#ohhhh my god oh jesus christ

[t4tstarvingdog]

love is in the blowjob. again

[solipseismic]

"the dems are pro-genocide" "harris is just as supportive of genocide as biden" and what. do you think. the republicans think. of american imperialism and genocide? please. do let me know.

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Can you do one where reader and him are best friends and he walks in on her changing and they both get really flustered? from his pov?

Delicate point of view

A/N: THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!!! So sorry for not getting back to it!! My apps been buggy and hasn’t been showing me any submissions but it’s starting to work again!! I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for this… thank you for the support my loves. I adore each and every one of you!!

This as requested will be in Harry’s POV but I’ll be using ‘him’ I can just write easier that way instead of using ‘I’ and of course adding in ‘you/y/n’ whenever applicable. I hope that’s okay my love. Thank you again for the request!!

Pairings: Harry x insecure! Reader (decided it could make it more cute!!) exact weight/ body not specified to be all inclusive for different insecurities!!

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

-

Harry had, had a busy day at the recording studio. He was a busy man with a busy schedule and sometimes it was impossible to spend time with those he loved however he had found some time to finally spend some time to relax with you— his best friend. You had been his friend for a long time, since childhood practically. You had both seen each other grow. He had seen you on your best days and worst days and had seen you grow into a mature beautiful woman. He always adored you, seeing you as the most gorgeous person ever but he never made any advances upon you. Not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t know how you felt, you sometimes seemed like you wanted him but then at other points you seemed to not want him…. Whether that be due to insecurity or fear of something certain he couldn’t of been sure but gods did he wish he could be with you sometimes. You were both intimate people whom adored one another but nothing ever pushed you guys over the edge of dipping your toes into the depths of love.

He slowly pushed your front door open, he had sent you a message letting you know he was coming to yours for a bit and you were in the shower but your phone had been left on the messages so it indicated you had seen it so Harry walked into the home, quietly shutting the door behind him. He then began walking upstairs wandering into your room gently pushing the door open “y/n I’m here and—“ “HARRY!!” His words were cut off by your voice as you stood there wide eyed dressed in just your underwear and bra. “ohhhh… shit.” He cussed as you both stared at each other wide eyed, his eyes trailed up and down your body a flush of red covering his face his green eyes wide as he admired you thoroughly, he could’ve looked at you all day- admiring all the curves on your body. The tone of your skin… the way your skin looked so soft and delectable… it made his heart race. You genuinely looked perfect to him. His eyes continued scanning up and down your body, unable to look away. Harry had always been the perfect match for you, you were insecure and desperately needed someone to uplift you. Sometimes your weight and body in general scared you and Harry didn’t hesitate to- as your best friend- assure you that weight didn’t matter. Assure you that a real man or a real mature human being would love you as you were… but still right now you were scared shitless. What if he thought you were ugly? you were just unable to speak in general too shocked and rather horrified that your handsome best friend was here staring at you practically nude. Your mouth opened and closed over and over again like a fish, unable to get your words out until eventually— “Harry cover your eyes!!!” Came from your lips and Harry quickly threw a hand over his eyes his ring covered fingers covering his eyes “Jesus Christ y/n..” he chuckled shaking his head “don’t peak!! I swear to god harry,” his cheeks were flushed bright red and he only laughed keeping his eyes covered, “don’t laugh Harry oh my god!! How embarrassing. Oh my god my best friend just saw me nude!” He continued chuckling at your rambling and just for your comfort to make you more comfortable he turned around.

His hands rested on his hips as he stared at the door listening to you rummage around clearly trying to get dressed “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much, y/n.” He spoke. “Because YOU Harry fucking styles!! My BEST FRIEND!! Saw me…. Nude! Saw my body!” He could see your shadow moving slightly proving your hands were moving about as you practically freaked out more. He laughed still bright red “not completely nude…” “Harry! Not the point!” His dimples appeared as he grinned.

He heard you groan slightly as you nearly tripped up from putting on your jeans so quickly, your hands trembling your face flushed and your eyes watering fearfully. Harry was genuinely the kindest human being ever but still it terrified you for him to see you like this. “You okay?” He asked and you nodded, before eventually remembering he couldn’t see you and murmuring a quiet “yeah.”

You pulled on your T-shirt as finally you were fully dressed again and Harry turned around looking at you with a small smile before his smile disappeared “hey… what’s the matter?” His brows furrowed concerned and he walked towards you only for you to step backwards “y/n… hey.” He reached out grabbing onto your trembling hands holding onto your hands securely before he brought your hands up to his lips pressing soft kisses to your hands “what’s wrong. You look like you’re about to cry,” he pointed out concerned for you watching as you tried to shy away but he gently cupped your cheek in his hand. He knew the look on your face, he wasn’t stupid, he saw the insecurity the way the fear and sadness flashed before your eyes and he exhaled softly “let me guess… you’re afraid I think you’re ugly?” His words hurt your heart and you looked at him, your lower lip trembling slightly giving him the answer he needed. Sure you were both only best friends but he was always so tender with you. “Darling… don’t be silly. You’re beautiful inside and out… and seeing you without clothes on…. You’re just more gorgeous.” He spoke with a reassuring smile. “Really?” And he nodded his head “of course really. Cant you see my face..?” He chuckled out and you took time to finally examine his face cheeks bright red, eyes glistening, and a wide smile on his face his dimples very apparent. “Oh…” you trailed off softly and he smiled before holding your face in his hands stroking his thumbs against your cheeks lovingly “you’re so so beautiful… the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Soon in a rather intimate way Harry leaned in to press soft kisses against your forehead, before trailing the kisses down your cheeks, across your nose, to your other cheek and down to your chin gently avoiding your lips “every part of you. Your nose…. Your cheeks… your lips.. your eyes… your body. All of you is… perfection.” He always knew how you were insecure, how you tried to fit in how perfect you tried to be how the pressure of society was nowadays to have a “perfect” body and perfect face. “Do you really think I’m beautiful? Perfect?” You asked with teary eyes and he nodded his head slowly “of course.” He continued stroking his thumbs against your cheeks softly “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again… whatever you weigh. Whatever anybody weighs… to the right person… it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But there’ll always be judgemental people out there… but no matter what my love… you’re beautiful…. Fuck what anyone else thinks. You’re my best friend and I think you’re perfect. I know you’re perfect.”

You smiled staring into his eyes watching as he began getting closer and closer until his lips were brushing against yours in a subtle kiss, as if making sure it was okay with you, but you didn’t respond— too shocked, but at you not pulling back, he took that as a yes and leaned in kissing you more deeply pressing his lips hard against yours but the tenderness remained, his hand caressing against your cheek, before eventually he pulled back after a singular kiss to look into your eyes “and… also…” his thumb brushed against your cheek “butterflies can’t see their wings, but they’re beautiful without knowing it.” His lips curved into a small smile as your smile slowly grew and you leaned in kissing him realising just how perfect you both were for each other… the butterflies within your stomach swirled desperately. Oh how you loved him and oh how he loved you.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

TW: NSFW, dubcon if you squint

You are laying in bed, not sleeping, feeling sorry for yourself when your phone rings on your bedside table. You don’t recognize the number, so you answer with a cautious, “Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You pause a long beat, and not because you don’t recognize the voice on the other end. “How the ever-loving fuck did you get this number?”

It’s Officer Tom Ludlow, of course. Just what you need, on this night from Hell.

“I’m a detective, remember?” You can just hear the self-satisfied smirk, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of you, because tonight you just might have slapped him.

You use your moderately adequate brain for some deductive reasoning of your own, and realize, “You took my number from Julian’s phone. After you assaulted him.”

On the other end he lets out a long whistle. “Baby, that’s such a strong word.”

“Do not call me baby.”

“Alright. Sweetheart.”

“God, you are such a fucking caveman.”

“Thank you.”

You sigh, too fucking tired for this shit. Your heart feels like a chewed up piece of gum, and your lady parts are pulsing angrily at you for ruining their evening earlier.

They like the sound of Tom’s deep voice in your ear, and that is so not good.

“You okay?”

The question actually takes you aback, because the smarmy shit-eating tone is gone, and he sounds…serious?

“I guess. Why?”

“That doesn’t sound okay.”

“Why do you think it’s any of your goddamned business?”

“I told you. If Dr. Bitch hurts you, it is my business.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” you grumble. In fact, he didn’t really do much of anything to you. Now that more time has passed, the more annoyed you are about that.

Fuck if Detective Ludlow doesn’t seem to hear that in your voice too. “Ohhhh. Sounds like the Good Doctor didn’t hit anything?” 

“Oh my god. I hate you. Do you know that?”

He gives a low chuckle that absolutely goes straight to your deprived pussy, and you squirm a little in bed, so grateful he can’t see you.

“You wish you hated me.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Don’t hang up, pretty girl. Tell me what you’re wearing.” His voice dips low, and smooth as velvet.

Every hair on your body lifts in response to this, your nipples pebbling into painful points. Bastard.

“A parka.”

“Pshh. You sleep in a parka? Come on, baby.” How effective that soft, coaxing tone is at dissolving your inhibitions is alarming. You can almost see yourself, as though standing at the edge of a great abyss. If you jump…there will be no going back. 

“Fine. I’ll use my own imagination. I think you’re wearing…a cute little lacy negligee that just floats on your luscious curves…”

Well, you guess you’re getting a picture of what he likes.

“Jesus Christ. I’m wearing a tank top, you pervert,” you grouse, trying to shatter his fantasy. Nevermind the fact that you are now soaking wet, again.

“Nice. No panties?”

“I am wearing panties.”

“You aren’t going to need ‘em. Do you know what I’d do to you, after dinner, my beautiful nurse?”

“Gee, I bet you’re going to fucking tell me.”

“Oh come on. We’re having fun.”

“You are having fun.”

“But you’re still listening.”

Well, he has you there, the smug sonofabitch.

“Maybe.”

He chuckles at the other end of the line, a low sound that makes you clench with need.

“You’ve got to answer a question for me first.”

“What?”

“You’ve got to dip into that sweet little pussy for me, and tell me how wet you are on the scale from one to ten.” 

You should rip him a new one for this. Or just hang up. Why can’t you just hit the button and end this nonsense? But then…you’d be alone. Your real-time reaction is less dignified, but maybe more honest. 

You laugh.

It starts as a giggle, then crescendos into an all out guffaw. “Tom…you are a nut.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, and goddamn if you don’t actually start to feel better. “Oh come on baby, don’t hold out on me. I’ve got a solid ten inches in my hand for you here.”

This makes you laugh even harder. “Ten inches?!”

“Ok. Maybe nine and a half.” 

You giggle, and you can’t stop. “I don’t know if I can handle all that, Officer Ludlow.”

You don’t know how his voice lowers even more, as he says, “Oh, I know you can take it. Don’t worry, I’ll ease it in nice and slow.”

Suddenly the bubbles of laughter in your gut go flat, replaced with an aching heat that sears your insides, your clit throbbing in response to his dirty mouth. It’s possible a kittenish little sound squeaks from the back of your throat.

You really don’t know where you get the courage to ask softly, “Yeah? Then what?”

“Then I would kiss all over those pretty, soft titties. I want those perfect nips in my mouth.”

You know you make a sound then, and he surely hears it. “Will you check them for me? Lick your fingers and give them a pinch.”

“You are ridiculous.” It comes out small, and breathy, and it doesn’t really sound like an insult at all. So what, if you do as he tells you? And so fucking what, if imaging it’s his hands on you makes you feverish with desire, a spear of longing throbbing in your cunt.

He doesn’t answer you right away, which means he’s busy with something else. Maybe Tom is just as pent up as you are from all this edging the two of you have been putting each other through. 

“Are you.. are you really?” You ask, hating how your voice exposes the fact that you’re not only pinching your nipples, but borderline feeling yourself up at the sound of his hiking breath. 

“Yeah, honey, I am.”

“Oh,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think of. Your cunt is screaming below about how she wants to talk to Tom Ludlow because you’re doing a shit job at it. 

“Ah, fuck. Are you doing what I told you?” 

“No.”

“Good. Lick your fingers again, circle those pretty nipples for me. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my tongue. Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits so bad.” 

He doesn’t have to know that you’re following orders. That you’re grinding on the bunched blanket between your legs while you imagine his big, rude hands playing with your tits instead of your own.

“You listening to me, beautiful girl?”

“Yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.” 

“Good job. And too late.” 

“I do hate you, you know. I’m serious.” It has no real venom; in fact, it sounds more like a term of endearment at this point. 

He laughs. “C’mon, tell me how soaked she is.”

She’s flooded, is the answer. She’s dampening the pressed comforter, she’s throbbing and screaming and crying and pulsing to the tempo of his black coffee voice. 

You’re not much for vocals when you get off. You have neighbors that already have to hear about your dreams, and the act itself seems like more business than pleasure sometimes. When you were younger, you shared a room with your two sisters, so you learned to be quiet and discreet about rubbing your pussy. That all flies out the window when you sink two fingers into your sopping cunt at Tom’s direction. 

“10,” you hiss, straining to hit your gspot. Maybe you really do need to invest in one of those toys Sheila is always elbowing you about.

“Oh, poor baby.” Your walls flutter violently at his mocking tone. 

“I thought you were going to tell me what you would do to me after dinner?” Maybe you’re desperate, or just stupid. It doesn’t really matter when all you want is to orgasm on Tom’s voice.

“Thought I was? Didn’t I tell you about how I’m gonna dip into that sweet wet pussy, and play with your little clit with my thumb while I fuck you with this big cock? How do you like it, honey? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”

You make a strangled little sound–because your fingers are just not enough, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not here with you, filling you up, holding you down with those calloused hands and that filthy, insatiable, mouth.

“What was that?” 

