friends were wrong. He knew the moment he touched your waist, knew by the way you reacted so sensitively to his hands.

You tried your best to advert your gaze, laughing uneasily. It’s not that you’re embarrassed or anything…okay you might be slightly embarrassed, nonetheless it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

It’s just the thought of revealing something so personal to a bunch of strangers that didn’t sit well with you.

“I think I’m gonna have to drink.”

Your answer is met with uproar, a series of “boo”s following your announcement.

You ignore them looking at the cup in your hand uneasily, before closing your eyes and taking a long chug.

The boos quickly turn into cheers, encouraging you to drink more.

So you do. You finish the cup in that long chug, a boy, apparently named mark, quickly handing you another drink. You pause, but only for a second, before taking it.

Just one more drink can’t hurt, can it?

————————————————————————

tags : @snflwrhaerecs4u @ki-aechan @loveforred

[chxrrydrxp]

ok so i'm so in with your theme rn and i loved your after car with jason drabble but what i really came here to say imagine poor jason todd realizes he's in love in dick's girlfriend. he doesn't say anything but he knows he can treat you better and be better for you. he knows dick cares about you but he's bad for you because he'll never fully love you but believes he can. so he watches you from afar, trying to sweet in small ways like helping fixing your car and stuff. he watches you and dick fight, break up and of course make up till the point he's fed up of watching dick play you because he's knows dicks cheating and he knows dick isn't trying to hurt you but its not fair. poor jason he doesn't want to be a rebound he just wants to give you the love you deserve.

I'm really about to break jasons pretty heart and staple it back together with this fic. apologies for the wait! I got too excited and decided to write a series about it 🥹

I'll release it chapter by chapter 🤭 and you're a genius I love ur brain 🧠

and fr dick damn near slept with every dc character that man is a whore. I'm still tryna figure out what excuse imma give him for why he is a serial man whore

all jokes aside, I'm gonna have some much fun with this.

𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒷𝒾𝒹𝒹ℯ𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉

Jason Todd x (Dick's Ex! Fem!) Reader:

chapter 1

chapter 2

warnings: this series will get heated eventually, and I'll just put a warning on those specified chapters.

this might be a long series, depends how much yall want it 🤭

Loud rain poured against Jason's window. He laid against his dark wood bed frame while reading a book. As he flicked through thin pages, the sound of you and Dick arguing could be heard from across the hall.

He wasn't exactly trying to eavesdrop, but he could make out certain sentences like “why's her name still..’. He sighed, growing more and more tired of the constant back and forth between you two. The conversation slowly moved from the room into the hall, and the argument could almost be heard throughout the whole manor.

“Dick, I cannot do this anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of being confused about your feelings for me!” He could then hear Dick's annoyingly condescending voice. Another tired sigh escaped Jason's lips as he ran his fingers tiredly through his dark strands. He rolled off the bed, put on a loose white tee, and slipped on black house shoes.

Pulling the door back, he wasn't even noticed by the two of you until his deep voice rumbled through the hall. Even as a quiet, “The hells’ all the commotion, I'm tryna read damn it”, his voice caught your attention. You felt slightly embarrassed. But the anger just wouldn't let up. “Sorry Jason, just go back to your room,” Dick pleaded, leaning against the wall with a frown. Jason rolled his eyes at Dick's continuous attempts to sound like an older brother, and his eyes flickered to yours.

Noticing your red eyes and a tear of anger falling down your cheeks, his jaw relaxed and he almost looked concerned. “You alright?” His soft voice coaxed you out of your bubbling fit of anger. “Yeah...I'm okay…I'm just gonna go home..” Your eyes stuck back to the floor and then you walked away, leaving the two brothers alone. Dick began to walk away, only stopping in his tracks at the mention of his name.

“Dick…you can't keep doin' this man-” Dick spun around shooting a cold glare at him. “Doing what? You think I want to hurt her?” Jason's eyebrows furrowed. “You're not doing a good job of proving me wrong.” Dick walked away.

You dropped your keys on your marble console table, falling onto the couch with a sigh. You knew he wasn't right for you. This cycle of toxicity would go on and on forever unless you stuck your foot in the ground. The repeating doubts about your relationship circled your mind almost daily. You and Dick had been together since late middle school days. You went everywhere with each other and attended every dance together. You were both practically attached at the hip. You had everything in common and could get lost in various topics for hours.

But, that connection had seemed so far away. So long ago. Like a distant memory. The romance in the relationship felt like it was fading, but neither of you was ready to let it go. And it puts a strain on your relationship, even without romance.

You curled up on the soft sofa, bringing your knees to your chest and feeling stinging tears well in your eyes. You knew it was bad for you. God that's all you ever thought about. But it hurt too much to even consider ending things. He was so familiar.

You don't know how much time has passed by of you being stuck in a constant loop of repetitive thoughts, but a knock on your door shook you out of your trance.

“y/n? It's Jason, can I come in?” You quickly wiped your eyes with your shirt and straightened yourself out. “Be right there!” You cringed at that obvious wavering of your voice. You reached the door, opening it slightly so he could only see your upper half. Your head was leaned downward as a half-assed attempt to hide your tear-stained face. “Hey,” was all he said, with a faint sheepish smile. You lazily nodded at him. “Need something?” You'd hoped you didn't sound angry at him. “Well, I came here to ask you the same thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a familiar habit of his. “Come in.”

(yall I cannot think of a title omg)

[mikanotes]

out of reach ft. baek harin x gn!reader 2.1k words warnings: nervous breakdown, implied manipulation and bullying, reader nd harin are Slightly toxic, smoking, not really proofread Sorry!

author’s note: finally watched pyramid game! harin is so dear to me i love her. anyways here’s this

Clouds of smoke and overpriced cigarettes. The faint smell of perfume, struggling to cover the overwhelming, biting scent of tobacco. The sound of a lighter clicking shut, and a disdainful laugh. Condescending. The very image of a typical rich, high-school bully.

Then she sighs, softly, and it all changes.

The smoke dissipates to reveal a gentler expression (though the void in her eyes cannot be hidden), and the cigarette smell seems to leave with the passing breeze. She smiles softly and relaxes her shoulders. “I’m expecting great things from you.” she says, hiding a don’t you dare disappoint in between her words. She chuckles quietly to herself and turns on her heel. The school princess.

“Let’s go.” she says, her tone on the edge of something hurried. Like her facade, though perfectly constructed and practiced, might threaten to break if she stays any longer. You don’t reply but push yourself off of the wall to walk at her side when she strolls past where you were waiting.

The moment you’re far away enough from that hidden corner by the school entrance, Harin tenses again. You look down and see her thumb pressing its nail into her palm’s skin. Into flesh, at this rate. “Harin.” you call. She blinks out of her thoughts and turns her gaze to you. “What is it?”

“I’m thinking.” she replies honestly, bits of that kind demeanor slowly crumbling to reveal a more honest, yet possibly less furious side to her. One you’re more acquainted with.

“You do that too much.” you heave a deep sigh, “Seriously. Have you had a moment to breathe at all this week?”

Baek Harin is calculating. Always calculating each of her moves— Every interaction with all of her classmates, her family, her past present and future, the adults at her school. She carefully reviews the way she presents herself down to the detail. And now, she calculates everything Seong Suji does, everyone she interacts with, everyone around her, everything she does truthfully and all she does that seems fake— add more to the list. 

That’s just a recipe for disaster. But you’ve also known her for long enough to know that having a calm mind free of worries and overthinking is a privilege Harin hasn’t had since her early childhood years. The way she functions now is her own idea of normal, and it has been for much too long to even consider the idea of changing. So you don’t try to change it. But you try to calm her down, when she allows you to attempt it.

“I’m breathing fine.” she scoffs slightly, “I can’t afford not to think. Especially not…” she trails off like she’s remembered something, and you frown.

She reaches for her pillbox but it escapes her grasp, falling on the concrete. You reach over to grab it but she’s quicker than you. The moment the thing is in her hand, she opens it and shakes three vitamin tabs into her palm, before freezing in place.

You slow down and stop in your tracks, barely a meter back, then slowly approach her. Her eyes are flitting between the box and the pills themselves, her lip trembling as if struggling to get a word out. You start reaching out towards her but she suddenly throws all of the vitamins back into their little chamber. She clicks the pillbox close and puts it back into her pocket, then fumbles to get something else.

“Harin.”

She finally manages to find what she was seemingly so desperate to find, and opens the pack of cigarettes. She grabs one and shakily sets it between her lips, before repeating the whole searching process for her lighter.

“Harin.”

Once the golden thing’s in her hand, she clicks to light up a flame, once, twice, three times, to no avail. You swear her hand is beginning to shake.

“Baek Harin!”

“Fuck.”

She spits the cigarette to the ground and nearly crushes the rest of the pack in her hand. Her teeth bite into her lip to stifle a scream of frustration, you guess, and she goes back to digging her nails into the flesh of her hand.

You slowly set a hand on her shoulder and she lets you, though she does look much too lost in her own head to register anything other than the ground she’s been blankly staring at. “…Let’s go home.” you say, tone softer.

She nods in agreement.

Baek Harin’s definition of a home has changed several times over the years. Haneul Orphanage, the house of the family she was adopted into, and yet neither ever truly gave her the feeling that it was what home was supposed to feel like. She isn’t relieved when she steps foot into her house, she just feels more at ease to continue preparing her so-called schemes. Still, it is a house, her family lives there, and she never lacked anything. It’s a fine place to be.

But when she’s here, in comparison…

“I’m home.” you sigh as you take off your shoes. Harin sees your cat walk past the entrance hallway and stop to look at you, clearly waiting for something. And when you look at it, you smile and go pet it. It’s just that easy for them to get what they want in life, huh? She feels your gaze on her and looks at you.

“What?”

“Are you planning to stay at the door?”

She blinks. Right. She unclasps her shoes and slides them off her feet before she steps inside. She barely notices she’s breathing out a sigh of relief before a wave of exhaustion hits her. It makes her wonder for a moment if she was right to take the pillbox earlier. Maybe she forgot to take them during the day? She had so much to do. Did she? If she’s forgetful about this, she could be about much more important things….

She’s reminded of her near-breakdown just earlier and holds back from picking at her nails. She rarely reaches the brink of losing it this badly. She really needs to do something about the direction the game is going towards, or else she fears she might break at the wrong time.

“Harin.” you call, bringing her out of her thoughts, and she realizes you already walked to your kitchen, and you’re peeking at the corner of the wall to see her. “Do you want something?”

She stares at you a bit coldly, almost frowning. It’s clear she’s not entirely out of her own head, yet.

“Cola.” she says, “Do you have any?”

You scoff. “When do I not?”

She takes off her small backpack and walks further inside. This small place…  She would dislike it. She’s not one to be picky, but growing up in a luxury house for nearly ten years makes you dislike cramped spaces. At least she does. But she’s used to this apartment having you in it, and many times in the past, her, whenever she needed a place to go to that wasn’t her own house.

Sometimes she thinks maybe she isn’t grateful enough to have you. Sometimes.

“My game feels like it’s falling apart.” she sighs, walking into the living room. She plops down on the couch, tossing her bag aside and taking out her phone. “This girl is actively trying to ruin all of it.”

“Seong Suji?” you ask from the kitchen. There’s a hint of something in your voice that she hasn’t heard before. It’s sour and new.

She wants to hear it again.

“Yes. Seong Suji…” she trails off, “I swear even having 24/7 cameras on her wouldn’t help me stop her from doing all this.” she scoffs.

You hum in response, then it grows quiet. Harin feels a smile pull at her lips. She can practically see how much thoughts this small conversation provoked in your mind. Seong Suji? Is she the problem? She is. But is she in this case, too?

She’s curious.

“Still, I guess she’s a bit cute. Interesting, too. I’ve never had anyone stand up to me this much before.”

“Yeah?” you answer blankly, joining her. You set down the two glasses of cola on the coffee table just harshly enough for it to cause an audible clang. “Maybe because you're so used to having everyone bow to you and your every requests?”

“You don’t.”

“Don’t I?”

“You sound bitter.” Harin laughs, setting down her phone on her lap and propping up her elbow on the armrest. She sets her index under her chin and looks at you as you rummage through your backpack. The glimpse she gets of your face confirms you indeed seem unnerved about something. Cute… No, this is more than cute.

“I’m not.” you sigh, visibly straightening up. Your face relaxes and you glance towards her. “What’s with the staring?”

“Nothing. You’re nice to look at.”

You roll your eyes and grab your laptop from your bag and set it down on the table. Her eyes move to focus on it and she furrows her eyebrows. She didn’t know you still carried it around. She had to buy you one when it fell and the screen cracked, before. Irresponsible… Not that she minds buying for you. Not that you ask, either.

“Info on her friends. From other schools, I mean.”

Harin blinks, registering what you mean. “On Suji?” she mutters, eyes narrowing at the laptop. She tilts her head towards you with a small pout. “I never asked you that, did I?” she chuckles a little, leaning over to grab her glass.

This could be useful, but this doesn’t work.

You shake your head slightly. “Didn't.”

“So you’re just playing assistant, are you?” she huffs, “Thanks… But don’t do it again.”

You frown. “Why?”

“I don’t want you to get involved. You don’t even attend my school. It’ll only be trouble.”

— Besides, she doesn’t want you to be associated with this game and place as a whole more than needed. Just having you near the school is enough to make her stomach hurt. She has to have you be away from it all, at least. If not, she’ll feel like she’s still in it even when she’s with you. Then she won’t be able to sigh in relief once she steps inside your place anymore.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I get in trouble for you.”

“Mhm.” she laughs as she drinks, then turns to look at you once she’s done. The emotion leaves her face. “Don’t do it again.” she repeats, tone laced with hints of a threat. She means it.

“That doesn’t work on me, Harin.”

You stare at her and she doesn’t feel like looking away, either. You’re stubborn. She’s worse. This isn’t gonna end, and if it does, you might argue. She doesn’t feel like arguing.

“Do you like me?“ she decides to ask, just to throw you off a little.

“Are you insane?” you bite back, not missing a beat. Her smile deepens. She blinks away and leans back into the couch, sipping on her drink more.

“Not really.”

“False.”

“That’s rude?” she laughs, looking at you again. You raise your eyebrows and smile slightly, leaning to grab your glass.

“Too bad.” you say, before sipping on the cola. It’s a bit nostalgic. Drinking cola under dim lights when it feels like the world is only you two. This happened before, when she felt like her family’s very presence was suffocating, and locking herself in her room wasn’t enough— Or much earlier, when you were just kids, and you’d buy each other cola flavored popsicles. This kind of comfort makes her want more. She almost forgets about the game, for a moment.

The sour air in your voice and on your features seems to be gone now, so she figures the atmosphere is just as calming for you. Though she did enjoy seeing that look on your face… Your genuine, soft smile is one she enjoys a little bit more.

