#like i think the lowest i ever ended on was in the 70s

[neonseaslugs]

FINISHED THE CATALOG

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

[alevolpe]

How do the girls deal differently with anger? If it's too much, I'm mostly interested in reading your thoughts on Ami, Rei, Makoto and Minako.

Your insights are *chef kiss*.

I REALLY love this question! Srry it’s taken me so long to answer.

First of all I’ll say for all of them, it depends! Is it something out of their control? Cause if not, mf REI HINO does not stay mad about it, Her ass is sprinting to kick the problem’s ass in milliseconds, right along with Mako! But for simplicity sake, I’ll say the reason the girls are angry is something out of their control and they can only sit there and find way to deal with their emotions.. ok. GO!

Ami. Ami stresses, Ami stresses way more than people think she does. I genuinely see Ami being an extremely stressed person, to the point where I can easily see her being the one with the shortest life span. Stress is scientifically proven to have adverse effects on your health.

How does Ami deal with anger? In most situations I think she suffers in silence. She doesn’t ponder too much, she just tries to keep on going like nothing happened, cause the second she starts taking a moment to think about herself openly is the moment she catches herself “being selfish”. People around her don’t need to see this.

Ami is meant to be that one pleasant person you come across. The one to be always kind to you, no matter the day. A silent yet strong and resilient symbol of strength and comfort.

This is obv a very unhealthy mindset, which I can see Ami getting better at as she get older, but not all the way.

She HATES crying, she always has. The lowest moments in her life is where she just couldn’t cope with all her emotions and just broke down and cried, so she associates crying with “This moment is REALLY THAT BAD”, it’s almost a coping mechanism where she sees herself brimming with copious amounts of anger and emotion, yet she’s not crying, so it’s fine, it’ll be ok. The moments where she cried never ended up ok and still resonate with her.

I think Ami also finds small, yet meaningful ways to destress while coping with anger. Reading is a simple one, I think laying on the floor and taking a moment to decompress helps her too, perhaps while cupping her ears and just depriving herself of as many outside factors as possible. Listening to specific genres of music, going through her father’s sketches, and even sharing an intimate physical moment with a loved one. With Ami for me is a wild pendulum between “I need to feel as much as possible RIGHT NOW!” To “I don’t want to feel anything right now”.

Rei. Oh, boi.. Rei, when has Rei ever been angry? LOL Rei is pretty much always angry.. angry at what? EVERYTHING! Angry at the chickens for spreading the feed to the porch, angry at Yuichiro for using the wrong china for tea, angry at the man down the street, angry at the spicy noodles for NOT BEING ON SALE ANYMORE, angry at the nearest pole for standing in REI HINO’s way! EVERYTHING! But she’s right, why? Cause she’s Rei Hino!

On a deeper level, Rei’s anger is mostly directed at herself, it’s like a 70-30 split of Rei holding herself and the world and people around her to such high standards, it eats her alive. She is her biggest critic and that’s honestly why I see her having such a significant ego.. she kind of earns it. She’s so extremely diligent, yet when she messes up or the people around her do, it kills her cause she knows she should do better, she NEEDS to do better and the others need to do better too. Tho their names aren’t Rei Hino, so she can’t expect them to be perfect all the time. Rei Hino though, she’s fucking perfect, so she better not make ANY mistakes and shit, Rei never makes mistakes!

Also Rei lacks the most basic functions of self reflection.. or reflection in general, as well as self-awareness. She doesn’t have high standards on herself to please anyone but herself, so her emotions are more often heightened by the fact that they are not really based on “normal human decency/shame/standards”, but rather based from her own ‘flawless’ logic and standards. So, something so extremely insignificant can be the irrational thing to tip her over the edge to a breakdown.

Her biggest outside source of consistent pumping uncontrollable anger is her father. I really see them as two peas from the same pod, they are both arrogant, head asses who can’t get over themselves to meet the other person half-way. (even tho Rei is way more justified! Cause fuck him fr)

With all that rambling said, how does Rei deal with anger? If Rei is in a situation where she can’t genuinely go and solve the problem herself, I think she meditates. She spends sometimes up to double digits of hours just meditating. In a way the least Rei-like thing to do, but there’s just something so extremely comforting to Rei about it. She can finally detach all of her worries, her judgments and just exist, peacefully.

Mako. Poor baby.. she has dealt with anger issues since such a young age and her coping mechanisms aren’t great. In the best of times they result in: smashing someone’s face open, but if the problem can’t be solved that way… it gets way more complicated. Mako is a very reactive person: you hurt me, I hurt you. That’s her logic, but in a world so complicated how does such a simple creature manage.. poorly I tell you.

Mako does not like being angry, It’s almost shameful for her, especially around her loved ones. She doesn’t understand why she’s so frequently angry and it eats at her, to the point where she’s literally yelling at herself “why can’t you just be happy?!”. Concepts like trauma and mental illness are so unknown to her.. smart people stuff she’ll call it. get this girl a therapist RN!

How does Mako deal with anger? There are many moments where I see Mako being unable to control her anger. Taking it out on objects around her is out the question! She simply cannot afford it, if Mako grips that phone too hard is goodbye to having a phone period… so I see Mako reactively reaching for a cigarette instead. She’s not proud of it, but what can she do? She can get out and go for a run til her muscles ache, but that would expose her to so many outside factors that could risk heightening her anger. A cigarette always helps.. maybe 2 sometimes.

If her anger is not to that destructive level quite yet, she may reach for her mother’s cookbook and set her mind to a nice relaxing baking session or she can reach to that unfinished crocheted scarf and work on it a lil more, perhaps clean the whole living room instead! All activities that bring her comfort, but which are also ways to deal with her anger that would not put her into further trouble.

With her very unstable financial situation I actually don’t see her working out almost at all. She frequents the school’s sport clubs, but outside of that, she can’t just go throw weights around any time she wants. She has school, sailor business, work.. she has no time. Though this is something I see her start doing as she gets older and possible gets engaged into a better financial situation. Outside of physically fighting someone, I don’t see her wanting to let her anger manifest into physical actions (later she’ll learn that’s actually rlly healthy along with speaking about it, but this Mako has never heard of therapy of self-help.. she can barely afford a doctor, let alone a therapist that can tell her how to deal with pain).

Mina! Man.. Mina’s kinda tough. She’s really hard to read and is excellent at masking her emotions. Doesn’t matter how angry she is, if she doesn’t want you to realize she’s angry, you have a very very very low chance of figuring that out and even a lower chance of getting any readable confirmation of your theory.

Much like Rei, Mina is also very self-critical, but not to Rei’s unreasonable extents. Mina is, because she needs to, she’s the leader, the level headed one, controlling her emotions is not a choice, it’s a necessity. Along with that I see her being way angrier at the world around her than any other of the inners, but she’s not hypocritical about it.. she realizes she’s part of the problem. People are so fucking selfish, it’s disgusting, and yet.. she knows she’s not so different.

So how does Mina deal with anger? Ironically enough, I see Mina being the one throwing weights around. Mina LOVES working out, physical activity is her n1 stress reliever. She’s not very picky either, she most often makes do with anything she has at hand, including environments and all types of different circumstances to adapt to the most reasonable and appropriate workout at the time.

Other than that, I can easily see her openly venting to those around her. If it’s something she doesn’t care about you knowing she’s angry about, then you’ll def hear about it, willing or not! That’s the more “friend” part of Mina coming out, and less of her disciplined persona as “the leader”. Different circumstances lead to different ways of coping. There’s a lot that Mina needs to filter between “we’re friends” and “I’m your leader”, and that complex inter-dynamic of her character is one of my favorite aspects of her.

And speaking of public coping method for anger management.. Mina’s kind of a dick too, depending on the day, she’ll go openly be an ass to someone on the street to destress, or encourage Rei in similar behavior. Entertainment is a kind of minor, yet significant way Mina uses to keep her emotions at bay, a form of temporary distraction, and hey.. Mina is pretty shameless after all. She doesn’t care. Also I can see other types of ‘activities’ that are def a personal fav method of coping for Mina as well *ahem*.

[osrs-stonks]

OSRS Stocks: Brine Sabre

The brine sabre is a weapon in Old-school Runescape that allows you to kill a certain slayer creature without the use of its usual slayer tool - in this case, instead of using a bag of salt to kill a rockslug, you can use the brine sabre to kill rockslugs outright and save time and money. The name, description and location of this item indicates that it's been left sitting in salty water for a long time - but instead of rusting, it's been imbibed with the properties of salt, and so you can kill slugs with it.

I'm gearing up to do a brine sabre grind. It has a 1/512 chance of dropping from an enemy called a Brine Rat, which sounds like a lot until you realise that this weapon only drops from brine rats, there's only one area in the entire game world where brine rats spawn and they're definitely not the strongest mob in the game (level 70). Because of its rarity, utility and awesome look, this weapon currently sits at a value of approx. 289,000 gold pieces on the Grand Exchange.

But what's the history of this item's value throughout its lifespan? This post is all about that, at least according to oldschool.runescape.wiki.

---

So, the brine sabre is currently coming down from a record peak of its value. Here's the chart for the past month vs the past six months:

So you can see that the brine sabre was at its peak in early-ish September, trading at a value of 310k~. Some time in July, it took a sharp dip to a value slightly north of 170k. The market has been a bit unstable; maybe there was a rash of availability, like someone grinding for brine sabre drops and mass-selling on the GE.

What I find interesting, though, is the lifetime sales of the brine sabre.

The lowest price that the brine sabre ever traded at was 50,000 gold pieces on Wednesday, 31 January 2018.

The highest it ever traded at - leading directly in from its low point - was 700,000 gold pieces on Wednesday, 21st November 2018.

The next highest peak of value was 314k~ on Saturday 9 September 2017:

And the spike in brine sabre's value this past September is the third highest price this item has ever been at, at approx. 310k~.

So why is this the case?

You might think that the brine sabre itself changed - and you'd be right. In July of 2016, the brine sabre gained its ability to kill rockslugs without the use of an extraneous salt item:

But that was in July of 2016. The value of the item reached an all-time high in September 2017, over a year after the change occured, and the price subsequently bottomed out in early 2018. It only reached its all-time peak value of 700k~ at the end of November 2018, almost an entire year after it had cratered to a value of 50,000 gold pieces.

I don't know why any of this happened. Maybe some players grinded brine sabres to the point of deflation, causing ownership to increase so dramatically that the value of the item plummeted. But maybe after the item had lost its value and the glut of brine sabres had dwindled, other players began searching for the sabre on the GE and created new demand, causing the price to surge.

But I'm doubtful of that because the price took eleven months between January and November to go from rock-bottom to all time peak.

A factor that may have played into this is an emote clue for the master clue scroll, requiring you to go deep into the wilderness with the sabre and a bunch of other expensive gear to fight a double agent in the lava dragon pen. That's way fuckin up in the wilderness, close to the very top of it, making you extremely susceptible to pkers as well as risking a violent, dragonfire-fueled death in the search of treasure.

I don't know when the clue was added, but the master clue scroll was added to the game on the 6th of July 2016. At any point past that date, the emote clue requiring the brine sabre could have been added to the game, causing players to look for one on the Grand Exchange.

And why has it peaked again now, six years after it initially broke 300k in 2017? I have no idea, but the value seems to be dropping right now.

What gets me is that the rockslug is a very low-effort and low-value slayer monster. The average value of a rockslug drop is like 112 coins, and the rockslug itself is level 29. To get a brine sabre, you either need to shell out a six-figure sum for it on the Grand Exchange or grind a particular mob that's level 70, over twice as strong as any given rockslug.

I think it's a combination of rarity, its necessity for the master clue scroll and because it looks fucking awesome.

[queerdruid]

A very good “Hello there!” to you! [taps hat]

5, 6, 15, 19, 23, 28, 58, 59, 64, 70, 76, 77 and 90?

Would have had it bother you if the numbers were in random order???

