#my shitty dudes are always in my heart but lets be real

[evanpetersmybf]

All he asked for was you

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Tate loves you too much. He would do anything for you, to keep you by his side, to make you love him forever. He would cross any line to make you his, it doesn't matter how evil it is... But was it really worth it?

Genre: ANGST!! and some smut

Word count: 5,104

Warnings: Obsessive, stalkish and violent behavior, implicit toxic relationship; mentions of weapons, murder, mental health issues, family issues, school shooting; use of Y/N, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v. (i hope i'm not missing any...) NOT PROOFREAD !!

A/N: English isn't my first language!! Sorry if I have some mistakes and if Tate's a bit ooc (i tried to keep him in character as much as i could). I wasn't sure (and still not) if this is good but I spent days writing it, so I had to post it.

A small playlist with songs that inspired me for this: monster by meg and dia, pacify her by melanie martinez, all i want is you by rebzyyx, skyfall by adele, psycho by doko, paparazzi by lady gaga, dark red by steve lacy.

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Tate never believed in love, nor was he a romantic one. 

In fact, he despised it. How could he even believe in that feeling when he never felt loved by his own mother? At least that’s what he pretended.

The blond always had the facade of a tough guy, although he couldn’t fool anyone. Constance knew well he was a sensitive boy. Probably the most crybaby ever to exist… And the most unstable one.

Now he was here. His chest going up and down, breathing shallow and fast. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something or perhaps someone. Some silly tears were rolling down his cheeks while he anxiously fidgeted with a ring on his finger. The clock on the wall continued its tick-tack. The time kept running. His heart kept beating. It was getting late.

He refused to look at the wooden floor. He didn’t want to accept reality. If Tate did that, he would feel like the biggest monster on Earth.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t stay like this.

He had to do something real fast.

Today, 18:40

You were supposed to arrive at 19:00.

But he remained there, next to the corpse of his rival. A bloody ax beside the dead man’s bleeding head.

Whom he thought was his worst enemy, was someone really dear to you.

Well, Tate fervently believed this was something justified. He couldn’t stand that fucking asshole anymore! That scumbag needed to be put back in his place. And Tate only did that. Furthermore, he actually helped him. He took him away from this shitty world. It was a favor.

He had already killed his mother’s boyfriend, so why was he feeling guilty?

Maybe because his victim was special to you. Because his death would hurt you. And Langdon swore to God he would never let anybody or anything hurt you, including himself.

He loved you.

He wanted to be the one to hold your hand forever.

Tate snapped back to the present and frowned. He picked up the weapon, putting it in his backpack. He didn’t even mind cleaning it. Then, he proceeded to knelt right next to the lifeless dude and cleaned the blood surrounding his body; afterwards, he dragged him to the basement and…

19:00

A knock on the door.

You arrived.

“DAMN IT!” 

He left his dead foe lying limp on the cold basement ground and quickly ran upstairs, straight to his room. He also left the backpack there.

Tate spent the last twenty minutes cleaning the mess he made in the living room after he atrociously smashed your friend’s head, forgetting that had poor time to get ready. 

He desperately looked for clean clothes, scrambling the entire closet in search of fresh garments while he cussed at himself, at his mother, at that freaking boy, at the entire world but you.

Finally he found some jeans and a striped shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror after changing and cleaned the tiny drops of blood that stayed on his face and hands. He never realized he left the bloody clothing on the bed.

Another knock.

19:07

Tate opened the door, immediately throwing himself at you and giving you one of the warmest hugs. His demeanor with you was completely different; you were the only creature capable of changing his fucked up mind into something more beautiful, more peaceful. The issue was that it only happened when he was with you, otherwise he would be aggressive and rude as usual.

You got the best of him. 

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, babe…” Voice muffled since his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Tate always did the same thing; clinging onto you like a small koala would.

“Heh, me too, hun!” You spoke with the same soothing voice he adored. Tate giggled and placed a tender kiss on your jawline, then another, and another, and another.

Soon enough, he was peppering kisses all over your neck, making you moan softly. Oh those sounds. He could hear you melting under his touch, his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

He loved making you squirm, making you laugh, making you feel loved.

He was way too sweet.

Only if you knew.

Four weeks before today…

Tate has always had the bad habit of stalking you. Yeah… He wasn’t proud of it. But can you blame him? He’s constantly afraid of you leaving him. He wanted to make sure you never did so… Otherwise he would die. Literally.

Don’t ask how he would die. You already know the answer.

You two were supposed to have a date, albeit you had to cancel your meeting.

And that, of course, made him overthink. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were going to study; he felt betrayed, as if you were rejecting him. And Tate hated and feared rejection to the bone.

“Pretty please? Please, Y/N! I don’t wanna go home early, mom’s gonna be there and-and–”

“Tate, I can’t skip this. I have like, a test every day next week and I must study. I don’t wanna fail. Please, sweetie. I promise I’ll make it up to ya’, mhm?” 

He rolled his eyes and whined, almost throwing a tantrum. He didn’t try to manipulate you on purpose. It came out naturally. “But I need you, Y/N! Why do you always do the same, huh? Am I not that important? Don’t you love me any longer?”

His childish crying continued for a couple of minutes, until it stopped and the blond agreed a deal with you.

You thought he was calm now, but no. How naive.

You went to the library to study as you said… Without noticing he followed you.

Quietly, he got into that maze of books after you and hid behind some shelves.

Tate noticed you sat on an empty table. Thank God. Oh?

Who. Is. He.

A man Tate didn’t know sat next to you. Really close. Too close for Tate’s liking. He tried to think he was a stranger, that he wasn’t going to talk to you… He was wrong.

He clenched his hands into a ball when he saw that idiot talking to you, and the worst part was that you followed suit. It seemed you two were friends or something.

How DARE YOU talk to another man? No, how dare you talk to another HUMAN BEING!?

Tate was insecure 24/7.

If you weren’t there, Tate was falling apart. It was simple.

No Y/N, no happy Tate. Was it too hard to understand?

Three weeks before today…

It was Friday. Tate was impatiently waiting for you outside the campus, hanging a small bouquet of flowers he picked up.

Once he spotted you coming out from the building, he waved his hand and embraced you tightly once you were in front of him. He gave you the adorable present.

“Tate!”

“How did you do? Did you pass your tests? Don’t tell me, I’m sure you did.” Said, grinning from ear to ear. He was away from you for an entire week. How did he survive? He didn’t know, but he was glad to have you with him again. “Tell me about your life in the last days, baby. Please? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!”

There he was, the one and only drama queen Tate Langdon.

You talked about the tests, about how the teachers were being a pain in the ass (which clearly triggered in him the intense desire of hurting them because they stressed you), and… About a guy. The same guy from the library, with whom you spent the entire last week studying. He couldn’t stand it. He saw him as a threat to your relationship, especially since he was an old friend that you met many years ago. 

As the days went by, you gave him more reasons to hate that jerk. Why? Well of course because you spent hours at the library doing homework or studying with him. Or even hanging out with him and other people.

In reality, you went out with him to a museum just once, and then skating with other colleagues. Nothing compared to the time you spent with Tate; in a week, you would hang out with him almost daily, and if you were way too busy, he would go to your place and spend the night there. He was so attached to you to the point he had to see you at least once a day. And that’s why he was so jealous of your friend. Tate couldn’t stand the idea of you sharing your life with someone else who wasn’t him or your family… And he also got jealous of them, but he was handling it.

Two weeks before today.

After Tate’s pleas, you decided to introduce your friend to him.

Probably a big mistake.

The date was really awkward; your friend tried being nice, and Tate acted surprisingly kind. Of course it was odd; usually, he despised all of your friends and treated them badly, yet this time was different. You were stunned, however, you tried to ignore it and instead got happy as he finally accepted a random person as your buddy. 

Still and all, he hated that moron. It didn’t matter how much he tried liking your pal, he was jealous of him. He was getting on his nerves. He denied the fact that you had more love for other people that wasn’t him. Tate desired being your only one. Your number one. Your entire world. Because that’s what you were for him. And he was willing to do whatever to keep you with him.

Tate exchanged numbers with him and meticulously plotted a plan to ascertain he would never talk to you ever again. At first, it came out as a simple “I’m gonna scare the shit outta him”, nonetheless, it turned into a darker idea, very likely involving physical violence.

One week before today…

The last few days, Tate won Peter’s trust. Ah yes. That’s your friend's name. You were glad that he finally opened his warm heart and began to meet more people besides you.

You thought he needed a friend, an empathetic person who could support the blond when you weren’t available, that way he would feel less lonely and depressed.

They went to the cinema, to the arcade, even to a music store. Everything was going according to what he planned.

Eventually, he invited Peter to his place to play chess and other board games on a Sunday afternoon, before you arrived and had a date with Tate due to your anniversary. 

Today, 16:00

Peter and Tate were eating pizza and having a great noon, talking about their lives and random stuff, like school and music. They both enjoyed Nirvana, and since Peter played the guitar, he agreed on teaching your boy how to.

If it weren’t for Tate’s twisted mind, they would’ve been best friends.

The guitarist wasn’t a bad guy. He was a great buddy that really appreciated you and the crybaby, but Langdon had something else in mind.

18:00

The men watched a movie. Tate didn’t even know its name; in fact, he didn’t even pay attention to it. Instead, he was focused on his next actions, plotting them carefully.

“Crap, mom’s gonna arrive soon…” Tate mumbled with annoyance, biting his nails and tapping his foot on the floor. He was lying. You were going to arrive, not Constance.

“Damn, bro. Well, I don’t have a problem. I wanna meet her.”

“Huh? No no no, you shouldn’t. That bitch is crazy.”

Peter scoffed, disagreeing with Tate’s rude manner to call his own momma.

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk like that. I bet she loves you!”

That pissed him off. “You don’t know anything, Peter. Your family is different. Your life’s different. You won’t understand!” He yelled, standing up from the couch and now pacing around the room, trying to keep it calm.

“Dude, calm down!

“NO! I fucking won’t!”

The screaming continued for a while. Tate revealed his unstable and crystal self. Even something so insignificant could drive him to the edge, like what happened today. That definitely surprised the other one, who used to think that Tate was a sweet boy. “I dunno why Y/N is dating you.”

“What did you say?” Tate abruptly stopped pacing.

“Y/N. Y/N doesn’t deserve you.”

“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT!?” He pounced on Peter, gripping his neck with one rough hand, applying enough pressure on the sides to stop the blood circulation in his carotids and make him lose consciousness.

Before passing out, Peter, getting pale, managed to croak out: “Because she deserves better…”

Soon enough, he fainted, giving Tate minutes to think about what else to do. 

Your boyfriend wasn’t planning on murdering Peter today. No, he didn’t have time. He also was supposed to meet you.. But this was the perfect excuse! And not only that; he indirectly admitted he was in love with you! Or that’s what Tate interpreted with his delusional point of view.

Peter didn’t feel anything romantic for you, he was just worried Tate might be too unhinged to be your partner.

Thus, he went to his room and grabbed his backpack. Then, went to the garden shed and picked up the ax that belonged to his father, and a bottle of lye.

He had to get the job done quickly, nevertheless, he lost track of time.

18:30

Tate came back to the living room, just to notice that Peter wasn’t there anymore.

“FUCK IT!” Langdon got nervous. What if he escaped? What if he told you that Tate was crazy? He couldn’t allow this, not at all.

Thankfully, or maybe not, Tate found Peter crawling towards the front door, the poor dude still feeling dizzy after being choked.

Tate didn’t have any mercy.

“Where do you think you’re going, lil’ piece of shit!?”

18:38

Tate finally did it. He brutally murdered Peter, smashing his head several times with the ax.

He got rid of that little issue. He took him to somewhere clean.

Once he assured the other man wasn’t breathing, he dropped the weapon on the floor, making a loud metallic thud.

19:10

Tate was pinning you down on the couch, the same couch where your dead friend was sitting just an hour ago.

His hands were traveling all along your body, tracing sweet patterns on your skin.

Eventually, his fingers were clumsily pulling down your panties, not minding to take off your skirt. “Did you bring this for easy access, baby?” Tate chuckled and buried his face between your legs, holding your thighs in place; his lips plastered messy kisses over the warm flesh, biting it and leaving tiny marks after sucking.

Your reaction was alluring to him; he enjoyed listening to your pleas, to your whimpers. If it was for him, he would spend the entire day making you cum over and over again.

He finally got rid of your underwear, tossing it aside. Without further ado, the boy spread your folds with his large digits, and continued to lick your throbbing wet cunt.

“So fucking pretty… So wet for me, huh?”

His tongue lapped your small clit two or three times, then, traced a zigzag and circles on the sensitive nub. While he devoured you, he inserted his middle and ring finger, pumping them in and out of your cute hole, curling them and hitting the right spot to make you feel butterflies.

Tate could feel his arousal growing; his erection being restrained by the tight fabric of his jeans. He was desperate, yeah. But he always put you in the first place, and that included pleasuring you before him.

After a while, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, fucking your pussy with the agile muscle and now rubbing your clit with his thumb, applying pressure that sent electric waves through your body. He stopped using his tongue on you and instead looked at that stunning face of yours. He was delighted with your flushed cheeks, with every single gesture you did, with the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture of you to remember this moment forever.

His thumb increased the pace, while his free hand lifted up your blouse and tried to undo your bra. He couldn’t. You giggled when he groaned in frustration; he was too horny to think straight and that’s why you helped him to take off the garment.

Tate sighed and after that awkward and funny moment, he kept rubbing your bud, using your own juices and his saliva as a lubricant, intensifying the sensation. His left pinched and pulled your nipple, making you gasp and twitch beneath him, whilst his mouth abused your other one, greedily sucking on it.

“Tate, ‘m gonna cum! I-”

Tate cut you off by kissing you harshly; his tongue invading your warm mouth, exploring it and then nibbling your bottom lip until it bleeded. He licked the tiny drops of blood, savoring the metallic taste of it.

Unable to hold on any longer, you reached your orgasm, coming undone while Tate kept caressing your pussy, decreasing the velocity while you finally calmed down.

He left you panting; your heart beating so fast just like his.

You tried to sit up on the couch, breathing deep for more air, but the blond prevented you from going away.

“Where do you think you’re doing? We’re not done yet, you’re gonna cum again!”

Tate carried you bridal style and went upstairs straight to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed.

Without stopping looking at you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans along the boxers; his dick already erect and throbbing, the veins thick and the tip leaking precum.

Using the clear liquid as lube, he stroked his shaft for a while, jerking off to the sight of you. He groaned and whimpered, closing his eyes as his hand pumped himself.

One of your hands went to your breasts, massaging them softly as your right went down between your legs, slowly teasing your womanhood and coating your index finger with your arousal, using it to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

Tate’s dark room was now filled with both of your moans; Tate calling your name several times and you begging him to fuck you.

He couldn’t stand this anymore. He NEEDED to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him. “On all fours. Now.” You immediately obeyed, feeling as eager as him.

