#love getting screamed at because I don’t do things the exact way someone else wants me to

[its-monster-mash]

Thinking about Bo Sinclair again(never stopped) and I am in PAIN.

Like, how much WEIGHT do you think came off of Bo’s shoulders when his parents died? I mean, we know that the weight of his mother’s abuse is still crushing him given the funeral and how he talks about her.

But I mean in the practical sense—how freeing must it be for Bo to suddenly not be FORCED to do things on other people’s time/demands?

I’m just thinking about his high chair (and the fact that the janky-ass chair in his basement is ALSO old—makes me wonder how old he was when they stopped binding him to things) and like—

I feel as though Bo probably does NOT sit and eat at the kitchen table. Bo probably eats standing, or sitting on the floor, or at a desk in his shop, or in bed(the man is a menace about crumbs I just know it). I just feel like it’s a small freedom that probably at least subconsciously means a lot to him, to be able to do things the way that feels most comfortable to him.

Also I’m imagining a Sinclair Brothers Holiday Dinner and they’re all just laying on the livingroom floor eating because “Fuck a table”. Lester and Vincent can probably eat just fine at a table, but I feel like to have a nice family meal they sit on the floor with Bo and it’s just ritual.

[worldlxvlys]

OMG PART 2 of “one of the girls” PLS OMG maybe a more angsty to fluff between them

deeper (one of the girls pt 2)

fwb! chris x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex

a/n: you definitely asked for angst and fluff and i definitely only gave you angst

sorry 😬

but i swear on everything the next part will be fluffy, i just needed to lay the groundwork 🙏🏾

previous part

“look, it’s fine chris. you’re just shitty at aftercare.” she spoke from her spot across from me on her bed.

we somehow had managed to go from talking about how our days went to sex.

“what are you talking about?” i asked, confused.

“i mean, in what world is you fucking me and dipping to go fuck someone else considered taking care of me?” she pointed out.

my face dropped at her words, “i- i don’t do that every time though, it’s happened a few times, but-“ she cut me off with a scoff, “that’s the thing, you do it every time, without fail. you just- you finish, you make sure i finish, and you leave” she shrugged it off, but it obviously hurt her to say.

“i mean, what kind of a friend treats someone that way? it’s like, hey ok! i finished using you for what i needed, gotta go do the exact same thing to the next girl! you don’t see how fucked that is? you don’t get how that would completely fuck with my head ?” she asked.

“i mean at first, it wasn’t like that. i didn’t care, i thought maybe you’d stop at some point. but after months of you doing this shit, i can’t act like it doesn’t affect me anymore”

i blinked at her, only now realizing what i was doing to her.

“and it’s not like i caught feelings and am in love with you or something, you can be with other people, i don’t care. but- i mean, right after me? the second your dick gets soft you go somewhere else to get hard again? like, am i that bad, or…?”

no, no, no. there’s no way this is happening right now.

there’s no way i’ve managed to do this.

what the fuck was i thinking? what was wrong with me?

“hey, listen. this has nothing to do with you not being good enough, ok? i’m so sorry, i never meant to hurt you at all, i need you to know that. you deserve better than how i’ve treated you, i know. i guess i was just scared-”

“scared? scared of me?” she asked in a low voice, her face clearly showing how hurt she was.

my eyes widened at that, how the hell am i managing to make this worse?

“what?” i asked, desperately trying to think of how to calm her down.

“is this about the whole liking pain while we’re having sex thing? because if you can’t handle that-” i brought my hand up to her face to cup her cheek, making her stop talking and stare at me with wide eyes.

“it’s not that, ok? i told you i’d never judge you for that and i meant it. there’s nothing wrong with liking that stuff, i personally find it makes you even more attractive”

“so, if not that, then what? what are you running from?” she whispered to me.

my feelings for you.

the second i realized that i was beginning to care about her in a different way, i started seeing other people.

i tried desperately to distract myself from her, praying that being with someone else would help.

the first time, it worked. until the next time we had sex, and i remembered everything that i loved about her.

i was overwhelmed by her, everything about her drove me crazy.

her body, her soft skin, her scent, the way she tasted, the way she moaned and screamed under me.

my senses were filled with her.

i assumed it was just physical attraction, which is why i tried looking for someone who could replace that.

but who was i kidding? no one could replace her.

and even if they could, i realized that it was deeper than the sex as i was staring at her now.

it was that beautiful smile that i was missing now while i stared at the sad look that i put on her face.

it was that look she had on her face when she wanted to laugh, but was trying desperately to hold it in as i made faces at her from across the room.

it was the amount of passion and dedication she put into the things she cared at about.

it was the deep connection that we shared when i stared into her eyes, my fear of intimacy somehow leaving my body when it was with her.

it was her.

it was always her.

and me? i was royally fucked.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

not too much on chris he’s about to eat in the next part (literally)

i may or may not have already written the next part to this 🌚

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[celabi]

tbh, I feel like I’ve been drifting away from the original scummy scara I made when I first made the au, so I would like to let everyone know that he is a BIG freak. the type of guy you avoid because he’s just… so creepy and weird. like, restraining order, banned in fifty states type of weird.

he will steal a pen you’ve been nibbling on in class, and do all sorts of things to it that you don’t wanna know. like shoving it down his throat or something idk.

he goes through the trash and takes the gun you spat out, and chews it as if he were a man on death row. and at this point he might as well be.

he ‘makes’ you home made lunch. (which is just store brought food he put into a lunch box). awe, so thoughtful, right? NO, he passed out after cumming so much to replace the dressing on your salad.

spits in your drink, so it’s almost like you’re kissing in a way, because his saliva is in your mouth yada yada. he’s so delusional, gosh.

this man jerks off to anything. pictures of you in a bikini. pictures of your panties that he snuck a photo of from under your skirt. hell, he has even fapped it to a post he found on one of your family members facebook where you look like the most ordinary person ever. anything.

he acts like an angel around you, but the moment you turn your back, he has this dark, violent glint in his eyes at anyone who isn’t you.

he STANK. like discord moderator who manages thirty different servers. he plays video games 24/7 and eats only fast food + he lives in his mothers basement so minus points.

his mind is SO dirty too. like you could be complaining about this one girl who has been getting on your nerves recently, and all he can think about is bending you over the table and running his hands all over your body. he thinks of you when he shouldn’t, and in ways he shouldn’t, even before you knew his name.

yeah he’s so sweet, and kisses the ground you walk on. but he also would love nothing more then to knock you up and keep you as his cute little spouse who he can come home and make love to every day.

god and he’s a brat too, don’t get me started. like, throwing tantrums when you decide to sit with someone else at lunch. starting fights with people who so much as look in your general direction (ones that he loses cause he is so small and scrawny). screaming profanities at the professors who separate your seating plans in lectures, and so on.

if you’ve been keeping up with my posts, you’ll know that this man has a literal sex doll replica of you he sleeps with at night. it’s so detailed to the point where there is freckles in the exact same spot they are on your skin. (even some moles and beauty marks that you didn’t even know you had, and god knows how he does).

has a shrine of you in his closet. strands of your hair he has collected. lipgloss and chapstick he has stolen from your bag whilst you weren’t looking. accessories like rings and bracelets. nail polish, all the works. and in the middle of this shrine, in all its glory, is a pair of your underwear that he took while you were in the changing rooms. he prays to it. the holy grail.

he has been dating you in his head the moment he saw you, like, gets a little annoyed when you don’t remember your five month anniversary, but the thing is, you didn’t even know you’re dating at all.

I love him. don’t get me wrong, but he is not the man you want to get involved with, like AT ALL.

go for someone like scummy alhaitham, who has (some) self respect 👍

[allycat004]

Green with Envy (Completed Version) || Klaus Mikaelson

❧ Warnings: Slight dirty talk, hair pulling, brief choking, p in v sex, smut 18+

❧ Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Fem reader

❧ Summary: You are at a dinner party with a date and Klaus happens to be in attendance. The two of you have been hooking up and spending time together because Klaus wanted to keep things casual. After seeing you with someone else he gets jealous and begins to rethink his choice.

❧ Author's Note: Hi lovelies, the wait is finally over and the full version of this fic is here! I decided that instead of leaving you guys in the dark and having it be a fade to black I wrote the smut scene. It felt right for this fic. So, I hope you enjoy!

© Allycat004 2024, please don't steal, copy, repost, modify, or translate my work.

After finally having enough of this bickering match with Klaus in front of my date, I excuse myself. I am regretting it as I’m walking away because I know he won’t play nice while I’m gone, but I needed a moment to myself to breathe. I walked into an empty room and sat in silence with my head in my hands. 

“ Who the fuck does he think he is? “ I groan.

“ Who do I think I am? Hmm… I think I am the only person who can actually please you, make you scream. “ I heard Klaus say and I snapped my head up to see him standing in front of the closed door. I didn’t even hear him open the door, let alone come in. 

“ Get out, leave me alone..  I don’t want to deal with you right now. “ I said sternly as I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest.

" Awe come on Love, I was just having some fun.. don't be like that. " He said as he took one step closer, but I put my hand up signaling that I would prefer it if he kept his distance from me.

" Fun, Are you serious?! .. That was embarrassing, you were making my date uncomfortable! " I slightly yelled while throwing my hands up in the air. I noticed that when I mentioned my date, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

" He's not the one for you, let alone the one you should be here with Y/N. " Klaus said and I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

" Oh please, don't start. You were the one who wanted to keep what we have going on as a bit of fun. I get that you're envious, but green is not a good color on you. " I said as I walked past him to get to the door, but before I could even grab the handle he pulled me back by my hair and caused me to yelp.

" You better watch who you're talking to sweetheart. Klaus said as he pulled my hair more, caused my head to go back and he wrapped his other hand around my throat then slightly squeezed. " I will.. fuck you in this room right now to remind you who you really belong to. Make you moan as loud as possible for your date downstairs to hear so he gets the memo. " 

At the mention of that, my breath hitched and I couldn’t help but squeeze my thighs together. I could feel the smirk on his lips in the crook of my neck, however I was determined to not let him win. “ Dinner is being served in 20 minutes which you know considering this is your party, there’s not enough time. “ I said 

“ Is that a challenge, love? “ He asked as he started to lightly kiss my neck and run his fingers up my thighs gently, but it was enough to leave a path of goosebumps on my skin. “ You know better than to challenge me. “ 

“ Maybe.. “ I replied and at that exact moment is when I felt his hand slip under my dress. He started tracing light circles along my abdomen causing my breathing to become shallow. His fingers found their way beneath my underwear and he began to slowly rub at my clit which made me whimper. 

I could feel his smirk in the crook of my neck and he quickened his movements, causing my knees to buckle. He wrapped an arm around my waist to help me stand up right then slipped a finger into me. I let out a sharp gasp and rested my head back against his shoulder. Klaus chuckled and started kissing my neck, most definitely leaving hickies behind. It was that moment that all other thoughts escaped my mind. I only focused on him and what he was doing to my body. 

