#all of them just have to live with the guilt

[sturnmaee]

ᡣ𐭩 Make It Up

tags: bf!matt x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fem receiving, p in v, oral, use of baby, i lowkey forgot how to fucking tag .

summary: you and matt get in a fight so he decides to make it up to you ;)

word count: 1,250 (ish) words .

more under the cut

quick little a/n: i hope this is okay! i have been trying to write for so long — literal MONTHS — i’ve just been so unmotivated and busy!! i love you all so much. i was high asf while proofreading this omg.. i hope it’s not all bad .

The silence was deafening. Matt and I had just gotten into another pointless disagreement that left us both feeling shitty. All couples have their ups and downs sure, but Matt and I were arguing almost everyday now.

I don't blame him, he's been so caught up with his brothers and filming endlessly while I've been pent up in our small home.

The cold air hugs me tight as we sit on opposite sides of the couch, minding our business, neither of us daring to say a word. With the atmosphere being so quiet the sounds of a buzzing fridge fills my ear. Matt stares quietly at his phone trying to act preoccupied as I sit hugging myself and watching my own. I can see him in the corner of my eye wanting to say something, his mouth slightly moving.

"I," he says croakily before clearing his throat, "I'm sorry baby." he says his tone coated in guilt and regret.

I ignore him at first, before staring back at him with glossy doe eyes, a small, sad smile spreads across my face before I scoot closer to him on the couch. He stretches his right arm out inviting me into his chest.

As I lay my head on his warm chest he places a soft, loving kiss on my forehead, fixing my stray hairs with his gentle fingers, his other free hand making it's way shyly to my hip. I stare up at him as he watches down on me, my hand resting on his chest as my leg presses up against his lap.

"Let's not fight anymore," I whisper softly, "please."

"I promise, pretty girl." He replies in a reassuring, soothing voice, while stroking my hip before sneaking his hand under my shirt.

A trail of goosebumps follows the patterns of his fingertips on my skin, my hand cupping his stubble covered jaw as he takes my lips in passionately.

Matt pulls away with puffy lips before taking me in with his deep blue eyes, clouded with lust.

"Mmh, let me make it up to you." he says with an intoxicating voice before sinking back down on the couch to nip at the freckle on my neck.

He pulls away once again as I nod my head in response, the corners of his plump lips turning upwards. He holds my waist tight while fixing my position as he hops off the couch, kneeling down between my legs on the cold, wooden floor.

His fingertips toy with the material of my gray, baggy sweats, almost asking for permission,

“Is this okay baby?” he asks in the softest tone, his fingers hooked underneath my waist band.

I nod in response. The small gesture excites Matt and he tugs at my pants, pulling them down with my underwear, tossing them carelessly into a sad pile in the corner of the living room. My soft thighs now exposed as Matt takes in my legs with his lustful eyes.

He plants his warm hands on my thighs and he moves closer to my pulsing core. His tongue licks a long stripe up my slick while he holds eye contact, his fluffy hair sitting perfectly out of place. I gasp at his touch and my hand trails down to his hair, lightly tugging at it in response.

“Fuck Matt.” I moan softly while tipping my head back in pleasure.

He works his mouth at my sensitive clit, sucking, nipping, and licking so perfectly as he hums against me sending waves of sensation through my veins. One of his hands leaves my thigh, making its way closer to my wet pussy, he drags his slender fingers through my heat before pushing two fingers in softly.

His fingers curl perfectly inside of me, reaching places I never could on my own. I tighten my grip on his long hair as moans and mumbles spill from my lips, Matt continues to penetrate my walls and my swollen clit.

My legs shake, constricting around his head and he laughs against my pussy.

“Already close?” He says with fake sympathy while staring up at me with puffy, wet lips.

“Mmh s-so close.” I barely manage to reply with a full sentence, my back arching at the stimulation.

Matt moves away from my throbbing pussy, bringing his face closer to mine, my chest rising and falling rapidly as he presses the tent in his rough jeans against my burning clit. He hovers his lips over mine, breathing lightly.

"You taste so fuckin' good, baby." He groans against my lips before sinking into them, a light tang hitting my lips as his tongue explores my mouth.

"Matt.." I say softly, my tone drenched in lust and neediness.

My hands grips his belt, fiddling with it as i struggle to undo it. Matt laughs softly before standing up, swiftly undoing his belt and ripping it quickly out of the loops on his jeans, he tosses it to the pile of my clothes before kicking his jeans and boxers off.

"This what you want, hmm sweet girl?" He teases in a deep voice, his tip leaky and red, begging for touch. His hands make their way to the hem of my tee before ripping it over my head.

His eyes take in my bare chest, a smirk growing on his face.

"Such a bad girl, wearing nothing underneath just for me?" He says while positioning his tip at my entrance, his hand leading it through the puddle in core.

He pushes his length in, stretching me out immediately, letting a low moan out as he holds my hips supporting me, pulling me down onto his throbbing cock.

I let out a string of curses while moaning softly, my hands gripping the couch cushion for support. Matt picks up his pace, his thighs hitting mine as he penetrates my core. He lets out a quiet whimper, he icy blue eyes locked onto mine.

His hands grip my skin, tight enough to leave marks as he pushes deep inside of me. Matt lowers his head to meet mine his breath warm against my ear,

“I want you to cum for me baby,” he grunts, “leave a mess all over me.”

His words are ecstasy in my ear, he leaves a harsh kiss at my neck, my nails digging into his back as I feel myself getting closer.

“Oh God Matt.” I moan loudly.

Matt’s thrusts become sloppier, and I feel my orgasm creeping closer. My walls clamp down on his twitching cock the same way my fingers cling onto his bicep. Our moans and the sound of skin slapping bounces around the quiet room that now smells of sex.

I grip Matt tightly as my orgasm collapses over me, he thrusts harshly before spilling his warm cum into my walls.

“F-fuck.” He stutters though his gritted teeth before collapsing on top of me, my body jerking at the pleasure washing over me.

Matt kisses my lips softly while slowly pulling out and lying on the couch next to me, pulling the stray blanket over our sweaty bodies. He drags his fingers through the mixture of cum and saliva leaking from and pushes it into me, making me shake.

“No more fighting,” Matt says quietly, holding me tight, “I love you too much for that stupid shit.”

I giggle softly at his words while burying myself in his exposed chest, pressing a small kiss on his pale skin. I nod lightly, wrapping my leg around him and he squeezes me tightly.

this is actually the worst i’ve ever written 💀 i’m just tryna get back into write so bare wit me

#sturniolo triplets #fanfic #smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

[lovelybrooke]

Letters Never Sent (Yandere Malleus x Reader)

---

A letter wrote by Malleus Draconia, never sent to the object of his desires. Why don't you open it up and see what's inside...

masterlist

---

Dear My Child of Man,

I am writing this letter with no intention of you receiving it. 

Maybe this is "silly" as you would describe it, but I find myself slowly losing the restraint on my emotions as the days go by. My heart fills with unfamiliar feelings as I think of you, mixing together into an ever present sense of desire that makes me near shameful. 

I find myself thinking of you always, from the moment I wake, to the moment I fall asleep. You seep your way into my dreams, where for but a moment I can relish in the fantasy that is you. I dream of your soft voice, your comforting gaze, your addicting presence. You are so captivating that I often forget I'm dreaming, until I awake with an aching feeling I've come to know as longing. 

I long for you, I've learned.

I long for your voice, for your gaze, for your presence. I long for every essence of your being to be directed towards me. Some may call me a fool, scoff my way and paint me a madman, but I am nothing without my love for you, so it bothers me none. I often wonder if you think of me as intensely as I do you. I have to admit it is exciting, the mere thought of you reciprocating my feelings warms me so. It is intoxicating, even as a fantasy, simply imagining a life with you is enough for me. Somedays, I imagine gifting you with an unending dream, one where it is just us, away from the rest of the world. Away from duty, and work, and anything else that could distract us from each other, from our love. We would be together and we would be happy until the end of your days, and even after you're gone, I would continue loving you. 

You were always so opposed to the idea, immortality. I remember the look on your face when you realized just how long I had lived, the sadness, the remorse, the pain. At that moment, it was not something I feared, more accurately not something I thought much about. It was not until I met you that it dawned upon me that at some point, you would leave this world, and that it would keep moving. Time would progress, people would grieve, but they would move on, plants would sprout and grow and wilt and eventually grow again, but I would remain stuck. Stuck with my dreams and fantasies. Stuck with the memory of you so present it would be like you never left in the first place. 

Even now, I fear what the world would be like without you. Not much fills me with fear, my Child of Man, but I've found myself scared lately. The thought of you leaving, of going back to your home, and never returning scares me. It is almost comical in a way, I find myself dreading the thought even while writing this. You should be proud, how easily you are able to terrify me is an excellent skill, one many would love to possess. 

You were my first true friend, did you know that? I have Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but I've always been treated as above them, as something untouchable. You were the first person to treat me like an equal, to bless me with the wonderful feeling of friendship. I often find myself racked with guilt, why should I desire more from you when you've already given me so much already? It is selfish, to seek out your love so desperately when I've already taken so much from you. You are my friend, and I should value our friendship above all. 

But that is why I fear, because my love for you goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. I would even say it goes beyond the boundaries of love. It is a longing so deep I wonder if I'll ever be the same again, all while knowing that I am too engrossed in the feeling that is you to ever go back. A longing so deep I yearn with desire unexplainable to man, desire so profound and raw that I am sure you have changed something within me. A longing so deep the closest word to describe it is obsession, but even obsession doesn't explain the hundreds of letters, all unset, pilling away, all centering you. 

Fear, love, what do distinctions matter if every single one of my thoughts center you. 

I have no desire to send this letter, my Child of Man, but I hope with every meeting, every passing day, every time we are together, you are able to feel the love I hold for you. I hope my longing, my devotion, my never ending, boundless obsession is clear to you, my love. 

Because I fear what will happen when I run out of paper.

---

A/n: here's to me hoping that this will break my writers block.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst malleus #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst

[cluescorner]

Arlecchino's whole deal is unbelievable

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder what's causing my weird powers? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta become King and then kill my "Mother".

*Kills Clervie and "Mother"*

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I was able to defeat a Fatui Harbinger when I'm like 17 or so? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta be in jail and become a Harbinger.

*Is in jail for a while and becomes a Harbinger*

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I am-

Pierro: Hey what's up hello, anyways you're descended from the Crimson Moon Dynasty of Khaenri'ah. I'm sure that this is a lot for you to take in so-

Arlecchino: Ok.

Pierro: ...You're just cool with that?

Arlecchino: IDK maybe? I can't really worry about that at the moment, I'm a father now. This orphanage full of children I love (who also are child soldiers and are not allowed to leave or else I'll execute them except maybe now I'm just gonna wipe their memories IDK I'm morally complex) isn't gonna run itself.

*Runs the orphanage/spy recruitment initiative*

Me, the fucking player: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE KHAENRI'AN? WHY WASN'T THIS BROUGHT UP IN YOUR FUCKING QUEST?? OR ANYTHING ELSE????

Arlecchino, talking to me through my phone: I honestly don't know why you care, I'm too busy to give a shit. Anyways, I'm gonna go fight fate itself I guess. I'm sure that I don't share any thematic parallels with any other Khaenri'an characters (particularly as it relates to acting and family angst) and that I haven't made the idea of 'curses' on Khaenri'ans and what they entail even more complicated than they already were. See ya.

