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#and yeah it does make me sad but like its no one's fault
salsflore · 8 months
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#cw negative#its not that bad i just need 2 rant for a bit#because like why does my mother say such ridiculous shit sometimes#i went to go wash my dish and she said ah youre finally doing the dishes .. LIKE i try to but what do i do when my brother insists on doing#it everytime ! and takes it from my hands and blocks the sink and he’ll make a big fuss if i don’t let him do it !#like literally scold me and tell me to put it down or else he’ll get irritated#i lightheartedly told her that and then she was like well yeah you're still a woman then went on about how its the womans job to [ . . . ]#its really the small things like that i think. she has such outdated beliefs. i hear her saying things like its the womans job to take care#of the house and her man and etc and i'm like ok i Know i literally won't win if i try to do so much as nudge her#but then she also talks about other things that just irk the shit out of me !!! the rapture abortion etc#the one time she told me to my face if she couldve aborted me she would have. making comments on my body and just#i don't hate her. overall we have a good relationship. but its just these small things and her gross outdated beliefs and how gullible she#can be and stuff like that. she tells me i have such an easy life but i can't bear to tell her i was ever suicidal or ever self harmed#because i KNOW she'd tell me i'd go to hell if i ever tried to kill myself#i know this wholeee thing might be really intense and sad and stuff but i'm totally okay /gen i'm just! awfully irritated#thinking back on all those dumbass things she's said and done like. agh;;#its not her fault i think ive noticed a lot of filipina women (or at least the ones around me) tend to hold those beliefs so she was prolly#taught these as a child but . come on!! im so tired of the misogynistic shit she says and . ugh#cw self harm mention#cw suicide mention
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ex-vespidae · 8 months
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honestly while some memes in fandom may be funny, most of them generally end up being really not funny after a while because most of them take one aspect of a character and emphasise it to the point it becomes their whole character and its what most people think of when they think of said character.
its just very boring especially when you have a specific favourite character who you feel you see the depth in, the deep character in.
only for everyone else to reduce them to a single character trait.
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arolesbianism · 11 months
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Good news I realized that there actually is a sekai character who could fit Mase while also having their own interesting spin on his story. Bad news the parent issue still exists. Good news I found a loophole to that. Bad news the loophole was remembering Mase wasn't adopted in a very legal manner. Anyways sorry An
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emmyrosee · 9 months
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this is an actual thing that happened to me and my poor friend like, an hour ago lmao
——
It’s been raining for three weeks straight.
On the list of things that make Katsuki angry, rain is high, high up on that list, above most people and most things. Rain feels useless to Katsuki, does nothing but make things wet and gross, and he’ll never forgive the rain for drowning his plants as a kid.
Rain makes him a certain degree of agitated.
You, on the other hand?
“Baby, look! It’s raining!” You beam.
You like it. Freak.
The forecast had no called for rain, nor had his phone given any warnings, but as he paid the bill for lunch, seemingly as soon as the waiter took his card, the rain poured to godlike fury.
Phenomenal.
There’s nothing he loves more on his one Saturday off a month than sprinting through monsoon season in worn down sneakers and your feet padding behind him. There’s nothing he finds more euphoria in than opening the passenger side door for you and feeling the squish of a puddle in his shoe.
And he absolutely, completely, totally understands how on the gods’ decaying, rotten earth, why you enjoy this so much.
At this point, all Katsuki wanted to do was go home, curl up in a ball with you close by and nap all the frustration and cold rain away for the next few hours-
“LOOK OUT!” You scream, and instantly, Katsuki slams on his brakes, nearly flinging you both out the window. His face paled in panic before coming back in a complete anger.
“What the fuck was that!”
“Look!” You whimper, pointing out past the windshield with a worried pout. He squints as best as he can past the pouring rain, to no avail. You groan next to him and quickly leap out of the car to chase whatever you seem to see, making him snarl a firm ‘GET BACK HERE,’ through his teeth. You put your hands on your knees as you look down at the pavement, and he looks around for a oncoming car that you seem to ignore remembering that you’re in the middle of the goddamned road.
“Are you fucking insane?!” He snaps, opening his own car door and getting out to chase you. “You’re going to get sick, and I’m not going to take care of you.”
You pout up at him before fixing your gaze back down at the road, “you were gonna hit him.”
“Hit who?”
“The turtle,” you whine, fixing the hood of Katsuki’s sweater on your head to keep the rain off your face. With a furrowed brow, Katsuki does finally look down to see a small turtle settled in the road, blinking its slimy eyes softly as if half exasperated as Katsuki is.
He sighs in exhaustion, “you made me get out of my car, in the pouring rain, bordering fucking hail, to look at a snapping turtle?” His hands smack his face and scrub it in frustration, “this can’t be my life. There no way.”
“Can we save him?” You ask quietly, clearly very upset by the idea of this little creature being squashed.
“How do you- what- NO!” He snaps, mercilessly. You whimper softly before falling to your knees, water squishing under the bones. He’s got to admit, you do look very sad, but it’s 45 degrees outside and holy crap he’s gonna freeze out here and it’s your fault.
He hears you sigh from under his hoodie, and you reach out to touch the small turtle, only retracting your hand when it lurches out to snap at you.
“See? Why do you want to save this little shit?”
You scoff, “he’s just scared, it’s not his fault.”
“Yeah, snap at you again and I’ll give him something to be scared about.”
This, you give him a small laugh at, and he does sobsr up slightly. Your head turns up to look at him, rain hitting your face and lip still in a small pout. “Please, help me save him, Katsuki?”
Fucking god.
He growls softly, “how do you want me to save him? He’s a snapping turtle, can’t just lift his ass up.” You gnaw softly at your lip before looking back at the small turtle now receding into its shell in fright.
Then, you brighten, “just go home and get a shovel!”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not fucking going home, digging a shovel out of the garage, coming back and moving a turtle six feet to the other side of the road. You’re insane- he’ll be fucking fine, babe, let’s just go home.”
“I don’t want to leave him,” you say softly. “I’ll stay here, and if he moves, I’ll call you and walk home-“
“Are you fucking high? I’m not leaving you here, dumbass.”
Looking back up at him, you give him a cocky shrug, “guess you’re picking up the turtle with your hands.”
He could throttle you. Right here, in the middle of the road, right now.
With his patience running thin, and clothes soaked and heavy, he snarls softly before stomping back to the car, whipping out a small blanket he usually keeps for you when you fall asleep. He wraps it in his hands before stepping back over to you and the turtle, scooping the small reptile in his hands and grumbling as he walks it over to the sidewalk, placing blanket and all on the concrete. The turtle squirms and writhes, but once it’s placed on the sidewalk, it quickly scuttles into the mud and grass and far from the road. In the background, you’re cheering and clapping your wet hands, and he’s choosing to ignore you.
He grits his teeth and turns to you, “car. Now.”
“What about the blanket-“
“Car. Now.”
You’re still smiling as you round back to the passenger side of the car, and he hates knowing that you know he’s not completely mad, more talk than anything else.
Little rat.
He get into the driver side of the car and blasts the heat in a meek attempt to get warm, his temples pounding and heart more than ready to just get the hell home.
But his thoughts come to a halt when your arms toss around his shoulders over the center console and kiss all along his neck and cheek and temple.
“My hero,” you coo, pecking softly. “Saving everyone and everything for me. You’re the best ever. My handsome and brave hero.”
“Sit down,” he grumbles, trying to fight the warmth in his face. You ignore him, continuing to hum out praises and loving words as he drives you both home, knowing full well that you both know he’s weak to your pleas and requests and it’s going to be far from the last time he does something like this for you.
Freak.
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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Can we get a poly!marauders with a reader who has just lost their best friend(not dead, they’re just not friends because they’re friend started being a not nice person) and the reader starts to think its their fault/insecure reader :))) thanks
Thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 540 words
There’s an odd thing that love does when it changes. It doesn’t go away, just sits exactly where it used to in the center of your chest, and sours. Curdles. 
The ache behind your ribs feels almost familiar, but the pain has lost its pleasantness and it’s just pain. You swallow against it, but it won’t go away, even as James rubs firm circles around the area of affliction on your back. 
“Don’t torture yourself,” Remus tells you softly, looking up at you from the floor beside where you sit on the bed. “You did the best thing.”
You nod like you believe him, but your voice is leaden with doubt. “It feels so weird to go from talking to someone every day to not speaking to them at all.” 
James makes a sympathetic sound. “You said it yourself, sweetheart, they’re not the same person you wanted to talk to every day. You’re just looking out for yourself.” 
Looking out for yourself. It sounds selfish to your ears, though you know it shouldn’t. You’re used to looking out for the people you love, and now you’ve gone and left one of them behind. Your eyes flit almost unwillingly to one of the pictures taped to your wall. It’s too small to make out, but you know it well, one of the many of you and your best friend scattered about your home. What are you supposed to do with those now, throw them out? 
Sirius reads your mind (he’s scary good at that sometimes), the mattress shifting as he leans towards you. “Just because you’re not close anymore doesn’t mean you have to hate them, or forget that you were happy during some of the time you were close.” He gives you a rare sorrowful look, raw in its understanding. You feel closer to tears than you have since you’d made the decision. “I know it’s hard to move on, but it’ll be easier if you’re fair with yourself about it. You did the best you could. It’s not your job to figure their shit out for them.” 
You nod, a hot tear cresting your cheek. “You’re right,” you tell him, or maybe all of them. “I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of this.” 
“Hey,” James chides, palm pressing harder into your back like he can push the hurt right out of you. “Don’t be. It’s a big deal to you, yeah?”
You nod again, wiping your face with the heel of your hand before another tear can make it very far. 
“Then it is a big deal,” he says. Remus hums his agreement, looking at you with sad, worried eyes. “It’s okay to be sad for a while. Just so long as you’re not blaming yourself, alright?” 
You swallow, leaning your head on his shoulder as thanks. “None of you guys can ever change like that, okay?” You’re aiming for lightness, but the effect is diminished by the croakiness of your voice. “I’ll have a very hard time ditching you, self-preservation or no.” 
Sirius makes a derisive sound, playing along as he bumps your shoulder with his. “Yeah,” he scoffs, “good fucking luck with that one. Try to shake me, and I’ll latch onto your ankles.”