“ Klaus… please. “ I moaned quietly 

“ What is it, love? “ He asked 

“ I need you.. “ I said through a whimper 

“ Yeah? “ Klaus replied 

“ Yes.. “ I answered breathlessly 

He pulled his hand away and walked me over to a desk that was in the corner of the room. Before I knew it, I was bent over and my dress was pushed up over my hips. Klaus pulled my underwear down my legs and helped me step out of it. There was a moment of silence before his hand came down and hit my ass with a loud smack that echoed throughout the room. I yelped which caused him to chuckle and I rolled my eyes while being thankful that he couldn’t see my face as I did. 

It wasn’t long before I felt him lining himself up with my entrance. He thrusted into me roughly causing me to moan. Klaus’s pace was slow and rough at first but then it became faster and more aggressive.  He grabs my wrists and pins my arms behind my back, using my arms as handlebars. My moans and the sound of our skin slapping is echoing off the walls, which only encourages him to pick up the pace slightly more. I’m so loud to the point that I feel like everyone can hear me over the classical music that is being played downstairs, but I didn’t care. 

“ That’s it love, let them hear you. “ He said as he wrapped my hair around one of his hands and used it to pull my head back, making me gasp. His other hand is still keeping my arms pinned behind my back. 

“ You’re mine.“ He whispered into my ear

” I’m yours.“ I whimpered back 

“ Damn right you are. “ Klaus replied 

He continued his brutal pace and angled his hips in order to hit the spot that brings me maximum pleasure. Klaus lets go of my wrists just to use his now freehand to reach around me and down between my legs. He starts rubbing my clit in slow rough circles. I’m a moaning, whimpering mess at this point and I am on the brink of hitting my orgasm already. Klaus tugs at my hair harder this time and pulls my back up against his chest. He starts kissing my neck again then gently bites my earlobe. 

“ Come for me, love. “ He whispers in my ear and I do just that while crying out his name. Klaus continues his movements for a moment longer until he reaches his high. He lets go of me and pulls away from me which causes me to whimper. I stand up right and turn around to face him, he hands me back my underwear and I slip them back on then I fix my dress and flatten it out. I look up at him and before I can even get a word out he cups my face and kisses me. I kissed him back and this kiss was so much different compared to our others. It was sweet, soft, and filled with meaning. When we finally pulled away from each other he smiled at me then kissed my forehead. It was in that moment that I knew things were going to be different from now on. 

“ Considering the fact that I am certain your date is no longer here, will you be mine? “ He asked 

“ Yes. “ I replied with a smile 

“ Perfect.” Klaus said with a smile as he held his hand out and I took it then we walked out of the room together. 

©

[cameronspecial]

Assisting In Deception (Part 10)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Jokes

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.1K 

Summary: Can Rafe do whatever he can to get his happily ever after with Y/N?

A/N: This is the final part and I hope you enjoy it! I am going to miss writing for these two because I love their dynamic.

Masterlist

The news had gotten out, not only about Y/N and Rafe’s break up but also about their relationship being only for the media and wedding. A lower-level lawyer at Cameron Development had found their contract and after the breakup was made public by someone at the company, she thought it was a good time for a payday. In true media fashion, Y/N was crucified for being a whore and materialistic, while Rafe was praised for being such a great boyfriend to her even when the relationship was fake. The double standard bothers Rafe way more than it did Y/N. She has finally learned not to take anything to heart. Rafe on the other hand knows how much those labels sunk into her skin, especially since he called her those exact same things. He has done every single possible interview he could to clear her name, but no outlet would really listen to his words. 

Not to mention, his father’s anger just adds to his feeling of guilt. Ward screamed about how Rafe could treat her that way and he should’ve made the relationship real as soon as he knew he was falling for her. Ward wasn’t upset at the lie; instead, his feelings were more focused on the fact that his son had let love go.

Rafe is going to get her back though and this is the only thing he has ever been a hundred percent sure about in his entire life. The long days without the refreshing smell of strawberry shampoo and the long nights without the soft whispers from her sleeping lips are driving him insane. Every morning and night he reaches out to pull her into his warmth, always being left empty-handed. 

He thinks of a thousand ways to make it up to her, but he doesn’t know what to do. He decides to go to the one person who he knows could help him with her. “Juni, please talk to me. I need your help,” he begs, wedging his foot between the door and its frame to stop it from shutting in his face. The shorter girl shakes her head, “She is very angry at you. I don’t know what I can do for you. We both know she doesn’t mess around and that’s exactly what you did, Big C” His eyes flicker to the carpeted floors of the hallway, dragging his left foot back and forth across it. “You don’t need to think about anything. I just need you to send her food every week. I’ll give you my card number so you can charge it to me because I know she won’t take it if I put my name on it,” he states. His hand reaches into his pocket to pull out his card. Her head tilts and her eyebrows frow together to become one.

“If this is about getting her back, then what’s the point of sending her the food without your name?” 

“It’s not about her forgiving me or taking me back. I just want to make sure that she can still eat out. I know she’ll get frugal about her money while she is figuring out a new budget with her new income and she won’t factor in getting take-out into her budget until everything else is taken care of. Her accountant degree will definitely kick in.” 

“That’s really sweet. And I know what you mean, she’s already started cutting her own expenses on groceries. I’ve never seen her go more than a day without having coffee from the shop downstairs. It’s weird.” 

“Exactly, so do it for me, please. I just want her to be happy and cared for.”

“Fine, you are lucky that I was rooting for you guys.” 

“Thank you! Thank you so much! Let me know if you guys need anything else, okay? Nothing is too big.” 

“I know Y/N needs a trip to Cabo, but under my name.” 

He gives her a playful smile with the tilt of his head. She shrugs, “I tried. Let me know if you need any help with your plan.” Rafe nods at her offer. “I will. Thank you again,” he says, walking away from the apartment after their goodbyes. 

——

Y/N sits at her desk looking at the number on her screen. They start to merge together and she wants to bang her head against the wall. She got a job as an accountant’s assistant and she is not exactly thrilled with it, but it made the most sense because of her degree. She needed a job and she didn’t have the time to try to figure out what is the right career for her. Her boss has gone to lunch but needed her to stay behind to finish up this budget. 

The noise from the door draws her focus to Lydia, the secretary for the office. Nutmeg and parsley fill the room with its aroma. Her mouth salivates as it smells exactly like her favourite creamy mushroom gnocchi. The brown bag with a familiar logo sits in Lydia’s hand. “A delivery guy brought this over. Said it was from Juni,” she explains, placing it on her desk before exiting. Y/N grins at the bag and her hands draw together near her chest. Her shoulders sway from side to side in a little dance. She opens the bag, letting the food overwhelm her senses. With her phone in hand, she takes a selfie of herself hovering over the food and sends it to Juni with a thank you. The food hits her taste buds and she wants to melt as the creamy goodness settles in. 

——

“Sir, all of your meetings, appointments and business dinners are on your calendar. I took the liberty of decolour-coding the calendar and rearranged it in a manner that each happens in the same time frame every day. It makes more sense like that. All your meetings are arranged in the afternoon. Appointments in the mornings. And obviously the business dinners in the evening,” Ricardo debriefs, showing Rafe with his tablet what he meant. Rafe isn’t too pleased that Ricardo changed Y/N’s system, but he knows it’s because he is holding on to any piece of her he can. It isn’t Ricardo’s fault that she left. Rafe acknowledges he heard his assistant, “Okay, sounds good. Thank you. You may go back to your desk now.” 

Ricardo does as he is told and heads to his desk. The ding from Rafe’s phone immediately attracts his attention. He scrambles to pull it out of his pocket and opens the text from Juni. The screenshot she sent makes the clock stop spinning for just a second. The smile on Y/N’s face is enchanting and he wishes he saw the little dance he knew she did after taking the food out. He sends a thank you back and practically begs her to send him the actual photo so that he can save it to his camera roll. Once she does, he lets out a sigh of happiness. This is who he is trying to fight to get back. 

——

How do you make up for pushing your not-real girlfriend, but the girl you are totally in love with, away is not a Google search that has a lot of results. Something big and grand would scare her away. Something small and intimate doesn’t feel like enough. And there really isn’t a middle ground when it comes to gestures. He always defaults to food, so he wants to do something different from his norm. The sounds of his socked feet dragging against the hardwood floor bounce off of the walls as he paces the room. His head darts to the space over his bed and he stops. He takes in the painting he bought from Nancy. Each stroke comes together to show the emotions he felt at that moment and he knows the perfect way to prove to Y/N what he feels for her. 

——

When she opens the door, Nancy isn’t expecting to see her sister’s fake ex-boyfriend standing behind it. “What do you want?” she growls, crossing her arms. It is clear that her crush on him is gone with the way he upset Y/N. He looks at her with pleading eyes, “Hey Little Artist, I need your help. Please.” Her cheeks start to redden, but he can tell that it isn’t because of embarrassment or her small crush. 

“Why should I help you? You called my sister a gold digger. Do you know how much she is hurting right now? If anything I should be trying to figure out how to hide your body.”

“I know. I’m sorry that I hurt her and I want to tell her this too. I just need your help with how I execute this apology.”

“Well, I don’t want to.”

“Little Artist, please. I love your sister so much and I can’t handle knowing that I’ve made her feel bad about herself. I just want to apologize and show her her worth again. If she tells me to get lost after I do, then I promise she will never hear or see me again. I just want her to be happy.”

Nancy looks him in the eyes and her anger lessens at what she sees. Rafe is practically in tears at the thought of what he has done. His words have really hit home for her. “Fine, I’ll help you. But you are buying me food.” 

“Wow, you really do take after your sister.” 

——

Nancy watches over his shoulder as he sketches onto the canvas. The look she makes at the outline causes him to turn towards him. “What did I do wrong?” he asks, immediately erasing the mark he just made. Her hand stops his movement, “No, it’s not that. It’s just that this is great and all, but you aren’t capturing anything deep. I don’t feel the emotion you are trying to convey right now. Just make sure when you are painting to try to bring what you are trying to say to life. But don’t worry about it for now.” He takes in her advice and keeps doing what he is told. 

The next day he starts painting. He is a lot more nervous about making the first mark than he thought he would be. “Would you stop being a big baby and just start?” Nancy complains, trying to push the paintbrush in his hand onto the canvas. His strength halts her attempt, “No, I can’t. I have to make this perfect, Little Artist. I need to show your sister how sorry I am.” “Trying to make it perfect isn’t going to work. The raw emotion you put into it is what is going to make it perfect. So turn your brain off and start,” she commands. She goes over to her own canvas to do some work. He takes a deep breath and takes a leap of fate in himself by completing the first stroke. 

——

For weeks, Juni has been sending Y/N food every single day at the office. Y/N has tried to tell her that leftovers are okay to eat for lunch, but she doesn’t appear to listen. Y/N questioned how Juni could’ve gotten the money and was met with the promise that her work has added a lunch plan for two in her contract. This doesn’t sound any bit true to Y/N, but she goes along with the lie. The headphones over her ears make her oblivious to the world around her. She opens the door to the dark apartment, grooving to the music. The routine she moves through when she gets home goes smoothly until she gets to her bedroom. 