His voice is strained, and you think you’re not the only one in pain here.

“Slow,” you answer. “At first.” Why exactly are you handing him this ammunition? How stupid, how dangerous, to offer up the keys to your undoing? You know he will only use this information against you.

“Mmm.” His breathing is labored, and the thought of him with his cock out, stroking himself to this dirty talk is almost too much to stand. Julian had you trussed and at his mercy right in front of him, but couldn’t keep it up. All Tom Ludlow needs is the sound of your voice. After the night you’ve had, that alone is nearly enough to make you cum.

“But then I like it deep,” you pant. “You think you got what it takes?”

“Baby, I’ve got everything you need.”

You are trying to be as quiet as you can, while you abuse your clit with your two middle fingers, practically holding your breath, getting high on the oxygen deprivation. You’re too quiet, you suppose.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Gotta let me hear it when you cum for me.”

“Or what?” you grouse. “Maybe I’m just…mixing pancake batter.” 

His laughter is strained, and you just know he’s close. “Or you’ll regret it, sweet girl. When I finally get these hands on you? Mmm I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you cum without mercy.” 

Again, you can’t help but compare the versions of punishment to the men in your life. Julian wants to hurt you. Tom just wants to make you cum.

“Fuck.���

“Yeah? You there, baby?”

You try to just breathe through your nose, to not give him the satisfaction–but you fail spectacularly.

“Y/n?” He calls, singing your name and making it sound so pretty and good and special. 

“Y-yeah?”

“You coming with me? I’m waiting for you.”

You’re right there, dangling over that sweet, slippery precipice that you can usually ease yourself over carefully. Tom gives you a little shove, and you’re plummeting. 

“That’s my girl.” He doesn’t sound much better off than you while you sob from the unexpected, haywire orgasm. 

It takes a long minute for you to come back to earth, come back to breathless Tom who isn’t saying anything for once in his life. 

That pleasant, floaty post coital bliss gets stained with shame when the clarity of who you just mutually masturbated with hits you. 

He talks first, what a surprise. “Do you feel better?”

“No.” But then, “a little bit.”

“At least one of us does.” You hear him shuffling around on the other end, maybe opening a fridge. It makes you smile to think of him jerking off at his kitchen table. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why in God’s name are you still entertaining this conversation? You both got what you wanted, and if you stay here too long listening to his voice you’re going to be right back where you started—ready for round two. 

“I won’t feel better until you’re mine.” He sounds humorless, which worries you in itself even without the possessive words added. “C’mon, sweet nurse, aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”  

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. I never will.”

“Oh? Bullshit.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

Almost as if he knows you’re full of it, or maybe he just doesn’t care about talking into an empty phone line, he continues. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted a man to take care of you? Protect you, defend you, fuck anyone up who even thinks to raise a hand or word against you?”

Honestly? That’s all you’ve ever wanted, although you’ll take that admittance to your grave. After a lifetime of taking care of other people, having someone to do that for you in return sounds like a castle in the sky. But, the thing about castles in skies? They’re imaginary. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess, you’d do all that and more?” Maybe the venomous sarcasm is a little too mean. 

He sighs as if you’re the one assaulting his date, stealing his number, and then calling to harass and annoy him. “Okay, tough girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“No you won’t.” 

“Mm. Night, beautiful.” 

You wait for him to hang up. He doesn’t. You don’t, either. You feel his grin blossoming through the white noise of the line, listen to him rustle about, hear bottles clinking, water running, fabric swishing. Your eyes get heavy to the sounds of his nightly routine, lashes threatening to touch cheek. 

His voice is void of its usual gruff when it permeates the pleasant, strange, foggy land between awake and unconscious. “Baby?”

“Mm, yeah?” You try to make your mouth move properly, but the words come jumbled and slurred, weighted with exhaustion. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 407: Wait Why Are You Running Away

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan figured out how to control his quirk upgrade and was totally chill and normal about it. Definitely not terrifying at all. He actually spent the entire chapter smiling and laughing like the wholesome little boy he is. I don’t know why Kid For One is so freaked out about it. He even politely introduced himself using his childhood nickname. Clearly he just wants to be friends with you, KFO!

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “sorry to keep you waiting, here’s the AFO and Yoichi flashback you ordered at long last” and proceeds to serve a nightmarish stew of HUMAN MISERY and RATS and STABBING and CARNAGE and SO MUCH MURDER and THE SINGLE MOST FUCKED-UP CASE OF CODEPENDENCY ANYONE HAS EVER WRITTEN. I was not even remotely prepared for any of this, and if anyone else claims that they were, I will call you a liar to your face. If this chapter had a mouth it would scream. Or just sob, ceaselessly and uncontrollably. I’m really glad Horikoshi is on break next week because that man needs to take a fucking nap. My god.

okay WOW

anyone else read the first two words and just immediately say to themselves, “oh okay, so it’s gonna be one of those chapters”? I mean, I guess we were due for a darker chapter after last week’s Kacchan Comedy Tour. but idk, I just wasn’t expecting “homeless sick prostitute with a drinking problem” levels of dark

AND SHE’S PREGNANT?!

what exactly is this manga rated again? doesn’t this backstory seem just a little bit raw for the impressionable kiddos??

has anyone actually checked in on Horikoshi recently? you know, just to make sure he is okay??

what a fun and wholesome manga this is

the lil baby arm covered in blood with the AFO hole on the palm. lying next to the dead mom hand. what an image to sear into our minds. I guess it’s been a while since he killed any dogs. gotta keep us on our toes somehow

also wasn’t expecting AFO and Yoichi to be twins! that puts an interesting spin on their relationship, because it’s usually a closer bond than even regular siblings. especially with all of that delightful shared trauma from a young age!!

yes, exactly

ohhhh this chapter is gonna hurt me, isn’t it. okay. ooooooookay. let’s do this

OH I’M SORRY, THERE’S MORE?!

Horikoshi my dude. you do realize that their mom dying in childbirth and the two of them just barely surviving and growing up as street orphans would have already been MORE than tragic enough, backstory-wise. you did not have to turn this into a freaking horror show with RATS TRYING TO EAT THEIR NEWBORN SELVES jesus christ

and THAT’S where you chose to put a one year timeskip?!

what the fuck am I reading here, you guys. no please tell me, I am actually desperate to understand

so the narrator is saying that some of the quirks manifested later in life, in “pubescent and pre-pubescent stages”, which is interesting because it’s the first time I can recall hearing about someone actually manifesting a quirk that late. maybe Deku’s old OFA cover story was more plausible than I realized

anyway so eventually it occurred to everyone that they should maybe freaking study this shit, idk. and eventually the researchers concluded that the superpowers came from a new gene that apparently isn’t human. and upon hearing that, society apparently lost its freaking mind. which is fascinating to me because it implies that the turning point wasn’t actually the superpowers themselves, but the realization of what it meant

like, so they were apparently fine with it when they thought it was a “mysterious disease”, but somehow it hit different when they learned it wasn’t actually a sickness at all, but instead the Next Step in Evolution. and it became an “us vs them” thing, as opposed to a “we have to cure these poor people” thing. damn

anyway so now Japan is a dystopia and we’re cutting to a big crowd of merc-looking dudes who are getting ready to attack some “meta freaks”, how lovely

but who is this figure in the shadows

I ask politely, as if it wasn’t already beyond obvious that this is AFO about to wreck some people’s shit

ohhhhh my god lmao

hopefully Katsuki and Deku can take the present day AFO out before he winds up looking like this. because this little fella is clearly demonic and idk if anyone can stop him

you all don’t understand. you need to run the fuck away right now

oh shit it’s already too late for them

it’s too late for any of us. it’s over. it’s all fucking over

((((；゜Д゜)))

AFO I am putting the manga down. I am backing away slowly with my hands in the air. I mean you no harm. please for the love of god have mercy

holy

“you see, we told you he wasn’t human” okay Scientific Research Group, you know what?? you win this round I guess

“HE WAS LITERALLY EVIL FROM BIRTH” HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY ARE YOU OKAY??

HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY is literally the most terrifying sentence I have ever read

what the entire fuck

it’s a gorgeous sunny mid-November afternoon outside my window. but no matter how hard it tries, the light cannot reach this place

what kind of moron would throw a can of soda at him. officially the stupidest person we have ever seen in this manga

OH MY GOD OF COURSE IT’S HIM LMAO

(ETA: how come baby Yoichi has clothes that fit him perfectly but baby AFO is just stomping around wearing a tablecloth.)

BABY YOICHI. OH MY GOD. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GROW UP TO BE SANE AND KIND AND GOOD. THAT’S MY QUESTION THAT I NEED ANSWERED RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE LITERALLY A MIRACLE. YOU ARE AN IMPOSSIBILITY, DO YOU KNOW THAT

small and weak, but also so, so cute. all of the cuteness genes went straight to him. no wonder AFO was jealous

(ETA: just want to press pause for a second to speculate about what type of twins AFO and Yoichi are, since it has some relevance to the story, and especially to the OFA/AFO quirk lore. so! at first glance the two of them would appear to be fraternal twins, just based on the fact that they have very different appearances, and also the fact that Yoichi doesn’t have the AFO quirk – no holes in his hands, etc. identical twins are born from the same fertilized egg, so in theory they would both have the same sequence of DNA, which means Yoichi would have had the same quirk as AFO. but that doesn’t appear to be the case. so all of that points to them being fraternal, not identical.

on the other hand, there is one piece of evidence in this chapter that does support them being identical twins, and that’s the fact that per the narration, AFO absorbed most of the nutrients from their mother. a few minutes of google fu informed me that this condition is relatively rare, and only happens in cases where two twins share a placenta, which typically is only the case for identical twins. HOWEVER, for what it’s worth, there have also been rare instances where two fraternal twin placentas fuse together and become a single placenta. AND this apparently also increases the chances of one of the twins gaining more of the nutrients and causing the other twin to have a lower birth weight.

so based on the evidence here, my conclusion is that the two of them are most likely fraternal twins with a case of placental fusion. besides, you can’t tell me that stealing his baby brother’s placenta while the two of them are literally still in the womb doesn’t sound like exactly the type of BS that fetus!AFO would pull, lol.)

HEY!?!

okay?!?!?! well to be fair he did throw that soda at him

oh my god this is so fucked up. in like the best and worst way possible

I genuinely couldn’t ask for a better AFO backstory. it’s so incredibly twisted, and you actually do feel sorry for him. or at least I do. but it’s also beyond clear that this kid was FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL REASON right from the get go. zero goodness in him. literally doesn’t see other people as people. sees them as possessions only. things to rule over. not other thinking, feeling human beings. and that includes his own little brother

but. even if it’s not actually what I would call love, there’s still... attachment, there. it’s the closest he can get to actually caring about someone. guh. just, somehow they have both managed to humanize him, and at the same time made him less human than ever. this manga, man. this fucking manga, though

lmao and here we go. Captain Hero

you know, all those times that I made fun of AFO for not knowing how to read, I never suspected that the twist in his backstory would be that he LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO READ dfksjdlfkjslkdf

but seriously though. because Yoichi appears to be self-taught, and I can’t see AFO having the patience for that, and CLEARLY no one else was around to teach him, sooooo...

oh my goodness it’s actually getting wholesome up in here

what a good fucking boy. poor AFO. fuck me, I can’t help it. it’s not your fault you’re the world’s greatest monster you poor bastard

now we’re cutting to THREE YEARS LATER. okay

is he going to declare war on the glowing baby

typical teenager concerned about nothing but likes and view counts. AFO you would be so much happier if you stopped worrying about all of that and just focused on your own growth

oh, lol. well that was quick

(ETA: r.i.p. Damien.)

“this guy had more instagram followers than me. so I killed him” honey. sweetie pie. you need therapy

omfg

all this time I was wondering who AFO’s middle school lit teacher was who had failed so spectacularly at teaching him reading comprehension. and it was YOICHI ALL ALONG. omg

“and, presumably, that’s how it always was and always will be.” dude. can you imagine listening to AFO’s oral book report on A Tale of Two Cities. “ahem. it was the Best of Times. the end” buddy noooooooo

it was at that moment when Yoichi knew, etc. etc.

oh my GOD I scrolled down to the next panel right after this one and I just IMMEDIATELY DIED LAUGHING

“WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID” ffffffffffffffff I fucking can’t omfg

NOW THIS HUSSY IS STEALING HIS BROTHER AWAY FROM HIM NOOOOOOO

HE’S HIS!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!! THAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!!

oh my god the hands. so wait, is this just the standard symbolic BnHA handholding, or are there More Levels To This. when exactly did Yoichi pass OFA on to Kudou. like is that why the sudden close-up and all that? omg

WHAT!!!!

OH THAT’S THE END, HUH? THAT’S THE END RIGHT THERE, AND THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS. I SEE. OKAY THEN. EXCUSE ME WHILE I PUT MY LAPTOP DOWN AND GO INTO THE NEXT ROOM AND SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

oh my god. and break next week too. this is what you guys have been dealing with this entire time huh. I understand your feelings now. godfuckingdammit lmao

[nardos-primetime]

The 3 genders of Casey Jones Jr in my aus it seems

"I'm just a boy with joy and whimsy!!! I love my family sm!!!!"

"I'm gonna do this. I CAN do this. We WILL do this, and we will WIN!"