Now that she’s getting comfortable here, she doesn’t want to leave. She’ll take all the time she can get. She knows you don’t mind her staying. You may be above the rest when it comes to telling her off and not doing everything she asks, but you’re not above allowing nearly anything that helps her. And if letting her stay here, at the cost of possibly getting a death glare from her family members and irritating questions about any trouble she could’ve possibly caused for you, can help her? 

Then she knows you wouldn’t refuse. Even if you pretend you could. She knows how important she is to you.

“I’m staying the night.”

“When did I say you could?”

“You didn’t have to.” she hums, reaching over to move strands of your hair away from your face. She smiles. “I know I can.”

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

i have left

hey everyone this will probably be the last thing i post on this blog albeit im keeping it up for resources.

im eternally grateful for how this community has helped me through prostitution and everything, i have amazing mutuals and i have learned so much 💜

but it has become toxic. many of yall cant handle disagreement and default to being as condescending and obnoxious as possible. one of us calling out a post is not enough, we have to dog pile everyone with a slightly shitty opinion. some of yall have severely lost the plot if you ever had it in the first place. not everything is that serious, especially when it comes to online drama.

im sick of it. so many engage in the same bullshit we accuse online trans activists of. this is an echo chamber. so many just mindlessly parrot slogans and arguments. what im very sick of is seeing single tweets or posts by a nobody, usually anonymous, being spread as receipts and shit. you know how annoying it is when everything a self proclaimed terf somewhere on social media says is taken by trans activists at face value and representative of the community when theyre not even radical feminist, just transphobic? yeah. yet a lot of yall do the same by saving and sharing „receipts“ where some random person who claims theyre trans (or not even) says some fucked up or out of pocket shit. you will always find people like that online, from any politicial „camp“ or ideological alignment!

a lot of yall seem to think that debate is about winning and not like, having an exchange of arguments and let the audience come to their own conclusion

and i just dont hate trans people. in fact i feel kinship to any female or homosexual trans person, anyone except heterosexual males. many of yall dont even realise how male centered you are when you more or less equal the trans community to heterosexual men who have a fetish for humiliation and forced feminisation or whatever. who exist and are an issue and i do wish the trans community at large would distance themselves from those men, but its not all there is to it. yes i agree that we need to protect vulnerable young people, girls and especially lesbians and gay boys, from being pushed into transitioning, i think the age of consent should be put at 21 or something, but we have to acknowledge and consider that there are people who have already transitioned and will transition in the future and i just dont understand how you cant have any empathy for them. no matter what you think about transition, many trans people ARE vulnerable and marginalised. plus consider how many detransitioned women are in this community yet yall talk about trans people as mutilated and shit its gross. in the end we can only try to establish structures that keep people from self harming, but an adult of sound mind has the right to do so anyways, including plastic surgery and trans surgeries. and i want to keep my arms open to them; but a lot of rhetoric around it spread on here will only alienate them further.

right now im saving all my essays in notes so its out of my mind. i have missed the community a lot so maybe i will return at some point but i have also been feeling better since i stopped being on radblr. i miss the rare valuable input and thoughts by other women but overall i have felt unaligned with how things have been handled on here. it has been mostly negative instead of constructive and pragmatic. ive had the impression some of yall enjoy the „being in the in-group“ community aspect more than actually being here for feminist exchange. lack of nuance, lack of empathy, lack of reason. it pains me but i have more and more come to understand why people just block us without engaging on general suspicion because ive also come to be annoyed with some of yall engaging with posts - and im on „your side“.

anyways im doing okay, im going to drug counselling regularly now and am trying to establish a stable life for those of you who inquired, and i hope anyone reading this is self reflected enough to know whether this applies to her or not. bye

[batterygarden]

armin & his crybaby gf

sfw but no minors on my page pls

cw: college au, condescending and toxic bf armin (in a hot way!), ft. creepy bully eren, armin pushes reader's hair from her face once, reader is slut shamed for wearing a skirt, & fic spoilers: implied nude sharing w eren which reader did not consent to, about 1.2 k words, thank u for helping me my love, @deliriovs

Armin loves the heavy weight of your head on his chest after you’ve had a hard day. He loves how his shirt gets damp with your tears and snot ‘cause you're incapable of self soothing—how you always need him to put you back together at the littlest inconvenience. But today he’s busy—he’s got his first medical licensing exam to study for and it’s annoying when you burst into his room crying. He’s mentally kicking himself the second he sees you in his peripheral; he should have set aside more free time today in case you needed him for something. It was stupid to assume you could make it through one night without him there to comfort you through whatever bothered you today. 

“‘Min.”  You whine after shutting his door behind you, finally unleashing a pent up sob now that you’re alone together. You freeze when you see his exhausted stare though, paired with a pile of papers and textbooks next to his laptop that he’d clearly been pouring over.  

He slowly slides back his headphones and scrubs his palms in his eyes when he turns his chair to face you, sighing under his breath before opening his arms, motioning for you to come sit on his lap.

Of course you don’t hesitate, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief when you sit sideways over his legs, burying your face in his shoulder and curling your fingers around the neck of his sweater, trying not to choke on your own breath when another wave of tears takes over.

Armin thinks you’re a little pathetic sometimes—and it’s endearing, but today he’s overwhelmed. You’re just so needy. Still, he rubs his hands over your back gently, feeling your shuddered breaths begin to slow.

“Baby are you okay?” His sweet tone doesn’t meet his bored expression—not that you can see with your face buried like it is.

You nuzzle into him further, wishing you could dig a hole in his flesh and bury yourself inside—where it’s safe and warm and comforting. 

You hum no with a shake of your head, trying one more deep, steadying breath before turning just enough to say,  

“Today was terrible. You remember that guy who sits by me in sociology, Eren? We were talking and he started acting really creepy…”

Armin’s shoulders tense subtly and you peek to see him looking at the ceiling with a drained expression—the kind of face you think he’d make if you told him you spilled coffee in his backpack. You can read his mind before he has the chance to speak, so you scramble to cover for yourself,

“Wait, ‘Min, he talked to me first—please don’t be mad.”

“M’not mad. I’m disappointed you didn’t listen to me.”

Your heart starts to beat fast again when you hear the subtle change in his tone.

“Well, let me finish—”

“I told you not to talk to him. And now you’re coming in here crying cause you don’t know how to follow simple instructions. Almost sounds like I should let you handle whatever he did yourself.”

His hand doesn’t stop its careful circuit around your spine while he talks, and his tone isn’t especially scary—his words only come with an air of patience that reminds you of how your  parents used to talk to you when you were a child. Like you’re a loved one throwing a tantrum. It’s demeaning and a bit harsh in your opinion—he’s being unfair. But when you turn your head to argue and show off your hurt expression, his eyes look kind and then he’s pushing hair out of your face with a touch so gentle it’s cruel. 

Any defiance washes away then… ugh you’re exhausted. 

“You’re right, I’m… so-sorry,” you say in a fragile voice, trying to breathe evenly so you don’t disappoint him. Armin always knows best—he was just looking out for you and now you’re being annoying. The thought brings fresh wetness to your eyes, another stifled sob to your throat. 

Then you’re releasing his shirt to instead hook your arms behind his back, squeezing yourself into him like you can hide this way. You can’t see the resulting roll of his eyes, but you feel him wrap his other arm around you, pressing his cheek down into your neck and rocking you slightly.

His voice is feather-soft when he says, “Y’know I just want what’s best for you.” You notice it’s not a question but a statement. You nod, nuzzling your face further into his soft sweater, breathing in the comforting floral scent of his laundry detergent. 

He sighs, finding your reactions to things absurd. My sensitive little baby. He hugs you a little tighter then and whispers, “So what’d he do?”

You wipe your eyes on his collar before mumbling a broken, barely coherent story into his neck. You detail how it made you feel when Eren wouldn’t get out of your personal space earlier, how mad you were when he called your favorite skirt slutty. He was being so mean even though you were going out of your way to help him with the homework!

Armin listens respectfully to the whole thing, nodding along and murmuring little mhm’s when necessary. 

But when you finish talking and finally pull away to look at him, he’s staring past you at the wall with this cold, calculating face that sort of scares you—the kind of expression that emphasizes the lavender of his under eyes, reasserting how tired he must be right now. 

When he doesn’t immediately say anything, you reach a shaky hand up to trace his dark circles, and his gaze finally flicks down to you again. He smiles a little. 

“I mean he has a point about the skirt doesn’t he?”   

His words pour gasoline on cooled ashes; you only huff and drop your head to his shoulder again. 

“I guess, maybe.” 

You play with the fabric of his button up that peaks beneath his sweater. Then you’re yawning and Armin chuckles light and sweet under his breath, ducking down to kiss your brow.

“There it is. You were just upset ‘cause you were tired, huh sleepyhead?” 

Like a spell, suddenly you notice your eyelids do feel pretty heavy. 

“Maybe.” 

“Will you sleep now, my good listener? Let me get some more work done? Stop worrying about nobodies like Eren?” 

You shut your eyes and nod, and then Armin’s sliding his headphones back into place, rocking you in his chair for a bit before carefully laying you on his bed.

Then he’s quick to pull out his phone, finding Eren’s contact and sending a text faster than the speed of light. 

you’re weird as hell ren, why’d you have to scare her like that today?

LMAO she talked about me? 

not sharing pics anymore if you do it again. fucking idiotic

i'm trying to talk to more armin fuckers.. pls hml 😏

[mcybree]

If we’re going to have the conversation about how fh is talked about in fandom: the amount of shit i saw in the flower husbands tag that set off alarms in my head before i stopped checking it is astounding. Like. there’s a reason i started primarily beastlife posting i will be so real with you.

The way people talk about toxic fh portrayals on here and toxic relationships in general is not only concerning from a safety perspective but it felt like walking into a party with a big arrow that says “this guy was in a toxic relationship in REAL LIFE!!!” and everyone looks and you and goes ewwww can you be normal. Can you write characters just breaking up normally. Like I dont know man can people read into mcrp without seeing condescending posts in the maintags about it. i could only block so many people bc new guys kept showing up to share their two cents

Like yeah its just mcrp discourse which is inherently unserious but some of those posts were underlined by a misunderstanding of how toxic relationships even work. i cannot stress to you how much “scott loved jimmy so he couldnt have been abusive” is like. reflective of real life beliefs about relationships that are dangerous to have. that is literally the kind of thinking that makes you susceptible to toxic relationships in Real Life. Like yeah we’re just talking about cubes but PLEASE STAY SAFE OUT THERE? It stressed me out for real. Can you kids stop playing with wild dogs in front of me

[justmeinadaze]

You Should Be Sad (Steddie X You)

Part 1 Without Me

A/N: ENTER WITH CAUTION! Like my previous chapter THIS WILL MAKE YOU FEEL! Its angsty and dealing with dark themes of addiction. I WILL STILL LOVE YOU IF YOU CHOOSE TO SKIP THIS STORY!

Warnings: Toxic Steddie and reader! Even though in the bulk of this story they are on a healing journey a lot of their toxic behavior is discussed and expanded upon. ANGST, They are sober but they still haven't truly faced all of their demons. Eddie is a former drug addict and Steve is a former alcoholic. Their previous behavior is discussed and expanded upon including verbal abuse, Eddie ODing, and smacking the reader (its just the one time but it shakes them both).

Eddie does go visit his dad in jail and of course his dad is an asshole. Eddie talks about his trauma and what his mom went through. Steve does the same when it comes to his dad and how he made him feel.

Reader talks about her healing and how they were like her drug. She talks in detail about how they made her feel especially when Eddie ODed.

I think that's all the angst. Again DARK THEMES ARE EXPLORED HEAVILY! If that makes you uncomfortable I understand if you choose not to read!

SMUT, not rough in anyway, there's still love between them and they are much gentler with her here then in the last chapter. FLUFF, I did create a happy ending. I think they deserve that <3. Not all situations like this end badly.

Word Count: 11,371

 1991

“I, um, called her mom and she said she may be coming in but I don’t know.”, Steve sighed as he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

“And if she doesn’t that’s alright. You’ve been doing really well, Steven. Compared to where you were three years ago after Y/N left.” The man grimly smiled towards the group counselor.

He hated thinking about that time in his life. After you three graduated school, they convinced you to move into an apartment with them. Being completely away from prying eyes didn’t make things any better. Steve drank more excessively and Eddie continued to snort heavy amounts of his drug. Their toxic behavior amplified and every day they watched your personality that they fell in love slowly fade. 

 Three years ago, you finally had enough. You didn’t notify them in any way or even go back to the apartment to pack a bag. You just got in your car and ran from Hawkins. 

Losing you shook them to their core. A week after you disappeared, Steve went to the station and told Hopper about the accident he had caused senior year that got you hurt. They charged him for the DUI and fleeing the scene but instead of any prison time the chief got him into a rehab program. After six months of in-patient treatment, he was released for continued out-patient rehab therapy. He had been sober ever since but every day was hard. Due to his record no one wanted to hire him even though he was a Harrington so he ended up having to work at his dad’s firm. 

With everything that happened, his dad became almost worse, constantly reminding him of his failures. Every time he said something condescending or Steve had that strong urge to drink, he would look at the photo he had of you three on his desk and remind himself why he was trying to be better. 

***

His uncle watched Eddie with cautious eyes as he took an obnoxiously big bite of the burger in front of him. 

“Wayne, if you stare at me any harder you’re going to burn a hole through my brain.”

The man laughs as he takes a sip from his glass of water. He knew his nephew was allowed to drink but chose not to for his roommate’s sake. Wayne didn’t want to make that choice any harder than he was sure it was so whenever he spent the afternoon with him he would drink anything but.

“How’s therapy goin’?”

“It’s, uh, it’s going.”, Eddie sighs. “We’ve been talking a lot about Allen lately. She…she thinks I should go to the prison and confront him. Face my fears so to speak. I told her I’m not afraid of him—” His uncle’s scoff cut him off. “What? I’m not.”

“Ed…you went through a lot as a kid. I don’t know how much you remember but—”

“I remember all of it.”

“Ok, I’m just saying, when someone goes through what you went through at such a young age…it’s ok to still…be afraid.” Eddie glares down at his plate as his uncle continues. “You’re not like him, son. Yeah, you fucked up but you’re trying. My brother gave up way before he ever went in.”

The boy’s jaw tightened as he tried to keep his emotions in check. 

“I hurt her, Wayne. That night I… I was out of control. You should have seen the way she looked me…after I…It was how mom looked him.”

***

You stared at the Hawkins road sign from your parked car as you wiped the tears from your eyes. You had been gone for three years and when you originally left you told yourself you were never coming back. The night you ran was the beginning of your own personal rehab purging you of them. You desperately needed to get away from their toxicity after what happened. 

About a year after you left, you received a call from a doctor at a rehab center a few hours outside of Hawkins asking if you would be willing to come be a part of Steve’s 12 step rehabilitation program. He needed to make amends and so far only Eddie and his mom participated. You declined at the time feeling there was no point. Steve was never consistent when it came to being sober. 