The thin large square package leaning against her bed is not a part of that routine. She approaches the gift, looking for any indication of who sent it or how it got into her room. Her first thought is to ask Juni if she knows anything and is met with the answer to her question. You got a package this morning when you left. I brought it into your room, Sweetie. This eases her worry that someone has broken into her room. She puts her purse away and starts tearing into the wrapping paper. The painting she finds brings tears to her eyes. Years of living with Nancy means Y/N knows a little bit about painting, so she knows the technique is nowhere near perfect. Yet, the meaning it is trying to convey is clear to the woman. She can feel the emotion he felt while he painted it. There could only be one person who made this for her. 

The subject of the painting: her, specifically from a picture of her when they went to Greece. They had found a little cafe near the beach and she was completely in love with the saragli and baklava he bought her. She was too occupied enjoying the nutty and sticky pastry to notice him taking her picture. The painting isn’t a good likeness to her. Her nose is a little too close to her lips and her eyes are wider apart than in actuality, but the lighting tells her everything she needs to know. She remembers the picture vividly and knows that it isn’t accurate to the day. Instead, the light paints her in a golden light that makes her look ethereal. The love he feels for her comes across with every golden stroke on the canvas. Her anger starts to vanish. 

She doesn’t know how she knows, but she heads to the front door. Y/N opens the door to find Rafe waiting with bubble tea in his hand. “The painting was amazing. It doesn’t make up for what you said though,” she comments, moving out of the way for him to come in. He does and sets the drinks on the kitchen island, “I know. I was hoping the bubble tea would make up for the rest of it.” 

“You and I both know that’s not what I am waiting for, Boss.”

“I know… I’m sorry, Butterfly. I have never thought that you were a gold digger. I was hurting because I didn’t like seeing you with another guy.”

“Just because you are hurting, it doesn’t mean you get to hurt me.” 

“That’s true. And I want to prove to you that I don’t truly think those things. But I’m going to have to be around you for that to happen. So if you feel the same way about me as I think you do, then please let me back into your life. I missed your excited squeals about food or watching you play with Dax. He misses you too you know.” 

“I miss him too. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you.” 

He steps toward her, reaching for her hand. His fingertips graze hers before she lets his large hand envelop hers. His lips brush the shell of her ear, “I am prepared to wait for eternity to get you back.” Her eyebrows form a caterpillar as she gives him a trying look. “What if it takes an eternity and one day?” she pushes. His other arm pulls her flush against his chest by the waist, “I’d beg on my knees an eternity and a hundred days if you want.” “On your knees, huh? How about on your knees between my thighs?” Y/N whispers, lips ghosting his. She can basically feel his lips on hers. “I thought I was apologizing to you? But I’ll be on my knees between wherever you want. So, are we going to give me another chance?” 

“I think I have to think about it.” 

He chuckles at her playful tone, “Well, I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” She takes the lead and brings his lips to hers. Their lips move in tandem like a well-oiled machine. Her hands twist in his hair and he plays with the bottom of hers. This is where they are meant to be. She is who he is meant to be with. 

——

A year. A year of bliss as her official boyfriend. Although Rafe likes to count the time they spent faking dating as the start of their relationship, he knows Y/N likes the beginning of their relationship to be the day she found his painting in her room. She believes it’s more romantic that way. Now, she’s spent the last six months living in his apartment with him. He gets to wake up every day with her and go to sleep beside her every night. 

After they got together, Y/N didn’t go back to work for him and he completely understood why. She wanted to find someplace for herself in the world, which she did. Her love of food turned into an Instagram account reviewing different places around the city. It’s grown quite the following, but nothing so great that she would quit her job as an assistant accountant. Rafe insisted that he would take care of her while she pursued this passion, but ever the planner she is, she said that she wants a steady income to make some savings for herself first. Plus, accounting is a little more bearable when she can devour delicious food for money after work. 

Y/N is away at a work conference for the week and the empty house makes Rafe feel a little lonely. Dax keeps him company, but waking up the first day she is away is normally the hardest for him. Over the last six months of living together, they have grown into a well-synced routine with each other that is currently broken. Rafe would normally wake up earlier than needed so they could get ready for work together and he could drive her to her office before he gets to work himself. He tried offering to buy her a car, but she is very keen on saving up for one herself and he is not about to take away her independence. He sadly walks to the bathroom, getting ready to brush his teeth by himself. His hand reaches for the toothbrush and is met with the sound of paper rustling against his finger. He looks down to see a Post-it note on his toothbrush: I’m sorry I had to go away for work, but I love you, always, Boss. He smiles at the little note and feels his mood start to lift immediately. 

The next note he finds is in his car. The sun was in his eyes while he was getting ready to pull out of the parking spot, so he put down the sun visor, only for a small paper square to float down onto his lap. Did you know that 90% of drivers sing behind the wheel? So sing your heart out to Call Me Maybe, Boss. He loves it when she gives him random facts. He opens his phone case so he can keep it safe to put it with all the others. He’s kept every single Post-it note she has ever written for him, even the ones she wrote when she started as his assistant. 

By the third note, he guesses that the rest of the time that Y/N is away he is just going to be finding them everywhere. Ricardo walks in like he normally does every morning to give him a detailed rundown of his day. “The last thing of note is that Ms. Y/L/N has ordered me to give you this today,” Ricardo finishes, handing Rafe a blue piece of paper. He waits for Ricardo to leave before reading it. What do you call a butterfly that can fly faster than any other butterfly? A betterfly. He laughs at the horrible joke and texts her the laughing emoji. He knows she’ll know why without any context. He waits for a response and receives the kissy face emoji. 

He gets home from work and is getting ready to feed Dax when he finds the next one. He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice the note sticking to the jar when he fed Dax this morning but he shrugs it off. Confusion crosses his face when he reads it though. Hi Daddy, Mommy wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be an only child soon. Love, Dax. Why in the world would Dax not be an only child soon? Is this her way of telling him she is adopting another dog? Dax whines for the food and snaps him out of his thoughts. He’ll just have to call her later to ask. 

The phone call he plans to make gets quickly forgotten and he is watching TV at the moment. However, Dax’s scratching at one of the guest bedroom doors removes Rafe from the couch. He goes upstairs to see what is going on, opening the door to see what Dax wants. The dog immediately enters the room and hops on the bed to his favourite chew toy that has somehow got in there. He heads over to take the toy into the living room so he can keep an eye on Dax. He stops at the contrast of the bright pink sticky notes against the light gray sheets. “Huh, why would mommy leave a note here? We never go in here,” he asks the occupied dog. Rafe takes a second and remembers the last time this room was used. It was the first-night Y/N had ever stayed over at his house. His hand hesitantly picks up the note and this time he isn’t met with words but a drawing.

The drawing is of a woman without a clear view of her face because her hair is blocking it. She is looking down at her round belly with her hands placed lovingly on it. Rafe’s first thought is that there is no way Y/N drew this because she can barely draw stick figures this well. Then the dots start to connect. The note before this one. The complaints that her favourite foods are repulsing her. The crying at every animal commercial. The little belly weight she gained that he just chalked up to being because he read in one article that the extra weight gained at the beginning of a new relationship means they are happy and he isn’t displeased by that fact. His happiness quickly turns to upset that she isn’t here to celebrate the news with her.

His hands clumsily fish for his phone in his pocket and he goes to dial her number. When the ringing comes from behind, he freezes all movement. He slowly turns around to see her standing with a massive grin on her face. His phone drops to the floor and he doesn’t care that a massive crack noise sounds throughout the room. He runs to her, taking her into his arms. He lifts her up from the ground and spins her in excitement. Her giggles send pure joy through him. “We are having a baby!” he exclaims, finally letting her two feet find the ground again. She takes his chin into her hand so she can look into his eyes, “We are.” 

“I can’t believe it. We have so much to do. I have to go to the store so we can repaint this room. Actually, we should hire someone to paint a mural. And we have to pick out the crib, a new dresser, a diaper gen-”

“Woah, woah, woah, Boss. Slow down a little. The baby isn’t coming for another nine months. And I thought I was supposed to be the planner.”

“You are right. I’m just really excited. I literally just found out about them and they are just the size of like a pea, but I already love them as much as I love their mommy. I can’t help it.” 

“I love you too and I can’t wait to meet them too.” 

The couple takes a moment to just look at each other in their eyes, conveying all their emotions and thoughts. The baby was not planned, but it is clear to both of them that the baby is still very much wanted. They smile at this communication and kiss each other for the first time since she got home. For once in her life, Y/N Y/L/N took a chance on love and look where she is now. She never looked back on that decision to let go of her fear of commitment because it led her to not only her first love of her life but to her second one as well. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis @drewsmusee @starkowswife @mskezza @h34rtsformilli @ijustwanttoreadlols @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @bellbottombaby @jaydaaasworld

[rosypenguins]

Day Five of Freakblr Month! Something I like/dislike about Jake!

To start off, something I like: I absolutely adore his struggle between choosing the Music Club, and the Dromies.

Now, I’m gonna start this off saying that I’ve BEEN in Jake’s exact situation of having to choose between friend groups multiple times in my life. (People-pleasing tendencies be damned.) And honestly, this is genuinely, unironically one of the best portrayals of that I’ve found in media. (And it’s a Gacha of all things.)

But seriously, I adore the way his character arc was written, and how he struggles to keep both sides happy. The lying, and the struggle to remain loyal to both sides (which only in turn makes him loyal to no-one) hits so hard as someone who’s been through this.

He constantly shoves his own thoughts and problems to the side. He ignores his own desires in favor of pleasing those around him. And the line where he expresses how he wishes he was someone else, is honestly so real and genuinely hurts to hear.

Like, the scene in episode 7 puts it so damn well. I cannot express it enough. How he feels he almost owes it to Drew and the Dromies to stay by their side, and how he still cares about them despite how much their words and actions hurt those he cares for, and him.

He’s never shown to care about his own feelings, he only cares about making everyone else happy, which is why it feels to rewarding to see him finally figure out and fight for what he wants. And to see him finally reveal the truth, despite knowing how much it’ll hurt his old friends. He no longer lies to please others. He finally learns to tell the truth. The painful, ugly truth, that finally sets him free.

He’s a flawed protagonists, but he’s trying. And seeing him grow throughout the show is genuinely so rewarding, and watching him find a group that finally accepts him for who he is just…

This image is how I feel. Unironically. I love Jake so much.

*+*+*

Now, for something I dislike: I hate; with a burning passion; how Jake handled the fact Zoey was cheating on Drew.

Now before I get into this, I’m just gonna say that I don’t think this is a flaw of Jake’s character. I think this is more a writing flaw, considering Jake is shown to care about Drew in every other instance, except for this one. To recap the situation: Jake found out Zoey was cheating on Drew, and instead of telling Drew, his literal best friend about this, he chooses to keep it secret, using it as blackmail to protect a girl he’d known for two days.

