#i don't think people realize i'm not joking when i say i hate my writing idk

[insertsickusername13]

Promises Made on October 30th

title is the concept and summary bc i thought of the title before the concept of the fic. whoops.

warnings: implied abuse, alcohol is referenced and consumed but not in like a bad way (most of the time), no smut but there's one scene where they kiss and i describe it in a gross way for some reason and sex is talked about once or twice

word count: 3.6k

 Jake spent most nights alone. He had friends, sure, and plans most evenings. Dates with girls, parties to attend, and though he’d like to spend the rest of his life swimming in a fuzzy unconsciousness where he was only just aware of his existence, half passed out on someone else’s couch, dawn always sunk her rosy fingers into the horizon and one hostess or another was forced to give Jake a pitying look as they showed him to the door.

 My parents will be home soon, some would say, and Jake would leave with a bitter laugh. If he was lucky, he’d get to stay and help clean up. On the best days, he could sometimes sneak in a quick fuck with whatever girl was still around. 

 Most nights, though, he left before anyone had the chance to kick him out. He spent hours sitting on the floor of his living room, staring at the front door and waiting for them to come home. If he pretended hard enough, the pictures on the walls weren’t the most terrifying thing he had ever faced. Photographs from family weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, and award ceremonies all taunted him. His parents’ faces stared at him, scrutinizing every move as he trembled, cried, and broke down. Every sob echoed back like a bullet ricocheted off metal. He was sitting expressionless in the middle of a war zone watching soldiers (read: dreams) and civilians (read: his future) bleed out and die on the floor around him. 

 Despite holding onto the childish hope that things would get better, that the future held something more than loneliness for Jake Dillinger, there was still the undeniable truth that it wouldn’t. Jake was doomed. Life wasn’t going to be anything special for him—he was going to suffer and he was going to have to get used to it young. He hated his parents, himself, his girlfriend, his life, and his house. He wasn’t going to kill himself, he wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t going to wake up every morning and fight to be okay. He was resigned to his sadness.

 Until Rich Goranski knocked on his door at 10 pm on September 17th and showed Jake that silence wasn’t the only thing that could exist in his house. 

 He didn’t wait for an invitation inside. The second Jake had opened the door, Rich pushed past him and into the kitchen. He wasn’t quite fast enough for Jake to miss the bruises on his cheekbones or the way he favored his right leg over his left. Jake cataloged the injuries and promised himself he’d ask about them later. 

 “The hell are you doing here?” Jake called after him, his tone tipping over the border between annoyed and concerned.

 Rich shrugged and settled on the kitchen counter. He seemed to only be slightly aware of Jake’s presence, more focused on the empty floor in front of him. His eyes were glassy in a way that suggested he’d already been crying and was done with it. Jake studied him, searching for his next move in Rich’s body language. If Rich looked like he was going to cry again, Jake could probably swoop in for a hug without being called gay. If he didn’t, Jake would probably offer a drink. Or a movie?

 “Stop looking at me like that,” Rich snapped. He was looking up at Jake, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed together, almost like he was challenging him. Jake flinched back, unsure of what he’d done to deserve such treatment. 

 “Like what?”

 “Like I’m a fucking math problem or some shit. I’m not. Just fucking talk to me.”

 Jake considered him. Though it was invisible to Rich, Jake could still see bullets and spears flying through the air as people screamed out war cries and fought with everything in them for land or oil or their families. Metaphorical war didn’t end just because a friend had shown up. Jake was always surrounded by imagined violence; always on the verge of fleeing. 

 “I don’t know what you want from me,” Jake answered. His voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of a bomb going off in the distance.

 Rich forced out a bitter laugh and hid his face behind his hands. 

 “God, fuck, me either. I don’t know why I’m here. Just fucking distract me. Do whatever the hell you want.”

 Jake found his parents’ record player in the living room and hit play. It was the only thing he could think to do—why, he wasn’t sure. But Rich had said anything, so Jake did anything. Some song by The Police (god, the irony) drifted through the room, a byproduct of his parents’ last anniversary together in the house. Jake had long since stopped caring—it didn’t even hurt to know they’d danced in this room, laughed in this room, raised him in this room. 

 He turned back to Rich and was met with a small, borderline amused, “What the hell, Jake?”

 “You said I could do whatever I wanted.”

 “This is what you want?”

 “I dunno.”

 Rich laughed as he hopped off the counter. The sound was so pure Jake watched the blood-soaked carpets go from crimson to pink as the rain washed away the worst of it. A white flag waved in the distance. Rich swayed to the music mindlessly, still favoring his right leg. 

 “Dancing?” Jake asked, the single word enough to get across his message. Rich nodded as he took Jake’s hand in his own and pulled him in close. 

 “Why not? We’ve got nothing better to do.”

 So Jake learned about music and dancing and how small Rich could feel when Jake had his hands on his hips, fingers digging into his skin just to convince himself Rich was real instead of some fantasy made up as a coping mechanism for his parents’ leering memory. Silence wasn’t the worst thing to exist. Jake knew how to make it go away.

 Still, that did nothing to dispel the obvious and ever-painful emptiness. Jake could play record after record as loud as he wanted until he had every song memorized and could sing it from any room in the house, but it was still empty.

He stumbled into the kitchen, drunk and disoriented, his feet dragging across the tile floor. Each step was like wading through the ocean, sea monsters grabbing at his ankles and trying to drag him under. He gripped counters and walls to keep himself afloat just long enough for Rich to knock on his door and saunter in, his presence a song in and of itself. 

 Jake followed his every movement with every sense: his ears, listening to the sound of Rich’s footsteps. Taste: kissing the corner of Rich’s mouth—never his lips, Jake wasn’t gay, but close enough that he could convince himself there was something like love brewing between them. Touch: holding onto Rich’s hand, his clothes, his hair, latching onto the warmth of him to convince himself the air conditioner wasn’t too cold or the empty spaces too vacant. 

 Sight: looking at Rich and only Rich. If he only looked at his hazel eyes and dyed-red hair and, on the days when Jake was weak and scared, his lips, then the shadows in the corners of the room lightened into something manageable and the photos on the walls that functioned as the closest thing Jake had to family faded into… well, photos. Just photos. 

 Rich helped, but he wasn’t enough to make the emptiness go away until October 15th.

 He showed up in the same way he had before. Glassy-eyed, hurt, and willing to do whatever Jake wanted to make everything slightly okay for a little while. 

 Tonight, Jake chose balloons. 