"Oh god what the fuck why jesus christ I have to fix this before its too late ohhh ohhhh ohh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh why is my family doomed for chaos i just want one nap OH SUPREME IN THE SKY LET ME TAKE ONE NAP-"

[varicspidey]

saw sum1 who posted sumthing on the melanie sa allegations and oh my god people are DUMB. it was like "yeah believe timothy who talks about it on the internet instead of going to court! 🤡" UDGUYEIFGU OHHHH MY FUCKING GOD. I AM TRYING NOT 2 LOSE IT. due 2 the circumstances that it happened many years ago and they're both women and yk. melanie martinez has more people 2 back her up and the fact that court is expensive THERE REALLY IS NO POINT IN BRINGING IT 2 COURT.

timothy's point isn't 2 get money from melanie martinez, but 2 WARN people that she's a bad person... it's really not always about bringing it 2 court. it still happened. i'd rather believe a possible liar over a possible rapist. also, the fact that people are saying that she's lying makes it worse bcuz you people are exactly the reason why no one wants 2 open up about their abuse or assault or if there's sumthing bad going on. shame on you i hope you people fucking rot in hell.

"d-don't believe everything on the internet!!!" this is a human. another human like us. if she's lying, she's a sicko yeah but i'd feel much more foolish 2 h8 a victim and find out i was supporting a rapist. also melanie martinez basically confirmed it when she said "she never said no" because silence does not mean consent, if sum1 doesn't say anything does not mean go ahead i loooove this! no. always. fucking. ask. for. consent. jesus FUCKING CHRIST THESE PEOPLE MAKE MY BLOOD BOIL.

[her-power]

Last Chance to Dance (Part Four: Rockstar! e.m. x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Last Chance to Dance Part One Part Two Part Three

Summary: Full Summary on Part One

Word Count: 8.1k

I wake up to the smell of French toast coming from the kitchen; I smile, realizing what day it is. I groan, feeling the muscles in my back stretch and my spine pop. I throw on my jeans and exit the room. I find you in the kitchen, you were dancing to Prince on the radio, in an oversized band tee, not noticing me behind you. I realize the shirt you’re wearing is mine, a shirt that I haven’t seen in almost twenty years. 

“Merry Christmas.” I say and you yelp, awkwardly stumbling back into me as the spatula falls out of your hand. I hold your waist and you're laughing loudly. 

“Jesus Christ. You scared me!” You cup my face and kiss my lips softly. “Merry Christmas.” 

I smile against your lips, gripping your waist. “I was wondering what happened to this shirt.” 

You blush, winking at me. “You left it at my house.” 

“I’m sure I did.” I laugh, gently patting her ass as she goes back to cooking breakfast. I peek out the windows, the snow was pretty melted already. It seemed warmer than usual. I feel my phone ringing in my pocket, and I see that it’s Ted, I smile when I answer. 

“Merry Christmas, Teddy.” I say with a grin.

I hear him giggle. “Merry Christmas, dickhead. How you doing?” 

I glance over at you, and you look up, smiling sweetly at me. “Better than I have been.” 

“Oh yeah? Why is that?” 

“Remember the girl?” I whisper. “The one I told you about.” 

“The girl…the girl. Oh!” He laughs loudly. “Wow, man. That’s amazing. Are things…are things well…?”

“Things are incredible.” I grin and I pull my hair up in a half pony. 

“Good. I love to hear it.” He coughs a little. “Happy seven months by the way.” 

I glance at the date on my phone, he was right. I was seven months clean. I’ve never had that much time under my belt. “Wow. I didn’t even realize…thanks, man.” 

“I’m proud of you, kid.” He says, and I hear him let out another hacking cough. “The boys talked about meeting at the studio, Gareth told me you’ve been writing?” 

“Uhhh. Been preoccupied to finish, but yeah.” I smile. “I haven’t sang anything yet, it’s been a while.” 

“You know whatever you do it’s gonna come out amazing.” He’s coughing again, and I can’t help but feel a little worried. 

“You alright, Teddy?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Wrong pipe is all.” He laughs. “Where you at? East coast or cabin?”

“Boston. I have to go back to the cabin in a few days for my next therapy session.” I had almost forgotten until now, I would’ve been fucked if I missed it. 

“Okay, why don’t we plan to meet at the Boston studio after New Years? Bring your girl.” 

My girl. 

“Okay.” I smile. “What are you doing today?”

“Nellie is coming to town with the grandkids, been some time since I’ve seen them.” I can hear a smile in his voice. “Julie is coming too.” His ex-wife. 

“Ohhhh.” I grin goofily at the phone. “Rekindling things hopefully?” 

He laughs. “We’ll see. Enjoy your day, Eddie. Love you.” 

“Thanks, man. Love you too.” 

I hang up, you ask me who was on the phone, and I tell you it was the man who saved my life. 

We had finished breakfast, had light conversation about the plans for the day. Gareth had video chatted me, and when he saw your face on the screen, I thought he was gonna pass out. You had taken the phone from me, laughing and talking about things from the past. Gareth kept saying “oh my god, oh my god” which was weird because, he was the one who gave you my phone number. I had shrugged it off, he was probably excited that it actually happened, that we were in the same room together after so many years. When she had given the phone back to me, Gareth had smiled large. 

“You look good, dude.” He grins, sipping his coffee. “Email me that song you wrote, I want to add the melody notes.” 

“It’s not finished yet.” I sigh. “I don’t even know if I want to record it, it’s different from our regular stuff.” 

“Nothing wrong with being different, didn’t you tell me that?” He smirks at me, and I roll my eyes. 

“It’s…it’s almost like a ballad. I guess, I don’t know. I started it in rehab and then picked away at it when I hid out in my cabin. There are definitely parts that we can add the heavy stuff to, I don’t know.” I laugh awkwardly. 

“Dude, stop being hard on yourself.” He smiles at me. “I’m sure it’s great. Go enjoy your day with her and I’ll see you soon.” 

“Alright, man.” I smile. “Merry Christmas, idiot.”

He gives me the middle finger. “Merry Christmas, bitch.” 

I hang up, putting my phone on silent and look up at you. You were coming towards me with a wrapped present in your hand.

“What?” I laugh. “No, sweetheart. I didn’t get you anything. Why did you get me something?” 

“Relax. I’ve actually had this forever.” You sit down next to me, curling your legs under you. “I got it for you before…well, before everything.” 

You hand it to me, and I can tell you were telling the truth because the corners on the wrapping paper had wear on them. I stare into your eyes, trying to comprehend. “Come on I’ve waited fifteen years to give this to you.” You laugh and I smile at you, tearing the paper. My eyes immediately fill with tears, remembering. 

It was a music transcript notebook that I had my eyes set on at a record shop back then. It was 200 pages of smooth paper, leather bound; I remember this being expensive. 

“This…you got me this?” I look in your eyes and you nod. “How…what? Why?”

You shrug and give me a sad smile. “Because I loved you.” 

I rub my palm over my trembling lips, running my fingers over the pages. It still looked brand new after all these years. I feel my heart shatter in pieces, I feel every regret and mistake swim through my mind. You take my hand in yours, dipping your head to look in my eyes. “Hey, look at me.” 

I clear my throat, looking at you, feeling hot tears on my cheeks. You cup my cheek, wiping my tears away with your finger. 

“This isn’t me giving you this to remind you of what could have been or to have you beg for my forgiveness. Because I’m not gonna do that. I forgave you a long time ago, that’s why I hung on to this. It reminded me every day of the good. Not the bad. Never the bad. Because you were always good, Eddie.” You curl your fingers through my hair, and I shake my head at you. 

“I was only good because of you.” I whisper, wiping the snot from my nose. 

“That’s not true and you know that.” You say, moving your other hand to the other side of my face. “It just took you a bit to catch up, there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“Look where I ended up.” I cry softly. “Look what I did to myself for all those years, how is any of that good?” 

“Look where you are now.” You say to me, opening the binding of the book to a blank page. You point to it. “Blank page. New chapter, better life.” 

I stare at you in awe, wondering if this was a cruel dream and I was actually held up in that hotel room in Manhattan, overdosing, imagining things like this. I take your face in my hands, kissing you sweetly, you curl your hands through my hair, and I press my forehead against yours. You were real. This was real. 

“Thank you.” I whisper to you. “Thank you for everything.” 

“You’re welcome.” You smile against my lips and pull back, gently running your hand over my cheek. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” I whisper to you, pressing my lips to yours again, cupping the back of your head. I pull you by your thighs onto my lap, gripping your ass and your waist. You lean back, pulling my shirt off of your head and press your lips to mine again. I hold onto your back, clawing at your skin, as I continue to massage my tongue with yours. You grind against me, and I groan into your mouth, instantly getting hard. I kiss your neck, lick down to your breast, and take your nipple in my mouth. You let out a sigh, your back arching and I hold you tighter. You hold onto my shoulders, pulling my face to yours, kissing me deeply. I feel your hands unzip me, and I groan against your skin as you take my cock and bury me inside you. I hold your hips as you rock, the beautiful moans that you breathe out send shivers down my spine. I cup your breasts, rubbing your erect nipples as they bounce in my hand. 

“Unghhhh baby, you feel so good.” You moan loudly and my head falls back against the couch, rocking you faster. “Ahhhh, fuck.” 

“Mmmm.” I moan, pushing myself deeper into you, arching my hips. “You like that baby?” 

“Fuck Eddie.” You gasp out a shaky breath and I smile, hearing you say my name like that awakens a wild animal in me, I just want to feel all of you and more. I meet your lips, wrapping both my arms around your waist and turn you onto your back. I hold your leg over my shoulder, slamming into you, feeling every inch of your wet pussy swallowing my dick whole. “Just like that baby, don’t stop, don’t stop…annnnghhhh!” 

You’re getting so loud, and I feel myself shudder, pornographic sounds and grunts escape my mouth and I feel you clench around me. “F-fuck…ohhh…unghhh…”

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come…oh my…oh…unghhhhhhh!” You cry out as your orgasm rocks your entire body, I keep fucking you, and you’re still screaming as your pussy continues to clench my cock. I groan loudly, feeling my eyes roll back and I feel the warmth come out of my cock as I come inside you, I don’t stop thrusting until I’m completely empty. You’re still trembling underneath me, still moaning as the stimulation you feel starts to settle. I swallow a lump in my throat, pressing my lips to yours, thrusting into you once more. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Manhattan. 

The second to last city of the tour. 

I haven’t used heroin in two weeks. Two long, boring, fucked up weeks. 

Everyone keeps saying how proud they are of me and that I’m doing the right thing. But am I? Do they know that behind my stupid smile and my sense of humor is a fucking ticking time bomb ready to go off and take everyone down with them? No? Yeah, probably not. I’m not that easy to read anymore. I’m still a drug addict and I still know how manipulate people into believing my lies. The ache and the urge to use is so hard to resist, I feel like I’m slowly dying. Everything makes me sad, I cry all the time. I feel like a fucking pussy. 

The shows we’ve been putting on have been unreal though. We’ve had to do double shows because the stadiums have been sold out.

I should be grateful; we have great support from our fans. We had a meet and greet and had met a beautiful young woman, who couldn’t have been younger than twenty-one, who was battling terminal cancer, told us that our music keeps her going on the worst days. I hugged her while she cried, held her face and told her that she was strong, that whatever happens she will walk out of here knowing she made a difference in my life. And when she left, I locked myself in the bathroom, weeping because it was too much. It was all too much, feeling her pain, seeing it in her eyes. I made Ted take down her email, her mother’s email. I don’t know why but I needed to know what happened to her. 

We were on stage now, finishing the last song. I wailed on Sweetheart; my hair was sweat soaked and whipping around me as I head banged around the stage while Gareth slammed on the drums. I bring my mouth to the microphone, singing the last verse, and look back at Gareth, he grins, hitting the double bass petal, snare and we fade out. The roar of the crowd vibrates our bodies, thank them for coming to the show. I toss my guitar pick in the audience and blow them air kisses. 

The boys and I went to a local bar to celebrate, naturally, I had gotten extremely drunk. But they didn’t seem to care, I mean, if they did, they didn’t say anything. Being drunk was better than being sober and when I was sober, I kept seeing the girls face with the cancer. I couldn’t even see straight; I was surprised I made it to my hotel room. 

I don’t even think I shut my door, because as soon as I walked in to empty my pockets, I couldn’t believe what I had placed on the table. 

Sitting so perfectly beside my cigarettes, lighter, and loose cash was a little plastic baggy with light brown powder, and two capped needles. I feel a laugh escape my lungs; I don’t believe this is real. When did I buy some? Was it at the bar? Was it outside the bar? I really don’t remember. I held the baggy in my palm, staring at it like it was the missing piece of the puzzle. 

I didn’t even hesitate; it was like riding a bike. I had done the first shot; it had burned like hot embers in my veins. It made me sweat; the summer air didn’t help, but sitting on the floor next to the air conditioner did. The top two buttons of my shirt were undone, I didn’t take the necklace off. Maybe I should’ve. I press the needle into my vein again. Same spot, uh oh. I smile at the burn again; I probably should’ve waited before I did it again. My head feels heavy, but I am so fucking high I don’t even care. 

I look at the syringe, there’s still some in there, I clench my fist, looking for a different vein. It was just enough to…

Suddenly I’m in my back, staring up at the ceiling, everything feels foggy, I can’t move. My heart isn’t beating, or is it? 

“Look at what you’ve become.” I hear your voice and I slowly turn my head; I taste something foul in my mouth, something warm is spilling onto my cheeks. I see your face, kneeling next to me. There is no way you’re real, looking at me this way, your face cold, your eyes blank. “Just a dead man, laying on a cold floor with a needle in your arm.” 

My body reacts, I feel it trembling. I can’t speak, my limbs don’t work. Nothing is working. I feel calm though, isn’t that weird? 

Did the show really go well? Or did I imagine that too? I think I forgot the words to a song…but Gareth had took over. Have I been high this entire time? 

It’s quiet now. The room is still, I think I see Gareth…he’s screaming something at me. But he’s not angry, he looks almost scared, and he’s weeping. I can’t hear him; I can’t hear anything anymore.