#arlecchino #genshin impact #pierro #WHY IS THE GAME FUCKING GLOSSING OVER THE FACT THAT SHE IS KHAENRI'AN?! #Not only that but she is the first Khaenri'an we've met (that we know of) who's from the Crimson Moon Dynasty #I'm so fucking confused #Did Celestia place a DIFFERENT curse on members of the Crimson Moon Dynasty?? Or is this stuff all of them can do??? #HELP #She also seems almost...uninterested in the fact that she's descended from Khaenri'ah. Which honestly I think is interesting. #I don't know if I like it yet but when every other Khaenri'ah character has one of their major traits being that they super fucking #care that they are Khaenri'an (whether that be Kaeya with his paranoia/destiny/duty or Dain with his guilt over his failure/desire to #prevent our sibling from fucking with anything too much or whatever the fuck is going on with Pierro) #having a character who is Khaenri'an but doesn't seem to particularly be invested in that part of themself is different #she cares more about the curse and its effects on her then she ever really cares about the Crimson Moon Dynasty or the cataclysm #IDK I think it's neat from a character writing angle. or at least it has the potential to be if the writers do a good job. #But from a 'I like maybe 3 things in this game and one of them is Khaenri'ah' perspective it SUCKSSSSS #That part of the plot is already suffering from chronic live-service storytelling disease where people just straight up don't tell you #shit that they logically SHOULD BE TELLING YOU because the game needs to save plot points to build hype around #so for one of like 4-ish (depending on how much we count Albedo) Khaenri'an major characters to give us literally 1 and 1/2 voicelines #kinda sucks ngl. but again it's also interesting and realistic for Arlecchino and from that angle I like it #she doesn't care about what fate says her place in the world is. she's gonna carve her own and being Khaenri'an isn't relevant to #the life and identity she has built for herself. she isn't the type to look for answers she doesn't need. she's practical and efficient. #at the very least it's better than when Albedo 'I want to find all the world's truths' Kreideprinz doesn't let the audience in on his stuff

[lexirosewrites]

Adding to this if you don’t mind 🥰 also sorry my mind ran away with this

https://www.tumblr.com/lexirosewrites/747283241680175104/40-year-old-omega-steve-who-lives-a-boring-life

Maybe at the end of the rut, Eddie is smitten, but after a very awkward chat about the bite, they decided to take it slow. Still doesn’t stop Eddie from leaving flowers, gifting things, making food, just romance. Trying to court him, and Steve is enjoying it even though his conscious is trying to guilt him about the whole thing. It’s definitely a mixed mess in his head and when he gets symptoms and takes a test. He’s going to get his pup, but how will Eddie react. He thinks it’s just rut talk, but he’s totally the shopping parent, seeing the cutest onesie and impulse buys while Steve is the one that balances the checkbook. That’s one of the things that stresses him out is the lack of restraint. Steve tries to bring it up on multiple occasions about money and struggling when they have a baby one the way. Eddie somehow manages to always distracts him, whether with a romantic gesture one way or another.

Eddie hasn’t told Steve his real career (whether he’s an off season rock star, or maybe the creator of a gaming app. Something that gives him wealth so he rarely thinks on the matter of money when it comes to Steve and the baby). He just doesn’t think or really notice, even when Steve offers that they move into a new apartment together with two rooms to cut down on money spending. Eddie jumps at the idea because the idea of them sharing a bed every night excites him.

Of course it all probably comes to head when the stress is too much and Steve is put on bedrest, so Eddie is full on attentive. He does the choirs, the checkbook balancing, noting the cuts that Steve had to make when figuring his own pay and what he averaged Eddie made.

I fully believe Eddie is as oblivious to money as he is attentive to Steve. So he opens up to the older man, reassures that money is the least of their worries and that he promised to be more open. It definitely helps their relationship the last month or two they have alone.

(Link to my aforementioned ficlet this is based on)

I’m very tempted to write an actual fic about the original concept because I think it would be cute to write about older omega Steve handling the accidental mating to his younger alpha Eddie🥺

#slick Sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks #mpreg #cw mpreg #tw mpreg

[sweetcherryharry]

Begin Again — 06

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to get her voice to work.  "Harry," she managed to whisper, the word a mix of apprehension and a strange sense of relief.

Silence stretched across the line, broken only by the faint hum of his breathing. The tension that had simmered beneath the surface of their reunion was now a palpable force, thickening the air with unspoken words.

"Y/N," his voice finally came, hesitant yet laced with a surprising tenderness. "Are you alright?"

The question caught her off guard. Despite everything, his first concern was for her.  A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her – guilt, gratitude, and a lingering ache in her chest that spoke of the bond they'd once shared. "I… I will be," she finally managed, her voice trembling slightly.

"Have you…seen it?"  His question hung unfinished, the unspoken words echoing in her mind – Have you seen what's happening online?

A bitter laugh threatened to escape her lips. "Just a little bit," she admitted, the understatement of the year. Natalie and Maia had given her the broad strokes. It was enough to know that her carefully crafted world was about to implode.

"I'm so sorry." His voice was thick with sincerity, laced with an unspoken understanding of the maelstrom she was about to face.

Y/N closed her eyes, briefly overwhelmed. His apology, while genuine, did little to change the situation. "Don't be," she said softly, pushing down a bitter laugh.  "It's ironic, isn't it? All those years of hiding, and now…"  Her voice trailed off, unable to articulate the absurdity of it all.

"It's a mess," Harry finished for her, his voice heavy.  He seemed to understand the unspoken weight of her words, the sting of a love they'd protected so fiercely, now suddenly exposed in the harshest possible light.

A wave of memories washed over Y/N – the secrecy, the stolen moments, the fear of discovery that hung over them like a constant shadow. And then, the pain of their breakup still lingered, a dull ache that this unexpected reunion had reawakened.

"We were so careful," she whispered, the words filled with a mix of regret and resignation.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his voice. "I know," he said gently. "Believe me, I know." There was a hint of self-recrimination in his tone, the weight of the past they shared settling between them.

The memory of his invitation to Harryween suddenly resurfaced, a flicker of warmth amidst the chaos.  He had invited her back into his world, a tempting glimpse of what could be. But now… she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Harry," her voice was hesitant, "I don't think I can go to Harryween." The words were like a heavy weight settling on her chest.

Last night, after their bittersweet moment in the backstage bathroom, they had went out to the Love Band’s living room and conversed there happily for a while —by themselves and with other people—, and during those moments, he had invited her and her friends to the next show, which was Harryween.

She had agreed. The invitation was friendly, and she knew how amazing Harryween was. Besides, she knew her friends would love to go (Y/N too, even though she would keep it a secret).

But now… with all of this going on, she wasn’t so sure it was the best idea to attend. All eyes would be looking for the mystery girl in the crowd.

"I figured you might say that," he replied, his tone surprisingly understanding.  "It's probably for the best."

Despite his words, a pang of disappointment shot through Y/N. Part of her had hoped… but reason won out. It was simply too risky.

"But Y/N," Harry continued, a hesitant note entering his voice, "What if... what if there was a way?"

She sat up straighter, a flicker of curiosity battling her apprehension. "A way? What do you mean?"

"Think about it…" he said, "it's Harryween! Everyone will be in costume. You could disguise yourself, Maia and Natalie too. It will be packed with people all dressed up." A pause hung in the air as tension and possibility crackled between them.

Y/N's mind raced. The idea was both absurd and strangely tempting. Could she pull it off? Could things get back to normal, even just a little bit, in the middle of all this crazy mess?

"I don't know, Harry," she said finally, her voice laced with apprehension and a touch of yearning. "It sounds crazy."

"Maybe," he shot back, a hint of playfulness returning. "But sometimes, crazy's just what we need."

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips. There was a time when they'd thrived on a little bit of crazy, pushing boundaries and creating their own secret world. But this… this was on a whole different level. Public scrutiny, paparazzi, and the potential fallout felt like a hurricane waiting to erupt.

"Even with a disguise," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "there's no guarantee they won't recognize me. The media… they're relentless."

"We can take precautions," Harry assured her, his voice firm yet laced with a newfound determination. He was determined, he wanted to see her again.

The memory of their shared past, the stolen moments before and after his shows and clandestine meetings, sent a shiver down her spine. A tiny part of her, a part she'd buried deep down, yearned for a taste of that carefree intimacy again.

"Just… think about it, Y/N," he continued, his voice softening. "No pressure. But if you do decide… I'll make sure everything is arranged. Secure seats, a top-notch disguise… the works."

The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of the decision before her.  A part of her craved a sense of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with Harry outside the whirlwind of chaos. But the other part…the cautious, pragmatic part…knew the potential risks were immense.

"I… I'll let you know," she finally managed, her voice a mixture of apprehension and a strange sense of anticipation.

"Alright," Harry replied, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "And Y/N…"  he hesitated for a moment, "stay off your phone for now. Don't look at social media. Things are going to get…intense. My PR team will be in contact with me soon, and we'll figure out our next move together, okay?."

After she agreed, the call ended. 

Y/N sat with her friends, staring at the phone, her heart hammering in her chest. 

Harryween. Disguises. Stolen moments. It all felt like a dangerous, thrilling game. And deep down, a part of her was already considering the unimaginable– defying expectations and stepping back into Harry's world, if only for one last night.

Natalie and Maia exchanged worried glances, sensing the inner turmoil their friend was facing. The silence in the room hung heavy, broken only by the soft buzzing of Y/N's phone, each new notification a potential explosion of chaos.

"Well?" Maia finally broke the silence, her voice edged with concern. "What did Harry say?"

Natalie reached out, gently squeezing Y/N's hand. "We heard some of it, but… what's the plan?"

Y/N took a deep breath, the weight of the decision pressing down on her.  Should she tell them about Harry's crazy proposal? A part of her yearned to share the burden, while another feared their reaction.

"He…" she began hesitantly, then trailed off. How could she possibly explain the allure of stepping back into the madness, even for one night?

"He wants me to go to Harryween," she blurted out, unable to contain the secret any longer. “Want us to go to Harryween, tomorrow night.”

Natalie and Maia's eyes widened in surprise.

"Go? As in, be there?" Natalie asked, her voice incredulous. "Isn't that like…walking into the lion's den?"

Maia frowned. "But how? Won't everyone recognize you? It's the most exclusive concert of the whole tour!"

Y/N explained Harry's proposal in a hushed tone. "He says he can get us good seats… somewhere discreet. And disguises. He thinks with the right costume, no one would suspect a thing."

A flicker of excitement sparked in Natalie's eyes. "Honestly, that sounds kinda thrilling. Like a spy mission."

Maia, always the more practical one, shook her head. "It sounds like a recipe for disaster. Y/N, the press, Harry's fans… they'll be relentless. If they figure it out…"

Y/N knew her friend was right. It was a massive risk, a gamble with potentially devastating consequences.  But as she thought of Harry, and the possibility of a single night of stolen normalcy, her heart beat a little faster.

She took a deep breath, trying to process their reactions. Natalie's thrill-seeking nature mirrored a small part of her own, while Maia's caution resonated with her rational side.

"I know, I know," she sighed, running a hand through her hair.  "It sounds insane. But… there's this part of me," she paused, searching for the right words, "that yearns for it. Just one more night, one more concert. It also feels a bit bittersweet, since I attended the last Harryween…"  Her voice trailed off, a pang of nostalgia twisting  in her heart.

Natalie leaned in, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Y/N, we get it. This whole situation is crazy. But you have to do what feels right for you."

Maia nodded in agreement. "We're here for you, no matter what.  But please, think about this carefully. There may be fallout you haven't even considered."

Y/N's gaze fell on her phone again, the thousands of silent notifications piling up like a countdown to chaos.  "I need to think," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  "And… well, I'm waiting for Harry's team to propose some strategies. We'll have to see what they say."

The mention of last year's Harryween hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the life she'd left behind. It had been a magical night, filled with the thrill of Harry's performance and a shared secret only they knew. 

Could she recapture that magic, even in the midst of this storm?

—

Time seemed to both crawl and race by as Y/N sat alone in her apartment. The warmth of the recent shower did little to combat the chill that had settled in her bones. Strategies and concerns echoed in her head, endless 'what-ifs' twisting her stomach into knots.  

She'd ignored her social media all day, the constant stream of notifications a terrifying countdown she wasn't ready to face. Instead, she'd buried herself in meaningless tasks, tidying the apartment, anything to keep her hands busy and her mind from spiraling. Her phone buzzed incessantly, messages from worried acquaintances and distant friends piling up, demanding confirmation – was she the mystery girl? She couldn't even bring herself to read them. 

Eventually, the isolation was unbearable. Seeking any distraction, she messaged Natalie and Maia, assuring them she was okay, or as okay as someone could be in this situation.  The simple act of reaching out brought a sliver of normalcy back into her chaotic world. 