“Look at me, mhm?” He positioned behind you and rubbed the tip against your wet folds, teasing you for a bit. Afterwards, he slowly entered his cock inside your slit, moving it slowly at first. His thumb went to your clitoris, toying with it just like minutes before. He picked up the pace and fucked you fast and hard; his cockhead brushing your cervix. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Tate pulled your head towards him, still with the deep thrusting.  “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so pretty… So fucking precious, so fucking mine!” Moaned against your ear, voice raspy and agitated.

Panting, you stopped looking at him and instead looked to the bed. Why? Who knows, but you did it. And you saw Tate’s dirty clothes. Dirty with blood. A lot of blood.

You froze. Maybe it was red paint? 

“U-uh, Tate?” You muttered, feeling already bewildered by the sight. You tried not to jump into conclusions, although you knew Tate and he has always been… Secretive.. And aggressive, of course. 

After your boyfriend heard your shaky whisper, he stopped moving, even if he wanted to keep going. “Hm?”

“What’s this?” Tate sighed and pulled out from you, not understanding what you meant. 

“What’s what?”

Without saying anything else to him, you grabbed the shirt and touched the weird stain. It was still fresh. You took your fingers to your mouth to taste it; and the metallic tang was too obvious. “Tate, what the fuck is this!?”

You threw it at him. Freaked out, you stood up and picked up your clothes, putting them on again, all meanwhile Tate connected the dots and realized he was probably going to get caught.

“Wait, Y/N! It’s not what it looks like, I swear, damn it!” He yelled and grabbed your arm, not wanting you to leave like this. He had to save his reputation, he couldn’t let you think bad of him even if you had all the right. Because, why the fuck the fabric was soaked in blood?

“Then what is it, Tate? WHY DOES IT HAVE SO MUCH BLOOD!?”

“CALM DOWN, PLEASE!” 

You attempted to get away from his grip, struggling with him until, somehow, you managed to do so. However, you tripped with his dirty shoes and fell, realizing they were also stained with the red liquid. “Tate, what…? Why? What is this?”

“Nothing, I swear!” He didn’t have any excuses. Saying it was paint would’ve been lame. You were too smart and he knew lying wasn’t a good choice.

Feeling overwhelmed with the matter, you went downstairs, walking as fast as you could. Passing through the living room, a very familiar bag caught your eye. It was definitely Peter’s. You decided to grab it and realized it had his phone inside. Something was off.

Tate was standing behind you; fists clenched and heart beating like crazy. He tried to approach you, still thinking about what to do or what to say. 

“Tate… What is this doing here? Peter’s here?” 

“Huh? Yeah… He— He came earlier and had to go soon, he left this accidentally, yup…” You could see him fidgeting with that ring on his finger, again. 

“Bullshit!”

Tate scowled and grabbed your chin, making you look at his dark orbs. “Tell me, Y/N, do you trust me or not, huh? Look me in the eyes and say you don’t!”

The struggle continued for what seemed eternity. You trying to run away from the house and he trying to make you stay. “Please, Y/N, just listen to me!”

“You did something to him, right? I know him, Tate! He would NEVER leave his phone like this! Is this a joke?”

“Why do you care so much about that asshole!? What has he done for you!? Tell me!”

“Oh my, you’re jealous! I knew it! All that crap about being his friend was a lie, right? Tate, you’re being delusional! I can have friends, I can hang out with whoever I want, whether you like it or not!” 

Tate pressed your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, squeezing the flesh with his veiny, big hand, pressing it tightly enough to leave the mark of his long digits on it.

“You can’t! You’re mine. Only mine. Since the day you were born you were meant to be mine. Not his, not anybody, just me.”

“Tate… We should end this…” You thought this was the best for both. Being in a relationship with him was draining; always being careful to not hurt him, make him jealous or mad. He was such a sensitive boy that always took everything too personally. He felt everything a little too much.

Since the beginning you knew he was unstable and that he had many issues, but you tried to see beyond his sick mind, you tried to understand him despite being so different.

Tate felt so safe with you. You were the only person who understood him, or at least made attempts to. 

He felt rejected by the entire society, even by his own mother, until he met you and he had a minimum spark of hope that the world didn’t suck that much.

That’s why he clung to you. That’s why you were his everything. He would lose his mind if you leave him.

He felt like dying when he heard you wanted to finish the relationship.

He couldn’t breathe. 

Some tears were now falling to the floor, his eyes puffy and an ugly frown on his face. His mouth twisted as he sobbed loudly, tugging the hem of your shirt while he begged you to stay. He was crying like a newborn, like a baby who had to be apart from his mother for a second.

“No no no no, you can’t do this to me!” He whimpered, his speech cracking as he tried to hold you close whilst you were stepping back. You were slipping through his fingers, you were leaving him.

“Tate, if something happened to Peter, I will never forgive you! Can’t you see you’re hurting me?”

Tate swore he would never hurt you, nor let anyone. But here he was, finally snapping out of it and seeing the cruel truth. 

“You’ve been hurting me the whole time, Tate! I tried to understand you, I really did, I tried to help you, to save you from yourself! But it’s impossible. I’m losing myself here with you, I don’t even know who I am anymore! You don’t want help, do you? ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what I do, you’re never satisfied! You suffocate me!”

All those words were like daggers penetrating his skin, touching his nerves and making him die of pain. You were tearing him apart, just the way he was destroying you.

He finally let go of you, feeling a tornado of emotions. Tate felt depressed, mad, resentful, like he was going crazy. Though, he knew he had to leave if that’s what you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to break another promise.

Thereby, he confessed his crimes to you. He explained he killed his mom’s partner a few days ago, and that now he had killed your friend. Why? He was jealous, he was scared you’d left him. You did it before you discovered the cruel reality, anyways. That’s why he told you. Because he couldn’t lose anything else.

The situation was utterly disgusting. Tate was sick. He murdered an innocent man and then proceeded to fuck you, as it was the maximum test of love, as if his life meant nothing.

You knew he wasn’t what people often considered “normal”. But this was definitely more than just being a “weirdo”. Tate needed psychiatric help… And being arrested, of course.

“You make me wanna puke, Tate! You’re the evil!”

Without hesitating, you left Tate behind, running as fast as you could from that living hell.

You just wanted to cry, curl up into a ball and wake up from this nightmare. You wished it was merely a bad dream.

Tomorrow morning, you’d go to the police, but for now you needed to sleep.

Monday morning, 11:05

You couldn’t sleep all night. You spent hours thinking about everything, about how this looked like a cruel joke to you. Eventually, you fell asleep at 4AM, and didn’t wake up at what seemed almost midday. 

An intense sound of police sirens woke you from your slumber. Startled by the loud noise, you rubbed your eyes and went to the window, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Police cars and SWAT vans were going in a specific direction… Towards Tate’s street. It couldn’t be, right?

Did his mother find the corpse? Or perhaps something else?

You looked at the clock, realizing it was late and you had to go to class. 

08:00

After the most painful night of his life, Tate decided today everything would be over.

He had to cleanse the world… To take people to somewhere else, to some place full of peace away from the piss and the vomit that runs down the streets.

He was doing this not only because of your breakup, but also because of many other reasons. Your split up was the straw that broke the camel and drove him to the edge.

10:40

 After shooting the school, Tate left the place, looking unfazed about what he just did. He was unhinged. 

He peacefully got into his place, went to his room and stayed there for some minutes. 

The blond sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the gun right next to him and stared at nothing. His gaze was empty, but also there were some tears threatening to spill.

His mind was a whirlwind. Some part of him was satisfied, but the other was confused, wondering what was he thinking, what had he done?

What would you think of him now? Were you even there? Did he kill you too and he didn’t even notice?

In the end, he recognized he indeed was the evil you said. Damn it. You were right, again, as ever.

Tate wanted to hear your voice, to comfort him, to hear you saying everything was okay. That he’d be okay. He desired to hear “I love you” from you once more.

11:15

You went downstairs to find your family apparently mourning you.

They thought you were at school when the shooting happened. They believed you were gone, but here you were. 

Eventually, they explained to you what happened.

The first thing that popped into your mind was Tate’s wellbeing, still unaware that he was the culprit. You were afraid something terrible could’ve happened to him, you were regretting your last words to him, but you also had to get him prisoner.

Your heart dropped when they explained to you he was the shooter.

No, it couldn’t be possible. 

It was possible. After all, he had already killed two men.

Even if you despise what he did, some part of you still longed for him, still was in love with his once kind heart.

A terrifying feeling of dread filled your body, making you feel numb, as if none of this was real… 

11:25

After running to Tate’s house and seeing it surrounded by the cops and the SWAT team, everything stopped. Constance’s distressed cries and pleas were heard from outside, followed suit by the sound of bullets. It was over now.

Tate was certainly a troubled individual who dedicated his entire life to searching for something, to feel something, to feel loved.

All he asked for was love, to be loved, to love. All he wanted was you.

But at the same time, your love led him to an never-ending obsession that ultimately broke both of you.

He became your biggest regret.

All he feared, all his nightmares came true. Everything he was so afraid of was him and only himself. 

[atlafan]

20 & 28 from the prompt list pls!

20. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”

28. “I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking.”

smut prompts

—————————————————————-

“He did what?” Harry’s jaw fell open as his dear friend, Y/N, told him about why she was newly single.

“He accepted a job across the country and expected me to drop everything to go with him! He didn’t even tell me he was looking for other opportunities. I mean, it’s a big step up for him, but to assume I’d quit my own job to go play house with him??? My whole family is here. I’d be sick to my stomach knowing I couldn’t see my nephews as regularly as I do now.” She sighed heavily and looked at her friend. “Can I crash here for a few days? If I go back to my place, I know he’ll show up and try to convince me to go with him again.”

“So, it’s over, just like that?”

“Yup. I’m not sabotaging my own career for a man. We’re clearly on different wave lengths, I guess it’s better to find out now.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Of course you can stay with me. Stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you.” She wraps her arms around his neck and sighs. “You’re such a good friend.”

Harry’s been waiting for Y/N and her boyfriend to break up for ages. He’s not one of those guys who’s only friends with a girl because he wants it to lead to more. That would be shitty of him. But he and Y/N have been friends for a while now, and as years have gone by, he’s started looking at her differently. A tiny crush started to bloom. He noticed how her laugh made him feel and how her smile gave him butterflies. It was gradual, natural. But he wasn’t sure how to bring this up to her, and there was never a good time. She was in a relationship, and he assumed she was happy, so he never let on about his feelings.

But now, Y/N is single. Harry’s not going to pounce on her right away. He knows she’ll need time to grieve the loss of her relationship. He also doesn’t want her to think he’s taking advantage of the vulnerable state she’s in. So, he’ll continue being the good friend that he is, and when the time is right, he’ll tell her how he feels.

//

Y/N was never one to wear her heart on her sleeve. She didn’t cry in public. She wanted people to think she was fine at all times. But after a month or so of being single, she found herself moping around a lot. She thought about her ex all the time. She hated it, but it was hard not to think of him. She wanted to know how his new job was going because she still cared. But then she’d remind herself that he probably doesn’t care how she’s doing, and then she’d distract herself with something to do.

Then, on a random Tuesday, two months later, a mutual friend sent her a message saying her ex was in a new relationship. He was posting her on main, laughing and smiling.

And that’s when Y/N finally cracked. She cried. She cried her eyes out until they were swollen and puffy. She couldn’t sleep when she tried to go to bed, so she texted Harry and asked if she could come over. He said yes.

“I don’t even know why I care.” She groaned as she told him about the ordeal. “How are men able to move on so quickly? I think about him every day. He always crosses my mind. I’m not even doing it on purpose. He probably never thinks about me.”

“He probably thinks about you all the time and started dating again to fill the void. That’s what I would do if I fucked up as badly as he did.”

“You know what bugs me the most? I have confirmation that he’s having sex. Someone else is giving him orgasms when all I’ve had for the last three months are my own hands and my vibrator. I’m too scared to meet some random dude from an app. I’m losing my mind, Harry. I feel like a feral cat in heat.” She chugs some water and takes a deep breath.

“You’re that horny, huh?”

“You have no idea. Masturbating and watching porn is fun and all, don’t get me wrong, but after a while it’s not exactly exciting. Feels like a chore.”

“I’m going to propose something, and I really want you to think about it before you decide it isn’t a good idea.” He runs a hand through his hair. “What if we had sex?”

“We, like, you and I?”

“Yeah.”

“No offense, but the idea of being pity fucked by my friend isn’t exactly getting my panties wet.”

“It’s not a pity fuck. Don’t be mad, but I’ve wanted to have sex with you for a very long time.”

“Great, so you’ve only been friends with me-“

“Don’t even go there because it’s not like that. We’ve been friends for five years. The last two, you were dating that asshole. A crush sort of snuck up on me around the time you and him started dating. I felt weirdly jealous every time you’d blow our friend group off to go be with him. And when I really thought about why, I realized that it was because I liked you as more than a friend.”

“You’ve liked me for two years?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“You were in love with him. I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness. I’m fine if we just stay friends. I want you in my life, I don’t care how.”

“Why didn’t you make a move right after we broke up?”

“Other than not wanting to be your rebound, I knew you just needed a friend. You were vulnerable, I couldn’t take advantage of that.”

“You’d really want to fuck so quickly? Don’t you want to take me out on a date first?”

“You’re not the only one who feels feral, Y/N.”

“I can’t believe how stupid and oblivious I am.” She slides her hands down her face. “You’re a great guy, I’d be lucky to date you. My family already adores you. We practically go on dates all the time as it is.” She facepalms, then looks at him. “You really would fuck me right now?”

“Yes. Do…are you even attracted to me…sexually?”

“Harry, you’re the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen. Of course I’m attracted to you.”

“How would I have known that?! I’m not a mind reader!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, I’m sad!”

“You’ve been sad for three goddamn months.” He steps towards her, backing her up to the sink counter, caging her in. “And I’m over it. I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”

“Oh, wow.” Her eyelids become hooded as she looks at him. “Yes.” She nods. “Please, I want that. I want you to fuck me, Harry.”

“Good. Jump.”

She puts her hands on his shoulders and jumps so she can wrap her legs around his waist. Harry’s mouth crashes to hers as he carries her to his bedroom. Y/N feels lightheaded as he lays her down, staying on top of her. Her fingers squeeze at his hair as she licks into his mouth. He tastes like mint, and it makes her moan. His hands slide up under her shirt, pawing at her breasts over her bra.

“Fuck, just take it off. Take it all off.” She whines, and he smirks down at her.

“Look who’s all eager all of a sudden.” He sits up and takes his own shirt off. Before he can reach for Y/N’s, she’s tackling him down and sponging kisses to his chest. Her tongue glides down over his butterfly tattoo. She inches further down until she’s nosing at his erection over his joggers. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“Don’t care, want it.” She tucks her fingers into the waistband of his joggers and looks up at him. “Can I?”

“Yes.”

He lifts his hips to help her and she gets the garment off. She kisses him over his briefs and licks his tip through the material. She even takes it into her mouth like this, and it rips a moan from Harry’s throat. Her eyes snap to his, completely blown out.

“God, I should have known you were vocal.” She whimpers. She tugs his briefs down and wastes no time getting the head of Harry’s cock into her mouth. She runs her tongue over his slit and suckles on the blurts of precome oozing out. She wraps her hand around him and slides her mouth off. “Jesus, you’re so big. I’m gonna see if I can get it down my throat.”

