#of course he did not. now if he does tomorrow it's probably just to spite me for being mad at him for it

[nicksnosering]

I Hate Myself For Loving You Pt. 3

PT 1 PT 2

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The night air was cool and biting against the wetness trailing down my inner thighs, and I marveled in the freedom I felt from such an uncharacteristically bold move I’d made.

My phone buzzed in my purse, and I let it ring out three times before finally picking up on the fourth call.

I didn’t get the chance to say hello before I heard him yelling in my ear.

“What the fuck? You’re actually fucking kidding me. My brother? You’re disgusting. You’re actually the most despicable human being alive—“

He kept going for another few minutes until I heard the sound of him breathing angrily into the phone, signaling he was done.

“Alright, Chris. I’ll level with you. Yeah, maybe me hooking up with your brother wasn’t exactly the nicest thing I could’ve done, but you and I both know you’re not stupid enough to be confused about why I did it.”

My heels clicked against the sidewalk as I walked, punctuating my sentence for me. I’d never felt so liberated, so free, so—

“I hope it was worth it considering I’m never going to touch you again.”

My heart fell to my stomach.

Of course I’d wanted to make him mad. I’d wanted to see him seething, undeniably jealous and unable to hold back from admitting it any longer. He loved me the way I loved him, I know he did. Does.

With the alcohol still coursing through my system, my mouth opened before my brain could catch up, my words coming out far bolder than they’d usually be.

“I’d never want you to touch me again.”

He scoffed. “I’ll level with you,” he sneered, throwing my words back in my face. “Your slutty little ass can’t stay away for longer than a day, maybe two if you’re feeling especially bitchy right now. I need you to listen to me, because I’m only saying this once. I’m not coming back this time. When you call me crying because you realize how badly you fucked up, I can promise you I won’t pick up. So you better pray to God it was worth it, because I am not going to fuck you. Ever. Again.”

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat, my head swimming slightly as his words only really half sunk in. My eyes rolled and I shook my head as a grin crept its way onto my face.

“See you soon, Chris.”

——————

Once I was inside my front door, I kicked off my heels and headed straight for bed, not bothering to get out of my dress or take off my makeup. Tonight was exhausting, and I could already feel the headache starting to come on, signaling a raging hangover in the morning.

I’d almost been asleep when my phone started buzzing again. My heart lurched, shocked that he’d given up so quickly and was already reaching back out.

Except it wasn’t him. 

“Hello?” I said, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Hey,” Matt breathed out. “I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. I couldn’t find you anywhere when I went back downstairs, so I assume you and your friends must’ve left.”

I smiled softly and warmth spread throughout my body. “Yeah, I’m home. Thank you for checking, that’s really sweet of you. Did you make it back okay?”

“Yeah, walking through my front door now. I’m sorry again about Chris, he’s not usually that…”

“Intense?” I supplied.

“We’ll go with that. Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in on you. I also wanted to say that I had a great time tonight, and I’d love to see you again if you’re up for it.”

The gears in my mind started turning, still feeling half-tipsy and fully spiteful. “Actually, I’m off work tomorrow, and I’ll probably be up for a few more hours anyway. You’re welcome to come over and continue the party here.”

“Oh,” he said, an air of surprise to his tone. “Um, yeah. That sounds good. Text me your address?”

“See you soon.”

I sent over the details and swiftly threw off the covers, climbing out of bed and heading straight for the bathroom. My reflection was rough. There was eyeliner smudged in rings around my eyes, and my hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days. 

When I heard the first knock at the door, I’d managed to wash my face and get my hair under control, swapping my dress for some sweatpants and a tank top in an effort to look sexily indifferent.

I swing the door open to reveal Matt, still dressed in the same clothes he was in at the party. I suppress a grin at the thought of him rushing out of the door after our phone call and step aside to let him in.

“Hey,” he says, a soft smile on his face as he steps through the threshold into my apartment.

“Hey,” I respond. 

He follows me into the kitchen, and I pull a bottle of cheap vodka out of the fridge, setting it on the counter as I look for two shot glasses. “Feel like keeping up the buzz?” I call over my shoulder.

“Oh, always.”

I pour us two shots and we both slam them quickly, shivering as the rubbing alcohol taste sets in. “Sorry, I only buy the cheap shit.”

“All good,” he smiles, stacking our empty shot glasses and leaning forward on the countertop. “This is a nice place.”

I glance around at my cheap one-bedroom apartment, taking in the chipping paint on the walls and the out of date shag carpet that’s peeling up at the corners of the living room. I turn back to him with a raised eyebrow. “No it’s not. This place is a shithole.”

He laughs loudly, raising his shoulders in apology. “Sorry, just trying to break the ice and make conversation. It was the first thing that came to mind.” 

“Real smooth,” I tease, circling the countertop and coming to stand next to him. “Who says we need conversation?”

He takes my not-so-subtle hint, wrapping his arms around my waist and giving me a gentle smile before leaning in and softly capturing my lips with his own.

Matt could not be more different from his brother. Chris is all rough grabs and harsh teeth and aiming to get to his end goal, whereas Matt is more soft touches and gentle kisses and putting your needs before his own.

I can’t help but wonder if there’s a way to meet in the middle.

His tongue lightly traces over my neck, placing a soft kiss just below my ear before sucking gently, like he’s scared to leave a mark. My fingers come up to wind into his hair, pulling gently and reveling in the low moan he produces before sucking a little harder.

I inhale sharply when he leans back and blows, the cool air sending a rush of goosebumps down my spine. His hand starts slipping lower on my body, finding the waistband of my sweats and pushing inside. His fingers swirl over the crotch of my panties, and he pushes them aside to rub lightly over my clit, the sensation sparking all of my nerve ending and causing me to arch forward into his touch.

“Fuck, Matt,” I whisper as I dip my head and rest it against his shoulder, gripping his bicep to ensure his arm stays in place. He takes it a sign to speed up, fingers brushing exactly where they need to, and I let out a small whine, wrapping my arm around the back of his neck and entangling my hand in the soft hairs there.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” he whispers back, and he slips forward and sinks two fingers into me quickly, pumping them in and out at a slow pace, fingers crooking in the perfect spot with every thrust. 

I can hear myself panting and moaning loudly as he works, and I look up and make eye contact, taken completely aback by his features.

There’s a soft smile on his face and a caring light in his eyes, and he just looks so… soft. Like he gives a fuck how I’m feeling. If this is good for me. It’s overwhelming and devastating all at once, and I can’t stop myself from thinking that this must be how Chris would look if he let down his guard and was fully open with me.

My heart twinges painfully in my chest, and I feel slightly guilty for still comparing the two when I should be solely focused on Matt, but these past five months of emotional torture that Chris has been putting me through are embedded in my brain. I can’t seem to separate the two of them no matter how hard I try.

Another precise curl of his fingers causing me to come soaring back to reality, and I lean in to kiss him again, needing to feel his emotions rather than seeing them. The kiss is sloppy, breaking apart each time I pant or moan again, and he moves to place small kisses on my cheek, on my eyelid, on my forehead.

Just as I feel like I’m about to burst into tears from the sheer kindness of his actions, he pulls out and grabs the back of my thighs, picking me up and placing another small kiss on my lips. “Bedroom?” he asks.

“Through the living room, to the right.”

He caries me through my apartment, pushing open the door with his knee and walking inside before laying me gently on the bed. His hands slide down to the waistband of my sweats again, and he hooks two fingers inside, glancing up at me for confirmation. I nod gently and he slides them off my body along with my underwear before climbing onto the bed with me. He hovers over me and reaches up to remove my shirt, leaving me bare and exposed in front of him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, running his hands along my body in a way that’s far from sexual. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, trying to memorize every curve and dip and the softness of my skin. Like he’s praising me. Worshipping me.

I can’t take it any longer, and I yank his shirt over his head and reach down to tear open the button on his jeans, but his hands come down to stop me. I look up in question, and he laughs a little. “Slow down, sweetheart. We don’t need to rush through this, I want to take my time.”

The air leaves my body at his words, watching in a daze as he slides his pants and boxers off in one fluid motion. He leans back over me, head ducking down and tongue flicking out lightly over my nipple. I shiver and moan slightly as he slides his way down to between my thighs, and immediately sets to work lapping at my clit. His fingers come back up to slide into me and my hand flies down to his hair, gripping it tightly as I arch my back off the bed.

“God, yes. That feels so good,” I whine, digging my heels into the bed and scooting forward, trying to push him further inside me. His fingers begin to scissor slightly, and I feel my legs start to shake, so close to the edge but refusing to let myself fall over it yet. “Matt, please. Please, I need you inside me.”

His head pops up and a grin overtakes his face at my begging, but his fingers continue to work inside of me, twisting and arching and making me fall apart beneath him. He pulls them out and rubs slow, lazy circles over my core, watching me intensely. “You sure?”

“Yes, fuck. Please, Matt,” I say, moving my hand to his shoulder and trying to pull him up. He stays rooted where he is and gives me a wink, maintaining eye contact as he leans down and licks a flat stripe over me again. 

It’s almost too much, and I let out a mix of a whine and a whimper, trying to pull back. His hands hook under my thighs, pulling me closer and keeping me firmly where I am. He blows again, the rush of air breezing over my clit and I feel my stomach muscles tense. “Matt,” I whine again.

“Okay, okay.” He relents, pulling himself up to settle over me. I feel his tip pressing against my entrance and he leans down, placing another kiss on my forehead before pushing in slowly. I gasp at the feeling, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist and arching up to try to take him in more. “Slow, baby. I want you to feel it all.”

I can’t even form words at this point, utterly wrecked under him from the anticipation. I feel each slow, excruciating inch push in until he’s settled at the hilt, and he pulls back out just as slow before sliding back in. I’ve never been treated so tenderly, and I feel simultaneously too cold and too hot with the way his gaze trails over my face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, continuing his gentle pace. “Just like that.”

I finally give in, relaxing my entire body and simply allowing myself to feel. His head drops down to nestle against my neck, switching between light sucking and simply pressing his lips there, and I hear my phone buzz on my nightstand. He doesn’t pay it any mind, and I reach over to find Chris’s contact name lighting it up.

I knew he’d give in.

I ignore the text and opt for calling him instead, discarding my phone back on my nightstand as it rings. I watch the screen go black, signaling he picked up, and wrap my arms around Matt’s neck.

“Fuck, Matt. You feel so good,” I moan.

“You sound so pretty, baby. Keep saying my name,” he responds, picking up speed with his thrusts. 

My body arches up into his and I pull his hair slightly, making him groan and dig his fingers into my hips. “Harder, Matt, please,” I choke out, turning to suck a spot onto his neck. The thought of him going home and Chris seeing it fuels me along with his noises, and he starts to pound into me mercilessly. 

I’m holding on by a thread, and I can feel his legs shaking, a clear signal that he is too. “Cum for me, Matt,” I moan, and we both unravel together, my high-pitched whining turning into a near scream as he mumbles sweet words into my ear.

“Fuck, yes. God, I could stay here forever,” he says, nipping at my earlobe as we both come down. “Your body is so perfect. You’re so beautiful.”

I lean up and press our lips together, sealing his words into my mouth. We lay intertwined, sweaty and panting, and he rubs light circles over my back as his other hand runs its fingers through my hair. I’ve never felt so content after sex, and it’s a feeling I could quickly get used to.

I lean over to check my phone screen and see the call has ended, as well as six new text messages having come in. I flip it over and cuddle back into Matt, placing light kisses on his torso as we start to drift into sleep together.

Chris can wait.

[toastyeverlark]

“And our top student this year is…Peeta Mellark!”

Peeta Mellark. It’s always Peeta Mellark. Peeta. Freaking. Mellark. Of course it is. When is it not?

It used to be me…Katniss Everdeen, until he transferred here.

Finnick nudges me playfully. “Wow, Katniss. Looks like you’re never going to catch up to him.”

I shoot a dirty look at Finnick. I don’t know why I still have him as a friend if he’s always getting on my nerves. He knows how annoyed I can get when it comes to Peeta, and yet he likes to bring him up just to spite me.

“We’ve never spoken to him before,” Finnick says to me as I’m putting my things away in my locker.

“So?”

“Do you think he’s nice? I’ve heard people say he’s really nice.”

“Yeah, and you thought I was mean because everyone was saying that about me.”

Finnick tries to hide his smile. “Well, they’re not really wrong about that.”

I elbow him and he backs away, laughing. “See? Proves their point.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s probably a jerk, and really snobby and overly confident. They’re always like this whenever they get good grades. Besides, he doesn’t…look bad, so they’ll definitely be crazy over him, which will make it ten times worse. His ego is going to explode. It probably already has.”

“You get good grades and you’re not like that,” Finnick says a little half-heartedly. He’s looking over at something.

I scoff. “Yeah, thanks.”

“He’s coming over,” he frantically nudges me.

“What? Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“What? I don’t have a boyfriend - ”

I turn around and come face-to-face with Peeta Mellark.

“Glad to hear that you don’t have one,” he smiles. He’s got one of the most genuine smiles I’ve ever seen. Maybe this is where the ‘Mr Nice’ persona comes from. His smile makes him seem like the purest person in the world. I don’t like it.

“Why are you talking to me?” I frown.

“I’ve been waiting for the chance to talk to you ever since I heard about you.”

“Well, congratulations.”

“You’re Katniss, right? I’m Peeta. Mellark. I’m not sure if you already knew,” he looks at Finnick and smiles again. “Hi, you must be Finnick.”

“Unfortunately I did. Is there anything else?”

He looks slightly disappointed. “Oh, no…I was just wondering - never mind. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” I manage to say before I take Finnick’s hand and walk off.

“Katniss,” he yanks his hand out of my grasp when we’re out of sight. “Why were you being so mean to him? This is the first time someone from the male population has taken an interest in you other than me, and I don’t even think you’re that interesting anymore.”

“Why would he talk to me for no reason? He’s never talked to me until today. He’s got to have some ulterior motive. I don’t need to be nice to him.”

“He’s clearly interested in you.”

“Yeah, interested in how he can get to know me so that he can take advantage of it to continue doing better than me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to study for tomorrow’s test. Try not to fail, because I’m not going to tutor you again.”

“At least I’m not a complete loser when it comes to romance. At this rate, I’m gonna have to marry you.”

This makes me laugh out loud. “What makes you think that?”

“Because if you’re always going to be mean, you’ll need someone who’s okay with your meanness. At the moment, no one’s okay with that but me.”

“You’ll need someone who’s okay with how annoying you are, too. I’m not the only one with a problem, Finnick.”

“I guess we both have problems.”

—

“Hi. Katniss.”

I look up from my laptop. It’s him again.

“What do you want, Peeta?”

He smiles and scratches the back of his head.

“Are you studying?”

“I don’t see why you need information on that.”

“Oh. Well, I was wondering if you mind…the other seats in the library are all taken.”

Why does he have to ask me? He could’ve asked anyone, especially since he’s so popular. They would be tripping over themselves to give up their seats for him.

Fine. I’m not going to fight with him for a seat.

“Alright then. I’ll get going.”

“No, no, Katniss, wait. I don’t mean it like that. You don’t have to go. I…wanted to ask if I could share the table with you.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been here for over four hours anyway,” I start gathering my things and shoving them in my backpack.

He stands there without another word, and only mutters a ‘bye’ when I leave.

“I saw that.”

I stagger backwards to avoid bumping into Finnick.

“You scared me. Can you stop popping out of the ground like that?”

“You need to take a hint, Katniss,” he says in exasperation while crossing his arms. “Peeta wants to talk to you.”

“I don’t care.”

“You need to stop being so bitter just because he does better than you, you know. He has never offended you and definitely doesn’t deserve you being so mean to him.”