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fantillisdaylight · 5 months
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little moon (nh13)
nico hischier x reader
word count: 1,664 words
warnings: angst but not really. mentions of pregnancy.
summary: nico finds out about the little girl that is half him
(there will be a part two)
Nico didn't mean to really. He ended things with because it is what he thought i wanted. i knew that but the break up still hurt and i just let it happen. Nico isn't the only one at fault, i am too. i didn't take the test for a couple weeks after the break up.
seeing those two lines on all those tests was a fear i never knew i could have.
i called Nico to talk and he said he would call me back when he got out of the meeting he was in.
he never called.
he never knew of her.
he never knew of the little girl who looked exactly like her father and had the personality of her mother.
after we ended and i found out about the pregnancy, i made the decision to go to another team that had made me an offer for a physical therapist position.
that team just happened to be the Islanders. a team that was not far from the Devils.
it was always a hope that i never had her at a game when the two teams played each other.
i survived 4 years and then the moment came where someone laid eyes on her.
i should have known that Jesper Bratt would see Nico in her once he laid eyes on her.
shock set upon his face and then it changed into sadness.
it wasn't long after that moment that his girlfriend found her way out of the WAG room and into my office.
"talk to him" Nicole said to me.
i just shook my head.
"i can't. its been 5 years. she just turned 5. he will hate me." i say to her.
she just sighed and nodded. i bid her goodbye and went to set up everything i might need for the game.
i went up to the seats in the arena to check on her one last time before the game started.
she was sitting right behind our bench a couple rows up with Sydney Martin and their kids.
i didn't even see Nico notice me.
it wasn't until the first intermission that Nico came to me.
i was busy tending to Mat Barzal when he came up to me so there wasn't much that i was willing to talk about.
he asked to talk and i told him later after the game. he nodded and went back to his side of the arena.
"lovebug, you don't have to talk to him." Mat says as i try to work out the muscle strain in his arm.
i let out a deep breath.
"yeah i do. he has seen her. Bratt has probably already said something to him. he deserves to know the truth." i say to Mat.
Mat just laughs.
as i finish up his arm, he moves to put his jersey back on and says, "come on doc. you are way too good for him."
i just laugh and we head back to the bench.
the Devils ended up winning which i was a little glad about cause it meant that i wouldn't be making an already upset Nico even more upset.
i told one of my players to tell Nico that he could come to my office whenever he finished up all he had to do.
it was about 45 minutes before he came in there.
"where is she?" was the first thing he asked when he walked in.
"she is with Mat Barzal. she will not be coming in here until i know how this conversation goes. Nico just nodded.
"here is how i would like for this to work. you can ask anything but i ask that you be patient with me. some of these questions i may not want to answer tonight. i am not saying i won't answer them. i will just not tonight. so go ahead." i say to him.
"when is her birthday?" i laugh when he asks me that cause of course that is his first question. not anything that could cause a fight. just a simply question.
"february 6th." i say.
i watch as he does the math in his head.
"you didn't know until after we broke up." he said and i nodded in confirmation.
"i planned to tell you that i needed to take a test but then you ended things." i say to him.
"hey i ended things because you started to pull away from me. you slept in the other room. you were always gone. i did what i thought you wanted." he siad.
"trust me i know that. i was terrified at the idea that i could have been pregnant. i didn't know what to say or do. we had only been together a little over a year the night she was conceived. i just felt something shift with that fear and i let it change us. i forced you into that. our breakup is not only your fault, it is mine to but this conversation needs to be about her." i say to him and he nods.
"what was your pregnancy like?" he asks.
i tell him about the fairly easy pregnancy that i had. my only issues were that my milk never came in for her and that she was born a little early but was completely healthy.
i told him all about the birth since i knew that would be his next question. i had a c section and i still had the scar. he asked to see it.
i lifted my shirt just enough that he could see the scar.
his eyes trace it as he moves towards me. his hand reaches out and barely touches it but that touch of that scar was enough to send heat thorough my body.
"Nico" i breathe out and he immediately steps back.
"what is she like?" is his next question.
"she is a mini me but looks like a carbon copy of you. she is a little firecracker with a heart of pure gold. she is one of the sweetest little girls you will ever meet. she has the second most beautiful pair of brown eyes i have ever seen." i say to him.
i happen to look in his eyes as soon as i finish saying all of that and all i seeing is love in his eyes.
"you aren't mad, are you?" i ask him.
he looks at me confused and shakes his head.
"i am a little upset that you didn't tell, but i don't think that i am mad. why didn't you ever tell me?" he asks.
i sigh.
"i tried to call you when i took the tests and went to the doctor to confirm. you said you would call me back and you ever did. i texted you a couple weeks after that and you never responded or anything. i know i should have but you never contacted me again. i felt awful." i say to him."
"fuck. i am so sorry." he says and i just nod.
"tell me more about her." he says changing the subject.
i tell him all about her love for hockey. how she is here with me every day after kindergarten. i tell him how well she is doing in school and how smart she is. i tell him how she loves the guys on this team.
in that moment, we hear the giggling from next door.
he looks at me.
"she is in the room next to us with Mat. she wants to be a goalie, so he plays mini sticks with her and lets her practice." i say to him.
i move closer to him and take his hand and lead him to the door that is between my office and that room. the door has a little window that he can see through and i watch as his eyes light up at seeing his daughter play the sport he loves.
i can't help but feel my heart tighten.
"can i meet her? please?" he asks me and i nod.
"yes but let's wait a bit okay. i want you and i to get used to each other again and i want to ease her into it. she doesn't like change." i say to him and he nods.
i let him stand there and watch her some more while i pack up for the night.
i finish and i go through the door and ask Mat to take her to my car and i would be down soon.
i go back into my office to say bye to Nico and make plans to figure things out.
"come with me to get coffee one day. i will come into the city whenever we both have time that we can." he says and i nod.
he helps me get all of my stuff and offers to carry it down and i agree.
he loads it all in for me while trying to ignore little miss who is trying to figure out who is talking to her mommy.
Nico walks over and before he opens my door he asks me the question i was waiting on.
"what is her name?" he asks.
"Leni" i say to him.
he whispers "moon. that is a german name for moon."
his head looks down at his ankle.
where he has a moon tattoo that matches the one on my wrist.
i gave his daughter a name that meant something to both of us.
he lets out a little laugh and kisses my cheek as he opens the door for me.
i get in and wait till he leaves to let out the breath i was holding.
"mommy. who was that?"Leni asks me.
"you will find out soon baby. just know that he is someone you can always trust" i say to her.
i wanted to also tell her that it seems like he already loved her but i coud not get into that tonight.
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hotluncheddie · 2 months
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Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.
wc: 2.9k | cw: alcohol | rated: M | part: 1/2 | tags: pre s4 au, steve harrington centric, stobin soulmates, raised catholic steve harrington
part 2 | ao3
˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆。‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊
8:32pm January 3rd: Steve’s car
‘God stop complaining! It’s one party!’ Robin says, her exasperation at Steve finally boiling over.
Steve rolls his eyes, hard, wants to make sure she sees it. He’s stressed and uncomfortable and wants to be petty and petulant and complain because this night is going to end in him embarrassing himself somehow, he just knows it. 
Robin makes just as much of a face back at him but then her eyes are full of concern. ‘You’ve just, been so mopey lately.’ she fiddles with her fingers, bites a nail even though that was her resolution. ‘and I know you say you haven’t been, but you know that I know, that you barely got out of bed on your days off over the holidays and that makes me sad.’ Robin laments, ripping his bitchiness off like a bandaid, seeing whats underneath.  
Steve signs, defeated by her big beautiful brain. She is right, but. ‘Robbie. it was between Christmas and new year, there was nothing going on. What do you expect me to do? it’s literally time made for relaxing.’ Steves own exasperation falling away into something that just sounds tired. He’s so tired. And he hates it when she worries, he’s not, he’s still not used to it. Someone who cares, notices when he spends three days in bed because the thought of getting up when his parents are downstairs makes him want to puke. And, he loves her for it, but, sometimes it makes his skin crawl, makes him feel like he’s not good enough, not hiding well enough. Pitied. 
‘But you don’t relax. You mope. You, like, wallow.’ She pokes his arm a couple times for emphasis, but her voice is softer, still a little sad. ‘And.’ she takes a deep breath. ‘I know you don’t want to talk about it. But I also know this time of year makes you miss Nancy.’ 
‘Oh God, Rob, please.’ Steve whines, desperate now. ‘Don’t start bringing up Nancy.’ He drags a hand down his face, that is the last thing he wants to talk about. Think about. Admit anything to anyone about. 
She’s not, entirely wrong but Steve still hates hearing it. He does miss Nancy, or, well, misses her in theory. He doesn’t really miss her anymore. But, he misses being her boyfriend, a boyfriend. Being needed, and being held, as pathetic as that sounds.
‘I know. Just.’ Robin says, twisting in her seat to look at him looking at the road. ‘I just. I want you to have some fun dingus.’
Steve squeezes the steering wheel. He nods. Glancing at her and giving her enough of a smile that she knows not to feel bad. It’s really not her fault that this time of year makes him want to sink into a hole, makes him think about purgatory and black vines, what he wants for his future if both can exist.
‘It’ll just be some band kids there, a few stragglers, no one’s going to care that you’re there too.’ Robin explains. ‘Plus, if they say anything I’ll be there to defend you.’ And Steve can hear that care again, but its lighter, said through the joke. He lets his shoulders drop and Steve smiles for real. He can’t help it. 
‘Yeah, yeah.’ he says, like she isn’t his everything. Glancing away from the road a second, Steve catches her smile. Happy she’s won but happier that he’s going to at least try and have fun.
‘And, don’t forget you promised to help me with seeing if any of the girls there are even remotely available to me.’ Robin sits back normally in her seat. Talking normally again, worry about her soulmate time over. ‘Plus, who knows, your new favourite customer might just be there too.’ She says into the window, head leaning on her palm. 
‘Robin!’ Steve near shouts, scandalised that she’d bring that up. 
Robin just cackles.
‘Man, you say a guys jeans fit him nice one time and then it’s all you hear about.’ He grumbles, pretending his cheeks aren’t flaming red. He really hopes any discomfort tonight has nothing to do with that. He almost prays on it. But monsters come out of walls so he stops himself. 