I asked maybe ten people since yesterday some questions and am tired of reading every question from top to bottom over and over again, just so I can pick the current best/most interesting ones for the person who reblogged.

hello!!

wow that's a lot of questions! thank you!! (and thank you for coming up with them omg) 

I do like that they're in order, yes - makes it a) easier and b) it's more pleasing this way, feels "right" haha

5. One disgusting meal in your eyes?

I'm kind of turning into a picky eater (oops) so there's a bunch really... but anything very artifical for sure. my wife's girlfriend made me try boxed max and cheese the other day and while that specific one was sort of edible, that's the kind of thing I'm thinking about here

6. Do you have any idols?

not really? I generally admire people who live their life very authentically, no matter what others say and just do their own thing but there aren't really specific (known) people that I could name

15. Do you believe in ghosts?

yeah kinda? 

19. If you have the chance to spectate unseen and unnoticed any moment of history, what would you be choosing?

I think the Stonewall Riots tbh

23. Best ingredients for a pizza?

If we're talking toppings then: tomatoes, olives, arugula

28. Which age of human past fascinates you the most?

TikTok would have a field day but... ancient rome lol

58. What burdens you most with your local school system? (What would you change?)

dang it's been a while since I went to school but here in Germany we have this three-tiered school system where with the "lowest" and shortest type you can only get mostly do manual labor or "unskilled" (which is a bs concept anyway) jobs and only with the "highest" and longest type can you study at a university afterwards. Oh and you can sorted when you're like 10 years old?? it sucks

59. Some political matter you're mad about?

pfft lots. does it count if I say the persistent rise of the right like... everywhere? 

64. Can you give us one reason for flat-earth theory? (fun or not)

well, we wouldn't have the expression "fall off the face of the earth" because *obviously* you can't fall if it's round (joking) 

70. What do you think human kind spends too much money on?

the military, generally speaking 

76. What's the most romantic thing you ever have done for someone?

I'm not really a romantic person oopsie but I guess  it's when I proposed to my now spouse and made an "adventure book" where I put pictures and some text of notable steps, trips, etc. in our relationship and then in the end asked if they want to go on the next adventure with me to get married 

77. Can you imagine something pretty romantic you would like your/a partner to do for you?

again, I'm not a super romantic person so I struggle with conceiving "romantic" things... but anything that shows that they know me and care for me always makes me all happy

90. If you know your go-to person currently has time, do you still text them, call them or leave a voice message?

depends, really. I'm mostly a text person but if it's urgent or too long/complicated to do via text I'll call. not a big fan of voice messages tbh

[sofipitch]

It is interesting that Lestat was committed to Louis in IWTV for 70 years I believe? And didn’t stray until Antoine (which even then was about Louis), to only then be incredibly elusive and flighty with Louis. Why do you think that is? I’m delusional enough that I’m choosing to believe their endgame is a monogamous remarriage lol

I'm guessing you are talking about their relationship after book 3? I think Lestat is just struggling with the idea of commitment because of his past like when you look at his track record

Nicki - said he hated him and had actually hated him the whole time he knew him (regardless of if that is true youch that is cruel) and then killed himself

Gabrielle - distant throughout his whole childhood and eventually leaves him when he is at his lowest

Louis and Claudia - eventually tried to kill him, Lestat's actions result in the death of Claudia which he never forgives himself for, he asks Louis to come back to him multiple times and he says no

Akasha - idk how much of this is actual love vs coercion but he did want to try and redeem her, find a way to settle things without anyone he loved dying, and Akasha gets her head cut off and Lestat feels he could have helped her but didn't and blames himself

So yeah that I think is enough to make anyone crazy. I also think one thing of important is how many of these relationships start with crazy infatuation before ending terribly. Nicki and what Lestat called their golden moment. Running through the streets with Gabrielle after he turned her. Despite their fighting Lestat says he had decades of happiness with Louis and Claudia. And Lestat VERY SLOWLY realizing Akasha is bad. It doesn't surprise me Lestat hops from relationship to relationship, he is craving the honeymoon phase, and then has moved onto the next person BEFORE things can go sour. Lestat "falls in love" with everyone immediately, I don't think he genuinely is in love with everyone equally, I think he is in love with the potential that they could love him l, as long as they never know too much, they never peel back Lestat's mask to see what is actually underneath (Lestat repeatedly refers to himself as a monster and I don't think just bc of vampirism)

I'm now gonna combine this answer with the answer to an ask about the TV show bc I think they are really similar:

I know the whole cheating thing has been driven to ground but there’s all these differing takes of Lestat’s affair so as a book reader what’re your thoughts on the matter? Is Lestat simply poly? Is he just a cheater? Is it circumstancial? And how do you think Louis and Lestat would navigate their second ‘marriage’ in that context? Does Louis take on a simple ‘I do not see it’ approach or maybe he’s just a ‘cool girl’ and doesn’t care? Vampires live forever so monogamy must seem ridiculous but if you remove reality from fiction that leaves it open to different outcomes (especially when you take into consideration how gothic romances usually play out). Sorry it’s probably a loaded question but it’s one of those things that seems up to interpretation so I’m curious as to what your thoughts are on it :)

So I personally don't think Lestat is poly. I personally have no experience with the matter but he often interacted with "other lovers" (basically anyone who isn't Louis or Nicki, Gabrielle and Claudia I'm refusing to consider his lovers but I do think they also count as his fee actually close/genuine relationships) on a very surface level basis. He meets some random person and is kissing them, but that is before they ever actually KNOW him.

I dislike Lestat's relationship with Amel because in a lot of ways it's just insane but Lestat's love for Amel once he is inside him makes a lot of sense, Lestat sees Amel as someone who has seen ALL of him (I'm assuming he has access to Lestat's thoughts and memories) and is not horrified. Amel also can't leave him which I'm sure Lestat sees as a plus 😂

Antoinette in the show being around for a really long time just never made much sense to me just bc based on the books, it doesn't match Lestat's patterns.

None of this is to excuse Lestat or say that what he does doesn't hurt others. Louis says he is hurt by Lestat's distance and affairs in both TOTBT and the TV show. I just think the cause is out of some deep rooted insecurity rather than just uncontrollable lust

As the books go on Lestat becomes Anne Rice's self insert, and I think Lestat's many lovers and everyone in love with him (especially in the PL books) is her own desire for ppl to love her to the level of worship, AR is known for her enormous ego

[fgsfds09]

this is violet

she cuts her own hair, likes holographic stuff and hasn't showered in two weeks

i currently have two reqs lined up and i'll get to them before the year ends hopefully

more stuff about the future of the account and me are under the cut but tw/cw for mental illness and suicide ideations i guess

ok, so, i don't want anyone to reply to this, talk about this or reach out to me about this at all. any attempts will get you blocked on any platform i have you on. i just want someone, ANYONE, to hear me out. i know this is cringe, but i don't care, i no longer have the will to care. i don't care if you give two shits about me when i don't show the same kindness to myself.

i've been at my lowest for months at this point that it's getting funny, since november of last year holy shit did everyhting just get worse. if it's a mental breakdown it's been breaking down for months what the fuck is this supposed to be? the other time i felt like this was in highschool but it wasn't exactly the same. i had a life goal, it wasn't to get good greades or get in a good university or finish shit on time or even become a better person, it was starving myself until i either died or reached my goal weight which ot lower and lower. and now im so fat again and i feel like her efforts were in vain, what did she do this for? i thought getting into a decent program would fix this and i actually did feel happy, but im such a miserable pathetic cunt that nothing ever is enough, NOTHING IS ENOUGH AT ALL

am i so retarded that i can do nothing by myself? i've been losing friends left and right but it's all my fault, always my fault and honestly it doesn't matter anymore because tthe end goal is to block and remove every single one of them, every single one of you, every single person that might have interacted with me and either diasappear or end it all. the firnends i got from wattpad 7 years ago and the frends they brought along th way were the rock, they got me through all these times, they showed me unlimited and unconditional love and support and what do i give back in return? NOTHING AT ALL can't give them a better version of myself, can't give them a better friend all i can be is a retarded piece of shit and leave them behind which is so so fucking sad. i will at least treat them tea and home baked goods some fucking day but god i hope that day comes soon because i cana't take it anymore. but i love them, i love them and my cat more than fucking anything and im so glad i have them as my true friends, i hope they know they're th best things that has ever happened to me.

tip: if you ghost people for long enough they give up on checking on you and that's for the better, they better not know i exist, i no longer exist

the night, the fucking night in february that i finally decided to overdose and end it all i realised that i had ran out of my pills :DD the fuck. and then i lost my courage because of course i did. but maybe that's a good thing, the silver lining in still being alive was i started browsing gore subreddits and decided that the best way for me to go was a shotgun suicide. deep throat that shit and tilt back and bliss. i hope. it's so fucking scary to think that if i miss i'll become even more of a burden to my parents AND THEY'D MONITOR EVERYTHIGN i wouldn't even have the chance to try again. but i'll cross that bridge whe n i acquire a gun, i'll tint that shit pink and bedazzle the shit out of and clear a good 70% of my head out :3333 if i ever feel ready to go before that i'll hang myself in the farthest woods from my city and bloat with all my might, get so disfigured that they won't ever identify my ugly face. until then a girl can only dream...

shit gets better for a moment but then im back at square one, what good am i to this world? other than sitting on my ass, listening to shitty music and walking around the dining table fantasising about all the things i could've achieved and eating up daddy's money, i am nothing. nothing, just nothing. all i do is take up space and be a burden to those that love me. my parents tell me that i am not a burden but i can sense it, i can feel it, the thoughts are there in their minds. i am not sure if it's the sunk cost fallacy but one of us will have to cut our losses and understand that we will get nowhere. i guess that would be me, my parents could never ask me to leave. i know that they love me, but sometimes love is not enough and they can still love me whereever i am, i don't even have to be alive for it. all they are believing right now is that i am doing better and me taking less meds is the right thing all while my mind is in agony. but it's not real, it's in my head, and i am so ashamed, so fucking ashamed. i already do my best to disappear from their lives, i give no input to famil decisions, i try not to spend money, what else can i do? let me rot in my room and call some cleaning services, idc. i no longer want a room in the house they want to buy. the sooner they start pretending i don't exist the better it will be for all of us.

less meds mean more alcohol, i can get away with more alcohol and maybe even i shot up some heroin people would care about me less. i would do that given i had the chanve and that thought is so fucking terrifying. knowing that i innately want to destroy myself, and will fucking do so, it's terrifying. i hate every single part of myself, the part that is scared and the part that is mad, there is nothing good in me other than pure misery. i don't want to be sober, i don't want to be sober, i don't want to be sober, i don't wanto be sober at any moment of the day, not anymore not anymore not anymore not anymore. i am so terrified of men that the thought of being alone with A MALE FRIEND makes me sick to my stomach. nothing would happen, nothing would happen other than exchainging some laughs and memes BUT I AM TERRIFIED. I AM SO SCARED. i am so scared. so scared of everything. nothing ever happened to me that would justify this fear but my god does me brain hate me so much that it keeps giving me irrational fears to prevent me from ever escaping this room. living with my parents, it's so hard to destroy myself. they don't want me to drink even beer and i can't even cut anymore since i wear such revealing clothes. the cuts on my thighs from february or march are still visible and im scared they will always be, why are they so brown and ugly and not faded?? wrists get a milky white colour, WHY ARE THESE SO VISIBLE? no one has cauht a glimpse yet but what could i even say? a cat doesn't scratch in that pattern.

i live in a shit country in a shit city with shit people while being the biggest of shit myself. sometimes i even wish i was hitler so that i could be someone, ANYONE.

maybe one day i'll read this and cringe. maybe one day things will get better and i'll realise the progress i've made, or maybe, more possibly, i'll reference this post in my suicide letter in APA 7th edition format if i ever write one.

holy fuck was writing all these shit cathartic. i don't know why i wrote this at all. maybe i wanted someone to acnowledge me, that my existence wasn't in vain. my i wanted to acknowledge myself. each passing day i feel like im getting more separated from my body and my real life body is a different person and i, as my cconciousness, am somebody different. i hope one day i will be able to feel the same and a real person, but those days seem too far away.

won't even tag anything, pretend this never existed.

edit: 4.51am, i just learned a 22 year old girl killed herself by throwing herself on the tracks. i'll be 22 soon. maybe that will be my tipping point too.

[saltflowers]

Me again

I don’t have anywhere to post about how things are going so I guess this is it.

I don’t know what I’m doing, and I need to grow the fuck up. I’m 30 and eating the bare minimum yet again because when the going gets tough the only thing I know how to do is lose weight. I can’t stop, and at this rate I’ll be 31 having the same discussion with my new therapist that I’ve had thousands of times.