I have to admit, hearing Finnick say that makes me feel a sense of guilt for all the times I grumbled about Peeta getting better grades and stealing the title of valedictorian from me. Maybe all this while, I have been the problem.

—

“Hi Katniss.”

I’m starting to recognise his voice now.

“Hi, Peeta.” This time, I choose to give him a smile. Just out of politeness. His already bright eyes seem to brighten even more when I do that.

“The other seats are taken…again. I was wondering if I could join you?”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll go. You can have the table to yourself.”

“No, I really would like for you to - okay. I’ve got an extra cup of coffee though. You can have it.”

He places a brown paper cup on the table.

“I only take caramel macchiatos, sorry.”

“It is a caramel macchiato,” Peeta smiles. That smile again. For some reason, it makes me feel a little weird inside. If there was a contest, he would’ve won hands-down for having the nicest looking smile.

“Oh. It’s okay. I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that,” he pushes the cup nearer to me. “I got the wrong order. I wouldn’t have drank it anyway.”

I look at him doubtfully, and he edges it closer towards me.

“Please?” he looks me in the eye when he says this, and I have to look away.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll…get going.”

Maybe Peeta Mellark really isn’t that bad.

[minx1o]

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 ᶠᵗ ʳⁱⁿ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇʟᴜᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀɪɴ ɢᴇɴᴜɪɴᴇʟʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴄᴀᴅᴇ ᴀɢᴏ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴀ ʀɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴀʀᴍꜱ.

ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ’ꜱ ꜱᴏɴɢ: ꜰᴏᴏʟɪꜱʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪʟʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴀꜰꜰᴀɪʀꜱ

ᴀ/ɴ: ʏᴀ’ʟʟ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʏ/ɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱᴛɢ (ꜱʜᴇ’ꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴅᴇʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ɪᴛꜱ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴɪɴɢ) ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ꜰᴏᴏʟɪꜱʜ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ɪᴛ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀ ʟɪʟ (ᴏʙꜱᴄᴇɴᴇʟʏ) ᴅᴇʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴇʜᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴡ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴜɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴅᴇʜᴏᴇ <33

rin itoshi isn’t a good person.

because if he was, he wouldn’t be here right now

sleeping ever so soundly beside you as if everything was okay, his face contorts every now and then, as if  he’s having quite the adventure in his dreams. You cant help the smile that’s creeping in your face. he’s right here, and he’s yours.

For now

Your smile drops into a small frown as you feel the weight of reality against you.

How dare you feel happy about fooling around with what’s not yours.

Suddenly, you feel everything- the sound of his breathing, the banging of your heart, the tiny drops of rain hitting your window, the suffocating sensation of your naked body against his cotton blanket, the cold hand that rests unmoving against your waist, and the torturous guilt that swallows your soul in every second.

you sometimes question how on earth he can lay around leeching onto you as if he cant feel the weight of the cold metallic ring on his finger

you try to reason that it was an arranged marriage and that it was fine

but it in fact, of course- wasn’t fine

however, in spite of knowing that what you have is wrong- your love reigns over your morals either way.

Your love, only yours. Because this man clearly doesn’t give two shits about your existence.

You were simply the only one brave and attractive enough to be sneaking with him unbeknownst to his wife.

You met him way before he was even totally serious about football, you were childhood friends who spent almost everyday together, until you had to leave to study abroad. Tears brim your eyes as you enter your dad’s car on your way to the airport, he stares at you from his bedroom window as you wave your hand to him.

Back then he promised you he would wait for you.

It was like an unofficial confession- one that you clung onto for the next 7 years you spent on another country.

And yet you return only to find out he hadn’t waited for you at all.

You talked it over and figured why would we let a piece of paper determine who on earth we love?

Or at least that’s what you thought.

Because it’s been weeks since he’s reached out to you. Boredom overcomes every blood vessel within you as you scroll through your tiktok like how you have for the past 3 hours.

Your eyes widen as you see an edit of a familiar figure; holding an umbrella over this gorgeous girl. He’s holding a gold-chained purse that obviously didn’t belong to him as he opened the door of his car for her.

He was just being nice

He doesn’t love her-

But who are you to complain? If he was in love, what’s it to you? What gives you the right to act all jealous?

He never said he loved you did he?

Well then, its probably because he doesn’t.

A voice ringing in your head invades your entire consciousness.

Did you actually expect for him to love you?

If he did, he wouldn’t keep you so hidden, would he?

If he loved you then her name shouldn’t be the one he’s screaming to the world.

Your screen fades to black- snapping you back to reality. You open your contacts and clicks his name.

It takes a few seconds to ring when he finally picked up.

“What? You didn’t tell me you were calling, Sumi almost saw your nickname”

“Oh yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, I was just wondering why you haven’t shown up lately”

“I’ve just been busy, I’ll probably be coming over tomorrow, I’ll update you frequently”

So he’s just busy after all

You secretly breathe a sigh of relief

So he does love me, rin has never been good with words, but if he really loved her, he would cut off all contacts with me. You were trying to convince yourself- as delusional as it sounds, it didn’t matter,  it soothed your soul either way

“Oh okay, see you”

You end the call with a smile on your face

Actually, rin has had a lot of affairs before- but you’re convinced that what you and him have is different.

Out of all those girls, I was the only one he promised to love.

Not her, me

Just as promised, he shows up at your doorstep, umbrella in hand. His eyes glisten through the rainwater stuck on his lashes. He puts his coat down as he takes a step towards you- wrapping you with his cold hands.

No words were exchanged between you- just knowing looks and meaningful glances. But you cherish these moments despite it being so empty, because you know that when you wake up tomorrow, he wont be here to hold you anymore.

You’ve been through this a few hundred times- you indulge in the moment while it lasts, this empty and hollow connection is somehow the best part of your existence. And once again, there he is; in all his glory; delicate eyes flutter under the moonlight.

There are a lot of things you don’t know, but one thing you do know is that this may be a sin, and maybe one day, when you’re all grown up and matured, you will look back at these past memories with a disgusted face but that doesn’t matter because for now this is the purest form of love to you. You know he doesn’t love you, but if being an idiot is what it takes to have him near- you were willing to be an absolute delusional fool.

[itwoodbeprefect]

ooh there's so many good questions in that writers list. ummmmm 10, 18, 22, 59, 74

10. Cltr+f “blinks” on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

with a previous answer i did this for the starsky & hutch wips, so i'll do it for h50 now, which brings options. the main document with more or less Everything in it has 12 blinks, a flip-flop state of mind has 4 (though those have all already been posted), and sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola (which is, despite appearances, not dead) has 7, one of which is this one, from the aftermath of my gratuitous surf buddies scene rewrite ("“That’s so cute,” Mary says, while she accepts the coffee. She’s smiling, and Steve looks happy and clueless and good enough to eat, and Danny is, quite frankly, insulted."):

When he crosses the doorway he’s indignant, but by the time he’s hopping up on the kitchen counter there’s a nasty doubt creeping in. “Hey, look, we are more than just surf buddies, right? I’m not reading this whole thing wrong?” Steve has his head in the fridge, but at this he closes it without taking anything out. He turns to Danny and blinks. “Of course we are. We’re-” He predictably gets stuck right there, because they haven’t said anything like that out loud before. “Partners,” is what he settles for.

also, oh my god, that's 23 mcdanno blinks. brb editing out these people's twitching eyelids.

-

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

answered this one here!

-

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

ooh, interesting! and i'm leaning towards no, because i have very few hard boundaries with fiction. there are definitely things i'd be very unlikely to ever write, but there's very little i feel sure about ruling out completely. i'm not responsible (yet) for what tomorrow me thinks would be a good idea, and i only very recently had the experience of watching a show (one of the thai ones, predictably) that got me SO annoyed i had to grab myself by the back of my own shirt and forcibly yank myself back from attempting to rewrite the entire plot of a lazy thing about which i liked practically nothing, not even the characters. so i guess that's one thing i AM trying to actively avoid, and hope for future me's sake she won't be doing either: writing some giant project purely out of spite for a media property i don't enjoy. (peace and love, girl.) beyond that, i don't know! chances are vanishingly slim, but maybe i'll suddenly decide i have a great take on mpreg omegaverse deathfic tomorrow.

-

59. Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

oh, yes! all my friends i think, my sister, my parents - though my parents wouldn't know where to find it, probably, and i wouldn't mind keeping it that way. i don't mind telling people, it's just that i also don't necessarily enjoy explaining (and defending) the concept of fanfic to random non-fanfic people, so it depends on the situation.

-

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

also already answered this one, here. clearly people agree you picked the best questions!

-

Get to know your fic writer! 🔎

[aajjks]

choice!JK

despite the year-gap its been since minho has stayed at jungkook’s, his clothes still fit him. you were shocked to see his room was untouched; all his toys, games, and bedroom design were all still in place. it felt as if minho never left and he easily became accustomed to his familiar bedroom.

you made sure to help minho with his homework while mrs. min cooked something for him. of course dinner with minho was always endearing until you found out about his behavior. of course you scolded minho for misbehaving in your absence but he insisted that won’t misbehave again now that you both are together again.

turns out jungkook was right. minho made things a lot more lighter in the huge house. because of the 6-year old, mrs. min got to hear your sweet voice a lot more than usual and after 8 long days of neglecting food, you finally put something on your stomach.

mrs. min happily reported the good news to jungkook who seemed serious about feeding you through a tube to keep you from starving yourself but now that minho’s here, she and jungkook are sure you’ll take better care of yourself.

at 8:30, you put minho to bed after he took his bath but since he’s afraid of the dark you made sure to turn his nightlight on before shutting his door. “night min~” whisper as you head to your room but on this particular night, you find it hard to let sleep succumb you. to pass the time, you take a bath, do your nightly routine, and head downstairs to watch a movie or two.

by the time you finished the first movie, it was 9:15. once the second one ended it was 10 o’clock but still, you didn’t feel sleepy. because you’re prohibited from going outside, you walk around jungkook’s large mansion and take in all the expensive decorations around the house.

polished marble floors, glass chandeliers, you can’t believe he used to live in this huge house alone. not that you care! it’s just, strange. you could never live in a place this big by yourself yet here you are living in this huge house except you’re with minho and—

you hear keys jingling at the door and quickly, you sprint for your bedroom to pretend to be asleep. just as jungkook walks in the large house, you slam your bedroom door shut and throw the covers over you, pretending to be asleep.

you hear his footsteps heading upstairs but he bypasses your room. you gasp ‘he’s going in minho’s room!’ in a panic, you grab your shoe, ready to hit it over his head for hurting your younger brother.

but when you tiptoe closer to minho’s room and take a peek through the cracked door, all you see is jungkook making sure his nightlight is on. the gesture could mean so little to someone yet it means a lot to you. jungkook could be petty and turn it off to spite you, instead, he makes sure it’s on because he knows minho is scared of the dark. he did buy the nightlight, after all.

you’re so caught up with admiring jungkook’s small act that you don’t even notice him coming towards you and when he does, the first thing he sees is you with a shoe in your hand.

“sorry, i uh, ehem. i thought you were up to no good”

“Oh wow- how romantic yn.” He laughs, scoffing at you.

But can he blame you? “I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, carefully walking out of Minho’s bedroom to make his way into his own.

He knows that talking to you will do no good because you’re still pissed at him but he cannot help but think about trying to actually ask you about it.

Jungkook scratches the back of his head, his eyes a little red. “Hey yn… I have to go to a party tomorrow- for a drug deal.” He says, without any filter or hesitation because now you know everything so he might as well just suck it up.

Of course you’re going to say no- reject him, but he’s gotta try at least. So he intakes, before opening his mouth. “Would you like to accompany me? I mean it’s okay you can say no- you’re probably going to but..”

He’s currently fantasizing about hearing a yes from your mouth.

“Would you…?” He says with curiosity. This could be good for the both of you- but he’s not hoping for anything, “it would be fun.”

[noirineverysense]

I posted 1,160 times in 2022

That's 708 more posts than 2021!

180 posts created (16%)

980 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@winedark-whump

@noirineverysense

@for-the-love-of-angst

@straight-to-the-pain

@painful-pooch

I tagged 995 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#acp - 60 posts

#reblog - 25 posts

#352 is a good boy - 22 posts

#thanks for the ask!! - 21 posts

#351 not so much - 21 posts

#🥺🥺🥺 - 16 posts

#bbu - 16 posts

#whumpmasinjuly - 15 posts

#pet whump - 15 posts

#febuwhump2022 - 14 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#'whose pain is normalized as acceptable and ultimately invisibilized versus whose pain is considered extraordinary or spectacle' yes

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

It was the little things, really, that she hated. He tortured her of course, but what she really couldn't take was the way he stretched after, like he had done anything strenuous. The way he ate in front of her, not the fact that he did, but instead how his mouth made stupidly loud noises and exaggerated shapes just from eating a sandwich. She hated how he grinned, teeth crooked and lips cracked. It's strange, she'd always found a crooked smile charming, now she just wants to break his jaw.

He would leave her and it felt like a breath of sorely missed fresh air, but then she would hear his heavy footsteps above her. She would hear the occasional laugh or heavy sigh and she would imagine suffocating him until he couldn't do either. She could even hear his bed creak when he settled in for the night, groaning loud under his weight. She would sleep too, except he had alarms set randomly throughout the night. She doesn't know if it's specifically designed to keep her up or if he just doesn't know about the incessant noise that mixed with his grunting snores. Because of course he wouldn't wake up to them. No, he would wake up at around 10 am the next day and he would walk down the steps to start the day with a new torture device to try out. He promised a bat tomorrow, to break her kneecaps.

She would break every bone in his body if she could, all 206, then go back to break them all again.

She hated him and the only thing keeping her going was her burning, festering spite.

28 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

#4

More robot whumpee!

Febuwhump day 16 - "Does it hurt?"

@dragyouthroughthewhump

Part 1 Part 2

“Does it hurt?”

Whumpee lets out a scream as the tool prods around their chest, their heart had been replaced by a battery, but there were still various vessels and organs that still felt the cool metal jabbing into them.

“Yes, Yes! Please it’s too much! Stop, no!”

Whumper frowned, putting his screwdriver back into his lab coat pocket.

“Well, it shouldn’t. Pain is useless to a robot like yourself. I thought I had removed all of your pain receptors by now.

Whumpee sobs from where they were, on a table that was starting to fill with deep red blood. If they were still completely human, they probably would have died by now.

--

“Does it hurt?”

“Please, please stop.”

“But does it hurt?”

The android’s eyes fill with dark, oily liquid, a cheap imitation of the teary eyes of a human.

“N-No. No it doesn’t.”

“And do you know why?”

“Because I-I’m a robot. I don’t feel pain because it’s not useful to the ones I serve.”

The robot gets a pat on the head. It doesn’t feel that either.

--

“Does it hurt?”

There’s silence. The machine continues to whir, the robot’s lets out a beep as it emptied out some trash before continuing its various cleaning tasks.

Whumper sighs before taking a break on his office chair, watching his robot work with efficiency and without making silly human errors.

Once it had done all its selected tasks, it powered down, it’s glowing eyes now dull. The whirring now silenced. But if you looked closely, you could make out the frozen expression of horror and despair.

36 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

#3

@febuwhump alt 2 - trapped under a collapsed building

He holds it still, strong and steady. The large piece of rubble ready to collapse and kill them all, he keeps it in the air, above them.

His team huddle by his feet. The youngest, closest to him, looks up at him, watching, with fear and adoration dancing in their eyes.

The techie is trying to establish communications, to call for help. She keeps yelling into a small box, hoping for a sign that someone is listening, that someone is coming for them. She doesn’t look up at him, not once. He only ever sees the top of her covered head. She somehow knows that he’s not going to let it drop on her, on any of them.