 “You can’t be serious,” Rich groaned. He was on Jake’s couch, a glass of white wine in hand. Something imported from Italy, or maybe France? All Jake knew was that it cost four hundred dollars.

 Jake shrugged. “Isn’t Brooke’s birthday coming up? It could be for her party.”

 “This is literally just a fucked up coping mechanism, don’t pretend it’s anything else.”

 Jake sighed disappointedly and leaned back against the couch. He was on the floor in front of it, a pack of two hundred balloons in his hand. They were all different colors—some neon, some pastel, some black, and others white. He’d bought them on a whim at a Walgreens for twenty bucks with no particular plan. Faced with his barren living room, the only signs of human existence the expensive vases on the end tables and the overstuffed throw pillows, he’d decided he’d blow them up and throw them around just to add a splash of color. 

 Jake looked up at Rich. He was half asleep but tense, his face scrunched up and hands clenched. It’d been bad this time around. It hadn’t just been Rich’s existence that pissed his dad off—he’d done something. Probably something minuscule, like broken a glass or clogged the toilet, but it was enough that what was usually a couple of light bruises and a limp had turned to black and blue blemishes over his right eye and up his chest. His lip was busted and every breath seemed labored and painful. Jake, unsure of what else to do, ran his thumb over Rich’s pulse and whispered, “Please?”

 Rich opened one eye to look down at Jake. Amongst the annoyance and pain, Jake saw a flash of pity. Rich shifted uncomfortably. 

 “Fine, but I have at least two broken ribs so you’re going to have to accept the fact I’m only blowing up one or two of these.”

 “Of course,” Jake rushed out, his hands already fumbling with the packaging of the balloons. “I wouldn’t—if it hurts, you don’t have to. Obviously. Just—”

 Rich thoughtlessly threaded his fingers through Jake’s hair. Jake’s voice gave out. 

 “I don’t understand you,” Rich whispered, not even bothering to look at Jake. “You’re confident all day, and then the second it gets dark you freak out. I’m the same person I am all the time. I know you don’t want to hurt me. Calm down.”

 It was, of course, a trend Jake had noticed as well. At school, he could control his tone and inflections to the point he sometimes wondered if he was accidentally manipulating the people around him into loving him. Then at night, when his defenses were already broken down by hours of facing the empty, stormy seas that were his house, he could barely find it in himself to get out a sentence without stuttering. 

 He blamed it on the one lie Rich had told in his claim: that he was the same person. He wasn’t. There was something different about nighttime Rich that had Jake’s face feeling too hot and the silence turning into the sound of his heart beating circles in his chest. 

 “Sorry,” Jake replied softly, “I dunno why it happens. You make me nervous.”

 Rich raised an eyebrow. Jake shoved a purple balloon in his face and hoped that would be enough for the topic to be dropped. It was still too sensitive, still too in the early stages of development, for Jake to be prepared enough to vocalize the worst of it. Someday, maybe. Probably. Once he didn’t have Christine to distract him or Jeremy’s constant insults to scare him into suppressing every urge that didn’t perfectly line up with the picture everyone else had of him in their minds. 

 Rich took the balloon and started to blow it up. For Jake, the process was effortless. Rich struggled through it tediously, taking small breaths and wincing after almost every one. Jake hated to say that he’d originally interpreted Rich’s complaints as a joke, but his worry hadn’t really spiked until Rich choked out an awkward, muffled cough and pained groan. 

 “Do you need—”

 “No,” Rich breathed, “No, I’m fine. Shut up, Jake.”

 Jake turned back to his neon green balloon without a word. He’d blown up almost twenty by now, enough to coat half the living room in a thin layer of color. He thoughtlessly kicked one with his foot and smiled as he watched it hit a picture of his mother and uselessly bounce off. Smiling, he kicked another one. It hit a picture of himself as a child. 

 He turned to Rich to tell him—about what, he wasn’t sure. Kicking balloons? Hitting pictures of himself and his family? His coping mechanisms were getting more fucked up by the second—and was almost immediately paralyzed by… fuck, by Rich. Just Rich. 

 He was sitting crisscross on the couch, a balloon in his lap. He’d spent the last four and a half minutes blowing it up to just a little bigger than Jake’s head. It was still smaller than it was supposed to be but Jake wasn’t going to complain. It was physically impossible when he could barely get enough oxygen in his lungs to speak. It wasn’t that there was a crushing panic on his chest stopping him from breathing, it was something much brighter. There were so many butterflies in his stomach they were flying into his chest and choking off every inhale. 

 Rich’s lips were wet. That was really what doomed Jake. He’d previously been unaware that every time Rich removed the balloon from his mouth he felt the need to lick his lips, but now that Rich was focused purely on tying the balloon off and was giving Jake ample time to stare, Jake was forced to acknowledge the way his vision tunneled at the sight. The way his whole body seemed to go warm. 

 Jake turned fully to face Rich, the balloon in his hand completely abandoned in lieu of watching Rich stick his tongue out in frustration as he struggled to keep the balloon inflated while tying the knot. When he finally succeeded, he burst into a smile louder than any record Jake had played over the past month.

 Rich looked up, eyes bright, and faltered when he found Jake already staring at him. He cleared his throat as his face flushed red. 

 “Uh, hi,” he squeaked out. Jake wanted to scream. This was one of the differences that left him speechless. Daytime Rich would smirk and call him gay. This Rich just looked flustered. 

 “Hi,” Jake whispered back. 

 “Whatcha doin’?”

 Jake considered his response carefully. One song or another was playing softly in the background, the balloons were filling up the emptiness. Everything was kind of okay. Jake had nothing left to cope with. He just… 

 “I really want to kiss you right now,” he answered. Rich froze. 

 “What?”

 Jake got up just enough so he was kneeling, purple and green and red balloons gathered around his knees and feet and the coffee table his back was pressed up against. He leaned up so he was close enough to run his pointer finger down Rich’s jawline and nudge his nose against Rich’s.

 “You heard me. You can tell me to stop.”

 Rich remained silent. Jake thought he felt ocean waters rising around his waist, drowning his balloons and pictures in stormy salt water. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed Rich like his life depended on it, because it did, and felt his heart start beating again for the first time in months when Rich kissed him back just as desperate and soft and messily. 