I am the 70% of people with eating disorders that will never recover. I’m going to stay stuck in the revolving door of recover, then relapse, but really I think I will end up dying from this. I’ve started to accept it. I know I will die.

I’m so sad. I don’t want to be this way anymore, but when I start I don’t know how to stop.

I’m so sad and I’m so tired.

It feels like I just started and now I have to see this through. I have to get to the lowest weight I’ve ever been and then I can stop. I promise I’ll stop after that. I know it’s sick and I know it’s juvenile but it’s the only thing I know how to do right.

It’s the only way to protect myself from men that like to push me to the ground and scream at me while I cower in a corner and beg them to stop. It will keep me safe like it always has. This is the only way, I’m so sorry

[quaranmine]

alright, stats time. numbers! percentages! analysis!

GO ME! i finished my writing challenge last night. though i have done them before, i have never had a 30 day streak--my longest was 11 days, previously.

NANOWRIMO "GOAL": 50k words in a month. lol nope i didn't even plan to do that but that's the perspective i'm putting the post in

MY GOAL: add 30k to IBW.

fail. i added 5.2k to IBW in the end, the equivalent of finishing just one chapter. basically, I completed 17% of my goal. not something I'm happy about but i did inevitably mostly get past a thing that was giving me trouble.

MY SECOND GOAL: add 30k aggregated to any projects

total word count: 21,366. that's techinically a fail but i'm not gonna count it because i reached 70% of my target wordcount AND THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!! 70 is a passing grade afterall :] if we want to put this in perspective of nano, i basically completed 40% of nano, which is great for a first-ever run (especially since i have never completed a 50k fic so far, let alone in a month. baby steps for me, i just do not write that quickly.)

MY THIRD GOAL: write something every day

SUCCESS! i did do that and i am very proud of it. it was shockingly hard sometimes. during the challenge i was like "i am never doing this again" and now literally less than a day after im like "hm i should do this again next year!" why am i like this? who knows!

So, let's look at other stats.

Number of fics worked on: four. (IBW, grumbot fic mainly, hitchhiker's au, and tumble town gothic)

Fanfic started and completed within the month: do you see no ghosts in me at all? (13,651 words). This means that ~64% of my time was spent on this fanfic, compared to any others (if we go by word count, as i don't remember which days specifically were used on this versus the others)

Average daily wordcount: 712 words. again, to reach the 30k goal i needed roughly 1k on average per day, so this is again about 70% of that. It is worth noting that my average for my last writing challenge in the spring was 548, so I did much better on average this month despite being forced to do it in a much longer streak. that's probably because the 0 wordcount days in the last challenge dragged the average down, so writing every day helped me a lot.

Lowest daily WC: 131

Highest daily WC: 1897

i think both of those were the same fic actually (grumbot fic.) the low wordcounts mostly represented lack of time, as i would stop writing whenever it got so late that i started falling asleep midsentence. however low wordcounts on IBW mostly represent lack of inspiration, except for the day 30, where it represented research.

all in all, i think it was a successful challenge. i'm still in writing mode and was already thinking about what i could do tonight, which is great because like...i am no longer beholden to this challenge but am still wanting to keep going (i'll just likely not force myself to do anything anymore if it's like 11:30pm and i havent done anything. i will just go to bed instead.)

the main lesson here is that i can Do Things when i want to really force myself to do, which is good because i often doubt my own abilities especially in connection with my writing. it's very personal compared to other stuff i do, so i very much love and appreciate everybody's support and kind reviews because i straight up would not be here or doing any of this without you. like i would have just gone back to hide under a rock lol.

i feel like completing these challenges gives me a lot more confidence in myself and my abilities, and gives me momentum to make consistent progress on my works even when things are a little rough. sometimes in writing you just Gotta Do It even if there isnt much inspiration, because it'll unlock the way for other scenes where you DO have inspiration.

now then. if someone can tell me why i was able to fully complete inktober for two years in a row, and pull off two of these writing challenges in one year, but CAN'T stick with actual responsible adult habits--

[your-lovely-rose]

- Angst (ger. meaning ‘dread’ or ‘anxiety’) - The story features prevalent physical or emotional torment of characters. There is also usually a feeling of helplessness.

← [List] | Not all of those were made from my own inspiration!

1. “If tomorrow comes anyway, will you be there?”

2. “Kiss me like you’ll never forget me. Then walk away. Why delay the inevitable?”

3. “Kiss me quick and leave them be.”

4. “Why does everyone always leave?”

5. “When will you come back?”

6. “You’ll be back soon, right?”

7. “I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

8. “I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

9. “I’m not leaving you here.”

10. “Can’t I come with you?”

➥ “You know you can’t”

11. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

12. “Could you stay a little bit longer?”

13. “Please stay? Just this once is all I’m asking for.”

14. “Please stay.”

➥ “I can’t.”

15. “Please don’t go. I need you.” 

16. “You- you can’t leave me like this!”

17. “Just please, don’t leave me.”

18. “Don’t leave me...”

19. “I can’t lose you too…”

20. “Tell me you don’t want to leave. Say I’m enough to make you stay. I know it’s not true, but please just say it.”

21. “You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay.” 

22. “You walk out that door right now and we’re over.”

23. “You can’t run away this time.”

24. “Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?!” 

25. “Just give me one reason; one reason why I should stay.”

27. “Stay away.” 

28. “Fucking leave.” 

29. “Stay away from me!”

30. “Leave me alone.”

31. “Please, leave me alone...”

32. “Please… Just let me in.” 

33. “Just get out. I- I don’t want you here, just leave.”

34. “I can’t believe that [he/she] left me.”

35. “You left without saying goodbye.”

36. “I came to say goodbye.”

37. “You can’t be here. Not now.”

38. “You shouldn’t have come. You can’t be-”

39. “You need to leave.”

40. “You are everything I hate, don’t ever come back.”

41. “Maybe it’s best that we don’t go home.”

42. “I’m not coming home, don’t look for me.”

43. “You said you wouldn’t leave, and then you did.”

44. “Whatever you do, do not turn around.”

45. “I’m not taking you back.”

46. “You gave up on us so easily.”

47. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you giving up is easy. Giving up is the hardest thing I ever had to do.”

48. “I wish I could say it gets easier. It doesn’t.”

49. “I can’t believe you would even think to leave me like this.”

50. “I think it’s best if we stay apart.”

51. “I’m finally getting over you and you decide to come back now and fuck things up?”

52. “You’re five years too late.”

53. “You have me.”

➥ “I had you.”

54. “I think I’m done.”

55. “I don’t want to have anything to do with you from here on out.”

56. “You know I’m bad for you, yet you keep coming back. Why are you so foolish?”

57. “I can’t lose you.”

➥ “You already did.”

58. “The one day you notice I’m gone, I’m supposed to feel bad for you?”

59. “Not you again...”

60. “I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

61. “This will be the last time you lie to me.”

62. “You never loved me, did you?”

63. “You could’ve- could’ve stayed. You could’ve helped me fix things.”

64. “Now I have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Thanks, it means a lot.”

65. “There is nothing worse than seeing you get what you want.”

66. “How is it that we always end up in this predicament?”

67. “Forget how you loved me once, I mean nothing now.”

68. “Forget it. Just like you forget everything else.”

69. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

➥ “Like what?” 

➥ “Like you still love me.”

70. “I’m a fool for believing you meant what you said.”

71. “You weren’t there… why weren’t you there? I needed you! I needed you! And you weren’t there!”

72. “The one person who called me when I was at my lowest wasn’t you.” 

73. “You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. Please say you don’t mean that.” 

74. “We should probably stop talking forever.”

75. “Don’t call this number again.”

76. “Will you ever forget my number? No? Ah, because you still love me.”

77. “What happened to their happily ever after?” 

78. “Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.”

79. “All I wanted was a happy ending.”

80. “We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”

81. “I don’t expect a happy ending. I just want an ending.”

82. “This could’ve been the end and you were ready to let me go.”

83. “How did things end up like this?”

84. “This is always how it ends.”

85. “So that's it? It's over?”

86. “I’m here. I know that’s not enough, but it’s all I got.”

87. “For what it’s worth, I never gave up on you.”

88. “No matter what they made you think, you are worth saving. You are worth loving.”

89. “Will you even miss me at all?”

90. “It was always you, no matter how much I denied it.”

91. “Don’t look at me like that.”

92. “Why does this always happen to me?”

93. “How could you… How could you do this to me?”

94. “How could you do this to us?”

95. “So, what? This was all a game for you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

96. “Why is it so hard for you to say that you love me?” 

97. “I love you.”

➥ “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

98. “When was the last time you said you loved me, and meant it?”

99. “You looked right at me when you said it. I think you meant every word.”

100. “What do you see in me that you hate so much when you see it in yourself?”

101. “It was never me, was it?”

102. “You used me.”

103. “So you thought it was funny to play with my feelings.”

104. “I trusted you!”

105. “I… I fucking trusted you.”

106. “And here I thought I could trust you with my life…”

107. “I don’t understand… Why did it have to be you?”

108. “You were a fool to trust someone like me.”

109. “I need you to tell me the truth.”

110. “I can’t believe you!”

111. “Do you trust me?”

➥ “With every bit of my being, even though I know I shouldn't.”

112. “Don’t give me that fucking bullshit. Tell me the truth.”

113. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t lie to me this whole fucking time, you fucking asshole!”

114. “You were never once honest with me.”

➥ “Maybe not, but I was honest with how I felt about you.”

115. “Be honest with me — did any of this mean anything to you at all?” 

116. “What other secrets have you been keeping from me?”

➥ “I only did this to keep you safe—”

➥ “That’s bullshit if I’ve heard of any.”

117. “Remember the time when you actually gave a shit about me?”

118. “So you were thinking of them the whole time you were with me?” 

119. “Was I ever, even for one second, enough for you?”

120. “You know what? I don’t care anymore. Do whatever you want.”

121. “It was never you.”

122. “I never told you to fall in love with me.”

123. “I never asked to fall in love with you.”

124. “I never loved you. Not in that way.”

125. “I don’t want to do this with you anymore.”

126. “Are you crying because of them again?”

127. “I hate that you’re crying because of me.”

128. “It’s harder when you can’t make yourself cry. When you don’t get to feel the release.”

129. “If you don’t know my options, don’t judge my choices.”

130. “I wasn’t enough for you?”

➥ “No, you were too much.”

131. “What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?”

132. “I’m just so tired.” 

133. “I’m just so tired, you know?”

134. “Aren’t you tired of this, too?”

135. “Are you finally tired of me?”

136. “I’m just tired of being tired.”

137. “I’m too tired to be angry at you.”

138. “I’m tired of going around in circles with you.”

139. “I tried, okay? I tried my fucking damndest, and it still wasn’t enough for you. I’m not enough for you.”

140. “I’m tired of giving my heart to you, only to have it returned, more shattered than before.” 

141. “I gave you my all yet you couldn’t even give half of you to me.” 

142. “I gave you so many chances. I can’t give you any more of them if this is how you’re going to continue to be like.” 

143. “Give me a chance.”

144. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to see me.”

145. “Did you ever see me? Or was I just a background character?”

146. “Could you see me like that, just for a moment? Pretend I mean something to you.”

147. “I pushed you away because you deserve better.”

148. “How’s it feel to be fucked over so badly?”

149. “I’d rather deny my feelings than have to explain them.”

150. “I hope you’re happy.”

151. “Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

152. “I hope you’re happy with them.” 

153. “You did all this for their attention?”

154. “Why can’t we just be happy?”

155. “Why can’t you just let me be happy?” 

156. “I should’ve died. That would’ve made you happy.”

157. “You should have ruined me when you had the chance.”

158. “I think you’re going to ruin me. Am I right?”

159. “You broke me so fucking bad.”

160. “I’ve only ever known how to ruin things.”

161. “You’ve ruined everything.”

162. “It didn’t have to be like this, but now you’ve ruined everything.”

163. “This isn’t going to be fixed. You’ve ruined this for good now.”

164. “You ran everything into the ground.”

165. “I keep fucking up the good things in my life. I couldn’t… I couldn’t do that to you, too.”

166. “My life was ruined because of one mistake. You were that mistake.”