He locks eyes on his second-in-command whose foot was trapped under rubble. He twists his body to hold on to the youngest, hugging them tight and using his body as a shield if the rubble were to come down. He knew that their leader wasn’t superhuman, just a man with muscles that could tire even if his will didn’t break.

His arms start to shake with the strain, his muscles twitching and aching. The enormous weight he carries on his shoulders and neck, threatens to crush him at any second. He feels his legs start to bend and give out. With a groan he straightens them anyway.

The tech’s voice gets louder still, disturbing some small parts of rubble and dust. She was getting a response finally as she gave their location and other details. The words fall out of her mouth at an accelerated rate until it stops suddenly. After a pause, she looks up at him finally, eyes wide with fear and flinching when some pebbles dropped beside her.

“They said two hours.”

He winces as his second-in-command groans out. The youngest lets out a whimper and holds the other man tighter.

The tech gasps suddenly when parts of the large piece break off beside her. She gets ushered closer to them as tears slip out of her eyes.

He can’t find his voice so he mouths at her instead.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m not gonna let it drop, alright? You’re safe, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

She nods before huddling with the other two. The leader lets out a small strained sound as he holds the rubble further from their heads.

The second-in-command looks up, eyes creased with worry. “I wish I could help you.” He says simply. He tries to pull his leg out but only lets out a moan in pain for his efforts. The two beside him hold him tighter.

“It’s okay. I’ve got this.”

He has got this. He can hold this piece of rock up. For 2 hours. 120 minutes. 7200 seconds.

Every painful second dragged longer than it felt like it should. His arms were bent and locked in place, his fingers were splayed and numb, he couldn’t feel the roughness of the stone anymore. He couldn’t feel his legs. The only sensation was a throbbing pain, emanating deep in him and an ache in his bones that begged his mind to let them rest.

He feels his arms start to give so he looks back at his, huddled and scared and strength surges through him again. He’s not going to let them down. He promised them he’s going to keep this thing up. So he will.

The minutes tick by in silence, his left arm starts to weaken and the large rubble begins to slide down from the left before he catches it again, just above the tech’s head. He gives a hoarse apology before continuing his duty.

He guesses it’s been about thirty minutes since his tech had made a call and nods to her. She gets the signal and tries to make contact again. It’s a few scary moments of just static before a voice crackles out of the small device.

“We’ll be with you shortly, hold on.”

“How long?” the tech asks tersely.

His sore muscles tense during some muttering before an answer.

Please don’t be longer.

“About 30-40 minutes. Please hold on until then.”

He sighs in relief, that’s less time than he expected. He has no excuse not to hold the rock up until then.

His body aches in protest. He has no idea how he can hold it up for another thirty minutes, likely more. He doesn’t have a choice. He tries to adjust his grip but the position ends up being even more painful and he lets out a hiss.

The team look up at him for a moment, he gives a single nod.

I’m fine. I have to be.

Every minute seemed to drag on for eternity. He lets out a growl and shifts to hold the slipping piece of rock. Exhaustion starts to weigh in him, his shoulders, arms, back and neck screaming at him to let go. He can’t. He licks his dry lips and tries to blink away the black dots in his vision.

See the full post

46 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

#2

You are 100% correct that there is a lack of POC representation in the whump community on Tumblr. However, part of the reason for this is because when white content creators try to interact with characters that are POC, they are often told that they shouldn't. That they shouldn't try to write for POC or even draw fanart of them etc. etc. because they aren't a part of that character's culture and shouldn't be trying to represent it.

So unfortunately, its a double-edged sword. Content creators are told to stick with what they know, so they do.

Also, quite frankly, can you imagine the uproar if a white person created a POC whumpee? If they created an OC who was black, and then proceeded to just have the OC treated awfully, tortured, kept as a slave (like any other whumpee OC that's ever been created.) I just don't see that going over well.

So unfortunately, the creation of content for POC characters is going to have to be done by POC content creators. There is really no way around that.

Anon i couldnt disagree more

Okay firstly POC arent a monolith, we're like the majority of people on earth so some might disagree with me and thats fine. But personally and to the other POC i've talked to, we want to be represented! We didnt come to whumpblr to be forced to relate to white people experiences. I'd happily say the majority of poc do want white people to write us bc like youre the majority here. And specifically in whump, if poc didnt like whump about us, we wouldnt be here. We're not here for white people, we're here for oursleves. We like whump, we here bc we like torture or comfort or pet whump or whatever. We're not here for white people to take inspiration from our irl suffering and use it for their white characters while we cheer them on.

Also like white people have written and drawn characters/whumpees that arent white lol, and there hasnt been that uproar. Also what uproar, there arent that many of us, are white people going to attack you? Why do you care about their opinions on poc? I think this idea of white people being under attack if they write poc is overblown and makes no sense.

Imo stick to what you know is dumb, like most of us dont know what its like to be tortured, yet we're all willing to do often intensive research. Yet we won't put that same energy into characters of colour?

Theres definitely nuance, I would be uncomfortable with a black character as a domestic pet for a white character that was written by a white person for example. Depends on how the writer handles it, but yeah theres nuance but that doesnt mean no poc ever can be written by white people. Like is research into anti racism and culture/stereotypes necessary, yes. But only poc writing characters of colour or #own voices, means our stories barely if ever get written. It leads to spaces that structurally white without any white person even doing the basics of trying to include poc. Also not every poc has a culture massively different to white people.

Like ofc poc writing poc is the goal, but to get there we need to make an inclusive space and that involves white people writing poc, sorry its true.

76 notes - Posted September 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Whumpblr ask game - opinions

1. What do you like about whumpblr? What do you dislike about it?

2. Who's your favourite OC?

3. Favourite trope?

4. Do you prefer romance or platonic relationships in writing?

5. What do you think draws people to your stories?

6. What do you like about writing on tumblr?

7. What don't you like about writing on tumblr?

8. What do you like about whump?

9. Any unpopular opinions on tropes or whump in general?

10. What made you want to write your wips?

80 notes - Posted July 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[joel-brooks]

Location: Joel’s home Phone call: Joel x Lily Mentions: @lorixbrooks

Joel: “You didn’t,” he snorts.

Lily: “You bet I fuckin’ did, she was being mean to the love of my life.” 

Joel: “Ah, I see. And this love of your life is still the very straight, mysterious Rayanne from chem class, huh?”

Lily: “What is it they say, dad? Even spaghetti bends when you get it wet.” Lily cackles, crude as ever. “Anyway, what’s wrong? Have you got your days mixed up? You’re usually drunk dialling me to uber you and one of the boys a big pizza, but you sound like you’re alone?”

Joel: “Christ,” he rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with a light chuckle, all too used to her over sharing her thoughts to find anything that came out of her mouth a surprise. “Am I not allowed to have a night off, kid? I am gettin’ old, y’know?” He’s smiling, but it’s a sad smile, knowing where he was about to take this conversation.

Lily: “Dad…” A firmer tone.

Joel: “Daughter,” a chuckle, followed by a quiet sigh as he sits forward. Putting the phone on speaker to lay on the table in front, he takes a generous swig of his whiskey. “I gotta talk to you. I’m gonna come visit you tomorrow if you’re free?”

Lily: “I’m—No, I mean, yes you can visit me but tell me why?” Her voice grows higher in pitch, panicking already as only a daughter would. “Don’t argue with me. Or tell me some bullshit about needing to tell me face to face, just tell me now or I’m getting in my car and driving home.”

Joel: Dropping his head into his hands, he noted his mistake the second he heard the fear in her voice. Of course she was going to freak out, and true to her word he knew she really would come here tonight if he didn’t spill. “Alright, ok—I’m sorry, Lil. I probably should have just waited, but – I dunno,” he didn’t think. He wasn’t thinking clearly at all, that was the problem. “Your mom is in town.”

Lily: “… Oh.” A quiet sound after a very long pause. “Does that mean it was her that I saw?”

Joel: “Yeah.”

Lily: “I see.” Using her thinking tone, she slowly sits down on the end of her bed, phone to her ear, confusion and sadness on her delicate features. “Are you ok?”

Joel: “You’re asking me if I’m ok?” He can’t help but smile at that, her heart and compassion only two of her beautiful traits. “I’m fine, kid. – I didn’t wanna do this over the phone so I’m sorry for droppin’ this on you, I just wanted you to know.”

Lily: “Well yeah, dad, she was, is, your wife, you remember her, I don’t, really – So,” shrugging, as if he could see her, she sighs.

Joel: “Still your mom though, kid.”

Lily: “Yeah, some mom she was?” Scoffing like a bitter child.

Joel: “… About that,” yet another sigh. “She said – She had post partum depression… Which actually explains… Well, almost everything.” 

Lily: “We talked about that,” not that long ago, she recalled. They were chilling one night when she brought Lori into conversation, as she did on rare occasion. They talked about the possibility of of depression being the reason Lori couldn’t bond with her.

Joel: “Yeah, we did… Turns out it was right.” Lily knew as much as he did about those three years, he’d never held anything back from her. So, that meant she was also aware that Lori’s inability to bond and love Lily as a mother typically would was a shock to everyone. They both wanted a daughter, a family, making how Lori acted after Lily arrived all too confusing.

Lily: “So it wasn’t her fault. Or… Or mine.” She whispers the last part, embarrassed by the fact that had always been an insecure thought, in spite of the constant reassurance from her dad.

Joel: “I guess not. – And it was never your fault, Lilypad, c’mon, you know this.”

Lily: “Yeah, I— Okay, I’m coming to you. I’m ahead in all my classes and I can zoom everything for as long as I need to. No arguments, I’m coming home.”

Joel: “No, no— I’m not having you missing school, you stay put. Shit’s still heavy here, baby, I don’t want you around it.”

Lily: “I don’t care. You need me, I can hear it in your voice. And… Well, I need you, so, that’s that. And I said no arguments!”

Joel: “… Okay, okay.” Yielding, it was hearing her feeble voice, his little girl saying she needed him. He could never deny her and she was right, of course, he needed her too. They could bicker about how long she planned on staying for when she got here. “Wait till mornin’ though, yeah?”

Lily: “I will, I’m about to get snoop stoned and eat half my body weight in hot cheetos, so no driving tonight, promise.”

Joel: “Not a bad idea.” He chuckles. “Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Love ya, kiddo.”

Lily: “Love you 3000.”

[lungfuls]

sorry to relationship vent post online but I'm having really bad PMDD symptoms so I got mad at M for something that probably is just a little dumb but it's the culmination of being the only one (with 1 or 2 exceptions since I went back to work) who wakes up to take care of E in the morning or overnight the nights he doesn't sleep all the way through. I feel so lonely all the time. I can't talk to him about it because I know he'll have some reason he doesn't think he should have to wake up ever and even trying to argue against that is going to solidify my desperation more and as always I can't afford to be in that dark sort of place, it's worse every time I feel hopeless. I get more and more hopeless in the worst moments. I've been talking myself out of a suicide attempt for most of my life now and obviously I can't do that to my son so it's more important that I don't go there. in many other ways M has been an incredible partner and I love him, I love his company, he doesn't treat me badly. but I know if I was only counting on myself, I would have a better mentality because I wouldn't be watching my son's other parent sleep in until noon then not do any chores or anything while I work. it'd just be me figuring it out. but I don't know how to drive

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Poseidon

Fishy fishy fishy… I honestly could write 100 more things for Poseidon MC and Levi. I just love the dynamic between an insecure, otaku shut-in and a chill California surfer dead set on becoming his friend.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon 

For anyone unaware, Poseidon is also the god of horses. I know it's a weird combo, but I didn't write the mythos.

Lucifer

…..

They came out of the portal….

On a horse….

They brought the mortal down to the Devildom…

On a goddamn horse….

There's a demigod on a live horse brandishing a weapon and doing laps around the Student Council Room…

Congratulations, he already wants to pull his hair out!!

Honestly, it would have been preferable to pluck them out of the sea. At least then they'd just need a towel! What the hell were they going to do with an entire horse!?

And his nightmare didn't stop there. Poseidon is a notoriously mercurial god, prone to bouts of anger and spitefulness for reasons far less grievous than kidnapping his children… 

Their apology was swift and (seemingly) effective, though the tide waters around the Devildom did rise by several feet for some time…

As for the MC… uh… Well, they're an energetic one to say the least…

Lucifer hasn't met a more active individual since Mammon. They horseback ride, swim, surf, skateboard, and probably do ten other things - the point is, they Hardly. Keep. Still! 

They're also annoyingly easygoing… He can't count the number of times they've told him to, "Just chill out," or, "Hang loose…" What does that even mean??

Between having to order a stable made for their horse and just trying to keep up with them, Lucifer already thinks this mortal has caused him more trouble than they're worth… At least they keep Mammon busy...

Mammon

Upon first meeting them atop their horse, Sunset, his first thought was of course:

"I wonder if I sell that...?"

After that, they nearly fed him to sharks for trying to take their beloved steed on same night. Safe to say, he never touched a hair on its head again…

These two had a rocky start, but their relationship mended fairly quickly. As it turns out, the MC is literally one of those "go with the flow" types. You can say it was water under the bridge soon enough.

Mammon actually thinks the MC is a hell of a lot of fun, even if they're super laid-back. Most of the time, they won’t take his drive for money (or fear of his bills) all that seriously and tell him that he’s worrying too much, but they’ll still lend a hand if its on their way.

He finds their ability to control water pretty cool as well. Levi has it to some extent, but the MC can make a whole-ass whirlpool or use water like a whip! 

He once begged them to call up some rare fish for him to sell, but they got all pseudo-philosophical on him about how “trading life for material wealth” is “not cool, dude...”

He also made the mistake of challenging them to a splash fight only once…. They managed to drench the whole family with a single wave….

The only thing that bothers him is their weird insistence on being Levi's "Best Buddy…" Why would someone like them even bother with a shut in??

Is it the water? … Probably water. Levi, that lucky bastard…

Leviathan 

Thinks they're a big normie, no scratch that, a HUGE normie! The biggest normie he's ever met!! They skateboard and horseback ride for Devil's sake!!

...But they’re also, undoubtedly, the best friend he could've ever asked for.

To be fair to Levi, their friendship was sort of forced upon him. The MC took one look at him, his aquatic-themed room, and his pet goldfish then declared their new friendship status at that moment. 

Unfortunately for him, though, they're energetic, extroverted, and generally have little understanding of personal space… aka, an introvert's worst nightmare…

The next month could accurately be described as the MC doing everything in their power to make their stubborn "senpai" like them.

They would drag him out to the aquarium, beach, or pool; they befriended Henry so he could put in a good word for them; and they'd even bring him little gifts or trinkets they'd find on the ocean floor. Pretty shells and stuff like a cat bringing its master a dead mouse.

After he finally began to accept them as a persistent fixture in his life, he introduced them to gaming and anime and started accepting them little by little...

By the end of their stay, these two were practically inseparable. Not just because they like spending time together, but because they figured out they could have a telepathic link due to Levi being part sea serpent. 

No matter how far they are, they can always have a chat! (That no one else can hear so people think they’re just crazy...)

Satan

Satan honestly isn't the MC's biggest fan, he generally finds them too loud and gregarious for his liking. But their horse…?

He never really thought that he'd be a horse man... Yet it didn’t really take long for Satan to adore Sunset, their beautiful golden-maned mare. Apparently she's not their only horse, but by far their favorite traveling companion.

Sunset is a wonderful horse - brave, strong, and well-trained. It only took a few weeks before he was regularly sneaking out to the stables to brush her fur or feed her apples...

After the MC taught him how to ride, that was it. All other forms of transportation were inferior to him now.