Robin wriggles around in her seat, delighted by his suffering. ‘Hey! Hey! No, okay you ragged on me over Tammy! I can make fun of you for making goo goo eyes at Eddie Munson!’
9:00 January 3rd: Kitchen
Steve shivers as the heat from the house mixes with the cold evening air he just walked through. Robin at his side but she’s quickly swept up in a little crowd to say hellos. She looks for him but Steve just waves her on with a scrunch of his eyebrows and a gesture to the beer he wants to find a sport for. 
The kitchen in strewn with bottles and cups and snacks, not a total disaster but people have definitely been helping themselves. Steve is a little laser focused on getting the cans set down so he can start on one, relax his nerves a bit, so he doesn’t even notice Eddie sitting on the counter until he nearly gets kneed in the crotch. 
He takes a hasty step back and gives himself a mental shake, get out of his own head. Eddies smile looks amused, his eyes able to look so sharp. Steve swallows, grateful for Eddies silence. 
‘Hey man. You want one?’ Steve offers Eddie a beer and makes a spot for them on the side. 
Eddie takes it, nodding in thanks, their fingers don’t brush, Steve would know. ‘You looking for anything stronger tonight? like King Steve back in the day?’ Eddie asks, taking a drink, hair framing the long line of his neck.
The old name makes bile raise in his throat. Eddie didn’t mean it like that, probably, wouldn’t have said it if he’d known how much that name feels like a brand on Steves skin. Itchy and scarred. Like ‘Harrington’, like ‘Bullshit’, like something that makes people think they know him, like his body and self isn’t his own.  
Steve looks away. ’Uh, nah, I’ll stick to the classics.’ Popping the lid and taking a long gulp, going for casual, slouching against the counter.
Eddie nods like it’s no big deal. ‘I won’t make this awkward by asking you about college. I know you know I’ve seen you at family video.’ 
‘Your late back on ‘Poltergeist’.’ Steve says without thinking. Winces, why is he acting like such a loser? ‘But uh, yeah. Thanks.’ He finishes lamely. No way any colleges wanted him on his concussion grades and zero extra curricular credits. 
‘Shit, so you do actually do your job.’ Eddie shakes his head, like Steve had deeply wounded him, sarcastic and mocking, pretty little glint in his eye. But it still makes some ugly, desperate little part of Steve rear up and want to take it back, beg for forgiveness. 
Steve drowns that thought and chugs the rest of his beer. 
Someone must motion something to Eddie from one of the other rooms because he nods his head up in understanding. But before he goes he leans in closer to Steve, smirking. ‘Oh, and, don’t thank me yet. I also saw you in that sailor get up at the mall.’ 
Steve chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering like an idiot.
‘Thanks for the beer.’ Eddie says, patting him once on the shoulder before hopping off the counter and into the throws of the party.
Steve watches him go, skin of his shoulder tingling through his sweater. He feels an itch, like he’s being watched and turns his head to find robin staring at him from where she’s still by the door, talking to friends. Her smile wicked. 
Robins parting words from the car float back through his mind and make his stomach twist. ‘Lucky for you, Eddie makes goo good eyes right back.’ She’d said, quiet and teasing, and Steve hates her. her hates her. 
It’s going to be a long night. 
10:54 January 3rd: Staircase
It’s a little quieter at the front of the house.
It had been going pretty well and then someone mentioned Starcourt. A couple pairs of eyes flashed to him in recognition. Someone murmuring to another,  mentioning Hop. And then Steves eyes were prickling and his wrists were tingling and he had to excuse himself. Squeezing Robins shoulder for her not to follow. Just a minute alone to breath. Sip his drink to get the copper to wash from his lips. Get his teeth back where they’re supposed to be.  
Orange streetlights filter through the window of the front door. It catches the dust, makes it sparkle. 
He thinks about midnight mass with his parents, their one Christmas plan that he’s not allowed to get out of. Thinks about how the light filtered through the stained glass, made patches of the floor look red. Thought about the ceiling of Starcourt, the taste of red metal on his tongue as the world spun. 
Went up for communion and crossed himself. Looked up at the crucifix. Thought about how the gash that opened in Joyce’s living room was red. How somethings grow in darkness, in cracks and out of sinew. A nail bat ripping through skin. 
He looks at the drink Robin made him as a joke, its almost wine coloured, a murky, deep red. It makes Steves insides twist, she didn’t mean it, she didn’t. But blood of the lamb is making the back of his eyelids flash red and brown, flash lightning and ash floating through the air. His nose filled with mould. 
‘Yeesh what is that Harrington?’ Steve looks up, Eddie’s blocking some of the orange light, head haloed and face in shadow. 
Steve looks back into the cup, seeing it for what it is again. Remembering how her face lit up with laughter as she dumped in whatever she could find, knowing it would be awful but knowing Steve would still drink it. She made it for him, how could he not? 
He looks back up at Eddie, Steve can smell his cologne. It smells good. ‘Don’t ask, Robin made it.’ He waves his hand and tries to clear his head of red and black. The spirits mix with the beer and now his hands and feet tingle, he focuses on that, it’s nice.
Eddie eyes it warily. ’You wanna trade?’ and he holds up a beer, a different brand that the ones Steve brought, he has two, for some reason. 
Steve looks into his cup, ‘Its honestly not that bad.’ He swirls the contents around a little, there’s something floating in it. 
‘Seriously?’ Eddie asks. Steve looks up at him and his eyebrows have disappeared behind his bangs 
Steve smiles, his lips tingling. ‘No.’ and his smile grows at Eddie laugh, he has dimples.
He looks at Eddie and decides, then, to take. See what he gets given. He can confess later.
The alcohol made a couple of the awkward conversations he had tonight bearable and the couple less awkward conversations he had enjoyable. Maybe it’ll do the same for him now. Steve takes the beer and places his other drink carefully on the stair behind where he’s sitting, makes a mental note to dump it out when he moves. 
He shifts, sitting in a way he hopes looks casual, like he wasn’t just thinking about divine sacrifice. The staircase it wide and the carpet is soft, a nice place to take a break. A nice place to talk to a boy. A boy who makes his heart beat in his throat. Steve can confess later. 
‘You run Hellfire right?’ He asks, sipping his beer and cataloguing again how the orange light shines on eddies hair, over his shoulder. 
Eddie faces him fully, bobbing his head slightly to the music, Steve doesn’t recognise the song, he doesn’t think its one they play on the radio. ‘Yeah?’ 
‘Yeah. like X-men’ Steve says.  
Eddie blinks at him, but then the corners of his mouth curl and his eyelids droop and Steve feels too hot suddenly. ’Okay, I’m gonna need his majesty to explain how he knows about either of those.’ 
Swallowing, Steve goes for honest. ’Well first off you used to put new posters up every, like, two weeks man, kinda hard to ignore.’ Steve says, lifting up a finger. he paid attention, eddies doesn't need to know yet how much. But Steve paid attention. 
Eddie stays silent, looks at him, eyes roaming over his face, lip still curled. Steve feels his adams apple bob. 
‘Second, I babysit some of the dweebs who are current members.’ Steve lifts a second finger, takes another sip of beer. ‘And three, X-men is like super popular. And, like, super good.’ And Steve takes another drink, just because, just to help him be. 
Eddies lips curl into a full smile, all teeth and a little tongue. He sips his own beer, looking away from Steve then back at him a couple times, like he thinks he’ll vanish, change before his very eyes. He shakes his head. ‘What changed with you man? I never expected any of that to ever come out of your mouth, like, ever.’ And eddies sounds kind of delighted, voice musical and tinkling. 
Steve just shrugs, feels hot, Eddies voice too close to happy, words too close to praise. ‘Grew up a little, I guess.’ He crosses his arms, looks down at his shoes. 
‘Yeah? That why no more parties?’ and Eddies voice is soft, Steve can feel his body heat, his knee by eddies hip. 
‘I’m just not so big on, that much attention any more. That much noise.’ Steve says, looking back into Eddies face. Finds him staring, lips quirked in a little smile, softer, then before. Leaning his chin in his hands on the banister, leaning into Steves space.
‘So, you and Buckley, what’s that about?’ Eddies whispering now, like he knows it’s precious. The orange light kisses his cheek.
Steve clears his throat, whispers back. ’Summer job. We scooped ice cream and she, uh, scooped up my heart.’ he smiles, just from talking about her, thinking about them. 
‘Oh.’ Eddie says, drawing away just slightly, eyes hardening in a way Steve hates. 
He almost reaches out, something drastic, desperate. But he pulls back, fiddles with the tab on his can. ‘No, um. Not that kind of oh. I mean in, like, a friend way. Totally platonic oh.’ 
‘Right’ Eddie comes back, but it’s not quite the same, the moment lost. Steve feels a rosary between his knuckles. 
‘Seriously, platonic soulmates. It’s a thing.’ He tries to lighten, tries to make Eddie read his mind the way robin does. It takes a moment, but then Eddie lets his eyes drink in Steves face again. His smile unfurling, sweet and pretty and different than before. He nods once, taking a drink. Looking away, cheekbones flushed pink. 
Steve can confess later. 
Robin comes barrelling down the hall calling out for Steve. But she skids to a halt when she sees Eddie. Then her eyes find Steve and she looks at him with raised eyebrows and barely contained glee bubbling under its surface. ‘Munson.’ She greets, eyes staying on Steve. ‘You’re late back on ‘Poltergeist.’
Eddie laughs, big and delighted. ‘Hey Buckley.’ He says. ‘Looking for your boy?’ but as he said that he’s gone back to the same position, still leaning on his hands, still looking right at Steve. 
Steve feels his cheeks heat. 
‘Ugh, not my boy. You are definitely not getting out your late fee for that.’ And she shoves him out of the way to get to Steve and grab his hand. ‘They want me to play beer pong, you’re on my team.’ And she’s pulling him up and away. 
Steve cranes his neck back to give Eddie a little wave goodbye but he’s pushing off the banister, he’s following. 
He walks slow, lazy, almost sauntering. Looking right at Steve still, with that little smirk. He knows. He knows. Steve feels the eucharist on his tongue. ‘What?’ Eddie asks, innocent but his smile isn’t. ‘I wanna watch.’ And Steve just squeezes Robins hand tighter, lets her pull him into the kitchen. 