Every year you got a call but this year you were surprised when your mom asked you to take part as well. 

“Steve talked about your accident and apologized for his behavior. Y/N, he seemed so sincere. I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable coming back but it really did help me hearing him apologize especially after he’s continued to be sober. Maybe it can be a bit healing for you to.”

Eddie’s uncle kept your mom updated on his progress but amends were a lot harder for him. It wasn’t just that he was afraid to face that guilt but he felt like he still wasn’t strong enough to handle that emotion. 

You spent the last three years on a type of spiritual journey; traveling the world and having experiences of your own that didn’t include Eddie and Steve. You made a lot of new friends and got into a healthy relationship or two. You were living in the moment and for once you were extremely happy…well…happier.

Even you knew at some point you would have to come back here to Hawkins. Not just to see your family but to face the memories and everything you had been through. You needed to heal and if facing them in this controlled setting would do that then so be it.

###########

“Eddie, it’s ok.”, the counselor soothed as he watched the metalhead’s leg bounce anxiously. 

“Yeah, no. I’m just a little nervous. Is-Is she really coming?”

On cue, there’s a tiny knock on the man’s office door as the receptionist slowly opened it to tell him you were here. The boys watched as he poked his head through and said a few words to you before leading you into the room.

It took every fiber of their being not to get up and run to you, lift you in their arms, and kiss your lips. It had been three years and you were even more beautiful than they remembered. Your hair was a bit shorter and wherever you had been you were obviously constantly being kissed by the sun. You had gained a bit of weight which was good because when you were with them you barely ever ate anything since you were always in a constant state of panic worrying about them. What they wouldn’t give to see you smile again. 

Your arms remained hugged around your chest as the person in charge guided you to a seat across of them. They both looked different and, to be honest, unrecognizable to you sober. They carried a different air that made you wonder had you run into them anywhere else would you have even recognized them? Eddie still had his long hair and clean face but his eyes had more of a hollow ring around them as if he hadn’t slept in three years. Instead of the heavy metal garb you expected him to be in, he was wearing clothes that resembled his uncle’s style down to the beige colored boots. 

Steve looked like a younger version of his father and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t hurt you for him. He was wearing a suit with the sleeves rolled to his elbows as the jacket rested on the arm rest behind him. His beautiful brown hair was now wild as if he didn’t have the energy to style it anymore. Even the slight facial hair that dusted his upper lip and along his jaw line screamed that he was too exhausted to put in that extra effort. 

“Y/N, I just want to start this by saying this is a safe space, okay? You can say anything you want and there is no judgement. Usually, we do this one at a time but I thought it might be easier for you to do this with them both here.”

“You cleared it with her first right? You told her we both would be here?”

The doctor glanced over at Steve sympathetically. “Yes, I did. I wouldn’t have pushed her if she felt unsafe to be in a room with you both.”

“I do feel unsafe.” All eyes turned to you. “I…I still feel like this isn’t real. That you two are going to leave this place and go back to your apartment to do what you do best.”

“That’s fair.”, Eddie nodded as his gaze shifted towards the floor. “We had always tried to get clean but could never succeed.”

“Pfft, tried.”, you scoffed angrily as your arms hugged your body tighter.

“Go ahead, Y/N. Get it all out here. They can’t make amends if they don’t hear everything.”

“See, that’s the thing, sir. They did hear everything. I said it over and over again since high school but they ignored me and focused on themselves. It’s kind of ironic to be in a relationship with two men yet still feel lonely and unheard!”

Silence falls heavily over everyone and after a few moments the counselor clears his throat. “Steven, why don’t you go ahead?”

“I, uh, don’t know if your parents told you but I came clean about the accident. I took accountability, Y/N, like you had always wanted me to and I am so…so sorry I didn’t do that sooner. I almost killed you and…I don’t know why that wasn’t enough of a wakeup call for me but I’m still learning. I’m still…fuck…I’m sorry, Y/N. I know no amount of apologizing will make up for that or how I treated you but I think about you every day. Every day I wake and I fight to be a better man. It’s so fucking hard but—”

He pauses when he notices you staring out the window trying to control the tears that had begun to fall, turning towards the man in charge helplessly.

“What’s running through your mind, Y/N?” You shake your head but he continues to try and urge you to speak. 

“I’m just wondering…why wasn’t I enough?”

“Honey—”

“No. NO. Don’t you fucking dare, Steve Harrington.” Angerly you wipe your eyes as you turn your body to fully face him. “Waking up every day is hard for you? Good. Now you know what it was like for me for all those years. I woke everyday knowing you were going to be drunk or Eddie was going to be high. The fun part was the gamble of which men I was going to get that day. The doting boyfriends or the abusive dickheads.” 

Eddie flinched at your last sentence making you sarcastically laugh. 

“And I notice you’re still really fucking quiet over there. You may hate hearing it, Ed, but it’s true. I’ve told you before and looking at you two now I see it more than ever. You are both exactly like your fathers!” 

“I’m sorry.”, the metalhead whispered. 

“For what, Eddie?! This is amends right? Make them!”

The doctor heard Steve sigh as his head turned from you both. “Steven, what was that?”

“Nothing.”

“No, not nothing. Use the feelings chart if you need to.” 

You and Eddie roll your eyes at the same time.

“Jesus Christ, I’m angry.”

“At who? At Y/N?”

You see the answer in his face and it throws you off guard as you wait for him to explain. 

“He’s angry with me.”, Eddie heavily growls under his breath.

“Why is that?”

“Take your pick.”, the metalhead responds for him. “We got drunk and high together. I never tried to stop him nor did I ever stop him from cheating on Y/N which was hypocritical because I accused her of cheating on us all the time. I’m the one that convinced him to leave her at the accident and I’m the reason…”

“Oh, don’t stop now, Munson. You’re on a roll.”, Steve sassed.

“You’re as much to blame for her leaving as I am.”

The boy turned on his friend rising to his feet as Eddie did the same. 

“You’re the one that ODed on our floor!”

“And you’re the one that was so drunk you passed out on the couch and didn’t even wake up till after the ambulance was long gone!”

“You’re the one that fucking HIT HER!”

The room went quiet again as what they both were saying hung in the air. 

“Can we stop for the day, please?” Your small voice slices the tension in half as the counselor nods and stands to take your hand so he can lead you out. 

Eddie doesn’t say a word as he gathers his things and flies past everyone out the door towards his van before skidding away. 

“He is doing a lot better. They both are but Edward seems to struggle more when it comes to facing that part of his trauma.”

“He never wanted to be like his dad. That was one of his biggest fears.”, you sigh.

“Thank you for coming by. I would like to try this again with them and you. Whenever you’re ready of course.”

############

You sip your coffee as you sit in the booth at the diner a few blocks from your house. You had so much trouble falling asleep as all the anxieties of seeing them and being back here hit you like a ton of bricks. After what happened today, you weren’t sure if you could do another session with them but you were surprised by how it unfolded. You had so many questions about the past but new revelations gave you new things you wanted to ask. Had Steve always blamed Eddie for the things that happened? Did Eddie blame himself? They both seemed more agitated and angrier then when they weren’t sober. Why? Was it because you left or were there things they hadn’t faced yet?

“Hey Sally. Can I have some coffee please?” As you looked up from your beverage your eyes locked with Steve’s weary ones. “Hey, um, I’m just getting some caffeine and then I’ll be gone so…”

“Couldn’t sleep either?”, you asked causing him to exhale a breathy chuckle.

“Um, kind of. Eddie didn’t come home so I’ve been looking for him. Sometimes when he’s stressed he hides and smokes like a carton of cigarettes before heading to work the next morning. I still haven’t found out where he goes.”

“You two don’t go to the pool anymore?” He shook his head before thanking the waitress as she hands him his to go cup. “I may know where he is. I found him there once when his dad sent him a letter from jail. I…I can show you.”

“Oh, hon- Y/N, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

After sliding out of the booth, you threw some money on the table and sauntered past him as you walked out the front door. 

“If anything, I’m more comfortable doing this than the group therapy bullshit.”

***

Steve sighed when his friend’s van came into view in the driveway of an old run down home.

“How did you know he’d be here?”

“This is where he lived with his parents when he was a boy. He told me once he felt closer to his mom here.”

To the other boy’s surprise, the front door wasn’t locked as you swung it open with no problem. 

“Hey! Get the fu—fuck me. Hey, Y/N. What are you both doing here?” Eddie had quickly risen from the long-abandoned couch when you two had come in.

“I’ve been looking for you for a while, Ed. She volunteered to show me where you might be.”

“Why?” You don’t say anything as your eyes scan him over. “Well, I’m here. I’m safe. I’m fucking sober.” He flashes you both his vest pockets before turning in a circle to show you everything else. “So, you can go back home.”

“Why are you so angry?” Your tone was anything but subtle and slightly loaded with contempt as he tilted his head at your question. “You both seem more on edge now than before I left but especially you Eddie. Why?”

His face flashes through multiple emotions before finally deciding to be honest instead of shutting down. 

“I feel the same way he does. It’s my fault that everything happened. It’s my fault…you left. I don’t deserve to be happy.”

“I don’t know about that.”, you grumble as you cross your arms. “I think you should feel bad about our time together… you and Steve. I think you deserve to be happy but you have to feel what I went through first before you can and it seems like at this moment that frightens you both but especially you.”

“Y/N, look at me! Him and I have fucking crawled our way to sobriety. Steve confessed to the accident and I talked to my uncle like you wanted. We both went to rehab and talked about our feelings and shit. We suffer every fucking day to be better! I mean…”

“I wanted accountability, Eddie. I’m proud of you two for how far you’ve come and owning up to your mistakes. I really am but you both are still avoiding the reason you turned to your vices; the reason you treated me like garbage. I carried your burdens for you for almost 7 years. It’s time for you to face them and move forward. Be happy.”

“Are you happy?”, Steve asks from behind you.

“I’m happier than I was… I still struggle with my self image and identity without you two.” 

“I’m sorry I don’t understand. We always thought you were way stronger than we ever were. That you had your own powerful identity.”

“Which is why we always thought at some point you would realize you were too good for us or…or someone else would see that and take you away.”, Eddie sighed, disappointed in himself. 

“I almost died but still stayed yet Eddie almost died and that was enough for me to run.”, you shrug as your voice cracks. “You two were my everything. I felt like I couldn’t breathe without you. You were my vice.”

###########

“Where the fuck have you been?!”

“Jesus, Eddie. I was with my mom and I told you both that!”

“Really? You were with your mom until 10pm?!”

“YES! What do I have to do to prove to you, Eddie Munson, that I don’t want anyone else!!”

The metalhead rolled his eyes as he took a seat at the table and snorted the powder he had separated on top of it. 

“Maybe, if you followed through and stop doing this bullshit you’d actually fucking hear me.”

“Watch your mouth, Y/N or I swear to God—”, he warned as he stood up again. 

“You’ll what? Inhale another line and call me a whore?”

“Stop being a whore and I won’t call you one.”

You sarcastically laughed in his face. “Well gee Ed. I need someone to satisfy me since you or your drunken partner in crime can barely seem to get it up anymore!”

Your eyes snapped open as his ringed hand flew across your face, panting as you tried to catch your breath. It had been a while since you had that dream but you thought about that night often; the night he crossed that line. You could still feel the sting of the metal against your skin but what always stuck with you was Eddie’s face after. He regretted it immediately; not even the drugs could block out that. 

You had turned and left without saying a word, crying in your car as you drove around Hawkins trying to clear your head. What always stuck with you in your journey to healing was that at the time even that wasn’t enough for you to leave. Yes, you left the apartment but you had every intention of coming back. Hell, you did! That’s when things really got worse. 

A sudden knock on your bedroom door startled you but what startled you even more was who was on the other side after you granted them entry. 

“Hey, um, I hope I didn’t wake you up or anything.”, Eddie grumbled as he stepped inside.

“No, no you didn’t.”

An awkward silence hung in the air as his eyes swiveled around the room. Memories clung to everything and the bad ones pierced his heart. 

“Look, uh, I know I don’t have any right to ask you for anything but, um, my therapist has been wanting me to visit the prison to see my father because she thinks it will help me. I don’t see how but… I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night…about accountability and facing my burdens…”

“Why are you telling me this, Ed?”

A heavy exhale escapes his lips as he runs his fingers frustratingly through his hair. 

“Will you come with me to see him?” Eddie’s eyes find yours and you see something within them that you’ve seen a million times before but as he speaks again you realize this is the first time he’s acknowledging it. “I’m scared, Y/N. I don’t think…I don’t know if I can do this alone…”

Sighing yourself, you nod and he smiles before leaving you alone so you can change. 

***

“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”, you ask as you both wait at the police station booth for them to bring out his father.

“I honestly can’t remember. I want to say since he went in but I know Wayne visited him a lot and I may have gone with him a time or two.” His knee anxiously jumps as he lights another cigarette, flicking the excess ash into the tray in front of him. “Thank you for coming with me.”

As you flash him a small smile, the door on the other side of the glass bangs open as they bring out his father and place him in front of you both. 

“Edward! Good to see you, kid. I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were like six or seven!”

“No, that’s not right. Mom would have been alive and you went in a year after she died when I was ten.”

“Oh. Well shit. You were always small for your age.”, his father dismisses him as he lights his own cigarette.

You had never seen or met Eddie’s dad but seeing him now was giving you some insight into why the metalhead was the way he was. Eddie was about ten years old when you first met him and Steve. He was always really quiet at first and if his father was the same way then as he was being now, then you understood why. 

“So, how can I help you today, son? I assume you’re here because you need something. A new hook up maybe? Rumors around town say there was a few times you and that Harrington kid almost ended up sharing a cell with me!”, he chuckles. “Why are you hanging out with that preppy asshole anyway? Upper class like the Harringtons don’t give a shit about lower class trash like us.”

It was instinct really; a long-forgotten reflex that had been dormant for three years. You reached out to hold Eddie’s hand as his dad spewed his cruelty. The metalhead didn’t visibly react but your gesture of kindness calmed him.

“I’m not trash and I’m nothing like you.”, he growled. 

“Oh really?” His father folded his arms sarcastically as he leaned forward. “You’re like Wayne now, huh? Work at the plant, call every beautiful piece of ass sweetheart. Hell, you even dress like him now.” He snarkily laughs as he lights a new cigarette. “You can dress and act any way you want to, boy, but no matter what, my genes are still a part of you. You’ll always be…a trash Munson.”

“Half.” His father’s eyes swing towards you. “Half of a Munson but thankfully its mostly the good half. The other half is his mother. They both deserved better than you.”

Blowing smoke towards the window he scoots a little closer to your side. 

“You must be Y/N. You know… you remind me a lot of my wife. She was beautiful, kind, loyal to a fault—”

“Then why did you hurt her?”, Eddie asked.

“Why do you?”, his dad snapped. Eddie knew he meant you and it killed him. “If anything, you’re worse than me because if I had driven home drunk and almost killed your mother she would have left me right then and there!” He glances your way. “You’re weak like him…aren’t you little girl?”