“You don’t have to, what you did before felt great.” He runs a hand through her hair and whimpers again.

“No, I want to choke on it. I really like giving head.”

“That’s something we have in common.” He smirks.

She spits onto his tip and takes him back into her mouth. She doesn’t go slow, she goes down fast and chokes, then pulls off, spitting on him to make it wet and messy, then she repeats. She does it until her throat can handle keeping him there for a moment. She swallows around him a few times before coming off and pumping him with her hand.

“Do you want to come in my mouth?”

“Are you gonna be a good girl and swallow it?”

“Fuck, and you’re kinky?! Should’ve done this a long time ago, Harry.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I’ll swallow it.”

“Then go on and take it.”

She’s not pretty about it. She chokes and gags and sucks and bobs until Harry’s spurting rope after rope down her throat. He sits up after she pulls off and slots his mouth over hers. He grips the hem of her short and lifts it off. She unhooks her bra and lays back on the bed. Her back arches the second Harry’s tongue is circling her nipple.

“Best tits I’ve ever fucking seen.” He growls as he works his way to her other nipple. “So big and soft.”

“You don’t mind that they’re not all perky?”

“Why would I? A boob is a boob is a boob.” He sucks a good amount of one into his mouth, leaving marks from his teeth on her sensitive skin. He kisses down her stomach and hooks his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes.” She smiles softly. “And my panties too, please. I don’t like the feeling of sitting in my cold, wetness.”

“Heard.” He pulls both of the garments off and tosses them to the floor before splitting her thighs open. She’s glistening for him. He wells up some spit and watches it fall on and down her slit. “So fucking pretty.”

He spreads her lips apart, running his fingers through her sticky folds. His thumbs spread apart the top so he can find her clit. He taps on it with his finger, making her gasp.

“Did I find it, baby?” It’s rhetorical because before she can answer, his licking over it.

He wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, rapidly. He flicks the tip of his tongue over it, swirls it around, spits on it, then goes back to sucking. The sounds are wet and obscene. Y/N has a hand stuffed in his hair while the other clutches at the sheets. She moans out when she feels his middle finger sink inside her.

“So fucking tight.” He groans.

“I can take another, please, wanna feel you stretch me out.”

Harry grins and lets his ring finger join the middle. He works them in and out of her, wanting to prep her hole for what’s to come. Then he lets them stay deep inside and curls them to her front wall as he shallowly thrusts in and out. He gets his mouth back on her clit and uses his free hand to keep her thigh down and open.

“Fuck, just like that.” Her head rolls back and her mouth hangs open as she rolls her hips forward to meet his thrusts. “Harry, shit, you’re so good. Don’t stop.” Her toes start curling and her legs start shaking, and Harry laughs so sinisterly low that it makes her head dizzy. One of her heels digs into his shoulder blade. She’s panting and moaning and writing under him. “Oh, oh fuck.” She feels the coil deep in her belly about to snap. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come, don’t stop.” The bed starts creaking and the headboard starts thudding against the wall. Harry’s rutting his hips into the mattress and moaning into her. “Harry, Harry, Harryyyyyy, fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Her back arches off the bed as she lets go. Harry fucks her through it, keeping his fingers deep inside her. He gives her throbbing clit a break, then slowly takes his fingers out when he hears her breathing evening out.

He sucks his fingers into his mouth, and his surprised when Y/N grips his jaw to pull him down to her. He takes his fingers out and replaces them with her mouth. They moan against each other, both relishing in the filthy kiss.

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks.

“Are you hard again?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s some good stamina.” She smirks.

“Eating you out made me hard again. Taste so fucking good.” He reaches into his side table drawer and pulls out a foil packet. He sits back on his feet and rips it open to roll onto his cock.

“Do you mind if I play the role of a pillow princess? Kind of want you to just do what you want with me.”

“Yeah? Does being used turn you on?”

“Like this…by you…it does.”

“This might hurt a little since it’s been a while for you. If you need me to stop, just tell me and I will.”

“Okay.”

Harry lines himself up and slowly pushes inside. Y/N bites into his shoulder. The stretch burns, but the pain soon turns to pleasure once he’s all the way in. His tip is already nudging into her g-spot.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you. You can move.”

He pulls out about halfway before thrusting back in. Y/N is so sweet for him, he slips out a couple of times before he can get a rhythm going. He sits up and throws her legs over his shoulders, pounding into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. She raises her hips and starts moaning uncontrollably. The angle is perfect. He thumbs at her clit, and her nails dig into the meat of his thighs.

“I’m getting close.” She twitches under him, wanting to close her legs to get some relief, but she can’t. “Please, don’t stop.” She whimpers up at him. “Feels so good.”

“Love watching you take it.” He grunts. “We fit so perfectly, your pussy was made for me.”

“Oh, fuck!” Apparently, that’s all she needed in order to come. She drenches his cock, which surprises the both of them. “Oh my god!” She cries out, a second wave of pleasure washing over her. It’s like the never ending orgasm. “Please tell me I didn’t just pee on you.” She sits up on her elbows and is mortified by the wet spot between them. “I had all that water beforehand-“

“You didn’t pee, Y/N.” Harry chuckles. “You just squirted a little. Well, a lot, but you know what I mean.”

“I’ve never done that before.” She blinks.

“Poor thing.” He pouts down at her. “Didn’t it feel so good to get a release like that?” He places his hands on the back of her thighs and pushes them down until her knees are on either side of her head. “Hm?”

“Yes, felt amazing.”

“I’ll make you do it again, baby, don’t worry. Gonna give it to you like you deserve. Hold your legs there for me.” He grips her hips and starts moving her on and off his cock. He watches as her eyes roll back and he laughs lowly. “Feel good?”

“Soooo good, oh my god.”

His fingers comes together and he slaps her clit, over and over and over until she’s panting and crying out and making a mess. He pulls out to move her onto her side. She sighs contently, happy to give her legs a break. But it’s not long until Harry is putting one of her legs over his shoulder and sliding back in, fucking her from the side.

“Christ, can feel you in my guts.”

“M’not hitting your cervix right? It still feels good?”

“Feels amazing, keep going.”

“Rub your clit. I wanna come at the same time.”

She slides her hand down and touches herself. She could honestly come from the sound of Harry moaning alone, but his cock beating into her g-spot is also a big help. She screams his name as she comes, making another mess. Harry grunts and whimpers and moans as he fills the condom.

He waits until they’ve both caught their breaths to pull out. Y/N rolls onto her back while Harry throws the condom away. The bed creaks as he lays back down next to her. Her lower half twitches every so often, her thighs still quivering.

“I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking.” He turns onto his side and draws shapes into her belly.

“Shut up.” She breathes. “I can’t even feel them.”

“You should really come with me to Pilates more often.”

“Who needs Pilates when you’re going to be fucking me like that regularly?” She turns her head to the side to look at him.

“Oh, am I going to be fucking you regularly? I didn’t get that memo.” He smirks.

“Yes, generally, when two people start dating, they fuck regularly.”

“Are you serious?” He sits up, hope painted all over his face. “You can really see us being a romantic couple?”

“Yeah.” She smiles up at him and caresses his cheek. “I’d really like to give this a shot.”

“Oh, Y/N, that makes me so happy.” He moves to lay on top of her and buries his face in her neck. She holds him to her chest, content with having his weight on her.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being you.”

He moves to look at her and pecks her lips. “You’re welcome.”

[turcott3]

first strike

mark estapa x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, one kiss, fluff

masterlist

-

you sat anxiously at your vanity, teasing and touching your hair every minute until the hockey player texted you that he was in your driveway. when your phone lit up with the text your heart sank into your stomach.

“this is gonna be good.” you said to yourself, grabbing you wallet and heading out the front door. you opened the car door and got settled while you were greeted by the smiling brunette.

“you look great.” he smiles at you.

“thank you mark, you too.” you replied, his smile warming your heart. you and mark had been texting for a while. flirting, small talk, the whole shabang, but the two of you had never once hung out in real life, at least not alone. you’ve liked the boy for months and you’re finally on your first date with him.

“just so you know, i’m a great bowler.” he says, sparking an idea in your head. you had always loved to bowl with your family, and even won tournaments with them, so what if you could get this going a little quicker?

“oh i wish i was, i honestly suck.” you confess, totally lying out of your ass.

“hey no worries, i got you.” he says, ego booming through the roof of the car. the rest of the short drive was filled with your usual conversations, nothing out of the normal. you two walk into the bowling alley and make your way over to the counter.

“what’s your shoe size?” the woman asks the two of you.

“13 and she’s a?”

“6.” you smile.

“perfect, now let me ring you in,” she pauses, “your total is 24 even, are you splitting it?”

“no maam, im paying for it.” mark speaks up causing you to blush.

“thank you.” you whisper to him, his only reply being a smile. once you get to your lane you grab a 7 pound ball and he grabs a 12 pound.

“oh big and strong are we?” you laugh.

“what? oh this ball? if i had a 7 pound it would end up in the ceiling.” he laughs.

“woah okay mr macho.” you reply, giggling.

“okay i’m putting you as first, let me see what i’m working with here.” he says backing away and watching you bowl, purposefully shitty of course, but he has no idea. miraculously, you hit the two pins in the end.

“how’d i do?” you ask and he laughs.

“let me help you.” he says handing you the ball once it returned. you pick it up and you walk over to the lane, mark standing flush against your back. he grabs onto your wrist and lands his other hand on your waist.

“okay now bend your knees and lean forward. and don’t throw the ball, push it.” he say and you move together, picking up a spare.

“oh my gosh.” you say jumping and turning around as he smiles brightly at you.

“see it’s not so hard.” he says as you go sit down for his turn. he knocks 9 pins.

“damn look who’s winning.” you laugh and pick up your ball. it was show time. you walk up to the lane and send the ball effortlessly down the lane, knocking over 6 pins.

“see, i knew you could do it.”

“first to get a strike gets what?”

“a kiss.” he raises his brow.

“deal.” you reply and your heart sinks into your stomach. you couldn’t lie and say being around him didn’t make you nervous. a good nervous of course. you send the ball one more time hitting 2 more pins.

“your turn hot stuff.” you say patting him on the back.

“hot stuff?” he asks.

“mark im not blind, now go.” you laugh. much to your surprise he gets two gutter balls.

“you threw me off my game y/n.” he laughs sitting down next to you.

“i did no such thing.” you say getting up for your turn. as much as you wanted a strike, the idea made you nervous. you took a deep breath before walking up to the lane and sending the ball as fast as you could, knocking over all 10 pins. you turn around with wide eyes and jump for joy as he stands up and walks over to you, opening his arms to hug you.

“that was fucking awesome dude.” he says putting you down.

“it was pretty epic.” you laugh. once you’ve come back down you lock eyes with the tall boy.

“i was the first strike.” you say looking down at your feet.

“yep.” he replies, the building now feeling empty like it was no one but you two.

“hey look at me.” he says lifting your chin delicately with his hand.

“sorry i’m nervous.”

“why are you nervous?” he asks gently running his fingers down my arm.

“because you’re you. you’re tall, handsome….. let me not inflate your ego too much.” you laugh nervously.

“and you’re beautiful, smart, kind. i’ll inflate your ego any day.” he smiles, which you return as he finally closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours. your stomach filled with butterflies as you melted into the feeling of his hands around your waist onto the small of your back. once you separate all you can do is smile at him.

“let’s finish this game yeah?” he says.

“yeah.” you say quietly. you go sit down in your seat, over the moon about what just happened, realizing you’re gonna have to tell him you lied about being a bad bowler sooner or later. once you finished the game that you had barely won, you exit the bowling alley and walk back out to his car.

“mark, i have to tell you something.” you say.

“what’s up? everything alright?” he asks buckling his seatbelt.

“oh yes of course. i just had to tell you that i lied about being a bad bowler,” you sigh.

“why?”

“because i wanted you to show me how to bowl, i wanted to get the ball rolling, figuratively, between you and i.” you say embarrassing yourself, “i also didn’t wanna hurt your ego too quickly.”

“y/n it’s okay, you’ve hurt my ego a tiny bit now, but i like you anyway. i was fully planning on kissing you regardless of if you were good at bowling or not. at least you getting the first strike makes way more sense now.” he laughs, reassuring you.

“thank you mark, i like you too….. and i have for a while honestly, and besides all that, you’re a good bowling teacher.”

“am i actually?”

“yes, you did perfectly.” you laugh.

“ego has been boosted again.” he states, placing his hand lightly on your leg as you pulled out of the parking lot. once you arrive back at your house he pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park.

“thank you for tonight.” he says turning toward you.

“you too, i had so much fun.” you smile.

“see you tomorrow? lunch?”

“yeah sure, what time?”

“don’t know yet but i’ll text you when im on the way.”

“perfect.” you smile as he leans over to kiss you one more time.

“bye mark,” you smile placing a hand on his cheek once he backs away a few inches.

“bye y/n.”

-

[elsweetheart]

Can I request something? You see, my friends tell me that I tend to flirt without even noticing. And I've noticed I indeed do that. I look people in the eyes and then look at their lips, I lick my own lips while doing that. I also tend to say softs "hmmm" "uhuum" to show them I'm paying attention. But I don't do that with that intention, because when I WANT to flirt, I'm a mess. Can you do Ellie or Abby (you choose) having a crush/dating someone who does that?

omg !!! me !!!!!!! i love this yes yes yea

im gonna do this w ellie because there’s not much to say about abby other than she will simply just bend you over and -

good view

🎀 short drabble in a hc format ?? idk wht this is. pre-relationship ellie x reader :)

• you were kinda out of it. didn’t get much sleep, and the weather was just warm enough to wear a tank top but a breeze still passed through the abandoned building you were all currently held up in, so you were fiddling with the thin cardigan you wore, pulling them over your hands. it put you in a relaxed, sleepy, slow mood.

• you and ellie weren’t together yet, so of course at any given opportunity when she sees you sitting alone she’d make conversation. she slid a chair over to where you were sat alone at a small table, straddling it backwards resting her arms on the back of the chair.

• “did you call dibs on a room? there’s not much choice, i mean they’re all pretty shitty.” she smirked light heartedly as you turned to face her.

• “yeah, picked the one with the good view.” you smiled hazily having being broken from your thoughts and your sleepy daydreams. you were blinking slowly, ellie always thought your eyelashes looked extra pretty when you did that.

• “nice, my window faces a brick wall.” she comment with an eye roll and you giggled which made her features noticeably perk up when she saw the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip mid giggle to stifle it. she tried not to stare, launching into a story about the time her and Joel passed through a fancy abandoned building and she called dibs on the fancy penthouse bedroom and made Joel sleep in the maid quarters.

• you were listening intently, at first, but you were tired and her features were just so distracting. not even because of your huge crush on her, she just was… interesting. your eyes dragged down to her bottom lip where she had acquired a fresh cut from some kind of scuffle she’d wound up in and watched the way it moved with her mouth as she spoke. “mhm.” you breathed lightly to let her know you were still sort of listening.