I’m sorry… WHAT?! EXCUSE ME?!?! You’re BEST FRIEND IS BEING CHEATED ON AND ALL YOUR ASS IS CONCERNED WITH IS THIS GIRL WHO YOU MET A DAY AGO??? Like I understand Jake’s a people pleaser, but JAKE THAT’S YOUR BEST FRIEND??? YOUR BEST FRIEND WHO TOOK YOU IN AS A FRESHMAN AND GAVE YOU A PLACE TO BELONG?!?! YOUR BEST FRIEND WHO GENUINELY CARES ABOUT YOU AND WANTS TO PROTECT YOU?!?!!

It genuinely makes no sense, especially considering it IS IMPLIED Jake cares about Drew, yet his actions here scream otherwise.

And I know that Jake’s not the only one in Jake’s friend group who lied. Everyone did. (RIP Drew.) But I feel like their reasons for lying were a little more understandable.

Like, Henry and Liam were clearly being threatened into keeping their mouths shut, and Lia’s Zoey’s best friend. Lia had to keep quiet or risks losing her popularity and reputation, which she got because of Zoey. But Jake isn’t being threatened at all. He’s the one threatening Zoey.

Not only that, but when Jake DOES finally tell Drew, he weaponizes it. He KNOWS that he’s going to hurt Drew by telling him this and THAT’S why he does it. Not because Drew deserves to know, but because he’s using the truth as a weapon. He uses it AS A WEAPON TO ATTACK DREW FOR SOMETHING HE DIDN’T EVEN DO?!?!

It’s genuinely so fucked up and so out of character for Jake to do. Like, I understand he’s upset but this is just downright shallow and petty. And not at all fair to Drew, who has only been trying to help Jake in his own twisted possessive way.

And does he go back and apologize once he finds out Lia’s the one who leaked the recording? NO! Does he express any sort of guilt or remorse? NO!! IT’S SO FUCKING SHITTY!! And also completely illogical, which is why I think this was more of a writing flaw than anything. It was something to give the climax more drama I guess, but there are other ways to do that without taking Jake out of character.

TLDR: I like Jake’s character development. I hate how he covers up Zoey’s cheating only to weaponize it just to hurt Drew.

@31days-of-freakblr

[gabessquishytum]

Okay someone somewhere said ballet dancer hob and rewrote my brain chemistry.

So. Ballet director dream was once the absolute best in the world but he had a violent feud with a cold and demanding director named Burgess. During one practice Burgess was yelling and screaming at Dream for being useless (he hoped by hiring Dream, his legendary sister Death would come dance for the London ballet too. It didn’t work and he is bitter about it now). And it turns into a fight and Burgess hits Dream in the knee with his cane, injuring it so badly it ruins his career. (His mistake. In revenge, Dream launches a hostile takeover and ousts the asshole.)

Now Dream is the cold and demanding director of the London ballet. And for ten years (time skip because of silver fox dream supremacy) he builds himself up into an absolute legend. Gault is the prime ballerina because I say so. The Corinthian took over Dream’s role as the other star for a while but eventually he wouldn’t take direction and is also sort of a scummy person so they have a massive falling out and he quits.

Without the Corinthian, people say Dream’s shows have lost their spark. He gets colder and more difficult and demanding as a result. Everyone is on the brink of quitting.

Death is now a director too and she promises Dream that she knows the perfect replacement who will breathe new life into his company.

And she sends him Hob.

Hob is the exact opposite of Dream. He went to school on scholarship. He never even saw a ballet until he was 16. He started late but he’s making up for it with the sheer joy he brings to his dancing. He fucking loves it. There’s something loose and free in his dancing that’s so opposite from Dream’s typical technically perfect but brutally emotional style.

Dream bets Death that Hob will quit within a month. Hob is always showing up smiling and joking around and distracting others. Dream is hard on him as he is hard on everyone. And yet. Hob doesn’t quit.

There’s something about the way he throws himself into the dance that is unshakeable.

Dream can’t help but wonder when he lost that kind of joy. He is very quickly captivated by him. It is always this way. Dream fell for Calliope’s dancing before they ever spoke, those many years ago.

One night, Dream catches Hob dancing late on the stage when everyone else has left, practicing a section Dream criticized him harshly for. It is hard not to overcorrect and be too harsh on Hob. Dream knows eventually it will drive Hob away. So for now he stays in the shadows and watches, his heart pounding against his ribs.

When he’s done, Hob looks right at Dream and asks if that was any better.

Dream wasn’t aware Hob had known he was being watched, but he climbs up onto the stage with him. He tells Hob he is improving. But Dream has extremely high standards and it takes more than passion to survive in this world.

Hob just smiles at him and starts his cool down stretches. “I don’t know. I think you could use a little passion.” He‘s flushed and Dream…can’t quite look away.

“I want to impress you. I want to improve,” Hob tells him. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Dream carefully doesn’t examine his words closely. Hob…can’t be imagining what Dream is. He doesn’t know what things Dream might ask for.

“I am not known for my kindness,” Dream says stiffly. “More experienced dancers than you have quit rather than work for me.”

Hob rises to his feet. “You can’t scare me off. I want this,” he insists. “I want to be here.”

Dream is reluctantly impressed. But he is also picturing Hob on his knees in Dream’s silk sheets and he doesn’t know how to stop. “I can be…punishing,” he warns, unwisely worded.

Hob is beautiful and determined in the stage lights. “Punish me,” he dares him.

Oh I LOVE a ballet au!! There’s so much drama here, I love it. Love the idea of dancer Hob, imagine the Billy Elliot vibes!!! Or maybe he doesn’t start dancing until he’s a teenager. Either way he’s the most lively, exciting dancer of his generation and he has so much JOY when it comes to ballet. He’s rough and uncouth at times but the moment he starts dancing he just becomes the most beautiful thing in the room. Death has nurtured him and given him a wonderful grasp of technique, but she knows that in order to become the greatest dancer he can be, Hob needs to go to Dream.

The thing about Hob is, he loves ballet. Loves it in a way that simply can’t be faked. And Dream’s heart clenches each time he sees Hob because he used to be like that! He used to love ballet more than anything in the world. Where has that love gone, and when did he get so angry and cold? It’s not something that Dream wants to dwell on, but watching Hob makes him feel things he hasn’t felt in a decade.

Watching Hob also makes him horny, but that's another thing that he's not ready to unpack.

Imagine Hob practicing at the barre. Repeating over and over, the same exercises, the same positions that Dream has drilled into him. He sees Dream watching him in the mirror and his eyes just light up! He works even harder, enjoying the attention, enjoying the fact that he KNOWS that Dream is going to find something to pick up on.

Imagine Dream stalking up to Hob and just pouncing. Pressing him against the mirror and kissing him desperately. Hob’s fingers stroke Dream’s silver streaked temples and his mouth moves just as beautifully as his body does when he's dancing.

And when Dream pulls back he's like "your tendu is sloppy, do it again." And Hob can't help but grin <3

[gladiatorcunt]

i'd really like to know if he'd have any types of kinks or a type?!!

like from what I've read from you, maybe it's just my impression, but does he find chubby people more attractive? (self-insert hihi)

or just kinks he'd have; like, modern!coryo screams corruption kink (maybe even a virgin!reader 👀), and things like degradation/praise, as well as a pretty big dom situation 👀

anyways, love your stuff!

I can't help coming back to your modern! coryo au literally everyday, I'm in love 🫡🫠

CW: implied-ish plus sized reader but i use “chubbier” so it’s a bit ambiguous i guess but that’s how i picture them, don’t like don’t read

First of all, thank you so much for loving the au, it's kind of getting demotivating a bit to see the fandom slow down but I'll ALWAYS have modern! coryo brain rot. So, I guess someday I'll be shouting into the void lmao.

I do think that when it comes to preferences, he does prefer chubbier people. He's one of those guys that likes being able to just really grab and slap anything and everything because you've got more than enough meat on your bones. Also, idk how to quite explain it, but I think he enjoys what he believes is a more realistic (?) body, like he'd deadass get so offended if you thought you had to shave or cover up stretch marks. He comes from a very superficial world where the beauty standards are impossible to achieve (edit: i’m NOT talking about being skinny being impossible, i’m talking about general beauty standards and having an unrealistically proportioned body like the ones in media, i’m aware that skinny people exist) . It's like how for a while, Aphrodite and other similar goddesses were depicted in media as very skinny but when you look back at how they were actually worshiped, there are statues and carvings and etc. with belly rolls and all kinds of versions of bigger bodies. That's what reader's body reminds him of, gets him feel closer to God and all that.

I'll get to some actual kinks in a second, but I do think he likes more of a reluctant person. He's someone that is built for the chase and that really revels in the wooing process, he'd never been in love before you, so the rush of intense feelings kicks his adrenaline into overdrive. It's a sort of predator/prey thing without being a full-blown kink, Coryo stalks and he circles around you until you're given such a small window of escape that you already missed your chance by the time he decides that he's done waiting around. You have the whole cutesy 'will they? won't they?' thing going for a bit until you just don't anymore.

In my head, modern!coryo's reader is a virgin for that exact purpose lol like he does have a fuck boy past that's typical for his place in society, so I just love the idea of sex suddenly becoming so "special" to him now that he's possessed with the need to mold your experience around him so you could never be satisfied by anyone else. I think he'd want to keep some of that shyness and insecurity no matter how much experience he gives you, so he can reassure you and praise you and tell you to suck on his fingers so the stretch of his cock won't be all you can think about.

He does favor praise over degradation but when he does degrade it's more... positive (???) in his eyes, calling you dumb because he wants you know you don't have to be smart, saying you're his slutty whore because he wants you to feel comfortable enough being as nasty as possible with him, etc. No matter what name he calls you, he's adding 'my' in front of it. The words will be the same, but his tone will change based on if you're driving him crazy (basically if he gets jealous for no reason again)

I also think that's he way more of a Dom type, he'll never go into extreme type stuff and he's more of a gentle Dom depending on the situation that led up to you fucking or making love. My modern!coryo is never going to let you have more control than letting you ride him (and you always end up getting tired, so he has to take over, which he is more than happy to do!). His control issues are severe like they are in canon, he's exhausted trying to hold himself back from just losing it on everybody. So, having a stress toy of an s/o that he can micromanage and love without limits does wonders for his mental health.

He's obviously obsessed with spanking/LIGHT impact play. The only bruises you'll get will be from him squeezing you too hard or littering your body with hickies, he'd bite you to pieces too but he likes to think that he has some sense of decorum.

He could get behind silk bondage, whether it's patterns on your body or spreading you out on the bed with your ankles and wrists tied to the bed frame. But he wouldn't do it because he wants to keep you from touching, he just wants to love you properly without you hurting yourself because you got shy and squirmed all over the place.

© talonplague 2024. please reblog and interact if you enjoyed!!

[tryslora]

...but is it Hugo worthy?

The subconscious can be an evil thing.

When I was a teenager (15 to be exact) I already knew I wanted to be a writer, and had been working at my craft (such as it was) for three long years. I was starting to submit stories (they were rejected). I was growing up in fandom, attending literary SF cons, and on Labor Day weekend in 1983, I was at ConStellation—the World SF convention in Baltimore.