167. “Nothing can justify this, you’ve ruined him.”

168. “Please ruin yourself for me and I’ll watch in adoration as I fall apart as well.”

169. “Who told you I needed fixing and what made you believe them?”

170. “Congratulations! You’ve completely broken my heart. Want the shattered and irreparable pieces as your prized possession?”

171. “I never meant to hurt you.”

172. “I hope they hurt you the way you hurt me.”

173. “Looking at you hurts.”

174. “You’re hurting me.”

175. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

176. “It hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much? I just want it to stop.”

177. “You’re allowed to fall apart a little.”.

178. “How much pain do you have to go through before giving up is okay?”

179. “How could you think this wouldn’t hurt me?”

180. “All we ever do is hurt each other.”

181. “I wish i'd never met you.”

182. “I wish we had never met.”

➥ “I know."

183. “I wish we never happened.”

184. “I wish you were dead.”

185. “I- I don’t believe you! There- there’s no way they’re gone…”

➥ “Denial isn’t going to bring them back, [Name].”

186. “What do you mean dead!?”

187. “Oh, so now I’m a burden?”

189. “I hope I see you in a bodybag sometime.”

190. “When you die, I’ll be the first to dance on your grave.”

191. “Maybe in another life, yeah?”

192. “Why am I grieving for someone who isn’t even dead?”

193. “He’s dead because of you.”

194. “After the funeral, let’s surrender.”

195. “I don’t know, it feels like I’m losing you and it’s so fucking scary, because you’re the one I care most about.”

196. “I could’ve died and you couldn’t have cared less.”

197. “You made me think I actually mattered.”

198. “Because I never mattered to you, did I?”

199. “Don’t pretend you missed me.”

200. “Stop pretending that you care.”

201. “What makes you think I ever cared about you?”

202. “Did you ever actually care about me?”

203. “I could give you my whole heart and you still wouldn’t care.” 

204. “What more do you want from me?!” 

205. “I gave it my all. I really did, and yet none of it was enough to satisfy you.”

206. “I’m sorry.”

➥ “You’re not sorry. You’re only sorry, because you were caught.” 

207. “You should’ve left me, you could never deserve the person I’ve become.”

208. “How am I supposed to go on without you?”

209. “I know you did the best you could. I just wish you hadn’t stopped.” 

210. “It hurts when I realize I’ll never mean that much to someone.”

211. “You’ve never been loved, I can tell.”

212. “It would’ve been nice to get to know you better, but I’m afraid I don’t care.”

213. “I hope you got what you wanted.”

214. “I just think it’d be best if we never met.”

215. “I wish you nothing but the worst.” 

216. “I hope that was worth it.”

217. “You’re my biggest regret. I hope you know that.” 

218. “I regret everything.”

219. “Did you ever truly love me?” 

220. “I deserve better than this; than you.”

221. “You’re so cruel.”

222. “I can’t help but think you’re a terrible person.”

223. “I’m… Disgusted. I’m disgusted by you.”

224. “You weaponised my kindness against me, and now you want to grovel for forgiveness?”

225. “You know what? You can go shove that apology up your ass because I don’t want to hear any of it.”

226. “Look, I don’t think I can talk to you right now without getting angry at you, so can we… Can we do this later? Please.” 

227. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for this.”

228. “You’ve given me all the reasons to hate you.”

➥ “Well, do you hate me?”

➥ “I don’t. And that’s the worst part of it all.”

229. “I hate you.” 

230. “Please don’t look at me with such hatred.”

231. “I love you. I’m sorry.” 

232. “You don’t have to love me.”

233. “There was never an us.”

234. “I thought we were family!”

235. “I fucked up.”

236. “About the baby... Its yours.”

237. “Thanks for nothing.”

238. “You’re a disappointment.”

239. “You’re a monster.”

240. “I don’t love you anymore.”

241. “Oh my god, you love her. And she doesn’t love you back. How perfect.”

242. “You’re right: I’m a liar. But you can believe me, just this one time.”

243. “You seemed to like me better when I lied.”

244. “Let’s just end this before we end up loathing each other more than we do.”

245. “You know I could never want anyone else the way I wanted you — the way I still want you.”

246. “You played me like a fiddle yet you still expect me to, what, forgive you? Get fucking real.” 

247. “We vowed on that fucking altar that we’d do this together for life, so why would you— why would you do this? How could you?” 

248. “If I have to stay with you any longer, then I’m going to end up hating you, and I don’t want to hate you.”

249. “Remember how you were the one who told me I was worth it? Now you’re the one making me feel less than worth it.”

250. “It feels like I’m drowning whenever I’m with you.”

251. “You’re not the same person I married, don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

252. “The more we go on like this, the more it feels like I’m in love with a stranger.”

253. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you.”

254. “Please don’t be a stranger.” 

255. “I fell in love with the version of you that you wanted me to fall in love with, not the real you.”

256. “You’re not in love with me. You’re in love with the idealised version of me.” 

257. “I wish you’d just let me love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

258. “You could never love me the way I loved you, because you’re incapable of loving, you fucking monster.” 

259. “You don’t own me, I don’t belong to you.”

260. “Hate me all you want. I know I’m right.”

261. “I wish you wouldn’t beg for forgiveness, it has the opposite effect of what you want.”

262. “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.”

263. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone than when I was with you.” 

264. “You’ve wrung me fucking dry. I have nothing left to give.” 

265. “You gave me every single reason to stay away from you yet I still fell, and now look where that’s gotten me?” 

266. “You were my only friend.”

267. “You’re my best friend. I wish I were yours.”

268. “Don’t act as if we’re friends. I know how much you want to slit my throat.”

269. “I can’t get over you no matter how hard I try and it’s killing me.” 

270. “You’re doing the exact thing you swore you’d never do.” 

271. “You meant the world to me.”

➥ “That’s past tense. Why is it past tense?” 

272. “So with whom did I actually fall in love with this whole time?”

➥ “…I’m sorry, please just let me—”

➥ “No. No, you’re not fucking sorry. I loved you so fucking much and yet this whole thing was a lie? Are you serious?” 

273. “You keep taking me for granted.”  

274. “You’d do the same if you were me.”

➥ “I wouldn’t, because I’m not you. Because I know right from wrong.” 

275. “Tell me I’m wrong. Say it. Please.”

276. “Because you’re never the one in the wrong, are you? It’s always someone else.”

277. “Maybe I’m the problem.”

278. “What is wrong with you? No, seriously, what the fuck?”

279. “I don’t… I don’t understand. Is it something I did?”

280. “Why can’t you just admit you fucked up for once? For once in your life, why can’t you just own up to your mistakes?”

281. “This is all your fault.”

282. “You’re not them.”

283. “You’ve got issues, and I’m done dealing with them for you.”

284. “You’re not blameless here, you know?” 

285. “You’re a lost cause.”

286. “We shouldn’t. You’re married and I’m pregnant.”

287. “It sucks. Because I want to hate you, but I can’t.”

288. “Don’t hate me for this. You would’ve done the same.”

289. “I hate that I want you.” 

290. “You left me hanging on by a thin thread.”

291. “You promised me a forever, so don’t you dare go breaking that.” 

292. “You promised…”

293. “Forever, you say? Isn’t that what you promised me last time? Yet that became one of your many broken promises.”

294. “Sometimes, forever just doesn’t last that long.”

295. “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re just not ready for this?”

296. “I swear I will change.”

➥ “That’s what you said last time.”

297. “I used to think I can’t live without you. Now that’s not the case anymore.” 

298. “Don’t you think we’ve dragged this out for too long?”

299. “What a heap of wasted potential.”

300. “Why won’t you ever listen to me?!”

301. “It has always been you, and now I wish that isn’t the case.”

302. “When did our love turn into an obligation to stay together?” 

303. “You think we’ll ever recover from this?”

➥ “Honestly? No.”

304. “You were never mine to begin with.”

305. “You don’t fucking own me.”

306. “I gave it my all. You know that.”

➥ “…But did you really?”

307. “You were never there for me when I needed you the most”

308. “Stop. Don’t do this, [Your Name]. You’re better than that”

309. “It was you!?”

310. “I had no choice…”

311. “They’re going to kill me!”

312. “I need your help, please.”

313. “I-I can’t do this.”

314. “You’re so worthless.”

315. “I wish I could just die.”

316. “'Til death do us part' ” seems like such a cruel joke now.”

317. “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

318. “What’s the point of going on?”

319. “I don’t think I can handle going through this again.”

320. “It’s not fair!”

321. “Life sucks!”

322. “Everything sucks!”

323. “Do you think it will always be like this?”

324. “I can’t do this anymore.”

325. “Why does it always have to be so hard?”

326. “I don’t know if I can take much more of this.”

327. “This is too much for me to handle.”

328. “Why does he keep doing this to me?”

329. “You know it’s not like that.”

330. “I hope I’m not put in the same part of hell as you.”

331. “When did you think you could hurt me again? Today? Tomorrow?”

332. “You only ever brought me pain and I’m sick of it.”

333. “You made me miserable and I still loved you.”

334. “If only you knew what you’d brought upon yourself.”

335. “Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

336. “Your mind must be a horrible place.”

337. “I want to wipe that grin of your face with my sword, but my mother taught me to play nicely.”

338. “Ah, well if you want them back alive, I suggest you lay down your own life.”

339. “Stop talking or tomorrow won’t come.”

340. “Seeing your face has unconventionally made me want to die. I wasn’t quite prepared for this feeling.”

341. “You could have loved me, I’m quite good at seducing, but you’re actually vile.”

342. “Let’s pretend you didn’t cheat on me and be good people for a few minutes.”

343. “To say I ‘tolerate you’ is a vast overstatement.”

344. “You broke my heart and came back for more, you bastard.”

345. “This isn’t fifth grade, this is a courtroom, you whore.”

346. “Time was always a measurement of this relationship and we finally ran out.”

347. “You live with so much guilt, I hope it drives you mad one of these days.”

348. “Your wrongdoings are becoming your pastimes.”

349. “I wish you had of just done it for the thrill of it, but now you’re in deep shit.”

350. “Next time, I won’t be here to salvage your wreckage. This is the last time.”

351. “Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about your life without me.”

352. “This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, this is real life and I can go on without you.”

353. “You’re almost as far-gone as I am.”

354. “Do you remember our last feud? I wouldn’t want someone to lose their life again, would you?”

355. “Let’s not get angry. Let’s calmly and sensibly take this outside so I can ruin your face.”

356. “I hate remembering the mess I used to be because part of me misses it.

357. “I wish, just once, you would love me like this — no strings attached.”

358. “They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but my heart just became numb.”

359. “I wanted to believe you thought about me.”

360. “I miss being incapable of love.”

361. “Even when you’re next to me, it feels like you’re miles away.”

362. “I’m sick of missing you when you’re right here.”

363. “I thought I could like it like this.”

364. “No one can break your heart if you keep it broken anyway.”

365. “I wish you would think of me when I wasn’t right in front of you.”

366. “You can still see the stars in the sky after they’ve burned out. It must be lonely, having no one miss you.”

367. “Hope has only ever failed me.”

368. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry; please don’t leave me, just please don’t.”

➥ “I won’t, I promise.”

369. “I don’t care how long it takes or where I have to go, but I will find you; I promise.”

370. “You can’t escape the monster you’ve always been.”

371. “You are truly pathetic if you thought I’d ever rely on you.”

372. “Oh bravo! No one cared.”

373. “You’re nothing, you were nothing even to your [father/mother].”

374. “I’ll never forgive.”

375. “I never liked you to begin with.”

376. “You’re on a path of selfdestruction and I’m not going to stop it.”

377. “No one ever cared for you, what made you think I’d be any different?”

378. “Having you around is just like having a nightmare I can’t wait to wake from.”

379. “What even is the point of you?”

380. “Do you honestly not see how dysfunctional this family is?”

381. “Suicide doesn’t end the pain; it just passes it on to someone else.” 

382. “I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire.”

383. “Why did I even make it home?” 

384. “Your mind is the darkest place I’ve ever been to.”

385. “No wonder you’re not afraid of the dark. Nothing outside your head could be as scary as what’s inside it.” 

386. “I didn’t choose to be an introvert. I did choose to be asocial. I regret nothing.”

387. “I’m not divorcing you. I just need to be away from you for a while.” 