• she felt her heart in her throat as she watched your fluttery eyes stare at her lips and completely stumbled over what she was going to say. “it was funny because he was— um… it was funny because fucking—uh…” she lost track of what she was trying to say and this caused you to casually glance back up at her eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly in confusion making them look extra big and doe like which did not her help case.

• “wh’s wrong?” you spoke so softly she could barely hear it over the blood thumping in her ears when she realised she was blushing. what made it worse, is she watched you in real time notice her blushing too, your pretty eyes gliding across her face. “c’mon dude.” she laughed, sitting back away from where she was leaning on the chair to wipe her hands down her face.

• “i’m so confused.” you giggled back and she chuckled, fiddling with the chipped wooden table corner for a moment before looking back up at you with a little more determination.

• “can i finish my story please? without you eyeballing me like that?” her tone was jokey, slightly putting on a voice but you could tell she meant it. you sat back a little, tilting your head to the side like a confused puppy. “and like that.” she laughed before flickering her own eyes to your mouth. “s’distracting.” was all she needed to say and you sort of caught on and raised your eyebrows a little.

• “oh…” you willed her to speak more with her stare, so she did. “you’re pretty. drives me crazy, just a little bit.” she scrunched her nose and you smiled, letting it drop slightly as you held her stare. she cleared her throat, feeling overwhelmed. “anyway, as i was saying before you rudely interrupted with your face.” she continued which made you laugh. perhaps you needed to be more mindful about how you looked at people, however you did enjoy teasing ellie.

[cringe-but-proud]

"Shitty Free Pizza"

Hobie Brown x reader

Warnings: Reader gets broken up with, swearing, crying

A/n: ALRIGHT, FREAKS. I WROTE THE PART 2. Requests are open 😗✌️

"I'm going on break."

That was all you said to your four coworkers before grabbing your jacket and walking outside. You walked to the side of the building and sat on the curb.

Your boyfriend had just broken up with you. Over text. While you were at work. You didn't know what to do, how to react.

You pulled out your phone and read over the message he'd sent you. And then you read it again, and again, and again.

He'd made two typos. The asshole breaks up with you over text and he can't even be bothered to read over the message before sending it.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't want to cry over this asshole, you really didn't want to. But, despite what you wanted, tears began to roll down your cheeks; and once you started, you couldn't stop.

You put your head in your hands and sobbed. You probably looked pathetic. A Domino's employee, still in uniform, sitting in the parking lot and crying. How embarrassing.

"Oi!" You lifted and turned your head. A tall man dressed in clothes that were way cooler than yours was looking at you. "You alright?" He asked.

"Obviously not." The reply came out sounding a bit more condescending than you'd intended.

The man didn't seem to mind. He chuckled. "Guess I probably could've figured that one out on my own, huh?" The man stepped closer. "What's bothering you?"

You briefly considered calling the dude nosy and telling him to fuck off, but something made you stop.

He didn't seem ill intentioned...

You looked down at the concrete. "My boyfriend just broke up with me over text."

"Really?"

You nodded.

"What a prick. Y'mind if I sit down?" He gestured to the slab of concrete next to where you were sitting. You shrugged and he took that as a yes.

He sat with his elbows resting on his knees. "And he did this while you were at work too?" He asked.

You nodded again.

"That's fucked."

"I just..." You didn't know why you were talking to this guy you didn't even know. But, then again, you didn't really care at this point. "I feel stupid for crying over it."

"Why?"

"Because you're right!" You said exasperatedly. "He's a prick and what he did was fucked. And here I am, crying over this asshole. It's pathetic."

He hummed. "I get that." He tilted his head toward you. "But, once you're done crying, are you gonna try to get him back?"

You furrowed your brows in confusion. You weren't even gonna consider that. "No."

Are you gonna be sad about this for years to come?"

"No."

"Y'gonna give up dating altogether and insist that he left an unfillable hole in your heart?"

"Why are you asking me this shit?"

"Because if you were really pathetic, you probably would've said something other than no to those questions."

You paused, letting his words marinate. And then you chuckled. "Yeah. Sure."

"I'm serious!" He laughed. "There's a lot worse things to do in this situation than just crying."

"I guess you're right." You sighed. "But, still. I don't think venting to a stranger is one of the better things to do."

He chuckled. "I'm Hobie."

"I'm Y/n." You were surprised that this random guy was actually making you feel better. But, you weren't gonna complain.

"Now we're not strangers. Which hopefully means you'll tell me a little more about yourself and about this whole breakup."

You, once again, considered calling him nosey. But, for some reason, you weren't opposed to the idea of telling him more.

"Well," You began. "He and I had been dating for 5 months, for the first three or four months, he was really sweet. But... I don't know. This last month he was being really distant and he was always seeming kind of disinterested in me."

"So, was there any real reason for the breakup?" He asked.

"It was sort of out of nowhere. We didn't have a big argument or anything."

"This guy really does sound like a prick." Hobie scoffed. "I've only just met you, but you seem pretty cool."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. Besides who'd ever wanna break up with someone who could get them free pizza?" He smirked playfully.

You couldn't help but laugh. "Shitty free pizza." You corrected him.

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter if the food's shitty, long as it's free."

You opened your mouth to reply to him when someone called your name, one of your coworkers.

"It's been 20 minutes." Your coworker said, peeking their head around the corner of the building.

You sighed and got up. "I've gotta go." You told Hobie as you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket. "Thanks for keeping me company."

"It's no problem. I enjoyed it." He said, smiling up at you.

You wanted to ask for his number, or his socials, whatever. But, you'd just gotten out of a breakup. It felt wrong asking for someone's number so soon, even if it wasn't really with romantic intentions. So instead, you just said goodbye and went back to work.

You got inside and were taking your jacket off.

"Who was that guy you were talking to?" Your coworker asked.

You glanced over at them and shrugged. "A stranger."

"He was really hot."

You paused before signing. "Yeah, he was."

[audhd-nightwing]

percy jackson ep3 live reaction

yesss the attic it looks perfect

the voice crack on “hi” i’m cackling

“oh geez” HES SO PERCY

annabeth immediately i love him.

percy’s gf requirements: has to be willing to push him down a flight of stairs without hesitation

let percy understand the horses PLEASE

“i chose you” i thought it was gonna be like ‘because you’re my best friend’ but nah he is just suspicious of grover dang. “i trust you” DAMN HE REALLY LYING HUH. poor grover totally believes him too. good thing he earns his trust back eventually and remains his best friend forever

“i’m gonna pack the best snacks” HE IS THE BEST KIND OF FRIEND

why tf are there lobster traps in the cabin. WHERE IS HIS BED???

“i think they’re canadian maybe? or from chuck e. cheese i dunno” he’s literally my favorite person ever

“these are… interesting”

thalia’s tree :(

when do they tell percy that grover was thalias protector 🤔

“the most powerful being in the universe’s best idea to save his daughter’s life… was to turn her into a tree?” YEAH FR GET HIS ASS PERCY

bro really does not know how to read the room 💀 “she met a pinecone’s fate” dude she is talking about her dead friend/sister-figure. grover’s literally like “wtf man”

how tf did they get a taxi from long island to the city bro

“i’m sorry to hear that” UR THE BEST ANNABETH

why is grover singing… THEATRE KID ENERGY

“our voting system’s broken” hgjfhdhd

BIG OOF ????

the autism makes decisions so hard very real

NOT THE TOSTITOS /j

“they smell fear” “that’s bees” EXCUSE ME? BEES WHAT NOW??

damn dodds that’s brutal

“perhaps the most formidable demigod child alive” i adore how they make 12 y/o annabeth so fucking powerful. like i really really love that they do that cuz ppl always talk about how powerful percy is but not how powerful annabeth is

defeated by shitty evacuation skills smh

…we’re lost in the woods, somewhere in new jersey

“i didn’t even know they had forests in new jersey” king. what.

ahhh i wish they just made them 13 i really cannot see them as 12 year olds

ope it is revealed. GROVER STOP TRYING TO REDIRECT THE CONVERSATION ITS NOT WORKING

annabeth IMMEDIATELY knows it’s medusa lol

thinking abt how sally used medusa’s story to teach lil percy that appearances aren’t everything and “not everything that looks like a monster is a monster”. very interested to see what they do with her in this version of pjo

“and i definitely trust my mom” percy is such a momma’s boy i love it

i hope they don’t make her evil pls pls pls. SHES NOT EVIL SHES AN SA VICTIM. “a survivor” :(

“the gift the gods gave me is i cannot be bullied anymore” yes 🙌

girl really said “it’s not a gift it’s a curse” as if she was there 💀 ilysm but clearly the story you’ve heard isn’t what really happened

“so did i” :( she was a worshipper of athena

“i wasn’t like you, i was you”

ANNABETH “that isn’t what happened” GIRL YOU WERENT THERREEEEE

you tell them medusa !! her and percy get matching “i hate poseidon” shirts

team #trust issues

oop. yeah fuck poseidon.

okay yeah i really like this characterization of her. like a good person with a skewed moral compass. or at least good intentions but not great actions

leetle snakes hiss hiss

annabeth watching percy defeat alecto… she literally has heart eyes hehe

THEY BETTER SHIP HER HEAD TO OLYMPUS I SWEAR

you tell them grover!!!!!!

oh he really did choose grover because he trusted him aw :,)

YES SHIP THE HEAD

“i am impertinent” ily

the song 💀 this is why they are besties

LIN MANUEL MIRANDA? *lip bite*

[inkofimagination]

if you don't write something about sharing a bed with hasan asap 😓😓😓 jk please 🥺🥺🥺

oh my god yes, the beloved one bed trope!

"Hey, our car is broken down and the mechanic can't fix it until the morning so, uh, we're looking for rooms?" Hasan says, tapping an uncomfortable fist on the dusty reception desk of the only motel in a twenty mile radius.

A young man behind the desk slides his tired eyes up away from his magazine to glance at the man interrupting him, gives him the once over and then leans to the left to see Y/N slumped in the wooden chair shoved up against the wall. The young man lowers his magazine when he sees Y/N and perks up slightly in his chair, eyes still resting on her. Noticing this, Hasan protectively steps in front of his line of sight, blocking her from his view.

"So about those rooms, dude?" he reminds.

The young man looks at him with disdain, few taps on the ancient computer keyboard, he drawls in a monotone voice, "We've got a suite available for three hundred dollars."

"Three hundred? Are you for real? Nah dude. We just need a basic room,"

"We're booked apart from the suite."

"We're in the asscrack of nowhere, man. We just need your cheapest room," Hasan tries to reason.

"That's the thing about the asscrack of nowhere – there's only one motel, and that's us. All we've got is the suite. Take it or leave it," the guy shrugs. "She could always stay with me," he adds, winking at the girl.

Hasan felt that he was about to go off and teach this guy a lesson for being so disrespectful when she held out a hand to calm him down and keep him from causing a scene, "We'll take the suite."

Hasan signs the unreasonable amount of paperwork and then places his hand at the small of her back to guide her to the room, purposely creating a makeshift wall between the girl and the creepy guy whose eyes are still lingering a little too long.

The travelers got to their shitty room and tried to order some kind of food. 

Y/N quickly volunteer to collect it.

"You've got to be kidding me-" Hasan begins, "Oh yeah, great idea Y/N! Let's send the hot girl out on her own into the night in the fucking deep, dark desert with the fucking creepy guy downstairs ready to pounce on you at any-"

She helds up a hand up to stop him, "First of all, i can defend myself so fuck off thinking you're my protector and secondly, thanks for calling me hot," she teases.

She also announced that she was going to sleep on the very small sofa at the side to try and get some sleep before early day starts tomorrow, since there was only one bed in the room.

"I can't let you sleep in there!" Hasan yells, much louder than necessary.

"Why not? It'll be fine. I'm just glad we're in the same room - that guy in the lobby seriously creeped me out."

"Y/N, come on. Your back will be crippled – it gives you enough trouble as it is," Hasan reasons, but she was having none of it.

"Look, rock, paper, scissors! If I lose you sleep on the shitty sofa, if you lose we are sharing."

With a sigh, she realises that this is the only way a decision will be made because she knows Hasan could argue about this ‘till the morning.

Of course, Hasan won because she always throws scissors first.

Hasan finally mutters, "Are you actually ok with sharing?’’

"Hasan, it's cool. I'm good with it if you are?" as she headed back towards the bed.

He nodded his head shyly, a little too quickly to be playing it cool, and then mumbles, "Yeah, of course. Just want to make sure you're comfortable.”

“Yes”

"Are you sure? I can get a little clingy."

Y/N laughs at how serious he looks before reassuring him, "I can handle a little clinginess for one night if I need to."

Eventually, the room fell silent. Y/N’s tiredness from the dramatic events of the day caught up on her because before you know it, her eyes are fluttering closed and, before her mind could think too deeply about sharing a bed with the boy who makes her heart race, she fell asleep.

It must be a few hours later when her eyes blinked open slowly and then closed again. Desperate to regain her much needed slumber, she tried to snuggle further down into the slightly scratchy pillow when she realised that she has been laid on her arm. Giving it a quick wiggle to try and get some feeling back, Y/N turned onto her right side so she wasn't laying on her fuzzy arm again.

As soon as she has turned and settled, eyes still resting shut, she felt the warmth of the body beside her much closer than it was when she drifted off to sleep.

Her stomach feels like it's about to drop when she takes in the view directly in front of her. Hasan was laying on his side, she realised that they both subconsciously were mirroring each other's positions; one arm under a pillow, the other resting lightly in the tiny gap between their bodies. If she would have moved her hand a little bit down, it would be holding his. 

A rustle sounds start coming from next to her and she felt the bed move slightly under his strong frame. 

Scared, Y/N slammed her eyes closed and tried her best to even out her breathing to convince him she was sleeping and absolutely not being a fucking creeper watching him sleep.

She felt feel his arm move from next to hers to probably to rub at his eyes – and then as it lands back on the covers, it's touching hers. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

"Watching me sleep?" Hasan mumbles, no louder than a whisper and Y/N considered her options: ignore him and continue with her acting of being asleep, or admit it, teasing him and steadfastly ignore the wild beating of her heart.

"I know you're not sleeping, Y/N" he whispers again with a small huff of laughter, placing his hand directly on top of hers and giving it a tiny shake.

Decision was made for her.

Y/N slowly cracked her left eye open again, then quickly close it and bury her head into the pillow when she saw his sleepy, grinning face a whisper away from hers, "Nope, fast asleep."

"No fair," he murmurs.

Intrigued by what he means, hand still held in his, she slowly remove most of her face from the pillow, or at least enough that he can see her raise an eyebrow at him, and then you speak.

"Why no fair?"

He smirks, playing delicately with the fingers on her hand and says, "You got to stare at me. I wanna join in."

Y/N huffs out a laugh. Teasing she can do. Teasing is safe, familiar territory. The implications of what he just said – what you know he meant - is not. "You wanna join in lookin' at you? Narcissist."

"No, dumbass, not nearly as interesting as looking at you."