 Hands tangled in Rich’s hair, mouth open and his tongue practically shoved in Rich’s mouth, licking at teeth like they were nectar or ambrosia, he scrambled onto the couch, limbs slow and unsteady as he climbed over Rich and forced him back against the couch. He tried to get himself closer to his paradise, his respite, his island in the middle of the ocean, but all he got was a wretched screeching sound and the feeling of air-filled plastic against his chest. 

 He pulled away just enough for Rich to let out a small whine as they lost contact with each other.

 “Rich.”

 “Yeah?” Rich asked breathlessly, already trying to lean up and kiss him again. 

 “Get rid of the fucking balloon.”

 Rich’s eyes widened, almost comically so. Jake wanted to cry at the way that sent his heart into overdrive.

 “Yeah, yeah, right, hold on—”

 He threw it across the room. Jake found the balloons kind of useless now. He was so filled with giddiness and hope that he couldn’t even comprehend how anything could ever be empty. 

 Until October 30th. 

 Rich didn’t need to knock on Jake’s door or let himself in. Jake was at Rich’s house, banging on the door repeatedly, each knock echoing and panicked. He didn’t stop until Rich swung the door open, rumpled and half asleep. 

 “What the fuck?” 

 “I need to talk to you.”

 Rich glanced back inside—presumably at his dad—before nodding. 

 “Yeah, okay, lemme get changed and put on my shoes, then we can go.”

 Jake nodded rapidly. His mind was racing beyond what he could understand, landing on panicked responses before he even knew what had triggered his fight or flight. He didn’t stop moving even as Rich disappeared back into his house. His foot tapped against the concrete. His fingers picked at his nails and the fabric of his shirt and his hair. Curses ran through his mind like a broken record, repeated until the sound was imprinted on Jake’s brain. 

 Rich appeared and suddenly everything in Jake’s mind went silent. 

 “So… are we doing this here or…?”

 “My house. Not uh—” Jake glanced back behind Rich. Not near your father was the implied statement. Rich sagged with relief.

 “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

 Jake could feel Rich’s concern in his gaze. He was watching Jake’s every move as if preparing for something, like Jake was going to swerve the car off the road and into a ditch or shoot himself. It made Jake want to laugh. Or scream. Or cry. He was going to die. 

 He didn’t even make it back to his own house. It was only a six-minute drive and he only made it four minutes in before he pulled over on the side of the road and stormed out of the car, his whole body trembling. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed an escape from the cramped driver’s seat of his car. He needed the autumn air to stop him from overheating and the wide expanse of stars to talk him down from an anxiety attack. 

 Rich fumbled after him, too confused to be panicked and too disoriented to be calm. 

 “What the hell?! Slow down—”

 Jake halted and spun on his heel, eyes wide. They were by a pond with benches and a dock and a parking lot only twenty feet away. There were grills along the beach and a football in the grass. Jake almost screamed. Every sign of humanity felt like too much. If he was going to do this, he needed it to be in the middle of the desert or the empty expanse of space with no one but Rich around to hear his confession.

 No. Fuck it. He needed to do this now. 

 “I’m gay.”

 Rich seized up. He was only a foot away from Jake, close enough so when he finally regained control of his muscles, he was able to reach out and take Jake’s hands. 

 “Really?” he whispered, looking up at Jake with eyes that literally shone like gold or diamonds. Jake wanted to drown in it.

 He swallowed his shame, not caring that it burned at his throat, and said, “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. Not all the way. I like girls. But I like kissing you and I like boys and I… I just like you. All of you. All the way. I like you. I’m really sorry.”

 Rich broke out into a grin. 

 “Yeah?” he asked just for confirmation. Jake nodded again. 

 Rich jumped up into Jake’s arms, fully committed to getting as physically close as he could. He wrapped his legs around Jake’s waist and his arms around his neck and fingers in his hair and kissed him hard on the lips. Jake felt like he was at home for the first time in years.

 “Me too,” Rich said between kisses, “Me too. So much. So fucking much.”

 Jake smiled into every kiss, so ecstatic he could barely keep himself standing. He fell back into the grass whispering, “Run away with me. Forever. It’s terrible here. It’s so terrible.”

 Rich nodded in agreement and pressed a gentle kiss on Jake’s neck. 

 “They hate us and we’re gonna find someplace better. I have enough money. Just run away with me, please. We can go anywhere you want.”

 “Anywhere?” Rich asked. He sounded pained, like the word burned as it came out. Jake nodded and propped himself up on his elbows. 

 “Anywhere. Just promise me you won’t leave.”

 Rich smiled and kissed him again. 

 “I promise,” he murmured, “I promise you’re beautiful, I promise I’ll run away with you, I promise I won’t leave, I—”

 He paused. Dread burrowed itself like a bullet in Jake’s chest. He searched Rich’s expression for answers before Rich had the chance to start speaking again. 

 “Not… not tonight, though, okay? There’s something I gotta do first.”

 “Is it—?”

 “Don’t worry about it, Jake. It’s nothing. How about Sunday? Give me tomorrow to take care of things, then we’re gone.”

 November first. The day after tomorrow. 

 Jake could handle it. He’d host his Halloween party, break up with Christine, and tie up any loose ends he had left. He’d be gone before he ever had to clean up the hell of a mess his friends were sure to leave behind in his parents' house.

 “Promise?” he whispered.

 Rich nodded. 

 “Promise. I just need tomorrow.”

#yes there is an extended metaphor but it's super super vague and barely there #if anyone can figure it out i'll... i don't know i'm not giving you money but i'll do something bc i'll be very impressed #richjake #rich goranski #jake dillinger #bmc #squipped rich #be more chill musical #sparkly star fanfic #FUN FACT I FUCKING HATE THIS #i actually wrote a whole other fic before this today (i did so much writing from 8-10 pm my fingers hurt) #and i hated it so much i deleted it and started over and wrote this #I WAS FOUR THOUSAND WORDS IN #i don't think people realize i'm not joking when i say i hate my writing idk #like i try to phrase it in an at least somewhat funny way but i hope you all realize i know its bad #like i am completely aware of how utterly shitty it is #the only reason i post it is bc. i don't know actually #it just happens #my brain goes quiet when i write and it goes even quieter when i share it with people #so. yeah. i. i am in a mood rn lmao #i tried to hide the ranting deep in the tags hopefully no one notices #if you're still here fuck off this is my therapy

[adventuringblind]

Stash

Oscar Piastri x Autistic Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Summary: Oscar confronts his lovers' weird habits for food storing.

Warnings: talks of eating disorders and past abuse

Notes: based on personal experience. My therapist says she's glad that I have an outlet. Apparently, writing myself into scenarios like this is healing. Who would've ever thunk it??