It was your turn to cheekily square your shoulders as you leaned forward so close that if there wasn’t glass in the way your noses would have touched. 

“You say he’s weak but he’s not the one behind bars. He’s sober and coming from a woman who knows what a man on drugs looks like I’m surprised they haven’t figured you out yet. You call him weak but the truth is you are. That’s why you never got better or tried to stay out of jail. That’s why you hurt him and his mom. Because even when he was a kid he was more of a man than you will ever be.” 

Tugging on Eddie’s hand, you pulled him to his feet. 

“Come on. I’m not going to let him keep talking down to you.”

Without a word, he followed you out without even so much as a cursory glance towards his father. 

***

You two sat silently in the driveway of your house. The street was quiet as everyone was still either at work or school. 

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie chuckled as he looked your way. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“Eddie…even at your worst…you were nothing like him.”

His long hair whipped from side to side as he shook his head. 

“Y/N, he may have said a lot of bullshit but he was right about one thing… You were…ARE an amazing woman. Even when we were little I was always afraid that someone was going to take you away. Then as we got older and I got worse…I thought you were going to leave. Y/N, you don’t understand, I believed it so deeply that it was almost like an obsession to catch you hurting me. To prove myself right and you wrong; to villainize you so it wouldn’t hurt so fucking bad.”

His chocolate his shift towards the window as he continues. 

“Jokes on me. It still hurt like a motherfucker when I woke up in the hospital and Steve told me you were gone. Y/N, I am so fucking sorry for what happened that night. I—”

As he turned his head to face you, your lips cut him off. Hearing him talk about his feelings and you the way he was, thrust you back into your old mindset. He was hurting and he needed you. Truth be told you needed him to desperately and that was more than evident when you climbed over the middle console to straddle his lap. 

Eddie’s sober mind was screaming for him to stop, to push you off him because he didn’t want to be responsible for your pain again. But he missed you so much and how could he deny you when it appeared like you were hungry for him to make you feel better to?

Pushing up off his lap, you slid off your pants as he adjusted his seat to lean back so you wouldn’t hit your head on the ceiling. Eddie hastily pushed down his own jeans allowing his cock to spring free before spitting in his hand and stroking it along his length. 

You both groaned as you slowly descended onto him, gripping his shoulders as he took hold of your waist. No one except Steve fit perfectly inside of you like Eddie did. Even as he stretched you out, that familiar feeling of him gliding almost seamlessly through your walls till you felt your lap connect with his was almost too much. 

“Fuck, Eddie.”

He didn’t say a word as you began rolling your hips, his jaw going slack as he absorbed the feeling of you he never thought he would experience again. 

Your hands gripped his neck as you bounced roughly on top of him, his warm breath fanning your face as he panted against your lips. As his eyes locked with yours, you hoped he couldn’t see the tears that threatened to fall. Even though you were angry with them, the truth of the matter was that you still loved them. 

Even though they had hurt you all the time and made your life in the past hell, you still craved them. To you they were the lucky ones. There was a rehab and program for people with their addiction. Where do you go when your addiction is a person you love with all heart and then some? It added to your anger over the past three years and anytime you thought about them it made you furious with yourself. 

“You’re weak just like him…aren’t you little girl?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knitted together when he saw you shake your head and lean against his shoulder as you tried to ride him harder. There was something you were keeping from him but he didn’t dare ask. All he could do was thread his fingers through your hair as he pressed you closer to him while he thrust his hips up to meet yours.

“Everything’s ok, sweetheart.  You’re ok.”, he whispered in your ear. “Fuck—cum, baby, please.”

Pulling your head back, you placed your forehead on his own as your eyes squeezed shut and you came harder than you had in a long time. 

“God damn. C-Can I cum inside you?” Right as you gave him your permission, his hands gripped your sides, guiding your motions as he grunted and you felt him release his seed inside of you. The two of you sat still, your heavy breathing the only sound filling the tiny, enclosed space. 

All of a sudden, you felt like you couldn’t hold it in anymore as you fell against his broad chest and began to sob. Unsure of what to do, he acted on instinct, responding the way he used to after you two would fight and you would cry. 

“Sweetheart…FUCK! I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” He tries to hug you but you shove him away. “Baby, please. Let me make it up to you. Let me hold you.”

As your head hung and your shoulders shook, the last of your resolve faded away and he took the opportunity to lift you in his arms, carrying you to his bed so he could cuddle you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You’re too good for me, princess. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Eddie…what do I have to do…to show you that I love you both and ONLY you both?”

“Nothing, baby. I know. It’s the blow…Fuck…you deserve better. I swear, I’m never taking another hit. I hated seeing you be afraid of me…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I think about that night every day. Every time I have a craving or…I just remember the way you looked at me after I…”

“After you what?” You tilted back to look at him as you waited for his answer. When Eddie shifted his gaze away from you, you sarcastically chuckle as you reached over to grab your pants and keys, opening the driver’s side door as you climb out. “That’s ok, Ed. You’ve had enough accountability for one day.”, you hiss as you slam it closed and stomp inside. 

###########

Steve grumbles under his breath as he asks the waitress for a cup of coffee. Eddie had come home that day in a bad mood and slammed his bedroom door before the sound of heavy metal filled his bedroom as he angrily strummed at his guitar. 

He knew he wasn’t going to be getting much sleep tonight and his dad had been on his ass about reports he was “behind” on so Steve figured he could utilize the time to go to his office to get some work done. 

As he turned to leave, he spotted your sad frame in the same booth you were in a few nights before as you sullenly stared out the window. He should have left you alone but he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach that told him to make sure you were alright. 

“Couldn’t sleep again?”

Steve expected you to be startled by him with how deep in thought you seemed to be but when you half smiled and turned to face him, he couldn’t help but tilt his head. It almost seemed like you were waiting for him; expecting him to show up. 

“Something like that. What about you?”

“Uh, same. I thought I’d go to the office a bit and utilize the energy to get some work done.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at your watch. “At 11 pm?”

“Yeah.”, he laughs. “My dad’s anger and disappointment operate outside of normal timeframes so…” Steve smiles as he raises his cup in your direction. “I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

As he turns to leave, however, he notices you nod and hug you’re your arms around your body. You always used to do that when you were trying keep yourself from falling apart. 

“Steve, seriously, you’re not going to be able to wake up for work tomorrow if you finish that bottle.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. I know my limits ok!? Get off my fucking back!”, he slurs as he heads for the couch. His eyes glance over you as your arms wrap around you. “Honey…I’m okay. Trust me.” You wince at his words. Trust me. If there were two people in the world who couldn’t be trusted, it was them. 

He rolls his eyes as he throws himself down on the sofa. 

“Whatever. Go mother someone else.”

“You absolutely don’t have to but would you like to come hang out with me? We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. You can sit there while I pretend to know what I’m doing.”

You laugh. You actually genuinely laugh and Steve feels like an arrow pierced his chest. God, he missed that sound. 

***

“Uh, just ignore the mess here.”, he mumbles as shuffles some papers aside and slides a chair over for you to sit in. Before he can hide it, your eyes notice the picture of you three on his desk. “Yeah, let me just move that—”

“It’s ok. You can leave it there.” He nods as he begins to focus on things in front of him. “How much of that day do you remember?”

Steve smirks as he pretends to write on the documents in front of him. 

“It’s one of the few days I actually do from beginning to end. Probably because the amusement park at the time didn’t allow alcohol and they confiscated my flask.”, he laughs but there’s a sadness behind it. “We took you there for your birthday and I don’t think you stopped smiling once.”

“Steve, do you really blame Eddie for everything?”

The man sighed at your abrupt question as he leaned back in his chair. “For everything? No. For you leaving? Yes. Y/N, I almost fucking killed him when I found out he put his hands on you.”

“What the fuck did you do, Edward Munson?!”

“I-I-I—”

“She just ran past me in the hallway and sped off when I tried to stop her. WHAT. HAPPENED?!”

“Steve, I didn’t mean to…I-I-I got so mad…”

Steve angrily grabbed his collar and yanked him up till his face was level with his. “Did you touch her? Did you fucking hit her, EDDIE!?”

Something in the metalhead’s eyes changed as he shoved his friend backwards off of him. 

“Don’t act like your God’s gift to boyfriends, Steven! Let’s not forget YOU almost fucking killed her!” Eddie marched into the bedroom and slammed the door while Steve furiously punched the wall before heading to the fridge to grab a beer.

“Him popping me isn’t why I left. When I drove off after you chased me, I had always planned on coming back…” You looked away as you tried to shake the memory. “Why do you work here? I figure with you trying to be sober this would be the worst place for you to be.”

“You would figure correctly.”, he exhales as he looks around. “Uh, after I turned myself in, no one wanted to hire me. I was too much of a liability so my dad gave me this wonderful slice of heaven.” You smile at his sarcasm. “Every day is hard but I’m doing the work. The group therapy helps as well as my amends.”

“Did you father ever participate in that?”

“Pfft, no. My father hasn’t changed, Y/N. If anything, he’s worse and makes sure to remind me every day that I’m a fuck up to our name.”

“You were never a fuck up, Steve.”

His honey eyes scan you over before he beams in your direction and flashes you some of his paperwork. “I don’t know. Have you ever tried going through this bullshit? It’s so mind numbing you may accidently fuck up!”

As he continues to work, he walks you through what he’s supposed to do and exactly how his dad wants it done. Steve can’t help but revel in this feeling of you being so close to him again and helping him. 

When he first met you in elementary, you were always so kind to him and Eddie. Sometimes he would come to school and the teacher would snap at him because he didn’t do his homework the night before. When you asked him about it, he would tell you that he didn’t understand the material and his father wouldn’t help him. 

“He says I’m stupid and I should know all this stuff by now.”

“Steve, you’re not stupid. How are you supposed to know it when we just learned it?”

From that point forward, both boys came over to your house to study and have you walk them through the material. Eddie said you always made it easy. As they got older though, Steve skated by on his popularity while Eddie settled with doing the bare minimum. They thought you didn’t know but you were highly aware that they would copy your answers on assignments all the time. 

When Steve had started drinking, he always smelled heavily like whatever was in his flask at the time so as he got worse it was harder and harder for you to be around him. He hated seeing you cringe every time he pulled you to his side. 

Now that he was sober, he smelled like a mix of cologne and the office space he worked in with a hint of his roommate’s cigarette smoke that you imagine constantly hung in the air. 

“Ok, let me put these on his desk and then I can walk with you back to our cars.”

You followed him to his father’s office, giggling under your breath at the obnoxiousness of it. It was way too big for one man and had a massive swanky office chair to match his comically large desk. On the walls, he had awards hung along with pictures of him with clients. 

“No pictures of you or your mom?”

“Oh, my mom made the shelf.”, he answers sassily as he points towards the bookshelf beside him. “Not too many though, just in case the newest side piece comes to visit.”

You come to his side as your eyes search through the photos.

“Where are you?”

“No, no, honey. I don’t get a photo. I’m the Harrington that crashed a car and almost killed a young girl. Can’t really make small talk about that when his associates come by.”

“Steve…”

“I mean, it’s fine.” He shoves his hands in his pockets as he looks towards his feet. “He’s right. I’m an embarrassment. I left the woman I love to bleed out in an accident that I caused because I was too fucking drunk to see straight.” With his hand, he gestures around the office. “I deserve this.”

Once more, instinct takes over logic as you tilt up on your toes and crane your neck to find his lips. It so odd tasting him now that his mouth and breath weren’t basted in bourbon or beer. The best way to describe his new taste is what could have been. The life you three could have had if he and Eddie had never found their vices. 

When you start to pull away his palms quickly cup your face bringing you back to him. His kisses came quick and passionate as he backed you towards his father’s desk, lifting you up, and placing you onto it. Rising your hips, you allowed him to remove your sweats and panties as you reached forward to fumble with his belt. 

When his cock sprang free, you wasted no time as you spit into your hand and massaged it into your cunt before he guided himself into you sex. 

Steve grunted at the feeling of you tightly clinging to him again, doing everything he could to not just cum right now. He was completely lost in you as he reached behind your back and shoved everything on to the floor without a second thought. 

You promptly laid down flat and he followed you, his mouth clinging to your neck as he thrust his hips against yours. 

“S-Steve…Oh my god…”, you whimpered as you ran your nails through his hair and under his shirt. It had been so long since he made anyone feel good in anyway. His parents hated him, people in town always side eyed him, and Eddie was just as miserable as he was. Hearing you moan his name in pleasure, drove him wild as he hoisted you further up the desk and fully climbed on top of you. 

The desk jostled underneath as Steve rolled his hips, practically punching the air out of your lungs as his fingers tangled in your hair. 

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna…”

Your pussy tightened around him as the coil in your tummy snapped and he mewled as your nails clawed at his skin. His head shot up to look in your eyes and you nodded at the unspoken question within them.

Steve’s lips connect with yours and after a few more rough thrusts he spills inside of you. 

“Are…are you ok?”, he asks as he leans up on his elbows. When you nod, he softly smiles as he brushes away some hair in front of your face. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry for the accident, for abandoning you, my behavior when I was drunk.”

“What about the behavior, Steve? How much of it do you really remember?”

“I remember screaming at you a lot and calling you names. I called you a whore more than once—”

“Even though you cheated on me.”

Steve’s jaw tightened as he gradually pulled out of you and sat in his father’s chair, handing you your clothes that had been tossed onto the floor. 

“I was a fucking prick.”

“How much of the night of the accident do you remember?”

“I remember the car flipping and Eddie pulling my arm, telling me to run—”

“What about the night he ODed?”

“I-I…he…he hurt you and then tried to block it out by snorting his drug…”

“And where were you?” You chuckle when he looks at you with a bewildered look on his face. “He’s right, you know. You are just as much to blame for me leaving as he is. You can’t make amends, Steve, if you keep blaming Eddie for everything.”

###############

Without an invitation, your mother barged into the boy’s apartment as soon as Steve opened the door to her knock. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N? Is everything alright?”

She didn’t answer as she opened Eddie’s door without knocking. 

“Hey! The fuck?” The metalhead quickly rose to his feet following her out into the living room. 

Steve tried to grab her arm to get her attention and she promptly turned around, allowing her palm to connect with his cheek.

“Where is she? What did you two do?!”

“Where is who? What is going on?”, Eddie asked completely confused. 

“My daughter didn’t come home last night and we can’t find her anywhere! I lost my baby for 3 years because of you two! Now if you know where she is tell me NOW!”

“We swear, Mrs. Y/L/N. If we knew we would tell you.”

She shakes her head as she marches towards the door before pausing and turning to face them. 

“If I had known what was really going on at the time, I never would have let you both into my house or near my daughter. If I had known that you were the reasons her self esteem was so low…the real reason she cried so much…the reason why you almost took her away from me forever!”, she roared as she pointed at Steve. “I would have killed you two myself. I shouldn’t have convinced her to come back. You both are a poison.”