Y/N‘s cheeks flush immediately and she felt her eyes close in order to retain some order of control over herself in this situation. She swallowed as she felt his rough, calloused fingers dance over her wrist, hovering over her pulse point and she felt weak at how exposed he's got her emotionally.

[joesalw]

I sent these quotes to another blog a while ago and thought it would be a good time to bring them back here. Because a lot of people say they don't understand how or why people like Joe and that we don't know him and only like the person Taylor painted in her songs. A big reason for this is that these people never really saw him as much more than a pawn and Taylor's boyfriend or tried to get to get to know him beyond that. You're not required to do that ofc, but once you make up lies to fit your story that's other thing. My point is these are just a few things people who actually interacted with Joe up close and personal have said about him. Mostly all different people, because everyone who works with him has something good to say about him. Even people who randomly meet him seem to get enrupted right away. So this is to show what people who know him (co-workers, directors, his school teachers) say as opposed to the shitty stuff swifties say without even being in the same room with this man for 5 minutes to make people believe he's some kind of monster. I would even say there's a few things being said that are not very common for people to compliment in a man.

"He's just so gentle and sincere. I felt very safe with him."

"Joe isn't nearly as reserved as Nick, but it's a tendency to let others have the floor. He just tends to be more interested in everyone else, what they're saying, which is a lovely quality"

"he's so sensitive and thoughtful"

"there's something very soulful about Joe as a person. He's very introspective. He's exceptionally kind, as a person. There’s just something gorgeous about him, as a person, and that goes into the acting. He can do uncertainty brilliantly and he can do vulnerability brilliantly."

"Joe’s instinct as an actor is always to push away from the obvious and into ambiguity. He’s very quietly spoken. He’s not brash at all. He’s a gentle, intelligent guy. "

"Joe is such a naturally kind and warm and welcoming human being,”

"I don’t think people will be surprised by just how much everyone loves Joe Alwyn, how much everyone fell in love with Joe Alwyn… he’s a true English gent. I completely owe my heart to Joe Alwyn.”

“Yeah Joe Alwyn does come in and steal the hearts of everyone around. He’s just like the most genuine, kind, present human. Funny too! Real funny.”

"I know Joe a little and like him an enormous amount. Such a phenomenal talent and wonderful human

"He has to be one of the nicest people I have ever met and I know it might sound like I'm saying it to ease everyone's mind, but no genuinely he was the sweetest and he was super worried about me all the time"

"I really liked acting with him. He's really a gentleman. A sweet guy. He's really focused and cares a lot about his work"

"Joe is tremendously warm and winning"

"There was just something very subtle about his reading. You could feel the tenderness inside of him. He just felt real."

"I'll say he is perhaps the top notch talent I ever witness in a reading. He was so directable, so talented, and ofc the look is gorgeous. Like a gift dropped from heaven"

"He has a disarming humility which appears both on and off screen. I spoke to Joe recently and found that the experience of starring in a Hollywood movie had not changed him at all. He will continue to be the person he is."

"Very cool impressive actor. After meeting him I had the opposite thought: Can she keep him?" (This came from a movie director who seems to be a Taylor fan, after meeting him once)

“He’s really nice. Really, really friendly, really good dude.”

When Joe first arrived at the school… “He brought a maturity and intelligence that was of immense benefit to the group. He also had a passion for the work and a conviction within his own artistry that was an inspiration to some of his younger colleagues.” By the time Joe was approaching his final year, he had become… “completely fearless.”

"A brilliant natural actor, especially gifted at quiet emotion"

"He's an absolute pleasure to work with. I became very close to him. I think everybody did"

“He can carry a movie on his shoulders—he has the height, the looks, obviously, the voice, the ability with accents; he is versatile,”

“Joe was gentle and he wasn’t overly pushy, because he knew I’m not good at mushy stuff,” she says. “Boys age differently, they’re f—ing idiots until they get older. But he’s a kind man with good manners.”

“When you’re speaking to him you feel like he’s only listening to you,”

“He’s got…the greatest head on his shoulders,”

‘That very first scene between the tree, he was worried the entire time like, “Are you OK? I don’t want to hurt you. Shall we do it like that? Is this easier for you?” The entire time trying to find out if I was OK, he was so sweet, so gentle, that I knew that I would be safe with him"

'He's very hardworking, very down to earth, very diligent and very gregarious. A very nice spirit to be around.

'Joe was always deeply committed to his craft. He was often very moved by the massiveness of his vocation. 'He saw acting as a necessity. He was serious about it, very committed. He was exceptional in that regard. He's a thoughtful man who cares beyond the frivolity of putting on a show. 'He sees performance as a powerful gift that he has, and that he hopes can change things for good.'We always hoped that this poetic soul would find a place for his vision.'

wow this was such a precious thing to read, he's really such a nice individual it makes my heart warm 🥺

[bitchinfawkseh]

Heaven Knows Your Name, I've Been Praying: Chapter 13

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Summary: It's been one year since Sam and Dean last saw Cheryl. When she suddenly shows up, baring an apology for her absence, Dean is hurt and reluctant to forgive her.

W.C: 6146

Warnings: Alcoholism, depression, one mention of drugs, arguing/fights.

[A/N] Here's to my return! Expect regular weekly updates on Fridays! Tell me what you guys think, and thank you for reading 😉

Masterlist | AO3

One year later… 

Aside from the odd text or quick phone call, Cheryl barely contacted Sam and Dean. After all they had been through together, she abandoned them – left them as if they were nothing. In hindsight, they knew they wouldn't realistically be able to always be there for Cheryl. They had no real home, no jobs, nothing that was real or theirs aside from the Impala. Deep down they knew that she needed stability to heal, but they didn't know why she wanted them to leave. Why their presence made her depressed. Dean was especially hurt, he'd open himself up, asked her out, and said that he wanted to go on numerous dates with her – all for her to leave him. That would be the last time he attempts to start something with her. 

Dean wrapped his lips around the mouth of the beer bottle, taking a generous swig before he slammed it onto the sticky bar table. Eleven months, three weeks and two days. Those were all he had left to live since he made a deal to save Sam. Since then, he'd been living life to its fullest – drinking, hooking up with random women, gambling and recklessly getting into bar fights. 

He belched and let out a low chuckle when Sam sent him a disgusted look. “Hey, it's natural.” He excused. Sam sighed and shook his head in dismissal, the least he could have done was cover his mouth. “Whatever…” He mumbled. He tapped his fingers against their Dad's journal, briefly forgetting the current page that he was studying. “I talked to Cheryl today,” Sam announced. Dean's face fell and his nostrils flared in annoyance, he didn't want to hear about her. Not after she abandoned them like that. When he didn't reply or ask how she was, Sam just started to tell him what they talked about. “Her, uh, friend. Marisol died a while ago, she said she hasn't called because of the funeral and stuff.” He said. Dean's lips thinned into a straight line and his heart sank, he felt… sad for her despite it all. “We… talked some more. She asked me why you keep dodging her calls,” Sam continued. “I told her I don't know, but you should talk to her dude. I can't keep lying for you.” 

“You don't have to, tell her I don't wanna talk to her,” Dean grumbled angrily. Sam's face softened briefly, he knew his brother's feelings towards Cheryl – he went from being absolutely smitten to wanting nothing to do with her. And he didn't blame him, for a while, he didn't want anything to do with her either. That was until she finally communicated with him (because she was able) why she didn't want to have them around, why she'd rather be alone with Carlos. 

While it was still a shitty thing that she did, Sam understood why she did it, and he forgave her. Dean on the other hand was completely unwilling to even hear her out. Hence why he was ignoring her calls and texts. “Look… Dean…” Sam started. Maybe he could try to convince Dean to talk to her, or (hopefully) get him to see things from Cheryl's point of view. If Sam was incapacitated like she was, he could definitely see himself doing the same thing she did. “You should talk to her, hear her out. I mean, you gotta think, the doctor said she shouldn't have lived. That'd mess me up if I was told that.” Sam reasoned. Dean sighed and rubbed his chin, his light stubble scratched his fingertips pleasantly. While he had some sort of point, his anger was too strong to let him relent his hatred for her at the moment. “I'm not in the mood, Sammy. Let's just drink, alright?” 

That night, Dean drunkenly dreamt of Cheryl. He blamed it on Sam bringing her up before he got plastered, but even a baby would know that's not true. He dreams of her more than he'd like to admit. 

A field of vibrant tulips waved in the breeze, it was almost as if they were saying hello. For miles, all that surrounded them was tulips and grass. It was peaceful. It was home. 

Dean sat on the front porch steps of Bobby's house, they overlooked the tulip field. He hugged his knees to his chest and paid attention to his breathing. The slow rise and fall of his chest. “You know, my favourite colour is red.” Cheryl mused, gently bumping his arm with her elbow. Dean's lips stretched up into a gentle smile, and he turned his gaze towards her. “I know. I remember.” He replied. Cheryl smiled wide, her eyes crinkled with slight joy at the fact. He remembered everything about her. “Of course you do.” She teased. He chuckled softly and shook his head slowly. She remembered everything about him. 

“I made an apple pie for dessert.” She announced. Dean licked his lips and waggled his brows, which made her giggle. He appreciated her cooking, everything she made down to cup-of-noodles tasted wonderful. “You'll have to wait, it's cooling.” Cheryl grinned. He leaned closer to her and lightly grazed his fingers across the skin of her cheek before he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

Silver hoops. 

“That's fine.” He whispered. Cheryl turned to stare down at her knees, she pouted her lips together ever so slightly, it was hardly noticeable. Dean noticed. She sucked a sharp breath and abruptly met his gaze, sadness painted across her face. “I'm sorry.” She said. 

Dean's eyes snapped open and he blinked rapidly as he came to. The dream was still fresh in his mind, it was as if he were face-to-face with Cheryl again. Her eyes, her hair, her cheeks, her lips. They all felt so real. He was shocked that he remembered her little quirks too, like her smile lines or how she pouts her lips together when she's focused. Dean rubbed his eyes and let out a groan as he reluctantly sat up in bed. An instant hangover headache hit him like a freight train, leaving him irritable and tired. 

“Shit.” He grumbled under his breath as a wave of pain swam up his back. If he was going to die, at least he wouldn't have to deal with hangovers anymore. Although going to Hell may be worse than a hangover… joking about his doomed fate kept him sane, even if it made Sammy uncomfortable. 

“Finally,” Sam spoke up. He rose out of the small chair that he had taken camp in hours prior and sauntered towards the bed. “You stink.” He muttered and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Dean rolled his eyes and threw the covers off of himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He probably was a little musty, the last time he remembered showering was after their last encounter with Bela, which was three days ago. Sam glanced at the clock on the nightstand briefly and thinned his lips. “Uh, go shower. I know a cool breakfast place that serves Nutella pancakes.” He said. Dean cocked a brow and looked him up and down, Sam seemed like he was in a rush. “What's got your panties all up in a twist?” He smirked. Sam's brows knitted together and he swiped his tongue across his front teeth. If he told Dean what he was planning, he'd refuse to show up. “Nothing, just hungry. Hurry up.” 

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“Why did you wanna come here again?” Dean asked with a cocked brow as they strolled into the Mom and Pop diner. These things were all over the country, there was nothing special about them at this point. Sam shrugged and glanced down either end of the diner, “Nutella pancakes.” He muttered. Once his eyes settled on a booth tucked back into the far corner and the top of a head full of dark hair, he immediately started in that direction. “Hey, let's sit there.” Sam called back to Dean. He raised his brows and pursed his lips together, Sam never really cared about where they sat. Nor did he care about things like Nutella pancakes. “Mmmkay…” Dean mumbled as he followed Sam.

Cheryl anxiously tapped her fiery red fingernails on the simple white cup that held her coffee. She was excited to see Sam and Dean again, but also very nervous – she hoped that Dean would be happy to see her. But she knew that he wouldn't be happy to see her, and she understood why. She wouldn't be happy if he did this to her. Some part of her hoped that he still liked her, and found her pretty, especially now since she looked and was so different. Her hair is shorter and black now, she's much skinnier, and her wardrobe is impressive, to say the least. Being bedridden for months and having access to Carlos’ debit card made her shopping addiction a hundred times worse. Once she was able to be a person again, she started to visit bars more frequently, get wasted, and have sex with strangers – all because she was scared that she wasted her life. It wasn't until some guy offered her some coke that she snapped out of it, and boy was she ashamed of herself. Cheryl felt disgusted for letting herself have meaningless sex, that's not what it ever was to her. Sex is supposed to be intimate, and loving… you're supposed to do it with someone you care about – not random men and women. With whatever dignity she had left, she decided to stop having sex altogether until she was ready for something real. 

Carlos says that she should go to some AA meetings with him, but she hasn't been able to admit that she has a problem yet. 

She took a tiny sip of her coffee, enjoying the sweet taste that hit her tongue almost immediately. Cheryl set the cup down and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her heart nearly jumped into her throat when she saw Sam begin to pace over to her. He's here. He came – with Dean. She wondered what Sam must've told him to get him to come here. Cheryl quickly jumped to her feet to greet the two of them, an awkward smile on her face. “Hey…” She mumbled. 

Dean's eyes widened as soon as they landed on Cheryl, taking in her new appearance. She was much slimmer, had shoulder-length jet-black hair, and her outfit was – well. Different. Flared blue jeans paired with a tube top that matched her nails and a dark leather coat with tassels. Her accessories went well with it too, small white triangular sunglasses were perched on the top of her head, and she was wearing her infamous silver hoops. If he weren't gawking at her, he probably would've lost his shit much sooner. Finally, his brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. What the hell did she want? 

Cheryl sucked in a desperate breath when she saw Dean take a couple of steps back. “Please wait! Five minutes, please. I would just like to talk…” She begged. Sam frowned and turned to look at Dean, it was easy for him to voice his hate for Cheryl. He was always preaching how he didn't like her anymore and that he didn't like her all that much to begin with – but that was merely a lie. “C'mon, Dean.” He started. When Dean's accusing eyes meet Sam's, he grits his teeth. “Don't have any regrets,” Sam whispered just loud enough for him to hear. Don't have any regrets when you die is what he meant. Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes before reluctantly going to sit at the booth. When he brushed past Sam, he sent him a glare. “I'm gonna kick your ass later for this.” He growled under his breath. 

Cheryl flashed the boys an awkward smile as she watched Dean gobble up the breakfast sandwich with extra bacon that she bought him. Sam was picking at his plate of eggs and toast, but he returned her smile. She glanced down at her thighs and tried to ignore her rapid heart rate that was causing her too much anxiety. “I'd like to start off by saying that I'm sorry,” She exhaled. “I… I didn't intend to abandon you guys, just after the crash and the coma… and then everything else… I was scared I guess. I felt weak and vulnerable – I thought you guys would've seen me differently. Like, you wouldn't think that I was a good hunter anymore or you wouldn't take me seriously.” She rambled. She clenched her fists, and let out a shaky breath, she hoped to God that Dean would listen and forgive her. “And not that this is any sort of excuse, but I got really bad there for a while. I wish I had gone about it better, I really do. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” Cheryl frowned. 