Masterlist

Oscar was prepared for a great many things when his girlfriend moved in with him. Things they had already talked about extensively. Like how she has her own routine that she follows, even if it doesn't feel like it. Or how she has sleeps on top of the duvet instead of under it.

Things that seem very minor to him. Apparently, other people have said it's weird, and she felt the need to warn him about her habits before moving in. She likes to communicate like that. Another thing he loves about her.

What he was not expecting was to find food stashed away in the most random places.

He didn't confront her about it at first. Maybe this is just a way she feels safe or a reminder to herself to eat something when she sees it. But then he started getting concerned when he wasn't seeing her eat at home.

She followed him around to races and could eat at restaurants, given she was with safe people who didn't tease her for being so plain. She ate snacks when she felt the need.

While she was out one day, he asked Lando over. The Brit was mildly confused as to why he was helping search the depths of the flat for food.

"You litterally have stocked cupboards."

"It's not for me! My girlfriend is stashing food around the house, and I'm trying to see if there is a pattern and maybe figure out why."

"Have you considered asking?"

"Not after she joked about her relationship with food."

Lando, who knows very well how hard eating can be sometimes, comes to the realization that there may be more to this then just sensory issues. Insecurity and scrutiny are hard things to deal with. He wouldn't be shocked if that's the reason she has foods she loves in places Oscar wouldn't find them.

Eventually they do find a pattern. It's not about where they are hidden, it's about what is hidden. It feels as if a child thought they were going to get in trouble for not asking to eat first. It's saddening to Oscar that his lover doesn't feel she can just eat normally around him.

"Do you know if she grew up doing this?"