Satan would ride Sunset everywhere and he looked damn good doing it! It takes all that fairytale Prince Charming thing he has going on and puts it through the roof.

It's a good thing too, because when I say everywhere, I do mean everywhere. Lucifer had to put seals on the House doors to keep Satan from riding Sunset through the hallways...

Of course, he’ll always let the MC have Sunset back when they need her!... with a little complaining but nothing terrible.

The MC doesn't mind much because Sunset likes him and they know he takes good care of her, but the rest of the House is slightly unnerved at how quickly he went horse crazy… What if they brought a giant crab instead?? No one wants to deal with crab-Satan...

Asmodeus 

Their body is just scrumptious. Oh, how he could look at their swimsuit-clad figure all day!! 😩

Between the swimming and the fighting, their form is toned to all hell and he can't get enough of it! Yes baby, yes!! Take those clothes off again!!! He'll help~! 😘

When he's not staring at them “totally respectfully,” then he's inviting them out to pool parties or begging them to take him riding...

There are parts of horseback riding he doesn’t like, the smell and the jostling specifically, but there is a kind of… romance to it, no?

He loves having the chance to snuggle up to the MC as they trot around the Devildom! It's so romantic, like they’re his knight in shining armor! (Or his demigod in a damp swimsuit, either works. 😏)

His Devilgram is just full of selfies of him and MC riding on the back of Sunset or sitting by the edge of the pool or them in the middle of a swim meet…

Yeah his Devilgram is now a one part him and one part MC-Appreciation account.

After the pact he'll eventually cool down some and stop staring at them like a sex-object, but even then he'll be at every swim meet. Don't you worry~

Beelzebub 

He actually really likes them! It's great to finally have another athlete in the House. 😊

The MC joined the RAD swim team just as soon the coach was able to convince Diavolo that having the child of a water god wasn't completely cheating... 

Since swim and fangol practice ends at about the same time, they walk home together a lot and complain about... sports things... (Forgive me, I don’t know sports. Uhm... Rival teams? Coaches? That one drill everyone hates? Stuff like that.)

Beel also can surf, skate, and snowboard so the two have a healthy competition going. They're about on equal footing so they tie often (except in surfing but Beel doesn't think that should count cause they’re probably cheating).

The only thing that he has to watch out for is Sunset… As in, he has to watch himself around Sunset because he absolutely could eat her on accident… 

Look, he doesn't want to and he doesn't even like horse meat that much, but even he has to admit there are times he gets hungry enough to consider it…

Of course, he knows that if he ever did Satan would rip him limb from limb then the MC would drown the rest so he really, really tries to control himself… but still… She’s a very healthy horse...

At least he didn’t try to sell her like Mammon. The MC hung him over a shark tank for that stunt… He’d feel bad, but Mammon kind of had it coming.

Belphegor 

The first time they met, the MC smelled like beach water and called him "dude-bro…" He didn't like his prospects.

For a while, he genuinely thought that they had a lump of sand where their brain was. They were just too chill!! Here he was saying that he's being held captive and they were like, "Well that sucks, man… I'll help ya, but I've got practice tomorrow. You can wait, right?"

It's not like he expected them to jump on top of it, but some urgency would have been nice…

When they eventually got around to helping him, he was actually looking forward to choking the life out of them for the extra wait. Unfortunately, they apparently had a horse…

Yeah, Belphie found out just a bit too late that the MC could summon their steed to them whenever they wanted and ended up with Sunset's hooves firmly bucking into his back for his trouble…

What followed was Belphegor running circles around the attic from the weapon-totting MC riding their terrifying murder horse until Lucifer finally intervened....

Thank the gods he wasn’t near any water….

As it would turn out later, as long as he's not being held captive in an attic Belphie kind of vibes with their laid-backness… They say they approach life "one wave at a time" or something.

He could care less about what that actually means, but what it translates to is "Stop stressing out and just keep chill" which he's all about.

Everybody should just chill out!... dude…. Nah, he'll let them stick to the “dude”-thing, it feels weird...

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part sixteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

word count: 3.1k

series masterlist

smut warnings: female masturbation, porn, mentions of choking

“‘We’? Like, you and me?” you clarified, hoping you had misunderstood.

“Yeah, it’ll only take a second,” Tom assured you.

You looked to Sam for help, but he looked just as lost as you were. “I’ll go try and find a microwave to heat up your leftovers,” he offered and took the container back from you. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

“Okay...”

You watched him shrug past both you and Tom and then disappear into the hallway with a sinking feeling in your chest, knowing he trusted you completely. He had no reason not to, and that’s what consumed you. 

“What do you want?” you muttered, reluctantly stepping to the side to let Tom in. 

He didn’t answer right away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. His eyes followed you around the room as you found your pants and tugged them on. He averted his gaze when he realized you were getting dressed mumbling a “sorry” as he trained his eyes on the carpet. 

You sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain why he was there. 

“You weren’t there today,” was all he said. 

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“Was it because of me?”

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

Tom’s tongue poked at the inside of his cheek. “Is that all?”

“I had a lot to drink last night,” you reminded him. 

“So you don’t remember anything?”

“I never said that.”

“So it was because of me?”

“I never said that either.” You sighed. “If you’re here to ask me if I told him you kissed me, I didn’t. And you could’ve just texted me to ask.”

“No that’s not why- I don’t have your number anyway.”

“I’m in the trip group chat with your family.”

“Oh, right. I’ll save it to my contacts.”

The tension in the room was palpable. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out and replaced with thick, suffocating silence. Arbitrarily, you wondered who the most famous person in his phone was. He was a Marvel actor, he probably had Simu Liu’s number, right? Who would your contact information be sitting in between? Maybe if you ever forgave him for what he did you could ask him. 

“Is something funny?” The firmness of Tom’s voice cut through your train of thought and brought you back to the present. “Why are you smiling?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said despondently. “Sam’s gonna be back soon. What did you want?”

“I just wanted to check up on you. Sam said you were sick.”

“Oh, so you wanted to see if I was lying?”

“No! God, why is it so hard to believe that I’m genuinely concerned about you?”

“Because last night you only seemed concerned about yourself.”

Tom pursed his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, expelling a breath harshly. “Okay, I deserved that.”

You hummed in agreement, and let your eyes trail down the veins of his arms to where they disappeared into his pockets. It looked like he was fiddling with a coin or something small, but you couldn’t tell. 

“Are you feeling better?” he said the last part through gritted teeth.

“Yes, thank you. This chat has helped considerably.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Well, lucky for you I’m not your problem to deal with. I'm Sam’s.”

He flexed his hand in his pocket and sighed. “Okay, well, I also wanted to apologize again for...” the word kiss seemed to die on his lips, poetic irony at its finest. “Being a dick.” Less poetic. 

He finally fished his hand out of his pocket, holding a delicate piece of paper between his pointer and index fingers. He shifted uncomfortably where he was leaning against the dresser. “We went to the Academic Gallery today. I saw this in the gift shop and thought of you.” He presented you with what turned out to be a postcard, creased down the middle unevenly and smudged with pen ink.

You turned it over to look at the front first, admiring the artwork printed on it. It was a picture of Michelangelo’s David drawn in swoopy black lines and filled in with watercolor paint. Instead of a museum, the statue was in the middle of a garden, the centerpiece among dozens upon dozens of flowers. 

 “Sorry it’s folded,” he mumbled. “It wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”

You flipped it over to read the back only to see iou scribbled in his handwriting and nothing else. You turned it over again to see if you had missed something on the front, but there was nothing.

You looked up at him in confusion. “Iou?” 

“Yeah, you know... I feel really bad about last night, and I don’t really know how to make it up to you so I’m letting you decide.”

“That’s not really how it works.”

“I think that this counts as an exception, since we’re kind of in uncharted territory.”

“Maybe for you. My boyfriend’s brothers make out with me all the time.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t make out with you- it was barely a peck.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It was more than a peck.”

His cheeks were beginning to grow pink with what you couldn’t tell was either embarrassment or frustration. He cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the subject. “Anyway, if you ever need a favor or anything, just let me know. Think of it as me owing you one.”

“And do I have to give back the postcard when I cash in this ‘favor’?” you asked.

“No, you can keep it.”

“Good, because I was going to keep it anyway.”

He chuckled in spite of himself and shook his head. “Knew you’d like it.”

You flattened the card on your lap, smiling as you tried to iron out the little crease with your fingers. 

“It’s pretty, thank you.”

Tom nodded in acknowledgement and straightened his posture. “I should get going. I just wanted to give you that, and see how you were doing since tomorrow’s a travel day and I know you get a little motion sick sometimes. I didn’t want... whatever you’d come down with to make it worse.”

How did he know that? Had Sam told him? You didn’t have time to ask because he was already walking towards the door. He paused when he reached it and turned his head towards you, hand already on the knob. 

“Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Tom.”

  He opened the door and let himself out into the hallway, catching it suddenly on his foot as he saw Sam coming off the elevator. Tom held the door for Sam, since his hands were full, and then said goodnight to his brother as he finally left.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the microwave,” he explained. “I had to ask the night manager and they heated it up in the break room for me.”

“Oh, Sam, you didn’t have to do that! I would’ve eaten it cold.”

“I know you would have, and that’s why I’m not letting you.” You gave him a look, which he ignored and handed you the container of food. “It’s carbonara, it’s one of the things Rome is known for. I couldn’t have you eating it lukewarm.” 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a seat next to you on the edge of the bed, pulling the ottoman closer to use it as a makeshift table. He watched as you tried the first bite, gauging your reaction. It was something he did whenever he cooked for you, especially if he was trying out a new recipe. He always needed your approval, and valued it above anybody else’s. But he hadn’t even made this, and as his eyes searched your face you found yourself wondering if they were looking for something else. 

“Do you like it?” 

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Your paranoia was starting to get the better of you. “It’s delicious,” you assured him. “I’m sad I missed dinner.”

“I’m sad you missed the whole day. Spending time with my family without you was hell.”

“Oh come on, it’s probably good that you got some real family time.”

“It’s real family time when you’re there. It felt like something was missing.” 

You let a small smile slip past your lips despite the guilt that bubbled under the surface. You pushed it down and took another bite of the carbonara. 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you? It can’t have all been bad. Tell me about the good stuff. I wanna hear that.”

Sam nodded and pushed his curls back again, grinning like he’d been caught. “Fine, maybe there were some okay moments.”

“And what were they?”

“We went to the Accademia Gallery today. I think you would have really liked it. They had a whole wing of instruments from some of the most famous inventors and musicians from history. They even had pianos from Bartolomeo Cristorfori, the inventor of the piano.”

“Wow,” you said, impressed. “I bet it was beautiful.”

“Of course if it was played, it wouldn’t sound anything like the piano we’re used to hearing today, but I’m sure it would still sound incredible.”

“Even if it hasn’t been tuned in a few hundred years?”

It was his turn to give you a look. “Yes, of course.”

“Sorry.”

“And they had a Strativerius, I don’t even want to know how valuable that thing is. It must cost millions. I took some pictures for you, but I know they won’t compare to the real thing. The lighting in museums never does the art justice.”

He handed his phone to you to scroll through. You swiped the photos, smiling whenever you came across a selfie he’d taken with a statue or painting. You reached the pictures of David and couldn’t help but zoom in on-

“Hey!” Sam yelped and grabbed his phone back from your hands.

“What!”

“Michelangelo would be so ashamed of you! I bet he’s rolling in his grave right now.”

“No way! If anyone appreciated good dick, it was Michelangelo.” 

“Unbelievable.” 

“If you don’t want me to judge these statue’s penises, don’t take pictures of them.”

“I didn’t take pictures of their penises! I took pictures of the whole statue- you’re zooming in on- you know what, nevermind. Arguing with you about this is pointless.”

“Smart boy.”

Sam rolled his eyes at you and put his phone in his back pocket. “Oh yeah, did Tom give you that postcard?”

“He told you about that?” you asked, suddenly panicking. Sam hadn’t said anything about last night so far, but maybe Tom had-

“Yeah, said he wanted to give you an iou for the limoncello last night.”

“What?”

“He said you paid the tab for it since he left his wallet in the room and that he wanted to pay you back for it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Another lie. You had very much not paid for the drinks last night. Tom had. And you knew he had to make an excuse for why he was buying his brother’s girlfriend something from the gift shop, but to add another lie to the ever-growing list made your throat burn with regret. You wouldn’t be able to keep the secret forever, and it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down around you. 

-

In the morning you took the train from Rome to Naples, and then took a taxi to Sorrento to spend the last bit of your week in Italy by the sea. The atmosphere was much more relaxed than it had been in the busy cities of Rome and Florence. Even though there were still hordes of tourists, they were far more dispersed and less overbearing than you expected. The whole town seemed slowed down, like it had escaped the chokehold of time. 

Sam’s parents took everyone out to lunch by the water and went over the schedule for the next day and a half. 

“So, you’re on your own after dinner tonight, and then tomorrow morning we’re going to take the ferry to Capri for the day before our flight that night,” Nikki explained as she read through the spreadsheet on her phone. 

“There’s an Irish pub down the street from our hotel,” Harry said. “Do you guys want to go after we eat tonight?”

“I’m down,” Sam agreed. 

“Sounds good,” Tom chimed in.

The boys all looked at you for your answer, but you hesitated. Thinking about what happened the last time you drank didn’t make you eager to do it again, and you were already exhausted from travelling.

“I’ll pass.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m tired, and I’d rather go somewhere Italian... since we’re in Italy.”

Harry shrugged. “Your loss.”

“We’ll have a shot in your honor, babe,” Sam said and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“Please don’t. Something tells me you’ll have plenty to drink without an extra shot for me.”

“You know us so well.”

After dinner, you walked back to the hotel with the Hollands and said good night to Sam’s parents before parting ways to your separate rooms. Sam went with you to change into clothes for going out while you changed into pajamas. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

You nodded from where you were on the bed and yawned. Sam didn’t push any further, instead resolving to finish getting ready in silence. He paired his black jeans with a pair of converse and a dark green button up over a black t-shirt. 

He turned to you for approval.

“Fake girlfriend approved?”

“Fake girlfriend approved,” you repeated and gave him a thumbs up. 

“Okay, well I’m headed out,” he announced. 

“Have fun! Don’t kiss any cute girls without me!” 

It was something you always said to each other, but it sounded strange since it was supposed to be coming from his girlfriend. Sam just chuckled and blew you a kiss as he let himself out. 

You heard him greet his brothers outside and then listened to their footsteps fade into the distance before pulling up an incognito window on your phone. It had been weeks since you’d been able to get off and it was killing you. The amount of stress this trip had given you only made it worse. You were wound so tight that you were sure you’d snap soon if you didn’t get some relief. 

And you thought that maybe if you rubbed one out it might help you forget about... the confusing feelings you had for your best friend’s brother. 

Seeing as you had the night to yourself, you figured you might as well take advantage of it. You copied a link from your notes app and pasted the url into the address bar. You didn’t feel like digging through your luggage to find your earbuds so you set the volume low enough for only you to hear. 

The video started playing and you let your hand wander from your side up to your neck, brushing your hand lightly across your collarbone. You traced the curve of your breasts with a finger before squeezing one of them gently, feeling your nipple harden under your palm. You only had one hand to use since the other was holding your phone, but you made do. 

The video was one of your favorites, one you found yourself watching at least once a week. It was one of the few videos of hetero couples you had favorited, and it started with the guy going down on the girl before fucking her...

You admired the muscles on the man’s back, watching intently as they flexed whenever he moved his head. The woman moaned, struggling to keep her legs open while he brought her closer and closer to orgasm. 

You let your hand travel down further until it was sitting at the waistband of your pajama shorts. You knew you had a while before Sam would be back, but you were too impatient to wait. You propped your phone up on a pillow next to you to free your other hand as you started to play with your clit. 