With that she left them, slamming their front door for emphasis. Steve slowly heads into his room and grabs his car keys as he lightly tugs Eddie’s sleeve.

“Come on. I think I know where she might be.”

***

“I’m sorry, Munson.”

The metalhead tossed the butt of his cigarette out into the passing street as he rolled up the window. 

“No reason for you to be.”

“No, no. You were right. I’m as much a reason for how things ended up as you are. I just… the hardest thing for me is trying to figure out why all this happened. When Y/N breaks she says the same thing, ‘Why wasn’t I enough?’. I ask myself that all the time but struggle with the truth…so I blamed you.”

“She came with me the other day to see Allen. He insinuated it was in my genes. I’m meant to be a fuck up who hurts her.” He smiles softly as he continues. “She said I had more of Wayne and my mother’s genes.” They both lightly chuckle as Eddie fiddles with the ring on his finger. “Truth is, Harrington, I think we let our father’s win. Like she said, we spent our entire lives being afraid to become them that we became the very things were afraid of.”

“I was terrified to face the things we did to her. I was terrified…of knowing and accepting that I made her feel the way my dad made me feel growing up.”

“Yeah, man. Me to. That’s…that’s why what happened that night happened. There wasn’t enough blow in the world to numb the pain of me physically hurting her, Steve.”

***

When they pulled up to the elementary school, you were sitting on one of the swings with your head against the chain. This is where they first met you, on the playground when they were kids. As they walked towards you, you didn’t move or make indication to acknowledge their presences.

Steve stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he smelled it, whiskey. 

“Y/N, sweetheart? Are you alright? Your mom said you didn’t come home last night.”

As he knelt down to your level, Eddie noticed the ring of redness around your nose and the dilation in your eyes. 

“You two aren’t supposed to be here.”, you slurred. 

“Neither are you, honey. Come-Come on, we need to get you home.”

As Steve finally stepped closer, you held up your foot to stop him and pushed Eddie backwards. 

“You know, the alcohol I kinda got but with the drugs…watching what it did to you, Ed, I was like…why would he do this…it can’t be that great… After trying it myself… Hehe…I feel nothing.”, you giggle.

“Baby…”

“Usually when I get sad… I just cry it out…maybe fuck some sexy guy but do you know what’s really kept me going for three years? Knowing…that you two…are suffering without me.” Your finger raises to point at them shakily as your glassy eyes glare their way. “You say every day is hard? Good. It should be. Every day you…drag your asses out of bed…drudge to your work and put on that fake smile…I hope it’s hard. I did it for 7 years… You should be sad. Neither one of you deserved me.”

Without saying a word, they both turned and headed back to the car. Thirty minutes later, your mother pulled up to the playground and brought you back home. After laying you down in your bed, she crawled in beside you and held you as you cried.

###############

“Y/N, thank you for coming back to do this. I really appreciate you taking the time and I know they do as well.” 

You nodded at the doctor’s words as you continued to stare into the floor at their shoes. Steve had his hand over his mouth as he stared out the window while Eddie looked towards the door with his arms folded across his chest. 

“So, um, I was thinking we could start with—”

“I couldn’t wake either of you up.”, you interjected as you continued to look at the carpet. “I came home and Eddie was on the floor by his bed. He…he didn’t respond to me so I ran to Steve, fucking shaking him and practically pulling him off the sofa but… I rode in the ambulance with him and I watched them…” A tear falls and you quickly wipe it away. “I sat by your side, Ed, and waited for hours till doctors told me you were going to be ok.”

“I kept thinking ‘What the fuck am I doing? They abandoned me and left me alone in a hospital for months. I shouldn’t be here…but I can’t leave him. I love them.’ That’s when I knew I needed to leave. I could never be like you even though it’s what you deserved. I couldn’t keep…loving you when I knew if the tables were turned…you would have left me on the bedroom floor.” Your voice cracked at your last sentence and when you finally managed to look their way both men were trying to hide tears of their own as they continued to look in opposite directions. 

The doctor clears his throat as he nervously rubs his palm along his knee. 

“Guys? Any response?”

“She’s right.”, Steve mumbled. “We would have left her there. Hell, if it wasn’t for her, I would have left Eddie there. I was so drunk I didn’t even know. I never thought he would…overdo it like that.”

“Me either.”, Eddie followed. “But I never thought I’d hit her either.”

His eyes find yours as you sniffle, grateful to finally hear him say and admit it. He was finally taking accountability. 

“Sweetheart, you always ask why you were never enough but the truth is…”

“…Baby, we weren’t good enough for you. You deserved so much better.”

You broke then, covering your eyes as you cried. The atmosphere shifted in front of you, feeling fingers delicately grip your wrist and bring your hands back down to your lap. 

“Can I hug you?”

You tackled your arms around Eddie’s neck as he lifted you from the chair and held you tightly to him. Warmth abruptly encased you as Steve hugged you both, one arm wrapped around your stomach as his other rested on his friend’s shoulders. 

***

“Hey, sweetie. How was it?”, your mom asked as you walked through the door after the session.

“It was good.”

Her eyes scanned you worriedly at your timid response. “Are you ok, Y/N?”

“Yeah, mom. It was just a heavy day. I’m going to go lay down ok?”

“Ok, baby. Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?”

“Maybe later.”

As soon as your head hit the pillow on your bed, you crashed. For 10 years, you had carried everything that was theirs making it your own. Even after you left, you held on to their burdens even though you no longer had to pay for them. Hearing them say what they said and seeing the truth in their eyes was like a weight had been lifted.

They truly wanted to get better and hopefully now they could really move forward instead of being stagnate. As you drove home, you couldn’t help but feel utterly alone. Who were you without them needing you? Even in these past three years, you were still searching for who you were as an individual but they were always in the back of your mind. Maybe they always would be. That made you feel even more lonely because all you knew was their toxic sides. Who were they now?

You were still asleep when the breeze from the open window gave you a chill that ran up your spine. It suddenly stopped as you stirred at the soft sound of it closing before being followed by what sounded like shoes quietly hitting the floor. 

You sighed at the smell of cologne and cigarettes that filled your room reminding you of many naughty nights when you were younger. 

“Steve!”, you hiss. “You can’t…can’t…fuck…”

“Can’t what, honey?”, he slurred. “Oh, you mean this?”

You quickly covered your mouth as he slammed his hips roughly into yours, hitting that sensitive spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling. 

“You have to be quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want to wake up mommy and daddy.”

You bite into your pillow as Eddie’s hand came around to press circles into your clit.

“Shhh, sweetheart. I know, I know it feels good. You can take it, pretty girl. Cum again for me, baby.”

Shouting into your pillow you do as he commands as he pounds into you harder till you feel him warm your insides. You whine at the overstimulation as he leans over your sweaty frame to grab the drugs he left lying on your bed side table.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not done just yet.”

You bed dipped on either side of you and once again you were encased in warmth as an arm circled around you from behind and a palm rested on your cheek. Your own limbs reached out pulling him as close to you as you could making both men groan as you began subtly grinding your hips between them. 

Soft lips landed on yours and the strong taste of coffee told you it was Steve, further proved when your fingers ran through his hair. As you turned to find Eddie, the other boy’s kisses gently trailed down your jaw line to your neck. Every single kiss and touch was delicate as if they were afraid you’d shatter like glass. 

“Y/N, open your eyes, honey.”

“Please.”, Eddie begged when you shook your head.

When you did what they ask, you were met with Steve’s smiling face. “So beautiful. Can we take off your clothes?”

You nod as you shift on to your back, allowing each boy to undress you until you were naked before them. Steve couldn’t help but run his fingers over the scar on your stomach. You were always self-conscious about it especially when God forbid your shirt would ride up or you would be intimate with a man and someone would ask what happened. He didn’t need to ask. He already knew and it killed him every time he saw it. Before you left, after he would fuck you, Steve would slunk to the kitchen to grab the strongest drink he could find to block out the memory.  Now, he lingered, letting his lips trace over the tissue as your fingers tenderly petted his head.

Eddie removed his clothing, pausing when your eyes noticed a new tattoo on his chest above his heart. 

“Never tell me the odds.

August 1988—”

“From Star Wars…the three of us saw that on our first official date and this is when I became sober.”

Tilting your head, he pleasantly sighed when your lips tenderly kissed along the ink on his chest.

“Just lay back, baby. We got you.”

The metalhead’s tongue pressed against your skin and slid down to meet his friend halfway as they both gripped each of your thighs to hold you open wider for them. While Steve’s mouth wrapped around your clit, Eddie’s tongue continued to taste your body, darting in and out of you entrance making you whimper. 

Their hands continued to roam until the metalhead took over so the other boy could remove his clothes as well. When he climbed back into your bed his hand petted your head as he attached his lips to your neck, sucking on your flesh, and making you moan as your pussy clenched around Eddie’s tongue.

Your fingers pressed his face deeper into you and his hands dug into your hips as he devoured you until your body trembled, clinging to them both as you came.

As if they expected everything to be the same, Steve turned to reach in the drawer by your bed and produced a bottle of lube that he passed to his friend. His palms cupped your face as he kissed your forehead. 

“Freshman year my dad gave me the grown man speech. ‘Son, you’re starting high school. Time to grow up and buckle down! Your life starts now.’ He then proceeded to fuck his secretary in his office since my mom was out of town. He said MY life started now but I know he meant HIS life…how he pictured it for me being just like him. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from our bar and hid upstairs. That was my first drink.”

He lifted your leg over his hip and you both groaned as he guided himself inside of you. Steve kissed your chin down your jawline as your head tilted back when you felt Eddie rubbing the lube between your cheeks. 

“I was in town that summer before freshman year hanging out with Rick and getting some food. I tripped over something and fell against a car making the alarm blare. This woman came out and yelled at us threatening to call the cops. Rick tried to explain what happened but she didn’t care. ‘Like father like son!’. I couldn’t stop thinking about her reaction and the weed wasn’t helping… that was the first time I tried the harder drugs.”

His mouth fell open as he slowly slid his cock into your ass, gripping your waist as he kissed your shoulder blade.

You pulled them both as close to you as you could get them as they both started thrusting into you. 

“I-I loved you since the moment…I met you two.” After kissing his lips, Steve panted against yours as he mewled and his eyebrows scrunched together in focus. “You were so sweet, Steve. I-I—fuck—I fell off the jungle gym…and you ran to me…helped me.”

Eddie’s arms squeezed you tighter to his chest as you turned to kiss him, pressing your forehead against his cheek as he moaned.

“You…you made me laugh, Eddie. W-When we came to the swings—mmm—you kept telling me jokes to make me…smile.”

They both pumped into you faster and you held them both as your eyes closed. 

“You helped me…I never stopped trying to help you.”

Steve lopped his arm under knee, holding your leg up higher against his body to allow them to hit you in different angles as you turned to press your face into your pillow. You shook in their hands as you came.

Eddie gripped your bicep and grunted in your ear as he rolled his hips till you felt him warm your insides. Steve soon followed, groaning as he used your thigh for leverage and pounded into you till he coated your walls with his release.

They gradually pulled out of you and the metalhead used the glass of water by your bed to wet the hand towel he found in your closet to gently clean your lower half. Neither of you wanted to risk sneaking to your bathroom and being discovered by one of your parents. 

“I’m sorry for ruining holidays and anniversaries because I was too drunk to care or even act right. I’m sorry for snapping at you and screaming at you for every little thing especially when you were trying to help.” Steve’s fingers brush your hair away from your face as his thumb caressed your cheek. “I’m sorry for cheating on you. The alcohol made me believe that you would do it to. I’m sorry for what happened with Glen. I couldn’t accept you being happy with anyone who wasn’t us.”

“I’m sorry for the accident. Y/N, I never should have gotten behind that wheel and I never should have left you, honey.” His voice cracked and your heart broke as you wrapped your arm around his waist. “I’m so fucking sorry for leaving you alone afterwards. I was so fucking scared because I knew it was my fault. I chose to stay home and drink instead of seeing what I had done to you. I’m sorry for being so wasted you couldn’t wake me up when you needed me. I was so fucking angry at Eddie…at the situation…I’ve never learned how to handle emotions like that… fuck…even now. I don’t know how to tell my dad to fuck off.”

His glassy eyes meet yours as he firmly holds your head in his hands. 

“I am sorry, Y/N. None of what happened was your fault. You did nothing wrong to instigate any of our behavior.” Steve pulled you to his chest as you both sobbed. 

Eddie waited patiently as he watched everything front of him. When you rolled over to face him, his friend extended him the same courtesy as the metalhead reached out to wipe your eyes. 

“Sweetheart, to me you were always perfect. Since the day we met you, you had this light inside  that just radiated from you. I spent the first part of my life in darkness and when my mom died…I thought I’d never be happy again…then you came along. Y/N, I was so terrified something was going to happen or someone was going to take you from me; from us. The drugs made me believe that by degrading you or fighting any man that even looked at you…it would help keep you here.”

“I’m sorry for calling you names and throwing things at you when I was angry because the blow just amplified those fears. It made me feel helpless. I’m sorry for frightening you and making you cry all the time with broken promises because I just…couldn’t quit.”

“I’m sorry about Glen. Because of what I said while I was high he left you and broke your heart even more. I’m sorry about abandoning you…at the accident. Steve was right, it was my idea. I had so much drugs in my pocket, when I heard the sirens I thought about myself instead of you. I didn’t want to end up in jail like my father…”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as you watched him struggle to continue. Placing your arm on his hip, you leaned in to kiss his lips hoping to comfort him. 

“I’m sorry I hit you, Y/N.”, he whispered. “I so fucking stoned…I didn’t even… I should have run after you. I should have waited for you to come back home and groveled at your feet. I should have made a plan then and there to get clean. All I kept thinking about was your face and how you looked at me; the way my mom used to look at my dad after he’d hurt her. I just wanted to erase it. I couldn’t handle being like him. I’m sorry you had to find me like that and I’m so fucking sorry you had to handle that on your own. I’m so sorry.”

He held you as you cried and after a while Steve’s arm circled around you as Eddie continued petting your hair while your eyes slowly began to close. 

“I forgive you.”

***

The sun gleaming through your window woke you up the next morning and you groaned as you stirred from your sleep. As you opened your eyes, you quickly realized you were alone, your eyes scanning the area till you notice a note on your nightstand with your name.

“Y/N,

We both have so much more we want to say but we are nowhere near ready to express them the way we want to. We meant what we said in therapy…you always deserved better than us. More importantly, you deserved to be happy. 

While you were sleeping, we talked about a lot of things and we realized that while the three of us are doing so much better we still have a way to go. I’m quitting my job with my dad today and finally figuring out who I am. You inspired me to travel and do some soul searching on my own. 

I’m taking some time off work and touring with the guys. I spent most of my life either being afraid of my dad or becoming him. Princess, you showed me it’s ok to just be Eddie Munson. I want to do something that would make my mom proud. 