“He’s still coding.” 

“Adrenaline.”

“Are you crazy?” 

“Just do it!” 

“Fifth narcan given.” 

“Eddie? Eddie? Can you hear me?” 

“Still no response. Eyes fixed and dilated.” 

“He’s not dying tonight! Do you know who this is?! Do another narcan, I’ll start compressions.”

“Can you step on it, Mike?!” 

“Give me the adrenaline.” 

“You’re crazy if you think it’s gonna work. Fifth narcan given. No response.” 

“Give me the fucking adrenaline!” 

“It’s not gonna work! Doug, don’t!” 

A loud, deep, gasp escapes my lungs, and my vision clears. I’m in the back of an ambulance, my shirt is ripped and there is a needle sticking out of my bare chest. I feel sweaty, I feel clammy, I think I’m still dead. I stare at the wide eyes of the paramedic and try to ignore the vibrations of what I assume is adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream. I pull the needle out of my chest, and I feel immediately trapped. 

“Stop the truck, let me go.” I say, my eyes wide. 

“We’re taking you to the hospital.” The man who I assume is Doug says. “Whatever you took is not fully cleared from your system.” 

“Nope, no hospital, let me the fuck out.” I go to crawl off the gurney and two strong hands push me back on the bed. I start to struggle, and I end up elbowing Doug in the face. He falls back, and the other paramedic tries to restrain me.

“Mike! Stop the truck! Code gray!”  I rip the CB radio off the wall, and I smash it on his head. I was a trapped animal in a cage, and I needed to get out. The ambulance slams to a halt, and I smash my shoulder against the back doors, awkwardly stumbling out and I start running. Well, running as best as I could. We weren’t that far away from the hotel, and I was grateful when the building came into few. It must’ve been late, because when I walk in the lobby the only person there was the receptionist and she looked at me like I was a walking zombie. 

I try to smile and wave to her, and I can only imagine what that looked like to her because she looked even more terrified. I make it back up to my room, everything was thrown everywhere, the bed was a mess, the floor had medical equipment laid out. There was a puddle of whatever liquid had come out of my mouth on the floor by the air conditioner. My phone, Sweetheart, my suitcase and everything else was still where I left it. This was the third time I have ever overdosed in my life, but it was never this bad. I never had to take an ambulance ride. I walk into the bathroom, and I can understand why the receptionist looked terrified. I was very pale, almost ghostly, my eyes had dark circles underneath them. My curly hair was sticking to my skin because of my sweat, there was a black and blue bruise on my chest. I did look like a dead man walking. 

Oh, what do you know, I still have drugs. 

Did I shoot up again after having just overdosed? Yeah. Why? You may wonder. 

Well, it didn’t kill me. 

I’m sitting up on the floor of the hotel room, a stupid smirk on my face because I knew I wasn’t dying again. I know I’m a piece of shit, I know Gareth was the one who found me teetering on life and death. 

I hear three loud rapping knocks on my door. “Fuck off.” I groan out. 

“This is NYPD.” 

“I didn’t die so you can leave now!” I shout at them. 

“Not gonna do that sir. We could do this easy way or hard way, open the door.” 

I feel angry now, I stumble to my feet and whip the door open. 

“Edward Munson?” 

“Depends on who’s asking.” I let out a low chuckle, there was three officers, and they weren’t impressed. 

“Edward Munson, you have a right to remain silent…” one of the officers comes towards me. 

“Fuck right off!” I said, stepping back but he has the upper hand on me. He grabs my forearm and I swing my fist, connecting with the side of his jaw. The two other officers tackle me, and I’m still able to fight them off. I feel a back hand connect with my nose and mouth, tasting blood immediately. I’m finally forced onto my stomach, my hands are behind my back as I’m shouting profanities at them, letting them know my lawyer was one of the best in the country. They pull me to my feet, the officer that I punched looks at me like a disappointed father. 

“It’s a shame. You’re my son’s favorite band.” He wipes the blood from his face. 

“Gonna tell him to stop listening cause you’re dealing with the devil?” I grin at him, knowing very well there is blood staining my teeth. They pull me out of the hotel room, and lead me out to the lobby. There’s already a line of people outside, I see paparazzi. Oh, this is gonna be great. I wonder what the tabloids are gonna say about me now. 

Heavy metal rockstar Eddie Munson arrested in New York City for being on a drug induced psychosis and beating up cops. 

Probably not exactly that, but at least nobody found out I died for five minutes. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

We had driven to the studio in downtown Boston. It didn’t feel like winter, it felt like a cool spring day. I had to go back up to upstate New York for my therapy session, she was impressed with what more I had to say. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to get her to not think I was an asshole. I had mentioned you, and the way she looked at me made me think I was telling her a bedtime story. I had spoken to the paramedics that I had hurt the night of my overdose, apologizing for my behavior even though it probably didn’t mean much because I still hurt them, they never wanted to press charges because they’ve dealt with worse people but since the ambulance company was state run, charges had to be filed, as well as the charges for assaulting three police officers. I had to complete a 90 day program, continue my sobriety with a sponsor and have two years of mandatory therapy. 

You were excited to see the studio when we pulled into the lot. We had stayed at my condo, and I was exhausted. I was up all night doing the finishing touches to the song I was writing. I had sent it to Gareth this morning and all he had written back after I sent it was: “Dude. I’m weeping.” 

I’m not sure if that was a good or bad thing, but as soon as we walked into the studio Gareth had tackled me into a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. You had laughed at our exchanged, and he had done the same thing to you. Ted had arrived soon after with coffee and bagels. He had hugged you like he had known you forever, and when he saw me, I honestly could’ve cried. He had met us when we were a struggling newbie band, we were just kids. Straight out of a small town, no dime to our name. We would sleep in his basement, he’d cook us dinner and his wife would do our laundry. He’s why we’re here today, why we can do this job and I hope he knows just how grateful I am for him. 

This was my favorite place to record. It was mostly an office building, but we had owned the studio. No one bothered us, we didn’t bother them. We purposely remodeled it to make it soundproof, there was an engineering table, with two computers, and a sound mixing station. We had three recording booths, three large couches sat up against the wall. Ted sat on one, patting his forehead with a tissue. He was sweaty, seemed a little pale but he had mentioned earlier he felt like he was coming down with something. 

I sit next to him. “How was seeing your family?” 

He smiles at me. “Oh, it was great. The grandkids are getting so big. Julie wants to go for dinner tomorrow night.” 

I smile, nudging him with my shoulder. “That’s good, right?!”

“Yeah, I think so.” He smiles, looking over at you. Gareth was showing you all the different controls on the engineering board, and how the sound works through the speakers. I follow his eyes, and I smile.

“She’s beautiful.” He says with a grin. “Don’t fuck it up again.”

“I don’t plan on it.” I laugh, running hand through my hair. I was getting nervous about the recording, and he could sense that. Gareth was the only one who read it, and now I was going to be singing it in front of everyone. Even you. I didn’t show you what I had written, it feels like a diary entry almost. Gareth had already told me that he knew what music to put in for it, I had made a note towards the end where the heaviness would come in. 

“You’re gonna do great.” Ted says with a smile. “You always do. Remember, kid. Blank page, clean slate.” He goes to stand up from the couch and I poke his ass with the tip of my shoe.

“Thank you.” I tell him, quietly. “For never giving up on me.” 

He rolls his eyes, and winks, I laugh. “Save the theatrics for later, you got work to do.” He claps me on the shoulder, and I let out a loud sigh. I walk towards the recording booth, the song in my hands. Gareth gently massages my shoulders, following me into the booth.

“You got this, man.” He tells me. “Deep breaths, sing your heart out, block everyone out, and just feel it.” 

I nod at him, shaking the nerves out of my hands as I close the door to the booth. I lay the paper on the stand and place the headphones over my ears. I hear Jeff’s voice over the speakers in my ears. 

“Ready?” 

“No.” I laugh and give him a thumbs up through the window. 

I already had the melody in my head, it was just Gareth’s job to mimic it, and Jeff would add the background after. I glance at the song, meet your eyes, and I smile. 

I begin.

“It’s cold in here, my hands shake, my bones ache. I don’t want to feel anything anymore. All the mistakes, they’re catching up, maybe I should’ve just been left for dead. My mind is broken; the walls I made are crumbling around me. It’s so easy to just be, but the ache is there, it calls to me, I just want it inside of me.  Down the rabbit hole I go, can’t find my way, can’t find my way, can’t find my way back home. It’s so easy just to be, but it calls to me, calls to me. Down the rabbit hole I go, how are they supposed to find me? Will I be bone, will I be ash, will I be lost for good?  I don’t regret it, it’s why I’m here, my heart bleeds in my chest. One last shot, that’s all I want, and then maybe they will heal. It’s all I dream, the clouds around me, smiling as I go. But you came back, screaming my name, and it all fades to black. Down the rabbit hole I go, can’t find my way, can’t find my way, can’t find my way back home. It’s so easy just to be, but it calls to me, calls to me. An angel with wings, that’s what I thought, but it was a devil in disguise. I can’t go back, I have to repent, my sins are killing me. My sins are killing me!” I extend the note at the end, and I hear Gareth on the drums. I keep my eyes closed, nodding my head to his beat. I wait for three beats, one, two three…and I’m yelling out the song, feeling my stomach muscles clench as my voice comes out, sounding broken, and angry.

“Cold floors, cold walls, I can’t feel anything at all, just these thoughts that haunt my mind, driving me fucking insane, one last shot that’s all I want, I don’t want to feel this. But somehow, I’m still alive, and there’s nothing left to see. Down the rabbit hole I go, can’t find my way, can’t find my way, can’t find my way back home. Down the rabbit hole I go, can’t find my way, can’t find my way, can’t find my way back home.”  I add the second to last verse again, followed by the chorus, and I yell, my voice fading, and I glance over at my bandmates. In the speakers of my ears, I hear Jeff, “Fuck YEAH, man!” 

I laugh, taking the headphones off my ears. You had tears in your eyes as you’re clapping, and I come out of the booth. Gareth is already whooping as he comes out of the booth, his drumsticks in his hand. 

“Play it back.” I tell them. I look over at Ted, who’s smiling with tears in his eyes. I squeeze his shoulder and he places his hand over mine. We listen to it back, and I’m amazed at how it sounds. We begin to brainstorm on what melody should go where, where to add the guitar. How heavy it should sound at the end. We spent about three hours in the studio, recording the music, adding more riffs, adding piano to it. Once it was completed to our liking, we listened. We haven’t had a melodic song like this since our first album, and I couldn’t believe that was my voice. 

“I say we go celebrate by getting some Italian.” Ted says with a grin.  

“You buying?” I grin, pulling you towards me by your waist. 

“Ha, you’re funny. Let me piss first.” He goes into the bathroom, and I lean my head against your shoulder. 

“That song was amazing.” You tell me, gently rubbing my chin. “I forgot you could sing like that.” 

“Wasn’t that great.” I say, giving you a goofy smile and you nudge me with your shoulder. 

“It was perfect.” You kiss my lips gently and I grin. 

“Ugh, don’t miss that.” Gareth laughs and pokes my stomach. “I’m starving, where’s Teddy?” 

“Bathroom.” 

I watch as Gareth walk into the bathroom and the door closes behind him. “Teddy! Are you taking a shit? Did you fall in?” 

We both giggle. I turn to you, but your eyes are somewhere else. Gareth has come out of the bathroom, his face ashen, his body trembling. “Call 911.” He says loudly. Jeff whips up his head, and the engineer is immediately on the phone. 

“What?” My heart is in my throat. 

I watch as you run into the bathroom, I go to follow you, but Gareth stops me, his hand on my chest, tears are streaming down his face. “Don’t go in there, Eddie.” 

I push his hand off me, ignoring his words and I jog to the bathroom. “Eddie! Eddie!” 

I skid to a halt, watching as you’re giving chest compressions to Ted. Gareth slams his chest into me but has remained frozen as he stares at what you’re doing.  

He’s not moving, his eyes are partially closed, and I see a little blood in the corner of his mouth. “Ted?” I almost yell. 

You look up at me, your expression in full nurse mode as you continue your compressions, feeling his pulse. “Eddie, stay outside, please.” 

I don’t hear you; I slide to the floor and move next to Ted. Trying to see, trying to understand. “Wake up, man.” I say, my heart beating fast. I hear blood rushing in my ears. I couldn’t see his chest rise and fall; just the force of your compressions trying to pump air in his lungs. 

“Eddie, come on.” Gareth sputters out, his hand on my shoulder. I slap him away, there was a cold chill going down my spine. 

“Teddy, wake up.” I’m getting angry now, I feel my throat lock up, and tears sting behind my eyes. He was fucking with us, he had to be. I place my hand on his, he was still warm, but I got no reaction. “Wake the fuck up, man!” 

I watch as you sit back on your heels, your eyes meet Gareth’s and I see you shake your head, you look at me now. “Eddie…”

“No.” I say through my teeth, I hold his face in my hands. “Teddy. Teddy. Wake up. Stop fucking with us man, stop this.” He’s not even looking at me, his chest isn’t moving. I feel myself trembling. I shake his head. “Teddy, wake up!” I feel your hand on my forearm, Gareth’s hand fisting my shirt from behind. I can hear the sound of a two-way radio outside the door. An angry, loud, groan escapes me and I’m sobbing. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t fucking do this to me, man. Please wake up. You’re supposed to go to dinner with Julie tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, I’m better now. I promise, just wake up. Please Teddy. Please.” 

The paramedics are in the bathroom now, and I can feel Gareth pulling me back. A loud, guttural, groan escapes my lungs as Gareth has to practically drag me from the bathroom. “Teddy!” I scream, thrashing against Gareth’s grasp. The struggle causes both of us to fall on our asses to the floor, and he’s almost restraining me. You’re in front of me now, holding my face in your hands as angry sobs and groans scream out of me. 