You pictured someone’s head in between your thighs, imagining them moaning against your pussy as they tasted you for the first time. 

The man was taking his pants off now and lining himself up with his partner’s pussy. You tried to follow along, putting yourself in the moment with the couple. You gathered your own wetness on two of your fingers to lubricate them and slid them inside yourself, sighing in relief. Your entire body tensed as it accommodated to the stretch and you gave yourself a few beats before moving your fingers. 

When you finally did, you felt yourself relax and sped up your pace so that it matched the actors on screen.

The angle the video was shot at hid the man’s face and you found yourself wondering what he looked like. If you squinted you could almost picture Tom- no. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, but it was already there. 

Closing your eyes didn’t help either. You just imagined Tom’s fingers sliding in and out of you instead of your own, imagined the veins on his arms becoming more pronounced as he tightened his grip on your thigh. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, knowing you should stop. 

You were too close to stop now, and the pleasure was clouding your judgement. Suddenly the man brought his hand up to the girl’s throat and began to choke her, sending her hurtling into her own orgasm. You moaned accidentally, thinking about Tom’s hand around your throat. You curled your fingers up so that you were hitting your g-spot and whimpered pathetically.

This was wrong. This was bad. Not only were you fantasizing about your best friend’s brother, but you were confusing yourself even further. 

You tried to fight it, at least that’s what you told yourself, but all you could hear were Tom’s moans echoing through the speaker. You pictured the way he’d look on top of you. His eyes would be so dark and he’d be smirking like the cocky asshole he was, chain hanging down in your face- just inviting you to take it into your mouth. It didn’t take long before you felt your orgasm begin to build. The video was still playing in the background, the man still chasing his own high and bringing his partner to her second orgasm, but you’d tuned it out by now. You came around your fingers thinking about Tom’s hips snapping into yours. 

You were fucked.

lmk what you think!! i always appreciate feedback

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[phr0gie]

sleep softly, love; genshin impact

synopsis: how i think certain genshin impact characters would fall asleep next to you for the first time :)

note: hihi! so i finally feel like i’m caught up enough in genshin lore that i can start actually writing for it!! yay!! anyways, i’m sorry if my portrayal of them is a lil ooc, i’m still getting used to writing for them. still, i hope you guys enjoy! :D

pairings: xiao x reader, diluc x reader

tw: mentions of nightmares and death in xiao’s, mentions of alcohol and suggestive themes in diluc’s, ooc characters, mostly j fluff, not proof read (oops)

wc: 2k 

masterlist

xiao:

the first few times you bring up sleeping next to him he’s probably going to turn you down

you see, xiao doesn’t really need to sleep, nor does he want to

he finds the idea of lying in a comatose state for eight hours in complete darkness to be “weird” and a “waste of time”

and his opinion on the matter doesn’t change for a while

that is, until you confess to him you’ve been having nightmares

these nightmares were like nothing you have ever had before

they shook you to your very core and, rather than the dream just leaving your mind after you woke up, they followed you around for days

once you confide in xiao about these terrors, he grows very concerned

in the past he’s known people who have been plagued with nightmares as a result of a dangerous curse that, more often than not, ended in death

the thought of you, the person he cares about most, succumbing to such a terrible fate frightens him more than anything — not that he’ll ever admit this to you.

and so, reluctantly, xiao agrees to spend the night with you

just this once, to protect you

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

“Xiao.”

Your gentle voice catches his attention immediately. As he looks into your eyes all he can see is admiration, his heart clenches at the feeling it gives him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “for being here for me like this.”

Xiao simply nods his head at you in response.

“Sleep,” he whispers, his tone commanding yet soft, “I will be here when you wake.”

He desperately wants to say more. To let you know that he would always be there for you, that no challenge would ever be too difficult if it was for you, that he would rip the moon from the night sky if it meant that you would rest a little easier. Yet, the kind smile you give him shows that he need not continue. You know he loves you, you have never once doubted it. You are aware of the burden he carries and how it affects him. You know that one day he will be able to share with you the confessions of love and vulnerability that are buried deep inside him. For now, this is enough. He is enough. And so, with a content smile you snuggle even further into your pillow.

“Goodnight, Xiao.” You whisper before finally closing your eyes.

Xiao stares at your resting form for a while. It is not until your breathing evens out and he is sure you are asleep do his eyes flicker from your face to your hand lying closely to him. All of the sudden, an overwhelming urge to hold you in some way overtakes the adeptus. Again, Xiao was not the biggest fan of physical affection, however, something about you looking as peaceful as you do in this moment evokes something from him. And so, he decides to finally accept your invitation. As his palm meets yours in a tight hold — not tight enough to wake you, of course — Xiao allows himself to indulge in the warmth and safety you provide him, just this once.

Neither of you have any nightmares that night.

diluc:

you and diluc are in a fairly new relationship.

having just started seeing each other a few months ago, it’s only natural to not have done anything too domestic quite yet.

not to mention, our ever stoic winery owner is a bit shy when it comes to his affections.

the two of your were every content with your soft, simple touches.

hand-holding, hugging, and subtle kissing kept you both very satisfied.

until you decide to get drunk at dawn winery.

your work has been k i l l i n g you recently

commissions are beginning to pile up, hilichurls have invaded the area you were supposed to scout next, and you couldn’t help but think that you were getting a bit rusty with your weapon.

all and all, you are very stressed out.

you desperately want a chance to relax.

originally, you had planned on just having a drink or two and ranting to your ever so reliable boyfriend.

however, a drink or two turned into three, then four...

before you knew it you couldn’t remember how many you had and it was rather late.

being the gentleman that he is, diluc forces offers you his bed for the night

seeing as you were in no condition to return home on your own, he has no choice.

it’s the responsible decision.

however, he’s still very flustered about the whole ordeal

Dulic thinks you are a handful. Especially right now. 

He huffs as he attempts to open his bedroom door one-handed. The other appendage preoccupied with keeping you slumped against his side so that you don’t fall over. 

“I knew you shouldn’t have had that last glass of dandelion wine.” He mumbles, gently scolding you. 

You simply blink up at him, a bored expression on your flushed face. 

“You sayin’ I can’t hold my alcohol?” you hiccup, “I’ll show you…” 

You attempt to push off of him, but his hold on you tightens. 

“No,” he grunts, “You won’t.” 

Finally the door opens and Diluc lets out a sigh of relief. Swiftly he lifts you up — earning a small ‘woah’ and a giggle from you — and carries you over to his bed. He then sets you down and turns to his dresser to get you some clothes to sleep in. He picks out a large, white, long-sleeved undershirt and. Your lips curl into a suggestive smirk and you chuckle. 

“Oooh,” you tease, “Master Diluc how bold of you, are you going to dress me?” 

The pyro user looks absolutely mortified but you pay no mind to it, too busy laughing and hiccupping at your own joke. A prominent blush grows on Diluc’s face as he shuffles over to you. 

“Of course not!” he stutters, dropping the clothing article gently on your head. He then grabs a pile of his own clothes and makes a beeline to the door. Just as he is about to exit he turns to you. 

“Wait here,” he instructs, “and try not to fall asleep yet.” 

And with that, the Diluc dashes down the hall, presumably leaving you to get changed. You do just that, tugging off your shirt and removing your bottoms. You huff as you lift your boyfriend's shirt up and over your head. As soon as the garment falls over your shoulders and past your knees, you’re hit with the rich scent of chestnuts and mahogany — the scent of Diluc. His undershirt is so baggy and so warm that you cannot help but feel at ease, Diluc always did have a way of making you feel safe — whether it was the hand he always places on the small of your back when he guides you around town or the look in his eyes when he spots you across the room, so sure that you’re the one he’ll always search for. The red-head returns a moment later clad in a dark, short-sleeved undershirt, similar to the one he gave you, and a pair of soft pants. In one hand, Diluc holds a fresh glass of water and in the other a pillow that seems to be smaller than the ones laid out in his bed. Diluc gently sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to him, beckoning you to sit next to him. As soon as the bed dips with your weight, Diluc is handing you a cup of water. 

“Drink,” he instructs once again, “so your hangover doesn’t kill you tomorrow.” 

You do as you're told, dutifully downing the refreshing liquid. The minute your lips leave the cup he takes it from you, setting it on his bedside table. Then, Diluc picks you up once more and positions you so you are laying properly on the bed. He pulls the covers out from under you and makes sure you’re tucked in well. 

“There,” he says finally, pulling the comforter up to your chin, “are you comfortable?” 

However, he does not receive an answer. You’re already half asleep, head slumped against the pillow, mouth hanging wide open. Diluc smiles in spite of himself. He should be mad at you, he knows he should. But, as you lay there with your hair a mess, wearing one of his shirts, in his bed, Diluc cannot help but fall even more hopelessly in love with you. Stroking your hair a few times, he finally leaves a light kiss on your forehead. Hesitantly, he gets up, being very careful not to jostle you. He’s about to head to his living room to sleep, but he can barely make it two steps away from the bed before a hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. He turns to see you, still snug in his bed, a pout adorning your features. 

“Where’re you goin?” You grumble out sleepily. 

Diluc looks at you curiously. 

“I’m going to let you sleep,” he whispers, “You need to rest.” 

He attempts to remove your hand but your grip only tightens. Suddenly you pull him down, your faces only inches apart. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice soft — so soft that Diluc doesn’t think he would have heard it if he weren’t so close to you, “stay.”

The blush from earlier creeps back up Diluc’s neck and rests upon the apples of his cheeks. Hearing you plead for him like this evokes a sense of warmth within the pyro user. He’s never felt so wanted before you. Ultimately, Diluc gives in and indulges you — how can he not? Crawling into bed next to you, he stiffens when you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his torso. Diluc stays up a little while after you doze off, admiring you. 

Diluc thinks you are a handful. However, he thinks he can handle it if at the end of every day he gets to hold you like this.

please do not steal or repost my work, thank you!

[pixelwisp-archive]

oooo sharing a bed with matsukawa?? i love that man but anyone honestly this trope is too good ajdhdjjd

hi ori ily 🖤🖤

hiii Amaya ily <333 I've had this idea in my head forever so this was literally perfect ;-;

wc: just under 1k

Issei Matsukawa was pretty sure that some higher power thrived off of watching him suffer. As if the last few months weren’t taxing enough - The entire process of getting ordained, dealing with groomzilla Oikawa, dealing with other groomzilla Iwaizumi, and taking on a co op role of Iwa’s Best Man with Makki, who, by all accounts, should never be allowed to plan anything by himself - he now had to share a room with you; his best friend, Oikawa’s person of honor, and someone he’s been disgustingly in love with for so long he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be in love with you.

When he first found out the news, he thought ‘this is fine, we can handle this. It’s just a room’, but the back of his mind was frantically trying to figure out what he possibly could have done that would have pissed the gods enough for them to punish him like this (he could only recall that one time during New Years, when he picked his nose and wiped it on the shrine; but he was six, and Makki had dared him, so surely they had forgiven him for that?). He was too stuck in his head to notice the lilt in Oikawa’s voice as he explained that ‘We’re just trying to save some money, and Makki is already rooming with so-and-so, so you understand, right Mattsun?’, nor the mischievous glint in his eyes as he handed him the two hotel room keys, along with an order to not show up late to the ceremony, to which Mattsun only barely nodded to.

One night. One room. It’s fine, he thinks. 

It was not fine.

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when he saw the singular mattress in the middle of the hotel room. He briefly wondered if Oikawa was the aforementioned higher power. Does he know about the booger? 

Mattsun almost wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, because of course. Of course Oikawa would use his own wedding to try to get Mattsun to confess for the millionth time. Of course Oikawa would make it as uncomfortable as possible for him in the process. Of course Makki would be in on it; Iwaizumi too, probably (although begrudgingly so). Of course he was, once again, at the mercy of his shitty friends, forced to suffer through another awful set up that’s destined to go horribly wrong. 

He knew whoever was "upstairs" was laughing at him. They were laughing at his suffering and honestly? He wouldn't be surprised if Oikawa did turn out to be some sort of demigod, who's only mission was to make Mattsun wish the next funeral he'd have to plan was his own.

After a rush to the bathroom, a splash of cold water, and a less-than-peppy "pep" talk in the mirror, Mattsun decided that he could do this. He can totally sleep next to you for one night. He'll face away from you, or lay over the blankets, or even sleep on the floor - whatever will help minimize contact between you two. He'll hash out the details later. The important thing is, he can do this.

He could not do this.

He didn't plan for you to look as good as you did tonight. He didn't think to consider that you would practically beg him to dance, feeling you pressed up against his chest as you giggled breathlessly into his ear. He didn't factor in the possibility that you would forget to pack pajamas, which meant you ended up in one of his shirts. He didn't take into account how good you always smelled, and how it would envelope him as you laid next to him, soft breaths hitting his shoulder as he stared at the ceiling.

Mattsun played with his fingers as he tried his best to force sleep to overtake him, but all the little things had been building up throughout the day, and he was just so tired, and so hopelessly in love, he just couldn't take it anymore.

He shifted; turned toward you. He took a moment to appreciate the moonlit path that shimmered across your cheekbone, the way your other cheek squished against the pillow, the hands that balled together against your chest. He saw your nose scrunch a little at something - probably his breath - and the final thread of hesitation gave away.

"Hey. Are you awake?" His voice was soft, a whisper, in case you were actually sleeping.

Your nose scrunched again.

"No," you whispered back, and you smiled and opened your eyes to look at him. His breath caught in his throat, but he somehow managed a smile back.

"Funny."

"I'm here all week."

"Y/n," he started. He swallowed. "Are we friends?"

You furrowed your brows, and nodded slowly.

He exhaled. Reached a hand to touch your cheek. His fingertips danced over your skin - his touch light as a feather, like you were the most delicate thing in the world.

"Just friends?"

You looked at him for what felt like an eternity, your face unreadable. He couldn't tell what you were thinking, and every second you didn't answer him had him falling deeper into a new kind of pain he had never experienced before.

You shook your head.

He felt the hope spread throughout his chest as he sucked in a breath. His touch deepened, ever so slightly.

"More?" He whispered. You reached up to cup the hand on your cheek, turning your head to place a soft kiss into his palm.

"More," you affirmed.

Issei Matsukawa was pretty sure that he owed an apology to whatever higher power he had been cursing the last few months. Maybe Oikawa wasn't a demigod - or maybe he was, but he was helpful rather than spiteful - and maybe whoever was hanging out upstairs dealing with him had been as frustrated with him as he had been with himself.

As his fingers trailed up your thigh and you whispered love into every inch of his skin, he realized, begrudgingly, that he would have to thank Oikawa tomorrow, but when he smiled against your lips for the first time, he decided that maybe thanking Oikawa wasn't the worst thing in the world if it meant he finally got to have you.

Requests are open! 

[dragon-kazansky]

Tea for two | Helmut Zemo

Requested by anon

Sequel to Tea for you

Zemo made the tea as he always did. The boys had got a lead and it was important they went and checked out the area. Of course, Zemo was going with them.

He was only making one cup today. The boys were insistent they had to leave soon.

After what Bucky did the other day, Zemo had begun to leave a Turkish Delight with your cup. It felt like he was completing his deed by doing both.

Once the tray was settled on the coffee table, he left with the boys. They were gone hours. Apparently it was a false lead, but Sam had picked up some information that may be useful. They would leave first thing tomorrow to check it out.

When they came back to the house, Zemo walked over to the tray. The tea was obviously cold now. He stared at the brightly coloured liquid.

Why was he still holding onto hope?

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He didn't need let his emotions get the better of him here.

You're dead. You're not coming back.

His fists clench in his gloves, the leather creaking ever so slightly from the motion. His heart will never heal.