388. “It’s been a while since I felt myself turning to ash on the inside. Thanks for walking in and reminding me.”

389. “They don’t actually want me there. I’m tolerated — not welcome. Why don’t you see that?”

390. “I didn’t want to leave because I finally felt like you needed me there. It didn’t last.” 

391. “I was finally starting to live before you showed up again. And now I see it.”

392. “I never ask for help because I’m not sure I know how.”

393. “It’s alright to feel broken every once and a while. And it’s alright to take time to heal.”

394. “I feel like I’m falling apart.”

395. “What is it about me that isn’t good enough?”

396. “Whats the point in trying if only one of us is willing to?”

397. “You almost died and you’re making jokes?”

398. “I don’t miss you. I miss us.”

399. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

400. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

401. “For once in your life, do what you want! Be selfish!”

402. “Being strong doesn’t mean never asking for help or admitting you’re in pain.”

403. “You are not your past.”

404. “This is the third time you’ve broken a promise to me, I’m starting to think you are doing it on purpose.”

405. “You would risk letting all those people die for one person? Why?”

➥ “Because it’s not just one person… it’s you.”

406. “How are you not a ghost that war is throwing at me to taunt me?”

407. “Whatever you do, do not make a sound.”

408. “I always said I’d die for you.”

➥ “I didn’t think you meant literally.”

409. “I mourned you too. For years.”

410. “Where the hell have you been?”

411. “I thought you were dead!”

➥ “And I thought you were on our side.”

412. “They told me you had died. I mourned you.”

413. “I’m going to kill you!”

414. “You were dead!”

➥ “No, you were dead.”

415. “Still deciding if this will turn out to be one of the good dreams or one of the nightmares.”

416. “They never found your body.”

➥ “Well, here it is.”

417. “We cant keep this up forever.”

418. “Why did you spare me?”

419. “I stopped giving a fuck a long time ago.”

420. “Are you upset with me?”

421. “I thought you had died!”

➥ “And now you want to finish the job?”

422. “That's it? You are just going to walk away without saying a word?!”

➥ “I have to. Because if I went to say goodbye to you, I know I wouldn’t have the courage to leave again.”

← [List]

[pluckyredhead]

Let’s talk about Roy’s abandonment issues!

So this is a thing I come back to over and over again when I’m writing Roy, and for me it’s a super crucial aspect of his character, and one of his biggest stumbling blocks in relationships.

Roy is a Good Little Extrovert, right? He’s charming and flirty and very very good at faking being okay, so it’s easy to miss the ways in which he falls into his own unhealthy patterns. (Especially because he tends to fall into them with people who have a vested interest in believing him when he lies and says he’s okay.)

You can trace Roy’s abandonment issues pretty clearly and consistently through his canon from “Snowbirds Don’t Fly” on, but there are three moments in particular that for me, really inform how he reacts to feeling abandoned, and why: the detox flashback in the Arsenal miniseries, his breakup with Donna in Titans ‘99, and his breakup with Jason in RH/A.

So! Arsenal #1!

This is the only time Roy ever says the inside thoughts out loud, and naturally it’s when he’s at his lowest possible point. (We do not speak of Cry for Justice or Rise of Arsenal in this space.) And yes, he’s a teenager, and yes, he’s detoxing, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true, and that doesn’t mean the feelings will ever fully go away. There’s a part of Roy that will always believe that he is fundamentally unlovable and deserves to be left. That no one will ever stay, because no one ever has. (It probably doesn’t help that not only did both of his fathers die, they did so by charging in to meet death head-first - Ollie specifically after Roy asked him not to.)

“No one’s ever gonna stay when I need them. I’m just so scared if I try again I’ll...” Oh baby boy. Sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.

Even in the present day, his feelings of being abandoned by Ollie - not just during “Snowbirds,” but by Ollie’s death - are palpable, and yet they’re still only speakable under his breath, half-joking:

So we’ve got a boy who is charismatic and needy, who loves love and sex and intimacy, and who is fundamentally convinced that no one will ever stay with him and incapable of expressing that out loud. I wonder if that will have a deleterious effect on his romantic relationships?

...Let’s talk about Donna.

I think we can pretty safely say that Roy and Donna were each other’s first loves - or at least, neither of them had canon love interests prior to their relationship in the 60s and 70s. They were extremely chaste and fairly casual in the 60s; by the late 70s, you can definitely read them as sexually involved, even if it’s played coy for the benefit of the Comics Code. Somewhere between the end of Teen Titans Volume 1 and The New Teen Titans they broke up, presumably amicably based on their later interactions, and Donna almost immediately married the horrifying Terry Long while Roy went about making babies with supervillains.

By the time Titans ‘99 rolls around, Donna has gotten divorced, dated and dumped Kyle Rayner, lost her ex and her son to a car crash, and mostly processed her grieving. She was also just coming off of a plotline where a villain erased her from reality and she was reconstituted from Wally’s memories for Reasons. Which is why Roy making a dumb sex joke sends her into a tailspin:

They start dating again, but Donna is upfront fairly early on about her reasons for doing so:

In other words, because Roy is a Bad Boy (you know, one tattoo and an earring, two whole love interests over the course of 58 years of canon, an absolute rapscallion), Donna is basically using him to feel less like a Good Girl. Which, hey, at least she’s honest about it! But maybe this isn’t a good reason to date someone??? Maybe???

And Roy takes a brief, inscrutable pause (is that “...” because he’s hurt? angry? processing? WE JUST DON’T KNOW), says “Understood,” and CONTINUES THE RELATIONSHIP ON THOSE TERMS. A good and healthy choice that absolutely will not backfire, ever!

Some time later, the Fab Five are stranded on an island in a storm, and tensions are running high (partially, but not entirely, because a villain is playing with their minds and bringing out their resentments and insecurities). Once again, Donna is brutally honest:

She doesn’t want Lian getting too attached to her, because obviously she and Roy are going to break up - anything else is just laughable. Roy’s amazing, she loves him, the chemistry is great, but of course they don’t have a future. That’s not what Roy’s for.

And Roy just...walks away. Roy has a quick temper and will cheerfully fight about anything - except this. He can’t bring himself to pretend it’s okay or that he’s not angry or hurt, but he is also incapable of arguing that he deserves to be considered as a long-term possibility, so he just...leaves.

They never talk about it. The subsequent issue has all of the Titans hashing out their arguments, but this one? They don’t touch it. They pretend it didn’t happen.

Another ten issues go by (with abundant Cheshire-related drama). Donna is nearly erased from existence again, and in the aftermath, she decides that the Roy experiment is over:

That second to last panel just kills me. It’s like the ellipsis in the scene with Kyle, the walking away in the jungle, the muttered confession Dinah isn’t supposed to hear. All the hurt and the anger and the sadness go into one tiny, inscrutable beat, and the casual, devil-may-care mask is back on. Roy isn’t sad!!! He loves dating around!!! LOOK AT HOW AGGRESSIVELY NOT-SAD HE IS!!!

EVERYTHING IS FINE AND ROY HARPER HAS NEVER HAD A FEELING IN HIS LIFE!!! WHO WANTS CAKE?

I don’t mean for this to be a dunking-on-Donna party, because I love her, and again: she has been explicit with Roy, over and over and over again, about her goal here. The only thing that really pisses me off is her continued reference to Lian getting hurt, as if only Lian is capable of it - as if Roy genuinely doesn’t possess feelings to hurt.

And yet that’s not entirely on Donna, because Roy performs “I don’t have feelings to hurt” so consistently and so well. I think it’s partially that the Titans tend to fall back into their teenage roles when they’re around each other, but Roy was a carefree horndog when he first joined the team, and dangit, that’s the role he’s going to continue to play. (And Donna is far from the only member of the Fab Five to occasionally treat Roy like he has no feelings and is incapable of love, only boners.)

So yeah, it’s very easy to be angry with Donna here, but remember: Donna was honest with Roy throughout, but Roy wasn’t honest with Donna or himself, not for a minute. And why? It’s right up there in Arsenal #1. He’s scared to try. He’s scared to let himself believe that someone might stay. Easier to pretend to everyone, himself included, that he doesn’t care than to leave himself vulnerable like that.

In conclusion: this relationship is a MESS and I cannot look away, it is delicious to me.

After this, Roy actually does get other love interests, and it’s worth noting that with the exception of Cheshire - who he walked away from because she was, you know, a supervillain - he has never once been the one to end things. Donna breaks up with him. Grace and Helena are strictly casual. Kendra...well, that’s a mutual split, but sparked by her saying another man’s name in bed. Kori breaks up with him. And every single time, not a word of protest from Roy. Never a single argument in his defense.

And then there’s Jason. Or more specifically, there’s the way Jason walks away at the end of Red Hood/Arsenal. You know the page I’m talking about:

Now, this is a different continuity with some very different characterization for Roy, and Scott Lobdell is a fucking hack, but holy shit is this the Roy I used to know. Being dumped, again. Just taking it, again. Turning away to keep from showing how he feels, but this time he can’t bring himself to put on the big happy “Hey, it’s okay, I deserve this!” smile. Not yet. (But does he come charging back in to fight Batman the second Jason needs him? Of course he does.)

Anyway. I feel like we’re all very familiar with Jason’s fears and traumas and intimacy issues, but I made this post in part as a reminder that just because Roy is charismatic and extroverted and very, very good at pretending doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own insecurities, and doesn’t mean that he doesn’t repeatedly play out unhealthy scripts. So if you’re wondering why I’m obsessed with writing Roy willfully insisting that thing are casual when they’re obviously not, or being incapable of believing that someone (Jason) is in love with him when they patently are...this is why. I’d tell him to go to therapy, but we all know how that turned out.

(Seriously, though, Roy. Go to therapy.)

[superwho-am-i-kidding]

PROMPT LIST - INEFFABLE HUSBANDS

Are you having a good day? Do you just want me to absolutely ruin it? Great! Send me any combination of numbers 1-75, and I'll tear your heart out!

An angel and a demon are going to learn what my version of hell is. I love these boys, but sometimes you've just got to kick them while they're down. (Will also write angst for Illogical Husbands, if requested.)

Full list of prompts below the cut. Pick some that match, or just send two random numbers!

1. “How much pain do you have to go through before giving up is okay?”

2. “You’re allowed to fall apart a little.”

3. “I hate remembering the mess I used to be because part of me misses it.”

4. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you giving up is easy. Giving up is the hardest thing I ever had to do.”

5. “I’m here. I know that’s not enough, but it’s all I got.”

6. “What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?”

7. “I don’t expect a happy ending. I just want an ending.”

8. “It sucks. Because I want to hate you, but I can’t.”

9. “I wish, just once, you would love me like this — no strings attached.”

10. “It hurts when I realize I’ll never mean that much to someone.”

11. “They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but my heart just became numb.”

12. “I wanted to believe you thought about me.”

13. “It’s harder when you can’t make yourself cry. When you don’t get to feel the release.”

14. “You’re my best friend. I wish I were yours.”

15. “You made me think I actually mattered.”

16. “I miss being incapable of love.”

17. “I’d rather deny my feelings than have to explain them.”

18. “I pushed you away because you deserve better.”

19. “If you don’t know my options, don’t judge my choices.”

20. “Even when you’re next to me, it feels like you’re miles away.”

21. “I’m sick of missing you when you’re right here.”

22. “I thought I could like it like this.”

23. “You seemed to like me better when I lied.”

24. “Could you stay a little bit longer?”

25. “Tell me you don’t want to leave. Say I’m enough to make you stay. I know it’s not true, but please just say it.”

26. “It was always you, no matter how much I denied it.”

27. “I wasn’t enough for you?” “No, you were too much.”

28. “No one can break your heart if you keep it broken anyway.”

29. “I tried.” “I know, and that was your mistake.”

30. “You’re right: I’m a liar. But you can believe me, just this one time.”

31. “You don’t have to love me.”

32. “If tomorrow comes anyway, will you be there?”

33. “You can’t be here. Not now.”

34. “Sometimes, forever just doesn’t last that long.”

35. “Don’t pretend you missed me.”

36. “Why am I grieving for someone who isn’t even dead?”

37. “How could you stand there and pretend this isn’t your fault?”

38. “Did you ever see me? Or was I just a background character?”

39. “Tell me I’m wrong. Say it. Please.”