I attended the Hugo Award ceremony, and there I watched Connie Willis win her first Hugo for her Novelette “Fire Watch” (yes, I went and fact-checked my memory on this part). During her speech, she referenced being a teenager and listening to someone else give a speech about winning a Hugo… and I thought… this is my defining moment. I will never forget this. And when I win my own Hugo, I will reference this story.

I have obviously never won a Hugo.

I came to realize long ago that the words I write are not the kinds of stories that win the big awards. This is okay! And this is not a pity party. I write accessible fiction—popcorn fiction, I call it. The kind that has fairly simple language, character-oriented plotlines, and hopefully makes a reader want to sit down and read the whole thing (eat the whole bowl) and maybe grab the next because I’ve whet their appetite.

I know this is how my brain works. When I aim for a more literary style, I end up with incomprehensible text, plots that make no sense, and allusions that are weird enough to take a person out of the story. So… I don’t.

But I still have this expectation baked into my skin—into my soul—that the way to be a Real Writer is to write the kinds of stories that make someone say “this is the best thing I’ve read all year” and nominate it for an award.

Sometimes I read a story (of any length) by a writer who is my peer in some manner and I feel the imposter syndrome bubble up, surrounding me until I can’t think—can’t breathe—any more. The story is so good and sometimes is buried under independent or small press publishing where I know it won’t get the eyes/readers it deserves. I want to scream about it from the rooftops. This story, this amazing story that won’t have a ton of eyes on it, is in my mind Hugo worthy (or Nebula worthy… substitute in whatever proper award fits in your mind).

I also hear that little voice that says “well, isn’t it good you didn’t apply this anthology/magazine/press” or worse yet “you are in this too, and your work isn’t nearly this good” because that’s what I internalized as a teen. That this is the only way to be good. That this wonderful story I am reading, which twists words and plot in unique and fascinating ways, is the only kind of story that merits praise.

I don’t think that voice will ever completely go away.

I do feel better as I continue reading the anthology/magazine/whatever and realize that not every single story in it gives me that same “OMG” reaction. When I sit down and think about it, I know that love of a particular story is subjective. There is no truly objective way to judge the worth of words (despite what our high school English teachers tried to tell us). What a story is, and how it is told, may touch my soul and no one else’s. Or vice versa. I’ve read entire anthologies that are highly regarded without a single story striking me as amazing.

Sometimes I think back to what we say about writing fanfic: write what you love, and there is someone out there looking for this exact story who will be thrilled to find it.

I try to remind myself of this when I fall into the “is it Hugo worthy?” downward spiral.

For every story that sells, someone loves it enough to buy it. And they love it enough to think that there will be others who love it, too.

For every story that is written, there might be that editor out there—the one with all that love for the story (and it might take several failures before finding that one with the love). The trick is drafting the best set of words to tell the story to trip that moment of “I love that” in a reader’s eyes. 

The words don’t have to be necessarily elevated. Floofy. Literary. But they have to tell the story that I want to tell.

And if that story is one fluffy popped kernel in a bowl, that’s okay. My goal can be to make my reader reach for the next, rather than being award-worthy. It’s okay to be a delicious salty snack; people talk about those with joy, too.

I will probably never win a Hugo. I am still delighted every time someone bumps into me at a con and says “Oh, that’s how I know you!” after hearing about the books, stories, and fics I have written. Touching hearts is joy in itself.

[bbangsuns]

all the things we tried to forget | r.c

requested?: no, but it’s been over a year since i put anything out and decided i needed to start writing again. there will be a part two!

part 2

pairing?: rafe cameron x gn!pogue!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of rafe’s drug addiction, i think that’s it? i also tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible. there’s not a lot of dialogue either

a/n: english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry for any grammar mistakes or any issues with the way it’s written. i used bee as the nickname because it’s something my childhood best friend would call me, but you can change it to whatever you want!

word count: 1.2k

you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment everything changed and started falling apart right in front of you. one moment, he’s your sweet, patient, and loving boyfriend, the one you fell in love with when you were 14 years old; the next, he’s temperamental and distant, constantly making up excuses as to why he can’t be with you. but the worst part? you knew exactly what he was doing, yet you stayed by his side and shook off every excuse with a small smile and a quiet ‘it’s okay baby, i love you. we can always reschedule.’

this situation was taking such a toll on you that you often spent the nights alone sobbing quietly to yourself in rafe’s room or at the château, venting to the pogues about everything that was haunting you—whether rafe still loved you, if he still wanted to be with you, if the relationship was worth it at this point. that last one was what hurt the most because you had been hopelessly in love with the boy for the last 5 years, and you couldn’t stand to lose him, but you also couldn’t stay in a relationship knowing he would inevitably choose drugs over you once again.

“bee, what happened? are you hurt?” jj and kie had asked you one day when you showed up to john b’s house in tears, not knowing where else to go or what to do. you had rushed over after a nasty fight with rafe, with him spewing some of the nastiest words that have ever been said to you.

— at the cameron household —

“god i wish you would leave me the fuck alone! do you know how annoying it is to have a girlfriend clinging to you like some fucking leech? do you know how embarrassing it is when kelce makes fun of me for it? no you don’t!” rafe had practically screamed in your face. his words didn’t end there, though.

“i wish i would’ve listened to kelce and topper’s suggestions of just fucking you and ditching you afterwards. at least that way i wouldn’t have to deal with someone being up my ass all the time and trying to control my decisions. or maybe, i should date one of the many little kooks that have given me their number.”

that last comment made you freeze, looking up at rafe with anger, hurt and disbelief written all over your face and in your eyes. he knew just how insecure you could be sometimes, especially because he was constantly criticized for dating a “dirty pogue”, causing other girls, especially kooks, to try and get him to leave you, to get with someone ‘better’ and prettier. all you could do was scoff at him and push him out of the way, rushing out of the cameron household and to your car, speeding off to the chateau knowing it’s the only place you could go to.

— with the pogues —

“bee? are you okay, bub?” sarah was now standing in front of you, her hands on your shoulders as she softly shook you to get you out of the memory of what happened just a few minutes before.

you shook your head vigorously, not knowing how to get the words out without your voice breaking the entire time. you walked into the house and sat on the pullout couch, your hands tugging at your hair harshly as you laid your head in them. kie quickly rushed over and wrapped her arms around your shoulder, shushing you and pulling your hands away from your head while pope grabbed some water and tissues for you. eventually, your breathing calmed down and the pressure from your chest lifted, allowing you to finally speak, albeit hoarsely.

“our relationship is completely falling apart and i don’t know how to stop it. he’s not the same boy i fell in love with” you had confessed so quietly that your best friends would’ve missed it if they weren’t listened so intently. you couldn’t look up at them, fearing that they’d have that look of pity that would send you into hysterics again, so you stared at your hands, playing with the ring on your thumb, the one that rafe had bought you for your birthday 2 years ago. staring at the ring, you wondered how things turned sour so suddenly, if there was a way to prevent the last few months from happening. maybe you weren’t good enough for him to confide in you, maybe he was tired of you and your nagging and decided that drugs were better comfort than you could ever provide, maybe—

you were pulled from your thoughts by john b sitting next to you and kie squeezing your hands, making you turn your attention to them. john b was the first to speak, his words shocking you lightly.

“look y/n, i know rafe isn’t the greatest person, especially when it comes to pogues. but with you, you’ve always been able to get through to him and make him realize what he’s doing is shitty. i know this isn’t exactly the same as picking a fight with jj or pope, so that may be why he hasn’t come to his senses yet. maybe you have to approach this situation a little more aggressively.”

kie nodded her head to john b’s words, adding her own thoughts at the end.

“you might have to provide an ultimatum to really get him to see how badly this has affected you: he either chooses you or the drugs.”

at her words, your heart dropped and you felt the pressure in your chest coming back ten times stronger. however, you pushed that to the side as best you could and swallowed harshly, knowing that they were right. you felt your lower lip trembling and your eyes filling with tears once again but you blinked quickly, not wanting to cry anymore.

“i know, i know it’s what i have to do. i’ve tried talking to him, telling him he can always open up to me about what happens between him and ward but he always blows up on me. god, you should’ve seen him right now at his house. it’s like a completely different person was in front of me.”

you’d always despised saying things like that, especially about rafe but it was the simple, ugly truth—he simply wasn’t the same and he desperately needed help.

“i think deep down, the rafe that you fell in love with is still in there. he might just need that big push to start showing him again, and hopefully this does that because if i’m being honest, i miss my brother too.” sarah whispered to you on your left side, making you smile sadly and lean into her, knowing that rafe’s behavior has taken a major toll on her as well. you spoke up again, your voice stronger this time.

you know what, you’re all right. i’m gonna talk to him tomorrow when he’s sober and hopefully more levelheaded. i can’t stay in a relationship where i’m just an afterthought, because no matter how much i love him, i will not allow myself to be hurt this way anymore.”

you were determined to get your old rafe back, but if he decided getting high and drunk was more important to him than you were, then you’d have no choice but to walk away from your relationship and him, despite the fact that it would absolutely kill you inside.

[wasntthataparty]

HI HI HI HI

I was summoned by the words Four Swords Manga and Shadow, you said you didn't have coherent thought so it's totally understandable if you don't answer this (or if you just don't feel like it) but I am so curious about what you thought of it! :D It's one of the only Zelda mangas I've been able to get my hands on and I love it so much so I am 1000000% AHHHHHHH about it :D

Basically this is a piece of paper slowly placed on your kitchen table saying that if you were ever to scream about the Four Swords Manga or Shadow or anything that I would most definitely listen!

kicking my feet and giggling thank you for the ask I can not stress this enough there was something going on between shadow and vio (I know this is not an original thought. Vidow shippers I see you) (spoilers for the manga incase someone else sees this idk i'm not too good at explaining stuff so it's probably fine)

And when he like. Crawled out of the mirror and he’s like “Please, I don’t want to go back to the world of light” and Ganon hits him with the “Lmao idc go fulfill your task” like. AUGH. I felt bad for him bro. And then he’s hit with the “You’re actually a hero yourself, the light’s not harming you” AUGH. I can’t like. Make my thoughts coherent but like, being born for a specific purpose, finding out you don’t have to do that, you, surprisingly, despite how you’re born, have a choice. you want to change. You try to change. You’re going to die for it. You’re okay with dying for it. Screaming crying throwing up why did he have to disappear how is that fair. Like. I can’t do this.

And the colors, Red I love the enthusiasm but. Do we have to cry about everything (I would do the exact same thing. I say this affectionately) Blue, overconfident. That can be a really good thing and a really bad thing. Guys. this is such an original thought. But. what if they all need each other. Because. Because- they’re their own people. But like. Not really. Green you’re the most normal one (and. That’s a low bar.) Vio you’re the 'smart one' but. clearly you suck at betraying people because your shadow FOUGHT FOR YOUR SIDE. aughhh i'm so normal about these guys.