A flicker of her phone screen broke the renewed silence. A text from Harry.

She couldn’t help but feel her heart racing seeing the new notification on her phone.

Hi sunflower xx

Can we meet? I just had the PR meeting, and I’d like to talk about the options with you, in person.

A surge of adrenaline washed away the exhaustion. She didn't hesitate.

Yeah, sure, my place?

Not even a second after, there was a reply from him.

It’d be perfect :)

Can you send the address? xx

Since they had met and started dating while she was studying abroad in London, and then they moved together back then, she never had a place of her own in Los Angeles when they were dating. So, naturally, he didn’t know where she lived anymore.

She quickly shared her address, and decided to brew tea while she waited for him to arrive.

Within thirty minutes, there was a knock at her door. Y/N took a deep, steadying breath before opening it, revealing Harry on the other side. He looked slightly disheveled, the usual polish of his superstar persona replaced by a hint of vulnerability that tugged at her heart.

"Hey," he said, his voice low, a soft smile playing on his lips that seemed imbued with genuine warmth and a touch of nervousness.  

“Hey,” she replied, stepping to the side of the open door, “Please, come in.”

As he walked into the open space of the shared living room and kitchen, his green eyes scanned the place. “It’s a lovely place,” he remarked, his compliment genuine.

A strange sense of displacement washed over her as she watched him cross the threshold. This apartment –this space she'd meticulously chosen and decorated– represented a chapter of her life he had never been a part of. Seeing him here felt disorienting, like a dream overlapping with reality.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him, closing the door behind them. An echo of shared domesticity hung in the air, a reminder of a past they couldn't speak of. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, more out of habit than genuine hospitality.

Harry shook his head slightly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I'm alright, thanks."

A tense silence stretched between them as they both took a seat on the couch. The apartment, once her sanctuary after their break up, now felt charged with emotion. Everything felt too much – the weight of the online storm brewing outside, the secrets they carried, and now the disorienting intimacy of being alone together for the first time in almost a year.

"So," Harry began, running a hand through his hair – a nervous gesture she remembered all too well.  "How are you?" His question was gentle, his eyes reflecting a genuine concern that cut through the awkwardness.

Y/N looked away, her gaze settling on a framed photo on the bookshelf – a memento from a solo trip, a testament to the life she'd built for herself after him.  "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.  "Overwhelmed, I guess. Confused. This whole thing… it's surreal."

"I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry. For all of this." His apology hung in the air, heavy and sincere.

"It's okay," she forced a smile. "Don't worry about it. We always knew… there was a chance this could happen." Her voice trailed off, the unspoken words lingering between them. Fame had always been a looming shadow in their relationship, a constant threat to the fragile normalcy they'd tried to build.

"So," Harry began again, a hint of resignation in his voice, "about the PR meeting…"

And just like that, the fragile bubble of intimacy burst, and the focus shifted back to the harsh realities of their situation.

"It's not pretty," he admitted, a sigh escaping his lips.  "They're suggesting… well, the classic options. Deny everything. Issue a statement about respecting privacy. Simply ignore everything and keep quiet. Or..." he hesitated, meeting her gaze, "they suggested we frame it as being long-term friends, and that we would hang out from time to time, explaining me being in your picture.”

The options swirled in Y/N's head. Complete denial felt false and cowardly. A generic statement about privacy reeked of celebrity evasion. Ignoring everything was simply not an option with the way social media was imploding. But the last suggestion, framing their history as a friendship… it wasn't a lie, not entirely. There were a few months when friendship was the cornerstone of their relationship, before love had blossomed.

"That's… not the worst idea," she admitted cautiously. It would mean bending the truth, selectively obscuring the past, but it felt less damaging than an outright denial.

Harry seemed to relax slightly, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "It's the least harmful way forward, I think. Buys us some time while giving people a plausible explanation. And..." he paused, a hint of vulnerability in his voice, "I wouldn't hate having you back in my life, even as just a friend."

His words echoed in the silence. Y/N felt a pang of longing, a flicker of the old connection reigniting. Being his friend –a safe, public version of what they once had– was a tempting proposition. And yet…

"Yeah," she replied, the word barely a whisper. A wave of doubt washed over her. Could she do this? Could she see him, interact with him, knowing the depth of their shared history, and pretend it was only friendship?

A memory resurfaced: the stolen moments, the shared laughter, the way his touch had once felt like coming home. Could she truly bury all that and relegate him to the role of a casual acquaintance from her past?

Harry seemed to pick up on her inner turmoil. "I know this is a lot," he said softly. "And we don't have to decide anything right now. But…" a hint of hope crept into his voice, "would you be open to the idea?  Just… hanging out, as friends, and see how it feels?"

A sliver of guilt pricked her conscience. Saying 'friend' felt like a betrayal of their past, but it was also a lifeline in this storm. "Okay," she said, her voice stronger this time. "We could…try."

Unbeknownst to her, Harry felt a bittersweet relief wash over him. "Friends" – the word sliced through him, a constant reminder of the love he still harbored immensely for her. But he could see the hesitation in her eyes, the internal struggle. It was for the best –her best– he told himself firmly. 

For her safety, for his career, this was the path they had to tread, even if it meant walking over shards of his own broken heart.

The memory of their breakup played on a loop in his mind. The ache hadn't dulled over time; it had merely transformed. It was the price of his ambition, his relentless climb to stardom, and the cruel reality that success had made their love impossible to sustain. 

And yet, watching her swept into the spotlight, her name and face twisted in the cruel narratives of the online mob, ignited a fierce protectiveness within him.

He couldn't change the past, even if he wanted to with his whole being. She was his home, his whole life. She was the love of his life, and he had lost her almost a year ago.

If pretending friendship was the shield to protect her, he would wear the mask with unwavering conviction. It would hurt, every smile, every innocent touch, every conversation constrained by the invisible boundary they now had to uphold. 

But it was a pain he could endure, a pain he would gladly choose if it meant offering her a semblance of safety in the eye of this relentless storm.

"Look," Harry interrupted her internal struggle, determination in his voice, "I have to make a quick call. My team... they need to get the word out. An exclusive, a carefully worded leak… something to back our ‘long-time friends’ story."

A touch of bitterness edged his voice, but Y/N understood. It was the game they had to play, the reality of his world she could never truly escape.

Harry retreated to the kitchen of her apartment, his voice a low murmur as he spoke to his team.  Y/N sat alone in the living room, the weight of their decision pressing down on her. When he returned, his expression was unreadable, a mix of resignation and a strange hint of hope.

"All set," he said, a forced lightness in his voice. "The wheels are in motion. Tomorrow…well, tomorrow things will be different. Hopefully."

A quiet "thank you" slipped from Y/N's lips, laced with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. The weight of their decision settled on her like a heavy cloak.

Harry's gaze landed on the coffee table, where a beautiful, carefully crocheted bouquet of pink, white, and yellow flowers sat nestled atop fashion magazines. A flicker of recognition softened his eyes. "Hey," he said, his voice husky, "isn't that…"

Y/N's head snapped up, a wave of warmth and nostalgia washing over her.  "The flowers? Yeah," she admitted, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips.

"From that little market in London?" A smile bloomed on Harry's face as the memory came rushing back. "We spent ages arguing about which colors you should get."

Y/N's smile widened. "I can't believe you remember! I thought for sure you'd force me to choose the blue and purple ones."

"I almost did," Harry chuckled, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to contradict the carefully constructed distance between them. "But pink and yellow were always your colors."

Laughter bubbled up from Y/N, genuine and unexpected. 

The dam holding back memories seemed to crack, and a torrent of shared experiences flooded their minds. They reminisced about their adventures, a clumsy encounter at a local bookstore. They recounted the time they got lost on a hike in the south of France, ending up stranded with nothing but a granola bar, two green juices, and a breathtaking view.

Each shared story was a brushstroke, painting a vibrant picture of their past love. With every laugh, every playful jab, the line between friends and lovers felt increasingly blurred. The comfortable silence they'd strived for earlier seemed a distant memory, replaced by an easy flow of conversation that only years of shared history could create.

The familiarity of their interaction was both a balm and a poison. They'd fallen into an old comfortableness, one that both recognized, deep down, as a home they could no longer share.

The night went on, and the arrival of take-out momentarily broke the tension. The act of setting out plates and choosing something mindless to watch felt like a step back towards their agreed-upon boundaries.  

Neither spoke of it, the desire to cling to this stolen moment of normalcy outweighing the need to address the elephant in the room. The movie became a background hum, the plotline irrelevant compared to the unspoken narrative playing out between them.

A comfortable silence settled over them as the movie progressed. Exhaustion from the relentless stress of the past day crept in, their eyelids growing heavy.  Before they fully realized it, Harry's head dipped forward, finding a natural resting place on Y/N's shoulder. She stiffened for a fleeting moment before relaxing, a sigh escaping her lips.

Subconsciously, they shifted closer, years of shared habits overriding any pretense of detachment. As sleep stole over them, nestled together on the couch, it felt achingly, heartbreakingly like home. 

The outside world, with its prying eyes and manufactured narratives, ceased to exist. For a few fleeting hours, they were just them, finding solace in a love they couldn't bear to name.

taglist:

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @hesdebility @lomlhstyles @cookielovesbook-akie @champagneneen @tbsloneely @b-reads-things @awatt31 @walkingfromlondon @snorksquid101 @imtooindecisiveforthisshit @hannah9921 @moonstoneandmoonlight @renatavieira @harrysluvv @daphnesutton @oknothanks26 @satellitelh

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harrystyles #harry imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles series #famous!harry

[whoblewboobear]

They’re not children, they’re Teenagers that live in a world and go to a school where violence and death are highly normalized.

However, underaged doesn’t excuse you from killing your fellow party member to sabotage other students. Being a “kid” doesn’t excuse you from pulling up to your teacher’s grave with a bulldozer to A. Force her hand to find you or B. Cease to exist if she doesn’t reward you for trying to disturb your final resting place. (IMO this is the most chilling and cruel thing KipCop has done that we know of. I paused the episode to breathe and calm down from this bc holy shit?) Kipperlily is old enough to understand right and wrong. She saw the rogue teacher loop hole as a badge of honor to be proud of. She is a teenager, she is not a baby or an infant or a child. She knew exactly what she was doing.

If we’re applying real logic to these fictional teenagers, real teenagers that commit horrific acts of violence or crimes get tried as adults because they were (usually) old enough and coherent enough to understand what they were doing. They were not babies that didn’t realize what they were doing.

If you are a minor and you do something violent and awful to another person or group of people, you don’t just automatically get to go “oh boy- b-but I’m just a child!” You have to face the consequences of your actions, it’s a massive part of growing up. That’s not something that just doesn’t kick in until you’re 18.

The bad kids are pretty much the same age as the rat grinders. They probably went to the same middle and elementary schools, were taught the same things when they /were/ children. In game, they were thrown in jail for their crimes in season 1. Aelwyn was taken to high elven prison. If Penelope or Dane weren’t killed, they sure as fuck would’ve been tried or worse too.

Like- I cannot tell, nor do I care enough to start checking accounts to see if adults or teenagers are making the “they’re just kids!!!!!!!!” Posts but I feel like I know where it skews. Either way, doesn’t matter. Do better. There’s a reason why children and teenagers are not lumped under the same age and developmental umbrella. There are differences.

Pretending that they’re innocent little babies so you can continue to love your villains guilt free or dumbing them down so it’s easier to defend them is a skill issue. Love your villains and all their nasty evil behavior with your whole chest.