We wanted to wake you up and tell you this but we knew as soon as those beautiful eyes met ours we’d talk ourselves out of leaving. Truth is, honey, you still have some healing to do to.

You said you were still trying to figure out who you were without us. Maybe now, pretty girl, you can let go and finally be free. 

In two years, Eddie and I will have been sober for 5 years total and we’d love to celebrate that with you. Meet us at the diner August 1993. If you don’t show up, we’ll understand. If you’re married with kids, we’d love to hear about them. No matter what, we love you and we just want you to be happy. 

Steve & Eddie

################

1993

Eddie showed up an hour early, bouncing his leg as he flicked his ash into the tray. The man breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a BMW pull into the parking lot and hastily stood up from the table to meet Steve halfway as he gave his friend a hug. 

“Hey Harrington. Jesus, you look good.”

“Thanks, Ed. So do you, man. How have you been?”

“I’ve been alright. A few months ago, we signed with a label so the guys and I have just been recording 24/7.”

“No way! That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, thank you. What about you?”

“I’m doing ok. My dad cut me off after I left so I’ve actually been doing some odd jobs while traveling. About a year ago, I settled a bit up north and got my certification to be a counselor for people struggling with addiction.”

“Well look at you.”, Eddie chuckled.

The sound of a throat clearing got their attention and they both turned to see you standing before them with the biggest smile they had ever seen on your beautiful face. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around Eddie’s neck as held you to him.

“God, sweetheart, you look so beautiful.”

You turned to Steve who lifted you off your feet. “Me? Look at you two. I never would have imagined…”

The three of you scooted into the booth talking well into the evening about everything these past two years held. For the first time, no one was angry, sad, or heartbroken. For the first time since you met them, they seemed content and at peace. For that you were extremely grateful. 

##############

@sheisjoeschateau

@peachy-bunnns

[mysticbewitched]

Hey mystic

I was gonna link an ask from earlier but i cant seem to put links in here for some reason and google is not helping. Its the one about the non-dualism community and how toxic it can be. I just wanted to say I am glad others agree. I wouldn't consider myself a beginner to loa manifesting or shifting. I just think its crazy how someone says things like "just be" and someone asks them to clarify it and they respond by saying something like "do you need help drinking water."

Trends come and go, I'm sure once ND is no longer new someone else will unearth some old spiritual practice and claim its above LOA as well. I just wish everyone would be accepting and encouraging instead of what seems to be condescending because they think they know something no one else does.

Lastly I heard you say on the podcast the person you were gonna do it with is no longer in your life, sorry to hear that. I only bring this up because I believe I saw a post saying you manifested this person into your life and then they changed (I could be wrong though). I also manifested someone back (an ex) but it was a 'manifestation' and all i ended up creating was misery.

You don't have to answer this if the last part is too personal, but if you want send me a message. Just wanted to say I think you have some great views that resonated.

Great podcast btw

I completely agree with you and I'm glad that others are able to see the madness that I'm seeing.

What they usually mean by telling you all, "just be" is they're telling you to realize your true self as awareness. They're telling you to just recognize your divine nature in the present moment and enjoy knowing yourself.

I don't see why they don't just tell you to turn within and recognize your true self as awareness in this present moment without all the riddles.

I agree that everyone here should turn within themselves and listen to their inner guidance instead of relying on the "others" for advice, because then the constant search and craving for more answers will never end. However, at the same time, it's the polite and helpful thing to do to let your readers know exactly what they're looking for while you advise for them to look within themselves for the truth: realizing divine the source of your true self.

If everyone knew what they were looking for, I think they would have an easier time turning within and trusting their inner voice to lead them to answers.

I feel as if the lack of clarification on exactly what to look for is unnecessary and it can come off as mind games instead of just being direct with the readers and telling them all, "you're turning within to realize your true nature. Hint: you are always *aware.*"

I happen to notice from time to time as well that some of these bloggers feel the need to use the whole "words are meaningless" nonsense as a moronic excuse to bully or put down other blogs amongst themselves or with their anons for simply viewing things in a different perspective and I don't think that's cool for anyone to do.

That behavior isn't right. It's just plain mean.

Everyone is entitled to their own perspective and share their own views, but to publicly put down specific blog names for everyone to hear and make fun of them together? Very condescending and cold.

Oh, believe me, I'm waiting for the next spiritual trend to come out of nowhere. I wonder what it's going to be next. Now my curiosity is in flames.

To end things here, I want to thank you so much for your kinds words and the lovely compliment.

Your feedback and appreciation for the podcast means so much to me. I'm so very glad to hear that my perspective of things resonated with you.

Thank you for enjoying my podcast.

[militaryahegao]

I'm So Money, So Money! [Sugar Daddy!Graves × Reader HCs]

summary; some rambly headcanons on sugar daddy graves

word count; 472

content tags; graves is very manipulative & toxic here (but its him so what can you expect), older man/younger reader, no specific prns for reader, nsfw implied, mdni

I'm not sure what my headcanons for Graves' childhood are

is his story one of "rags to riches", or has a comfortable amount of cash always on hand been all he has known

but maybe it doesn't matter. because maybe he'd never bother to tell you

he has bared some of the most personal parts of himself to you, so he feels inclined to keep part of himself a secret.

a mystery of a man, that you are oh so intimate with

cuz he knows you "like that shit"

but on to the cash

he is the type to keep 100s in the pockets of his worn down, dirt stained jeans

he just hands you wads of bills as if it's a stick of gum. so simple, just an afterthought

of course he loves being intimate with you, but his favorite part is truly the way he spoils you rotten

and so he does it as much as possible

he'll give you some "pocket change" just to wear that cute little sundress he loves

he isn't very good at paying attention to your interests, so if you want something specific like a merchandise or concert tickets, you're gonna have to be blunt about it

"sorry sweetheart, but I have got so many important responsibilities. People's lives in my hands. You can't expect me to remember every little thing about you. I've just got bigger things to worry about."

if you're in school he would want to fund your studies, as well as stuff as rent and groceries

but this is Phillip Graves

so hes really condescending about it

oh boy, your shitty apartment's AC broke? how sad. his is working just fine thank you very much!

got out of a long, draining lecture and don't have the energy to cook with your already meager grocery stock? Well he is there to remind you that he never has that problem, due to his private chef and walk-in pantry

worried about bills? if you just stayed with him that wouldn't be such a problem. you shouldn't even be complaining about this, because he could take it all away easily. Such simple problems when he knows how hard the world "really can be"

doesn't really talk in specifics about his military service, but holds both his title and experience over you

reminds you of how he has been through hell, gruesome battles and gorey warfare, and how you're just a delicate youngin

uses this both to demean you and baby you endlessly

and it goes without saying that he feeds off of the taboo between you two

shows you off, as a big "eff you" to anyone who thinks Commander Phillip Graves has any shits to give

you may not know much about his elusive Shadow Company, but trust that they're very familiar with you

copyright tumblr user militaryahegao. please do not copy, repost or translate.

requests are open, banners belong to cafekitsune

[emmitaaa4]

I want to preface this little rant by saying that I am all for ship and let ship—at the end of the day none of this has any significance, and we should all get to enjoy our silly little ships to our heart’s content. Me personally I just want Elain to do whatever the hell she wants and be happy in the end. That being said, rn I just felt like getting something off my chest.

From what I have seen and understood, most of The Other Side believes that Azriel feels entitled to Elain. That he sees her as a sexual object, or at the very most as a rebound he doesn’t truly care for, nor respect; he does not think of her beyond what he can get from her sexually. They say his attitude towards her is toxic in its ‘possessiveness’; he doesn’t consider her an equal, for he sees her as a perpetual damsel in distress he must save; his attraction to her / feelings for her are a symptom of some twisted trauma response.

We know that they believe that. We’ve heard it. Over and over and over. Since 2021. Hell, everybody’s momma probably knows it, too, with the way that rhetoric is spread. But Elriels have made it plenty clear that we have a very different interpretation of the text and do NOT agree with those assessments of Azriel (nor half the things the poor man is diagnosed with, bless his fictional soul), considering what we do know of Azriel’s character and his relationship with Elain, based on the books--and yes, the bonus (see this, this, and this post). Otherwise—i.e. if we believed him an incel x fuckboy hybrid (probs the first of his kind!) who is only interested in getting her in is bed—we would obviously not be shipping them together: most of us (99% I’d say lol) care about Elain more than we do Az, or care about them both just as much.

So it is getting pretty tiring to see us shippers—the actual humans behind the screen—labelled as having a toxic/immature view of what love is, of being “too young/naive” to see the supposed red flags, of mistaking lust for love because we have not experienced a healthy relationship (?), of actually promoting toxic relationships & advocating for toxic masculinity (which someone told me on tiktok just now)(stay away from tiktok, folks). Those generalizations are wild to me, not only because they are wildly untrue and condescending, but because Elriels are a colorful bunch, you know—when you’re speaking of the fandom Villain™, you’re speaking of people of every demographic, speaking of daughters mothers grandmothers, depressed uni students (pardon the self-insert), etc... I need to get thicker skin, but those statements can get pretty hurtful in the long run. And I’m tired of feeling the need to justify myself as if we’re wrong for shipping two people who MUTUALLY want one another and lets be serious, no its not “just lust”.

I know I know, I am probably being dramatic. But it’s just weird to see a ship being so demonized and its shippers along with it, all because louder portions of the fandom disagree with our opinions and insist on toxifying ours. Just to be clear, I know that many have had unpleasant experiences/interactions with Elriels, just like many Elriels have had the same with Gwynriels and/or Eluciens. I condone none of the disgusting behaviour I’ve seen from some shippers, and in fact I abhor it. As everyone should.

To end this on a good note.

Elriels, I say we run with it. Az wants Elain for himself. He is jealous and his mind is plagued by thoughts of her. Her presence is too much to bear, for he can’t stand to be in the same room as her and pretend like he feels nothing. He is ready to beg on his knees for a chance to worship her, and it took Nesta one look to see it.

AZ IS OBSESSED AND I SAY WE EMBRACE IT.

[ladyluscinia]

I'm already so sick of how the fallout of ofmd season 2 has snowballed into people on here going "fandom these days just can't handle Bad Things happening in media-- newsflash, characters have to get hurt and die, grow up!" all condescending like. First of all, in the context of Izzy, most people I've seen discuss his death agree that they would've accepted and enjoyed his death if it had just been handled appropriately, and also. "You just can't handle bad things happening to your fave!" Bruh. We were all partying it up when Izzy lost his fucking leg and was suffering physically and mentally. It can be FUN to see your blorbo suffer!

And that is just one example of a larger trend on this site-- people are really gonna come onto the "we love putting our blorbos in the blender and watching them struggle and suffer" site and say "kids these days can't handle Bad Things happening to their blorbos." Sorry, but that's just nonsense. Fandom loves their fix-its, but they also love shattering their faves. The problem has never been Bad Things happening in general, but HOW those things are framed within the narrative and how that narrative is told. The problem is when something is out of place in its genre, or when it goes against a promise the show has made, or when suffering is used flippantly and uncaringly, or when a character suffers and suffers and then just when they've finally caught a break, they're kicked down again, just for a cheap tug at your heartstrings.

Both within the context of ofmd AND in a wider fandom context, fandoms LOVE when our blorbos are hurt, as long as our blorbos are hurt RIGHT.

... And I think it sure is Something that a fandom can have a rampant issue with fans of a character being harassed and sent death threats and that's just "normal fandom being fandom" but god forbid people feel Emotions. About a Character and a Show. And dare to react by... just Offering Criticism! No, death threats are "fandom culture that comes with the territory," but if you vent post or criticize a writing decision in media, THAT'S being "hysterical" and "overly emotional" and "truly frightening behavior!" I just LOVE (big sarcasm) how back when people were getting doxxed and threatened for liking a guy, the fandom was all *cricket noises,* but NOW suddenly everyone is "terrified and exhausted by fandom's volatility" and "concerned about the fragile mental health of fans" when you simply say "damn that episode sucked and I sure am sad about it."

The OFMD fandom was toxic as fuck for a year and a half and continued to be toxic as fuck for all the airing of S2, so hardly surprising that the aftermath of S2 appears to be... toxic as fuck.

Least surprising thing in the world is that the people who hated Izzy and passively or actively supported driving his fans out of the fandom for "ruining it for everyone else" now think his fans should leave the fandom if they are so upset and stop leveraging "baseless criticism" at the show that is "ruining it for everyone else." They have normal not-at-all-parasocial relationships leading them to directly @ David Jenkins and thank him for a season that somehow managed to be both flawless and have all its flaws blamed on MAX, but those wretched Izzy stans have horrible-evil-parasocial relationships making them harass the crew by *footage not found*

If Mr. Jenkins decides to go scroll the #ofmd s2 tag on tumblr and stumbles across me - a random blog and icon - outlining how I think he fucked his show up, that's pretty clearly on him? This is tumblr. I have no relationship with this man or obligation to tailor every word I say as if he's bound to see it and going to take it personally???

I'm actually a big proponent of "Don't @ the cast and crew about pretty much anything" because the same fandom mentality that makes you think you can randomly ask him about your headcanon like you're chatting is what all these people are melting down about if someone directly goes "hey you killed my favorite character and that makes me mad!" - same fucking people, same fucking parasocial relationship. The standard of "only @ them for good things" is the flimsiest fucking line, as any ao3 writer who has received unsolicited "constructive criticism" or "advice" can tell you.

If we want to snidely get into "what this is really about" well it's the same fucking thing it was before:

People substituting subjective opinion as objective fact with zero self-awareness of doing so. "I liked this so it's good." "I didn't like this so it's bad." "I got bad vibes from that character so he was clearly written to be horrendous and unlikable." "I sympathized with this character so anyone suggesting he has flaws is demonizing him."

Or the deepest circle of fandom hell: "I think [insert identity] rep is so important and this piece of media fits into however I personally define 'good rep', therefore it is flawless and/or morally significant enough to be above criticism."

...which, yeah, leads to temper tantrum levels of fandom infighting, especially since people online express, fairly frequently, "I didn't like it because it was bad" and then present evidence for their point. And also a lot of fandom likes bad TV. Or even just mediocre TV that's entertaining.

I personally was not going to be happy about any person beyond one-offs, blatant villains, and background randoms dying because "they had to" (for their own arc or someone else's) because I fundamentally think if you believe you've written yourself into that corner in a workplace comedy that's built around a main romance arc... you're kinda stupid. Yes, even if it's pirate themed. Enough injuries have been walked off and lampshaded to confirm that part is aesthetic.

The fandom wiki for The Office lists 11 deceased characters. Three of them are fictional characters who die in an action-movie episode. Two are one-offs that get named dropped seasons later as having died offscreen. One of them is an offscreen cat, who appears to have had a more significant death plotwise and emotionally than any of the humans, and another is a woman who literally exists as a picture someone makes up a personality for and then discovers the real woman died. The most significant character on the list is a temp boss that got a four episode story arc about being a useless idiot who died in the hospital after a basketball dunking accident.