11:45 January 3rd: Kitchen
People cheer as Steve neatly sinks the ping pong ball into the final cup, Robin nearly jumping onto his back she’s so exited. The first couple games with Robin and some of her random band friends really weren't great, he drank a few times, helped Robin get through her shares, they barely won. But by the third game he basically played alone and won pretty easily. The crowd seem entertained, cheering for him and random people kept patting him on the shoulder. it’s weird, a little stale on his skin to be congratulated like that, over something like this again. But he’ll be that guy again for one night, if just to make Robin smile. 
He downs a cup someone offers him in celebration. Accepting a couple high fives from Robins band friends. Tries to not be weird, to not show how the praise makes him itch. 
Steve lifts his wrist up to wipe at his mouth. His eyes drawn to the far side of the room. Eddie is leaning against the wall, black jacket against stark white. He claps slowly once, twice, his eyes shining with something. Like Steve is something funny, something interesting. 
Steve’s hands and feet tingle, his lips a little numb. Feels warm. Doesn't think about churches or blood or monsters. Just lifts his eyebrows, sucks some of the sticky beer from the pad of his thumb, and winks. 
Eddie rolls his eyes and rolls off the wall, disappearing into another room. 
But Steve saw his smile. 
˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆。‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊
part 2 | ao3
written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. ty for putting this on always!! sorry im posting on the last day again lol xoxo
title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)
@pearynice and @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx ty for the kind words and guidance getting me unstuck with this fic <3 its alive now
lmk if you would like a tag for part two :)
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kvthgok · 9 months
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Little Spider | Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider Reader (Platonic)
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  warnings- none
Summary- Miguel doesn’t want you to go on a mission with him because its too dangerous and he doesn’t want to see you hurt.
Side note-  Not proofread soo~ sorry if theres any spelling or grammar mistakes! Also thank you for 100 notes on Bribe ♡ tbh I didn’t think it would do good 😭💀
“I told you no this mission is to dangerous. I DON’T need a KID getting hurt.” He said in a cold tone. Miguel acted as a father figure to you ever since you joined the Spider Society. He can’t help but see and treat you as a daughter and feel that he’s responsible for you.
“But if you just listen-“ I got cut off
“I don’t want to hear it.” He says while raising his voice. “I already told you no, you’re gonna sit this one out.”
“I always sit them out!” I argued
“And i’m telling you this one is different.” He says in a serious tone “I can’t even put it into words. Just this time please, sit it out.”
“You say that All. The. Time.” I complained
“Because I’m worried about you!” He snaps, before taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Your not invincible, I’ve seen your combat records and there’s been close calls. You can’t avoid it forever.” You stayed silent.
As he speaks his tone is stern yet loving if that makes sense he wants her to understand how truly dangerous it is. “Im not gonna stand here and wait for the day you go off on a mission and don’t come back..”
His expression softens as he begins to let his true feelings show, “This is why I want you to sit this one out.” His voice is soft and tender as he says this. He knows she wants to be included but he also wants to protect his Little Spider.
Their gaze meets for a few seconds, the look on his face shows the love he’s felt for her all this time. “Please, please for once listen to me.”
"Can I just watch from afar-“
“No.” He says in quite possibly the hardest tone yet, he doesn’t want to sound harsh but he’s not letting up on this one.
We started arguing back for a little again then he left you there back at the HQ alone in his office like he always does, leaving to the mission that was currently happening. She was there for quite a while, left to think to herself for the next few hours.
As time passes she begins to feel the emptiness of the room, it was quite and somber and she began to realize how right Miguel was. She shouldn't have argued with him, but it was to late now he was already gone. With Miguel gone she did her best to help around the HQ, taking care of various tasks.
While she worked she couldn't help but feel bad for how she acted towards Miguel. He only wanted what was best for her, maybe she was being a little to eager to jump into dangerous missions..
-Skip some time later-
As she continued to work around the HQ she finally heard Miguel return, his voice echoed and it was clear he sounded upset. She continued with her tasks as she heard him open the office door, she just hoped he wasn't mad at her.
As he walks in he goes straight to his chair, he takes a seat and lets out a sigh as if he was annoyed or just tired. You couldn't help but feel guilty. As you see him sit in his chair he looks up and sees you "Oh. I see your helping around." He says in a annoyed tone.
 "Yeah." you say looking down and going back to work, this only made you feel more guilty. You did your best to help but the silence that's going on is making it hard to feel comfortable. You knew he was mad, but it hurts knowing that it was your fault.
Miguel looks over at you once more, this time he's not annoyed anymore. In fact... there's a hint of sadness to his expression. He sighs once more before speaking "You know, maybe I was being a little harsh." he says rather quietly, his tone isn't quite the same anymore. “No, no, no its fine Miguel I understand that your just trying to keep me safe.” You said in a low voice
His tone changes to a quiet whisper "I just care about you okay? Thats the whole reason why I didn't want you going out." he says while letting out another sigh. "I don't want you thinking it's because I don't trust you. Its because I just can't bare to think of anything happening to you..." He looks at you with a expression that shows how much he means his words. Another long moment of silence passes by as Miguel just stares at you, he looks at you before giving you a small slight smile. 
Even though he knows you still feels bad about the whole thing he can't help but feel like its his responsibility to keep you safe. He doesn't know if your truly understand why he was mad in the first place but he was just glad that you were safe.
After this Miguel stands up and looks towards the desk, "I'm gonna go make myself something to eat." he says while stretching his arms. You knew he was still a little mad for what had happened a few hours ago.
But for some reason Miguel just couldn’t seem to stay mad at you, no way can he be mad at his sweet little spider.
A/n - The next one shot is gonna kinda be longer cuz like I got a little too carried away 🙏
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whyse7vn · 6 months
Text
BREAKING POINT -
[ ot7 x reader ]
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this is like super short pls forgive me tan twitter tl for context
tan on twitter!!!
8 participants - 8 online
———————————
tae: yoongi pls unblock me on twitter
yoongi: kill yourself
tae: i tried guys why doesn’t he love me 💔
y/n: that was a pathetic try
tae: guess what
y/n: what?
tae: ligma man..
y/n: ligma??
jimin: no way 😭
jk: baby…
namjoon: really
y/n: WHAT???
jin: i’m with her
wtf you guys on about??
hobi: this is a sad day
tae: LIGMA FUCKING BALLS BITCH
y/n: drown
jimin: ur fault tbh
hobi: real
y/n: leave me alone
jin: look you made her upset idiots
y/n: IM NOT UPSET
hobi: cheer up baby ❤️
namjoon: it’s okay tae upsets me all the time
y/n: im fine
hobi: bts song
jk: i know bts
tae: me 2
y/n: i want to stab you with a pencil
tae: watch out namjoon
namjoon: she is definitely talking to you
tae: proof?
hobi: bts?
jimin: i’m gonna bts outta you shut the fuck up
hobi: aw man :/
jk: bts?
jin: beat the shit
tae: beat MY shit
jk: woah
yoongi: he actually needs to kill himself wow
tae: @y/n u 2
y/n: LEAVE ME ALONE
jimin: she’s mad
y/n: I’M NOT MAD
jin: y/n are you still with that scoups guy?
namjoon: didn’t we just find out they we’re together like a week ago?
jk: WE DID????
jin: she moves on fast tho so idk
y/n: NO I DONT????
jimin: yoongi mingyu jk scoups mark wonho minho san all of us
there’s more hold on i’m thinking
hobi: all of us?
jk: say sike…
y/n: ARE YOU FUCKING SICK???????
jin: woah major slut alertttttt
namjoon: shut up
y/n: ONLY LIKE 4 OF THOSE NAMES ARE RIGHT
jk: what
y/n: AND IVE ONLY FUCKED 2 OF THEM SO KILL YOURSELF LEAVE ME ALONE
yoongi: she’s a grown woman
y/n: RIGHT
sorry i’m hot as fuck and pull bitches it’s not my fault
jin: u mid
y/n: ur 30
jin: ok please leave me alone i’m sorry
tae: my body count is also 2
jimin: -2
tae: ummmm?
jk: i’ve killed no one
i could of but don’t worry
namjoon: ??
hobi: fyi she did not deny being with scoups
jimin: TRUE
jk: NO
y/n: i deny it
jimin: too late we know
jin: SLUT
sorry
pls i’m sorry i didn’t mean it pls don’t be mean to me
please oh my god i’m sorry it slipped out
love u
please
y/n: THIS IS NOT FEMINISM
namjoon: it’s okay if ur with him
jk: NO ITS NOT STOP SAYING THAT WHATS UR FUCKING ISSUE STUPID STUPID STUPID
y/n: IM NOT
tae: who have you fucked
yoongi: are you stupid?
tae: no i’m curious
hobi: OH IM CURIOUS YEAH
wow i love shinee
y/n can you please start talking to minho again and then get married to him so i can be at his wedding and we can be forever connected
jk: SHUT UR MOUTH
y/n: you guys know so much about my relationship life it actually makes me want to throw up
jimin: ur easy to stalk
hobi: she’s fucked jk and yoongi
tae: and me
jin: in dreams doesn’t count
yoongi: lol
tae: LOL AWAY FROM ME YOU NASTY BITCH
U THINK UR WINNING BUT UR FUCKING NOT
WHEN ME AND Y/N GET MARRIED IT WILL BE ME KIM TAEHYUNG WHO LOLS IN UR FUCKING FACE
YOU RAT
yoongi: L
tae: no
yoongi: O
tae: YOU FUCKING STOP RIGJT NOW MIN YOONGI
yoongi: L
tae: 6pm seoul south korea apartment block C floor 7 door number 279 a ak47 a man a mask and a fucking dream
namjoon: wow ok that’s great!!
nice vogue shoot btw jungkook!
jk: I WILL NOT FUCK U GO AWAY
namjoon: oh my fucking god
hobi: scottish pride!!
jimin: ???
hobi: was he not wearing a kilt?
jimin: a what?
hobi: killing myself
jin: why they put you in that dirty ass bathroom omg?
tae: dirty shoot for a dirty man
jin: ?
tae: what?