"No clue."

~~~~~

When she got home that night, she found Oscar setting the table for dinner. Which is already odd considering they don't eat at the table. She hates eating at the table. It feels like she's being judged while she eats and makes her unable to think clearly.

But she would suffer through it. Why? because Oscar has made her comfort food, and it would be a crime not to eat with him after he did such a thing.

"What's all this for?" She asks while setting her things down.

"Well, I know you hate the dinner table, but we need to talk about something, and I thought comfort food and dim lighting might help the anxiety."

She takes her seat and thanks him for the gesture. The pit in her stomach aching with the thought of what he may want to talk about.

"So, your food stashing habits...."

Oh. Oh no. She'd been found out. She is going to get lectured just like she did at home. The one thing she was trying to desperately to avoid.

She drops her head in shame. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong, alright?" I just need to know why and if I can help. You're not eating full meals when we're home and the food your hiding makes me think your self-conscious. I just want you to feel safe here, with me."

She sighs. The female knew she would have to confront this eventually. It's not that she doesn't feel safe eating here, it's that these are learned habits that she has yet to unlearn.

"My parents would often get upset when I didn't eat what they made. It's not that I was being ungrateful, I just couldn't keep it in my mouth without gagging. Textures and things."

Oscar hums as he listens. He knows textures are hard for her. Food, clothing, even certain blankets are hard for her to feel.

"My parents were also always talking about my eating habits. So, to avoid being scrutinized, I would hide food in my room to eat when nobody was around."

Oscar is a soft person. Easygoing, quiet, and according to Lando, boring. In this moment he is none of those things. He feels for his lover that she doesn't feel safe eating at home because of her parents.

Thus enters a time of Oscar warming her up to eating in the house. Not just small things, real meals and snacks and simply whenever she's hungry.

It's definitely a slow process. Oscar still finds food in strange places occasionally, but he leaves it and reminds her that it's okay to put her food in the cabinet.

He never makes a mention of what she's eating. Even if he's just curious. He never talks about it.

Eventually, she starts putting her food in the cupboard. conversations about food become a little easier and doesn't send her into a flurry of insecurity.

Every little step counts, and Oscar is proud of her for every single one she takes.

#x reader #formula one #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #fanficion #racing #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #mclaren #lando norris #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 #lando norris f1 #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren racing #mclaren lando norris #mclaren f1 #lando norris fanfic #autistic reader #autism

[olderthannetfic]

I always see people who have never been antis, talking about/questioning how some antis even ARE antis when you look at their taste in media - ie the ever famous joke of "Hannigram is #problematique" "but it's a show where he eats people" or whatever.

I thought I'd weigh in as someone who could, hypothetically, be called an ex-anti (which, thankfully, nothing ever really came out of it - it was just very 2014 keyboardwarrior-esque behavior of me being a chronically online young adult who would share posts in a group chat making fun of certain shippers, or reblog posts about how 50shades is The Most Problematic Media Ever to exist -- basically I was an anti with anti-lines of thoughts, but i never, like, a ran a Shipping Discourse Blog or whatever)

For me, personally, it was a few different things. I can now see how it's incredibly hypocritical that teenaged me shipped Light/L, while still thinking that Dramione was Bad And Abusive. It ultimately boiled down to a) being pretentious, and b) just not understanding media or what proshippers REALLY believed, with a side of c) not realizing that nuance exists. like i was pretty late to join tumblr, I think I immigrated here during PEAK "yourfaveisproblematic" era which definitely did have an impact on my opinions and my tastes.

to elaborate, a.) being pretentious. i mean this one just kinda goes without saying. "I engage in media in a way more intellectual way than you do, don't you know that? You're a filthy and disgusting person who writes Snape/Hermione because you're an actually disgusting pedophile IRL who would probably date your own student that you're abusing if you could. Meanwhile, I'm a very smart, good, and pure person. When I read Uncle Vernon/Harry, I'm doing it in a G-d honoring whump way that clearly condemns abuse, incest, and rape. Unlike YOU who only writes harmful stuff as a way to get people off :/"

(as an aside, i think this line of thinking will ALWAYS be present in fandom and popculture in some way, sadly. ie the recent trend of people hating on booktok bc the books are 'trashy' and how these porn addicts should read real classic literature instead.)

as for b.), not understanding media - i cannot emphasize enough that i was GENUINELY stupid and disconnected enough to think that proshippers REALLY WERE pro-All Of The Degenerate Dead Doves That They Wrote.

why did i feel this way? why did i understand that Lolita clearly isnt pro-pedophilia, but for some reason i thought that someone shipping weecest was? well, first of all, i think that fanfiction is (generally) seen as Less Serious than classic literature, and fandom is a fun place, so i guess i somehow thought that every fanfic/fanartist who wrote Problematic Things, especially Problematic Things that they portrayed as Sexy, really DID enjoy the thought of that Actually Happening To Real People.

and i think THIS is the bulk of why antis ARE antis. i'm not calling them all stupid - i do think BEING an anti is stupid, but at the same time, there are people who are truly smart and good-intended people who just have some really off color opinions about, like, homestuck ships or whatever. Lawlight is okay because notebooks that kill people don't exist so it's IMPOSSIBLE for the Harmful Aspects of Light/L to be romanticized! but schoolyard prejudiced bullies DO exist and are a REAL problem so Drarry is BAD (*truly completely unaware of the fact that there's 'realistic' aspects of the Light/L dynamic and 'unrealistic' aspects of Drarry - such as, for example, Hogwarts arguably being even MORE of a fantasy setting than DN is.*) I know that media literacy is the hot buzzword of the year to throw around in 2024, but, like, i really did not have media literacy.

as for c.), not realizing nuance exists - ok "nuance" might not be the best word here, but i dont know how else to describe it. like, each time ive typed the word "problematic" out in this ask, i've done so in a very tongue in cheek/ironic/retroactive way, but, like, those posts about how Everything Is Problematic, Including Your Fave ARE true. and i didn't like the fact that my favorite media or favorite person might've Made A Mistake! i need to Talk About Its Issues Because I'm So Betrayed That My Dear Sweet Comfort Media Would Do This To Me. I Need To Prove I Clearly Condemn It.

like, i legit morally could not justify reblogging a twilight post without adding in the tags '#this is my guilty pleasure it sucks that the books were so racist though' or whatever. Most people were lucky enough to avoid that line of thinking, but there was an actual group of people who felt a genuine need to virtue signal all the time, partly bc, hey, they WERE passionate about talking abt #issues in media, but also bc of a subconscious fear of If You Reblog A Singular Piece Of Hetalia Fanart, You're Literally A Nazi And Will Get A Callout Post Written About You.

and during all of this i was at the tail end of my high school experience (yes i know im younger than most of your audience, ha). i was going through A Lot emotionally, going through a lot of life changes, and lived in a very . . . interesting household/place where i couldn't do ACTUAL good in the world that i was passionate about. so to make up for the fact that i was genuinely in no place to do legit activism, clearly i had to save the gay community by arguing about johnlock queerbaiting or whatever.

^ and honestly i do think that is the position of most antis. theyre isolated and cant seem to do Enough in the Real Scary World so they have to resort to talking about how bad of a person someone is for "shipping abuse", bc theyre not in a situation where they could, for example, ACTUALLY fight the good fight to end abuse or raise awareness for it.