#we have been told MULTIPLE TIMES that Kipperlily made a calculated move or intentionally chose her wording a specific way #children don’t do that shit they will say whatever comes to mind #they’re not babies #they’re not children #they are minors yes #but they also know wtf they did/are doing #someone said the thing about not infantilizing sch**l sh***ers and yeah #like to me this is the same as babygirl-ifying serial k*llers #that rogue teacher stuff firmly put 4dogs in the rotten category like that’s so fcked #d20 fhjy #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #fhjy

[comradekatara]

Can you go a bit more in depth about your post about Sokka in the Burning Rock episode? You said that it was basically his suicide mission, which I agree with. I'd really like to hear more of your thoughts on it.

okay yeah i mean i'm sure i've covered all these points before extensively because i love weaving a tapestry of sokka's fucked up psychological landscape more than anything in the world, but every so often someone will comment on one of my posts and be like "i think you're reaching i think sokka is the paragon of mental health actually" and i'm just like um. did we not all watch the boiling rock. did we just ignore the apotheosis of sokka's entire character arc. like katara's apotheosis in "the southern raiders" is both very overt and impactful and also, arguably, subtler than sokka's, because they don't explicitly spell out the themes every five seconds, but like. if you didn't watch the boiling rock then you cannot understand sokka. and weirdly enough i also believe that zuka shippers are the biggest culprit of this despite this episode being thee zucchini episode because they somehow still have the audacity to characterize sokka as "goofy sunshine who exists to comfort zuko" when like. the entire point is that sokka is legitimately suicidal here and zuko is doing everything in his power to support him thru what is quite literally a mental breakdown. like their relationship is legitimately interesting i don't understand how people have taken that and made it deeply boring.....but i digress.

the boiling rock is quite obviously sokka at his lowest. the worst thing that could ever happen to him – fumbling a mission that was squarely his responsibility, from its conception to its execution, due to not being able to sufficiently compartmentalize his emotions, leading to the mass imprisonment of most of his comrades, including the men of his tribe whom he idolized his entire life and felt immense pressure to live up to, including his father who he is deathly afraid of disappointing (for reasons that have nothing to hakoda being malicious or neglectful in any way, fwiw), and thus being directly implicated in the failure and the harm caused by said failure – happened. sokka is someone who is especially bad at dealing with failure, because a) he is exceptionally talented, and thus has less experience dealing with failure in both minor and major ways, and thus lacks the emotional resilience developed through the process of struggle and growth that normal people (such as, incidentally, zuko) go through and b) to sokka, whose primary desire at all times is to protect and provide for others in any way he possibly can, for someone else to sacrifice themselves for him constitutes a fundamental disruption to the order. there is a perverse wrongness to kya or yue or hakoda or suki making sacrifices on their own volition, because it means that sokka has existentially failed to protect them by martyring himself. like, he somehow feels so guilty about suki being imprisoned that when azula reveals this piece of information to him, it literally distracts him from his own mission. and mind you, there's absolutely no way sokka could have known or been responsible for suki's imprisonment. but he still feels guilty nonetheless. and azula knows that, knows exactly how to twist the knife to make him break, because, well, it's honestly pretty obvious.

sokka obviously cannot retroactively save his mother or his first girlfriend, but he can save his father and his current girlfriend. in "the awakening" aang says he has to restore his honor after the guilt and shame of his failure in ba sing se (aang is also an incurable gifted kid perfectionist, btw, as is azula. posts for another time...) and sokka repeats zuko's line again in this episode, after experiencing the guilt and shame of his failure during the eclipse. the driving motivation of zuko's entire character, feeling like he has failed in some ontological way and must therefore redeem himself or die trying, is reinforced through aang and sokka's respective experiences mirroring that drive. aang goes out in a storm and nearly drowns to redeem himself in some vague, nebulous way, because he isn't thinking rationally. and likewise sokka, who usually always has a plan and always thinks things through, feels that caution and foresight is pointless, because he came up with a genuinely brilliant invasion plan and it didn't work, so clearly there's something wrong with him (just as he always suspected) and no amount of planning even matters, because he's a capital F Failure and always will be. and so he vows to save his father, as he promised him he would when they parted on the day of black sun, or die trying, because if he can't even do that then what is he good for; at least he'll die a martyr, which to him, is basically his ideal situation. because to sokka, dying as a martyr is basically the highest form of fulfilling his purpose (being needed, protecting people) and so if he dies a martyr, then maybe his catastrophic failure (that is entirely his fault and rests squarely on his shoulders btw) can be forgiven. so his plan is basically just to sacrifice himself for his father so that he can die "redeemed." very normal, rational, healthy behavior, i would say.

sidenote, i also see people claim that "the boiling rock" makes sokka look stupid because why wouldn't he take any of the insanely talented benders to a prison in a giant volcano surrounded by a boiling lake, and it's like. sokka literally admits that he's not being rational, that he doesn't think he's going to survive this, that this is not a good idea. it would go against sokka's entire modus operandi if he brought the children who he feels a deep, presiding responsibility to protect on a suicide mission that he's lowkey hoping will fail (because he not so secretly loves courting death. it's like she's the moon or something). he only lets zuko come with him because he doesn't actually care whether zuko lives or dies at this point. sokka has absolutely no faith in zuko whatsoever (and frankly, why would he, zuko has yet to actually prove himself to him. he didn't even kill combustion man; sokka did) so he has no idea that zuko is actually going to be helpful and supportive in a meaningful way. and frankly, if he had known that at the beginning, or even remotely liked zuko as a person, he probably wouldn't have caved so easily when zuko invited himself to join. if he didn't think that zuko was objectively worse than him and basically worthless as a human being, i doubt he would have let himself be so vulnerable with zuko in the first place. meanwhile zuko is eating it up bc he's like "omg he's confiding in me he's letting me help him we're basically besties" because he doesn't actually know sokka well enough to realize that sokka doesn't actually do that shit with people he remotely respects. shit like "my first girlfriend turned into the moon" and "i had a feeling this was going to be a one way trip" are simply not things that sokka would say out loud 98% of the time. the fact that he is admitting something real is not a testament to the trust he places in zuko, but rather the opposite. sokka spilling his guts (you know, for him) to his resident collateral damage, sokka bringing his lovingly crafted space sword on this mission, sokka not even confirming whether or not his father is actually there beforehand – he's simply stopped giving a fuck, he doesn't care whether or not he lives to see another day, because to him, he has nothing left to lose.

but of course, that also isn't true at all. i mean, for one thing, zuko still needs to teach aang firebending, so he does serve a pretty important function to the group, and zuko simply telling him to do hot squats in his absence does not qualify as significant tutelage. but also, even more importantly, sokka is integral to the fabric of the group. when he's gone for a day in "sokka's master" they literally all just shut down and start complaining about how much they miss him (we don't actually see any b-roll of the gaang hanging around the western air temple because the episode is simply too busy for that, so who can say whether the same thing occurs twice). sokka cannot afford to simply die just because his first plan failed, he still has a major responsibility to his friends. fucking idiot. i've said before that sokka has the emotional resilience of like. a pathetic wet newborn kitten caught in the rain. but like, come on man. i mean, as someone who has also suffered from debilitating perfectionist issues and never had to be responsible for a failed military invasion that cost my people their freedom, i do get it, but still. not his best moment. although there is something genuinely admirable about the fact that after he finds suki, he decides that saving suki is enough, and genuinely does want to succeed in his mission going forward. like his love for suki is one of the only things that consistently makes him happy and makes him forget that his greatest dream in life is to be murdered, and that's so beautiful to me.

the entire point of this episode, by the way, is that sokka is wrong. if that isn't obvious. sokka's entire worldview, that he only has value insofar as he exists to provide for others, and if he fails to protect people in any capacity, he has fundamentally failed to uphold the one reason he even exists on this earth, and thus he does not deserve to exist unless he is bearing the weight of everyone's suffering or otherwise proving his worth through sacrificing himself for others, is um. fucking stupid???? and incorrect. and stupid. the thing is, unlike zuko, sokka can't really point to any one person who taught him to see himself this way. he can't just face his father and tell him that his abuse was cruel and wrong, because hakoda is a good father who has never not supported and believed in and encouraged him, done everything in his power to protect him, loved him unconditionally. hakoda has inadvertently damaged sokka's psyche in various ways, of course, but never with any intention to hurt him. like, ozai tried to kill zuko, on multiple occasions. it's a pretty obvious indicator of the primary source of harm in his life. but sokka is equally if not more Unwell, and there's no one single figure he can blame, because his complex lies within a tangled web of what my best friend fanon calls the "massive psychoexistential complex" of the colonized subject. he is being dehumanized not through interpersonal abuse, but through the violent logic of imperialism. sokka's formative traumas inform his psychology as he understands that he only has value insofar as he is protecting the people he loves (namely his sister) from being murdered by imperialists, much like his mother did. and that logic is continually reified through the violence he is being subjected to, until he truly absorbs the belief that his life has no value on its own, that he is genuinely Less than [human] in some fundamental way. which is obviously deeply tragic, but also lowkey kind of comical because he also happens to be the specialest boy in the world, who literally did come up with multiple working escape plans at the world's most secure supermax on the fly, mind you! but whenever anyone tries to point that out, including piandao literally saying "you're the most exceptional and worthy person i've ever met in my life" sokka is just like "um. that is incorrect actually." like NO ONE should depersonalize themselves and feel that their only value lies in their ability to serve and sacrifice themselves for others, but it's especially ironic that sokka literally does not think he has any value as a human being, and yet he is also objectively exceptional. like, do you understand why i adore this character so much. do you.

anyway. the point of this episode isn't that sokka has worth because he's exceptional, either. that's lowkey the point of "sokka's master," but also a) sokka doesn't really internalize it and b) the more important part of the episode lies in how much the gaang just misses his company because they miss their neurotic control freak big brother who makes bad jokes. but even if he couldn't come up with multiple working escape plans on the fly, suki and zuko still stay by his side anyway because they care about him. they are demonstrating that they would risk their safety and possibly even their lives, in the exact way that sokka is always trying to for everyone else, for him. that sokka doesn't need to be the one who always protects everyone else, and that he isn't a failure for letting people who care about him help him and protect him. and sokka has to accept their help, because suki and zuko are simply too stubborn not to force him into letting them support him. they are standing in a literal maximum security prison in the middle of a volcano and they are still choosing to prioritize sokka's mental health and wellbeing, which is honestly crazy, but also exactly what he needs in this moment. suki has known sokka for what, 3 days maximum? yes they're soulmates but like, girl get up. and in zuko's case, "girl get up" is magnified tenfold, because he literally risked his life to go with him to the boiling rock (also largely motivated by the guilt of not being able to stage his own prison break with iroh, but still!) and let himself get imprisoned despite being the fire nation's most wanted criminal, stayed by sokka's side no matter what including getting thrown into a literal torture chamber for him, jumped across a gaping boiling chasm with no guarantee that he'd survive except for the implicit expectation that sokka would catch him on the other side. like zuko is so fucking pussywhipped and sokka didn't even value him as a human being until like halfway through their entire mission. insane.

in conclusion: "the boiling rock" is a beautiful story of the most mentally ill boy on the planet (he took first place ever since jet died rip jet forever in our hearts), and his two ride or die bitches who he met like yesterday, and also his dad, and a casual homophobe named chit sang, all working together to demonstrate to him why killing yourself is a bad idea in most cases, probably. it's also the story of the most insane dyke drama of all time, but that's for another post (of which i have of course made multiple, most recently, here). i said it's the apotheosis of sokka's arc, and by that i mean it's the most overt acknowledgement of what his fundamental issue is, and the first steps one must take in actually resolving it (namely, accepting help and support from your peers and loved ones). do i think that sokka is magically cured after returning from the boiling rock? no, probably not (in fact, because i'm somewhat sick & twisted myself, i like to imagine that once the war ends, he actually gets worse). but he does seem genuinely happier after they return. and maybe that's just bc kyoshi warrior pussy hits different, but like. he was able to rely on others for help (including mai my best friend mai) who supported him unconditionally and prevented him from simply giving up, and that's so incredibly important. that kind of support is always important, to everyone, of course, but as we've established, it's especially important to sokka specifically, at his lowest (quite possibly ever), in this situation. no one has an obligation to risk their life for someone else, but sokka is something who thinks that his purpose is to risk his life for other people (namely katara), and so for people who really have nothing to gain and everything to lose in standing by and promising not to leave without him, to actually show that they support him unconditionally is huge. if sokka has no fans then i am dead and so is suki zuko hakoda toph aang piandao iroh the mechanist etc etc etc. perfect episode <3

#suicide / #writergracethepanda #asks #analysis #sokka #sokkaxsuki #cinematic masterpiece the boiling rock part 2 #(technically i use that tag to talk about maizulee but swagever) #this post is basically just stream of consciousness unstructured rambling so i hope you find it valuable in some way... #at this point i've given up on trying to do Readings of and make Arguments about sokka #and i'm just rambling. i posted a whole fucking. ACTUAL essay about him yesterday and no one read it #but this is not that. this is. who even knows. it's certainly not an ''essay'' #my thesis statement: i love sokka so much #my body paragraphs: hes a weak willed mentally ill fucking IDIOT #just trust me ok. trust the process

[dairy-farmer]

I've thought about the consequences of Damian killing Tim and Jason killing Tim. It just occurred to me that I've never thought about the consequences of Dick killing Tim.