Not sure if any of this like. Makes sense. And if I reread it i’m going to spend too much time to like. Articulate this. But they’re so silly, and it’s crazy that they’re all like. One person, because they’re all their own people in their own right. And how does Four deal with that. Having four separate people share a conscious, because once they’ve been split they don’t just go back, right? Now i’m getting like. Way too into it. Thanks to you and @lan-wangjis-autism for recommending it. losers (thank you sm i should've read it sooner. I'm so normal about this) again sorry if this like. doesn't make sense. i seem to have a habit of answering asks when it's late for me.

[gingerylangylang1979]

So a lot of people still not feeling ANY romance on this show, even with new girl.

I have to laugh at the comments on the latest trailer “Carmy Meets a Girl”. I was I guess expecting more people to be into Carmy and Claire but actually a lot of people are raging about the show jumping the shark, not wanting any romance, how dare they. I thought the dislike would mostly be from Carmy x Sydney shippers but actually it seems like a lot of people really just don’t want ANY ROMANCE. This is interesting because it shows that a lot of people are earnest in their desires for no romance and it doesn’t matter if it’s with Sydney or someone else and people really hate romance. I just didn’t know that sentiment was this big culturally. 

I’m wondering at what point do people think a show turns into a romance? I don’t think Carmy flirting with a girl and exploring dating as he’s trying to get his life and business on track equals the show is now a romance. It’s a drama. Dramas sometimes have romantic elements. That doesn’t make them romantic dramas. I think there are a lot of unrealistic expectations about what a show that is exploring a young man’s life should include and not include. Like, do they JUST want shots of cooking, crying, and screaming? 

This reminds me of fandom angst within my other favorite show The Chosen. I mostly stay out of that fandom because my brand of Jesus believer doesn’t vibe with the random shenanigans and drama. Christian show + fandom = eek for the most part. Anyways, a big controversy is how much of the script is not exact scripture and people want a copy of the Bible reenacted word for word. These people don’t realize that doing that would not translate marvelously onscreen. I love the Bible but I don’t think it’s a screenplay. There are elements of backstory and side plot you need to add to make it a compelling onscreen narrative. People balked at one of the characters having a crush and they stopped that storyline, it seems. But it wasn’t this OTT romance. He’s autistic and it was really cool seeing him explore those feelings and being understood in a time and place that didn’t even know what autistic is. So it wasn’t just to have a romance, it was to show character development and inclusion. I didn’t even think they would end up together, that was just part of the journey. But, I guess they gave into a loud minority of fans who were bothered. The point is that storyline didn’t derail anything or ruin the tone. It only enhanced those characters. 

Anyways, back to The Bear. I don’t think people realize what they would be missing character wise if we really just only saw miserable chef Carmy being miserable in his restaurant, being miserable in his apartment, with an occasional side trip to Cicero’s or Sugar’s. You may think you want three to five seasons of ONLY that, but that would get stale as fuck. I think it’s actually sad when I see tags saying oh he’s miserable and alone, just like me, HE SHOULD STAY THAT WAY FOREVER. Talk about hopeless doom generation. 

I’m depressed and struggling and anxious too but I want to see someone navigating away from that onscreen. My current therapist is trying to coax me back into dating because she views it as part of healing. I’m the one that’s bitter and doesn’t want to do it but guess what she’s right. If someone has desire for intimacy, they should have it, even if it’s messy and not at the “right time” and even on a show that’s not a romance. Carmy deserves healing. And if part of that is oh horror, having a crush, a date, maybe some sex, so be it. I don’t even ship him with this girl but I’m excited to see it. I want to see Carmy explore this part of himself because he’s a person and he obviously cares about it, and I think he deserves all the things. 

[linkspooky]

Do you have/like any ships from Jujutsu Kaisen?

My favorite ships in Jujutsu Kaisen are what I call the three generations of Yin / Yang pairings that the story sets up to parallel one another. 

Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto 

The two of them are set up as a pair of “complementary opposites”. One of the first thing they do in the flashback arc is see them get into an argument. Gojo believes that the strong should not have to cater to the weak, while Suguru believes that the strong are responsible for protecting the weak. Their most fundamental beliefs that drive them are in conflict with one another, and yet they are each other’s closest and only friends. 

Geto gets Gojo and pays attention to him like no one else, noticing when he may be tiring and wearing himself out, while everyone else regards him as the strongest. Gojo also for his best returns that point. Outside of their ideals, they care for each other as people, and it’s their ideals specifically that drive them apart. 

I refer to these as Yin / Yang pairings, because Gojo and Geto also despite being opposites, carry a little bit of each other in the other. The idea of the Yin and Yang is opposite, but interconnected forces. The symbol itself (ie. the Taijitu symbol) shows a balance between two opposites with a portion of the opposite element in each section. The most interesting aspect of these two is how despite being eventual enemies how interconnected they are. In some ways, Geto and Gojo sort of flip because of their relationship with each other.

At the end of the Hidden Inventory Arc, it is now Gojo who is arguing that they strong need to protect innocent people, because of Geto reaching out to Gojo and telling him not to massacre the cult immediately in the aftermath of death because that would not have any meaning, while Geto is arguing that Sorcerers should rule, because they are stronger and have no obligation to continually sacrifice themselves to protect the weaker people with no cursed energy. Even when they are enemies, they are still connected. 

Maki Zenin x Yuta Okkotsu

Arguably, in the upperclassmen it’s Yuta and Maki who parallel Gojo and Geto the most. They also have the most dynamic interaction with each other, in that they both bring out a change in the other as a result of their meeting. Yuta would not have made any progress in zero, if Maki had not been the first person to challenge him and tell him to stop acting like a villain. At the same time, Yuta because of his inherent softness was able to express his admiration for Maki, someone who has been demonized her entire life. 

They are another pair of complementary opposites, but rather than Gojo and Geto who oppose each others on ideals of justice, Yuta and Maki are opposites in regard to love. Yuta does everything he does for the sake of his loved ones and keeping them close. He even screamed that at Geto as the reason he was fighting against them.

Maki growing up unloved by everyone in the Zenin clan except Mai, prioritizes her pride and strength above everything else. Unlike Yuta who wants people to remain close, Maki deliberately pushes people away and pursues strength, following down Toji’s exact same path as becoming the next sorcerer killer. 

These two are also set up as opposites in many ways as the plot, Yuta is labeled a prodigy, whereas right now over and over again Maki has been referred to as a demon. They are both people who have lost the person who loved them in their childhood, Rika for Yuta and Mai for Maki, and they are now wielding whatever remains of that person as a weapon. Yuta is still fighting to protect the people closest to him, but his opponent in the culling game tells him that someone as loved as Yuta couldn’t understand those who haven’t been loved, and also someone like Yuta could never reach Sukuna’s level because he has too much humanity in him and Sukuna is like calamity, while we don’t know what Maki is fighting for right now and she seesm to becoming more and more like a pure force of strength. There’s just so much that can come from their confrontation.

Itadori Yuji x Megumi Fushigoro 

The final pair of parallels, but once again the way they contradict each other is on an entirely different matter. Yuji is someone who wants to save everyone indsicriminately no matter who they are. Whereas, Megumi wants to selfishly pick and choose who he gets to save. 

This conflict begins from Megumi’s very first action in the manga, choosing to save Yuji after he ate the Sukuna finger, rather than kill him, even if that action puts more people at risk. The relationship between Megumi and Yuji is deeply interwoven into the text of the manga itself. Their actions impact each other’s development. 

BECAUSE Megumi chose to save Yuji rather than executing him, Yuta later goes onto let Sukuna rampage in Shibuya. Which made Yuji’s original goal of eating all the fingers, and then sacrificing himself seem a lot less heroic now that the same innocent people he was trying to nobly sacrifice himself to protect have died.  ON THE FLIP SIDE, Megumi is now dealing with a very suicidal Yuji riddled with survival’s guilt, who is leaping at the chance to die for a greater cause. Megumi’s decision to “save people selfishly” is putting him at direct odds with Yuji who he has chosen to save, because Yuji a very selfless person can’t put his life above others, especially the people he’s hurt now. 

Yuji has as recently as the latest chapter, offered to die to Angel to let Gojo out of the box because he is just so desperate for SOMETHING to do to make up for letting Sukuna out in Shibuya, while Megumi himself is DESPERATELY trying to keep the people who are still close to him (totalling Yuji, and Tsumiki at this point) safe. Despite the fact that they are such great friends, they still fall into conflict, and that conflict is what makes the ship interesting. 

[astridthevalkyrie]

chand ko chakor dekhe, tujkho naseebo wala (the bird looks at the moon, a lucky one looks at you) | hawks x reader | chapter 4

“You’ve died twice? From clocks? “I know you’re not blind to the rocks and debris flying literally everywhere! The world would be better off without you in it!” you scream at the villain. The machine is even louder as it breaks and jams into the ground. “Flying building pieces or something, I don’t know—one hit me yesterday. The first day I got knocked into a wall, and then I woke up hugging my body pillow. Same thing the next day. And the next, and the next. Did my number three pro hero partner save me? No, he let me get stuck in a fucking time loop!” Or, you’ll do a lot of things with infinite time on your hands, but falling in love with Keigo Takami isn’t one of them.

a/n: wow i really like this chapter

warnings: reader tells hawks to kill himself nonseriously, lots of murder and death and different ways of doing it, blood, reader is technically a serial killer now, nudity again

1 | 2 | 3

KILL GANG ORCA. KILL GANG ORCA. KILL GANG ORCA.

“He killed you?” Hawks asks, in the exact same tone, with the exact same concerned expression.

“Yes! Three times!” You hold up three fingers on each hand, so it looks like six, but if this doesn’t permeate the birdbrain’s skull nothing else will. “Three times he has put me into the ground!”

He places his hands over both of yours, placing them down in a single placating motion. “Have you considered you deserved it?”

“Whose side are you on?” you question accusingly, narrowing your eyes.

“On, undeniably Gang Orca’s.” He has that Hawks-esque grin on his face that you want to smack off and package and sell to his fans like gamer girl bath water. “He’s the victim here, it’s just that he’s a successful victim.”

“Yes, and I’m an unsuccessful perpetrator!”

No sympathy. No sympathy at all. Tell me everyday Nightingale I’ll help you Nightingale I loooove you Nightingale your ass. If you can’t count on your partner best friend Birdbrain-in-Chief, then who else is supposed to help you commit these murders? Tomura Shigaraki? Do you have him on speed dial? No. Does he know you? No. Do you think that the fake-hand-over-face thing is kinda hot? Not publicly. Have your lost your train of thought? Yes.

It’s not your fault. Today, Hawks has brought you to a karaoke bar of all places, and someone is finishing an admittedly good cover of California Gurls whydidn’tkatyjustspellitgirlswithani so you can barely hear yourself over the hot sun kissed skin that will melt all the popsicles. 

“And next up, we have pro hero Nightingale!” the announcer announces (no shit), pointing towards you.

“We do?” you respond, brows pinched, wondering how much you’ve started to lose track of things already until you see Hawks holding in his laughter. “Did you sign me up?”

“Uh huh.”