jin: just a bit crazy coming from u
y/n: tae you need to shower
tae: you in love
ha
fucking bitch
jin: do you fuck her or fight her damn?
jimin: right he’s pissing me off
tae: can you leave me alone i’m going through a lot rn
jk: dick
tae: ??
jk: a lot of dick
yoongi: lmao
namjoon: he likes men?
hobi: ewwwwwwwwwwww
jimin: homophobia?????????
jk: yes so he’s going through them
cuz he does not like y/n
yoongi: you say this like every 2 weeks
jk: because it is true
y/n: thank god
jk: no thank men
hobi: thx men
jin: so it’s not jimin?
jimin: what??
tae: i’ve never touched another man let alone sleep with one
hobi: amen
y/n: now that is just not true
namjoon: who cares
tae: I DO
hobi: no one will ever say those words to you
jin: i will
tae: fr 🥲?
jin: LOL
tae: ok kys
and fuck that bitch y/n
yoongi: have
tae left “tan on twitter”
hobi: cuteness overload ^_^
y/n: what crawled up his ass today tf
jk: hi do you need me do you want me do you love me
namjoon: can we just talk about life or like
jin: let me guess trees?
jimin: weed?
jk: OH MY GOD NAMJOON WANTS TO TALK ABOUT WEED
hobi: life is a downward spiral noting matters we are all slowly dying the government hates us money is worthless drugs are all around our water is running out
jk: where is it running out of
let’s catch it
y/n: tae was being super weird right?
hobi: super shy
namjoom: what’s new
hobi: new hair
namjoon: stop
hobi: forgive me master
namjoon: i’m at my breaking point
jimin: breaking bad
jin: drugs?
jimin: it all links back to namjoon…
jk: omgggggg namjoon is this true……..
namjoon: LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE
—-
pls lmk if you like the twitter concept idk if i’m feeling her yet but if you guys are i will do more idk trying to be different 🙈
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periludic · 3 months
Note
Hello! can you write a sick mc in step 1 of Ol2 and tamarack and qiu just stay by them to keep them company and treat them with treats while their sick I'd like for them to be crushes
" SICK "
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📌 Pairing: Step 1 Qiu/Tamarack x GN!MC (Separate)
Qiu "Autumn" Lin
Knew you were sick before you yourself knew
Definitely not because he stares at you for long periods of time. haha.
Checks up on you the day after to see if you really are sick
And surprise surprise! You were!
He kindly asks your Mom if he can check up on you in your room, and of course, asked you if he was welcomed inside your personal space as well
Qiu sits down on the floor next to your bed and stays there for a while, asking about how you're feeling and if he could get you anything at all
After a while though, he stands up with the promise of coming back, before dashing out of the door, leaving you confused
But really, he just went back home to ask his parents if he can stay at your place for the afternoon and got a few snacks to share!!
And if you wanted anything you couldn't get in your house, he made a quick trip to town to get whatever it is you wanted
Watches over you like a hawk
If you dare make one teeny tiny pained noise this stinker goes into full panic mode
"Are you okay? You're not dying are you? I am sorry!"
Meanwhile you stare at him in confusion because why is he apologizing over you being sick as if it was his fault??
Speaks in a softer voice just in case your head hurts, and because he's really worried about you
Would not let you lift a finger, he's spoiling you today and there's nothing you can do about it
Well that's not entirely true, if you get sad or angry about him doting on you too much he would let you do whatever you please
But he's staying by your side no matter what
If you're upset over the fact that you're sick, he spends hours sitting below you on the floor next to your bed trying to stay as close as he could without making you feel uncomfortable telling you funny adventures he, Baxter and Darren had
"Qiu. Get away from me you'll get sick" "But :("
He definitely gets sick a day or so after, but does he regret it? No.
He'll go through anything for you <3
Tamarack Baumann
This girl is prepared
Came over to your house ready with medicine, soup her grandma made, a wet cloth, etc. etc.
Your Mom lets her come inside your room (with your permission of course) because for one, she's a busy woman. And two, Tamarack seems to know what she's doing
Frowns so hard when she sees you sick and uncomfortable
She cares about you so much it actually hurts her whenever you're in any kind of pain
Tamarack was in a state of panic when she first saw you miserable in your bed
"(Name)!! How are you feeling? You're not hurting anywhere are you?" "I feel like I am dying" "Nooooooo!!!!"
Will not leave your side unless you beg her to. What if you fall and explode while she's gone? What if you start hurting and cry?? WHAT IF YOU DIE AND SHE'S NOT THERE???
Yeah. It gets intense with her.
Compared to Qiu's soft doting she's in full on in doctor mode
Whenever you cough or sneeze a lil she's on her feet ready to get you anything
"What? What is it? Medicine? Water??"
You'll have to periodically remind her that you're not in that much pain and that getting sick is normal
Is ready to fan you herself if it starts getting really uncomfortable and hot because lets face it you probably don't have a working AC in step 1 yet
Will sing praises and reassurances if you get scared
The only time she leaves you is when you ask her to get something from downstairs or another room
Other than that she'd glue herself onto you if she could
You actually recover quickly after her visit, its honestly a miracle
Her Omi and Opa wouldn't mind if she stays over at your house until late into the evening
Even when you're feeling better, she'll still stay close to you
Would be offended if anyone tries to separate the both of you
You can't take her away from her precious neighbor!!!
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bunglegaydogs · 6 months
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i have just had a fucking devastating thought
it was just the thought that if dazai and chuuya were ever falling from a building or something, or say if something moriarty the patriot style happened, the only two options (once it was too late) for chuuya would be to save himself, or to save neither. there is literally no option to save dazai. in a mtp style situation, yeah, thats different.
but if they were both falling from a building/high place and were just falling?
chuuya literally only has two options.
on a surface level, only two.
save himself, or save nobody.
its like... symbolism for the two of them and this is devastating for two reasons: one, it means that chuuya is so selfless and loyal to a fault that his fight or flight responses are "me or everyone/nobody" like... does that make sense? he can die with dazai, or let dazai die alone. i dont know. I DONT KNOW. theres so much to unpack. and two: for dazai, it means that hes going to drag everyone down with him. nobody can even try to save him because its impossible to. its a reminder of how much of a "burden" dazai and his ability are (hes not lmao just what he probably thinks is what im saying) your only options are to fall with him, or leave him be, and dazais thought process would ofc be thinking that everyone would choose the latter, conflicting with chuuyas loyalty and compassionate nature to choose the former.
its such a dumb thought i know and i cant articulate it very well but i just thought about it and i got so sad lmao
its a bit incoherent, and oh boy do i have so much more to say on this topic now that its in my brain
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correctthroam · 3 months
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I read THROAM for the first time in ~5 years. Here's what I have to say.
Volume I: There was so many characters I forgot about when going into the fic. Pete, Jac, Spencers family. I cant believe I forgot them. Pete will always be a fave because everyone hates him and it makes me laugh. The first volume was always my 2nd favorite, I think it still is. overall, the storyline isn't complicated and I like that. Ryan is such an asshole so I dont feel bad for him one bit in any of the fic. Also, I used to say that the bus crash was Brendons fault (I was 13, okay?) But Ryan was just an unstable motherfucker who truly should not be trusted to drive a vehicle of any kind.
Volume II: holy shit. I hate volume two. Not saying the writing is bad but Jesus Christ, Ryan is an asshole. bro literally stalked Brendon after he ran into him at that party like what? I had messaged a friend after finishing volume 2, saying "I'm a really nice person I never wanna make people feel sad, let alone make a whole fictional story about someone being severely depressed and unstable whilst chasing a boy then fucking his bf at the end???" and I think that perfectly sums up how I feel (and always felt) about volume two. other than the fact that I used to say that it was Brendons fault. (I was 13. THIRTEEN) it wasn't his fault. Some parts were, yeah, but it's hard to pinpoint everything that happened on one person. at the end of the day, its a good story I just Hate it (does that make sense) I love it but I hate it? it remains my least favorite purely for the pain it put me through.
Volume III: I love this volume. I always have. Sisky is amazing, we all love Sisky. I will say the iconic song/album references/jokes made me cringe a bit, though. Im not exactly sure what about this fic I always liked so much, I guess you can really see Ryans character growth and finally not be as much as a miserable fuck (he's still unstable dw) Since Ryan is less insufferable, it makes the volume more enjoyable. I like that Spencer and Ryan became friends again, I think it makes the book more enjoyable and tbh I think Spencer rly tied vol 3 together, if he wasn't part of it it would lowk suck. overall, best volume cant wait to host the throam tour where we go to hotel Chelsea then machias.
final thoughts: if I thought throam was 100% good when I was 13, Id say now that I think throam is about 85% good now. (does that make sense pt 2) this fic has sent me back into being 13 and I have been blasting some pretty. odd. (im listening to it rn as im typing this) and listening to this album just makes my life feel more simple. still a solid fic, I think it would be an amazing published book. and I think we can all agree that it would be amazing to see THROAM movies (in our dreams)
Thanks for reading lol
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mamawasatesttube · 1 year
Note
Do you have any Timkon fic recs w/o sexual content?
i have a couple sure!! you may have already seen them, bc i don't tend to read too much fic before i get tired of digging, but. here we are!
fill in the blanks by mindshelter !! literally SOOO cute ohmygod. temporary amnesiac tim falls in love with his own fiancé at first sight. did i mention its cute? its so cute. i cannot get enough. more kon appreciation of this nature it makes me smile SO hard every time i reread iti!!!
myself and this body they stuck me in by misspickman my friend misspickman <3 NB GENDERQUEER KON RIGHTS i cant stress this enough. its perfection. there's a lot of friendship content and also the kind of weight that sticks with you in the best way. i would eat this fic with a spoon if i could and it'd taste like honey.
stay for breakfast and also forever by ididloveyou_once :) it's hurt/comfort. kon does not have a good time with mind control ever. but its okay tim is there to hug him about it! its the good kush what can i say i Love hurt/comfort
freefall by sage/lemontongues - OKAY SO i didnt actually realize this til now but this is both a friendfic AND one of the first timkon fics i ever read <333 before i ever got into comics HAHA one of my besties sent it to me a couple years ago like THIS WAS SO GOOD and she's right. it was. the hurt/comfort. the implicit trust. the tenderness. YEAH
under the starlight by procrastinationfairy <33 so this list may have ended up being 60% friendfic but listen. its not my fault all my friends are so cool sexy and talented. this is an epistolary fic about nonbinary kon coming out to tim and it made my heart so tender
and also, finally, if you don't mind a shameless self-plug: my own fic! straight on 'til morning, a tale of kon vs. self-discovery, growing up, and the woes therein. mostly focused on the many-years-belated processing of a lot of his trauma from his early life, but also he has fun with his friends and loves his family so it's not ALL sad :)
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hopelesslys-world · 8 months
Text
50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH.4
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TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.