“I need you to breathe for me.” You say calmly. “You’re gonna hyperventilate, Eddie. Breathe.” 

“I don’t care!” I moan out, my teeth grinding. My ears still ringing, this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening. He was the closest thing I’ve had to a father and there was no way he was gone. 

“Eddie, baby, please…”

I struggle in Gareth’s grasp, my body still shaking with sobs as I see them wheel Ted out from the bathroom. A mask over his face, the paramedic on top of him doing compressions. They disappear, telling us what hospital and nothing is making sense. Nothing. None of it. 

I felt like I was in a fever dream as I pace in the hospital waiting room. I was talking to myself, reassuring myself that he was okay, that he was alive and would be cracking jokes in his hospital bed. I wouldn’t talk to anyone, even you. I had tried calling Julie, but her phone had immediately gone to voice mail. Gareth was still pale, sipping out of the same coffee cup he has been for the last half hour. 

The doctor had come, and before he could even say the words, I’m walking away from him. I’m holding my stomach; afraid my insides are gonna fall out and a jagged breath escapes me. A sound I never knew I could make before comes rattling out of me, it hurt so much. A massive heart attack killed him. 

“We did everything we could. I’m so sorry. If it gives you any sort of comfort, he didn’t feel much. If anything it just felt like a tickle.” I whip my head around to look at him, I know my eyes are wide and look feral. 

“Do you actually know that though? You don’t know what or how he felt, so don’t even fucking claim that you do.” My voice is breaking, and you pull me away from the doctor, leading me to sit. “I don’t want to sit!” I shout, but your palm is on my chest, gently pushing me down. I hear Gareth say a few more words to the doctor and he walks away. He is handing me a plastic bag, it had Ted’s key, his wallet, his phone, his fucking wedding ring. 

“They need Julie to release his body to the funeral home, have you gotten ahold of her?” His voice sounds far away, he’s still crying, and I can’t look at him, I just shake my head. My hands are trembling as I’m gazing at the plastic bag, I shake my head, rubbing the snot from my nose. Ted’s phone vibrates in the bag, and I see Julie’s name light up. I stare at her name, and I pull the phone out. I stand up from the seat, clearing my throat as I slide to answer. 

“Julie?” I hold my stomach, a small sob escaping me. 

"Hello? Eddie?” She already sounds panicked. “I have no reception where I am, what are you doing answering Teddy’s phone?”

“Um.” I let out a small groan. “We’re in Boston, at a hospital. Ted, he…he uh…” I can’t say it, I can’t fucking say it.

“Eddie…what is going on?” I hear her voice shake.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my wrist falling away with the phone before I put it to my ear again. “Ted’s gone…he…he died.” 

“No, he didn’t.” She inhales a gasp. “Eddie, don’t lie to me, no he didn’t!”

I’m weeping. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” 

“No Eddie!” She’s screaming, a loud, heartbreaking scream. “I talked to him earlier, he was fine! He was fine! Oh jesus…”

“I know, I know. We were at the studio…and…and then he was in the bathroom. He didn’t hear me; I was trying to wake him up. Julie, I tried, I tried to wake him up, I’m so sorry.” My knees are buckling as I’m sliding to the floor, my body aching, my throat feeling like it was closing up. 

“Eddie, Eddie, you listen to me right now. Don’t fall back on what you’ve come so far to accomplish. He was proud of you. Despite everything, he loved you, Eddie. You were like a son to him, don’t fall apart now. You hear me?” I nod into the phone; I can’t see straight. I don’t even remember her asking me what hospital, or when she said she would be there. I was still crumpled on the floor, you were at my side, rubbing my head, and I was scrolling through the photos on his phone. There was so many of his grandkids, his kids. There was a bunch of us performing, a bunch of random selfies because I’m sure he forgot how to flip the camera. I scroll through his contacts, trying to remember if there was anyone else, I needed to call. I stop when I see your name.

What?

You’re not looking at me, you’re talking to Gareth about something I’m not bothering to listen to. I click your contact name and see a thread of text messages between you and Ted. It goes back seven months ago. 

What the fuck?

Before I could even make a comment on what I have seen, the doctor comes back, asking if we’d like to see him. I place the phone in my pocket, I would deal with this later. I didn’t even know how to react towards you, why were you talking to him seven months ago if you just met him today? I get up from the floor, and I realize I’m ignoring you. I turn to kiss your lips quickly, Gareth, Jeff and I follow the doctor to a hospital room. I watch as you sit down, waving at me defeatedly, looking tired, sad. I could feel my heart breaking and I didn’t even know why.

They tell us as soon as we’re outside the room that we would have to go in one at a time. Jeff goes in first; I’ve never seen him cry before, and when he came out, he looked like he was about to pass out. I fist his shirt to get him to stand upright, and I hug him to me. Gareth goes in next, he’s in there for a few minutes until he comes out, wiping his eyes, looking at me like I could shatter at any moment. 

I pat his back, reassuring him that I was okay. But I’m not sure if I was.  I step into the room; the lights were bright. Ted was laying on his back, a white sheet was up to his chest. My stomach clenches again and I have to support myself on the bed rail before I sit down. 

I take his hand; it was so cold. I had to warm him up. He shouldn’t be cold. Tears fall down my cheeks as I stare at his face. I’m not sure if he looked peaceful, or if he looked dead. 

“I still think you’re fucking with me.” I tell him quietly. “After all those times you brought me back, I would think this was some sort of punishment.” My lips tremble and I feel hot tears pool down my cheeks. “Fuck you, man. Why’d you have to go and die on me? After everything – after so many years of you practically raising us to be better men, better friends, a better brotherhood. What are we supposed to do now? What are we supposed to do without you?” 

A sob escapes me, a small whimper, my head falls to his bed and I’m laying my forehead against his hand, holding it tight, my chest hurting, my stomach in knots. I feel strong arms on my shoulders, pulling me up. 

“Come on, dude.” It’s Gareth, my head falls to his chest, I felt weak, he helps me out of the chair. I feel like I’m being weighed down by cement as I stare at his body. 

“No…” I groan out loud, I sound like a kid. A kid who just said goodbye to the only person he’d ever known as a father. “I can’t leave him.” 

“It’s okay, dude. I’m here.” Gareth continued to lead me away, my head falls in my hands and I’m groaning again. It hurts, it all hurts too fucking much. 

We waited until Julie got to the hospital a few hours later, I could barely stand up when I saw her. She was cradling me like a small child, rubbing my head, telling me everything was gonna be okay. I didn’t want her to comfort me, I told her. After everything I put him through, she should hate me. She told me that she could never hate me, that I meant so much to her and Ted, that we all did. That she prayed everyday my heart still beat, and that I’d fight the addiction I so desperately craved right now. 

Once Ted was set to go to the funeral home in his hometown in Vermont, you had driven my car back to my condo. You were leaving tomorrow, going back to Maine, to go back to work. We don’t speak when we take the elevator up to my place. I’m on my phone looking at news articles, there was no way the media didn’t get wind of this. 

And I was right, the first article on Google says: Longtime friend and manager of Corroded Coffin, Theodore “Teddy” Callahan has died of a heart attack, at 58. I toss my phone roughly on the couch, you jump a little and I mutter that I was sorry. You sit next to me, wrapping your arms around my shoulders, you lay your cheek on my arm. 

“What can I do?” You ask me sweetly. 

I don’t answer you; I’m staring off, I can’t see straight. Tears still continue to pour down my cheeks. My entire body feels stiff. I had to know, I had to know why she was in Ted’s phone. Why it seems they have been talking longer than they let on. 

“How long have you been talking to Ted?” I feel you freeze next to me. 

“What? I just met him today.” 

I meet your eyes, I’m not in the mood for games. “You may have met him today, but you’ve been talking to him for seven fuckingmonths.” 

You pull away from me, rubbing your eyes. “Eddie, I can explain that.” 

“So, explain.” I feel my chest heaving. There are so many emotions: grief, anger, sadness, the urge to stick a needle in my veins. 

You just stare at me; I can tell you’re trying to figure out what to say. Realization settles in my gut and I stand up from the couch. “That letter was a crock of shit, wasn’t it?” 

“No, no Eddie! I meant every word.” Your eyes are filling with tears. 

“You LIED to me!” I yell at you. “You said Gareth gave you my number. Gareth didn’t even fuck know you were around until the other day! When did Ted reach out to you? Because I know you didn’t.” 

“After your overdose, after everything with the courts.” You sigh, standing and walking toin were me, I step back from you. “Eddie, I wasn’t gonna send you a letter at first. I couldn’t do it. It was like someone brought you back from the dead even though you were alive.” 

“So, you knew everything about me, about my struggles, about ALL of it and just pretended to care? Pretended this whole time?” I’m staring at you with wide eyes. 

“I’m not pretending Eddie! He reached out to me because he was scared, he didn’t know what else to do. He said you kept talking about me, how sad you seemed and he thought maybe, maybe I’d be able to help. I was fully ready to just see you, rekindle our friendship but I never thought we’d end up here. When I saw you, it all came rushing back and I couldn’t control it. I love you, I have always loved you.” 

“That don’t mean shit if you came to see me out of pity.” I feel tears sting my eyes again; I just want to rip my fucking eyeballs out. 

“I didn’t! I came here because I was worried.” 

“Your aunt just happened to be away that entire week?” 

You stare at me. 

“Answer me!” I yell, my voice breaking. 

“My aunt has been dead for five years. When I travel I use her place because she left it to me.” You sound so small and I just laugh at you. 

“That’s fucked up. Even for you.” I clench my fists, pressing them to my eyes and you let out a sob. “These last three weeks, you’ve been making love to me, cooking for me, bringing me gifts from the past, telling me that you love me, when this entire time you had no intention in ever speaking to me again if it wasn’t for Ted?” 

“Eddie, I thought about you every day!” 

“Stop the bull shit! Stop it!” I clench my stomach, the same familiar ache forming. “I don’t believe you. Every time you speak, I hear a lie, even if you are telling me the truth. Is this punishment? For breaking your heart? Well, you win, sweetheart! Cause mine is a pile of fucking dust!” 

“Eddie, please.” You’re sputtering. “Let’s talk about this.” 

“No.” I shake my head at you, tears falling. “I don’t want to talk anymore. I want you to get out.” 

“What?” 

“Get the fuck out of my house.” 

You stare at me with wide eyes, pure heartbreak and disappointment on your face. I have to look away from you, I can’t look at you. Because if I look at you this way, I’ll want to take you in my arms, kiss your tears away and pretended like this never happened, but I can’t do it. I can’t. You don’t say anything to me as you take your purse off the couch, you look back at me once and I meet your eyes. I watch as you walk away from me, down the hall until you get to the elevators. A shaky sob escapes me, and I sit on my floor, I hold my head in my hands. Before, I was the one who walked away from you, because I couldn’t handle how to be loved by you. Now, I’m sending you away, because I can’t stomach the thought of you actually still loving me, after everything, after all the pain, the things I’ve done. Maybe you really don’t, and this whole thing was just a game. 

How could you love someone like me? I’m broken, I’m damaged. 

I’m still a fucking monster. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A/N: Thank you guys! Don't worry, it's not over! Taglist: @kellsck @bellalillyrose @iggyizalien @trixyvixx @originalstar1 @themorticians-world

[onesidedradiostatic]

helluva boss s1e7&8 reaction

season 1 finale let's gooo (REALLY GOOD STUFF???)

episode 7

OZZIE yes one of the characters I've been looking forward to seeing

"YOUR BORING AS FUCK MONOGAMY" HELP HE WANTS TO THREESOME WITH THEM SO BADLY

I love seeing some of these tiny hazbin details in the background

kinda funny how some hellborns are just chilling as the exterminations happen

they're so fucking toxic

wait at first I was like ANOTHER ROBO FIZZ but OH MY GOD is that ACTUALLY HIM????

oh yeah it's not asmodeus that blitzo doesn't wanna see huh

oh my god

ohhhh my god

oh my god

HEEEELP WHAT IS THIS

btw one of the things I already know is that fizzarolli and asmodeus are in a (secret?) relationship so I wanna be transparent about knowing that but of course don't know all the details

oh my god x5

oh my god (I'm not offering any insightful commentary I just have to screenshot all this ohm y god)

oh my god

okay yeah that was really good holy shit

OH MY GOD HIS FACE ALSDGMLSMGSHML

awww

honestly good on moxxie and millie for continuing their sappy love song even when fizzarolli and ozzie were screaming about lust LMAOSDIOHKOHSF

HELP LMAOOOOO

oh my god???

oh my god it's this picture

OH MY GOD?????

okay that. that was really good. best episode so far imo jesus christ. well another thing I know about is that blitzo and fizzarolli eventually do patch things up? so really looking forward to that, this is so good

episode 8

heard about this one getting delayed to hell cause of kesha LMAO

I love how awkward loona is here

I don't have much to say about this part, think I've seen some of the visuals cause of twitter back when it first released (so I don't really have any comments on beelzebub)

"she's hot" LMAO??????

NO

NO

NO

NO

NO

NO

"CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW?"

awwww man

they are both NOT in good places right now LMAO

this is sweet

AND that's it for season 1, yeah things really started to pick up at the end here, that was really good, definitely definitely need to see more about stuff between fizz and blitzo, and the drama between blitzo and stolas is definitely getting interesting, and glad to see loona got some time to shine in this episode too

but yes, will start season 2 soon (not immediately probably idk), stay tuned 🫡🫡

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

okay you horny people, I wrote a quick follow up to that Sihtric library fic I posted earlier.

warnings: 18+! smut!!!