A growl rumbles low in your throat. “Which song?”

“And our beloved hero will be performing a very well known song called Poker Face!”

“Kill yourself,” you hiss at Hawks, standing up. He has tears in his eyes.

Still, he’s the only one who claps after your sour but still sexy performance, in which you don’t look at the words on the screen because you could sing them in your coffin, and you end up adding a few boom and crash noises with your mouth because the song doesn’t feel right without them. It goes a little something like oh whoa oh oh SHKKK oh oh oh I’ll get him hot CHGGGGGGRRRRR show him what I got THCCCK oh whoa oh oh.

“Beautiful,” your partner comments when you finish, wiping a fake tear. You’ll give him real tears soon enough.

“Let’s see you like it when you get stuck in a time loop. I’ll make you listen to Judas five million times an hour and then I’ll have you write a dissertation on the history and etymology of every lyric and then I’ll print the song out and choke you with the paper.”

Hawks nods, lips pursed in extreme interest, with his chin in his hand. MURDER.

“I still have no idea how to kill Gang Orca.”

“Creative juices not flowing after that song and dance routine?”

“No. Just more of an eagerness to kill the number ten hero, so then I can get to number nine, then eight, seven, six, five, four, and would you look at that? Three!”

One would think just the prospect of his own murder would make Hawks falter. But instead his smile turns sweet, and he tilts his head all birdlike. “If it helps, I don’t think you’ll have to try so many times with me. One day will be enough.”

“Yeah?” You cross your arms, not buying it. “You really think I’m that strong?”

“I wouldn’t fight back,” he responds simply, and that tingly sensation that only pops up around him and sometimes Fatgum travels up your stomach and settles in your chest. “If you told me, it wouldn’t matter, and if you didn’t, I’d assume you had a good reason. And yeah,” Hawks shrugs, “I do think you’re that strong.”

Goddammit. That’s like, exactly, the type of motivation you need.

He looks kinda cute when he’s telling you he’ll let you kill him. 

—————————————————

Cleverly, so cleverly, you stay on the ground this time. You think the whale bitch just sees anything hovering in the air as a threat. God knows how many flies and bugs and shit he’s killed. Wait, hang on, you don’t like those either, they fly into your mouth when you’re in the air. 

“Mr. Orca!” You wave, REMAINING AS FRIENDLY AS POSSIBLE OH GOD YOU’RE SO SCARED. “It’s an honor to meet you, I’m a big fan!”

He grunts almost nicely, raising a hand in return. You don’t step away after the compliment. He blinks at you a few times, as though waiting for you to say more.

Jesus, where’s the man’s mouth and where does it meet his neck?

Whatever. Not your problem.

Maintaining eye contact with him, your fingers subtly activate Gust, but this time, you focus all your energy under him instead of you. By the time Gang Orca feels the lightness, he’s already up in the air. With wide eyes (just scleras, really), his arm lunges for you, but there’s no point jumping when one is already in the air, loser!

As soon as he’s out of reach, you increase the wind pressure, and send him up, up, up, following when he looks like an ant floating above. Someone is screaming, and you so don’t care. You’re just glad no other heroes are around. 

With a snap of your fingers, you turn aerial off under him, and send him plummeting.

But that’s not enough. Not after three whole extremely painful deaths. 

He’s still conscious when you fly above him, reeling your hand back. “I really am a big fan,” you confess, balling up your fist, “and, uh, sorry, I guess.”

Then you turn Aerial on again and knock him rocketing towards the ground as fast as you can.

His body doesn’t crack as loudly as you thought it would, but a tremor still travels up your arm, making it shake as you land on top of him. It’s painful, even though you didn’t have to lay a single finger on him. 

Blood pools under his head, trickling out so fast it quickly becomes a puddle.

You just killed someone. 

Shit. This is just a bit more heavy than you anticipated.

The sirens of the police cars reach your ears first, and after seeing you staring in such a dazed state staring at Gang Orca’s body, one would think they would know you’ll come without a fight. But you know the curse better than that, and you raise your arms and face them, bracing yourself.

But as bullet after bullet rains upon your body, a thrill goes through you anyway, because finally. Finally, you killed the stupid hero. Finally, you made it to 4:24 PM.  Finally, something different, besides total nihilism. Even giving up isn’t satisfying.

So you whoop as you’re shot, hoping you traumatize everyone who sees. 

—————————————————

“Should I buy him a beer?” Hawks muses when you regale him with your victory. “Can whales even drink beer?”

You put your hands on your hips. Leave it to a pro hero to be more concerned for a man who isn’t even dead in this life than for you who had to die three times and remember it before you were able to kill him. “Can birds?”

“Ouch.” He clutches his chest, pretending he’s shot against the wall. “KO’ed, Nightingale!”

What a loser. 

—————————————————

Ryukyu bites you in half during your first attempt at killing her. Like. A. Magic trick. 

—————————————————

It’s not as easy to fight with wind when Ryukyu can also fly and ALSO is a whole dragon? As if this isn’t hard enough? Her wings beat hard enough to counteract any air bursts you throw at her.

She attempts to reason with you at every single attempt, and where Gang Orca probably hadn’t even recognized you, you’ve met and worked with Ryukyu several times. 

“Nightingale!” she cries, beautiful even in dragon form, “stop this! What’s happened? Talk to me, I can help!”

Please, this isn’t you. That’s the argument she always falls back on. Meaning she would really not be happy to fight you if you actually went rogue. You know she’s one of the kinder pros, but this is a bit much. Especially for someone who’s been actively kicking your ass for a week straight.

“This isn’t personal!” The two of you have flown up so high that it’s actually a little hard to breathe. Her voice is less shaky than yours, but you still sense a tremor, meaning the thinning air has an effect on her too. “It’s just, you know, fun!”

“FUN?” she roars, and oh great, now you have an angry overgrown lizard on your hands.

At the very least, since you’re not a whole different species, your body moves much more gracefully and much quicker than her’s, so you can go down and rise up faster. You discovered this after trying to do the hand on snout thing like the kid from that movie, the one who loses his leg at the end. She didn’t appreciate it even when you brought a dead fish to offer her.

Sucking in your breath, you jet yourself up, with her biting at your heels. Every inch you get closer to the clouds, the more lightheaded you get, and the more you physically feel yourself leave the upper atmosphere. You’d only ever tried this once as a kid, and regretted it severely when you were left with a headache that didn’t go away for days.

This time, you don’t really care about that. Shoving enough wind, and by proxy oxygen, into your throat, you force yourself to go faster still, until the sky goes from blue to black. 

By the time Ryukyu halts, it’s too late. You force her up, and watch with a mildly apologetic expression as the final breath leaves her lungs.

You’re. A bad person. Just to alleviate the guilt, you open your mouth and try to breathe in space.

—————————————————

“JudA Juda AH AH! JudA Juda AH AH!”

“Give it up for Hawks!” you yell cheerily to the horrified crowd. “He somehow managed to sing and dance terribly! We’ll be here all night, folks!”

(You’re not. At 4:14 PM, someone gets so sick of Hawks’ weird ass hip thrust dancing and your screeching that they actually take one of the centerpieces and bash you over the head with it while you’re taking a champagne break. As you bleed out, you hear them try and go for him next. Yes, random stranger! Avenge your destroyed eardrums!)

—————————————————

WhateventheflippingfuckisYoroiMusha’squirk. You kill him, first try.

—————————————————

Crust is hard. It doesn’t take you more than two tries, but both battles are ridiculously long. 

Half because he keeps THROWING SHIT AT YOU and half because he keeps monologuing your ears off about shameful behavior from a hero! and you scream back is that what you’re worried about right now? and he says yes! and you say oh okay sorry to bother but you do keep trying to kill him.

Right now you’re in a bubble of sorts, just trying to blow away all the pieces of his crust (get it?) away, but each throw is really precise and a lot of them break through your own shield and cut your skin. You should be used to getting hurt by now, but it’s not like you’re immune. It still stings like a bitch. 

As you circle him in the air, he sends flying discs, one after the other, trying to knock you down. It reminds you a little of the clock bitch, which doesn’t help your mood and resolve to murder.

There’s a crowd of people watching for this one. You put on a show. “Wasn’t she with Hawks just this morning?” someone shouts. You were! Didn’t you look cute? The cutest in the world? 

Technically you could kill Crust the same way you killed Gang Orca, but you’re trying your best to be original. And after searching up stuff that definitely had the HPSC monitoring you closely but not close enough muwahahaha, you had some ideas. Some that are a bit easy with a hero who’s so focused on virtue signaling at you.

“I think I’ll go and attack someone else now!” you inform him, turning on your heel and zipping away. There’s alarmed screams all over, but none louder than his as he chases after you. 

“Stop! Stop in the name of justice!”

“I’m not stopping but I’m especially not stopping in the name of justice!”

“In the name of love, then! How do you think Hawks would—”

A truck rams into him, exactly as you planned. He’d been so focused on getting to you that he had actually ignored you leading him out onto the road (it’s not by any means easy to kill these pros, but they’re a little more stupid than they ought to be, it’s only slightly concerning). 

And what had he been about to say? How would Hawks react? Something about love? You’re sure he’ll love it when he picks up your phone call and you tell him that you’d like a boba before you see to your prison sentence and that you expect a five star delivery service from the fastest man in Japan. Lifetime, you’re sure, if they don’t shoot on sight again.

—————————————————

Throwing one of the clocks back at Clocksucker, you stick your tongue out, waggling your fingers by your ears. “Hey, have you noticed?” Hawks knocks (ha, rhyme) him down, catching the next clock you throw. “I’m looking left right now. Does that make you think of anything?”

The hero’s eyes narrow immediately, and you have no idea how he catches on so fast on the days you haven’t even told him yet. “Nope. Is it supposed to?”

“I’m repeating the same day over and over and depending on which way I look you ask me different questions and I’m trying to figure out why and you never tell me, so please please please please—”

“You’re repeating what—?”

—————————————————

You’re so close to giving up when it comes to Edgeshot. 

Is the searing—SEARING!—pain of a single sharp point through either your stomach, head, or throat really worth the mild joy you will get when you get to see him lifeless?

He takes the longest. A whole month before you have a single shred of luck.

Unfortunately, it means you won’t be using your quirk. And you’re going to be a little more manipulative than usual.

“Help me! I’m dying!” Rolling around on the ground like a madwoman, you let the grass dirty your cheeks with stains, making you look even more ill. You’re not sure which illness you can appropriate without being canceled, but then you remember that it’s not like anyone will demand a ukulele apology out of you, they’ll just forget. 

“Stand back!” Oh, his voice is sexy. That’s been the best part of this month.

Edgeshot kneels down besides you, one hand seeking your heartbeat in a practiced manner. “Nightingale,” he recognizes, and the thought of his incoming doom makes you shiver pleasantly. “Tell me how I can help.”

“Edgeshot,” you whisper, with fluttering eyes. “I…I…”

The theatrics are technically unnecessary. They don’t add anything when you unsheath the dagger in your cloak and stab him through the heart. Eye for an eye, ninja man. 