EXTRAS: Vomiting, alcohol !
Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )
I apologize for any grammar mistakes...
Y/L/N: Your Last Name
Y/N/N: Your Nickname
Y/M/N: Your Middle Name
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*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*
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𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I speed towards Bella's car getting inside as if someone was chasing me.
What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome incoming tears make my eyes water.
Why am I crying? I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. I hide my face in my hands and wipe a stray tear off my cheek.
That is so embarrassing. I embarrassed myself out there thinking that we were going to kiss. I'm so stupid, being sad of something I never had. How ridiculous. Something that never was – my dashed hopes, dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.
I have never been on the receiving end of rejection. Okay… so I was always one of the last to be picked for basketball or volleyball – but I understood that – running and doing something else at the same time like bouncing or throwing a ball is not my thing. I am a serious liability in any sporting field.
Romantically, though, I’ve never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity – I’m too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would be admirers. There was that guy in my chemistry class who liked me, but no one has ever sparked my interest – no one except Christian damn Grey.
Maybe I should be kinder to the likes of Paul Clayton and José Rodriguez, though I’m sure neither of them have been found like me inside their car in a dark parking lot.
I should go home, do my studying. Forget about him and stop all this self-pitying, crap!!!
I take a deep, steadying breath and start the engine. I will not think of him again. I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my exams.
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Bella is sitting at the dining table at her laptop when I arrive. Her welcoming smile fades when she sees me.
“Y/N/N what’s wrong?”
Oh no… not the Isabella Clark Inquisition. I shake my head at her in a back-off now Bella way – but I might as well be dealing with a blind, deaf mute.
“You’ve been crying,” she has an exceptional gift for stating the damned obvious sometimes. “What did that bastard do to you?” she growls, and her face – jeez, she’s scary.
“Nothing Bella.” That’s actually the problem. The thought brings a wry smile to my face.
“Then why have you been crying? You never cry,” she says, her voice softening. She stands, her green eyes brimming with concern. She puts her arms around me and hugs me.
I need to say something just to get her to back off. “I was nearly knocked over by a cyclist.” It’s the best that I can do, but it distracts her momentarily from… him.
“Jeez Y/N/N – are you okay? Were you hurt?” She holds me at arm’s length and does a quick visual check-up on me.
“No. Christian saved me,” I whisper. “But I was quite shaken.”
“I’m not surprised. How was coffee? I know you hate coffee.”
“I had tea. It was fine, nothing to report really. I don’t know why he asked me.”
“He likes you Y/N/N.” She drops her arms.
“Not anymore. I won’t be seeing him again.” Yes, I manage to sound matter of fact.
“Oh?”
Shit. She’s intrigued. I head into the kitchen so that she can’t see my face.
“Yeah… he’s a little out of my league Bella,” I say as dryly as I can manage.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh Bella, it’s obvious.” I whirl round and face her as she stands in the kitchen doorway.
“Not to me,” she says. “Okay, he’s got more money than you, but then he has more money than most people in America!”
“Bella he’s– ” I shrug.
“Y/N! For heaven’s sake – how many times must I tell you? You’re a total babe,” she interrupts me. She’s off on this tirade again.
“Bella, please. I need to study.” I cut her short. She frowns.
“Do you want to see the article? It’s finished. José took some great pictures.”
Do I need a visual reminder of the beautiful Christian I-don’t-want-you Grey?
“Sure,” I magic a smile on to my face and stroll over to the laptop. And there he is, staring at me in black and white, staring at me and finding me lacking.
I pretend to read the article, all the time meeting his steady gray gaze, searching the photo for some clue as to why he’s not the man for me – his own words to me. And it’s suddenly, blindingly obvious. He’s too gloriously good-looking. We are poles apart and from two very different worlds. His words make sense. He’s not the man for me.
This is what he meant, and it makes his rejection easier to accept… almost. I can live with this. I understand.
“Very good Bella,” I manage. “I’m going to study.” I am not going to think about him again for now, I vow to myself, and opening my revision notes, I start to read.
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It’s only when I’m in bed, trying to sleep, that I allow my thoughts to drift through my strange morning. I keep coming back to the ‘I don’t do the girlfriend thing’ quote, and I’m angry that I didn’t pounce on this information sooner, when I was in his arms mentally begging him with every fiber of my being to kiss me. He’d said it there and then. He didn’t want me as a girlfriend. I turn on to my side.
Idly, I wonder if perhaps he’s celibate? I close my eyes and begin to drift. Maybe he’s saving himself.
Well not for you, my sleepy subconscious has a final swipe at me before unleashing itself on my dreams.
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I put my pen down. Finished. My final exam is over. I feel the Cheshire cat grin spread over my face.
It’s Friday, and we'll be celebrating tonight, really celebrating. I might even get drunk! I’ve never been drunk before. I glance across the sports hall at Bella, and she’s still scribbling furiously, five minutes to the end. This is it, the end of my academic career.
I shall never have to sit in rows of anxious, isolated students again. Inside I’m doing graceful cartwheels around my head, knowing full well that’s the only place I can do graceful cartwheels.
Bella stops writing and puts her pen down. She glances across at me, and I catch her sly smile too.
We head back to our apartment together in her Mercedes, refusing to discuss our final paper. Bella is more concerned about what she’s going to wear to the bar this evening. I am busily fishing around in my purse for my keys.
“Y/N/N, there’s a package for you.” Bella is standing on the steps up to the front door holding a brown paper parcel. Odd. I haven’t ordered anything from Amazon recently. Bella gives me the parcel and takes my keys to open the front door.
It’s addressed to Miss Y/N Y/L/N. There’s no sender’s address or name. Perhaps it’s from my mom or Ray.
“It’s probably from my mom or dad.”
“Open it!” Bella is excited as she heads into the kitchen for our ‘Exams are finished celebration Champagne’.
I open the parcel, and inside I find a half leather box containing three seemingly identical old cloth-covered books in mint condition and a plain white card. Written on one side, in black ink in neat cursive handwriting, is:
Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me?
Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these trisks...
I recognize the quote from Tess. I am stunned by the irony as I’ve just spent three hours writing about the novels of Thomas Hardy in my final examination. Perhaps there is no irony… perhaps it’s deliberate.
I inspect the books closely, three volumes of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I open the front cover. Written in an old typeface on the front plate is:
‘London: Jack R. Osgood, McIlvaine and Co., 1891.’
Holy fuck - they are first editions. They must be worth a fortune, and I know immediately who’s sent them. Bella is at my shoulder gazing at the books. She picks up the card.
“First Editions,” I whisper.
“No way...” Bella’s eyes are wide with disbelief. “Grey?”
I nod. “Can’t think of anyone else.”
“What does this card mean?”
“I have no idea. I think it’s a warning – honestly he keeps warning me off. I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m beating his door down.” I frown.
“I know you don’t want to talk about him, Y/N/N, but he’s seriously into you. Warnings or no.”
I have not let myself dwell on Christian Grey for the past week. Okay…I know it will take an eternity to expunge the feel of his arms around me and his wonderful fragrance from my brain. Why has he sent me this?
He told me that I wasn’t for him.
“I’ve found one Tess first edition for sale in New York at $14,000. But yours looks in much better condition. They must have cost more.” Bella is consulting her good friend Google.
“This quote – Tess says it to her mother after Alec D’Urberville has had his wicked way with her.”
“I know,” muses Bella. “What is he trying to say?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t accept these from him. I’ll send them back with an equally baffling quote from some obscure part of the book.”
“The bit where Angel Clare says fuck off?” Bella asks with a completely straight face.
“Yes, that bit.” I giggle. I love Bella, she’s so loyal and supportive. I repack the books and leave them on the dining table. She hands me a glass of champagne.
“To the end of exams and our new life in Seattle,” she grins.
“To the end of exams, our new life in Seattle, and excellent results.” We clink glasses and drink.
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The bar is loud and hectic, full of soon to be graduates out to get trashed. José joins us. He won’t graduate for another year, but he’s in the mood to party and gets us into the spirit of our newfound freedom by buying a pitcher of margaritas for us all.
As I down my fifth, I know this is not a good idea on top of the champagne.
“So what now Y/N/N?” José shouts at me over the noise.
“Bella and I are moving to Seattle. Her parents have bought a condo there for her.”
“But you’ll be back for my show, right?”
“Of course, José, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smile, and he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close.
“It means a lot to me that you’ll be there Y/N/N,” he whispers in my ear. “Another margarita?”
“José Luis Rodriguez – are you trying to get me drunk? Because I think it’s working.” I giggle. “I think I’d better have a beer. I’ll go get us a pitcher.”
“More drinks, Y/N/N!” Bella bellows.
Bella has the constitution of an ox. She’s got her arm draped over Levi, one of our fellow English students and her usual photographer on her student newspaper. He’s given up taking photos of the drunkenness that surrounds him. He only has eyes for her. She’s in a stunning red dress that hugs her curves perfectly with black high heels and curls that reach her back elegantly.
Me, I’m in my usual skirt outfit but Bella made it more 'club like' and I love it, I feel very comfortable.
I move out of José’s hold and get up from our table. Whoa. Head spin. I have to grab the back of the chair. Tequila based cocktails are not a good idea.
I make my way to the bar and decide that I should visit the restroom while I am on my feet.
Good thinking, Y/N. I stagger off through the crowd. Of course, there’s a line, but at least it’s quiet and cool in the corridor. I reach for my cell phone to relieve the boredom of waiting in line.
Hmm… Who did I last call? Was it José? Before that a number I don’t recognize. Oh yes. Grey, I think this is his number. I giggle. I have no idea what the time is, maybe I’ll wake him. Perhaps he can tell me why he sent me those books and the crypticmessage.