It's going to be very OOC obviously but imagine Dick having the worst breakdown the Bats have ever seen. Absolutely love it when Dick gets one.

Anyways, the Bats tell Dick it was an accident. But was it? Was it really? It probably was but the guilt and horror eats Dick up so much he goes insane.

Ooohh!!! Just had an idea!! You know about those stories or news of people going into shock after they discover their loved ones' death and then they go about their day like nothing happened at all??

Dick does that. No one was there to see Dick strangle his little brother to death. No one was there to save them both. No one was there to see Tim crying and using up the last of his breath just so he could tell his brother he forgives him. So no one was there when snaps out of whatever made him kill his little brother and his immediate descent into insanity.

He tells himself that, Oh, Timmy passed out. Been telling him to get some sleep before he falls asleep on patrol. He bridal carries Tim and takes him home to his Nest. He tells everyone that Timmy fell asleep on their stakeout and that he's taking him home.

He bathes him and clothes him for bed. He talks to Tim the whole time until he falls asleep next to Tim on the bed. When he wakes up the next day, he still won't register that Tim is dead. To him, Tim was just tired that's why he slept for so long. The next days, he remains in denial. He tells himself that Tim is sick or just tired and he tells the bats the same thing. He ignores the black spots forming on his brother's skin or the smell of decay that permeates the room.

Although he gets cold and it can't be very good for Timmy as well to have the room as cold as a meat freezer, he still does it although he doesn't know why. The few times Dick goes out, he buys flowers and fills Tim's room with the scent of them. Dick talks to Tim the whole time, waiting and not waiting for Tim to respond.

When the bats finally came for a visit 2 weeks later, they find their decaying bodies. Dick clutches on to his brother's body who never returned his embrace. Autopsy shows that Tim was strangled and the handprints belonged to the man who died from hypothermia cuddling the corpse of the brother he killed.

Honestly wanted this to be a scenario where Dick lives and faces consequences but this got away from me lol.

-🦆

oh accidentally killing tim would absolutely DESTROY dick psychologically 🥺

he freaked out bad when he thought he'd killed the joker but killing tim? there's no way he' be able to cope with the reality and so the only way his brain could possibly protect him would be to enter a psychosis where tim was still alive.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[yanderes-galore]

Here is my other request: it's a scenario for a platonic Pop (HTF) that wants reader as a new kid. After Cub died for good, Pop lost his sanity to grief, guilt and loneliness, to the point that nothing in his life mattered anymore. Honestly, i think he wouldn't even mind if his paws were covered in blood. Now, entering Yandere territory. Imagine if this Pop found reader, who is in their twenties. The bear meets a kind, gentle and friendly person who ends up captivating him to the point that he starts to act like a father to them. Maybe it's fate giving him another chance. Now, he promises that he will never let anything happen to his new child, even if his claws and fangs are dripping with the blood of more people. (possible scenario: Lifty and Shifty try to rob reader, only to find a broken and angry bear who has nothing left to lose. The result: two mutilated raccoons. You can put as much gore as you want).

OH BOY! Haven't touched Happy Tree Friends in a while. Time to go back to what I do best... psychotic bears.

May have spelling/grammar errors, it was no properly checked for errors.

Projections

Yandere! Pop Story

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Fear of loss, Mind break, Blood, Gore, Death, Major character death (Cub is dead, so are Lifty and Shifty), Manipulation, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Murder, Disturbing descriptions, Dubious companionship.

The death of a child is never easy for a parent. Even if you've seen it countless times... Waking up like it's some nightmare... The trauma sticks with you. Pop thought losing his son would be just another one of his nightmares....

No... life decided it would like to be cruel to him once again.

Pop first lost his wife... now he lost his dearest Cub in a freak accident. The bear still couldn't process the amount of blood on his own fur. He remembers he couldn't stop shaking... his eyes twitching as he stares at the blood on his paws.

Even as he woke up in the morning, it was all still the same. He woke up alone. No wife, no kid, just him.

Just him and the memory of holding his son... Both covered in blood.

Pop didn't think he'd recover. He was tired of these nightmares involving death. All he ever saw was blood deep in his mind and it led the bear to constant nights of suffering.

Pop doubted he'd even be a parent again. He doubted he'd even get to feel the joys of that anymore. No... he was a failure, just a bear undeserving of his own name.

However... then life decided it wanted to play nice again.

Out on a walk, Pop met you.

You were an adult who had been partaking in college. You were at the park to catch some fresh air after studying and came across Pop. Being respectful, you offer chat to the bear.

Pop was hesitant at first but eventually joined you on a bench. From there, Pop learned you were kind... gentle... and friendly. You cared to listen to what he's gone through and you two managed to become good... friends...?

Pop wonders if Cub would've grown up to be just like you if he was alive. The thought brings tears to his eyes for just a moment, yet you manage to distract him from the pain. You... You were such a sweet angel.

Perhaps you were sent to him as a second chance.

A chance to be redeemed as a parent and mentor.

Since your meeting in the park, Pop has offered himself up as a mentor for you. He became someone you could rely on as you worked through college. Part if him wonders how Cub would've done at college....

Unbeknownst to you, you became a replacement for Cub. In Pop's eyes, you were his new kid. A kid he'd do anything to protect...

Anything as long as it meant you lived a safe and happy life.

Pop never took his eyes off you. He had your number in his phone and tried to be near you at all times. He even decorated your nickname in his phone.

Pop often invited you to bowling, he offers to play Tetris with you... He even asks if you like barbecue. He wants to prove he can be a good father figure for you. He's trying his hardest to embrace this second chance he was gifted with.

Although, the true test came quicker than he thought.

Pop never liked Lifty and Shifty. The two raccoons were no good crooks who took advantage of others. He didn't think he could hate them more.

Until he caught them robbing you in an alley.

After that... all that was left was red.

Pop never saw you cower into the corner as he lunged at the two raccoons. Pop never heard himself roar as he tore into their flesh. He barely even tasted the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

The alleyway becomes painted red. The squeals and screeches of raccoons rings out before going dead silent. The smell of gore stings in your nose.

Pop's onslaught only stops when he hears sobbing. Your sobbing brings him back to reality. To him it sounds like the cry of a baby...

His baby.

Pop snaps back, spitting out chunks of flesh as he looks down. Once again... he's covered in blood... and it's not another nightmare. The taste is all real and he stares down at the mangled and gouged corpses of the raccoons who tried to rob you.

His wide bloodshot eyes snap to you. You're crying... screaming... but he saved you. Those raccoons can't hurt you anymore.

They're dead forever... just like Cub... just like his family...

But he has you now... and you have him.

"Sweetheart..." The bear finally speaks, coming closer as you try to scurry away. "It's all going to be okay... they can't hurt you anymore."

You try to run, but the bear quickly pulls you into his arms. You struggle and gag at the feeling of blood and gore in his fur. You want to go home.

"Just relax..." The bear coos. "Papa bear is here now... just calm down."

Eventually you relax yourself in an attempt to appease Pop. He smiles softly... his smile bloody. You convulsed in disgust again before Pop sighs.

"Let's get you home, baby..." Pop chirps, dragging you out of the alleyway.

"We both need to get cleaned up!"

You follow him reluctantly... Too tired and stressed to fight... although you begin to assume you aren't going to your home tonight.

#yandere happy tree friends #yandere htf #yandere pop #yandere pop the bear #platonic yandere

[canonbibuckley]

this is part 1 of my catholic guilt eddie/buddie wip! (working title) i've previously posted small snippets here and here, but this one today is the opening scene!

At the end of the night, after Tommy swoops in and saves the day, delivering Chimney to the altar by chopper, after the vows and kisses are exchanged, after people have eaten and danced and drank and celebrated—

At the end of the night, Eddie finds Buck. 

He’s standing alone at the edge of the garden, watching people dance. The party is starting to break up, the crowd thinning out. There’s something wistful and sad in Buck’s expression, and Eddie finds himself walking over to him before he even thinks about it. 

“Where’s Tommy?”

The man had been here earlier. After the heroics, he had stayed for a while. Eddie had watched as he and Buck danced together without meaning to, drawn to the two of them slow dancing to the band Maddie hired. Eddie had caught Buck’s eye over Tommy’s shoulder and lifted his glass in a toast. Buck’s nose had crinkled in disgust. How are you drinking right now? he seemed to ask, which made Eddie’s stomach roll in turn, his hangover roaring back to life. He shook his head and pointed to the gatorade bottle on a nearby table. Eddie watched as Buck’s mouth went crooked like it did when he was trying not to laugh.

Tommy had glanced over his shoulder, then. There was something in his gaze when he made eye contact with Eddie, something calculating that had Eddie looking away. 

He didn’t know what to do with the flush of embarrassment he felt. Like he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He left them to it, slinking away to where Marisol was waiting for him inside.

Now, though, he’s standing with Buck alone.

“Tommy left.”

“He had to return the chopper, huh?” Eddie tries to joke, but Buck doesn’t react. 

“He said…” He watches as Buck takes a deep breath. “Tommy and I—It’s not going to work out.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. “What? I thought you said the second date went well.”

“It did.”

“And then Tommy flew in here, delivering Chimney to save the day. I thought you’d be into all that knight in shining armor schtick.”

“I was. Am.”

“So?”

“It’s just… not going to work.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry man,” he says lamely. “I’d offer you a drink, but.” Buck doesn’t laugh. “Do you want to come over later?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Buck says, and there’s — something in it that Eddie can’t identify. 

“Maybe this weekend, then.”

“Listen,” Buck runs a hand through his hair. Eddie resists the urge to smooth it back down when it sticks up. “Tommy said something before he left, and I—I think he might be right.” There’s a pinched quirk to his lip. “He said that it wasn’t going to work out between us because it’s obvious I’m caught up in my feelings for someone else.”

There’s a whisper of a thought in the back of Eddie’s mind that fills him with dread; he refuses to think it. “Who, Natalia?”

“No.”

“Taylor, then.” It made the most sense, it had been Buck’s longest relationship. The sting of their breakup had lingered. Her betrayal of Buck’s trust had hurt them all, and even if Eddie never liked her, it’s obvious that Buck loved her. Even though the thought of her coming back into their lives made him want to vomit.

But Buck — Buck looks at him with this look in his eye, and he’s not, not sad but more regretful. He’s anxious. Eddie is suddenly, painfully aware that he doesn’t want to hear what Buck’s next words are.

Because he knows what Buck is going to say. He’s going to say it, he’s going to name the thing Eddie’s been so carefully avoiding. Their relationship has been a minefield for years, and Eddie has gotten extremely good at picking his next move carefully, but Buck is about to throw caution to the wind and take a daring step forward without watching where he places his feet.

He’s filled with so much dread in an instant, but he’s helpless to stop Buck as he’s opening his mouth to say:

“Eddie, I think I’m in love with you.”

Buck says the words, and nothing changes.

Everything changes, really, everything that matters anyway, but — it’s not the explosion of movement Eddie is expecting. It’s like the earth stands still. The party sounds fade to nothing, the twinkling lights frozen in time. Nothing moves. There’s no wind, no insects buzzing, nothing at all. 

It feels monumental, like something should be shifting. Everything should be thundering with the weight of this moment, but. Nothing. It’s like a hush has fallen instead, the world taking a pause to watch them, waiting to see what happens next, and Eddie—

Eddie takes a step back.

He doesn’t know what Buck’s expression does because he very stoutly doesn't look at him. 

“Eddie,” Buck says, but Eddie is already shaking his head and taking another step. 