Dean sighed and screwed his eyes shut, while her explanation made sense, part of him couldn't bring himself to forgive her. “You could've told us.” He said, shaking his head. “You could've fucking told us what the hell was goin’ on with you rather than kickin’ us to the damn curb!” He nearly shouted. Cheryl blinked in surprise and swallowed hard, her lips pursing as she did. “Dean, I'm sorry. I really am. Can we talk more?” She asked gently. Dean scoffed and shook his head in disbelief, she didn't deserve the light of day – let alone his time. “Nah, as far as I'm concerned, your five minutes is up.” He grumbled before storming out of the diner. Cheryl's heart jumped into her throat, and her eyes glazed with tears as she watched Dean leave. She thought that she might be able to convince him to forgive her, but it turned out she was wrong. Sam sucked in a sharp breath and turned his full body to watch Dean leave. “I'll talk to him,” He comforted. He waved his hands and practically leaped out of his seat, and took a couple of steps backwards. “I will, okay? I'll call you later.” Sam said. Cheryl only nodded and hung her head, her hair masked her pained expression and the one tear that managed to slip. She felt stupid for believing that Dean would understand. 

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Cheryl's muffled sobs echoed off of the paper-thin walls in the motel room, her face was buried into one of the pillows on the bed. Carlos stroked her hair and brought his knees to his broad chest. “I'll fucking kill him.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Cheryl shook her head wildly, “No!” She whimpered painfully. That was the last thing she wanted Carlos to do. “I deserve it, I shouldn't have left them…” 

“You don't deserve this shit, what the fuck are you talking about? You almost died trying to save his ungrateful ass, and this is how he's repaying you?” He growled as he gritted his teeth. 

“Stop!” She pleaded. She turned her head, squinting as the light made her sore eyes burn. She hadn't heard from Sam yet, and she's been crying since she got back from the diner. Cheryl wasn't sure how much time passed, but it felt like hours. 

“I miss him, Carlos.” Cheryl wavered as she tucked her hands under her chin. His lips thinned into a straight line, and his eyes softened, he knew how much she thought of him. Cheryl talked about Dean all the time, she'd tell stories – or talk about the things he liked. He couldn't believe that she was letting Dean treat her like trash, she had gone through every person's worst nightmare and he was adding onto it without a care in the world. “I know you do, I know.” Carlos sighed, even though he didn't understand why she did. Cheryl sniffled deeply and rubbed her eyes with closed fists. “He's just mad, he'll get over it.” She whispered. 

His jaw dropped, “You're gonna keep being friends with him after this?” 

“Of course, I will,” Cheryl scoffed as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. While she didn't like to admit it, Dean meant too much to her for her to give up their friendship like this. He changed her, and left his mark on her soul – no matter how much pain it sometimes caused. “He's my friend, we're just going through a tough time right now.” 

“Tough time is an understatement,” Carlos mumbled under his breath. 

Cheryl rolled her eyes and sniffled again as she wiped her eyes, cringing when she realized her mascara and eyeliner were smudged. “I'm gonna clean up and go out, don't wait up.” She sighed. Cheryl slid off of the edge of the bed, and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, ruffling it up a bit. Carlos raised his brows and his lips parted, “You're going out? To like a bar?” He asked. “Yeah, I need a fucking drink. Is that illegal?” She huffed out. Before Carlos could say anything else, she had locked herself in the bathroom and started running the shower. He knew she wasn't showering – she was just trying to ignore him. If her good qualities didn't make up so much for her few bad ones, he would've dropped her long ago. 

Once she was cleaned up, Cheryl changed into something more comfortable – sporting her infamous cherry red leather coat and black skinny jeans. While she owned a lot of clothes now, she still found herself going back to that one specific outfit. She tossed a lip balm into her chunky faux leather purse with silver chains as the handle. Cheryl also managed to shove her sketchbook inside, but she couldn't close the clasp, unfortunately. She wasn't quite used to carrying around a purse, she thought if she picked one that she liked the look of it'd be easier – she was sadly mistaken. Carlos cocked a brow and sat up on his elbows, his long legs sprawled out off of the edge of the bed. “When are you gonna be back?” He asked hesitantly. He didn't want to set her off and send her on some sort of bender because she was determined to prove a point. When it came to handling Cheryl and her obvious alcoholism, he had to be gentle. Cheryl shrugged, “Dunno, probably around 12. Don't wait up.” She replied. 

“Alright,” Carlos sighed. “I'll just stay here and be all lonely and depressed.” 

She chuckled softly, “Shut up you loser.” 

He groaned and slumped back into the mattress, rolling around dramatically as if to emphasize his point. Cheryl grinned and rolled her eyes playfully as she pulled her purse to hang comfortably on her shoulder. “Alright, bye now.” She mused. Carlos puckered his lips together and proceeded to make obnoxious kissing sounds. “Miss you already, baby cakes.” 

“Oh my God! Stop!” 

A good while after Cheryl left for one of the only two bars in the town, Carlos had set off on a mission of his own. He was gonna set Dean straight – preferably with violence but he doubted it'd go that way. All he had with him was a bat in the bed of his truck and that was all he needed. He reckoned from the stories that Cheryl told, all he had to do was merely threaten destroying his precious Impala to get his ass in line. 

He perused around town on the hunt for Dean's distinct Impala parked outside anywhere  – a motel would be preferable, but who knew what he was up to on a Friday night at nine. Carlos pursed his lips together as the little beaded swans and lilies that hung from the rearview mirror clashed together as he stopped at a red light. He had a little mouse that was attached to his keys as well, courtesy to Marisol. She loved all things that involved arts and crafts – she even ended up getting into candle making at some point. Carlos still had boxes full of random scented candles without labels littered around his house, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of them. It was the last thing Marisol made for him until she got too weak to do anything but lay in bed. Carlos swiped his tongue across his bottom lip and glanced around either end of the street. “Where is this little fucker?” He muttered under his breath. 

Finally, out of the corner of his eye, he managed to catch the sleek body of the Impala glinting under a streetlight in the parking lot of one of the trashiest motels in town. Without a second thought, Carlos swerved over the curb and a patch of grass into the parking lot, ignoring the various cars honking at him and people flipping him off. There was nothing that was going to get in his way now, he was going to teach Dean a lesson. A well-deserved one too. 

Carlos slammed the door shut and stomped towards the truck bed, fisting out the baseball bat eagerly. The bat was more for show, but if Dean put up a fight he'd be more than happy to. Maybe take out his kneecaps or perhaps a nice hit to the gut. Whatever he can manage to get, Cheryl said that Dean's a fast runner. 

Rather than having to go through the hassle of bribing the front desk clerk for where the Winchester's room was, he spent a lot more time than he'd like to admit knocking on each door. Carlos flashed the older-looking woman a nice smile, and discreetly tucked the bat behind his broad back. “Sorry miss, wrong room. Do you know which room the people who own the black Impala in the lot are staying in?” He asked. Her paper-thin thin drawn-on eyebrows shot up, and she poked her head out the door to peer down the sidewalk that led to another set of rooms. “Um, the two tall white guys?” She confirmed. Carlos nodded, “Yup, they're my buddies.” 

“Oh, uh, I think it's the far one. Room twenty-one or around that.” 

“Thank you so much, gorgeous.” Carlos grinned, sending her a flirtatious wink. The woman flushed and cupped her cheek, she swayed her hips giddily and returned his grin. “No problem, mister.” 

“See you around,” Carlos said before rushing down the walk. Shamelessly flirting with random people brought him a sense of joy, especially because he'd never see them again and it'd never go anywhere. He hoped to God that Marisol couldn't see him right now, he was not doing well and he would be ashamed if she were to see how he is. 

He knocked on the door of rooms nineteen and twenty, there was no answer. Twenty-one, no answer. Twenty-two, however, had a familiar grumbly voice groan from the inside of the room, and then there was shuffling towards the closed door. Carlos swallowed, and his jaw hardened, his grip on the bat tightened as the locks made clicking noises as who he hoped was Dean prepared to open the door. Then, he was suddenly face-to-face with the man responsible for Cheryl's tears. Carlos’ eyes narrowed, and Dean's eyes widened. He raised the end of the bat to his chin and his brows shot up, “I'm gonna fuck you up, bolillo.” 

“Shit!” Dean barked out in a panic. 

He attempted to force the door shut, but Carlos was a much bigger guy than him – he was at least six foot-five and had muscles that made him look even more menacing. Carlos simply urged the door open with his arm, and it flew back against the wall with a loud thud. There was a tiny hole in the wall that just barely gave them a glimpse of the fluffy pink insulation from where the doorknob smashed into it. There was no doorstopper, it was the motel's fault. Dean stumbled back and raised his hands in defense. “Woah! Dude! Calm down!” He practically shouted. Sam sprang from his spot on the edge of the bed and planted himself between the two of them. Dean had no chance against Carlos, especially if he had a bat. “Carlos! What's going on?!” Sam questioned. He grit his teeth, and once again pointed the bat toward Dean who poked his head out from behind Sam. “You're an ungrateful piece of shit!” Carlos yelled. 

Now, what the hell did that mean? 

“You feel good about yourself, huh? Constantly ignoring Cheryl, shitting on her, making her cry?!” He fumed, waving the baseball bat around to emphasize his point. Dean didn't move, he didn't speak. Of course, this was all about her, her guard dog. “She almost died trying to save your life in case you forgot! God forbid she has some feelings towards that! God forbid she does what she needs to do to heal!” 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “That's not-” 

“It's not what? Hmm?” Carlos mocked. “You all butt hurt that the girl you had a fat crush on decided to care for her well-being over yours? Grow the fuck up!” 

“Carlos.” Sam pleaded. Carlos’ eyes snapped over to him in an instant, and he clenched his jaw. He desperately wanted to diffuse the situation between the two of them, he had been talking to Dean about Cheryl all day – convincing him to forgive her. He thought he had gotten pretty close until Carlos showed up. 

Carlos then sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head slowly. He had to calm down, if Cheryl found out that he got all violent with Dean, she'd attack him with a lot more than her words and a bat. “You were all she talked about, all she thought about. She felt awful about leaving you guys, and I got through sobs today when she explained to you why she left. And the fact that you can't get over yourself and be whatever you guys were before, is sad.” Carlos’ lips thinned, and his brows furrowed as Dean's sullen expression only grew worse. He hoped he felt guilty, he should feel guilty. “She deserves better, so either be better, or be a man, and cut it off properly.” 

Everyone was silent, the only sound in the room was the quiet ticking of the clock and electricity softly buzzing. Dean could hear his heart pounding in his ears, blood pumping, he was oddly aware of every hair on his body. He did feel guilty, he felt awful. He made Cheryl cry – and she was trying to help him when they all nearly died. The doctors said that she absorbed a lot of the impact in the crash, but due to his injuries from the demon, he was still in critical condition. And then, his Dad died. Because of him. For him. Suddenly, there was this overwhelming crushing weight on his chest. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, “Where is she?” He asked. “Cheryl, where is Cheryl?” He corrected as if neither of them would know who he was referring to. Carlos’ thinned to slits, it looked as if he were trying to blow Dean up with his mind. “What, you're gonna go and make her cry some more?” 

“No, no… I wanna – I'm gonna talk to her, and… say sorry n’ shit.” Dean reluctantly grumbled. Sam's eyes briefly widened, and he shot him a surprised look. But before Dean could see it, he quickly wiped it off of his face – he didn't want to discourage him. He had to be as neutral as possible about this if he wanted Dean to go through with it.

Carlos cocked a brow and looked him up and down. He was wary to believe him – but again, Cheryl would tell him if anything bad happened. “...The bar.” He answered simply. 

“Which one?” 

“Figure it out, there's only two. If you care, you'll find her.” Carlos snorted. He didn't know which one she was at, but it was funny to think about Dean running around like a headless chicken. It brought him great joy. Sam on the other hand was impressed that all it took was some yelling and name-calling to get Dean to stop being a prick. Maybe it had to come from Carlos all along though – he likely wouldn't listen to him if he were the one to yell at his stupid brother. Dean nodded once and threw his jacket on in a quick haste. He scooped up his car keys from the side table, and without a single word, he left on the hunt for Cheryl. 

Sam's eyes landed on Carlos as soon as the door clicked shut, overwhelmed with the feeling of sudden awkwardness. He didn't know what to say – or what to do even. He couldn't exactly ask him to leave without it being a little weird and impolite, so he waited for Carlos to do something. Carlos pouted his lips together and swung his arms back and forth. He sucked on his inner cheek, which made a loud squelching noise. “So…” He started. Carlos cleared his throat and glanced over at Sam. “You lift?” 

Dean sped down the road, he ignored a red light which earned him some rightful honks from other cars. He felt like he was driving around in circles – he couldn't remember where the bars in town were. Let alone what they were called. The radio crackled as the signal grew unsteady, his brows knitted together, and he gave it a hard smack. A static sound was omitted from the radio until it settled. It was quiet, and then a guitar began to softly riff – the beginning of Bed of Roses by Bon Jovi. Dean exhaled sharply, and grit his teeth as he reluctantly returned his eyes to the road. A bright red sign illuminated a shady parking lot full of motorbikes, and trucks. 

A bar. 

The Rosebud. 

There was no question about it, Cheryl was drinking at the Rosebud. He didn't even need to explain himself – why he knew she was there. It was plain obvious. Dean pulled into a parking spot, not caring whether or not he was parked within the lines. He didn't see Cheryl's bike anywhere, so he hoped that she either walked or got a car in the past year. 

Cheryl tilted her head as she shaded the ruffles in the dress that she had just drawn. She liked to work with ruffles and tulle, they were so fun to fluff up – especially to draw. Right now, she was working on a wedding dress. Floral lace on the bodice with little pearls that trailed along the sweetheart neckline. She wasn't sure if she should keep the pearls on the bodice however, she may scatter them around in the skirt instead. She tapped the end of the pencil against the page and finished off the rest of her rum and coke. She's had two drinks so far, she limited herself to four. The wooden stool she was sitting in that was placed at a tall round table was quite uncomfortable. Cheryl found herself constantly wiggling to relieve the ache in her lower back and her butt. She originally chose this table because it had a bowl full of pistachios in the middle of the table, and because it was tucked back in the corner away from prying eyes. 

Patrons chatted and laughed, making it difficult to hear what songs were playing over the speakers. Dean glanced around the bar, his eyes searching through the mass of people for a familiar face. For her face. He brushed past a woman with a head full of frizzy blonde hair and obnoxious dangly earrings with red tassels. She sent him a look that was asking for him to talk to her – take her to bed, and while he was tempted, he'd rather not. He flashed her a polite grin before continuing to push through the crowd. Finally, his eyes skimmed past Cheryl parked in the corner of the room sitting at a table alone. His heart clenched and he sucked in a breath, she had her nose in some sort of book – maybe she was writing or researching a case. Dean swallowed the growing lump in his throat and pursued forward. Now that he was closer and he wasn't busy being mad at her, he thought that she looked very beautiful. 

“Can I buy the pretty lady a drink?” He smirked as he claimed the spot across from her. Cheryl's eyes widened, and her lips parted, her head snapped up in an instant and she was overwhelmed with the feeling of relief. “What?” She breathed. Dean waggled his brows and shrugged his shoulders, “You still drink whiskey?” He asked. Cheryl nodded slowly and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Uh, yeah. Sometimes.” 