If he wants me to stay away, he should leave me alone. I suppress a drunken grin and hit the automatic re-dial. He answers on the second ring. “Y/N?” He’s surprised to hear from me. Well, frankly, I’m surprised to ring him.
Then my befuddled brain registers… how does he know it’s me? “Why did you send me the books?” I slur at him.
“Y/N, are you okay? You sound strange.” His voice is filled with concern.
“I’m not the strange one, you are,” I accuse. My courage fuelled by alcohol.
“Y/N, have you been drinking?”
“What’s it to you?”
“I’m...curious. Where are you?”
“In a bar.”
“Which bar?” He sounds exasperated.
“A bar in Portland.”
“How are you getting home?”
“I’ll find a way.” This conversation is not going how I expected.
“Which bar are you in?”
“Why did you send me the books, Christian?”
“Y/N, where are you, tell me now.” His tone is so, so dictatorial, his usual control freak.
He's a freak. The thought makes me laugh.“You’re so… domineering,” I giggle.
“Where the fuck are you?” He asked angrily.
Christian Grey is swearing at me. I giggle again. “I’m in Portland… s’a long way from Seattle s'a long way from your bizarre ass.”
“Where in Portland?”
“Goodnight, Christian.”
“Y/N!”
I hang up. Ha! Though he didn’t tell me about the books. I frown. Mission not accomplished. I am really quite drunk - my head swims uncomfortably as I shuffle with the line. Well, the object of the exercise was to get drunk. I have succeeded. This is what it’s like – probably not an experience to be repeated.
The line has moved, and it’s now my turn. I stare blankly at the poster on the back of the toilet door that extols the virtues of safe sex.
Fuck, did I just call Christian Grey? Shit. My phone rings and it makes me jump. I yelp in surprise. “Hi,” I bleat timidly in to the phone. I hadn’t reckoned on this.
“I’m coming to get you,” he says and hangs up. Only Christian Grey could sound so calm and so threatening at the same time.
What the hell. I pull my skirt up. My heart is thumping. Coming to get me?
Oh no. I’m going to be sick… no… I’m fine. Hang on. He’s just messing with my head. I didn’t tell him where I was. He can’t find me here. Besides, it will take him hours to get here from Seattle, and we’ll be long gone by then. I wash my hands and check my face in the mirror.
I look flushed and slightly unfocused. Hmm… tequila.
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*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*
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The bar is crowded, full of students determined to have a good time. There’s some indie crap thumping over the sound system and the dance floor is crowded with heaving bodies.
It makes me feel old.
She’s here somewhere.
Elliot has followed me in through the front door. “Do you see her?” he shouts over the noise.
Scanning the room, I spot Isabella Clark. She’s with a group of friends, all of them men, sitting in a booth. There’s no sign of Y/N, but the table is littered with shot glasses and tumblers of beer.
Well, let’s see if Miss Clark is as loyal to her friend as Y/N is to her. She looks at me in surprise when we arrive at her table.
“Isabella,” I say by way of greeting, and she interrupts me before I can ask her Y/N’s whereabouts.
“Christian, what a surprise to see you here,” she shouts above the noise. The three guys at the table regard Elliot and me with hostile wariness.
“I was in the neighborhood.”
“And who’s this?” She smiles rather too brightly at Elliot, interrupting me again. What an exasperating woman.
“This is my brother Elliot. Elliot, Isabella Clark. Where’s Y/N?”
Her smile broadens at Elliot, and I’m surprised by his answering grin.
“I think she went outside for some fresh air, she responds, but she doesn’t look at me. She has eyes only for Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em. Well, it’s her funeral.
“Outside? Where?” I shout.
“Oh. That way.” She points to double doors at the far end of the bar.
Pushing through the throng, I make my way to the door, leaving the three disgruntled men and Clark and Elliot engaged in a grin-off.
Through the double doors there is a line for the ladies’ washroom, and beyond that a door that’s open to the outside. It’s at the back of the bar. Ironically, it leads to the parking lot where Elliot and I have just been.
Walking outside, I find myself in a gathering space adjacent to the parking lot—a hangout flanked by raised flowerbeds, where a few people are smoking, drinking, chatting. Making out. I spot her.
Fucking hell. She’s with the photographer, I think, though it’s difficult to tell in the dim light. She’s in his arms, but she seems to be twisting away from him. He mutters something to her, which I don’t hear, and kisses her, along her jaw.
“José, no,” she says, and then it’s clear. She’s trying to push him off. She doesn’t want this.
For a moment I want to rip his head off. With my hands fisted at my side I march up to them. “I think the lady said no.” My voice carries, cold and sinister, in the relative quiet, while I struggle to contain my anger.
He releases Y/N and she squints at me with a dazed, drunken expression.
“Grey,” he says, his voice terse, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to smash the disappointment off his face.
Y/N heaves, then buckles over and vomits on the ground.
Oh, shit!
“Ugh—Dios mío, Y/N/N!” José leaps out of the way in disgust.
Fucking idiot.
Ignoring him, I grab her hair and hold it out of the way as she continues to throw up everything she’s had this evening. It’s with some annoyance that I note she doesn’t appear to have eaten. With my arm around her shoulders I lead her away from the curious onlookers toward one of the flowerbeds.
“If you’re going to throw up again, do it here. I’ll hold you.” It’s darker here. She can puke in peace. She vomits again and again, her hands on the brick. It’s pitiful. Once her stomach is empty, she continues to retch, long dry heaves.
Boy, she’s got it bad.
Finally her body relaxes and I think she’s finished. Releasing her, I give her my handkerchief, which by some miracle I have in the inside pocket of my jacket.
Thank you, Mrs. Jones.
Wiping her mouth, she turns and rests against the bricks, avoiding eye contact because she’s ashamed and embarrassed. And yet I’m so pleased to see her. Gone is my fury at the photographer. I’m delighted to be standing in the parking lot of a student bar in Portland with Miss Y/N Y/L/N.
She puts her head in her hands, cringes, then peeks up at me, still mortified. Turning to the door, she glares over my shoulder. I assume it’s at her “friend.”
“I’ll, um, see you inside,” José says, but I don’t turn to stare him down, and to my favour, she ignores him, too, returning her eyes to mine.
“I’m sorry,” she says finally, while her fingers twist the soft linen.
Okay, let’s have some fun.
“What are you sorry for, Y/N?”
“The phone call, mainly. Being sick. The list goes on,” she mumbles.
“We’ve all been here, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you.” Why is it such fun to tease this young woman? “It’s about knowing your limits, Y/N. I mean, I’m all for pushing limits, but really this is beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?”
Perhaps she has a problem with alcohol. The thought is worrying, and I consider whether I should call my mother for a referral to a detox clinic.
Y/N frowns for a moment, as if angry, that little v forming between her brows, and I suppress the urge to kiss it. But when she speaks she sounds contrite.
“No,” she says. “I’ve never been drunk before and right now I have no desire to ever be again.” She looks up at me, her eyes unfocused, and she sways a little. She might pass out, so without giving it a thought I scoop her up into my arms.
She’s surprisingly light. Too light. The thought irks me. No wonder she’s drunk.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“I need to tell Bella,” she says, as her head rests on my shoulder.
“My brother can tell her.”
“What?”
“My brother Elliot is talking to Miss Clark”
“Oh?”
“He was with me when you called.”
“In Seattle?”
“No, I’m staying at The Heathman.” And my wild-goose chase has paid off.
“How did you find me?”
“I tracked your cell phone, Y/N.” I head toward the car. I want to drive her home. “Do you have a jacket or a purse?”
“Er…yes, I came with both. Christian, please, I need to tell Bella. She’ll worry.”
I stop and bite my tongue. Clark wasn’t worried about her being out here with the overamorous photographer. Rodriguez. That’s his name. What kind of friend is she? The lights from the bar illuminate her anxious face.
As much as it pains me, I put her down and agree to take her inside. Holding hands, we walk back into the bar, stopping at Bella’s table. One of the young men is still sitting there, looking annoyed and abandoned.
“Where’s Bella?” Y/N shouts above the noise.
“Dancing,” the guy says, his dark eyes staring at the dance floor. She collects her leather black coat and purse and, reaching out, she unexpectedly clutches my arm.
I freeze.
Shit.
My heart rate catapults into overdrive as the darkness surfaces, stretching and tightening its claws around my throat.
“She’s on the dance floor,” she shouts, her words tickling my ear, distracting me from my fear. And suddenly the darkness disappears and the pounding in my heart ceases.
What?
I roll my eyes to hide my confusion and take her to the bar, order a large glass of water, and pass it to her.
“Drink.”
Eyeing me over the glass, she takes a tentative sip.
“All of it,” I command. I’m hoping this will be enough damage control to avoid one hell of a hangover tomorrow.
What might have happened to her if I hadn’t intervened? My mood sinks.
And I think of what just happened to me. Her touch. My reaction.
My mood plummets further.
Y/N sways a little as she’s drinking, so I steady her with a hand on her shoulder. I like the connection—me touching her.
She finishes her drink, and retrieving the glass, I place it on the bar. Okay. She wants to talk to her so-called friend. I survey the crowded dance floor, uneasy at the thought of all those bodies pressing in on me as we fight our way through.
Steeling myself, I grab her hand and lead her toward the dance floor. She hesitates, but if she wants to talk to her friend, there’s only one way; she’s going to have to dance with me. Once Elliot gets his groove on, there’s no stopping him; so much for his quiet night in.
With a tug, she’s in my arms.
This I can handle. When I know she’s going to touch me, it’s okay. I can deal, especially since I’m wearing my jacket. I weave us through the crowd to where Elliot and Bella are making a spectacle of themselves.
Still dancing, Elliot leans toward me in mid-strut when we’re beside him and sizes us up with a look of incredulity.
“I’m taking Y/N home. Tell Bella,” I shout in his ear.
He nods and pulls Clark into his arms.
Right. Let me take Miss Drunk Bookworm home, but for some reason she seems reluctant to go. She’s watching Clark with concern. When we’re off the dance floor she looks back at Bella, then at me, swaying and a little dazed.
“Fuck—” By some miracle I catch her as she passes out in the middle of the bar. I’m tempted to haul her over my shoulder, but we’d be too conspicuous, so I pick her up once more, cradling her against my chest, and take her outside to the car.