Part 2. (here is part 1)

'You wish to be railed in the backroom, lady?' Sihtric grinned

Oh, sweet Jesus, it's like he can read my thoughts, yes, please…

Your hands were trembling as you tried to unlock the library door, and you heard Sihtric chuckle in your ear while his hands trailed all over you, pressing his body against yours from behind.

Oh shit, he's so fucking hard, you sighed loudly. Wait, focus… focus, unlock this goddamn door first. The lock clicked open. Finally!

You turned around and before you could even blink, you already felt Sihtric's lips back on yours.

Jesus, Mary and Christ, this man is eager. Oh…o-okay, oh, you felt his tongue in your mouth while he cupped your breasts, is he trying to kill me because-

Sihtric broke the kiss and let out a mischievous laugh, pushing you inside the library and locking the door behind him. You took his hand and pulled him with you, towards that backroom you had been thinking of earlier. You bit down on your lip with a grin as you turned around to face him while leading him with you.

Surely, I have to thank this fine man for saving me from "the creep"…

Sihtric smirked and licked his lips while looking you up and down. He wanted to be thanked by you, in every possible way.

'So you do this often then?' he asked.

'What? No!' you smiled, pulling him into the dim lit backroom, which was where the damaged books were kept. 

I'm not some kind of slut… you looked at him as he stepped closer.

You know what, I lied. I AM a slut right now... I'll gladly be a slut for you, sir.

'How do you wish to be treated?' Sihtric asked, pushing you against a half filled book cabinet.

Like a whore, please...

'Nicely,' you smiled, innocently batting your eyelashes.

'Nicely?' Sihtric asked, moving his hand up in your hair and giving a tug.

Oh my fucking GOD. Take me. Take me now. Fill me with that hard cock…

Sihtric smiled and hummed, 'hm, nicely?' he asked again, moving his other hand to push up your skirt, 'now be honest, miss. How do you wish to be treated? Nicely?' he trailed his hand up your thigh, 'or do you wish to be treated like a little slut?' he smirked.

I'm going to pass the fuck out... 

You clumsily grabbed onto the book shelf behind you as you looked at the wildly arousing man in front of you, whose fingers already had a grip on your see through tights. You were both breathing hard.

'I want to be your slut, please,' you whined, to which Sihtric's eyes darkened. 

Use me. Every part of me, please. Please, I fucking beg you, kind stranger...

Your heart was beating out of your chest when Sihtric suddenly pulled at your tights. You heard the fabric rip as he tore it to pieces, so you didn't even have to bother pulling them down for him.

Oh my god... 

'Oh my god!' you breathed, holding onto that shelf for dear life as your knees were trembling underneath you.

Ravage me…

'Don't worry, baby,' Sihtric cooed with a raspy voice, leaning his forehead against yours, 'I will fucking ravage you.'

How the fuck did he know I-

Sihtric pulled down your panties with one swift move, then turned you around, bending you over as he pushed your skirt up further and slapped your ass cheek hard, all within a split second.

'Oh, fuck!' you screamed, grabbing onto the bookshelf again, which you were now facing, trying to grasp what was happening.

Oh, god, he's rough. FUCK, he's so hot…

you breathed hard when you heard Sihtric unbuckle his belt behind you, and the sound of his jeans falling down made you moan.

I wonder how big his-

'Oh, fuck! Oh my god! Oh! Ohhhh, god!' you cried out, your fingers desperately scratching to keep a grip onto the cabinet, as the kind, new guy in town pushed his entire length inside your dripping wet folds.

Oh, jesus, he's really fuck big…

You moaned as you adjusted to him.

'Too big for my slut?' Sihtric grinned as he leaned back, massaging your recently slapped ass cheek while he checked you out from behind, enjoying the sight of his member all shoved inside your tightness.

'No,' you exhaled sharply as you felt him slowly slide out, 'just how I like it.' 

He's going to kill me with his cock… 

'Yeah? Just how you like it?' Sihtric chuckled and grabbed your hips, slamming hard into, just once, with a loud groan.

'Oh, fuck!' you cried, one hand slipping from the bookshelf above you, landing onto a lower shelf where you kept your hand to keep yourself up.

Just give it to me already… just fucking give it!

Sihtric exhaled sharply at your thought. He was going to give it to you, no doubt in his mind.

'Are you going to be a good little slut?' he asked, pulling your hips hard against his, leaving no space, filling you up so well.

'Mhm,' you hummed, you couldn't even think anymore.

'I asked,' Sihtric slapped your ass again, 'are you going to be a good little slut for me?'

'Yes! God! Yes! I will be a good little slut for you,' you moaned, feeling him pull out again, 'I want you to fuck me real good, baby boy.'

'I'm not your baby boy,' Sihtric hissed, slamming back into you again, making the entire cabinet of books shake as he did.

'Oh, fuck!' you desperately held onto the shelf above you, Sihtric saw your fingertips turn white. 'F-fuck me, d-daddy,' you laughed with ragged breath.

Sihtric hummed, pulling out slowly again, and he leaned in, placing his hand on yours on the shelf above you, as he held your hip firmly with his other hand, locking you in.

Fuck, fuck… you breathed hard as you felt his lips brushing lightly against your ear, he's going to fucking ravage me, oh fuck…

'I am not your daddy,' he whispered and chuckled, before he inhaled sharply and said, 'you will address me with 'Lord'.'

OH MY GO-

'Oh, LORD!' you screamed out as Sihtric started slamming into you with a violent, ravaging pace. 

Your legs were shaking, the cabinet with books rattled in sync with each thrust and the sound his hips snapping into you, accompanied by his heavy grunts each time he filled you up, had to be the most delicious sound you ever heard. You moaned hard, loud, and fast and tears filled your eyes at Sihtric's insanely hard and heavy pace.

Fuck, he feels so good, oh fuck… I will be his slut every day… any time oh…

'You feel so good,' you murmured, cock drunk and almost unable to speak, 'am I… a-a good… little slut, my Lord?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric laughed wickedly as he continued his pace, 'you're such a pretty,' he grunted, 'tight, little slut for me.' 

He slammed hard and deep into you, with such force, it caused books to fall off the shelves on the other side of the cabinet.

'Oh, no… t-the… books,' you moaned. Oh whatever… oh, god, he feels so good…

You closed your eyes and smiled, biting down on your lip with tears rolling down your face as the man you met only a few hours ago was railing you good in that backroom.

'You like that?' Sihtric asked with heavy breaths.

'Y-yes, Lord,' you sighed. I don't know how much more I can take… fuck, he needs to fill me up with his cum. Oh, god, I want it everywhere. In my pussy, in my mouth, on my ass…

'Ah, fuck!' Sihtric grunted, his pace becoming a little sloppy as your thoughts made him go wild, 'I'll fill you up good,' he said as he tried to compose himself, and he suddenly pulled out.

'No!' you cried.

What the fuck!

'Get on your knees,' Sihtric ordered.

'Yes, Lord,' you said and obeyed, with your cheeks flushed, hair messy, teary eyes and a sore pussy. Anything for you, lord.

Sihtric hummed with a smile, he thought you looked absolutely stunning right now, on your knees in front of him, after he had fucked your pussy all sore and red.

'Open up,' he smiled and grabbed your chin with one hand.

'Yes, Lord,' you smiled and opened your mouth wide.

Fuck my mouth… you looked up at him, choke me with your cock…

Sihtric shook his head lightly and chuckled as he looked down at you. A pretty lady he only met a few hours ago, who seemed so innocent at first glance, and here you were; begging to have your pretty little mouth fucked.

'Be a good little cum slut now, and thank me for my help,' he husked and smiled slyly with half open eyes.

'Yes, Lord,' you sighed, bringing both hands to his big, hard cock, working his length as you teased his tip with your tongue, and you looked up at him, locking eyes. 

He's so fucking big… and so hot

And then you took him in your mouth, feeling him twitch on your tongue as Sihtric let out a deep growl, grabbing the back of your head with both hands, and he started fucking your mouth almost as fast as he had fucked your pussy.

Oh fuckkkk, you looked up at him, tears rolling down your face again, I can barely fucking breathe, you moaned, but if I suffocate…. What a way to go…

Sihtric chuckled and gave you some air. A mixture of your saliva and his precum dripped down your chin and onto your blouse as he pulled out, and you wiped your mouth with a grin while you caught your breath.

'Already done, Lord?' you taunted, using your hands on him again.

Hmm, I'm going to suck you dry, my lord, you smiled and licked your lips as you looked up at him.

'Suck me,' was all Sihtric said, and he thrusted into your mouth as soon as you took him in again.

You felt yourself gag and breathing hard, and you moved one hand down to your core, fucking yourself with your fingers as Sihtric fucked your mouth.

Jesus fucking christ, this all feels so fucking good…

You moaned with your mouth full, feeling yourself tense up as it barely took anything to push you over your edge. Your body jerked as you fucked yourself through your own high, just when Sihtric pulled out and told you to open up again.

Please, please cum on my tongue... You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue as you looked up at Sihtric. He kept a firm grip on your chin and brought his twitching cock to your mouth, teasing you by slapping it against your tongue before he came with an animalistic growl.

Yes, yes! Oh god, yes…

You felt his warm cum drip down your tongue and you swallowed whatever you could. And you literally had no thoughts anymore as you just sat there, in the library backroom. On your knees, on the floor, with swollen lips, red cheeks glistening from your tears, messy hair, leftover cum running down your chin while your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties pulled down to your ankles and your tights shredded to pieces. And you watched Sihtric nonchalantly pull up his jeans and buckle up his belt.

He crouched down in front of you and smiled.

'Is this a special benefit of having a library card?'

You chuckled as Sihtric tried to clean your face up with some tissues he had grabbed from his backpack.

'Yeah,' you smiled, 'special benefit, but only for you,' you said as you looked at him.

God, you're so gorgeous… and sweet even… trying to clean up the mess you made. Fuck, I wish I could take you home, make you dinner, do your laundry… oh for fuck sakes. God, I'm pathetic… I don't even know him and I already want to be his wife…

'How about I give you my number?' Sihtric smiled, 'and we'll pick a day to meet up soon again.'

You looked at him with big eyes.

What??? Wasn't this just a one time hookup? what the fu-

'And we'll have a date,' Sihtric chuckled lightly, 'a real date. I'll cook you dinner.'

'Oh… I– I,' you were speechless, out loud and in your mind.

'Actually,' Sihtric pecked your lips, 'I insist. To thank you for your fantastic customer service, and to get to know you better.'

******************

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[security-unit]

literally the worst casting ever. I am so scared for what this is going to do to the fandom landscape

I want all of my friends to get into murderbot and when someone gets into murderbot I rejoice but this? jesus fucking CHRIST they are gonna draw murderbot like some white dude

we need to be kind to the new fans this is gonna bring on but also can we like. please please PLEASE not lose what makes this fandom so special to me. we need to hold on with an iron grip my friends

forever mourning what we could have had (vico ortiz)

oh god what voice are they going to do for ART.... OHHHH godddd

I am not excited for this I am ONLY terrified

[dearsnow]

SALT FARE, NORTH SEA

- when a dragon falls from the sky, decimating your ship and bringing a strange boy along for the ride, you begin to question if the some of the targaryens are really as bad as they seem. (aged up!lucerys velaryon x fem!reader, angst to fluff, ur burning hatred is quenched by time spent on the sea 🤞) MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HOUSE OF THE DRAGON! au where vhagar doesn’t kill luke, arrax just gets absolutely mauled and falls out of the sky. aged up luke because I didn’t realize he was that young when i started writing 💀. ⚠️ TW for death, suicidal thoughts, and trauma.

word count: 4,213 (jesus christ)

a/n - ohhhh my god guys i’m back!!!! this was certainly a labor of love. i don’t know if I’ll start writing consistently again, but i really hope i do. i love you guys so much and thank you for the continued support even when i’m on hiatus! also i’m sorry if luke is ooc because i choose to believe he’s quietly funny and a little bit of a menace 😭

As the waves batter the sides of your ship, you don’t feel seasick. You feel the spray, see the occasional silvery fish zip by under the water. The sun beats down on your exposed neck and the motion swirls your mind, but you are sick for an entirely different reason.

Betrothal. God, you hate how that word sits on your tongue like a hot piece of meat. You are to be sent off to the their of family, married into their lineage and forced to bear their children until your womb shrivels like a sun-dried date. Of  all of your options, the Targaryens are certainly the worst. 

Aemond, in particular. You’ve heard stories of his cold demeanor, how he could kill you with a look. With his hands, too. He is quite the skilled swordsman, not that you would ever wish to witness it. He is the one you are set to marry.

Oh, the misery. The horror. You can feel bile rising in your throat whenever someone mentions him or his mother, great Queen Alicent.

You figure, though, at least it isn’t his brother.

You come from a noble family. It was bound to happen anyways. Trade your Martell name for some haughty lord’s and become his sow for the rest of your life. Your short, miserable life. In some ways, you are a bit grateful. You will never want for food and you know you’ll bring great honor to your family by marrying into the Targaryens. 

You just wish you could marry for another reason, not just forging alliances and heating up old, cold ones. You could have a happy life with the person of your choosing. You could sell fish on the shores of the sea and pick flowers in a field.

You play with this notion in your head before you hear a mighty crash and the sound of splintering wood.

The screams come mere seconds later. They pierce the air as snapping bones and rending flesh ring out. You stumble back, nearly falling off the edge of the ship. Large chunks of meat have started raining from the sky, crushing everything in their path.

You feel your heart beat so fast it nearly leaps out of your chest as you scramble for friction. Fuck, what the hell?

With the meat there comes blood, great amounts of it. It trips the sailors up, sending them careening over the wooden edges and into the sea. 