“Oh yeah? What are you into now?” 

“Rum and coke… sometimes tequila.” 

“Oh, sweet. Tequila comes from Mexico, right?” 

“Yes, originally…” Cheryl trailed off. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she set the pencil down onto her sketchbook. “What are you doing here? I thought – I thought you hated me.” She said hoarsely. Dean sighed and bowed his head like he was ashamed. Ashamed that he made her think such a thing. “Nah, I don't hate you. I was just… pissed off.” 

Cheryl snorted, “Really? I couldn't tell.” 

“Look, I… I dunno, I was hurt I guess… and pissed off that you left us.” Dean started. He was ready to apologize for being unnecessarily rude to her. She had already apologized more than enough times to him if he included all of the texts and voice-mails she sent him over the recent months. Cheryl's lips thinned, and she nodded slowly in understanding. “I know, I know I hurt you and I'm so sorry for that Dean.” She said softly. He rubbed his chin and screwed his eyes shut, she kept saying sorry. All she did was say sorry for something that wasn't even that bad – she was healing the way she needed to. “Nah… I get it, I get it. I would've done the same thing if I was in your situation probably.” He muttered, shaking his head to dismiss her apology. 

“Really?” 

“Honestly? Yeah, I would have.” 

Then, there was an awkward silence between the two of them. They hadn't seen each other in a while, hadn't spoken – they weren't sure what to talk about or how to act. Cheryl had her eyes fixed on her sketchpad and vigorously bounced her knee. Dean tilted his head and raised his brows as his gaze settled on her drawing. It was good – very good and detailed, it looked like it came straight out of a fashion magazine. “Holy shit, did you draw that?” He blurted out. Cheryl flushed before nodding, she was very secretive about her art. She didn't think it was that good, and she was quite insecure about her creations. She worried that people might not think they are pretty or original, or worse – she lacks talent. “Oh, um, yeah. Do you like it?” She asked shyly as she slid it across the table for him to inspect. 

Dean's brows shot up and he pursed his lips together, it looked amazing – the shading that provided the look of texture and shadow made it look almost 3D. “Hell yeah, this is great, Cheryl. You got any more?” 

“Si, I do.” She smiled. “You can flip through it, don't judge though – some of it is bad.” 

“I doubt that,” He scoffed as he leafed through the pages of her sketchbook. Most of her designs were dresses – cocktail dresses, black tie dresses, wedding dresses, and prom dresses galore. Dean pointed to a hot pink dress that was coloured in with glittery pen and had a high slit up to the thigh, “See, now that's sexy.” 

“Yeah, I was going for slutty Barbie.” She grinned. Dean chuckled and he had a wide grin that stretched from ear to ear. He's missed her humour, and he hadn't even realized it. “Well, you definitely got that. I like slutty Barbie.” He winked. Cheryl rolled her eyes playfully and brushed him off, “Typical man.” She teased. 

They fell into another spell of silence, but this time it was comfortable, natural. Cheryl tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and smiled faintly. “I missed you.” She confessed as she clasped her hands together in her lap. Dean matched her smile and nodded slowly, he was glad that she missed him. Secretly, he missed her too. He had the occasional dream about her, usually after he drank, and that made him miss her despite his anger towards her at the time. “You gonna stick around? …Like before? Riding around and huntin’ monsters?” 

Cheryl cocked her head, “Do you want me to?” 

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

[nanojungle]

Fish Wishes!

(Images aren’t mine, snatched from google)

Ok so I’ve thought about this for awhile and I’ve seen a couple of these guys in fish stores and done the research to figure out what’s going to be happiest in my 15G nano tank.

Honey Gourami as the centrepiece fish

When I see these guys iRL, they’re always inquisitive, swimming right up to things and then giving them a little pat with their feelers. They’re cute and interesting to watch. Generally considered a peaceful community fish but Reddit has been full of stories of them bullying their own kind until they die :< As they’re happy solo, I think I can give them a stress free life being the centrepiece fish of the tank with a few easygoing nano fish friends.

Or Sparkling Gourami as the centrepiece?

I love the idea of Sparklers. I fell in love with the YouTube series from Foo the Flowerhorn where they set up a tank with sparklers and amanos. In reality I think it’s very risky for the amanos; I’ve had LFS guys and Reddit posts give me anecdotes about the sparklers eating shrimp or killing them off slowly by beating them into hiding. Let’s be honest, I do this hobby to relax. I’m not going to have violence in my tank! Such a shame as they’re so pretty. The image of these guys with their turquoise scales and a backdrop of a bunch of baby blue jelly shrimps would be soo cool but I know there would be suffering so it would never be worth it.

Nano fish

Celestial Pearl Danios

Excuse the shitty iPhone vid. Sometimes you just have to go to see some fish iRL to figure if you’re really going to love them.

I’ll tell you what, every time I see these guys in real life they make my heart flutter with how stinking cute they are. They have beautiful colours and are so small. The ones I’ve seen in store have been about 0.8” in length.

Chilli rasbora

These are another species that always catch my attention in person. Their little faces and big eyes are too cute to handle and their body shape looks like a miniature red shark. They’re also micro predators so they would have a great time gobbling up the creatures and loose eggs in the tank. Thankfully their mouths are too small to do any damage to shrimps!

Extras;

When I think of all the gross lil non-fish creatures I would enjoy in a tank, my mind always gravitates to cherry shrimp or amanos. With amanos I think i’d like the peace of mind to rely on these lil dudes to clean up the nastier hairier algae if it turns up.

However, a hoard of cherries swarming the tank and filling it with bright colours would also be so fun! Blue jellies are the cutest but bright orange ones look like you’ve got a tank full of pre cooked shrimp or living cheetos.

Anyways, that’s my fish wishes! Im not going to get every one of these fish, just a centrepiece fish, some skrimps if compatible and a small shoal of nano fish.

Next weekend I might go to the LFS and see what I can find, I’m so excited!

[arezenithofyouthlove]

Congratulation manhwa. You managed to turn hell arc, one of the most emotional parts of the novel, into some half-half shitty ass comedy show. I'm so disappointed I swear. My quick review of current arc, beware of strong language

Chap 112: overuse of Lloyd's face as normal. Javier has better interaction with a demon than with his master???

Chap 113: using the information in the hell Internet with only 40% true to bet for your life is stupid Lloyd. Why don't they just stick to the original where Lloyd knew Helkaro's personality through the Knight of Blood and Iron novel??? Wouldn't that make so much more sense??? All Helkaro's inner thoughts were removed. Javier casually asked Lloyd about his real identity. Urgh Lloyd's faces again 🤢

Chap 114: I don't think in the novel Lloyd acting like that or it's just manhwa adaption. But the fact they draw Lloyd tried to kill a satan crossing the lava river is disgusting. Also Lloyd's face 😮‍💨

Chap 115: the reaper adaptation is fucking stupid if you are asking me. Why didn't the reaper get that dark wizard dude soul from before? So if you practice dark magic you won't be dragged to hell at all? And you can stay on the living realm killing more people??? And the reaper talk with ogLloyd. Please shut up. Pretending to be a meaningful life lesson but it just didn't work. If Suho has system power back in Korea would he still be hardworking? Or will he also get corrupted by it too? That hypothetical question is so stupid. They are trying to make original Lloyd to be less hate-able. Since when did him care about the estate at all? Why do you need to reduce his crime?

Chap 116: this is when I feel they massacre Lloyd's character trait the most. They already did it for a long time but I will focus on this chap. How he treat to ogLloyd is completely different to the novel. Novel Lloyd knew he stole OgLloyd body so he tried to find a way to compensate him back, but manhwa Lloyd just told him to get lost cuz he didn't gain anything from doing that? Suho would never say something like that. Deep inside he is a kind hearted so he always felt guilty and wanted to help ogLloyd if he could. But look at him now? He only helped OgLloyd cuz he think he is a nuisance. Next we have the rail building situation. Lloyd was clearly in the wrong side but he acting like a real scum. He didn't even say sorry and just told the lava monster to accept it? And told Javier to kill it? For real? I can understand in the novel it was self defence since the lava monster didn't accept Lloyd's apologies but I can't make any excuse for his wrong doing in the manhwa. Are they trying to make him look like a jerk as much as possible in front of the satan eyes? Even Javier knew what Lloyd doing was wrong. Lloyd even shoved the satan to the ground while he is running away. Where is his "safety first" rule now? I know they are in hell but he didn't care about life of other at all. Novel Lloyd even built a grave for the unlucky satans died in the lava monster attack in secret but I guess doing that is too ooc with the current manhwa version of him.

Chap 117: Really? They draw Javier having fun by putting Lloyd in danger? Is this really the same Javier who swear he will protect Lloyd with his own life? And let Javier question that? This is just absurd and not funny at all. They are too focusing on drawing "comedy panel" to the point of making a person who already read the novel like me get sick of it. What irritating me is the fact that the adaption team knew they are ruining the novel source just so they can make Lloyd a money-making machine for them. Manhwa good art can't save it completely from a badly written plot lack of character development and interaction.

Chap 118: The summon acting like Lloyd. Also it seems like they forgot Bibelhyung original size is a giant beaver so they just draw the chibi version of him. Lloyd and OgLloyd talk... I wanna to strangle LHM so bad. This is not my Lloyd at all! HE DID NOT TREATING OGLLOYD LIKE THAT IN THE NOVEL. Now helping ogLloyd is just he doing free charity, oh how noble of him is that? Here come Helkaro and thing about system. I can see the adaption team try to make thing more interesting by bullshiting all the stuff about higher-being and upper side but I think it won't come to anywhere. The system is helping Lloyd too much, acting just like a convenient plot armor. This bring me back to the Destiny Point system, another stupid adaption in my opinion. It's an attempt of them to spoiler about the Prince Making Drug sequel, which in turn end up a total plot destroyer. It is literally a free version of Ending Spoiler now since it could notice Lloyd something bad happen in the future. The way it works is also questionable. How long can the butterfly effect last? The way it calculate the number of people life like mere data? Isn't it behaving like a chain sackle Lloyd at a predestined future now? It appeared after Alicia got that eyes but it didn't take that into calculation?

Phew. I will wait for chap 119 to get translated first then continue to vent, unless Tumble shadowban me like last time lol

[hajihiko]

do you have thoughts on izuru post sim? ive seen a few headcannons here and there where he disappears, or hajime develops a sort of alter ego/DID situation. im curious how he would play into the survivor dynamic you've got

Ok this is gonna be based on absolutely nothing but bear with me

1. Ideally, I would WANT Hajime and Izuru to be pretty merged, but still separate? Seperate, because I just think the concept of talking to the seperate entity in your mind is such a cool trope (in a fantasy/sci-fi setting, no real logic behind it, dont wanna be insulting towards people with actual DID). Merged, because I like the idea that Izuru would have some of Hajime's thoughts and feelings and he could re-learn what it's like to have feelings and friends 🥺 BUT that could potentially mean Hajime shares some of Izuru's lack of life luster, which is fittingly sad but.....haji....

It's like the best scenario for both of them I think, they sorta blend into each other but they can still be more this guy or more that guy, but they're pretty content

2. the other idea is that they sorta, fight to pilot the same vessel sometimes? Mostly Izuru doesn't much care about it, and Hajime is Player 1 by sheer force of will (which he has a lot of!!) But Izuru jumps out in moments of panic of where Hajime loses control, and it can be a little hard to get them to switch back. Which is a little scary bc Hajime may be pretty superhuman but it's all muddled into his shitty little normal human brain, and Izuru is 100% power 100% of the time.

(sidenote, Hajime having shit like super strength and super intelligence, but sometimes he forgets?? Like he needs to focus to apply talent and still remain himself, and sometimes it slips and he drops an entire car or something.)

This lends way to a fun "learning to live together" narrative and some drama!

Maybe first situation 2, then situation 1? Happy ending?

As for how it fits into the group;

I like the idea that Hajime might hide how much Izuru is still around, because drama, but he can't hide it for long because FRIENDSHIP. obviously his friends will love him regardless, but it might be a little scary to see your friend blink away and a blank slate of immense power pop out.

Akane would be on him right away because she can just tell there's something more to him. Her gut doesn't lie! But no one fully believes her at first :( she gets to have a great I Told You So moment. She kind of catches on that Izuru isn't...a SUPER huge threat, so she's chill (maybe too chill. If Izuru chose to do something bad, she wouldn't notice because of how non-emotional he is and it'd really fuck with her confidence in her senses.).

Souda wooooould probably be very distrusting of the whole thing. Like he's supportive of Hajime ofc but he does not like that there's a whole seperate guy (not really) who can spy on them. Souda is already such a suspicious guy, and I think at the end of FTEs hes like "ok don't make me suspect you tho hahaaa" but he comes around eventually. Probably loves that Izuru-side can do basically anything, great help with carrying heavy machinery!

Fuyuhiko is a very loyal dude and might take it a little far tbh? He's like "I wanna talk to HAJIME my friend HAJIME and no one else" and Hajime is like "ok I appreciate that we're still friends but I can't..make him leave. You're just yelling at *me* right now." I think he'd be the one to treat them the most as seperate people, which is sometimes good and sometimes bad (might relate Izuru to Peko and insist he's his own person lol). But bless his heart he tries real hard to let Hajime know he's in his corner.

Sonia is always a little hard for me so I have no idea about her tbh. I guess maybe she'd relate to Izuru a bit for being made into something he's not, the whole "useful first, human second"? She might actually think the whole thing is really cool and grill both Hajime and Izuru about the details of their situation.

Ok talky over I have no idea if this is gonna make sense I woke up like an hour ago lol

[zorilleerrant]

"Did you know?" Jace demands, slamming the door open, maybe a little too hard. It's a cheap door. Why is Luke living in an apartment with such a shitty door?

"Jace?" Luke asks, rubbing at his eyes. He's asleep in the middle of the afternoon. Typical. What an asshole. He could at least wake up when Jace needs to talk, like he always used to say he would.

"Hey. Your apartment sucks ass." He should've shown up in costume. Bat swooping in right in the middle of the night scares the shit out of people, if you time it right. He could've done that to Luke. Had the upper hand. He could use the armor, anyhow, more than just a too chic jacket and a logo tee.

"It's Gotham, man. Shit's getting knocked down again in six months, max, no one bothers to build for durability anymore. What are you doing here?" Luke yawns, stretches, scratches at his neck like he doesn't even care that Jace is here. Turns his back on Jace. Like he doesn't know they're fighting yet. "You want some breakfast?"

Jace does actually want some breakfast. But admitting that would be letting his brother win, so he's not about to do more than sit down at the counter, arms folded in front of him, and scowl. It's a waste of an excellent scowl, because Luke doesn't turn around even when Jace says, "dad says you knew."

"Knew what, dude, I don't even - oh. This is about Batman." Luke sets his utensils down carefully, pressing his palms to the counter to look Jace soulfully in the eyes in the way that really brings forward the childhood urge to bite.