“I have to, um,” he doesn’t even come up with an excuse before he’s turning his back to Buck and walking away.

#buddie #buddie wip #911 fic #spec i guess but like... not really #cge wip #i'm hoping by posting this can muster up some motivation to keep writing lmao #this wip is currently around 4k words and i'm estimating it'll be about 15k when done which is... intimidating #in an ideal world i finish it before thursday but i guess we'll see. place ur bets. #evan buckley #eddie diaz

[sillygoofyqueer]

Unnecessary Underworld Saga thing that nobody asked for ever:

The Underworld:

- Warning the others immediately, thinking of them with everything going on

- Echoes and screams are all he can think of, talking about nightmares, haunted by his choices especially in the underworld

- All the men under his command, screaming his name, guilt, echoing Poseidon's words

- The idea that all of the men that died due to Poseidon are still screaming his name in hopes that he will safe them because he always painted himself as the rock of the army

- The anger they feel for his mercy of the Cyclops that led to their deaths, permeated with the helpless, desperate confusion of why their lives weren't as important as that of the Cyclops

- The fact that Odysseus managed to get all of them through the war but they died because of the decision he made to spare the Cyclops, meaning that if he hadn't chosen mercy they would have more likely still been alive

- Poseidon was right to say ruthlessness was mercy upon yourself, because then one does not have to feel the guilt if their choice of mercy was wrong, which is how Odysseus feels

- Can't even close his eyes to escape, because they're all around him

- Thinks of the infant he had to kill, guilt eating away at him - we ourselves cannot hear the infant because it was unable to even speak, so we hear it from Odysseus' own mouth, highlighting the remorse and guilt he feels for that one specifically

- Immediately hit with Polites right after his admission, the helpless way he says his best friend's name

- The soft way the music switches with this, emphasising the remorse and grief that comes with hearing Polites' voice

- The fact that the song is Polites talking about how amazing life is when one lets themself enjoy it, and it's a soft memory, because Polites was Odysseus' best friend, and Odysseus was (in his opinion) the cause of Polite's death.

- The idea that Odysseus lost sight of his best friend's advice, too lost in the war and caring about the others around him.

- The way Odysseus whispers Polites' name after hearing his echoey song, the pain in his voice at the loss of his best friend

- The small moment of silence before one hears that voice, the word 'waiting', and the surprised recognition in Odysseus' voice because he hadn't expected to hear it in this place of death

- His mother, who was always waiting the moment he left, who he didn't know had died and probably wouldn't until he had made it back home

- The idea that his mother was adamant on not dying until she saw her son again, and the pain that Odysseus feels as he whispers about 'taking too long'

- The pain in his voice as he murmurs 'mum' because he genuinely is shocked that she's here and he cannot comprehend that he wasn't back in time to see his mother

- How his mother must have felt on her deathbed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to see her son one last time before she died

- The gentle, almost hopeful melody that represents her hope that she would see her son again after the war was over, and the pain in Odysseus because he knows that he wasn't back in time to be there for her

- The fact that he still tries to soothe his mother even though he knows that she's gone and can't hear him, trying to reach out and tell her that he is there, even if he wasn't there when it was truly important

- More guilt as he realises that he will never see his mother because he took too long and went too far, the idea of the child leaving the mother's sight and never seeing her again

- The harmonising and repeating of 'waiting' from Odysseus, because now he will be the one waiting to see her again across life, and her still waiting for her son even in death, reassuring him that she will always love him despite everything

- The pause of the ocean and the sound of the boat moving as the voice fades out, leaving Odysseus with just his thoughts, the pain in his voice as he murmurs his last ever goodbye to his mother, and she can't even hear him

- The sharp rise in screams and the way that Odysseus screams the next lines, emphasising the guilt and anguish he's feeling through this journey, can't escape

- The fact that the others harmonise, because they must be seeing their own things as well, because they have been through so much as well -> What are they seeing that Odysseus isn't?

No Longer You:

- The prophet greeting them, because he knew they were coming, sounding solemn as he sings gracefully

- Solemn as he explains that there is a world where he does help Odysseus and his crew, but that is not a world that he knows, meaning he won't help them

- The confusion and accusation in Odysseus' response of 'what'

- The prophet saying that he does see the way that Odysseus does get home, through betrayal and hardship, seeing how he dies, then ripping it all away with the fact that Odysseus is no longer that man

- Brings it back to “Keep Your Friends Close” when Odysseus tries to say that everything has changed but he is still the same, and the prophet taking away that small security he had

- The pain and anger in Odysseus' tone as he speaks of how they have suffered just to get help from the prophet, and now they're being told that he won't help them

- The prophet proclaiming of how he can see Odysseus' home bathed in the blood of the men who thought him dead (reference to the hundred suitors who stuck around Penelope during his absence) and the fact that he sees Penelope with a man (doesn't say the name of the man, describes him as having a trail of bodies, most likely Odysseus)

- The utter rage in Odysseus' voice as he cries "who", because how dare someone take the last thing he has left keeping him going and so determined to get home

- The idea that this opera is the screams finally getting to Odysseus

Monster:

- The confusion of how everything has changed highlighting that he genuinely didn't see it changing, which is why its such a shock: suffering never ceasing, everything turning against the well meaning soldiers

- The once determined Odysseus now helplessly asking how he could ever see Penelope and his son again, showing that he is at a loss of what to do after suffering so much

- Asking if he needs to change to make something happen, after all of the effort he put into trying to stay the same; the final barrier being broken

- Being surrounded by all those deaths he believes himself to be responsible for, wondering if they're there because he was so stubborn in trying not to change

- Crossing everyone's lines but his own, the guilt in that recognition and idea that he may be the greatest threat, suddenly doubting himself and his views, wondering if it was all his fault

- Literally questioning everything about himself, blaming himself and calling himself a monster even with all of the pain he himself has been through to try and keep everyone safe

- Questioning if he has been too kind to those trying to harm him, and wondering if that impacted on those he tried so valiantly to protect

- Wondering if the Cyclops ever feels guilty for his murders and mistakes, or if he killed a few of Odysseus' men to avenge his fallen friend and feel confident in himself (the supposed monster reacting better than Odysseus to avenge his friend -> “Remember Them” instead of avenging them like the Cyclops did)

- Wondering if Circe is insane for protecting her nymphs by turning men to pigs, or if she changed to be colder and less guilty just so her nymphs didn't have to and she could protect them better (The idea that Odysseus was unable to change to save his men but the supposed witch was able to to protect those she cared about)

- Wondering if Poseidon feels fear when he kills the mortals for disrespecting him, or if he does what is necessary to protect himself by killing them as a warning to those and gaining respect that he needs (The idea that Odysseus was too scared to stop dissent within the army that could have him killed, while the supposed tyrant god did what he had to to ensure that people knew the consequences of disrespecting him)

- Wondering if the soldier using a wooden horse to invade Troy was vile, or if he was willing to put his own guilt aside to save the lives of so many others (The idea that Odysseus was so determined to stick to his moral code that he let hundreds die for it, while the supposed villain was willing to put aside his own moral code to save hundreds)

- So called monsters being able to do what Odysseus should have done

- Questioning what would happen if Odysseus became one of those so called monsters, doing whatever necessary to return home to his wife and child, as well as save the lady few men that he has under his command

- Odysseus echoing Poseidon's words emphasising a change in views, finally understanding what the god meant when he told Odysseus what he did, changing a character and finally ready to do it

- Listing all those he lost because he was too scared to change because he didn't know what would happen to him if it happened, guilt permeating it because he wonders if they would still be alive if he had changed

- The idea of not seeing his wife and son being the final straw for Odysseus, what pushes him across the line and breaks the final string holding together his moral compass; he will do anything to see his family again, no matter the cost

- willing to throw away his humanity so that he can see his family and keep others from dying, even going as far as saying that he is willing to kill another infant if it means they can do this, willing to go up against any gods and monsters

- He is willing to become the monster, finally willing to change and twist himself into something that nobody will recognise after everything that has happened to him; literally throwing away his humanity, warping into something else (like Circe)

- Knowing that he must become the monster in order to go home, questioning what the fuck is wrong with becoming the monster, finally allowing himself to be a lot more selfish

- Selfishness for himself over selfishness of others ruined him, so he's saying fuck it

- The last jarring sting emphasising the change of our hero to something unpredictable and monstrous

#four being a dumbass #jorge rivera herrans #the underworld saga #epic the musical #epic the underworld saga #the underworld #no longer you #monster #odysseus #the odyssey #penelope #polites #tiresias #i really like this saga #if it wasn't clear already

[lillybearrie]

Guys- guys! I need to talk about this because omfg arararara

Ok so I was watching sherb's most recent hardcore stream, or more accurately got not even a minute in and ran to Tumblr because I have thoughts, and maybe it's because I just binged Icarus's pov post-centross death but the first like 30 seconds or so of the hardcore stream made me realize the difference between someone like hardcore!Sherbert and Icarus.

Icarus is in a deep state of self loathing and needing to grief so so many things so many people they need to process so so much but their own father has convinced them that it's pointless that it's not worth it that they should just focus on other things like helping him in his endeavors and so they don't and instead they bear the weight of this feeling of guilt and dread that they carry it around all day every day and they use it like armor because they don't have much else anymore. They pour all of the doubt they used to have into blind faith in fable's cause because they will not process and they will not grief over the fact that in only the past 4 months they have either indirectly or directly been at fault for 2 of their friends deaths and that their very existence prompted the destruction of so many peoples lives fable caused the resets for them to save their life fable destroyed reality over and over and over until the universe was delt what is likely irreparable damage all for them and honesty we really don't talk enough about the guilt they must carry for that. Icarus wakes up and even if it's been a few weeks is immediately so so tired the weight of everything going on in their life waking up with them waking up with the voices that constantly tell them what they already know the voices the yell and scream that their wrong that their hurting people again that their acting corrupted The voices that never shut up day in and day out. And they stretch because sometimes keeping a routine in times like this is key to keeping sane and yk stretching is just generally a good habit. Their alone except for the emotionally distant basterd of a previously immortal man that dares call himself a father ( we're not gonna talk about how the stuff he instilled in ick when they were little influenced a large part of how the corruption presented itself in them during season 1 because this is not that post but if it was I would have so many words you don't even know) life right now is one big distraction and when it's not they either have a break down or they're chasing the next distraction and you can see that when they wake up because you get 2 kinds of Icarus in the morning angry Icarus who will take it out on quixis or us because they need that emotional release and we're easy targets or planning Icarus who is only thinking about what they need to do today they do mindless chores or talk with co-workers or are figuring out how to complete task fable asks of them.

Hardcore!Sherbert on the other hand is for better or worse alone completely and utterly aside from the things their's not a single actual person in their life. they farm they build they vibe and weird shit happens around them sometimes and they hear voices, they wake up and look forward to the next day even when they've been asleep for months they look in the bright side "not a bad thing tho it's important to get your sleep" they are so... free in comparison with Icarus and you can hear it in the way they talk its lighter you can see it in they way they move it made me realize how little Icarus actually truly smiles nowadays hardcore!sherbert has their fair share of struggles don't get me wrong but at they end of the day they're happy they enjoy life for the most part.

And Sherb does such a good Job acting out this fundamental difference between these two variations of the same guy. I go ababababa it think it's neattt anyway go appreciate Sherbertquake56's phenomenal acting after this long ass post psychoanalizing they way their minecraft characters wake up which is a total sane and normal thing to make a Tumblr post about at 4 am mhm

#i just think they're neat #thank you for coming to my ted talk #i go abababababa #i hold them #i has so many think thoughts #so many #the psychology of Icarus Morningstar consumes my brain #send halp #icarus morningstar #hardcore minecraft #sherbertquake56 #sherbverse

[boringmarinn]

Why do you ship Sans x Frisk? As a person who ships them myself, what do you see in them, like about them? Personality traits, situations, tropes etc, anything that comes to mind, what makes you enjoy them and continue to breathe life to them?

Omg ok sooo... When I realized I was already shipping Sans and Frisk, maybe because I love the trope of the funny ironic character who has secrets and the silent protagonist who have a lot of will and power. I also have a soft spot for monster x human interactions, relationships and seeing several AUs with the two of them was what made me like it even more.