40. “Don’t give me that look. Did you really expect things to be different this time?”

41. “I wish you would think of me when I wasn’t right in front of you.”

42. “You can still see the stars in the sky after they’ve burned out. It must be lonely, having no one miss you.”

43. “Could you see me like that, just for a moment? Pretend I mean something to you.”

44. “Hope has only ever failed me.”

45. “The world was a little brighter yesterday, wasn’t it? Everything was brighter without me there.”

46. “I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

47. “It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not. The pain is still real.”

48. “Oh my god, you love her. And she doesn’t love you back. How perfect.”

49. “I wish I could say it gets easier. It doesn’t.”

50. “Do you honestly not see how dysfunctional this family is?”

51. “Kiss me like you’ll never forget me. Then walk away. Why delay the inevitable?”

52. “Suicide doesn’t end the pain; it just passes it on to someone else.”

53. “Pretending to be happy is exhausting.”

54. “Who are you when no one’s watching?”

55. “You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay.”

56. “I was alone with my baby. My own thoughts terrified me. And you never bothered to call.”

57. “The one person who called me when I was at my lowest wasn’t you.”

58. “I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire.”

59. “Why did I even make it home?”

60. “The one day you notice I’m gone, I’m supposed to feel bad for you?”

61. “I know you did the best you could. I just wish you hadn’t stopped.”

62. “Your mind is the darkest place I’ve ever been to.”

63. “No wonder you’re not afraid of the dark. Nothing outside your head could be as scary as what’s inside it.”

64. “I didn’t choose to be an introvert. I did choose to be asocial. I regret nothing.”

65. “I’m not divorcing you. I just need to be away from you for a while.”

66. “It’s been a while since I felt myself turning to ash on the inside. Thanks for walking in and reminding me.”

67. “They don’t actually want me there. I’m tolerated — not welcome. Why don’t you see that?”

68. “Why would I trust anyone else with my baby? I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t feel seen or wanted. And I still don’t.”

69. “How do they manage to still be in their kids’ lives, but you don’t even bother?”

70. “Promise me, when I die, you’ll have me cremated and spread my ashes around a tree. I don’t need an expensive hole in the ground or a rock with my name on it.”

71. “I was drowning right in front of you, and you were too busy to notice.”

72. “I didn’t want to leave because I finally felt like you needed me there. It didn’t last.”

73. “What do you see in me that you hate so much when you see it in yourself?”

74. “I was finally starting to live before you showed up again. And now I see it.”

75. “You looked right at me when you said it. I think you meant every word.”

[navegandoaciegas]

California Bound.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, yandere, homeless!bucky, stalking, home intrusion, obsession, loneliness, sad!bucky, disturbing thoughts, dubcon? This is a dark fic.

Words: 4k

Summary: You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell. Bucky is tired of being alone and invisible and he knows you are too. He knows you can mend each other's’ hearts. 

A/N: set after CA:TWS. I’m not a native speaker so forgive me for any mistakes. Please let me know what you think and like and reblog if you liked it :) feedback is always appreciated!

In the unstable state of his scattered mind he can vividly recall a woman in a red dress. 

Some memories are long gone, some are fragmented, and although the lines of her face have been blurred by the passing of time and decades of electrocution, her plump red lips are permanently burned in the back of his brain.

When he closes his eyes, sometimes, he can still see her smile. 

Only she’s not smiling at him.

She’s smiling at Steve, his brother, his friend, his mission. 

Not even seventy years of brainwashing and torture could get rid of the sadness that filled him when she walked past and ignored him as if he wasn’t there, as if nothing else in that room existed except for Steve.

In his memory she doesn’t see him, and nobody has since. 

Perhaps it’s in that moment that he became no one, in that moment he was condemned to an existence of pain, loneliness and invisibility.

He’s a ghost that haunts the dirty streets of Philadelphia, crouched behind the dumpsters of dark alleys, begging the ones who sneer at him for spare change in train stations, lurking in the shadows to pickpocket the rich passerbys of the city.

  The hormone suppressants HYDRA forced on him are wearing off.

He can feel himself slipping, his most primal instincts violently surging back after 70 years of being repressed. His brain goes haywire when he catches sight of a pair of legs clad in a short skirt, the blood draining from his brain and travelling straight to his cock, and he wills himself to restrain his urges.

Modern women are so pretty, and they wear so little clothes. They don’t see him, of course, but he sees them. 

He sees those tight little dresses, those high heels, those long lashes and bright lips.

In another life he could have been like one of the rich boys he often spots outside of clubs, well dressed and well groomed, and maybe those pretty girls would have fawned over him too.

But not in this life.

In this life he’s been alone for 70 years, and his loneliness consumes him so intensely that some nights, when the cold is unbearable and the streets are empty, he wishes he hadn’t been born at all.

In this life he doesn’t shower and shave for weeks on end, and his hair is so greasy and matted that even if he wasn’t in hiding he’d have to wear a baseball cap anyways. When he looks at himself in the mirror he barely recognizes the handsome soldier in a blue uniform he saw at the Smithsonian. The man who stares back at him in the mirrors of soiled public restrooms has deep frown lines on his forehead, dark circles under dull eyes and a patch of white hair on his beard. Only the startling blue of his eyes has stood the test of time.

Those pretty girls wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

 He’s tired of the loneliness that plagues him. He just wishes to be seen.

He wants someone to look at him, really look at him, in anything other that pity or disgust. He wants someone who could hold him at night and take care of his battered soul.

He wants a companion to spend his time with, someone he could talk to; when was the last time he uttered a single word? When was the last time someone touched him tenderly?

You’d think after all he’s been through that being alone would be a walk in the park in comparison, but the emptiness that eats him alive is the most unbearable torture he’s ever been subjected to. It took HYDRA 20 years to break him, it only took the loneliness a couple of months.

  He just wants someone.

Someone who sees him.

And you do. You see him.

 He’s hunched over in a recess in the wall of an alley, violently shaking. The ground beneath him is frozen, the strong winds are like a slap in the face and the heavy-duty winter jacket he was able to steal isn’t doing much to protect him from the harsh weather. Maybe he won’t survive tonight, he almost dares to hope.

He’s still crying when he spots a pair of crisp white sneakers coming his way, and he looks up. He’s seen you around a couple of times, you’re one of the pretty girls who short circuit his brain.

You’re wearing a bright yellow winter jacket and black jeans. You look young, but he can’t tell how young. People nowadays age different than they used to back then. You’re probably way younger than him, although he has no idea exactly how old he is; he was 27 when he went to war, how much has he aged? How young is too young for a man with no age?

The light of the lamps behind you diffuses a soft halo around your body. You shine on your own light, brighter than the sun; you’re an angel so beautiful, so perfect that he doesn’t know if you’re a figment of his imagination.

You crouch down and hand him a bunch of blankets and a warm cup of something, maybe tea? When he grabs it his fingers brush against yours and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. He expects you to grimace in disgust at his touch, but you don’t. You smile.

You smile at him.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel the cold anymore, he only feels the warm tingling in his stomach. 

He smiles back, or at least he tries. He hasn’t smiled since World War II, as Nazis didn’t give him a lot of reasons to, to be honest. 

And just like you appeared, you’re gone in a heartbeat.

But he can’t simply let you go like that, so he resolves to summon back the Asset’s stealth and gets up to follow you.

That night when he closes his eyes the smile he sees belongs to you.

-

   They say even your worst day only lasts 24 hours; too bad your worst day has become your worst year so far.

They also say when you reach rock bottom the only way to go is up. They lied about that too.

Somehow today you’ve been scraping the bottom of the pit you’re in and have dug yourself even deeper than the lowest you could get.

You want to say your day can’t get any worse than this, but you know there’s always room for worsening.

The feeble March sun shines through the clouds and you’re dreading the flight of stairs that awaits you since your landlord categorically refuses to have the lift fixed. By the time you get to your door you’re exhausted and can’t wait to shower the day away and lounge on your couch.

 You open up the door to your apartment and get inside in a rush, only to stop dead in your tracks when you notice something is off about your home. There’s an eerie stillness about the open space, and maybe you’re going crazy but it seems like some of your things are not where you’d left them.

Apparently you just unlocked a lowest level to rock bottom.

It takes you a couple of seconds to register it, but when you do the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your brain screams danger at you.

There’s a smell inside that is not yours. It’s the strong, manly smell of sweat, and it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant if it weren't for the fact that you live alone and don’t usually have men over.

 You never think it’s going to happen to you until it does.

You took self defense in college, you carry pepper spray with you, you always thought if you were in danger you’d be able to defend yourself, or at least bolt away.

They never tell you that fear is paralyzing. They don’t tell that the anticipation of pain roots you on the spot, that your legs feel like they’re made of lead and all you can do is wait for the impact to come. They don’t tell you that the dread that chills the blood in your veins can break the most primal of mechanisms humans have, and the fight or flight response you were counting on to save you abandons you too

When it happens, you don’t even hear it coming; there’s a prickle at the base of your neck and, before you descend into the darkness, two arms envelope you, and you feel the ghost of a kiss on your shoulder.

-

  You try to peel your eyes open when a hand delicately caresses your cheek and lingers on your lips. Your eyelids are heavy, your head is pounding like you’re having the worst hangover in you life and your whole body is aching. You want to speak, you want to shake that hand away, but you are unmoving. 

It reminds you of the medicine induced hallucination you used to have, which were an inconvenient side effect of the same prescription drugs that were supposed to help you sleep. It feels like a sleep paralysis, minus the demon sitting on your stomach. 

-

 You’re slipping in and out of consciousness when you hear it. There’s a voice speaking.

You suppose whoever it belongs to is talking to you. You strain your ears and will yourself to concentrate real hard, despite your brain pulsing in your skull and threatening to burst out.

The voice definitely belongs to a man, and whoever he is, he sounds very soft spoken and polite. Too bad he broke into your house and drugged you.

“So pretty, so perfect for me.”

“We won’t ever be lonely anymore, I promise you that.”

“...cleaned up real good for you...”

“...can’t wait for you to wake up.”

It’s all you can make out in your drowsy state. He peppers your forehead and the crown of your head with soft kisses. There’s two strong arms holding you. You fall back asleep.

-

  The sun shines brightly through the curtains of your bedroom and you want to flip the universe off for lining up the morning rays directly onto your face, and yourself for forgetting to draw the blinds.

You almost cuss yourself out for being yet again late for work when the events of the previous evening rush back to you. You wake with a jolt and you feel terror enveloping you when you see him. 

Fear grips your throat and you want to scream, you want to thrash about and punch him, and yet all you can do is look at him with wide eyes.

You feel your chest heaving but it’s almost like it doesn’t belong to you, it’s not happening to you, it can’t; you breathe but the air won’t reach your lungs. 

The man detects your distress and sits next to you. He carefully reaches for your hand and places on his chest, over his heart.

You are immobile.

You hate yourself for it. You wish you could do something about this but your stupid brain refuses to cooperate.

“Calm down baby, I’m not here to hurt you.” says the guy who gave you morphine. “Concentrate on my breathing, ‘kay? Inhale, hold your breath- good, now exhale, and again.”

He guides you through a breathing exercise that suggests you it may not be the first time he’s had to calm himself or others from an almost panic attack. The steady beat of his heart calms you down.

“Don’t cry, please.” he pleads with you.

You’re back at it again with the inappropriate thoughts for someone who’s been kidnapped and might get killed in the next few minutes, but you can’t not think how handsome your captor is.

He’s got dark hair gathered up in an elastic at the nape of his neck. His jawline is sharp and his cheekbones high. His eyes are the bluest you’ve ever seen, his lips look soft and pink and his nose is small and cute for a man so chiselled and intimidating.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” he tells you, and smiles almost shyly at you.

There’s a look on his face that should reassure you, because it means that you won’t die today, but it can only mean you’re doomed to something maybe worse than death. 

His expression is tender, like you’re the most precious thing in the world. He seems so affectionate, so loving, that for a moment you wish this was real, you wish your former partners would have looked at you so devotedly.

He takes your hand in his again and traces soothing pattern with his thumb. 

Finally you seem to snap back to reality.

“Who are you?” You manage to squeak out. Your throat is on fire, and you’re grateful for the water bottle he hands over to you.