“Christ,” I mutter as I fish the key out of my jeans and hold her at the same time. Amazingly, I manage to get her into the front seat and strap her in.
“Y/N.” I give her a little shake, because she’s worryingly quiet. “Y/N!”
She mumbles something incoherent and I know she’s still conscious. I know I should take her home, but it’s a long drive to Vancouver, and I don’t know if she’ll be sick again. I don’t relish the idea of my Audi reeking of vomit. The smell emanating from her clothes is already noticeable.
I head to The Heathman, telling myself that I’m doing this for her sake.
Yeah, tell yourself that, Grey.
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She sleeps in my arms as we travel up in the elevator from the garage. I need to get her out of her skirt and her shoes. The stale stench of vomit pervades the space. I’d really like to give her a bath, but that would be stepping beyond the bounds of propriety.
And this isn’t?
In my suite, I drop her purse on the sofa, then carry her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. She mumbles once more but doesn’t wake. Briskly I remove her shoes and put them in the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. Then I unzip her skirt and pull it off stuffing the piece of clothing in the laundry bag.
She falls back on the bed, splayed out like a starfish, all pale arms and legs, and for a moment I picture those legs wrapped around my waist as her wrists are bound to my Saint Andrew’s cross.
I sit her up and she opens her eyes. “Hello, Y/N,” I whisper, as I remove her jacket slowly and without her cooperation.
“Grey. Kiss,” she mutters.
“Yes, sweetheart.” I ease her down onto the bed. She closes her eyes again and rolls onto her side, but this time huddles into a ball, looking small and vulnerable. I pull the covers over her and plant a kiss in her hair.
Now that her filthy clothes have gone, a trace of her scent has reappeared. Apples, fall, fresh, delicious…Y/N. Her lips are parted, eyelashes fanning out over pale cheeks, and her skin looks flawless. One more touch is all I allow myself as I stroke her cheek with the back of my index finger.
“Sleep well,” I murmur, and then head into the living room to complete the laundry list. When it’s done, I place the offending bag outside my suite so the contents will be collected and laundered.
Before I check my e-mails I text Welch, asking him to see if José Rodriguez has any police records. I’m curious. I want to know if he preys on drunk young women. Then I address the issue of clothes for Miss Y/L/N: I send a quick e-mail to Taylor.
•••
From: Christian Grey
RE: Miss Anastasia Steele
Date: May 20, 2023 23:46
To: J B Taylor.
——
Can you please find the following items for Miss Steele and have them delivered to my usual room before 10:00.
Skirt: Black Size 4
Shirt: White. Pretty. Size 4
Boots: Black Size 7
Socks: Size 7
Lingerie: Underwear—Size Small. Bra—Estimate 36C
Thank you.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
•••
Once it’s disappeared from my outbox, I text Elliot.
Y/N is with me. If you’re still with Bella, tell her.
He texts by return.
Will do. Hope you get laid. You soooo need it. ;)
His response makes me snort.
I so do, Elliot. I so do.
I open my work e-mail and begin to read.
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Nearly two hours later, I come to bed. It’s just after 1:45. She’s fast asleep and hasn’t moved from where I left her. I strip, pull on my pajama pants and a T-shirt, and climb in beside her. She’s comatose; it’s unlikely she’s going to thrash around and touch me.
I hesitate for a moment as the darkness swells within me, but it doesn’t surface and I know it’s because I’m watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest and I’m breathing in sync with her.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. For seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know, I watch her. And while she sleeps I survey every beautiful inch of her lovely face. Her dark lashes fluttering while she sleeps, her lips slightly parted so I glimpse her even white teeth.
She mutters something unintelligible and her tongue darts out and licks her lips. It’s arousing, very arousing. Finally I fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.
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[ series masterlist ]
DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3
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mugentakeda · 1 month
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Do you have any fic recs similar to your take on iroh? Treating him as an actual character with some fucked up issues is SO much more fun!! I love him and I am chewing on your art
YES!!!!!!!! everytime i post about shithead iroh moments i get nervous someones gonna think i dont like him or im anti iroh or whatever but i genuinely honest to god think his less than savory past and personality traits ON TOP of the things about him that make him so beloved by the fandom makes him better. like yeah i love all parent characters that are just big softies but big softie parents that also are kinda (very much ) fucked up are even better. to ME. and i dont usually judge how good characters are on the basis of how good of a parent they are which is oddly something that a Lot of people do but. U wont find any of that on this blog which is also why i loveeeee ursa.
BUT I DIGRESS! here is my absolute favorite. its unfinished but what is there is still very loaded. digs in deep to iroh. gets pretty nitty gritty with it too. it changed how i see iroh and specifically season 1 iroh. it balances his b1 behavior with his later revealed status as a grand lotus MASTERFULLY, and puts his manipulative and cunning side on full display. might even make you mad at him a little bit
this one is less of a take on iroh as like. a general and a grand lotus and the war side of him and more of him as a father. its short and sad and i adore all of this authors fics involving iroh. it still shines a good light on the consequences of irohs own actions though because lu ten dying was literally his fault. the selfishness and the manic desperation that bleeds through this monologue is kind of scary but also is tragically beautiful.
ALSO these specific parts near the end of salvage were REALLY good. i feel like iroh is definitely the kind of guy that does a whole lot of backhanded comments as a way of patronizing without probably even realizing he does it?? i think a lot of people forget that what makes iroh being “changed” different from zuko is that zuko is still a child, and iroh is like. in his fifties or something. a whole LIFETIME of probably doing everything zuko did pre-redemption but far worse, and plenty times over. take how young azula is when ozai let her loose into the world into account. take the fact that iroh was already a general by the time he was sieging bss into account. im not gonna compare and contrast crimes here but i am trying to put weight onto how long iroh has been in the game. nasty shit like this is bound to still creep in the shadows of irohs mind and will definitely slip out sometimes.
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and i know i keep bringing up that one unfinished super gnarly au fic that features azulon putting zuko into irohs care following irohs return to ba sing se (after ozai disgraced himself in requesting azulon give ozai the throne since iroh lost his only heir). hopefully one day ill find it because i hate to think the author deleted it or whatever . but out of all the fics that dig into irohs crimes id say this one does it the deepest while also SOMEHOW managing to make iroh sympathetic just by how sheerly pathetic and miserable he is the whole time. ONE DAY THOUGH. i pray that i will find it. because i have like over 200 pages of history on ao3 and i cant remember when exactly i read the fic so . searching for it has been kind of difficult but if i find it trust i will post it lol
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blackjack-15 · 3 months
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the way nat is treated is sooo sad and predictable. she doesn't always (present day) handle things well, but...with an upbringing like this? and good on her for pouring the liquor down the drain and bringing paper towels
"oh you're gonna make sprite?" "yeah, i'm gonna make sprite" that's carmy in a nutshell. push on a wall, it becomes a bridge.
"holding everything in and then letting it out inappropriately" you've reduced the bear to its most basic components!
he made sprite! something from nearly nothing, that's carmy. and no one even thanks him to his face. he didn't have to do it, he was doing 6 other things at once, and he still made sprite for someone who was having a hard time
also richie's ex wife reminds me strongly of mrs. berzatto. just saying.
"why isn't someone listening to me?" "i'm listening" "WHY IS NO ONE LISTENING TO ME" and this is mrs berzatto at a 4/5? we're gonna see her at a 6+ before long
i hate to armchair-diagnose, but there's pretty obviously a personality disorder present here in the Matriarch of the Berzatto clan. histrionic personality disorder is my immediate thought, but could be something else.
"no one's f//kin with you why would you think that?" gee i wonder.
"we ran into the love of your life" "i don't have a love of my life" 1) they're 100% talking about claire 2) carmy baby. you're so right you don't yet.
wow i hate mikey/richie right now. but! this adds a whole new dimension to carmy re: claire! because claire is tied to mikey, to what mikey 'wanted' for carmy, and that makes this whole thing come full circle, doesn't it?
"what did you do. what did you do." maybe christmas in copenhagen would have been a good idea.
carmy's absolute distaste for this whole 'conversation' (the glasses came off? the body is banging? really guys? you're being disgusting) is beautiful. carmy's got many, many vices and makes a lot of mistakes, but this is Not something he puts up with
"i don't understand why you would do this. why are you like this" oh carmy honey.
"i'm not in love with her, that's what i'm saying, where did you guys get that?"
THERE IT IS.
there's the reason for showing how carmy reacts when someone wants something from him, why the awful phone conversation with claire has her making him go from not wanting to give his number to saying "i want you to have my number". we have to see how carmy goes from saying no -- the truth -- to saying yes -- a lie -- after pressure is put on him. because this is where it starts.
claire represents what others want for carmy. normalcy, a chance -- his "only" chance -- to be with someone deemed societally Valuable. to not be an "other", to fit in, to have something "Good" that everyone thinks is good. carmy/claire is nauseating, but it's supposed to be. people spend so much time on screen telling us how Good claire is, when the show itself doesn't back it up. she's a figure of myth, a representation of the expectations others set on carmy and that he bows to, not a character. full stop.
and wow this is legitimately hard to watch. carmy attempts to set boundary, boundary is ignored. rinse, repeat.
they think carmy's in love with her -- this is a man in his, what, late 20s at this point? -- because he used to draw her in high school? the tenuous is getting more tenuous my Gosh.
"carm. this is a good thing." oh and no it really really isn't.
okay nice moment here for richie. does he think carmy is weird? yeah. does he still kinda brag about his sprite-making abilities? yeah
okay, ex wife is the worst. the boy makes you sprite b/c you don't feel good and there's none in the house and you ask why they'd 'punish' a nice girl like claire by hooking carmy up with her?
richie is adorable with his daughter and despite everything going wrong in his life (both his fault and not) is a really good dad ("do you think that she'll like us?" is such a soft question). i am really, really glad he's divorced. i want him to find happiness -- i don't know what that would look like for him just yet, but.
"we just have to not be like our parents" the other distillation of the bear!
richie trying to get a better job for his kid is really sweet. mikey telling the bill murray story in the background? hilarious
we're further breaking down the Mythos of Mikey -- he's introduced as a perfect, tragic figure, and we've spent a season and a half showing his foibles...which are Many.
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