—————————————————

“Hey, answer me one thing.” Hawks pokes your cheek with his index finger. “Your quirk. You technically control oxygen too, right? Because the particles mix?”

“Uh huh.”

“So instead of losing so many times, why don’t you just, you know…” He points to his throat, miming pulling something out of his throat. It makes you think of how goofy of a circus performer he would be. He’d probably be a juggler, if anything. Hawks looks like he’s good with balls. 

Back to the point. “Cut off their oxygen? Yeah, I know. I could do it if I wanted to. I made a pact to myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t, though. I haven’t gotten desperate enough to break it yet. Let’s see how long that lasts when I get to the top three.”

“You might need it for All Might,” he teases, nudging your shoulder, “but you won’t need it for me.”

Birdie just never stops when he’s grinding, does he? It’s okay to take a break from making you somehow experience a different emotion on a day that you have lived countless times. What a workaholic. Go on vacation. Fool.

—————————————————

The first time you try to kill Jeanist, he chokes you with your own hero outfit. 

Kinky. You always knew he was a little freak. 

—————————————————

The next time he sees you, he does only blink once, but it’s still a major victory as far as you’re concerned. 

Because you get to see ladies and gents’ man Best Jeanist stutter in his movements when he takes in your naked body.

“Yeah, weren’t expecting that, were you?” Your jeering is interrupted by a flurry of threads headed your way, but you blow them all back. “Gave you pause, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he replies calmly, not faltering. The threads circle you, almost crushing you until you fly above them, barely missing your skin being whipped like it’s done something naughty. “You’re…Nightingale, right? Why are you doing this?”

Ugh, you’re so not in the mood to be Ryukyu’d. Not that you ever are in the mood. You don’t even bother answering the question, instead choosing to focus on the way he has fibers in every which way, creating a maze that will undoubtedly trap you. Best Jeanist is known for his strategy, not his speed or his brute strength. Fighting him is like playing a game of chess.

Well. You’re a checkers master.

Copying Edgeshot’s moves, you swerve through the threads, dipping under and over them, knowing that he won’t send too many at once because that would be like sacrificing the queen or some shit. Is that when someone’s at checkmate? Fuck if you know, man.

“Does Hawks know about this?”

“Who cares?” The final burst of wind is not for the threads, but for him, and you successfully slam Jeanist into the wall. “He’s next, anyways.”

“Lover’s spat,” is the last thing Best Jeanist says that day, because you smash his head in.  With wind, with your fists, you can’t even tell the difference anymore. You can feel your sanity drained, with each further punch and crack and splurt of blood that coats your knuckles and your stomach and even your breasts.

“Fuckin’—” You finally pull back, cursing a plethora before settling onto the ground, breathing heavily. “Lover’s spat…s’though I wasn’t about to kill you, denimhead. What a—what a stupid thing to say…”

You’re not even angry. Just slightly annoyed and slightly apprehensive. What does Best Jeanist know that you don’t? No, no. Sometimes people kill their partners (and others) because they’re going through a time loop that has cracked their psyche in an alarmingly short period of time, God, not everything is about romance!

—————————————————

No karaoke bar today. Maybe Hawks is feeling introspective, or maybe you’re tired, not just emotionally, but physically. Your muscles are strained, even though your injuries don’t carry over from the previous day. Something hurts. You don’t know what it is, but whatever it has the two of you back on top of the bridge, sitting side by side. 

Your eyes feel droopy as you rest your head on his shoulder. When is the last time you’ve slept? It’s just wake, die, repeat. 

Still, if you fall asleep now, you risk a specially painful death, though there can’t be anything that you haven’t already experienced yet (which you think everyday, but the universe finds new and disturbing ways to torture you).

“Hey,” Hawks murmurs, kissing the top of your head, “it’s 5 PM. You made it.”

Closing your eyes, you turn off aerial. Better the butterflies you experience this way.

Then you lean back, and fall.

Wind roars in your ears as gravity takes you, and your legs flop uselessly, and you know nothing will defeat this. This time, death is calling. It doesn’t need to send you something. You know you need to sleep. You’re just making the curse’s job easier. Maybe it’ll appreciate it and go easy on you tomorrow.

When you open your eyes, Hawks is reaching out for you, wings flapping furiously against each other as he shoots down. With his sunglasses off, his golden eyes gleam so pretty in the pre-sunset light. For a split second, you want him to catch you, and then doze off in his arms, comfortable and safe and protected.

But all you get is a brush of his fingers on yours before your back hits the ground, and you die.

—————————————————

You decide not to kill the number three hero for no real reason, no big deal really, it’s not something you thought about too much, the idea didn’t keep you up at night (3 PM) it didn’t make your stomach twist unpleasantly at all, no man is worth the aggravation that’s ancient history been there done that, besides isn’t it better to conserve your energy into fighting the top two heroes, there’s only logic in this decision, thump thump thump, lalalala you’re not listening, goodbye, see you tomorrow, Hawks.

[jonathananubian]

The Power of Names (SWs oneshot)

It was nice to sit with his brother and have a drink without being interrupted for once.

“Seventeen, how’s your General been treating you?” His brother asked as he sat down with a pint of ne’tra gal.

“Kenobi’s been running himself ragged again. Little di’kut is going to get himself killed.” He groused as he took a swig of his own ale.

Fordo chuckled and slapped him on the back once.

Nearby he could hear the younger generations ‘whispering’ to each other about the two of them. It made sense, they were ‘famous’ after all.

It took maybe three minutes before they were approached by a group of CTs, all of them painfully young looking compared to himself and his brother.

“Um, excuse me, Sirs! We have a question if, if it wouldn’t be imposing?”

17 snorted and Fordo gave him a look. “What’s the question?” For someone who was considered one of the biggest badasses in the GAR his tone was soft and even, almost gentle. The exact opposite of 17′s.

The CTs brightened. “How did you get your names, Sirs? It’s just... we don’t have any and we... well we don’t want to be just numbers anymore.” The kid seemed to recognize his mistake when 17 turned to raise a brow at him and quickly backtracked. “N-not that having a number for a name is a bad thing!”

Fordo let out a chuckle and smiled. “Udesii, vod’ike, you’re fine. He just looks intimidating.” He said with that calm smile that always made 17 want to punch him in the face. “My name was a gift from one of my brothers. He’s marched on now, but as long as I have this name to remember him by he will never be forgotten.”

17 hid his frown with another gulp of ale.

The CTs nodded along to Fordo’s words like it was sage wisdom. Young idiots.

“Wh-what about you, Sir?” The CTs turned their collective gazes towards him but only one of them seemed particularly eager for an answer.

Ah, the kid must not have a name yet, or maybe he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of a name. “When the aiwha-bait gave me my ‘Designation’ they decided that was that, that’s all I’d ever be.” His eyes flashed dangerously as a smug grin crossed his face. “So I’m going to take this name, Alpha-17, and I’m going to make sure they know that it’s mine. That even when I die, kicking and screaming and taking the bastards who did it with me, that no one else will ever fit the designation ‘Alpha-17′ again. Because it belongs to me.”

The looks of awe on their faces made him want to grimace. Honestly, they were far too young and untrained for war.

Fordo took over the conversation from there and 17 barely paid it any attention, lost in his own thoughts. Once the CTs were gone he side-eyed his brother.

“A ‘gift from a brother who’s marched on,’ huh? Odd way to refer to the Prime.”

Fordo gave him an amused grin. “But not completely untrue.”

17 couldn’t really deny that, so he didn’t try.

“...you could use the name he gave you, you know. It won’t make you any lesser if you do.” Fordo said quietly.

17 scoffed. “I’m not using anything that bastard left me.” He bristled.

Fordo reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, a smile crossing his face. “Don’t worry, vod, I know why you don’t. I’ll keep your secret.”

17 was an asshole, that was certainly true. But Fordo knew the truth. He’d loved the Prime just as much, maybe even more since he was one of Jango’s favourites. 

But Names had power, and if 17 sacrificing his name meant that more vode realized that their numbers didn’t have to be a shackle- then he would gladly discard the last gift Jango had given him before his death.

That was just the kind of man he was.

[fandomsoda]

Obligatory SB Ruin first-impressions opinion piece

On its face, I do not like Ruin. It is not satisfying at all and simply opens up more questions in a very, VERY annoying way. And the few character moments I do adore about it are underutilized and short-lived. And that pisses me the HELL off.

Roxy and Cassie’s past and connection feel like an afterthought. It feels like it’s there to bait us, honestly. Like nothing came out of that other than an out-of-nowhere gutwrench scene that feels so cheap in hindsight. And Eclipse, god Eclipse (or as I call them when I don’t want to get canon vs fanon confused- Ruinclipse). Eclipse is great. I adore them, just like everyone else does. But there is not enough of them, not even close. In fact, I would rather have not gotten them at all because how DARE Steelwool make a character they KNEW would be fucking BELOVED and only give them like 3 lines of dialogue? And they’re great. Their voice in particular is fucking incredible. Kellen Goff KNOWS what he’s doing with character voices. But there was like none of them. And that angers me for OBVIOUS FUCKING REASONS.

My biggest gripe with Ruin is that it has things that are really fucking good, but there isn’t ENOUGH.

And don’t even get me started on how the whole mimic thing came out of nowhere and just brings up more questions and complicates things EVEN MORE. And now I am desperately digging for an un-before-discovered ending in feeble hope for SOMETHING, ANYTHING, that even vaguely SEEMS like closure or an actual fucking ENDING.

We have no background for anything, btw. We don’t know how Cassie knows Gregory, we don’t know where she came from, we know NOTHING about her.

This dlc sacrificed half-decent storytelling in favor of scares and gameplay and that is the exact opposite of what it should have tried to do. I consider Ruin a massive fucking step down from Security Breach as someone who loves Security Breach despite its flaws.

Ruin was not exactly boring like most critics I’ve seen claim, but rather the moments of excitement and good HAVE NO PAYOFF.

As it stands right now, I would honestly rather Ruin not have happened.

I will still post about it, and join in fandom hype, but not because of what it is. But rather what I know it could be. I say all of these things out of love. Because I love FNAF and I love SB and I love the direction it took, but god I hate how they have done nothing to enrich it with Ruin. This dlc honestly feels like a big waste of time. They focused on pleasing the gameplay-obsessed haters who wouldn’t have appreciated the dlc no matter what happened and completely forgot what was actually good about the initial game. And that deeply saddens me. I hope things get better. I hope whatever we uncover later gives closure, I hope there are things in the future, but as of right now this was a massive disappointment.

And honestly the bar of my expectations was barely an inch from the ground relative to the base game.

Edit: wow I sound angrier here than I thought I did when it was initially made. I promise I mean all of this in a “it’s so close to being great and I’m frustrated at how far it fell” way and this is not just me screaming “it didn’t meet a quota for the amount of things I like in it”. The lore problems are the biggest issue here (even though FNAF lore was already fucked but it’s never fun to see it get further mangled) it just specifically is extra aggravating how little of the exciting character moments we got if that makes sense.