I think I liked them visually because the sprites in the game are so cute and the same size and the colors match and so on. I also see Sans more as a teenager and Frisk as well so i almost always draw and write them close. Frisk have a lot of secrets that Sans knows about and vice versa, and both have this drama about fate, about powers that can destroy, judgment and guilt, responsibility and determination i found super interesting.

I absolute love the concept of Frisk being a "more than a simple human" thing, a deity, some powerful force that can be either benevolent or dangerous when in contrast with Sans that's "just a normal boss monster" or something like that. I'm in love with Frisk being a god what just wants to live a normal life, having a normal family and a happy life and find this wish coming true with their monster family, and they find love with that one monster who has kept his eye socket on them all this time, seeing the sweetness and love that they share.

I also love the angst in the forbidden love thing, like, monster and human love being a taboo...

Frisk It's a character that ended up growing in my hand while I was drawing and creating, so to speak. I didn't want to let Frisk become that cliché of cute and lovable, so she/they transformed a little too quickly hehe. Today It's very different and that adorable cover is just a disguise for the real Frisk. Which isn't a terrible evil being either, it's just harder to comprehend and morally gray. They're determined still, to being a better person and changing the order of things and changing fate.

Sans I don't even know where and how to start because he has been my main and if not my most intense and prolonged hyperfocus. I have a lot of fun writing and drawing it in many different ways, with my favorite being this ironic, calm and funny little guy, but who carries a huge weight on his shoulders for the people he loves, a guy who worries too much about simple things and is a bit anxious and uncertain about the future.

Soo... Well i think that's a lot of reasons people like them two. They're two little guys, they go around the time and space, (like sans can teleport in space and frisk teleports in time thats so cool aaaa) them both like papyrus and toriel very much, they two are poker faced deadpan funny faces

I find them fun and even more fun is seeing other talented artists in the community doing their own interpretations of them in such unique ways. I love seeing fans making content for fans and how the characters change drastically in each person's hands, it's beautiful

#sans x frisk #underground club au #marintalks #frans #thanks for the ask!! #I really wanted to write a text like this explaining things better #I feel lighter #thanks youu!!

[salmon-bagel]

Tf2 mercenaries x Seductress! Class! Reader

Warning: nsfw content, female reader, sexism

Scout

When Scout heard that there's a woman who's a professional at seduction, he had already started plotting.

"Hello, name is Y/n L/n, but you can call me the Seductress. It's nice to meet you."

"Heya, nice to meet cha' mommy- Oh, i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy-"

Constantly hits on you. Scout believes that you're the type of girl that's 'easy', someone who will let anyone bang them regardless of who they are.

That boy isn't going to leave you alone until you let him into your pants.

Even when he's not busy trying to get in between your legs, Scout is asking you for advice on how to woo the ladies. Considering you're a professional at flirting with people.

You go back and forth on giving him good advice and bad advice. Sometimes you feel bad that he can't get a girlfriend. Then again, you think to yourself that no woman should be within three feet of Scout because of how much of a horny asshole he is.

After some time, you did grow to have a soft spot for him. Since he's bullied a lot by the other mercenaries. He can be kinda cute when he's not being a complete jerk.

Soldier

Soldier treats you like the other mercenaries. Ruthlessly bleating in your ear when you're doing something wrong.

"GIVE ME ONE HUNDRED SQUATS NOW! I WANT THAT AMERICAN ASS NICE AND PERKY BY THE TIME YOU'RE DONE!"

He wants the best from you. Regardless of your gender, he'll push you to the limit until he's proud enough to call you a warrior.

Soldier tests that you're a good seductress by making you flirt with him. It's an ego boost on his part, but he's genuinely trying to make sure you're hot enough for the enemy.

"YOU CALL THAT FLIRTING!? I'VE HEARD BETTER FLIRTING FROM A MONKEY! AT LEAST THEY CAN PUCKER THEIR LIPS BETTER UNLIKE YOURS!"

Buys you clothing that he believes would work well when you're seducing the enemies. It's always american themed swimwear or lingerie. You began to believe he's just buying that for himself for you to try.

Whenever the team successfully wins for the day, Soldier immediately rushes towards and smacks your ass as hard as he can.

"NOW THAT IS AN ASS I'M PROUD TO CALL AMERICAN!"

Sniper

Sniper believes your work is very unprofessional. Considering he believes you have to whore yourself out to the enemy team. Instead of using your actual skills.

He says he has nothing against prostitution or sex work in general. Sniper just thinks that stuff you do should be kept behind doors and not on the battlefield. He says it causes too much of a distraction. However, you claim that 'distraction' is the point. Sniper doesn't seem to get it.

You honestly could care less what he thinks. Snipers throws jars of piss for a living, and he really thinks he has the right to judge other people?

The truth is you're good at seducing people. Too good. That it distracts him from doing his own job. Sniper has a tendency to watch you through the scope of his gun.

The way your body gets all hot and sweaty from the terrible heat, oh it does something to him. Sniper has imagined licking your sweat off your tits while you degrade him for being such a filthy fuck.

You are his go-to jerk off material. The women in his porno magazines don't get him off like they used. The only way he can relieve himself now is by imagining your fat ass bouncing on his cock.

When he noticed a pair of your panties in the laundry basket, Sniper couldn't help himself to inhale the sweet scent of your panties before putting them back.

Sniper knows he's a damn hypocrite.

He slut shames you for what you do, only to get off to you afterwards. The post nut clarity consumes him with guilt and shame.

Sniper still hasn't built up the courage to apologize to you.

Heavy

Heavy is one of the very few people who treat you like an actual human being. He was raised by a single mother alongside three sisters. Heavy knows to treat a woman right. Less he wishes to face their fury.

Heavy doesn't understand why you seduce the enemy. You're supposed to shoot at the enemy, not bat your eyelashes and wink! However, after watching your work on the battlefield, he gets to more of an understanding.

"Oh, I see. You lie to enemy and lure them in like fish? HA! Very clever!"

Absolutely loves gunning down the enemy that is distracted by you.

Is one of the few men who genuinely falls for you for your personality. Heavy knows you're drop-dead gorgeous, but he knows that beneath all that beauty is a truly intelligent woman. You earned your place on the team by impressing Mann Co., with your skills instead of batting your eyelashes and begging to be a part of the team. You make his heart swoon like no other woman has.

He likes to write you poetry. It helps convey how he feels for you because he's too bashful to put it into simple words.

Heavy is not afraid of anything. Nothing, not even death itself. However, it took him a lot of courage and constant rehearsal to ask you out on a date.

He hopes to start a genuine relationship with you. Heavy doesn't want a one-night stand or be friends-with-benefits with you. He wants you to be his girlfriend and maybe possibly his wife later down the line.

Engineer

"Well, I'll be! Aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Engineer is taken aback by your good looks and sauve personality. He genuinely questions why you wanted to be a mercenary. A beautiful lady like yourself is too of high risk to get hurt!

Will always be there to help you if it gets too much for you to handle.

However, he can be very overprotective over you on the battlefield. Engineer thinks it would be safer for you to stay on the rancho relaxo than getting shot at by the enemy. As much as you'd like to not do anything on the job, Mann Co. isn't paying you to be lazy. They see everything and will tell you to get off your ass and start fighting.

You have to beg Engineer that you can do it on your own. He understands your point of view and begrudgingly lets you fight with the others. Even if it means going against his code of defending and protecting a lady when she needs it.

While putting up dispensers and sentries, he can't help to admire you from afar. Engie believes that a guy like him has no chance with a girl like you. What woman would be interested in a bald man who has a robotic hand and locks himself away in his work? No gal that's who.

Engie fantasizes about working up the courage to flirt with you and ask you out, which would eventually lead to a rather sensual night spent together. He did try to ask you out once but miserably failed. Engie kept stuttering and mispronouncing words out of nervousness while attempting to seduce you. You couldn't make out what he was trying to say. Thankfully, Demo had the heart to pull Engie out of that mess of a conversation and save him from further embarrassing himself.

So now, he just admires you from afar. Dreaming that one day he'll get to win your heart.

Spy

Surprisingly, he wants to get to know you as soon as possible. It's not every day you get to meet a lovely lady.

When he learns of your class type, oh boy, this man will make you question if you're even meant to be the Seductress.

"Mademoiselle, you are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"Do you know why they call Paris the city of love? Why don't I take you there and show you?"

"If the verb ‘to love’ didn’t exist, I would have invented it upon seeing you."

Spy leaves your entire face red and completely frozen after he's done talking to you. He's so flattering and charismatic. In comparison to the other men, he makes it seem like they're not trying at all. It isn't their fault, though, Spy is a natural at wooing the ladies.

You're surprised when Spy gifts you things that you really like. You never shared these intimate details with him before or with the other mercenaries. When you asked him how he knew what you specifically liked, Spy merely winks at you and grins. He has a way of receiving information without anyone knowing.

He has a tendency to kiss the back of your hand whenever you two are greeting each other. Spy is a gentleman and can't help himself to be sweet to a beautiful woman.

When Spy asks you out on a date, you agree to it because you have been meaning to go out. You felt like you'd go insane if you stayed in the base any longer. You put on your best dress and left with Spy into town.

After having a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, both of you give into temptation. Spy could hardly keep his hands off you when he drove you both back to the base. All your clothes came off the moment you reached his bedroom. You found it a little strange he refused to take off his mask. Oh, what the hell. He's hot and treated you to a nice date.

In the morning, you receive uncomfortable stares from the other mercenaries. Let's just say you and Spy weren't exactly quiet during your lovemaking. Unfortunately for the others, you decided Spy would become your fuck buddy.

Medic

He's been meaning to include a female subject in his experiments- I mean, he's glad to meet you!

You try your best to steer clear of him. However, on the front lines, it isn't so easy. When you're constantly getting shot at and stabbed by enemies, you'll need the Medic's help to get better.

When he sees you in action, Medic feels a new emotion that he's never felt before. Is this.. love? Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just lust.

Medic has never been infatuated with any woman. Except you. The way you lure in these pathetic men with your good looks and false promises, only to kill them afterwards- oh God, it makes him giddy. He feels like a schoolboy all over again!

Medic does routine check-ups on you. To make sure all your lady parts are in working order. In reality, this perverted fuck wants to have an excuse to grope you. Always gaslights you into believing he's not being a degenerate.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Why, of course! Breast cancer isn't something to take lightly!" He'd respond. You would understand, but after thirty minutes of him fondling your breasts, you knew what his true intentions were.

Medic writes you love letters and his dove, Archimedes, deliver them to you.

The letters start off relatively sweet. Medic writes that he views you as a Goddess, a truly ethereal being that is too perfect for this world filled with lesser mortals. And how he's the only man truly worthy for you.

Then, the letters take a complete turn the more you read it. He writes how he wishes to fulfill every filthy fantasy he's ever had with you. Oh boy, the list is long. For one, Medic wants to tie you down, gag you, and breed you like the filthy whore you are. Another consited of how he wants to fuck you on the battlefield while you're bleeding out and fingering your open wound as if it was your pussy.

You've stopped reading his letters and tend to light them on fire.

Demoman

"So, how much do you regularly charge for a quick shag?" He'd ask you before laughing his ass off.

Demo will never take you or your work seriously. Even if you politely ask him to.

He doesn't see what's so hard about showing off your tits and saying how much you love to suck cock. Demo believes you should've been a stripper if you wanted to tease men so desperately.

You frequently explain to him in detail how you help and provide for the team. You honestly can't tell if Demo deliberately forgets or because he gets drunk so often, he hardly pays attention to you while you talk.

Don't worry, though. After you've instilled the fear of women into him, he'll be gladly reminded that he shouldn't judge or ridicule a woman. If his mother were here, she'd knock some sense into him.

Demo apologizes to you, drinks, gets drunk, and apologies some more

"I'm sorry, lassie! It's just that I just get so lonely sometimes! What woman would give me, a one-eyed freak, a chance!"

He bawls on the floor, crying in front of you. You attempt to cheer him up by comforting him. Instead, you end up getting drunk with him.