You narrowly miss the giant dragon wing that splits the boat in two. The entire thing has started sinking, and your blood runs cold. 

The ship is tilted from the massive gash in the center. Water is mixing with blood, and your dress is soaked to the bone. You can’t help but think that the finest silks Dorne can offer will drag you to the bottom of the depths.

As you clamber to the top of the ship’s bow as another fast-moving figure falls into the water. You don’t notice it in the moment. 

A shove comes from behind, pushing you to the side. Your back aches where you were struck.

“M’lady, m'lady! The lifeboat, you must take the boat. Go, go! Right now, m'lady.”

It’s Finhard, the deck swabber. He has two missing fingers, a lame knee, and a million stories. He swabbed the deck of The Sandstorm from port to port, collecting any and all information he could along the way. You loved talking to him so much it made the trip almost worth it. He always helped you sneak food to the cat stowing away on board. The cat you’re sure is now dead.

“What about you?” You question, voice loud but shaky. You can’t just leave him here.

“I’m a dead man, m’lady. I don’t matter.”

“But you do!” You insist, tugging on his arm. The screams are still ringing like alarms, and your limbs feel locked and like jelly at the same time.

“No, no. I might sink it. Girl’s damaged already. Please go, girlie. Jus’ remember me when you eat your next fish, alright?”

A pit pools in your stomach as you whip around to look at the small lifeboat. He’s right. The boat wouldn’t be able to hold you and a grown man, at least not one of Finhard’s size.

“Get on. I’ll push ya off, and you better have a damn good time with that prince of yours.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you watch your trusted confidant steel his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Finhard. I’m so so sorry,” You sob, clutching his rough palms. “I promise I’ll think of you always.”

“Thas’ all I ask for.” His voice is rough and uncut, hardened yet soft, like a feather made of chainmail. He picks you up like a sack of potatoes and places you in the rickety boat with the gentleness of a father setting down his newborn. He gives you one final kiss on the forehead before untying the boat and shoving it into the roiling water. 

Small hairs cling to your forehead as the ship lights up in a blaze sure to be seen from the shore. Your face is so wet with tears you feel as though the ocean is the product of them.

You sob into your hands as the people who took care of you on your journey sink, their bawls leaving a scar in your memory.

It’s not even ten minutes after the foremast begins to sink that you see a dark shape bobbing along in the water next to you. You stifle a gasp, thinking it must surely be a shark or a dead man. The water around it was red and heavy. 

When it floats closer to you, you see for the first time that it’s a boy. A boy who must be around your age, maybe sixteen or seventeen. His wrist gives a little twitch, and you resolve that you must rescue him. 

He wasn’t on your ship unless he was stowing away in the barrels, as teenagers often do. No matter his situation, you grab his soaked shirt and give a hard tug. 

The effort almost tips your boat, nearly sending you spiraling into the water. You give a little huff. The waterlogged boy is definitely heavier than you expected.

You try again, managing to get his arm hooked around the side of the boat. From there, it’s just a game of strength- you pull him up, using his clothing as a sort of lever to shimmy him out of the water. You roll him over, the water streaming off of him re-splattering your already wet clothes with water and fresh blood. The boat dips a little with his weight, but it does not sink. You praise the Seven under your breath. He has a cut on the side of his head, one that requires medical care far past the simple fixes you’ve learned.

You try to dress it anyways. Ripping a long strip of cloth from the bottom of your underskirt, you wrap it up and pray he doesn’t lose much more blood. 

You can still hear the creaking of The Sandstorm, though any humans were sucked under long ago. It makes a melancholy sound, blending with the waves and the seabirds and the rain that has started pattering down. A lump forms in your throat as you gaze at the wreckage. Hot water slides down your face as you sit in your little lifeboat, waiting for death that will most certainly come for your throat. 

It’s about two hours of lonely drifting before the boy wakes up. He opens his eyes slowly, then they widen as he gives a gurgling shout.

“Augh!” You stifle a giggle, though your voice is still wobbly from sobs.

He notices you and sits up, bewildered. As he takes in his surroundings, you sit and watch.

“Who are you? Where am I? Where is Arrax?” 

“I am nobody now, and we are in the middle of the ocean,” You gesture to the water surrounding every inch of your sight. “And I don’t know who Arrax is.” He sure has a lot of questions, though you can’t fault him for it.

“Arrax, my dragon. I… I think he’s…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

You stare at him in shock.

“Your dragon? The dragon that fell out of the sky in twenty pieces?” You question, voice heated. “The one that just killed a crew of fifty-two men?”

He’s silent for a moment. “So he’s dead?”

“Of course he’s dead, you imbecile! Did you not hear what I just said? He killed them. All of them. I’m the only survivor.”

“I’m sorry.” He mutters. He brings his knees to his chest and hugs them. “It was never my fault. It was him that killed Arrax, so it is him that killed your crew.”

“Who is him?”

“That bastard of a prince, Aemond. He and his dragon, Vhagar, chased us across the skies and attacked us in the air.”

Your hands tighten into fists as your throat constricts like you swallowed a spiny rock. You regret ever saving the boy, and you regret not slitting your throat when you heard of your betrothal to the murderer. Everything you’ve heard about Aemond is true. Your rage boils into hatred, and you swear that if you ever see him you will die and take him with you.

“So that must mean you’re a Targaryen too?” You say, trying to keep your voice level. It’s a skill you had to learn as a noble lady, but the hate building in your chest is almost too violent to quiet.

“Lucerys Velaryon, my lady.” He eyes you, taking note of your expensive yet ruined dress. He must know you’re not a commoner either.

You know the Targaryens are the only ones with proper access to a dragon, but you should have known that only someone descended from one could cause such absolute and utter destruction. It’s not Lucerys’s fault, you tell yourself. Don’t put the blame on him. Put on a smile and become your best even-tempered and kind self. But gods, the way you want to wring his neck for an event he seemingly had no control over.

“Why did he do it?” You ask. The tears from earlier start creating a pressure behind your eyes again. 

“Because I took his eye.” Lucerys’s voice is weak, but it has the strum of nobility that you know like a well-oiled harp. “He wanted revenge, an eye for an eye. So I ran. He found me in the sky and bit my dragon in half. I never meant to kill anybody.” So they’re all the same, the princes. Hardened and cruel and psychopaths. “Did you save me?”

“I suppose I did.” You want so badly to say ‘but I shouldn’t have’, but you hold your tongue.

“That is a debt I can never repay. Thank you. I’m truly sorry.” You shake your head. It’s not his fault, you repeat. You still cannot find it in yourself to forgive him. “What’s your name?”

You think for a brief moment. It wouldn’t hurt, you think, to tell him your name. That way when you both die, at least the man you’re stuck with will know the name of the woman that hated his family the most out of anyone in the world.

You speak your name, including your Martell family name, and he looks at you, eyes widened so much you think they will pop out of his skull.

“Aemond’s betrothed?” You are marrying into the greens, and Lucerys feels as though he should hate you for it. Unluckily for his honor, he cannot despise the girl who pulled him from the sea.

“Yes, what sorry luck.” You spit. “I would rather drown than go through with it.” You think of the promise you made to Finhard. “No, I would put poison in his chalice and watch him drink it.”

He laughs a bit, his voice ringing out against the repetitive sound of waves. “And I will buy the poison.” You allow yourself to smile. You hate it, but you smile.

You’ve always been the weirder daughter, yet the one that tries to talk with the lords and ladies and puts on a shining performance. That’s where the smile comes from, from all the times you’ve had to put your pearly whites on display. The morals have gone to shit, but the reflex is still burned into your person.

“You needn’t call me ‘my lord’. We’re even here, out on the sea.” He says. You can feel that’s not the only reason. A spark of guilt shimmers in the corners of his eyes. “Just call me Luke.”

“And you may call me by my name, Luke.” He’s right. There are no titles, only salt water and spray.

You watch the moon in the sky as it shines its beams down on your face. It sees everything. Every deal in secret, every promise you’ve ever made. It’s a gentle reminder that every person sees the same thing every night. You and Luke sit in silence, staring up at it. You wonder if your mother sees it too, from her ship. Can Finhard and the other sailors see it, from their watery graves? Can they forgive you for not saving them? For saving the life of a boy, whose mass is just under the weight limit of the boat? You glance over at him.

He’s staring at you, at how the soft rays of the moon highlight the curves and edges of your face. He feels a pit in his stomach, one that is not from hunger. It’s a gnawing feeling, guilt. He hates that he had to trade his life for fifty sailors. He thinks he would rather be at the bottom of the sea than see more tear tracks on your face. Another feeling eats at him, though he’s not sure what it is. It makes his insides churn and scrambles his mind.

He averts his eyes and looks at the stars once more.

You spend another two days floating in the water. You’re both sunburned and salt dried, and his skin is red and peeling. The conversation between the both of you had been dry up until today.

“May I have the flask?” He asks. You hand it over. For two whole days, all you have had to eat and drink is two flasks of water, a packet of dried fish, and some bread that has gone mushy from the water slowly seeping into your boat. You have to bail it out every hour or so.

“Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?” Luke questions, his voice rough. “Is anyone coming for us?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I would like to think there are boats out searching, but truly, they must expect us to be dead. Besides that, we have drifted so far away from the shipwreck that we might not be found even if they were searching.” He shakes his head, hair stiff from the salty spray.

“I would like to keep hope alive.”

“You are the only one.” You hear a small laugh from next to you. 

“You know, I could not ask for a better person to be stranded with.” He screws the cap back onto his flask carefully.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you certainly know how to ration supplies. And your optimism is inspiring.” A giggle bubbles up from beneath your buried feelings. 

“Is that sarcasm, my dear lord?”

He smiles. You can’t help but notice that his smile is contagious, the kind that reaches his eyes. The kind you found yourself dreaming about, and the kind you are certain your betrothed never wears. 

“Only if you make it out to be.” He pauses. “So, what was your life like in Dorne?”

Your eyes narrow. Small talk? It brings you back to your past. Talking to potential suitors and bearing their questions as they try to judge if you’re worth their money. It’s almost nice, the reminder. Before the wreck, you had been happy. Cheerful, even. You were nothing like you are now, hardened and weak and so close to putting sand in your pockets and drowning you can taste the seawater. 

“Why do you ask?”

“I figured it would be nice to know you. To really know you.” His words bring an odd sense of comfort to you.

“It was much nicer than this. I had friends and family, that was the best part. I never wanted for much of anything. I suppose I felt out of place sometimes, and I felt lonely like nothing else, but it helped to know that I could always have a home with the people I loved.” He nods, and the waves push against the boat. The sun is setting, condemning you to another sleepless night. “What about you?”

“I love my home, my people, and my family. I never felt up to the task of being lord of Driftmark, though,” He confesses, “and sometimes I still feel like a fraud. Gods, I don’t know why I told you that.” He knows. There’s something about your eyes, something that makes him want to spill every secret he has ever had. He wants to tell you about the time he stole Aemond’s knife, causing Aemond to pick a fight with Aegon. Or when he heard an argument between his mother and stepfather, or when his older brother snuck a frog into the pocket of a handmaiden. Your eyes burn with stifled anger and buried hopes and love.

You look at him with an odd expression. “It’s alright. Might as well get everything out while you can.” You know the feeling of not being enough well. “I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully when we get out of here.” You find yourself comforting him for god knows what reason. You should be angry, full of hatred and buzzing bees, but you can only feel sympathy for the boy across from you.

“When we get out of here? Where was that optimism earlier?” He teases, making you smile.

“It was killed and brought back to life. I have decided that I’m not going to die.” His laugh rings out, showering you in a feeling that makes you shiver.

“That’s a good thing to decide. I swear it too, we are not going to die. Aemond will never kill our spirit nor our bodies.” He takes your hands, palms rough and calloused. It makes your heart pound in a way you never expected. “We will be alright.”

You nod, hope blooming in your heart. Suddenly, the world seems just a little bit brighter. That’s when you see it; the seagull flying overhead.

You gasp, pointing up to the sky. It lets out a sharp cry as it circles around, and soon Luke is looking at it too. You’re so relieved that tears well up in your eyes.

Land must be near. It has to be. 

“Praise the gods.” He grins, dropping your hands to shield his eyes from the sun. “We will surely reach the shores soon.”

“I can only hope.” You whisper.

You spend another day on the water, your hopeful eyes searching for mountains or fields. All you can see is blue water, blue skies, and Lucerys Velaryon. You found that you’ve grown to like him, as fucked as your past self might have considered it. He actually treats you like a person. 

He squints into the distance. “I still don’t see anything. Maybe… maybe the bird was a fluke. A gull straying too far from the shore.”

You hit his shoulder lightly. “Don’t think like that.”

“It seems we’ve switched roles,” He smiles, “you’re the positive one now.”

“We certainly have rubbed off on each other.” The corners of your mouth lift into a little grin. Truth be told, your own hope is starting to fade, but you will never let him know. 

You’ve begun to notice things about the sea that you have never seen before. Schools of small fish darting below the surface, the pattern of the waves, even how chilly the water is. As the sun shines down, the water is peaceful. Maybe it’s a side effect of the trauma, or maybe it’s just you growing more comfortable with the idea of salt water. In any case, you suppose you need to look at its beauty to fan the dying flame of light burning inside you. It’s far easier to love than to keep hating. 

“The day is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” You whisper. 

“I suppose it is.” He says, but he’s not looking at the sky.

You are infatuating. The way the sun glints off your eyes enraptures him and keeps him in a state of lovely drunkenness. “Do you wish to marry my uncle?” There’s a hint of something more behind his voice. It’s almost desperate, and the thought makes you shiver.