Helmut picks up the tray and takes it over to the sink, tipping the cold tea away and washing the cup delicately as always. Once it's crystal clean, he holds it up and runs his thumb over the side. Even in the moment he wishes beyond belief you would come here and take it from him.

He sets the cup down and goes to bed.

Sam has them all up early. He wants to leave as soon as possible, but Zemo insists on pouring the tea as he always does. Sam sighs and tells him to be quick, he knows what this means to Zemo, but they can't waste too much time.

Zemo goes to get the teapot, but their morning is interrupted by Walker. John storms in like he owns the place and points at Sam.

"You know!"

"Hey, relax man."

"You know where they are." Walker got a little too close to Sam.

"We think we might know. There is a difference."

Bucky steps in, "back off."

Zemo sighs and puts down the teapot. He walks over to where the commotion is happening and comes to Sam's aid.

"We have information. You let us take you to where we think they are, you leave us to our own investigation," Zemo offers.

"If they're there, we are not wasting time talking to them. We need to stop them," Walker hissed, his eyes focused on Sam.

"Hell no, we do this my way. Go in guns blazing, they'll flee before we even have a chance," Sam states. "Be smart about this."

"I am smart."

No you're not. Zemo could almost hear your voice. He resisted a smile. Oh, the fun you would be having if you were here.

"Fine, let's go." Walker spat.

Teapot neglected, they leave the house. It pains him to leave without doing his little ritual, but time is of the essence. He's sure you would forgive him.

Hours. They're gone hours. All day, almost. The sun will be setting soon, that's for sure.

They enter the safe-house. It's quiet as they all go their separate ways. Zemo instantly goes over to the sofa, relaxing into the cushions. He was so tired. Tired of Walker, tired of all the fighting that ensued today, tired of being lonely.

He sighs and sits up, maybe he could have some tea with you now. It's later than usual, but it would still count.

He goes to get up, but something catches his eye. The tray he uses is sitting in front of him and a little note is resting on it. He leans over and pluck the note from where it sat.

'I missed your tea today'

He sat up straighter. What was this? It looked like your handwriting, but thats5not possible. Had Sam or Bucky done this to spite him? A cruel joke it would be, but when would they have had time to do it? Zemo had been with them all day.

Maybe I have finally lost my mind.

He stares at the neat handwriting. His heart is calling out to you and it hurts. He holds the note to his heart, his fingers squeezing the paper.

I need you.

He falls asleep right there on the sofa, the note crumpled up in his chest.

The next day, he pretends nothing happened. He had woken up before the other two and prepared the tea as he always did. This time he stared at your cup as he drank his own. That note was a sick joke and he hated it.

Do not give me hope where there is none.

He was stirred from his hopeless wishing when Sam came into the room. The other man stood opposite from where he sat, looking at him.

"We, uh, should go now. I think Karli is making a move."

"Right." Zemo places his half empty cup down next to yours and stands up. He goes to grab his coat.

The building has very people in it when they arrive. It's almost as they had been expected to arrive, which didn't sit right with Zemo. This could put them at a disadvantage.

"Keep your guard up."

They stepped carefully through the halls, looking into each room. There was no sign of anyone. Eventually they had come to the courtyard. It was closed in by the building, too many convenient spots to be ambushed from above.

"I don't like this," Bucky muttered, eyes moving from one spot to the next.

Sam was jumped from behind seconds later. Flag Smashers came out from every direction. Zemo held up his gun and began to shoot, any of them would help fulfil his work.

Bucky was fighting off to of them, Sam used his wings to his advantage, but the fact that Zemo was armed was concerning to him.

"You have a gun?"

"Of course I do, you didn't think I was coming here unprepared, did you?" He shot a few more bullets, two of them hitting his moving target. He just had to finish the job.

A shield flew past, knocking out the man he had shot.

Great, Walker was here.

Zemo chose to ignore the oncoming headache and closed in on the Flag Smasher, he aimed for the head. However, before he could take his shot, Walker was on him. He had grabbed Zemo from behind, using his arm to lock around his neck and pull him backwards. He pushed Zemo to the ground and held the shield up, so ready to get rid of him.

Walker suddenly fell the ground unconscious.

Zemo looked up to see someone impossible.

"It can't be."

You were standing over him, a gun in your hand. You had whacked Walker pretty darn hard with the butt end.

"Hello stranger."

Zemo had to be dreaming. You couldn't be here, you just couldn't!

You hold out your hand. It looked so real. His hand reaches for yours. He flinched when his fingers touch your own. He thought they would just pass through or tour would disappear entirely, but you curl your fingers around his wrist and pull him up. He stands.

"You not going to say anything?" You ask, softly.

"How?"

You smile and reach up, caressing his cheek. His tears fall. You were really here in front of him. The Baron leans into your touch, a gasp escaping his lips.

"I'm here, my love, my Liebling."

He loses his composure and envelopes you in his arms, holding you to him like a lifeline. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. His quiet cries break your heart, but you had expected this much.

He believed you to be dead.

All this time, all those years, he had been alone.

"How?" He asks again.

"I'll tell you later, but we should probably leave." You pull away to look at him. "Look at you, still handsome as ever," you chuckle.

He smiles before he pulls you in to kiss you. It was long overdue and he needed this. He needed you. You melt against him, focusing only giving him what he wanted.

Sam clears his throat.

You both pull away you smiling at each other. Helmut reaches for your hand, you give it a little squeeze.

"Apologies."

"Who is this?" Bucky asks, looking at you.

"This is Y/N."

"Know each other, do you?" Sam is trying to grin. He saw exactly what you two were up to while he and Bucky fought off the masses.

"Something like that," Zemo replies.

"I think I'm owed a cup of tea, Helmut." You look at him.

"About that, how did you know? That note..."

"I've been watching over you since you got out of prison. I was watching over you back when you were tearing the Avengers a part."

"I thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry, Helmut."

He brings you into his arms again, holding you close to him.

"I forgive you."

You cling to him.

"Wait, this is who you keep making tea for?" Bucky asks.

You nod at him when you pull away from Zemo once more.

"Thank you for the Turkish Delights, by the way. That was you, wasn't it?" You ask him.

Bucky looks a little startled.

"Uh, yeah."

"Maybe we should go back and catch up. I have a lot of time to make up for." You look at Zemo.

"I want to hear everything," Zemo says, smiling.

"I won't leave out a detail."

Zemo keeps a hold of you as you all leave. He was never going to let go of you again. He had lost you once before and it was the worst pain imaginable.

Not even Walker's headache, when he wakes up, will be remotely close, and that will hurt a lot.

You are reunited with the one person you love the most. Happy doesn't even cover it.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna

[thestarrynightslover]

It’s Hard Sometimes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,975

Warnings: Yelling, arguing (gets a little physical, really just a little bit!), high risk-pregnancy, slight mentions of fertility issues, mentions of anxiety and overthinking, and a lot of angst.

Summary: Jay and the reader are married, but start having a hard time after they found out that (y/n) is pregnant. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I made this piece of almost pure angst mostly because I feel like Jay is such a well-built character, who gives us a lot of space to talk about mental health and anxiety (even though I don’t think I developed it very well, lol), so I wanted to use this space to try and add to the conversation with him. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Your Saturday morning just couldn’t get any worse. 

Or, at least, that’s what you thought after having been mugged at the subway and then asked to go pick up your stuff at the 21st District, where your husband works. You had to go in because they had apprehended your bag as stolen property. But you were hoping that,  maybe, you’d be able to sort it all out without Jay seeing you. 

“(y/n), hi! Here to see Chuckles? Cause they’re all out working on a case now.” Trudy said with a small smile on her lips, while you just prayed she wouldn’t notice how relieved you were to hear that.

“No, uh, I’m actually here because there was an incident at the subway and the responding officers told me I had to come in to get my bag back. Also, sign something, I think…” You answered shrugging your shoulders to make it seem like nothing. But, of course, Trudy knew better, she always does.

“Oh my God! I heard about that, just didn’t know you were one of the victims! Are you okay? García, go get (y/n) a glass of water!!!” She quickly shouted at the young officer, not waiting long to turn back to face you with a concerned glare: “Can I get you anything else?”

“Oh, no, Trudy! You don’t need to worry about me! It wasn’t a big deal!” You said, also noticing that she was already going through some evidence bags, looking for the one that contained your things. “But there is one thing that I’d appreciate from you…” Hearing that, she didn’t even let you finish:

“Yes, of course! Anything, just name it!” At that, you shot her your brightest smile. Maybe Jay was right and the tough Sergeant Trudy Platt did have a soft spot for you. 

“Well, it’s just that… You know how Jay can get, so maybe you could not mention any of this to him? I just don’t want him worrying, the way I know he will, over something like this…” You would’ve continued but Trudy had the weirdest look on her face and, then, you got it. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” She didn’t bother to answer as your husband turned you to face him and the other members of the Intelligence Unit.

“So, what is it you don’t want me to worry about, huh?” He had a playful smirk on his lips, but his eyes showed you he was already worried. And now you had no other option but to tell him what happened.

“Well, um, there was a little confusion at the subway today and the officers said I had to come in…” You would gladly stop at that, but you knew that Jay wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him everything, so you just went on: “To retrieve what I, um, lost.” God, you couldn’t even look in his eyes right now. 

“What you lost? What kind of confusion are you talking about exactly, babe?” In spite of the pet name, his voice was already showing off a bit of irritation.

“It was a, um, robbery,” at that his eyes almost jumped out of their orbits, so you quickly added, “but it wasn’t a big deal! Nobody got hurt! The officers tackled the guy pretty fast, as soon as he stepped out on the station! And everything is here,” you said raising the bag  Trudy handed you a few minutes earlier, “so, really, there’s nothing to worry about!” You told him, not being able to conceal the exasperation in your voice.

“Nothing to worry about? You just got mugged, (y/n)! We heard a call about that over the radio, it was an armed robbery! Or did you happen to miss the gun on your face when he was getting your bag, huh?” He asked and, even though you knew that the only reason why he was lashing out like that was the concern, the way he said what he said made you feel really small and brought tears to your eyes. “Actually, what I’d like to know, to begin with, is why were you even riding the subway alone, after our talk from the other day, huh?” You could feel the eyes from every person in that District on you and, as much as you knew where Jay was coming from, it was starting to really bother you.

“I was just going to the library. Sorry I didn’t think I needed an escort to do that!” You wish you wouldn’t have said it with those exact words, but you were reaching your limit.

“But we talked about it!” He snapped and you jumped back a little. Then he added, more calmly: “You should have called me.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he always did when he was disappointed and upset about something, and you just felt yourself getting smaller and smaller, as the tears started falling. As if all of it hadn’t been enough, he asked: “Are you okay, though? Because, you know, given our circumstances, you’re to avoid going out on your own to prevent this kinda stress from hitting you, babe.” He explained that to you like he was talking to a child. Like he was the only one who heard what the doctor said. And that was it for you. As much as you loved the man, you just didn't have infinite patience towards his overprotective dad-to-be mode. 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you just go ahead and say ‘I told you so’, huh? Because I can tell you’re dying to do it!” God damn those pregnancy hormones because you were fuming with anger and the tears just kept going down at full force.

“Babe, that’s not what I-”

“The hell it isn’t!” Part of you really wanted to let it all out. All the hurtful words that were just waiting for a go-ahead at the tip of your tongue. But the other part of you, the rational one, knew that wasn’t gonna do any good for you or Jay. Or your baby. So you decided you’d leave instead. “You know what? It’s probably best if I go home now!”

“Okay, then, I’ll drive you.” You heard Jay saying, with a deep sigh, but you couldn’t even begin to think about an entire drive home with him at that moment.

“No way! I can do that by myself! And don’t worry I’ll get a cab this time!” As you headed towards the exit, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. You turned around and it was Jay. He’d never done that before. “Jay, you’re hurting me!” You breathed out, trying not to be too nervous. When your eyes met his, he let your arm go quickly, looking absolutely stunned by his own behavior. 

You knew that the healthiest thing to do right then would be to try and talk to him about it, but you couldn’t. At that point you needed the space more than ever, so you took the opportunity to just leave the District and go home.

After you stormed out crying, every cop in that building laid their eyes on Jay. To say they were completely shocked by the previous scene was an understatement. Almost everyone there knew you and Jay and how you two were great together. But, more importantly, they knew Jay Halstead wasn’t that kinda guy ⎯ or at least they thought so ⎯ and now they were all wondering.

Still, Trudy Platt, who wasn’t about to have any more of that drama at her District, ordered loudly for everyone to get back to their tasks, while shooting Jay a worried look, because, as much as she knew for a fact that he wasn’t that kinda guy, she cared a lot about you and had, obviously, witnessed the whole thing. 

After the little gathering of cops had been dissolved, it was Voight’s turn to speak up: “Alright, Intelligence, let’s get back upstairs, we still have a lot of work to do on this case. And, Jay, you should go home now.” He said with a stern look, despite his concern for the detective.

“But, sarge, I-” Jay started to protest, like Hank knew he would.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Halstead. I know your head is not gonna be on the case until you fix whatever that was, so, now, the best thing you can do is just calm down and go home.” This time Jay knew there was no point in arguing, so he accepted the defeat and went upstairs to get changed in the locker room before leaving. 

As he got there, he saw his reflection in the mirror and that was when it hit him. All of it. From your incident to your tears, to his aggressiveness. He really messed up. He let his fears get the best of him and he hurt you, he made you cry, fear him, even. So he started crying himself, like a little child whose favorite toy had just broken, like there was no tomorrow. By the time Voight went there to check up on Jay, maybe give him some advice, that’s what he saw: a grown man sitting on the floor crying his eyes out. So he did the one thing he could think about doing, to try and make that man he considered like a son feel better: he sat there by Jay’s side and put a hand over the detective’s shoulder until the crying sufficed. 

“So, you and (y/n) been on the odds lately?” Hank asked after a while.

“No, uh, not really.” Jay started whilst sniffling. “It’s just that this week we got some news that messed with our emotions a little, but, Hank, I swear I have no idea why I did that! I would never do anything to hurt her, you gotta believe me! Please?” He pleaded, in desperation, for someone who knew it, who knew him.

“Jay, Jay!” By then the sergeant had to shout to get the frantic young man’s attention back. “Jay, I know you wouldn’t hurt her, you hear me? I know. I know you love her more than you love yourself, hell, everyone here knows it! They were just… A little surprised to see you two arguing, that’s all.” Hank tried to make it sound a lot less bad than it actually was, and Jay appreciated that. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on between you and (y/n), huh? Maybe I can help you somehow… Or maybe you just need to vent.” Hearing that, Jay decided that he should take Voight’s suggestion and just talk about it already.

“Well, here’s the thing, sarge, (y/n/n) and I, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. And, um, we were having a bit of a hard time with it. But then last weekend we found out that it worked, she got pregnant, and we were so happy about it!” He almost smiled at the memory. “But then we went to the doctor to check it and all that, and found out that it’s a high-risk pregnancy, meaning she’s gotta take it real easy from now on, otherwise the baby’s life and her own would be in danger! And I’m terrified ever since we left that hospital! Because the simplest thing could take her away from me! My everything, sarge, she is my entire world and I can’t live without her.” He said shaking his head in a way that made even Hank Voight feel a bit of sadness. “So when she said she’d been robbed at gunpoint… I just lost it, you know? What if I’d lost them?”

“Ah, Jay…” Hank knew exactly what the detective was scared of, after all, he had already lost a wife and a son. “Look, I know this can be hard, trust me. Camille and I had our issues before Justin came, as well… But you said it yourself, you’re both happy, aren’t you?” Jay didn’t even need to think before answering that question.