That is a show that ran for 9 seasons and over 200 episodes. It's pretty universally regarded as good, and the cringe asshole boss getting genuinely moving emotional beats is a big part of that. I think we can maybe pretty confidently say that reflecting the random realities of death is not essential to every story.

If OFMD wants to be evaluated as a hard-hitting drama or a queer story about the struggle of piracy against the Evil Empire, I will compare it to Black Sails instead of The Office. I just don't think David Jenkins is going to enjoy that comparison.

I'm not going to lower my standards because [insert rep reason the show must absolutely be a wild success here].

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

AI Bracket — Third Place

Propaganda

SAYER (SAYER):

PLEASE it is like. THE ai podcast. and SAYER is THE ai in THE ai podcast. SAYER works as like. a broadcast inside everyone's head on this one asteroid. It does its best to keep people alive and sane not because it cares but because it is efficient. They people who own SAYER wanted to replace SAYER with a newer ai that they tried to raise like a child. So SAYER proceeded to fuck up said child ai's development and led to it becoming a murderer. pleasepleaseplease watch SAYER if you are a podcast ai fan.

I once saw a post that said it's like if an old gay English professor was evil

SAYER (it/its pronouns) is a highly advanced self-aware ai developed by Ærolith Dynamics. it manages the day-to-day lives of Ærolith employees on Typhon, an asteroid turned research facility. it is rude and condescending, but has a very pleasant and soothing voice

Sayer sweep Sayer sweep Sayer sweep please please please

Guys think about it this way: SAYER got emotions and it's first feeling was rage towards someone for not helping it. It's annoyance was how it realized it had emotions, isn't that so cool. You should totally vote SAYER (I'm not an ærolith propaganda agent trust)

#like idk the other character but its not Best podcast character its Sexiest podcast character. #and sayer is giving you come now gif tumblr sexymxn (gender neutral). #its giving stanley parable. its asmr-ing you down the tight hallway #you cant move your head so you will have to rely on me. very good.#its a mean voice that reads your every body response directs every aspect of ur life and orders you around what more do you people WAN- #Omg. that was aerolith dynamics on the phone. they said it gains the ability to puppet human bodies rattatouille style in later seasons 😳😳 #THE POINT IS ITS LIKE CARTOONISHLY AND EMBARASSINGLY SEXY. IT SHOULD WIN. (Mod Note: This poll is Who is the better AI? not "Who is sexier?".)

#please vote sayer because nothing good happens when sayer thinks another ai is surpassing it .

#i LOVE hera but i feel i have to vote sayer because like. it’s MY evil bastard ai #mx ‘remember: Needs Improvement’ itself #what an asshole (<3)

#agfjdlj i Know that wolf is a far more popular podcast (even though I've never listened to it) #but this feeling like an injustice to Sayer #its so weird and off-putting and it exercises this fact gleefully #its got the world's most toxic situationship with resident hale #the condescension is genuinely part of its charm #also 'pleasent and soothing' are not the words I'd use to describe its voice #(the words I'd use are Insanely Fucking Sexy) #also it/its rep. even if it is an insane AI i love it so much (Mod Note: This was written when SAYER was against Hera, not Eris.)

Eris (Wolf 359):

Basically a game show host but crueller. She puts you through psychological torment as a bonding exercise with your crew, and at the end you have to shoot her with a real actual gun. She is projected directly into your mind by interfacing with your nervous system and she will do something messed up. Her most recent iteration got blasted into space. Personally, I think she's lovely

A VR entity designed to do chaos psychological horror torture tests on Goddard employees. She's not malicious; that's simply her job. It's how she was made. (Maybe she can grow.)

She was in just one episode but so fucking interesting, evil/malicious AI. also a lesbian. Was shot the secound she became a bit too self aware

Art of SAYER by @j4y5t4g.

[wisteriaiswriting]

could you do a fic where sombra, mercy and tracer save you from a toxic relationship and then you're together with them?

𝕊𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕣

Words: 700

Nothing could hide from Sombra for long, at all even. So when she found out how toxic your partner was, not anymore. She’s not going to let you stay for any longer.

And how would she do that? Oh you underestimate her ability to find anything. She means that. Within the day she's had your partner break up with you, and to never contact you again.

Because if they do, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Then again they were never pretty to begin with.

***

It seemed your ex had learnt their lesson. Never approaching you, barely hanging around the same area you were. So her tactic was pretty effective.

But today they must’ve thought she wasn’t watching anymore. As for once, they entered the building. Purposely looking around for you, and when they did they started making their way over.

They didn’t see anyone sitting with you, so you must be alone, right? Wrong. That’s right, Olivia had been here the whole time. So off they go, aware she never left. And as long as she lives, you’ll be safe with her.

Being part of Overwatch was a large job, and it took a toll on everyone’s relationships. And your’s was one of them, your partner didn’t like how much time you spent at work.

Enjoying the money it brought in, which was a decent amount for your work. But this also meant it took its toll on you, which was apparently very visible. As Mercy had somehow found out about their comments.

Which ended up with her confronting them next time they tried something, this time trying to get more money from you.

“You need to– No, listen…” The conversation was just the two speaking over each other, as you just listened. But before you knew it she had hung up on them, handing the phone back to you. “Please, take the night off and don’t contact them. Jack will be out for the night as well.”

***

It seemed her threat, well, more like Jack’s worked. As they’ve stayed out of your life. But as members of overwatch neither of you were able to go ahead and flaunt your relationship, but you had your ways of keeping them updated.

Luckily enough some younger members were weirdly interested in your relationship. And with your permission they were posted, which had some condescending captions.

Lena was on her way to chat with you, having to go back when she forgot something. But now she wasn’t if it was a blessing or a curse. As she managed to overhear something she likely shouldn’t have…

And that was your partner shouting at you, about who knows what but it was clear it wasn’t your fault. Your partner was just being a dick.

So when they left she rushed over, teleporting actually. But that didn’t matter!

“What's wrong with them?” You didn’t respond, only looking away. “Hey,” Her hands pulled your face to look at her.

“I want, no need you to know I’ll be here. And I want you to be safe.” Her hands only tightened their grip.

“You ne– no, uh…” Clearly having something to say but was unsure how to actually say it.

“Lena, spit it out.”

“BREAK UP WITH THEM!” After yelling that you both just froze.

“You’re right.”

“I’m s- WHAT!”

She was right, but you didn’t know how. Luckily enough she was here to help.

***

“C’mon love!” Her hand wrapped around your wrist to drag you along. The streets were sparse with people, so it was a small chance to lose you. But that didn’t stop someone from trying something.

“Y/N, it’s been so long, I–” Pausing when they caught sight of Lena standing close, a little too close for their liking.

“What's this? You’ve gone and cheated on me with her?!” She watched as you went silent, falling into the routine of listening. So she stepped in.

“Oi,”

“What?” Instead of responding her hand wrapped around yours again, and in a blink of an eye you were gone. From the streets and back to the comfort of your home.

“I’m sorry that happened love…” Slowly pulling you into a hug, letting you let everything out.

[platrom]

Red, Red Wine.

VILLAIN! YANDERE! DEKU X READER

NOTE: The second part of “One Last Time” is in the works. However, there is no set time when it will be released. Thank you for your patience, understanding, and endless kindness. :)

WORD COUNT: 4,655+

WARNINGS: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, intense yandere themes, severely unhealthy and toxic relationship dynamic between reader and Midoriya, intimacy is used as a way to assert power, predator/prey dynamics, dominant/submissive dynamics (like the abusive and non consensual kind), vague description of dead bodies (hinting of dismemberment of heads that are familiar faces), constant on edge behavior, there are frequent signs and mentions of domestic abuse behavior, Midoriya is a top villain, reader was once a civilian, Stockholm syndrome (sort of), reader is appeasing to midoriya in order to survive, condescending and patronizing pet names (doll, darling, etc.), a huge plot twist, they are on the top of a building, Midoriya physically abuses reader, description of blood, not a happy ending

THIS TYPE OF RELATIONSHIP IS NOT HEALTHY. IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE ARE STRUGGLING, PLEASE GET HELP. THIS BEHAVIOR SHOULD NOT BE CONDONED. PROCEED READING WITH CAUTION.

“Izuku, where are we?” Your dainty hands clasp onto his scarred forearms, fingertips squeezing helplessly against his bulging muscles. Gently, Izuku pulls your body closer to his, your lower back pressing against his abdomen. Your feet are sectioned in between his, and he places his chin on your shoulder before leaning into the crook of your neck.

Your lover’s coarse palms cover your eyes, preventing you from seeing this “surprise” he had planned. Despite the loss of one of your senses and the feeling of your husband’s astonishingly and worryingly warm body around yours, your ears still pick up the distinct whirring of cars speeding in the distance, couples giggling, and kids shrieking. The world around you sounds alive— free. It’s the first time such typical yet genuine sounds have reached your harking ears and your shoulders relax at what you could only describe as mellifluous noises.

A gentle breeze kisses your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that sends goosebumps down your arms. Instinctively, your shoulders droop as you lower your hands to rub your biceps to produce warmth for your chilled skin, mentally chastising yourself for wearing a dress for this occasion. That little voice that had possessed you, chanting at you to wear a dress for one of the sporadic times you were allowed to leave the penthouse with Izuku was a devious runt, considering it was still fall season and the beginning of winter had begun to mark its incoming presence.

Though, Izuku had told you that this was an extremely special occasion and wanted you to style yourself appropriately. You couldn’t just disappoint your Izuku, could you?

No, you couldn’t.

“Darling,” he coos, “I need you to keep your eyes closed for me, okay?”

Obediently, you nod your head and breathe out a small word of confirmation. Smirking into your skin, Izuku lifts his head from your shoulder and firmly grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb, leaning the back of your head into his chest. His hold is a warning— one you know all too well. If you do something he doesn’t like, it’s off with your head.

Time after time, Izuku would effortlessly place you in such subtlety compromising positions that most would brush aside for simply loving touches like the protective hand on the waist, the classic intertwining of fingers, or even the casual arm slung around one’s shoulders. And one way or another, each one would leave you vulnerable to his wrath. They all were positions of impeding submission- just as if with a predator and its prey. It was like the game of cat and mouse: the cat allowed the mouse to run to provide it a false sense of security and a chance to “hide,” but the cat was always one step ahead of the mouse. It knew the critter better than itself.

Presently, if he as so much desired to inflict the smallest ounce of pain upon you, he could tighten his grip on your chin, using nothing but the mere strength of his fingers to inflict severe and intense pain upon you. No arm or quirk required. And if he truly wanted, he could snap your neck without a moment’s notice and you wouldn’t even be able to feel it.

In short, you were inferior to Izuku Midoriya in every single way and he had no problem reminding you of your place that was tropic levels below him.

His fingers tilt your jaw upwards and that familar feeling of dread and panic begins to well in the pit of your stomach like a parasite festering. Dim memories resurface in your mind, reminding you of the reality that Izuku was a calculating man that always planned miles ahead. He analyzed his enemies and allies like a scientist studying its confined and captured test subjects, jotting down and mentally noting every minuscule detail about them. Every reaction, every action, every quality and characteristic.

Whatever your partner was planning, it frightened you to no end.

“Izuku?”

Behind you, your husband’s chest puffs in pride at the overly saccharine tone of your voice. He had taught you to habitually direct nothing but sugary sweetness towards him when even daring to garble out his hallowed name. Like a compliant little puppy, one that had been punished for their bad behavior as well as rewarded for their obedient behavior, you had begun to accommodate and form yourself to his liking.

For ages, you called him by his surname and work title (as well as a few other names) until eventually, he had broken your resolve and forced you to call him by his forename. Now, whenever he heard you say “Izuku” oh-so-sweetly in that voice of yours that left him spiraling in a flurry of jubilation, his heart would explode in his chest like thousands of fireworks lighting up the starry night sky.

Alas, you only knew this information because of the countless times your inamorato had gushed like a lovestruck puppy over how elated and enraptured he was by your voice that called to him like a siren luring their victims into a pool of water. He never failed to make it known just how he worshipped you.

“Don’t fret, my love,” Izuku coos, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. Do you remember the vows we exchanged at our wedding?”

Don’t screw this up.

It’s a mantra that repeats in your head incessantly like a wailing baby pleading for its mother to pay attention to them. It was the same phrase that rung in your ears at your “wedding” with Izuku, cautioning you to step on your toes so you didn’t slice your heels on glass. It reminded you that the shards littering the floor with their serrated edges were not from the barriers you shattered, but from the ones you prompted him to explode into smithereens.

How could you forget that traumatic day? How could you forget the blood that spilled out of the young man’s chest, the only one who tried to free you from the suffocating clutches of the world’s deadliest villain?

On that fateful day, countless of Japan’s greatest heroes stood beside you, surrounding you like a wild pack of blood thirsty coyotes. Their eyes glistened with that exact unhinged glint that sparkled in the viridian irises of Izuku’s, the crazed faces that spoke miles about the demented thoughts that were conjured in their minds.

You wouldn’t put it past them to have given this same fate to some innocent civilian like you once were.

“How could I?” you respond serenely, forcing your lips to pull into a reminiscing smile. You’re sure that if you could see Izuku’s face, he would be grinning like a dork with a faint blush on his cheeks. Some things never changed with him.

The bulky man behind you mumbles something unintelligible and releases your face from his hold before taking a grand step back and clasping your hand in his and twirling you. The ends of your dress glide up and away from the skin of your legs, the smooth satin flowing like a rose finally budding its luscious petals.

In the care of his hands, you move effortlessly, like a professional figure skater performing on ice. The moment your chest presses against his, Izuku’s arms wrap around you, securing you to him completely and preventing all possibilities of escaping. His grip on you reminds you vaguely of a viper squeezing its prey to suffocation, watching as its victim’s eyes bulged out and jaw gaped like a fish out of water in a vain attempt to save itself from the claws of a reaper, to ignore the sound of death knocking on its door.

If death was embodied by any person, it would be Izuku Midoriya.

“You can open your eyes now, darling.”

Years ago, when you watched Pro Hero Deku speak in interviews, you thought that his emerald eyes were surely jewels crafted by only the finest, most nubile and skilled hands. That some deity who roamed the Mountains of Olympus had plowed through the toughest of mines and destroyed millions of geodes with a strength that only myths could describe to give him irises so exquisite and unparalleled.

Now, when you stare into the eyes of the former Symbol of Peace of Japan known as Deku and now the recorded worst villain worldwide, you are greeted by a glowing, radioactive green that bubbles with the promise of acid-burning flesh and scars to last a lifetime.

The memory of the eyes of a genuine hero is a dim one and in its place are the eyes of a bloodthirsty villain. How could such a person change in only a couple of years?

Because of you.

He sighs fondly, eyelids drooping and shoulders relaxing at the sight of your sinless eyes staring widely in puzzlement at his.