He frowns and seems to think about it until he manages to mumble a “My name is Bucky.”

He hesitates over his name like it doesn’t really belong to him.

You’re puzzled as to why you’re so calm. You’ve never been a feisty one, that’s true; you spent your life conforming to rules, you always complied to orders because you like to be praised and you hate to disappoint. As a child you feared punishments, being grounded, the look of dissatisfaction on your parents’ faces more than anything else in the world.

But you never imagined you’d be striking a conversation with the intruder in your house like it was an everyday occurrence. 

It only takes a look to understand that you can’t outrun the guy, nor overpower him. He’s built like a bulldozer and his biceps are bigger than you. He said he wouldn’t hurt you, and as absurd as it sounds you believe him, but it doesn’t mean you’d come out unscathered if you tried to fight him.

Maybe you could outsmart him? Comply until he trusts you and then take off?

“I’ve been watching you.”  Oh shit . “You saved my life.”

You can’t stop the remark from escaping your lips. “A thank you would have sufficed, you know, no need to kidnap me and all.” 

You weren’t feisty, sure, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a snarky bitch.

The guy chuckles, and it seems like his own amusement surprises you both alike.

“Two months ago, back in January. I was freezing to death. You came and gave me blankets and tea. It warmed me enough to survive the night. I knew back then you were perfect.”

Oh, God . The one time you decided to be a good citizen and gave the blankets you hogged in your cubicle at work to the homeless guy that was always crouched in the back alley of your office building, then one you’d see when you sneaked out the back to smoke on company time.

You almost don’t recognize him. 

“You’re just like me in a way. I saw you so sad all this time, you hate your job, you’re always alone. I saw you cry because you feel so lonely. I know that it feels like. I’ve been alone for so long.” He whispers the last part softly, and your heart clenches because it’s true, you’re so damn lonely, but you can recognize the loneliness in his eyes too. He cradles your face in his hands. “But I promise you won’t be alone anymore. You got me now.”

“I don’t know- I-I don’t even know you. Please just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please don’t hurt me.” You start to plead with him and your words get swallowed by the sobs that shake you. Your heartbeat picks up again. 

You know fear now, the real one, but it pales in comparison of the one you feel when the implication of his words starts to sink in.

He just smiles at you. 

“What do you want?” you manage to whisper.

“You. We’re going to be happy I promise. I read the notes on your phone where you wrote you wanted to travel, remember that?” You nod weakly, recalling the depressive entry about how stuck your boring life is and the bucket list of all the places you’d want to visit.

“We’re going to travel, I’ll take you wherever you want. Just don’t leave me please, be with me.”

You almost ask with what money since you’re homeless my guy, but then a thought strikes you.

You won’t miss your boring life the moment it will slip away from you; you won’t miss being stuck alone in a city you despise doing a job you hate. You won’t miss the homesickness. You won’t miss berating yourself for accepting a job immediately post grad in a city on the other side of America, just because you were scared of being left behind, of being that one person who ends up with no job after college and has to move back to their parents house.

Maybe, had you stayed in your hometown, or accepted that other position in Austin, maybe this shit wouldn’t have happened to you. You’ll never know.

He pulls you into a hug and you’re so startled your crying subsizes. 

He shushes you and coos you while rocking you in his arms. “It’s okay baby, I promise you’re going to like it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, I got it all sorted out for you.”

You’re shocked.

He pushes you down on the bed and as your mind elaborates the worst case scenario possible and as you’re on the verge of another panic attack, he simply envelops you in his arms and puts his head on your chest. 

You’re stunned again.

Almost on instinct you wrap your own smaller arms around his shoulders and he sighs contentedly. You’re so touch starved and desperate for affection that even hugging your stalkers feels kinda nice.

You haven’t touched anyone and no one has touched you in such fondness in almost a year. Hook-ups don’t count. 

You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell.

 Lost in thought you only notice he’s about to kiss you when it’s too late.

At first he hesitantly pecks your lips, and then he’s trying to pry your mouth open with his tongue. You don’t know what possesses you to do it but you part your lips.

He’s uncertain on how to move around, like he doesn’t know how to kiss or he’s forgetten how, he has absolutely no idea where to put his hands, and it’s honestly kind of awkward.

You imagine this is what it’s like to kiss a middle schooler.

He pulls away and blushes. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”

You’re stunned yet again.

He’s not apologizing for stalking you, breaking in and drugging you, but because he’s a bad kisser?

He slants his mouth against yours again, this time more forcefully than before. And after almost choking you when he pushes his tongue so deep it would have reached your tonsils hadn’t you had them removed, he seems to get the gist of it, or maybe the muscle memory kicks back in, because even if you won’t admit it to yourself, it feels nice.

You feel sick and twisted but it’s good to have someone desire you, touch you so tenderly, kiss you so passionately. The guys you use to entertain yourself in your solitude never kiss you while they fuck you into oblivion. You forgot how comforting the weight of a warm body on yours is.

You don’t push him away until you feel your t-shirt rip.

His hands explore your body ignoring your pleads to stop.

He’s nowhere and everywhere all at once. One hand squeezes your ass and the other kneads your breasts while he leaves open mouthed, hungry kisses down your throat, until he reaches the soft skin between your neck and clavicles and starts sucking in like a man possessed. You automatically jerk forward and buckle your hips until they touch his and he lets out a groan that travels straight to your already dripping core. 

You hate yourself for it, but you’ve never been this aroused.

You hate yourself for giving in so effortlessly, for being so damn weak, so damn lonely.

It’s mortifying how easy you’re making this for him. 

Your mind tries to will your body to push him from you, but instead of shoving him away your hands grab his shoulder and pull him closer.

You hate yourself because when he dips his hand in your soaked panties as he suckles on your nipple, your body doesn’t even try to protect you. 

You’re at his mercy as he pushes his long fingers through your folds and smears your arousal around, before dipping them inside.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” 

Cocky bastard.

He moans in your mouth as he grinds his hips on your leg and you feel the extent of his manhood. 

“So pretty, so perfect, so good for me.”

It shouldn’t feel this good, but again you’ve been a slut for praise since you came out the womb. You moan and whine in pleasure and he’s clearly very proud of himself for being the one who elicits these sounds from you. His thumb finds your bud and massages it, sending jolts of unadulterated pleasure down your spine.

You’re trembling under his touch. Your legs are shaking, toes curling, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning louder what you ever have. You can feel the familiar tightness in your core that precedes an orgasm, but you need more.

“Please Bucky, please. Faster.” you whine, ashamed of yourself for pleading like that. 

You’re so lost in your own pleasure you don’t notice the look of hunger that crosses Bucky’s face at the mention of his name. He never thought he’d be able to give you so much, he never knew his hand could bring anything other than pain and destruction, but his name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my fingers for me, I know you can.”

And you do. You cum so hard your vision goes black for a second as you lose yourself to the pleasure that travels from your core to the rest of your body.

You’re floating, so dazed that you barely notice he’s undressed you and taken off his pants. When you feel something prod at your entrance, you look down in horror only to find him already lined up with you.

He’s got the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and it’s so big, so thick you’re scared he’s going to rip you apart. He doesn’t give you time to react before he’s slamming inside of you.

The scream that rips out of you is animalistic, and he stills.

“God you’re so tight, clamping down on me.” He grunts in you ear as he sets a slow pace.

The pain soon subsides and gives place to more pleasure than you’ve ever felt in your life. He picks up the pace when you stretch around his girth painlessly, and rolls his hips around.

“So good for me.”

“Mine, only mine.”

“My good girl.”

“Taking me so well.”

“Gonna fill you up so good.”

“Fuck, you feel incredible.”

Your pussy clamps down on his cock with each praise he grunts in your ear. You’re so overstimulated and he’s so vocal that you feel like you’re about to burst when you cum again and again for what feels like an eternity, before his movements become sloppier and messier.

You cum once more when he swells inside of you, and you feel the tell-tale sensation of fullness when he fills you up with his cum.

He collapses on you, panting. 

You’re both satisfied and spent.

He kisses you once more, on your lips, and it’s so sweet and tender that you almost cry because you know deep down you couldn’t take one more day of solitude.

His voice is deep and hoarse when he speaks again.

“How ‘bout we start with California?”

[danielxricciardo]

Angst prompt list

1. “How much pain do you have to go through before giving up is okay?”

2. “You’re allowed to fall apart a little.”

3. “I hate remembering the mess I used to be because part of me misses it.”

4. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you giving up is easy. Giving up is the hardest thing I ever had to do.”

5. “I’m here. I know that’s not enough, but it’s all I got.”

6. “What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?”

7. “I don’t expect a happy ending. I just want an ending.”

8. “It sucks. Because I want to hate you, but I can’t.”

9. “I wish, just once, you would love me like this — no strings attached.”

10. “It hurts when I realize I’ll never mean that much to someone.”

11. “They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but my heart just became numb.”

12. “I wanted to believe you thought about me.”

13. “It’s harder when you can’t make yourself cry. When you don’t get to feel the release.”

14. “You’re my best friend. I wish I were yours.”

15. “You made me think I actually mattered.”

16. “I miss being incapable of love.”

17. “I’d rather deny my feelings than have to explain them.”

18. “I pushed you away because you deserve better.”

19. “If you don’t know my options, don’t judge my choices.”

20. “Even when you’re next to me, it feels like you’re miles away.”

21. “I’m sick of missing you when you’re right here.”

22. “I thought I could like it like this.”

23. “You seemed to like me better when I lied.”

24. “Could you stay a little bit longer?”

25. “Tell me you don’t want to leave. Say I’m enough to make you stay. I know it’s not true, but please just say it.”

26. “It was always you, no matter how much I denied it.”

27. “I wasn’t enough for you?” “No, you were too much.”

28. “No one can break your heart if you keep it broken anyway.”

29. “I tried.” “I know, and that was your mistake.”

30. “You’re right: I’m a liar. But you can believe me, just this one time.”

31. “You don’t have to love me.”

32. “If tomorrow comes anyway, will you be there?”

33. “You can’t be here. Not now.”

34. “Sometimes, forever just doesn’t last that long.”

35. “Don’t pretend you missed me.”

36. “Why am I grieving for someone who isn’t even dead?”

37. “How could you stand there and pretend this isn’t your fault?”

38. “Did you ever see me? Or was I just a background character?”

39. “Tell me I’m wrong. Say it. Please.”

40. “Don’t give me that look. Did you really expect things to be different this time?”

41. “I wish you would think of me when I wasn’t right in front of you.”

42. “You can still see the stars in the sky after they’ve burned out. It must be lonely, having no one miss you.”

43. “Could you see me like that, just for a moment? Pretend I mean something to you.”

44. “Hope has only ever failed me.”

45. “The world was a little brighter yesterday, wasn’t it? Everything was brighter without me there.”

46. “I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

47. “It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not. The pain is still real.”

48. “Oh my god, you love her. And she doesn’t love you back. How perfect.”

49. “I wish I could say it gets easier. It doesn’t.”

50. “Do you honestly not see how dysfunctional this family is?”

51. “Kiss me like you’ll never forget me. Then walk away. Why delay the inevitable?”

52. “Suicide doesn’t end the pain; it just passes it on to someone else.”

53. “Pretending to be happy is exhausting.”

54. “Who are you when no one’s watching?”

55. “You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay.”

56. “I was alone with my baby. My own thoughts terrified me. And you never bothered to call.”

57. “The one person who called me when I was at my lowest wasn’t you.”

58. “I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire.”

59. “Why did I even make it home?”

60. “The one day you notice I’m gone, I’m supposed to feel bad for you?”

61. “I know you did the best you could. I just wish you hadn’t stopped.”

62. “Your mind is the darkest place I’ve ever been to.”

63. “No wonder you’re not afraid of the dark. Nothing outside your head could be as scary as what’s inside it.”

64. “I didn’t choose to be an introvert. I did choose to be asocial. I regret nothing.”

65. “I’m not divorcing you. I just need to be away from you for a while.”

66. “It’s been a while since I felt myself turning to ash on the inside. Thanks for walking in and reminding me.”

67. “They don’t actually want me there. I’m tolerated — not welcome. Why don’t you see that?”

68. “Why would I trust anyone else with my baby? I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t feel seen or wanted. And I still don’t.”