“Yes, of course, sarge! But-”

“No buts! Look, Jay, I know what a big heart you have and I know how much you care, how- how intensely you care, I know, okay? But sometimes, with things like this, you just gotta keep going and hope- just hope that everything is gonna work out. So here’s what you’re gonna do: go home, make up with your wife and start planning a nursery, or whatever else you, parents-to-be, have on your to-do lists these days.” At that, Jay chuckled a little, feeling grateful to have this second father to set him on straight.

“I know you’re right, and I really appreciate you saying this to me… I’m pretty sure that (y/n/n) said something among those lines after we got back from the doctor’s appointment too. The problem is that sometimes it seems like I can’t control my own thoughts. Then, next thing I know, I’m freaking out…” Hank thought that he sounded so frustrated saying that… He really felt for the kid.

“Listen, Jay, you- you just try, okay? You just try your best. And talk to (y/n/n) about it, just let her know what’s going on in there.” He pointed to Jay’s head, as they had already stood up.

“Alright, I will try. Thank you, sarge. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” They half-hugged and the detective went home to you.

The thing he wasn’t prepared for, at all, was finding you: the woman he loved more than anything and anyone in the entire world, sitting on the floor, leaning your back against the bed in the bedroom you two shared, crying and shaking. You were scared of him. That broke him in a way he never thought possible. He wanted to hurt himself, as punishment for hurting you, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you. So he gathered some courage to speak through his shame instead. “B- babe?”

You shivered, but you didn’t wanna be afraid of him. That was Jay. Your Jay. The man you loved. The man who loved you. You knew he would never hurt you or your baby. But your body didn’t seem to be listening to your brain. Still, you wanted to say something. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t know what to say, so you just stayed silent, trying to stop the sobs. He decided to make a move: He sat down on the floor like you, but still giving you some space. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost whispering, “I’m so, so, so sorry. You don’t need to say anything, or to forgive me, or do anything, really. I came here willing to talk to you. To do anything to get you back. But now I see just how much I hurt you, so I’ll give you all the space and time you want.” You still couldn’t seem to find your words. It was that same man, you knew it. Why couldn’t you just tell him that? “I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom, or even go to Will’s if it makes you more comfortable?” Just by the sound of his voice, you could tell he meant it. And that was your Jay.

“No,” you spoke so lowly, that you weren’t even sure he’d heard it, “I want you to stay.” And you really did. But you needed to understand, in order to be able to forgive him. “Just- just tell me what happened there? Why?” You tried, a little louder this time.

“Long story short? I was scared to death.” He said with a long and heavy sigh, looking so much older than he’d ever done before; at the same time, you could see the bags under his eyes, from all those sleepless nights he’d been having lately.

“Scared? Because of the robbery? Baby, you’re a cop! You’ve heard of that kind of thing a million times before, and you know it’s not that big of a deal!" You tried to reason with him, even though you were afraid too, at the time.

“I know!” He said, in a tone that made you flinch a little and, then, more calmly: “Look, I know. And I know that you’ve been through tougher stuff. And that you can handle yourself. But that whole thing could’ve gone badly for you, for the baby, for us, in a thousand different ways. Besides, it’s not just that. Ever since we left that exam room, on Monday, I’ve been scared, worried. Because, according to the doctor, the tiniest problem could get you on edge. Because of the tiniest problem, I could lose you. I could lose everything, babe!” You could only stare at him in shock, after hearing that. Of course, you understood his concerns, but you had been so absorbed in your own fears, that you never thought about how much the whole situation was affecting him. Your formerly brave soldier, now tough detective, was also a very anxious man ⎯ who always overthought every single detail of everything when it came to you ⎯ and was, now, crying his eyes out, sobbing like a little kid by your side. So you did the one thing you thought could make him feel better: you pulled him closer to you, letting him break, into your chest, as he listened to your soothing heartbeat.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. Shhh, I’m right here and I’m safe. We both are. You don’t need to be afraid, because we’re not going anywhere, baby.” You promised him with tears already pricking through your eyes, as well. 

And, like that, you two stayed, crying in each other’s arms, just holding each other. With a renewed hope that everything was gonna be okay.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Queen Banana

LINK TO “SOLE CRUSHER” REVIEW

After months of delays and waiting, the episode I've been dreading the most has finally aired. I feel like I was a little too harsh on “Truth”, “Lies”, and “Gang of Secrets”, because you know what? At least they tried. They tried to portray the Lukanette breakup in a serious matter. They tried to portray the Adrigami breakup in a serious manner. They TRIED to show the toll being Guardian was taking on Marinette mentally. Sure, they all failed miserably, but at least I can give them an A+ for effort.

This episode... does not get that. We all know that Astruc didn't even think of trying to portray the debut of Chloe's replacement with respect or dignity. This episode is absolutely, wholeheartedly, 100% Astruc's way to SPITE all of the people in the Miraculous fandom who liked Chloe or saw something good in her. He's already compared her to a controversial political figure, a slave owner, an abuser, and a rapist, so it's not like he's even worried about getting hate for the way he portrayed Chloe in this episode. After all, Chloe has always been an irredeemable monster, and anyone who says otherwise is just another one of Astruc's “haterz”.

So, after putting it off for so long, it's time for me to finally get into the eighth (chronologically the eighth and eighth episode in the season after “Mr Pigeon 72”) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Queen Banana.

We start out with something we rarely see in this show anymore, Marinette actually designing something. Yeah, remember she's a fashion designer? I think this is the first episode since “Cat Blanc” to highlight Marinette's creative side like this. She's designing costumes for a student film while supervised by the art teacher and one of his former students, the “famous director” Thomas Astruc.

Wasn't the whole reason Astruc's self-insert got akumatized in “Animaestro” because nobody actually gave a damn about him? Now he's a big name in the industry? Did the Ladybug and Cat Noir movie do that well with critics and audiences that it suddenly propelled him to stardom in less than a year? It's almost like Astruc threw in that line just to boost his own ego.

Of course, Chloe sees the news report on the movie and doesn't take the news where Zoe is the star well.

Well of course she has the lead role, she's supposed to replace y—oh, right. You meant the movie. Yeah, that's also a reasonable complaint.

Also, for some reason, she's eating some bananas, which Sabrina actually brought with them to the school. Why? Probably the same reason Chloe made a big deal about her family crushing losers underneath their shoes or some crap like that.

Even though she wanted no part in the movie before, now Chloe starts demanding to be the lead, threatening to sic her father on the production team.

We then get a montage of Chloe demanding the movie make changes, like a new heroine as the star called Queen Banana (TITLE DROP!), giving her a banana themed vehicle, making Adrien play a hostage for the villain, a dynamite throwing gorilla, and the extras to all praise the glory of Satan. Okay, that last one didn't really happen, but given all the stuff he's compared her to, would you really put it past Chloe to compare her to a Satinist?

This montage is yet another example of Astruc attacking the critics of the show, as well as executives who meddle in the show sometimes. There have been a handful of instances of Astruc claiming that because the show was written so far in advance, nothing can be changed.

Ignoring the fact that there are several examples of viewer response influencing production of a show, like how Legends of Tomorrow's fifth season premiere addressed and undid a lot of the things fans hated about the previous season, this is an incredibly ridiculous argument to make. For the love of God, the animators just had to change the design of a character last-minute THIS YEAR because they were accused of whitewashing!

Is that the only way something can be changed last-minute? To avoid getting bad press?

And of course, the episode tries to portray Astruc as the well-meaning creator who has to learn how frustrating the executives, I mean Chloe's meddling is.

In some regards, I get what he's going for, but it's a little hard to take his argument seriously when his planned script is intentionally upsetting people who DARE to have a different view on one of his characters.

After everyone gets fed up with Chloe's demands, they decide to film the whole thing behind her back, naturally pissing her off. She tries to get her father to come down on them, but it turns out Gabriel loved the whole thing, especially the part where Adrien obediently stayed in the cage while filming, causing Chloe to storm out. Adrien tries to confront her and get her to apologize.

SO. MANY. PROBLEMS.

First off, of course ADRIEN is the one to call out Chloe here. Sure, he was her biggest defender for the stuff she did, even scolding Marinette for being happy when it looked like she was going to leave Paris (and unintentionally set the events of “Miracle Queen” in place because he convinced Marinette to give her the Bee Miraculous again, but we're never going to acknowledge that), but he chooses NOW to demand she apologize? Not for attempting to Spider-Man 2 a train and risking a lot of lives, not for all the acts of sabotage she performed the entire show, not teaming up with Hawkmoth and exposing the identities of the other heroes, but it's THIS? Screwing up the production of a movie? It's not even the first time she's done this! Of all the things you could make the breaking point in Chloe and Adrien's relationship, it's this? Again, the events of “Miracle Queen” are never mentioned at all in this episode.

Second, you're having Adrien cite that bit from “Despair Bear”? First of all, that was so minor, it'll be hard for viewers to get the context or else they'll assume it happened off-screen. Second, Adrien went back the second he saw Chloe be mean to Marinette again at the end of that episode, playfully saying that “she'll never change”. Of course now, since it's Adrien, he always has to take the moral high ground, even if it doesn't line up with his previous interactions with Chloe.

Third, this is what makes Chloe give up on her friendship with Adrien? Not all the times he sided with Marinette? Not any of the times he foiled her schemes? It's the damn movie again? I thought he was your rich best friend to pamper? You're just giving up your arm candy like that? The writers are burning so many bridges, I think they're delirious from all the smoke they inhaled.

As Chloe storms off, Gabriel transforms into Shadowmoth and sends out an Akuma and an Amok to Chloe, transforming her into an Akuma called Queen Banana with a gorilla Sentimonster called Banana Boom Boom. Of course they gave it a stupid name like that. It's implied that with her specifically requesting certain powers and abilities as Queen Banana, as well as remembering what happened after she was de-evilized, Chloe intentionally accepted the akumatization. Do you hate Chloe yet? Come on, do you? Every minute you still like Chloe, the writers kill a colony of bees.

Queen Banana is... ugh... what can I even say about this? The animators intentionally gave her a stupid as all hell design that makes me wish she was Miracle Queen again. Again, the banana motif makes no sense, and it doesn't go with the Queen Bee motif. What inspired the animators to think this...

Looked anything remotely like THIS???

The car looks okay. It's been a while since we got an Akuma that had their own vehicle, but it feels redundant with the Sentimonster. Queen Banana's powers are stupid. All she can do on her own is turn people into bananas. That's it.

Her Sentimonster, Banana Boom B—okay, screw it, I'm calling this thing Knockoff Gorizilla. Deal with it. Knockoff Gorizilla has the power to throw exploding bananas that turn people into bananas. That's it.

So Queen Banana attacks the theater the movie was playing at (shooting Sabrina because she’s just that awful), and Marinette gets away with Zoe while Adrien transforms into Cat Noir. Zoe proposes reasoning with her, but Marinette says...

Yeah, screw reasoning with people! It's not like she just did that with Alya a few episodes ago to break her out of her akumatization, right? Chloe's bad to the core, and you should all hate her now.

Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir, and after some fighting with Queen Banana, summons her Lucky Charm. She really hit the jackpot today, as she got a Vespa, helmets, and everything needed to change a tire.

Ladybug isn't sure what to do, but then she sees Zoe come out like the hero she is. She actually plans to sacrifice herself to save Paris because she's just that awesome.

Cat Noir uses his cataclysm to buy some time while Ladybug and Zoe get away, but accidentally hits Knockoff Gorizilla, driving it out of control. Ladybug retreats with Zoe into a subway tunnel, where she hands her the Bee Miraculous. Of course, in an attempt to show she has character flaws, we see Zoe is unsure of herself, but that's only an excuse for Ladybug to praise her even more.

Wow, look at how humble Zoe is. Sure, she's brave, kind, and an amazing actress who is beloved by everyone, but this moment of vulnerability coupled with her vague past make her just as compelling of a character as Chloe. So Zoe takes the Bee Miraculous and transforms into the new Bee hero, Vesperia.

Okay... look. I'm sorry if I'm being overly negative here, and I feel like I was a little too easy on Pigella's design last time (looking back, I see a lot more flaws like the lack of a pig motif), but come on! In what world is this a bee? The Queen Bee design worked because there was a pattern that resembled the mixture of yellow and black stripes on a real life bee. The Vesperia design is just... what the hell is this? Why are there so many little V's on the suit? Why does she have two long bangs in her hair? Why does she have a mask that makes her look like she has a unibrow? With there being more black in the design than yellow, honestly looks more like Queen Wasp, which was meant to be the evil version of Queen Bee.

Actually, you know what? It's more like the suit the Black Canary wore during the final season of Arrow, a black jacket with hints of yellow.

In fact, Arrow did something very similar to what Miraculous Ladybug is doing right now.

During Arrow's fourth season, Laurel Lance, the first (technically second) Black Canary was killed by Damien Darhk, easily one of the most controversial writing decisions in the entire nine-year run of the Arrowverse (A: It was only for shock value. B: It was confirmed to be a last-minute decision by the writers, who set up one of the main characters to die in the season premiere, but didn't know who it would be until a few weeks before Laurel's final episode. C: The writers seriously thought the Black Canary wasn't an important character to the Green Arrow series, and they really should have learned from the backlash they got for killing off Sara Lance last season. D: Laurel's actress, Katie Cassidy, was informed her character was getting killed off two weeks before her death scene was filmed. E: Laurel was only stabbed by an arrow and had access to proper medical care but she still died. F: Laurel had only been the Black Canary for less than a year. G: Laurel's last words to Oliver were propping up the controversial romantic plotline with Felicity. H: This only fed into the theory that executive producer Marc Guggenheim hated Katie Cassidy with all the plotlines he gave her character to deliberately make her unlikable, and then killed her off just when fans were starting to warm up to her. I: Nothing was ever done to bring her back, not even the reality-altering Spear of Destiny or Oliver recreating the multiverse himself. J: We got two separate instances of the writers teasing the audience with the possibility of her return, one where someone stole Laurel's gear, and another with Laurel's evil Earth-2 counterpart, Black Siren).

The next season, we were introduced to the second Black Canary, Dinah Drake. While nobody explicate said she was meant to be better than Laurel, it's clear the writers thought so (A: She's a metahuman with a sonic scream, while Laurel could only recreate the Black Canary's iconic power through a sonic device. B: She's a police officer with a connection to the law, just like how Laurel was the district attorney. C: Her name is the same as the original Golden Age Black Canary, just like how Laurel was named after the second Black Canary). Her debut episode is spent with everyone going on about how awesome she is. Oliver claims that she has better control over her sonic scream than the villainous Black Siren, who once destroyed a skyscraper with her power. One character even described these contrived coincidences as “fate”. She also dashed any fan's hopes that Black Siren would get a redemption arc (she would later get one, but it didn't start until halfway through next season), and replaced Ragman's (while overpowered for this show, was still a more interesting character because of his connection to Felicity) spot on the team. It doesn't help that the editors gave Dinah easily the dumbest-sounding canary cry ever, which sounds more like a turkey being strangled instead of a sonic scream.

Okay, I know what you're thinking: What does this have to do with Zoe? Well, much like how Dinah's debut episode was spent telling the audience how amazing she is as a replacement for Laurel, the last few minutes of this episode are spent hyping up how much better Vesperia is than Queen Bee.

WE GET IT, OKAY? Vesperia is super awesome and incredible and anyone who likes Queen Bee is a brain-dead moron. If you have to tell the audience to like a new character instead of showing any reasons the audience should like them, chances are you need to refresh your writing skills. It was writing like this that made Dinah Drake easily one of the more polarizing characters in Arrow's eight year run, and I have a feeling that Zoe will be viewed the same way in the future given how her hero debut has gone.