"Fuck Batman," Jace tells him. God, this would be so much easier if it were about Batman, if this could just be. Another misunderstanding. A heart to heart about the face behind the cowl. What it feels like to swing down from the roof and drag a stranger from the maw of death. Anger at their father for hiding things.

Well.

Easier anger.

"Okay, well, if it's not about Batman, you're going to need to give me like fifteen to twenty to wake up, because I have no idea what the fuck you're even talking about. Can I finish making pancakes?" Luke doesn't even wait for an answer before he goes back to cooking. Why should cooking be different from anything else in his life?

Jace sits and waits for his pancakes. Maybe he's just too hungry to have an argument. His head drops onto his arm and he stares listlessly at the wall, and that, that, Luke notices. Waste of a scowl. He can't muster up the energy for a new one. "Did you know that Mom's not my real mom?"

"The fuck are you talking about, she's not your real mom, she raised you your entire life, she rocked you when you were sick, she cheered at your soccer games, she put your certificates up on the fridge. She changed your diapers, Jace, she's been there for you every second." Luke pauses, turns back to the stove, and - Jace is rolling his eyes before the silence even grows, because Luke is just that predicatable - then turns back, waving a spatula in the way he definitely got from Mom, except he couldn't have, because Jace got it too. "Some of my best friends are adopted, and they would kick your ass over that. Don't be an asshole, Jace."

Jace's heart falls, or his stomach, or something, something drops in the center of his being giving him vertigo like the space between sheer skyscraper walls, except this time he hasn't controlled the landing. "So you did know." There's a taste on his tongue like he ate something spicy, even though Luke doesn't put so much as chocolate chips in his pancakes except for Tiff. And Jace hasn't even eaten any yet.

"That you were adopted? Yeah, I knew - you didn't?" Luke gets that look like he's about to be the golden child again and turns the stove off so he can sit by Jace instead, arm around his shoulder, and it's warm and gentle enough to piss Jace off, not that he'll give Luke the satisfaction of shoving him away or whatever.

Jace just burrows his face deeper into his hands. It muffles his voice, but, hey, Luke's secretly been a detective this whole time, so fuck him. "I'm not fucking adopted, shithead. Dad cheated on mom." The words sound just as wrong in his voice as everyone else's.

"That's - what? No, that - there was some teenager in trouble, or like a single mom or something, it wasn't - it was just a normal adoption, Tim, Jace, sorry, there's nothing nefarious going on!" Luke still hasn't stopped hugging him, but the way his hand moves has turned mechanical, like if he were wearing the Batwing suit after all. It's starting to chafe at Jace's back, not like this whole conversation didn't enough already.

"Some lady at his work, I don't know," Jace says. He sounds tired. He is tired. He doesn't know why this should be his problem to deal with, why his dad's fucked up decisions are always his to deal with, years down the line.

Luke stares at the table with Jace, not moving even when Jace gets nervous enough to inch away. That's his inventing face - or probably his detecting face, now that Jace thinks about it - a soft furrow of the eyebrow, lips moving like he's muttering to himself, even though Jace doesn't catch so much as a name.

"He says it like it was a one time thing," Jace says, not quite into his hands, wishing the kitchen were shaped differently so he could stare apathetically out the window without straining his neck. "But they were at it long enough to have me. So I think one time doesn't really cover it, you know?'

"Oh, god, poor Mom," Luke says, in the kind of dawning horror Jace has been over for weeks now, curling his fingers against the counter like he expects a tablecloth. Jace doesn't know why he does - there isn't one in the whole apartment, and Luke hasn't been home for dinner enough to get used to them again.

"Poor Mom? How about poor me?" Jace says, admittedly petulantly, but he's the one here to be comforted and she's not, and he shouldn't have to whine like a kid to get Luke to pay attention to him. "Whatever. Just. Go back to the pancakes."

[nightyelean]

FUCK: YES.

MOON (seemingly, probably, hopefully) FALLS FIRST

only the most dearest gratitude from your one and only charming anon, for gracing us with the literacy perfection that is the last few chapters.

On another note, (something i unfortunately forgot to mention in my previous comments towards your fic) as a raging demisexual, mere words cannot describe just how much the daycare attendant and minor side characters' lovely dynamic gives me life and a reason to refresh AO3 on a 4-5 hour basis (and under reluctant admission, quite obsessively so). the well developing friendships, lack of expressed emotional and physical attraction on borh ends towards individuals until further/stronger trust and friendship is established, generally just The Skrunklies being their goofy, complicated and mentally traumatized selves with eachother (eventually healing through their relationships and L word towards one another respectively maybe 👀),,, all the good stuff. not to mention the delicious, heart wrentching ANGST

You're a legend, truly

That's not to say anything else isn't just as valid. this twists my gut in the best way in particular personally is all. while other takes on relationships are perfect for others equally as much as yours is to my preferences, I don't happen to see the trope presented currently in your fic nearly as much in fandoms of all kindq. my fellow APHBC enthusiasts can have the ultimate, most grand slow burn as a treat I suppose (courtesy of you, ever so providing)

Additionally, screw you (affectionate). I recently picked up my loyal sophmore-age-old Kirkland grade drawing pencil and started up on sketching fan scribbles after years of it sitting in all its latent, pathetic glory in my cheap shitty art-designated notebook originally bought for chemistry class. my bröther in christ, I've literally spent hours dedicated to just one piece being my usual perfectionist (albeit, still amazing) self. every minor character, only relevant to the plot in order to drive the main leads to their evental destination in eachothers loving embrace, has their flaws. not to brag or anything ofc

TL:DR it'll probably be a hot minute till I aquire the mental fortitude strong enough to actually send it all to this blog

Anyways, this is getting much too long and I have a practice exam tomorrow to oh so eagerly look forward to. Come hither agony of the mental state and back pains for the next few days due to hunching over an uncomfortable desk for acopious amount of time. No need to overstay my welcome, though I'm sure my presence in itself is always a honor to all those graced with it

Stay safe and make sure to not strain yourself over the fic, or anything else in life really. don't let writing become a chore instead of an output for sun and moon induced passion(they jusg have that natural effect on people). I've seen too many part time aamazing writers-part time good people such as yourself fall into that state of mind, often due to mistreatment by certain readers who forget their place as mere observers to the masterpiece that is your works. there is no pressure to do this for anyone other than yourself, dear author. I also understand if you maybe also feel happy when others get comfort or enjoyment out of your works, but please don't let that be your only driving factor. true fans care about your wellbeing over frequent updates and such. I'm rambling again (please don't take this as trying to lecture you either. tell me to back off if that is how it is perceived, I don't know how to properly articulate my thoughts on this matter is all)

Again, no need to respond or read this long ass essay of an anonymous ask. take care in the real world and online. eat well, sleep well, live well; you know the drill :)

You

YOU

AaaaAA YOU’RE YOURE GONNA MAKE ME CRY. Dude IN THE MOST GENDER NEUTRAL WAY AAA U AND UR LONG ANON ASK.

First of all, hello the charming anon, as always like you said its a honor to have you here. you’re always welcome in my asks, just like everybody else.

ALSO. Ppl going silly because Moon is going to fall first— It makes me happy. I dont know how it happened but it happened, Moon might indeed be the first one👀 silly silly.

AND MY RAGING DEMISEXUAL FELLOW SAME SAME ME TOO. WELCOME. Honestly i sometimes wonder if i goofed this and wish that i wrote it better bcuz me also love this troupe. Me also want more. I want some real slowburn of friends to lovers kinda stuff. Pain.

AND AND AND IF YOU Y O U DREW SOMETHING YOU BETTER SEND ME. I WILL I WILL HOLD IT OH SO GENTLY LIKE. Even if its just Cloud being a stickman i want it. Please. *grabby hands* give give give give give give give gi

You never overstay ur welcome, friend! Please. I love,,, i love reading goofy long stuff. I am just like you fr, just writing whatever goes through my mind without any organization. I wish you lots of luck in your exam! Very yucks. You got it though🏃🏃 Seriously thank you for all your sweet words, I will indeed try to not push myself. Honestly like this is such a hyperfixation for me rn it makes me wanna post everyday, i need to physically hold myself to not to. Because I know if i do that one day i will be out of chapters ehdje😭 ANYWAYS AAA. Honestly I have no idea how this much ppl liked my silly stuff but!!! I appreciate it!! A LOT. I am seriously nothing but a silly clown, and i honk my red nose to you in an affectionate way. Please know that you can always come here to ramble! I am so ready to listen and chat, its funky. Do tell me if your exam goes good too! Have a nice day or night, you are such a lovely person. Sending Moon and Sun love to you, also me aka Nighty love. <3

[pxppinmolly-archived]

What are your favorite ships with Molly and why??

YES YEEEES I love to talk about these things because I’m a SAP!!!!!!!!!

Okay I definitely have more than just like ... “a few” because I have a lot of love in my heart just like Molly SO bear with me

My first EVER big Molly ship was Molly and Alastor. Honestly, never expected it, but it’s still one of my big comfort ships.

They both share similar time periods and love for old fashioned things! While, yes, Molly is a very promiscuous girl, she is still A CLASSY LADY! And it’s really funny the juxtaposition between her and Angel from his first impressions. On the topic of Angel - the amount of torment between the two of them when Molly and him are dating is hilarious. ALSO on top of how I headcanon Molly to be a cannibal who doesn’t realize it... Who better to awaken that than him? WITH that said, he is apparently a good cook and loves doing it. Molly loves to eat and has a never ending stomach. It’s perfect.

Also just like.. AESTHETICALLY?? They’re pleasant. The color palettes, the physicality, the overall time period aesthetic ... Love it love it.

Moving on!

Molly and Ozzie.

It’s apparent how much I love this ship. The way I’ll see gifs of Ozzie or him on the dash and I feel my inner Molly muse just go FERAL.

Ozzie and Molly fuckin VIBE, dude. THEY VIBE!!

The trope of ‘friends with benefits to lovers’ ... CHEF’S KISS!

Molly is already like besties with Fizz, and if you wanna go with her then working for him and her and fizz having a bit of a partnership and acts together and such ... It’s just very cute.

The idea of Ozzie learning and falling in love with Molly just makes me go EEEE

In turn, Ozzie makes Molly feel ... Happy.

LIKE. ESP in terms of if she’s working there. Molly finally is taking initiative in her life. She’s doing something she likes and is having fun with because SHE wanted to, and no one groomed her into doing it. She is doing something she is getting respect and proper attention toward. Her talents and work is being noticed and rewarded gratefully.

Like she never felt that before? And it’s just. Real nice.

And also being involved with someone where sex isn’t so much feeling like a coping mechanism or something she feels dirty/regrets about. It’s a positive sex environment and the acts of it are fun and just... Fun!! And just silly sometimes I imagine and just so respectful and also very fucking good.

And, of course, Molly being with any higher power muse is always fun teehee <3

MOLLY AND VERO.

COME ON PEOPLE. WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!

These two hot pink bitches who have tons of shitty exes and love and basically feed off sex in a metaphorical and literal sense who both also have heart motifs??

Like listen it’s so obvi Vero and Molly would get along so well.

Molly treating Vero like an actual Person rather than just.. Piece of Ass or Pop Star. She gives Vero that ground, that ‘safe space’, so to speak. In turn, Vero offering Molly a sense of confidence. Bringing out the light and shine into Molly’s dimming flame.

They’re girl best friends your honor.

Molly Husk.

Come on. COME OOOOOOOOOOOOOOON

LIKE ESP with the work Ghost and I did between their Husk and Molly?? I fucking LIVE Bro.

These two very damaged people, with damaged pasts, blood stained hands, millions of regrets, terrible coping habits that lead to self destruction, difficulties opening up to anyone about their issues ... Coming together and learning to love, and to heal, and to find acceptance and a Place with someone.

Molly’s patience with Husk, her love, her tenderness ... Having him slowly begin to open up to her. And, in turn, Molly slowly letting more vulnerability show with her, having Husk learn and quickly adapt into compassion and understanding and his own heart of gold shining through

God I live bitch I LIVE

Molly and Vox

You know the meme like “I can’t fix him but he can make me worse?” Yeah. <3 SODFIGJ

Esp like in regards w Toxic’s Vox which I usually default to. Like ... I LOVE me a good bastardization arc, okay.

I love Molly slowly (well it was a slippery slope and she took a sled lets be real-) indulging into greed and sadism. Not caring at all for the destruction, loss of innocent lives and tortured people ... She doesn’t care. She cares about what she can get and what makes her and Vox happy.

Molly’s growing selfishness and getting lost in her devotion and love to Vox, and in turn Vox growing soft on this bubbly, bright, pink spider? It tickles me it DOES

I love a ship where the big scary powerful mfer is soft and tender to their partner and NO ONE ELSE.

ALSO the drama between Angel and Val’s shit going on???? Like w Toxic’s Vox how he wants Angel dead. Angel’s death devastating Molly and causing her to spiral into a mental and emotional breakdown for who knows how long, BUT ... Now, Vox having closer to complete devotion of Molly, having her under his hand and him being one of her major pillars of support at the moment. More reason to make her entirely dependent on him ... Faux sympathy and consolation from him as he tries to comfort and dote after his lady after he was secretly the cause of her brothers demise

UGH its so messy I love it

BUT that’s all off the top of my head anyway? Or least ones I feel I can just RAMBLE  a lot about at this current time BUT yeah

Honestly I ship Molly w like 99 percent of the cast for HH/HB, the 1 percent mostly being those with conflicting orientations and or underage muses- APSDOFGKIJ

[noro-noro-noro]

definitely had some kind of dream. I don't really remember it anymore so I'm just dictating this in text to speech while I drive to work. sorry if this becomes absolutely long I'll fix it later.

anyway there was definitely something before this about like some kind of underground colony or like colony in a dark area and we were pushing through to a new area? it was blue or maybe purple. that's not the part I remember well at all though so it's whatever forget about that

but I do remember was me and either two other people or five other people for a total of four no if you're a total of three or maybe six. we were in some house with no roof or something like that? it was a kind of shitty wooden shack out in the forest but I did have a fire pit with a vent that let out in another room so we wouldn't all suffocate to death on the smoke. there were also holes in the ceiling, but like not holes from rotten wood or whatever like square holes like they were meant to be there. like a square hole in the ceiling and then the square hole in the ceiling above that one so just all the way up through the house for no real reason. we tried to cover it with blankets because it started hailing. actually. the hail was while we were exploring outside I think? we found out that this took place in an extension of my mom's neighborhood because you know when my dream really need place for anything to be it's always something to do with my mom's house cuz I grew up there. and yeah we were walking around looking for stuff and then it started snowing raining and hailing ebony darkness dementia Raven Way ear your fucking heart out I guess can this bitch get over I don't want to be behind this truck can you move so I can get over oh you asshole anyway yeah it was hailing we said a fire in the fireplace, and then someone's like I don't want to sit around the fireplace, I want to sit over in the corner, and they took the fire from the fireplace and put it on the floor and I was like NOOOO you canNOT be doing that. one of the guys was the dude that I met in the airport who also played deep Rock galactic, he's probably on my mind because you're get you guessed it I play deep Rock galactic with him a couple days ago anyway that's all