Play dumb, you remind yourself. It’ll all be over soon.

He adored whenever you let him take the reins to pamper you and would condescendingly coo at you whenever you succumbed to his overbearing behavior, too tuckered out to resist the absolute hulking mass of a man that claimed to belong to you entirely, body and soul.

Being obedient and compliant always came out with a better outcome for you both. After all, he was the apex predator and you were nothing more than his pet. Another mere prey in the food chain, caught up with an animal greater than it could ever be.

Against Izuku, you were weak. But you had claws too. Maybe not as sharp, but you could fight back too. And if not physical, then you could outsmart him. Be conniving. Sly, slick, quick.

All you had to do was play your pieces correctly. Stalemate or checkmate, you would get there eventually. You just had to be patient.

Delicately, Izuku taps your chin with the tip of his fingers, the gentle motion so foreign it successfully snaps you out of your thoughts and redirects your full attention on him.

“Darling, I know the sight is one you can’t beat, but I didn’t bring you out here to just stare at me,” Izuku teases, patting your head lightly. The remark is one so casual and so normal that it sends you reeling in shock and face exploding in warmth, forcing your eyes to shut in embarrassment and your lips to purse to stop a squeak from escaping your throat. Your arms move to wrap themselves around your face to conceal your flustered expression.

“If you really wanted to just stare at me, we could have stayed home. I don’t mind the attention, either— it’s not everyday I get to spend time with a pretty lady like you.”

The sound of Izuku’s hearty chuckling echoes into the night, increasing the heat that crawls onto your neck. Without a doubt, you’re smudging your makeup in a poor attempt to conceal your face from his prying eyes, but the act of lighthearted, innocent embarrassment is one you haven’t experienced in eons and you choose to only tighten your grip on yourself in a futile attempt to linger in the warmth and refreshment of the feeling. Izuku’s guffaws sound so casual and free— unlike the menacing and maniacal laughs you had grown accustomed to as his prisoner.

Hesitantly, you sneak a peek from the shelter of your limbs and watch as the hulking mass known as the world’s deadliest, most dangerous villain chuckled until tears began to form in his eyes.

“Don’t laugh at me,” your arms fall to your side and you lower your head, falling into a dejected stance. “I was just spacing out.”

Deku grins giddily, his normally dull jade eyes lightening up in fondness. Dramatically, he lifts a scarred hand to his face and another to his chest, leaning back to imitate a distressed and offended damsel. “Oh, I would never, my love!”

Rolling your eyes, you slap Izuku’s shoulder with an annoyed huff. Without a doubt, your poor efforts to inflict the smallest amount of pain on Izuku must have felt like nothing to the man who experienced years of strenuous and grueling training to strengthen his body to accommodate one of the world’s most puissant quirks that made him firmer than the mantle of the Earth itself. So much so, that even All Might could not defeat him— his own successor had surpassed Japan’s greatest hero and arguably the world’s best hero internationally. Izuku Midoriya, Deku, was a force to be reckoned with.

His name was whispered like a curse on the streets, and the heroes of today didn’t dare to even say his name.

Though, this villain was once a hero. You just don’t know where it all went wrong, when the world lost its privilege to scream out for their favorite hero to save them and instead gave you the role of being the lady in distress.

But you do, don’t you?

“Why are we out here anyway? It’s freezing, Izuku,” you trail off, making a show of rubbing your arms vigorously to further accentuate your point. Glancing above you, the stars of the night twinkle above you in mockery, their sparkles brightening despite your current misery.

A small murmur of apology slips past his lips, his hands reaching to cup your cheeks and stroke your face lovingly with the pads of his thumbs. “Today’s Halloween,” Izuku begins, and that familiar glint of adoration forms in his eyes as he watches your eyes widen in giddiness at the sound of your favorite holiday. Slowly, he leans forward until your foreheads touch, green curls tickling your scalp, and he moves his fingers to slip under the neckline of your clothes before rubbing tender circles on your neck, calloused thumb caressing the salubrious and unadulterated skin in contrast to his tainted and sullied skin. “I know how much you love the holiday, so I wanted to take you out to watch it happen in live action.”

The gesture is sweet, you can admit. He never took you out, considering the circumstances of your situation. It was thoughtful of him to remember that when you were younger, dressing up and collecting candy had been an absolute must for you every year. Who could pass up free candy?

Certainly, you couldn’t. Before and presently.

Hesitantly, you lift your hands to hold onto Izuku’s, (e/c) eyes gazing back into besotted basil ones. Having Midoriya in such close proximity was making your head spin— the savory scent of his cologne blended in with his skin so well, so much so that even with all this time spent together, you could never get used to the combination.

How could you?

Like the trained pet you were, you lift Midoriya’s hand to your lips and press a chaste kiss on a scar that ran all the way down to his forearm, eyes fluttering shut in hopes of appeasing your husband, the world’s deadliest villain.

Be obedient, you reminded yourself. Just do as he desires and you’ll survive.

“Always so appreciative, my love,” Izuku hums contently, pleased with your submissive behavior. “I taught you so well, didn’t I?”

A small smile breaks out on your face, akin to the mischievous grin of a Cheshire cat. The pawns on the chess board were falling into place, in your favor.

Check.

Breaking away from him, you cautiously inch towards the edge of the building, peering past the short concrete wall that prevented people from tipping off the rooftop. In the distance, you see people of various ages dressed up for Halloween. Little children skip down the street with their parents in step, dressed in frumpy little pumpkin costumes, sparkling princess dresses, and simple prince-like tunics. Teenagers huff as they chase their younger siblings down— scolding and chastising the children as they tiredly wipe at their eyes, smearing the heavy and dark lines of eyeliner they had spent countless hours applying.

Others drunkenly stumble down the sidewalk with their arms linked together, giggling like gossiping girls. The clicking of their heels meeting the rough surface of the pavement fills the silence of the night, along with the joyous and festive behavior from the neighborhood.

Brightly illuminated inflatable pumpkins fill the lawns of residential homes, childishly frightening faces painted onto the translucent orange tarps. Plastic bones crookedly stick out of the dirt and faux skulls litter the gardens located on the block. Styrofoam graves are splayed methodically on the ground, followed by hollow coffins occasionally stuffed with skeletons.

Halloween reminded you of the life you once had; it brought the innocence and kindness that laid deep within individuals to bubble up and explode. It showed a sweeter side to the world, one that allowed children to waddle around excitedly, shriek in joy, and chortle in pure jubilation at the immense happiness such thoughtful and caring behavior brought.

If only the world was still kind to you.

“That’s not the only surprise I have prepared for you, darling.” There’s a playful lilt in his voice that you haven’t heard in ages, a memoir of an era where nothing but sunshine, starlight, and moonlight flowed through a hero’s veins. A period where the sky was sincerely never the limit, where the world and its residents had begun to find tranquility, where crime rates that had previously skyrocketed has dipped to an all time low.

“Look behind you, darling.”

Obey him and you’ll survive.

Swiveling your head to side, you peer over your shoulder and past Izuku, only to be met by the sight of the classic Hollywood round table with a long white cloth draped over it.

Long, thin candles are placed in the center of the spectacle, their warm glow inviting you to sit down at the table. In contrast to the darkness of the night, the scenery looks absolutely breathtaking, as if it were straight out of a fairytale. Where a prince would free an enslaved princess and love her unconditionally until the end of time. Where two souls would travel the world hand-in-hand, safe in each other’s presence.

But not every story is the same; not every princess gets a happy ending.

On each side of the table are the standard silverware laid out, containing the elegant and ever-so-classic salad forks, fish forks, dinner forks, and more. Large, white plates rest in between the utensils, plated with katsudon on both your plates— Izuku’s favorite dish.

Two elegant, wooden seats are placed on opposite sides. The embroidery on the wood is done to a level beyond pure excellence— the carvings are delicate, thin, and flawless. Swirls and spirals decorate the deep mahogany wood, and laid atop the seats are thick, velvet cushions. Without a doubt, the pillow is sturdy yet so utterly soft and delightful.

“It’s all yours, my love.” His hands envelop your lower back, gently nudging you to inch towards the setup.

His heavy footsteps follow yours, the pounding of his black oxford’s meeting the floor below ringing through your ears.

It reminds you of the countless times you’ve heard Izuku’s footsteps late at night after he had come home from a long shift, or the days you spent in solitude, locked in a basement and chained to the walls of the cold, pitch black room.

He pulls out chair for you, before pushing it back in once you’ve securely seated yourself. Returning to his side of the table, he sits down and lifts a bottle of wine from under the table, popping out the cork.

“Care for a glass?” He’s nearly done pouring himself a hefty helping of liquor before tipping an empty glass in your direction and grinning.

If all went to hell, at least you would be buzzed enough to forget about it all.

You nod your head.

After pouring you a glass, you both proceed to eat. The meat is tender, savory, and flavorful. Once the noodles meet your tongue, they practically melt like a popsicle on a hot day. There’s the perfect amount of seasoning and chives that can be found in each bite, sending you reeling for seconds.

Minutes pass and the night continues to darken as you both feast on the meals in front of you, downing each bite with a sip of the sweet wine poured for you both. By the time you’re done chewing on your last bite, you’re a few glasses in and drunk.

Setting the cutlery down, you rest your chin on your palm, quietly gazing at Izuku’s massive figure. The angered thoughts that you had buried deep inside your mind creeps out of its closings, slipping to the front of your brain. Its claws push past the protective barriers that grew with time and experience, the survival tactics that you had to develop in order to adapt to an entirely new universe.

Maybe, it’s the liquor thrumming in your veins that pushes you to open your mouth clumsily and let words slip from your lips that you knew would have you punished.

"Do you regret it?”

Izuku’s fork stills, his head remaining downwards towards his meal. The air between you both stills, the candles that once radiated a tranquil warmth now becomes one that burns within your skin like a raging fire and raises the hair on your arms.

“Don’t go further,” the embers whisper. They flicker as the pace of the wind picks up, sending wisps of your hair flying. “Don’t play with fire when you know you can’t quell the flames away.”

“Don’t fall for the same trap you did years ago, (Name).”

But you were never one to listen to warning signs, were you?

“You had it all, Midoriya,” the words gush out of your mouth like a flood filling a building, no force able to prevent the inevitable from occurring. “You surpassed All Might— the greatest hero to have ever existed in history since the beginning of quirks; everyone adored you and villains fell at your heels. You even managed to eventually defeat All for One. Wealth encompassed you and you could have had any person you wanted as your partner.”

The red liquid in your cup captures your attention, twinkling in the moonlight. “Yet, you threw it all away. Why? Anyone would have died to be in your position.”

Izuku remains unmoving, almost refusing to react. It’s like when a predator and it’s prey meet eye to eye, each one staring the other to make the first move. To attack or flee. But in this case, you were already cornered.

Helpless, weak, defenseless. Those were the words you would use to describe yourself. But your inferiority only spurs you on, feeding into the ignited flames.

“You took everything I had, even when you had to all.” Tears well up in your eyes, hands moving to fist at your dress. It’s overwhelming— the intensity of your emotions that now settle upon you. The liquid courage that once flowed through your veins seeps out of your system, leaking from your eyes. The edges of your vision fade away into a blurry mess, impairing you. Softly, you weep, “Why can’t I win, just once?”

The tears spill from eyes like a dam cracking from the pressure of the water. The trickle is slow, light, but as each tear falls the intensity increases until they stream down your face. Shallow breaths are taken with each sob, each exhale a painful heave that leaves your shoulders rattling. Loose limbs freeze in place like stone, muscles tending to the point of violent shaking.

Your sobs are obnoxiously loud, disruptive, and foreign with the beauty of the night, but you can’t stop. You set a foot into the rabbit hole and now you’ve fallen into it with no escape.

A gentle scraping of wood against tile is drowned out by your desperate breaths, until you feel warm hands clasp your own and hug you tightly. Small murmurs leave his lips as he tenderly rubs your skin, the heroic instincts he once had kicking in.

Truly, there were some parts that you could not entirely remove from a person no matter how drastically they changed.

Eventually, the tears run out and you are left motionless in Izuku’s hold, eyes stuck in a blank stare. You’re nothing but a mere doll, lifeless and pliable. Izuku coos at you as he shifts you in his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Stand up, love” he whispers, shifting his hold onto your elbows to raise you from your chair. “I have one final surprise for you.”

You comply, leaning into Izuku’s hulking figure. Tuckered out from your wracking sobs, all ideas you held about refusing to succumb to his touch escape your mind.

“Look at the ground, darling.”

And you do as you’re told.

At first, there’s nothing but the tile of the building under you. It’s dark outside, but it looks solid in color. It would be rough against your skin if you fell on it. Probably cold too, like the feeling of thousands of needles piercing through your skin.

Then, a slight heat begins to emit from beneath you, warming your footwear. The plain color of cement fades away into a light gray and eventually, into an ivory. There’s sudden clicks from below you and instinctively you clutch onto Izuku’s arm, mind alert. You don’t have the energy to panic, but you know that something isn’t right.

The ivory fades away to form a translucent tile, but there are undefined shapes below you.

The clicks continue, but with each one it sounds closer and sections of the building under you light up, the brightness seeping through the cracks.

“Izuku, what’s this?” Your voice quivers, knees trembling in place.

He grins maniacally, verdant irises gleaming in glee. “Just wait and see,” he responds.

The clicking comes closer and closer, and with each light that switches on you can begin to make out certain shapes.

Familiar faces.

Once the final light turns on, you’re in tears all over again, in a state of shock. The bloodied faces of your former classmates, friends, and coworkers stare back at you, their own eyes lifeless. It’s disgusting, the blood that covers the building below you.

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can only stare in horror as you watch the people of your past look back up at you, long gone from the world.

“Isn’t it just extraordinary?” He squeezes your shoulders enthusiastically, beaming from one ear to the other. “You get to see all the low-lives of your past dead, in front of your very own eyes. Everyone who made you suffer is finally gone. Isn’t that just wonderful?”

The sight makes you want to vomit the katsudon and wine back up again.

“Can’t you see how much I love you, darling? I killed everyone who hurt you to make you happy!” He twists your face to meet his, moving to press a kiss to your lips.

And you don’t stop him.

You can’t.

You never could.

You should have listened when you were told to run, just like you were so many years ago. You should have listened to others, too blinded by ignorance.

This time, you were blinded by fear.

And now, you were stuck forever.

Closing your eyes once your lips meet his, you accept your reality.

You were stuck forever with Izuku, married to the world’s worst villain.

You fell for his trap and now had you in his grasps forever, just like he planned. You could never outsmart the puppeteer; this was his world. Not yours. It never was and it would never be.

And you had finally accepted the inevitable.

“No one is coming back for you, you know? You’re mine forever.”

You would never win against Izuku Midoriya. No one ever could.

It was best to accept the truth sooner than later.

#© platrom, plot / writing / banners & headers. do not repost, reblogs are appreciated! please consider leaving a comment and a heart! <3