There was way more to it and way more that I could say, if I wanted to, but this post is long enough as it is and probably doesn't make much sense.

I feel bad for antis, honestly, or at least the ones who are antis in the way I used to be.

--

Oh yes, passionate young fools who think they can at least fix the internet if not their lives make up most of the cannon fodder. Some of the ringleaders are just mini dictators and wannabe cult leaders, but most anti-leaning types are just traumatized or clueless, even a lot of the ones who do serious damage and don't just mock shit in private with their friends.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

What if Eddie had been hidden at Steve's house after Chrissy?

A/N: This was supposed to be just a headcanon, but it sort of just ran away from me. Oops. It's really long, and there's going to be one more part. I may have mixed up a few things, considering I tried to write it all from memory, and I have the memory of a goldfish.

Summary: They sort of messed up with keeping Eddie safe from the public. Never once did they think that if they could find Eddie through Reefer Rick, then other people could, too? I bet Steve thought Eddie would be safer at his house, but he was unsure of saying it. He wasn't sure if it would be smart or not. Where is the last place they would look? Steve Harrington's house. What if Steve did say it outloud?

"Hey, Dustin," Steve said softly. "If we found Eddie through Reefer Rick, then can't other people find him too?"

They had finally found Eddie and were about to leave the boathouse when Steve got the idea.

"Well, where else do you suggest we hide him, Steve?" Dustin asked.

"Where's the last place, if at all, do you think they would look for him?" Steve asked.

"Well, they would never look for him at your place," Dustin laughed, and then he stopped. "Holy shit, they would never look for him at your place."

Dustin scurried back to the boathouse, coming back with a confused metalhead. Dustin went to climb into the passenger's seat but was pulled back by Eddie and pushed to the back seat.

"Parentals sit up front," Eddie replied, and Steve scoffed. "Especially ones who are new to all this shit. So, who's idea was it for me to hide at Harrington's?"

"It was Steve's," Dustin said casually.

Eddie stared at Steve as he drove off, unsure of what to make of him.

"Well, uh, thanks, man," Eddie said.

"No problem," Steve said, coughing awkwardly.

Once he dropped everyone off, it was just him and Eddie on the drive back.

"So, why are you doing this? Putting me up?" Eddie asked.

"Because Dustin looks up to you, man. I couldn't stand looking him in the eye, knowing something happened to you. I hate to say it, but we all know what's going to happen once they find Chrissy in your trailer. Besides, no one should be alone after discovering this shit," Steve said.

"Speaking from experience?" Eddie asked and Steve blushed.

He reached over to turn on the radio. "Cum on Feel the Noize" blasted through his speakers. Steve began beating on his steering wheel, singing loudly. He snapped his fingers at Eddie until Eddie had no choice but to join in. They were laughing almost all the way to Steve’s house. It had gotten a little awkward when Steve, laughing, had placed his hand on Eddie's knee. After Steve invited him into his house, given him some pajamas, he made him another offer.

"Look, you can pick any room, or you can share my bed if you don't want to sleep alone tonight?" Steve asked.

"You trying to take advantage of me, Harrington?" Eddie asked, and Steve stared at him before he realized that he was joking.

"Yeah, no, you'd know if I was taking advantage of you," Steve said and then paused. "Wait, that doesn't sound right."

Eddie laughed, taking the clothes Steve had given him, and began to strip right in front of him. Steve quickly averted his eyes, looking up at the ceiling when Eddie accidentally pulled down his boxers slightly when he started to take off his pants. Eddie had flashed him his ass.

"Whoops!" Eddie cackled. "I swear I'm not trying to make it up to you by putting on a show."

He pulled on the plaid pajama pants and flopped shirtless on Steve’s bed. He rolled around on Steve’s bed, standing up a couple of times to jump on it, and then finally laid on his back as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Seriously?"

Steve rolled his eyes and slipped into the spot beside him. Steve was startled when Eddie pulled him to his chest. His cheek was pressed up against his tattoos.

"I left my teddy bear at home, so a Stevie bear is going to have to do," Eddie said. "Thanks again for letting me stay here."

"It's not a problem," Steve muttered sleepily.

As Steve’s eyes began to flutter close, he felt a hand drift through his hair. Considering the situation, shouldn't this be the other way around? The next morning, Eddie was gone. Steve jumped up, panicking until he heard music coming from downstairs. He walked into the kitchen to find Eddie wearing one of his blue sweaters and cooking breakfast.

"Morning," Steve greeted and Eddie jumped.

"Good morning, my liege. Our son called. He and the others want to come over to talk," Eddie said.

"Really sticking with the whole he's our kid thing, huh?" Steve asked.

"As smart as he is, that kid would stick a fork into a power outlet if he was curious enough and if we weren't there to stop him," Eddie replied.

"That's fucking true," Steve laughed. "I think there has to be some sort of balance when you're as smart as Dustin. You also have to be just as dumb and reckless."

"You might be onto something, Steve," Eddie said with a laugh.

After breakfast, Steve took a shower and then went to get Dustin, Max, and Robin while Eddie started making breakfast for them.

"I do not want to listen to that little shit complain," Eddie had said.

While they ate breakfast, Dustin gave him the rundown of what had happened over the last couple of years. Meanwhile, Robin was leaning against the counter giving Steve a look.

"He's wearing your sweater, cooking breakfast in your house, and sleeping in your bed. It's all very domestic," Robin said.

"Shut up," Steve said, blushing.

"Gasp. Does Steve Harrington have a crush?" Robin whispered.

"Yeah, I think he's cute, but that doesn't mean I have a crush," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh, how the tables have turned," Robin said.

Just then, the sound of police sirens was heard in the distance. Everyone except Eddie raced outside. They watched as the cops drove by. They were heading towards the trailer park. Steve went inside and told Eddie to lay low before he grabbed his keys. After finding out that Fred, Nancy's friend, was killed, she was now involved in trying to find who or what was behind these attacks. While Robin and Nancy went to the library to find out more about Victor Creel, the others, minus Eddie, went to the counselors and then went to break into the school. They learned that Max was Vecna's next victim. They had all gathered in Nancy's basement, and Steve watched as Max paced, worry etched on her face. It made her look older than she was. Steve hated that. At least Lucas was with them now.

"They're definitely going to think Eddie did it after this," Dustin moped.

"Eddie!" Steve said. "I need to check on him. Make sure that Carver didn't get to him. Nance -,"

"Nancy and I got this. Go," Robin said, ushering him out.

Steve paused on his way out the door and turned to Max.

"Don't bite me for this," Steve said and gave her a one-armed hug.

He was surprised when Max hugged him back tightly and then moved back quickly.

"No one saw that," Max said, glaring at them.

Steve unlocked the door to his house, and as soon as he walked in, once again, he was pushed up against the wall. Eddie had him pinned, his full weight against him. One of his knees was slotted in between Steve’s legs. As soon as he realized who it was, Eddie stumbled back.

"Sorry, I don't know why I keep doing that," Eddie said apologetically.

"Really? Cause I'm starting to guess why," Steve grumbled under his breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I mean, no offense to you, but your house is kind of -," Eddie said.

"Creepy?" Steve asked.

"I was going to say lonely," Eddie said.

"Well, my parents left me alone so many times I probably left an impression on the place," Steve said sarcastically.

"How many times did they leave you alone?" Eddie asked.

"Too many times to count," Steve replied casually.

"Okay. I'm going to do something that's probably a little intimate for two people just starting to get to know one another," Eddie said.

"Because you practically pressing me to your nipple last night wasn't too intimate?" Steve asked.

"I was using you like a teddy bear, Steven!" Eddie exclaimed. "It was completely innocent."