You hesitate. “Not particularly. It would bring honor to my family, that I am sure of. So I will do it, but I will likely not enjoy it.”

“I understand that. I myself am betrothed to someone I can’t see myself loving.”

“The lady Rhaena Targaryen?” You know of her. The idea of him marrying the girl painted by the gods twists your heart in a way you can’t even comprehend.

He sighs. “Yes. It is my duty, but I cannot see her as anything but a sister. That’s all she’s been to me my entire life.”

“Duty is a wicked thing,” You muse, “pulling us away from opportunities to enrich our own lives.”

He nods. “If you could choose, is there anyone you would want to be married to?”

You think for a bit but eventually shake your head. “Do you have a special someone?”

“I am beginning to discover one.” He says. What does he mean by that?

When you look at him, staring far into the distance, you start to realize.

When the days grow dim, you huddle into each other for warmth. That’s why you fall asleep tonight, softened by his touch. Finally, you sleep for more than half an hour at a time. Luke’s arms are wrapped around you, as the lifeboat leaves little room for comfort, and the rock of the ship lulls you into a dream.

You wake to a jolt. You have no idea how long you’ve been asleep, but the moon is out and there is sand underneath your hull. Sand. Ground. You scramble to sit up, pulling Luke along with you. “Sand! Luke, it’s sand. We’ve made it! Gods be good, we have made it to land.” You grab at the wet grains, letting them clump and filter through your fingers. He lets out a loud cheer and pulls you in.

Out of nowhere, as you still have earth in your hands, he kisses you. His lips are rough and dry, but so are yours. He tastes like salt water and love.

When he finally pulls away, he is grinning like a lunatic. “We’ve made it, my lady. We survived.”

“What happened to our no titles agreement?” You tease, still flustered. Your cheeks are as hot as the surface of the sun.

“We’re on land now. The rules of society apply again, I’m afraid.” His whisper ghosts against your ear like he’s almost afraid to lose the closeness he gathered over the course of the last few days.

“Of course,” You say, pressing your lips to his cheek, “I would expect nothing different from such a high-ranking and strong man such as yourself.” 

He places a hand where you kissed him. Your skin may be chapped, but that damned kiss was sweeter and softer than spun sugar.

“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding, my lady.” A glint of humor dances in his eye.

He steps out of the boat and offers a hand to you. The ground wobbles under your feet and you almost fall, but he is there to steady you. “Wait, I know this beach!” He realizes as he gazes upon the scenery. “It’s the beach off Dragonstone. I’m… I’m home.”

“Really?” You feel hope bubbling through your body. “You know where we are?”

“I do. Dragonstone is there, above those cliffs. Come on, let’s go!” He tugs your arm just a bit too hard, sending you sprawling into the sand. You grab onto his sleeve and pull him down too, leaving you both in a fit of giggles. 

You’re both weak and tired and sore, but your flames grow brighter every second you’re on solid land. “Race me!” He yells, taking off from the ground on shaky feet. You dart after him, all your earlier burdens seemingly gone.

You probably won’t catch him, but it’s okay. Right now, your future is ahead of you, your rage is behind, the land pounds beneath your feet, and the boy with brown hair is calling for you to join him.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

Taglist (bolded means unable to tag): @mmmimilan @its-halleys-comet @savagemickey03 @persephonesportal @lovelyliliya @the-jess-life @spaceandstars @bbosica @hopelesswritergall @watercolorskyy

[colonelpancakes]

I am, at long last, getting around to watching the new season of The Dragon Prince so. Have some of my thoughts on the new episodes. Uh I guess this is kind of a liveblog thing? Idk, I wrote these down while I was watching the episode. Under the cut because this ended up getting quite long. Image IDs are in the alts. I'm new to this be nice to me-

Okay, is it just me or does this startouch elf look kinda like Sarai? I swear she does, she has like the same face shape. I don't know, maybe it's just me and my god awful facial recognition but... 👀

Also, "We are, all of us, stardust held together by love for an instant." is such a beautiful quote. It reminds me of the Minecraft End Poem.

Ooh, I love the twist on the previous Mystery of Aaravos intro. I wonder if this is gonna be the intro for the whole season or if it'll switch to something else after this episode?

Poor Terry he does not deserve to be dealing with all this shit. He's such a sweetheart. A little bit of a fucked up sweetheart but a sweetheart nonetheless.

Oh so Viren’s not dead. Huh. I need to rewatch the S5 finale because I’m gonna be honest, I do Not remember exactly what happened. Viren was going to die if he didn’t kill Sir Sparklepuff? I think? Or maybe that was just what they thought was gonna happen and there was a chance it wouldn’t? I don’t remember. Anyways, congrats Viren on your new will to live.

Claudia. Claudia what did you do Claudia?

Claudia, why is the sand covered in blood?

CLAUDIA!

Oh poor Terry... You can see the moment he spots the severed wing.

Hey, quick question, WHY IS THIS SHOW STILL RATED Y7? This would have fucking traumatized me as a seven year old! I thought there was a limit on how much blood you can show on a Y7 show, HELLO?? OUGH.

“It’s like you said. You do anything for family. However dangerous, however vile.” “No. No that’s… that’s not quite right. It’s never what I meant. You do anything for your children. Never the other way around. No parent wants their child to suffer for them.” Ough… Oh that hurts. Ohhhh. Also, “no that’s not quite right” is the same thing he says to her in the first episode when she says something weird. Callbacks to simpler times ow that hurts.

OH YEAH. JUST RIP MY HEART OUT WHY DON'T YOU? Augh.

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST GIVE CLAUDIA’S VA AN AWARD. NOW. That is hands down actually the most like. Realistic depiction of someone crying in any media I have ever encountered. The way she sounds like a child having a breakdown? She’s not crying quietly, she’s screaming and sobbing oh my god. I literally started tearing up watching as like a sympathetic response good grief. Who is Claudia’s voice actress? I looked it up and apparently it’s Racquel Belmonte. Give her like fifty awards right now

Viren. Viren listen. I appreciate that you are attempting to heal and face justice and become a better person separated from dark magic. I really do appreciate it. Good for you. HOWEVER. Perhaps, just maybe, abandoning your daughter, who has become an amputee less than a day ago, in the wilderness with no one but her boyfriend after she just completed a very traumatizing ritual AND knowing that she has severe abandonment issues after her mother and brother both left her. Is not the best move? Like. That girl is not mentally stable she needs support. She does not need her dad abandoning her on a beach, covered in blood and missing a leg as she screams and cries for him not to leave her. Viren, just caring about your daughter does not automatically make you a good dad. Viren. Viren you have to actually stay and support your child and NOT LEAVE HER IN THE FUCKING WILDERNESS. I do, though appreciate how they are creating a character who does CARE about his children so so much. And is still an absolutely god awful father to both of them.

Awww the baitlings are so cute 🥹

Pondering the Orb 🧙‍♂️

Callum… Callum you good? I am getting a very bad feeling about Callum being so adamant about destroying it. I feel like that is absolutely how Aaravos gets released and maybe he’s controlling Callum? This all feels like a bad idea. Also, I will admit the Lord of The Rings joke made me giggle.

Exactly what I was saying, Rayla! Destroying the pearl sounds like a terrible idea.

Ohhh… Poor Zym… He misses his mama. Also, I can’t remember if this was in previous seasons, but I appreciate the stitching in the painting where it was mended after being ripped apart. Such a good detail.

Hey Callum, why are you glowing with star magic? Is it because Aaravos is possessing y- oh nevermind it’s the monkey.

Mmmm the difference between Rayla and Callum. Rayla will put the safety of the world over her loved ones. Callum will put his loved ones over the safety of the world. Rayla refuses doing something that could potentially endanger the world even if it would mean getting her parents back.

Oh, so it’s not Aaravos influencing Callum it’s just Callum being anxious. Also, give Callum’s voice actor an award he's nailed the tone of "so filled with anxious energy you can't stop you have to do something, it's like you're driven by a motor." and that is a very specific tone.

[More in reblogs because I ran out of room.]

[loen-kennededy]

ohhhh twinkatron 3000 i have more for you!

I have over 100! maybe this will become a daily occurrence 😸

Oh dear fucking God…

1. I don’t look at my account so I don’t have to worry about that one.

2. What the absolute fucking bullshit is this, that never happened that is not me, what the fuck??

3. I have no words.

4. I CAN’T GET PREGNANT. That jacket is kind of nice though, should I get a blue jacket?

5. Probably an accurate depiction on what was going through my brain.

6. I’m going to barf.

7. Sup fuckers.

8. Bitch probably did.

9. I have no idea who the first two are, but I can confirm that I have diagnosed depression.

Jesus christ, who even makes these????

[hyunjinbiased-blog]

Dead Island 2 Incorrect Quotes Featuring Y/N part 3

@gamergirl-06

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

(FtM Reader)

Y/N: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Amy: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Bruno: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it.

Jacob: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Dani: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn.

Ryan:

Ryan: I have emotional scars

....

(Male Reader)

Y/N : In your opinion, what's the height of stupidity?

Amy: *turning to Bruno* How tall are you?

....

(Fem Reader)

Y/N : What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Bruno : 'Prettiest Smile'

Ryan :'Nicest Personality'

Jacob: 'Most likely to start a bar fight"

Dani: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

....

(FtM Reader)

Y/N : Favorite horror movie?

Carla : It

Ryan : Saw

Jacob: Annabelle

Bruno: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I'd be the only one who didn't know the lyrics

....

(FtM Reader)

Y/N : Ifyou bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous.

Carla : What if it bites me and it dies!?

Ryan: Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Carla, learn to listen.

Jacob: What if it bites itself and I die?

Bruno: That's voodoo.

Dani: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Carla : That's correlation, not causation

Jacob: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Bruno: That's kinky.

Y/N:Oh my God.

....

(Male Reader)

*The squad is over at Y/N 's house*

Carla : Ohhhh, we each get our own oven?

Y/N :...N-No...

Y/N, laughing: How many ovens do you think I have???

Carla, motioning to their kitchen: Three, I thought! !

Ryan:I see a-

Y/N, motioning to one device: This is a microwave.

Carla : Oh, well l-

Y/N : Hey wait wait, actually- hang on- *fiddles with the buttons on the microwave* Y/N, amazed: lts got a bake setting!

Jacob: Ohoho, you learn something new every day!

Bruno: Do we- Do we roshambo for who gets to pick first?

Y/N : Now l've just discovered I have more ovens than I thought, we don't have to roshambo nothin!

Y/N:I am someone who owns four ovens.

Y/N ,louder and way too happy: I am someone... who owns FOUR OVENS..

Y/N:I didn't know. I was so rich with ovens...

Dani, pointing to another appliance: Also the toaster oven! Y/N

Carla: Ohhh,

Carla: Toasty boy! Four- Five ovens! Y/N

Y/N, fucking ECSTATIC: I AM SOMEONE WHO OWNS FIVE OVENS

....

(Fem Reader)

Y/N: We need to distract these guys

Carla : Leave it to me

Carla : Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss.

Ryan,Jacob, and Bruno: *Immediately begin arguing*

Dani, watching in horror: Oh this. I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

....

[fuckingsimpthatswho]

Demon Slayer Incorrect Quotes

I love doing these and I want to know what you guys think. I'm more then willing to take suggestions on the next fandom I write these for!

The Squad is playing Minecraft together Tanjiro: Ooh, a village! You know what that means! Nezuko: Hostile takeover? Inosuke: Genocide? Muichrio: Steal everything! Tanjiro: No, I meant- Genya: I didn’t know we would fight the ender dragon this early! A village worth of beds isn’t enough! Aoi: WHAT ARE WE EVEN DOING?!?! Tanjiro: …I was going to say move into the village and become the mayors… Genya: Ohhhh! That sounds like a better idea. Aoi: Agreed.

Genya: If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous. Tanjiro: What if it bites me and it dies?! Genya: Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Tanjiro, learn to listen. Muichrio: What if it bites itself and I die? Genya: That's voodoo. Nezuko: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Genya: That's correlation, not causation. Aoi: What if we bite each other and neither of us die? Genya: That's kinky. Kanao: Oh my god.

Aoi: How much you wanna bet Tanjiro got a Lap dance from Kanao? Zenitsu: If that happened, Muichrio can drink free tonight. Muichrio: As much as I love the thought of having free drinks I don't like the idea of Tanjiro receiving a Lap dance from someone other than me. Aoi: Hey Kanao, did you give Tanjiro a lap dance? Kanao: So what if I did? Aoi, to Zenitsu: I guess Muichrio is drinking free tonight. Kanao: Be right back, I'm gonna go cry- Tanjiro, entering the room: What the f-

Inosuke: What did you get Tanjiro for his birthday? Muichrio: I got him a kitten. Inosuke: Really? Me too! Genya: I also got him a cat. Zenitsu: Looks like we had the same idea. Muichrio: Nezuko, please tell me you didn't get Tanjiro a cat as well! Nezuko: …I got him a kitty. later Tanjiro, in his apartment surrounded by cats and kittens: This is the best birthday ever!

Genya: Bye Muichrio! Bye Zenitsu! Bye Tanjiro! Bye Nezuko! Bye Muichrio! Kanao: You said ‘bye Muichrio’ twice. Genya: I like Muichrio.

Genya: My crush isn’t picking up on my hints. Inosuke: What hints have you given them? Genya: Well, I think about them a lot. Genya: And sometimes I even think about talking to them.

Muichrio: That's ridiculous, Genya doesn't have a crush on me. Aoi: Yes he does. Zenitsu: Yes he does. Genya: Yes I do.

Inosuke: Fight me! Aoi: gets on one knee and pulls out a ring Aoi: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

Zenitsu: Okay, two person huddle. Nezuko: You can't huddle with two people. This is just a hug.