Did you shag him in the heat of the moment? That's all up to you ;)

Pyro

Has no idea what you're doing to the enemy. Anything sexual you do is translated as innocent in their vision. Will never know what real seduction or sex.

Luckily, they think everything you do is nice and polite!

Regularly gives you grotesque gifts, which are usually human hearts and bones. You begrudgingly take the gifts because you know they mean well and don't wish to be disrespectful.

Pyro has a tendency to go through your closet when you leave your room. Or while you're sleeping. Either why, they steal your clothing and belongings. They pick out outfits and wigs they like along with makeup supplies. You wonder where you placed your dress and immediately begin searching for it. Maybe you left it in the laundry room. As soon as you exit your room, you see Pyro wearing your clothing over their suit. Fake eyelashes have been glued onto their eyes, and lipstick smeared all over the breathing hole.

You can't even be upset with Pyro. They're doing their best.

You let Pyro keep the dress they're wearing, considering it most likely wouldn't fit you anymore.

#tf2 #tf2 soldier #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 demoman #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 engineer #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you

[live-laugh-lenney]

Hello! Can you write a story where George or Arthur messes up and they like totally grovel over the reader? I feel like they would beg for forgiveness 😆

ohh, god lord. can you imagine the amount of grovelling?

arthur didn't mean to forget.

he was never a forgetful person; if he knew his plans were going to overrun or if he knew he'd double-booked himself, he would always make it his problem to deal with and sort out.

but with multiple video shoots happening that week that kept him busy, from a sidemen shoot to a podcast recording and then back to his own channel before he partook in a reacts video for someone else on their channel, the planned dinner with her parents had just slipped his mind.

when he walked through the front door of their flat, he was greeted with the laughter and the chatter of company. and it's in that given moment, when he sees her mum's handbag hanging on a coat hook beside her dad's coat, that he knows what he had forgotten. that he knows he messed up... big time.

rounding the corner and stepping foot in the open-plan living space of their flat, he was greeted with the biggest smile from her mum and a welcoming handshake from her dad... lessening the guilt in his belly until he was met with a fake smile and darkened eyes from yn. and the guilt only bubbled more viciously because he knew he couldn't dig himself out of this one easily.

"yn said you'd gotten stuck in a meeting with your work team, lovely. that's such a shame," her mum coos softly and she pulls arthur in for a loving hug that was tight and secure, his own arms enveloping her in a warm hug, "i know you insisted we had this dinner without you but it didn't feel the same."

he swallows back the lump in his throat and the guilt felt even worse. she lied on his behalf and made it out to be an unfortunate accident when, truly, it had simply slipped his mind. the smile on her mum's lips made him want the ground to swallow him whole. his eyes dart over to yn who occupied herself in clearing away the dirtied dessert plates from the tabletop - and he remembered her telling him that morning, before he left, how she was baking a coffee and walnut cake for them all to enjoy that night.

"we'll have to organise another one, i'm so sorry," arthur apologises before helping clean up the table, collecting the empty glasses and the cutlery that yn had left behind, "i'll cook next time since yn did this. it smells delightful."

"we had your favourite dinner, kiddo," her dad informs him and arthur looks at yn as she tries her hardest not to let her emotions get the better of her, "she's a good'un, our yn. even baked us a cake."

"she's the best," arthur smiles at her.

and he was hoping for a slight smile back in his direction to know he was off the hook and they'd talk about the whole evening later on... except he doesn't and all he sees is her jaw clench and tighten, her eyes rolling discreetly, head staying low as she piles everything up on the counter beside the sink.

they said goodbye to her parents soon after with kisses, hugs and handshakes being exchanged as well as a promise of taking an entire day off so he didn't have to miss another meal planned with them. except, deep down, he felt the guilt beginning to eat away at his insides and he knew he was minutes away from being made to feel even worse.

the door closed and before he could get his apology out, she was first to break the silence.

"don't speak to me for the night."

"yn-"

"what did i just say to you?" she sneers at him and he stares at her with sorrow in his eyes, hoping that she would come round and give him the chance to explain everything; from how he felt overworked from a week of non-stop work to how he got confused with the dates to how he wanted to make it up to her for being a forgetful muppet. "don't talk to me. i don't want to talk to you tonight."

"if you let me explain then-"

"it'll just be excuse after excuse coming out of your mouth, arthur."

he follows her around the flat like a lost puppy, scared to lose her but also wanting to plea for his forgiveness and to explain, not with the hopes of being forgiven right away but with the hopes of being understood, because he really and truly never meant to miss out on the evening with her parents. stands beside her as she washes up the dishes in the sink, watching her as if he was waiting for her orders on what she wanted him to do, mind racing as he tried to come up with the most calmest way to explain everything.

"the shoot overran. the taxi for the way home got stuck in the rush-hour traffic on its way to pick us up and we were miles from a tube station," he tries to take the plate from her hand so he could dry it and put it away but she refuses his help, placing it down on the side and swatting his hand away when he tried to pick it up, "by the time it arrived, we'd been waiting an hour for it at the site."

"doesn't help me in understanding why you never showed up. not even a text. i had to lie, arthur. to my parents!"

"i know and i'm sorry you had to do that," he places a hand on the base of her back and uses his thumb to rub gentle circles into the tee on her back, "truthfully, i did forget. okay? i forgot but-"

"i know you forgot," she huffs heavily and moves from his touch, his hand still lingering where it was once placed on her back, "please, just don't come near me. don't touch me. don't talk to me. i'm angry with you so please let me be angry with you."

"i don't want you to be," he frowns.

"then you should have thought of that before you skipped on dinner," she retorts back to him and his shoulders slump in defeat, "i'm just so upset with you."

the whole night was spent apart.

and, truth be told, they hated it.

yn hated how she still wanted to be close to him, even though he had made her feel anger. hiding in the bedroom with her laptop opposed to the television because he had taken refuge on the sofa and chosen a documentary she didn't want to intrude upon. she understood how hectic his schedule could be at times and she understood that, sometimes, he was tired and he needed reminding of things... it was a minor mistake but it had upset her and she needed her feelings to be validated and she wanted him to understand how hurt she felt.

arthur hated how he had made the mistake that lead them to being apart. sleeping on the sofa so she had all the time in the world to feel better and feel angry without him being there to add fuel to the fire. it was forgivable, what he did, but it wasn't forgettable and he knew she'd be upset for a while with the situation.

the next morning, he was awake early.

he ran to the corner shop to grab her some flowers, to grab her a card, to grab ingredients for breakfast so he could surprise her and a little goody-bag of her favourite snacks to show her just how sorry he was for what had happened. deciding on breakfast pancakes, with her favourite fruits and syrup, writing a long-winded message in the card that could explain better than he could if she was looking at him whilst he spoke it verbally.

and when she rose from her slumber, ready to forgive him, he was prepared with a table full of a surprises.

"good morning," he smiles sheepishly and she lets her eyes wander over the pile of pancakes in the middle of the table beside bowls of fruit and bottles of maple-syrup, "i made breakfast."

"you made a feast," she giggles softly, stepping towards the dining table and reaching for the card that he'd leant against a jar of nutella, "what's this?"

"it's my apology. i figured i could write it better than i could say it so," he walks towards her and sets his hands on the back of a chair, pulling it out from under the table and letting her sit down, tucking her underneath before he sat beside her, "i really am so sorry for forgetting our plans."

"it's okay," she pulls the card from the envelope and lets her eyes scan over the paragraph of his writing, her mouth soundless speaking every word he had written on the piece of paper, "i figured you were just stressed and tired. i was never going to stay angry at you."

she squeezes his knee softly and looks at him.

"i made reservations at that new london restaurant you wanted to go to, too. figured we could go with your parents," he informs her and she smiles widely, "it's on me, of course."

"arthur," she hums softly, "you need to fuck up more often."

he rolls his eyes and she giggles softly.

"i don't think so. one time, you might actually leave me and i don't know if i could cope with that," he leans over and presses a kiss to her lips, "i love you and i'm truly sorry."

"i love you too, you muppet." xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv blurbs #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv headcannons #arthurtv fics #arthur frederick #arthur frederick blurbs #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick fics #arthur frederick headcannons

[seramilla]

Emily joining charlie and vaggie happened mostly by accident, they just loved being around each other and before they knew it, they were kissing each other and planning dates for the three of them

Initially, after she and Sera fell, Emily felt like she'd lost all her purpose in life. Everything she'd ever known about Heaven had been wrong -- they didn't actually care about her, or Sera, and had replaced both of them easily. She's happy to have a family now, with Carmilla and her girls. She's exceedingly grateful for them, for giving her and Sera a home. However, getting accustomed to life in Hell has been...difficult, to say the very least. She tries to enjoy every minute spent with her family, and she does...but sometimes, Emily still wants more. It's like she's chasing something invisible, just out of her reach.

Her only other friends outside the house are Charlie and Vaggie, so Emily starts spending more and more time at the Hotel, interested in how Charlie's redemption program is going. The Hotel's been rebuilt, much to her shock and delight. And while the redemption program has officially started, it's been slow-going. The new High Seraphim that replaced Sera is just as staunchly against redeeming Sinners as Adam had been. Even though Heaven has proof it's possible, thanks to Sir Pentious, they still think he was a fluke, and a one-off. Charlie tells her, they're still fighting Heaven on every front, but they're not giving up. For Sir Pentious' sake.

Emily realizes she can help them; as someone who'd previously been on the inside, she knows each and every angel on that council. She could give them intel! Charlie and Vaggie don't want to inconvenience her at first; she hadn't fallen that long ago, Charlie says, and she must still be reeling from all the changes in her life. Emily says she's done standing by, doing nothing, and if they'd just let her help them, she promises she can be of use. Reluctantly, Charlie agrees, but only if Emily promises to take care of herself, too.

From then on, Emliy shows up to the Hazbin Hotel bright and early, every day, like it's her job. Eventually it becomes like one, and the more time she spends with Charlie and Vaggie -- inviting new souls into the facility, watching them try their best to succeed at redemption, even if they're a little skeptical at first -- the more she starts to view the two women as part of her extended family. And maybe, if she's being honest with herself, a little bit more than that...she's always been a little jealous at the relationship they have together. She wishes someday she could find that for herself; but the more time they spend together, and the more they let her in to their private lives, the more she wishes it could be with them. It's them that she wants. Not just any other denizen of Hell.

How much of an idiot is she to think that could ever work? Emily asks herself.

It starts to weigh on Emily's heart, and being the empath that she is, Charlie's the first to bring a voice to it. She tells Emily she knows something is going on. If something is bothering her, she assures Emily she can always talk to them about it. For a while, Emily denies it, and goes on as if nothing is wrong...until over the course of several days, she finally breaks mentally. She longs to tell them her feelings, and so she does, full of emotion, and wracked with guilt over making them worry. Even if nothing ever comes from it, or they turn her down...at least she can get it out in the open, and lift the weight of it off her chest.

Charlie and Vaggie are...surprisingly understanding about it. They admit they've grown fond of Emily, and care about her very much. Love her, even. They've basically done everything together, the three of them, for months now; Emily's already become an intimate part of their lives. They hadn't really thought about what it would mean to add a third to their relationship...but Emily is so honest, so devout in her feelings, about how much they mean to her now...Charlie has to admit she feels the same. Vaggie does, too, but the guilt of Heaven is still acting on her psyche, even all these years later. It might take her a little longer to understand what she's feeling, too, and process it all...but she's willing to try it. For Charlie, and for Emily's sake.

They'll wait a while to make it official, but for now, it's enough to be in each other's presence. They still have a lot of work to do on the Hotel. And in the meantime, Emily still spends time with them every day. Getting used to her feelings for them -- exploring kissing, touching, all the little intimacies of their new dynamic -- and where they fit into this crazy new life of hers in Hell. She's sure Charlie and Vaggie will help her figure it out. Her family, the ones she loves, her new world keeps expanding... Emily starts to think, maybe it's not so bad here in Hell, after all. Maybe this is where she's meant to be.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #emily hazbin hotel #vaggie #carmilla carmine #sera hazbin hotel #odette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #ask #anon #fan theories #adam hazbin hotel #sir pentious hazbin hotel #chaggily