69. “How do they manage to still be in their kids’ lives, but you don’t even bother?”

70. “Promise me, when I die, you’ll have me cremated and spread my ashes around a tree. I don’t need an expensive hole in the ground or a rock with my name on it.”

71. “I was drowning right in front of you, and you were too busy to notice.”

72. “I didn’t want to leave because I finally felt like you needed me there. It didn’t last.”

73. “What do you see in me that you hate so much when you see it in yourself?”

74. “I was finally starting to live before you showed up again. And now I see it.”

75. “You looked right at me when you said it. I think you meant every word.”

[kingreywrites]

hopefully u don’t mind that I ask the same.. but the new Dream proposals?? I’d like to hear ur thoughts!! :))

Your opinion on _____?

I absolutely don't mind, there's like 70% of my brain devoted to the proposals always, and that's why this post is so long ghdhdhd apologies for that but i love them ur honour 😭💖

1st proposal: (BEA)

my beloved <3 ghdjdkd i know it's controversial but i just. feel like it's such well done conflict, that it could have been written so wrong for so many reasons but was SO well done and i actually love thinking about it. Honestly, this moment is kinda new dream's lowest point in the series, the one moment when their deep love for each other isn't enough to make them be on the same page, and the one moment when the "fairy tale" kinda stops and they really start building their relationship together and I!! LOVE THAT!! I also love how it all came to this, how their own issues made this possible (Rapunzel who has been raised to cater to someone else's happiness at her own personal cost all her life just cannot bring herself to admit anything about how she feels because Eugene is happy and she wants to keep it that way; Eugene who's given everything he could have wanted and more, and has his own abandonment issues to work through, just trying to secure this because he wants them both to be happy and he's scared that it won't last, and, in doing that, missing the discomfort Rapunzel is herself hiding.... that is very good conflict okay)

AND i also very very much love how it was resolved within the episode. We always say new dream is a very healthy relationship, and it's true but like it's the most obvious exactly when things are going wrong between them! They can communicate when they're happy and nothing is happening, but that proposal shows that even when there is a serious conflict between them, even when they actually did not manage to communicate well and Eugene fucked up and put Rapunzel in a tough spot, THEY ARE STILL ABLE TO TALK IT OUT, APOLOGIZE AND ACTIVELY WORK ON THEMSELVES TO MAKE SURE THIS WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN. Sorry for the caps but holy shit. Eugene's apology at the end is such an amazing scene because he acknowledges what he did wrong, he apologises, he also stops rapunzel from apologising because he knows it's not her fault, and then he admits that he still needs to work on himself to understand what went wrong, that not everything is magically fixed because he said sorry, and he tells her exactly what course of action he's gonna take and i just ghdjdk THE FACT THAT THIS PROPOSAL CAN BE USED AS ANTI NEW DREAM BY SOME PEOPLE WHEN IT EXACTLY SHOWS HOW AND WHY THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS ABLE TO WORK EVEN AT ITS LOWEST POINT DRIVES ME CRAZY

(i think about the first proposal a normal amount I swear ghdjdkd anyway onto the others)

Second proposal: (1st one in BTCW)

literally the funniest one because like

Eugene: i was one of the best thieves in the world, master of lying and deceiving people

Rapunzel: did you just say... marry me?

Eugene:

Eugene: Larryme. i said Larryme, the name of... my fake old dog

1/10, worst save i have ever seen, he gets a pity point because i like him and the name Larryme is hilarious i wanna meet this dog

ghdhdkd joking aside it's always funny to see this one brought up as him making an ill-timed proposal again when like, the man didn't even get to try it fgdjdjdk the way it was going, i can definitely see him put off the proposal because lance and hookfoot's advice got to him, but i at least know for sure he wouldn't have done it like that in the caravan 😔

3rd proposal: (end of BTCW)

WHY IS THIS ONE FORGOTTEN ABOUT SO MUCH IT'S A HUGE TURNING POINT IN THAT WHOLE ARC and like!! Eugene is right in that they are very much not in the right time or place to get married, and though he sorta misses Rapunzel's eagerness it's actually a good thing he makes sure they're not rushing this because she's still worried of losing him (he's literally keeping his promise of being patient with her but also he makes sure she's patient with herself too!!) BUT. But, from that point, from literally the first episode of the second season and onward, it's established that Rapunzel wants to get married with Eugene, they both do, and they are on the same page about it. It's not a nebulous distant future in Rapunzel's mind anymore, it's not an anxiety-fueled desire to protect their love for Eugene, they just. do want to get married because they love each other and want to live that together. I cannot stress enough how !!!!!!!!! i am about that asfgsjfj so like a very good proposal, highlighting that they can take their time together which is very good very wholesome

3rd and a half proposal: the Tromus One (rapunzeltopia)

Does this one count? ghdgdh my guy tromus really said the only way to keep her into the perfect dream version of her world where she is completely happy is to make sure she's with eugene 💖 we thank him for that and for the parents au and for the demon au too fgjdhdhf i gotta say, I like how it also highlights how much Eugene has changed and how their relationship is much more solid now. Like, genuinely, after all they went through, Eugene wouldn't propose like that to her anymore, and he also showed that he's ready to say no to make sure that she has the space to discover herself and be certain of her choice. Also I like this proposal because the joy on Eugene's face when she says yes is very cute okay I KNOW IT'S A DEMON BUT IT'S ALSO MY BOY

4th proposal: (Cassandra's Revenge)

ASGSGDHDJDHDHDJJHLSDGSDSG I LITERALLY WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THE GIRL WHO HAS EVERYTHING REPRISE. NEVER EVER I GENUINELY FEELS GIDDY LISTENING TO IT EVEN NOW AND THEN WHEN SHE PROPOSED AND HE WAS LIKE "FOR ME?" AND IT WAS THE SOFTEST THING IN THE WORLD I DIED

i'm also so happy rapunzel got to try to propose a second time because hell yes she would and like i'm glad it wasn't ever questionned and that eugene got to be over the moon because she oves him just as much as he does and !!!!!!! FLUFFY HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS WHERE BOTH PEOPLE WOULD DO ANYTHING TO MAKE THE OTHER ONE HAPPY ARE ALL I WANT IN LIFE ACTUALLY

5th and final one: THE proposal :')

It's literally perfect what can I even say ghdhdh like. the dialogue? Eugene reminding her of his promise, making sure she knows it's a choice, us seeing how far they've come together since the beginning and how it's literally the next natural step for them instead of a tacked on "happy ending" thing?? The sheer emotion and happiness in their voices and their expressions, the intimacy, the gorgeous bi flag sky behind them, the parallel to I see the light, THE EVERYTHING?? this proposal is the best proposal to ever proposal, no one is doing it like them

[fordanoia]

Fic Writer Interview

I was tagged way way back by @endae​ (my beloved). Thank you for the tag!!!

How many works do you have on AO3?

19 (haha), I really gotta work on moving all my paranoid ford one shots over into a one shot series though. I have about 70 fic posts on here.

What’s your total word count on AO3

180,212. Half of which all comes from Gotham Falls which isn’t a surprise.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Mainly just Gravity Falls. 

I wouldn’t really count the other stuff I’ve done because it’s only been 1 fic, and that was it really. R.ise of the Guardians, O.utlast:Whistleblower, S.anders Sides. N.aruto and D.eath Note if you wanna go way back.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Even Stone Crumbles 2. I Think I Saw You 3. Gotham Falls 4. A Blinded Eye for a Blinded Eye 5. Please Come

I’m pretty happy ITISY is up there since that’s kind of my ‘best series work’, Blinded Eye too, that one’s been a lot of fun to write because it’s a ficlet series.

Kind of really thrown that the Even Stone Crumbles one shot is the hightest one though, dang people really just wanted to see Ford cry huh, I can accomodate that.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Uh... rarely. 

Basically, it’s something where creators responding to me got me nervous so I didn’t generally do it as a creator myself until I found out some consider it polite to respond and since then I’ve been making an effort of doing it going forward. 

I’m not online that often nowadays though so... I haven’t done it much.

Wanna emphasize tho how much I THRIVE off of comments and that I appreciate them even if I didn’t reply to them. Genuinely I’ve made fics a higher priority bc a comment revitalized my passion for the fic.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Most of my paranoid one shots wind up with angsty endings where it’s implied that Ford just has to keep Living in it. 

I had one where he woke up and thought Bill had Killed A Person while he was possessing him, and it leaves off an unsettling note.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever written?

Rarely. I wouldn’t consider myself a crossover person, which is funny because I have one exception for that and it IS Gotham Falls (which is the stan twins from gf inside of gotham from b.atman the animated series).

For the sake of the question though imma include rp for wildest thing I’ve ever done which was rp as Chris McLean from total drama island and hosted a game of ‘rabbit doubt’ (which is an angsty rp game where 1 person is a killer and is killing the other characters until they’re the only one left or the group discovers who it is). Players included bill, some undertale characters, and etc.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No. Worst I’ve ever gotten was slightly rude stuff.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

‘Rarely’ really is the word of the day here. Some g.ravity falls and some vamp oc content.  

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. Closest I’ve ever done has been rp. Remembered I co-wrote a fic with a friend when I was in middle school. Dual self-insert where the a.katsuki (from n.aruto) kidnapped us from our world and we wound up becoming ninjas.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

hands down, B.illford. Manipulative and toxic is a ship dynamic I enjoy a lot.

Honorable second place B.lackice (J.ack Frost/P.itch Black) which i’ve been coming back to read fics for every long once in a while since 2013. Even if it’s only in spurts it is still technically the longest I’ve cared for a ship. (Surprisingly, I actually like this ship when Pitch genuinely reforms, kozmotis style)

(I don’t care about the vast majority of ships so not a hard competition here.)

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Gotham F- lol no, I’m determined to not die until I finish that bad boy.

Dear Stan(ford). Unfortunately, an easy answer. I’ve never gone back to finish it really, and it’s the lowest on the totem poles out of all my wips.

There’s nothing wrong with it, and it’s got good legs, but I think the slice-of-life sort of pace makes this harder for me to write especially with it being an episodic set up which gives me nothing much to jump to between each letter. 

It’s a bit of a ‘as the mood strikes me’ but I always have something higher priority and I’m more invested in so the mood never strikes.

What are your writing strengths?

I’d like to think that once I’ve got a character down that I can do their dialogue really well and character interactions. Characterization in general.

Also tense scenes.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Fluff, casual conversations, new characters, fighting.

Whenever I try anything entirely light hearted I generally fall flat and it all comes out so stocky/woody.

New characters, if I don’t Know A Character Through and Have A True Feel for them, then I just flounder all over the place. I don’t know how to write if I don’t know what they’d be thinking and feeling past about how ANY person would think/feel.

Fighting - I mean hell, common weakness, same issue as fluff/slice-of-life I just feel like I’m pushing words. Half the time I can get in a groove with it, but other times it’s - arm hit wall, punch go to face but miss.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Yeah, more than fine. If the 2nd language becomes plot important then I think you should either include translation or mark the language as multilingual, but yeah nah.

I’m someone that has to know what it’s saying even if it’s not Plot Important so I prefer the translations regardless (if google translate won’t get the point across for me).

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

N.aruto. 

See above for mention of that self insert a.katsuki kidnapping fic.

We posted it on quizilla, and it’s a shame it’s gone because it was actually fun to read from what I remember.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

.... That’s a hard decision. 

My baby is Gotham Falls, always has been. I’ve reached a difficult point on it though because I’m at a point where I’m bringing in mmm 6 new characters (B.atman villains) which I’m trying to bring in over the next 10 chapters PLUS it’s going to be with fight/action scenes probably every other chapter if not nearly every chapter - both of which are really hard for me to write. I adore it probably the most and it is easily the most I’ve worked on any fic, but it’s also my biggest challenge. (And it holds some of my oldest writing which as always can hurt to read when you’re better now, but NO way am i updating 60k of old work).

Then I love doing p.aranoid ford fics, they’re my favorite go to. Writing A Prime P.aranoid Ford fic that just flows out is one of my favorite things.

Alternatively - ITISY because it’s definitely my top 5 story concepts and one of my best executions of something wasn’t a one shot. 

I’m tagging @pinesbrosfalls, @fexalted, @novantinuum and whoever else may like to do this. Sorry if I double tagged and no pressure to do it of course.