So Vesperia taunting Queen Banana (I'm not sure if it's an act or not, but it wouldn't surprise me if it wasn't an act) manages to distract her, while Ladybug uses some glue from her Lucky Charm to jam Queen Banana's banana gun in its holster while Vesperia takes the bullet for Ladybug instead of Cat Noir, only further showing how selfless she is.

So Ladybug de-evilizes Queen Banana, but Chloe still yells at both her and the super amazing Vesperia for being better than Queen Bee in every way. Ladybug tries to give her a charm to prevent her from getting akumatized again, but Chloe refuses because she's just so evil. This is enough for Shadowmoth to send another Akuma after Chloe, even though he literally just sent out one. Does this mean Shadowmoth can recharge quicker, or did he recharge offscreen?

Apparently, in order for the charm to work, Chloe has to want it, even though in the very next episode that airs, Ladybug just sneaks a charm onto Audrey without her knowing. Thankfully, Zoe, as always, has a great idea. She tricks Chloe into thinking that the charm is from their mother, which does make some sense as Chloe didn't even see the charm before knocking it away. But yeah, this episode once again teaches kids that lying is okay as long as the heroes do it. Yes, it's for a good purpose, but the narrative doesn't really frame it that way or point out what makes Zoe different in any way from Lila.

So for once in his life, Andre actually decides to scold his daughter by refusing to send Zoe back to New York, and even though she accepts the charm (alerting Shadowmoth to their effect on potential Akuma victims), Chloe still says she will get her revenge on Zoe before angrily storming out, and the episode ends with this exchange between Marinette and Tikki.

NO. 

Don't even THINK about doing this. Astruc has insulted anyone who likes Chloe or had the slightest problem with her “damnation arc” for a solid YEAR AND A HALF. I know where this is going. They're going to continue building Chloe up as a menace to society bigger than Shadowmoth while Zoe is this completely pure angel. I mean after all, Chloe has already been replaced. She's served her purpose, and now Zoe will take the spot as the far superior Vesperia.

“Every Girl is a Super Hero”. Well, every girl except Chloe Bourgeois, judging from the ending image of the episode, which has even more blatant symbolism.

See, look at this! While Zoe is covered in bright yellow colors while holding the Bee Miraculous with Pollen next to her, Chloe is covered in purple because she's PURE EVIL! Anyone who likes her is a complete psychopath, right?

Some people have asked me why I care so much about Chloe as a character and her failed arc. The answer to that is a little personal. On my main blog, I call myself “One of the Five People Who Actually Liked Ghost”. I say that because of how despite the negative reputation it has among Kamen Rider fans, I like Kamen Rider Ghost. It's by no means a perfect series. There are several plot developments that go nowhere during the second half, and the final villain is very uninteresting while the finale had a shoehorned cameo from the next Kamen Rider. But despite all of that, I never hesitate to call Kamen Rider Ghost my favorite superhero of all time because of the impact he had on the way I view heroism as a whole.

The titular character, Takeru, was killed on his 18th birthday, and had to find fifteen Eyecons (MacGuffins with the souls of historical figures) in order to get a wish he could use on himself before he fades away. Early on, he has a rival in the form of another Kamen Rider, Kamen Rider Specter, who was also after the Eyecons, but it was only to save his sister's life. Even the main villains, the Ganma, weren't complete monsters. Some of them had noble qualities, and some even absolved their evil ways. Takeru in general is my favorite superhero because he reached out to a lot of the villains in the show and helped them change for the better. Even people who don't like Kamen Rider Ghost love the character arc Kamen Rider Necrom went through, learning to appreciate humanity with some help from Takeru.

Before I watched Kamen Rider Ghost, I had a very black and white view of the world. I thought that evil needed to be punished, and if the heroes didn't make the villains suffer in any way, they were cowards who weren't willing to do whatever it took to stop them. After I saw all of the ways Takeru reached out to others, and the complex motivations of the “antagonists”, I really saw being a hero in a new light. Because of Kamen Rider Ghost, I had learned that a true hero isn't measured by their strength, but by their compassion and ability to reach out to others, no matter who they are, and see the good in them.

Astruc is the exact opposite of this mentality. He believes that if you do anything bad in your life, change is impossible. It's best to be antagonistic to others and embrace hostility if you get into a disagreement with someone. After all, you're standing up to bullies, so you're not wrong to escalate the conflict.

This is an incredibly dangerous lesson to teach anyone, especially children. Yes, there are times where diplomacy won't work, but violence should only be a last resort. Outside of de-evilizing Akumas, when has this show ever shown a character using diplomacy to peacefully end a conflict? The few attempts I've seen (Adrien confronting Lila, Ladybug peacefully asking Hawkmoth to hand over his Miraculous) have failed miserably.

We live in an age where it's very easy for a conflict to escalate online, where people can have their lives ruined thanks to the efforts to angry mobs on the internet who disagree with them. I have seen people harassed online all because they shared a differing opinion. What if someone, no matter how old they are, takes away the wrong lesson here and decides to escalate a conflict? Things could end poorly.

Even putting aside the implications of the message, this is still a terrible way to deal with a bully. If you want to teach kids how to deal with bullies, retaliation is not what you should do. That can only make them want to bully you even more, to get on your buttons. Bullies want a reaction. They want to see their victims get all emotional. If you try yelling or attacking your bully, you're not standing up to them, you're only making yourself more vulnerable in an effort to fire back. Nobody should learn this lesson. This lesson is so many shades of wrong.

And now that these episodes are finally over and any hope Chloe might become a better person has been completely decimated, what did I think of them? Well, aside from a few hiccups here and there, they actually weren't that—okay, what do you think?

Yeah, these two episodes have officially dethroned “Felix” as the worst episodes of Miraculous Ladybug in my opinion.

The writing is ridiculous, and the attempts to make the audience like Zoe while giving us no reason to like her other than ramping up Chloe's negative traits to an absurd level, the action was mostly forgettable (though that's been par for the course this season), and of course, the metatextual stuff was frustrating as always. I'm glad Astruc seemingly learned his lesson by having his self-insert take a backseat this episode compared to what he was like in “Animaestro”, but I still don't get why he thought this was a good idea. The first act of this episode was basically insulting fans and executives who liked Chloe and offer suggestions on how to improve this show. Don't like the ideas? Don't think the show can be changed last-minute? Great! You're entitled to your opinion, so don't be surprised when you get a little backlash from fans and critics when they don't like your work, and you especially don't make an entire episode calling them out for it.

And of course, here is the main question I have with the treatment of this character: What exactly was the point of Chloe's “damnation arc”? I don't want to hear anyone like Astruc say what he wanted the audience to feel like they were “betrayed”. What exactly was the purpose of dedicating eleven episodes to setting up a character to be a hero, doing a piss-poor job at giving them character development, having them betray the heroes by working with the villains when you already had another character to do that, replacing them with a brand-new character with the personality of an underbaked sugar cookie instead of making them the hero in the first place, and then claiming that all this was entirely planned from the start and insulting anyone who has a problem with it? Why dedicate so much time to a character arc that went absolutely nowhere and then mock fans for getting invested in it? Why even bother doing ANY OF THIS???

I don't care if you like or hate Chloe, there is just no excuse to waste this much time on what basically amounted to a filler arc. At the end of the day, you could have just made Zoe Vesperia in Season 2 and nothing would have changed. You could have just made Lila Miracle Queen at the end of Season 3 and nothing would have changed. I know I'm not a professional writer, but I just don't get the point of this storyline in any way outside of a personal reason. This is why I believe Chloe was based off a real person. There has to be a story behind Chloe as a character. No creator should hate their own creation this much. You could give me an all-access tour of ZAG Studios and I wouldn't believe Chloe isn't based off someone in real life unless I heard if from Thomas Astruc himself, and even then, I'm not sure if I'd even believe him.

Call it whatever you want; blind optimism, naivete, or just plain stupidity, but I am the kind of person who tries to see the good in others, no matter what they do. There are only a select number of people that I see as complete monsters, and most of them are famous historical dictators. Chloe is nowhere near that level of evil, and I can't believe that a grown man in his mid-fourties believes this. I'm not even sure if I should feel frustration, pity, or a combination of both when it comes to Astruc.

Why he feels this way, we may never know for sure outside of theories, but you should know this: showing compassion is not a weakness. It's important to at least try to see the good in others and reach out to them. Make an effort to help someone out, as hard as it may be. Trying to help others or even trying to change yourself is proof that you aren't as close-minded as Thomas Astruc is.

[javierpinme]

The Catalyst

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: sexual tension, mention of Cara Dune is its own warning

Rating: T

Summary: You don't know why you thought you could make it one day without fighting with Mando. The tension has been building for a while and it looks like you're about to reach the conclusion of it.

A/N: I originally sent this in as a thot as an anon hoping I would finally stop thinking about it, but alas I couldn’t so here we are. I originally uploaded this on AO3 a week ago and realized that I never put it on here.

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The cheers of the villagers are a complete contrast to the earlier events filled with screams, flesh tearing, and blasters firing. The threat of the raiders is over. Mando and you have made it out alive with zero casualties. The only acknowledgement between the two of you after Cara and him solved the problem of the AT-ST is a stiff nod. Anything more than that would reveal your hidden feelings; you're not ready to unpack that one just yet. The adrenaline of the ordeal is shifting into a state of exhaustion. The familiar ache seeping into your joints and muscles that usually follows post-battle.

Mando is tired too. You can see it in the way he slumps his shoulders and his slower than normal strides with Cara. You walk to your temporary living situation and don't even bother to remove your clothes that more than likely have blood on it. You'll deal with your dirty sheets in the morning. You sit down on the edge of your cot and your boots are mocking you. Why did you have to pick shoe wear that involves you bending to untie them? Your muscles are screaming at you to relieve the tension building. There aren't that many comforts in the galaxy, but even the cot felt like a 5 star hotel bed when you feel like this. Mando comes into the hut shortly after though he never removes his armor. You respect his creed, but there wasn't a threat anymore. It can't be comfortable sleeping like that, but telling him would make it seem like you care. You don't, of course.

You don't usually feel the need to fill the silence, but you find yourself filling it. Goodnight. There's a pause from the other side of the hut and your mind starts running that you crossed an unspoken invisible line that the two of you created. Then you hear it. Goodnight.

There's warmth from the sun rays spilling onto your features when the sun starts to rise. You can see children running around off in the distance and you can't help the smile forming on your face hearing their laughter. They more than likely haven't known peace since the raiders started their wrath. It felt good to have played a role in that.

The stretch you do lying in the cot feels wonderful on your back. Out of the corner of your eye you see Mando in a similar state of relaxation. His hands are folded behind his head and his ankles crossed. He must have noticed you were awake, because he immediately breaks the moment by leaving. Does he ever stay still? You can't help the drawn out sigh that falls from your lips and close your eyes to take in the sounds surrounding you.

The sound of heavy footsteps cause you to open your eyes along with the feeling of something being placed on your on the edge of your cot. Breakfast. He brought you breakfast. Good morning, thanks. Morning. He says with a grunt at your appreciation of bringing you food. You lift yourself up with a groan to a seated position and enjoy the moment. It was too quiet.

You’re not even sure how you got here. The reason for your argument in the first place was drowned out by your inner need for dominance. You were at a slight disadvantage due to the towering presence of beskar, but what you did have going for you was your stubbornness and smart retort to his intimidation tactics.  You’re both vibrating with unresolved tension with no chance of release; nothing to redirect what you’re feeling so resorting to your usual vices which is screaming at each other.  

It wasn’t always like this. You used to make him laugh underneath that tin can sometimes. Sometime between being just a crew member to whatever it was that was beginning to develop between the two of you that was when the fights started. It was easier than dealing with the latter. The galaxy was too harsh for allowing anyone to feel love without anguish following closely behind. The only communication you seemed to agree on was silence, yelling, and sarcasm. It was easier that way.

You’re in Sorgan and it’s pouring outside. He’s trying to get you to go inside, but you’re so damn stubborn you refuse just out of spite. It doesn’t even matter that your clothes are soaked causing your body’s response to the freezing temperature. He can probably hear your teeth chattering from where he’s standing. The thunder and lightning isn’t helping. It adds another layer of the already volatile situation you’ve both found yourselves in. Why is it so fucking cold?

Dammit you’ll get sick. You’re not useful to me if you’re bedridden.

That’s it. That’s the catalyst. You're not sure if he can even see the glare you're giving him in the darkness, but you hope he does. You can’t stand to be in the same room with him anymore. Even just the thought of hearing him breathe at this point is a nuisance. It’s almost too much. It will kill you, you’re sure of it. I’m bunking with Cara. He’s lost his patience. You can tell from the heaving of his chest, but you can’t find it in you to care. You don’t need to see his face to know there is a scowl under there. You’re surprised you can’t see smoke coming out of that helmet. Why isn’t he saying anything? His body is so rigid and tense. You might have gone too far this t-

What are you doing?!

 He’s thrown you over his shoulders to carry you back to the hut you share. It’s like you don’t even weigh anything even with the extra weight your soaked clothes add. You would be impressed with his strength if you weren’t supposed to pretend how much you hated it so you thrash your legs in protest. You liked the screaming better. Now you feel like he’s treating you like a petulant child by giving you the silent treatment. He’s trying to make you look like the one with the temper tantrum because there might be witnesses. You’d be surprised if you didn’t wake up the whole village. He can probably feel how freezing you are and puts you down. Without saying another word he kneels down in front of the fireplace to create warmth in the room. The only sounds filling the room are the crackle of the fire and your own shallow breaths.

Your clothes. Take it off or I will.

You know you can’t keep your clothes on. You know you need to change into something dry, but you refuse again just to establish you’re the one in control. You’re in control. Not him. Realistically you’re aware you could get sick and you would probably need to stay in bed. Then you briefly wonder if he has a filter in that helmet because you’d definitely sneeze in his face if he didn’t.  How can you change when he’s made no move to even turn around?

It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

What?

You had argued about god knows what and you left to blow off steam the day before. By the time you made it back the hue in the hut changed from that orange soft glow that golden hour usually brings to a soft blue. It would have been pretty if you weren’t so damn annoyed still. Mando was asleep thankfully so no awkward dance of trying to ignore the other in close quarters. You watched the soft rise and fall of his chest signaling he was indeed asleep. He was almost tolerable when he was sleeping even with the snoring. Almost cute. Almost. It didn’t matter that you never saw what was under the helmet, but you would never give him any indication of that. You were so tired. You were physically drained from the day so you took off your clothes haphazardly and changed into a nightshirt to sleep your frustrations away. Tomorrow will be better.

You were awake the whole time and didn’t say anything? You seethed.

You seemed to be having trouble and I didn’t want to hear your complaining when you inevitably tripped.

He’s challenging you. You’re both very well aware the dam could break based on your next move and he’s not going to lay out all his cards. Would the fighting even stop? Even with the resolve of all your combined tension? You’re taking too long and he’s staring. It’s hard to tell when all you see is a black abyss in place for eyes, but you can feel them boring into yours with loathing or is it desire?

You’re going to get sick if you don’t change.

He cares, but he would never give you any indication of that. He takes a step towards you to let you know he wasn’t lying about his earlier statement. If you’re going to do this you’re going to make a fuss about it. It’s childish, yes, but you don’t have it in you to care. It’s better than laying out all your cards. He can’t enjoy this if you’re glaring at him. I hate you. No, you don’t.

Never losing eye contact you start untying your boots. Glare. The cool air is doing nothing to calm your heated skin after your shirt is removed, but you can’t decide if the temperature is rising from anger or something else. Don’t enjoy this. Too late. The rain is still roaring outside and there’s almost an electric charge in the room waiting to spark. It’s too quiet. Then he says,

Glare all you want but this is doing something for me.