"Lay it on me, Munson."

Eddie threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"Shh. Just let this happen," Eddie said. "This is called a hug."

"Fuck you, I know what a hug is, jackass," Steve replied, hugging him back.

"The first time I got a hug after my mom died was from my uncle. After she passed, my dad stopped being my dad. He ignored me a lot and became more reckless. I think I reminded him too much of Mama. One evening, he dropped me off at Wayne's and never came back. Hugs eventually became rather important to both of us. It reminded us that we weren't alone," Eddie said.

Steve hugged him tighter and burrowed his face into his neck. They stayed like that for a long time. Steve pulled back with a sigh.

"A student named Fred Benson died in your trailer park last night," Steve said. "And we discovered that Max is Vecna's next victim."

"Shit."

The next morning, Steve resisted the urge to kiss Eddie goodbye as he slipped out of bed. Eddie managed to mumble a goodbye before turning around and hugging the pillow that Steve had been sleeping on. Steve stared at Eddie's back and bit his lip as he felt a fluttering feeling in his chest. Steve fought another urge to slip back into bed and went to Nancy's.

When he walked into the basement, Max was writing furiously at the desk while Lucas and Dustin watched her. It turned out to be letters for everyone in case something went wrong. Steve was touched that he had gotten one but also concerned.

"So, how's your new roommate?" Dustin asked.

"Well, he kicks in his sleep," Steve said without thinking.

"All the rooms in your house and he's sleeping in your bed?" Max asked.

"After what he saw, would you want to be alone?" Steve asked, blushing.

"Oh my God! You like him!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Okay, just because I also like guys doesn't mean that I have to like the guy who I let sleep in my bed, wear my clothes, and who I sometimes let cuddle me. Okay?" Steve said, throwing up his hands.

"Right. Because I do that with all of my guy friends," Dustin grinned.

"Okay, yeah. He's cute, especially when I walked in the other day when a rollie pollie had gotten into the house. He was just crouching there, watching it scuddle along. He wasn't bothering it or anything. He was just watching it living its life, his head tilted to the side with a fond look - Oh my God, I like him!" Steve exclaimed.

"You know, if it had been a spider, it would have been creepy," Max said.

"Seriously, Max?" Lucas asked.

"Hey, I'm cursed. You can't scold me," she replied.

"You want me to do some infiltration? Find out what his situation is," Dustin asked.

"No, no, no. Don't do that," Steve said quickly. "I told you guys about me in my own time. If Eddie is also the same, he should be given the same opportunity to say it in his own time, right?"

"Right," all three coursed.

"You know I would never tell him that you like him, right?" Dustin asked.

"I wouldn't have told you guys about me if I didn't trust you guys to keep a secret," Steve said.

"We want you to be happy, Steve," Dustin said.

"My happiness isn't dependent on whether I'm in a relationship," Steve said. "My family makes me happy too."

"Dude, your parents suck," Lucas said.

"I wasn't talking about them. I was talking about you guys," Steve said, looking at all of them and looking pointedly at Max last.

Max sniffled and threw her arms around Steve, hugging him tightly.

"You assholes didn't see that either," Max said.

"Oh, dear, I think I've gone temporarily blind," Dustin said, waving his hands in front of his face.

"Shit, man, me too," Lucas said.

"Idiots."

Nancy and Robin had come into the room, announcing their plan to go see Victor Creel, where they found out that he survived by music pulling him out of his hallucination. It's what eventually led to them saving Max when she got cursed at Billy's grave. The imagine of her eyes and her floating in the sky would haunt Steve for a long time. Like Lucas, he would be forever grateful for Kate Bush.

"You guys want to meet up at my house this time?" Steve asked. "I have more room."

Max, Dustin, and Lucas shared a knowing look before nodding. Dustin was first through the door and into Eddie's arms. He was still wearing Steve’s blue sweater and a fresh pair of pajama bottoms. His hair was wet from taking a shower. Once Dustin broke from the hug, Steve swept Eddie up into his own arms. He hugged him tightly, smiling when he smelt his own shampoo in Eddie's hair. Steve told Eddie what happened and Eddie broke the hug.

"Shit, Red, you okay? Well, that's a stupid question. Of course, you're not okay. You know what, you will be. You're tough as hell. In fact, you could just scowl at that fucker and he'd melt. If anyone is made of hellfire, it's you," Eddie said.

Max rolled her eyes before throwing her arms him and hugging him too.

"Oh God! I'm blind again!" Dustin exclaimed.

The next morning, Steve was up before Eddie and everyone else. He decided to make breakfast. As he was cooking, Eddie and Max stumbled in. They were carrying paper and a large box of crayons.

"You guys are up early," Steve said.

"So are you," Eddie pointed out.

"I wanted to make breakfast for everyone," Steve replied.

"I couldn't sleep. Some people kept playing music in my ears," Max said as she started to draw.

Max out her earphones back on as Steve flipped on the radio to Eddie's favorite station. Just then, Nancy skidded into the kitchen and sighed in relief at the sight of Max. She plopped down next to her and watched her draw. Steve placed a cup of coffee in front of Eddie, just the way he liked it.

"Thanks, babe," Eddie said absent-mindedly, and Steve blushed.

Max and Nancy raised their eyebrows. They had heard that. Steve leaned over to see what Eddie was drawing and sighed, pinching his nose.

"Eddie, why the hell are you drawing a bunch of dicks?" Steve asked.

"You are what you want to eat, Stevie!" Eddie cackled, rolling the paper into a ball.

"Not in front of the child, Munson!" Steve exclaimed, and Max rolled her eyes while Nancy struggled not to laugh.

Steve opened his mouth to say something else when Eddie shoved the paper ball into his mouth.

"Eat a bunch of dicks, Harrington!" Eddie cackled and frowned when Steve spat it out. "You're supposed to swallow."

"I wish someone told me that before I ate a bunch," Max quipped.

Steve, Eddie, and Nancy all turned their heads to blink rapidly at her. Steve and Eddie both looked like they wanted to rip off their own ears.

"Relax, guys, I'm joking. Jesus, I'm not ready for that," she said.

Steve sighed in relief, clutching his chest. Meanwhile, Eddie was checking his pulse. Nancy rolled her eyes at both of them, but the color was just starting to come back to her own face.

"What are you drawing, Max?" Nancy asked.

Max explained to her that she was drawing what she had seen in Vecna's red soup mind as Steve had called it. Nancy watched her draw, and she eventually pieced together that Max was drawing Victor Creel's house.

"We'll go there after breakfast," Nancy stated.

"Everyone but me again," Eddie said, pouting.

"You're a wanted man, Eddie," Nancy pointed out.

"Yeah, baby," Eddie said, grinning.

"Not like that," Steve said, rolling his eyes.

"So, there's no one here who wants me like that?" Eddie asked innocently, batting his eyelashes.

"I mean, I didn't, I didn't mean that no one - KIDS, BREAKFAST!" Steve yelled.

Eddie cackled into his cup of coffee. They heard the sound of feet pounding down the stairs. Dustin and Lucas came running into the kitchen to fix themselves food. Robin came stumbling into the kitchen a moment later, rubbing sleep from her eyes. After they all sat down to eat, a news report came on the radio. Patrick McKee died at Lover's Lake. Steve had been right. They did try to find Eddie at Reefer Rick's. Everyone stared at Eddie, and he sighed.

"Go, I'll clean up," Eddie said.

Everyone started rushing out the door, and that's when Eddie noticed that Steve had forgotten his keys.

"Stevie!" Eddie cried, and Steve skidded to a stop as everyone was leaving. "You forgot something, big boy!"

"Right!"

Steve rushed back into the kitchen, cupped Eddie's face, and kissed him before running out the door.

"You forgot your fucking keys," Eddie muttered in shock.

Meanwhile, Steve was diving into the back of Nancy's station wagon with Dustin. As Nancy was driving away, Steve realized what he did and he hit his forehead.

"What?" Dustin asked.

"I forgot my fucking keys on the counter."

Part 2 (hopefully the final part) is coming soon!

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #long fic #bisexual eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington

[hatchetblogging]

So continuing this:

AU where Eddie still dies but he's like "take me back so I can be with Richie or else I'm gonna be a real bitch about it" and then he's reincarnated to a new body. (How he gets the body is up to the writer ) so he looks completely different AND Richie (and the other losers) pretty much think he's dead.

Also Stan is alive. He still took the bath, but Patty was able to get to him and take him to the hospital in time. The Losers all know he's okay and have reunited with him!!! His near death experience triggers his shine so he's able to figure out what happened to Eddie and provide Eddie the help he needs. (Like a place to stay )

And piggybacking on @princess-glassred 's adition

"What if he wakes up in the body of some one else who died suddenly, some one with a total opposite life to his. Like some famous douche bag actor known for really living it up at parties that unceremoniously dies in a motorcycle crash. Turns out the new movie he just signed onto will be *gasp* STARRING RICHIE TOZIER

Imagine if the person Eddie is stuck as had such a rotten reputation Richie already hates him before meeting him, so all the nice stuff they do is mostly faked for the cameras. When they first meet Eddie is happy to hug Richie again and jokingly flirt with him, but when the cameras stop rolling and Richie tells him to fuck off back to his coke filled trailer Eddie is all confused, but he's still determined to break through to him by acting kindly to him."

It freaking hurt when Richie pushed him away with hate in his eyes. Richie never ever looked at him like that before and he didn't know what to do.

Eddie researches the guy his new body once belonged to and he is just extremely appalled about all of the shit that the dude has done. Things like supporting problematic people, harassing female cast members and crew, not to mention all of the offensive tweets he's been posting. He doesn't understand why the industry was still hiring the dude but he doesn't have time for that they have to convince Richie to not to think he's an asshole first before he can even think about telling Richie that, surprise!!!, he's actually Eddie in a new body!

It takes a lot of convincing but he was able to get Richie to hang out with him for real. And Eddie does his best to convince Richie that he's changed. Richie of course sees it as the dude just trying to save this reputation so he won't get cancelled.

Eddie's like, "I don't care if the whole world hates me. I just don't want you to hate me."

Richie's like, "um.. okay.."

"Because I'm such a huge fan of yours!" Eddie backtracks. "You're, like my favorite actor! And I liked your stand ups too"

"You do?"

"Well...I started liking them when you started writing your own jokes. The earlier ones kinda sucked."

And Richie let out an amused snort. Not a laugh. But it was close. "Okay. If you like my jokes then maybe you're not as bad as i think you are."

"Really?"

"Nah. You're worse" Richie says before cracking a smile to indicate that he's joking.

Eddie realizes that that's the first time Richie genuinely smiled at him, and it makes Eddie's heart happy and hurt at the same time.

#it still takes a while for richie to completely trust him and let his gaurd down around him #it's like you're getting to know each other again for the first time #also i headcanon Eddie's new body to look like adam brody because I'm missing freddy freeman. #reddie #otp: he knew well enough #richie tozier and eddie kaspbrak #IT 2019 #stephen king's IT #reddie a second chance au

[romeored]

Ode to notes app catharsis and highway 97

There's a suicide circle on memory lane, right at the intersection of you and me. Warp speed, sweetheart. This is only ending with me first over the finish line or in a full body cast. I don't want it any other way. I hope you wreck your stupid car and I hope he's in the passenger seat when you do. I want to see the look in your eyes when you realize that I'm reaching all the dreams you gave up on and that I look twice as good doing it as you ever would have. I want to see the look in your eyes when you realize that I'm the one who's walking away this time. I want your blood on my hands. I want to dissect you on live TV and point out every single flawed bit of your insides to the entire world. I want you begging for my forgiveness on your knees in the dirt just so i can turn my back on you. Thinking about the future feels like doing 80 in a 25 and im not sure whether I want to hit the gas or the breaks but all that matters is that you won't fucking be there. That part feels like flying.

People say that revenge is a dish best served cold. there hasn't been anything even room temperature between us in a very long time and I can't wait to watch you rot from a distance. You're on the downward spiral and you don't even realize it. The jokes write themselves and you're the biggest fool of all. I am too, but only because i loved you at one point. I guess it's on me for not having enough sense to be wary of snakes. The cracks in the pavement sound like machine gun fire under my tires and every pothole takes me farther away from you. The sidewalk in your neighborhood is scrawled with good intentions and i should have been smart enough to read them the first time I walked up the street. I've learned my lesson. Im a kicked dog, and it was only going to be so long before i bit the hand that fed me. you were never the one holding my leash and I've finally learned when it's time to jump ship. Loyalty is so last season on both of us. Hearts of gold aren't good for much other than being heavy and I already gave mine away one too many times. Rule number one you either do the leaving or get left behind and im enjoying watching you get smaller in my rearview.

I wonder if you realize that you grew up to be everything we used to hate. hope you see a stranger in the mirror.

#my writing #writblr

[heartssatoru]

How about JJK men(Gojo, Megumi, Nanaimo,Itadori and Toge if possible) how they react to a fight with their s/o!

Of course! Toge is also one I can do! Thank you for the request <3

Characters: Gojo, megumi, nanami, itadori, sukuna, and toge!

warnings: none, but angst to fluff, kinda suggestive on sukunas part. Also not proofread!

On request, don't forget to ask if you want fluff, angst, or even smut! I prefer hcs but it's fine if you don't want that, just don't expect much from me on there😭

Also, I noticed that you had put nanami, i don't know at all how to write for him! I'm really sorry, I've rewatched jujutsu kaisen multiple times and I still don't really know😭 please forgive me on that part🙏

Gojo:

Tells you you're being dramatic, which only causes the argument to get worse.

Thinks that he's the one being mature in this argument

He really just wants for this to end, but he doesn't realize he's pissing you off even more

Or maybe he does

Tries to end it, because he hates arguing with you. He always feels guilty

Even if he started it

As soon as you start giving him silent treatment he feels bad

But tries to ignore it because he thinks you'll probably stop

He thinks your gonna end up coming to him

If you don't then he'll whine out apologies, especially if it means no more cuddles for him

If you ignore him more than he's sigh dramatically

Either scoops you up in his arms, or buys you stuff then scoops you up in arms

There's really no way to avoid him😭

Megumi:

Why are you mad at him? Let alone arguing??

kinda just stares at you and stays silent, cause he doesn't know what to say

Also he doesn't want the argument to get worse. So he just stands there

Probably doesn't really care, because he thinks that you'll calm down

If you don't however

He doesn't really know what to do. And is clueless because he doesn't want to upset you even more

Apologizes once and then tries to act like as if nothing happened

You'll let him off this time

Itadori

Says little mean things back, just not really rude. Because he doesn't wanna hurt your feelings

Goofs around especially if he doesn't know why your arguing.

But If your dead serious he'll stop, he doesn't really like seeing you angry

It scares him a bit

Sukuna will probably insult you too but ignore him please 😭

Genuinely will apologize and try to make up because he hates being yelled at

Probably had tears in his eyes when you were yelling

Sukuna:

Laughs at you, whats your problem this time??

Oh what, is it because he's insulting you? Hes just like that

Was it his jokes? Their just jokes, for the time being so why so upset??

Even though he finds it amusing, calm down. Its kinda annoying to him

don't really expect much from this man, most likely puts you in your place before anything else happens

Also because he refuses to take disrespect from a human. Thats disgusting

And if you have the guts to try and argue with him, so be it!

He wont kill you don't worry. Thats far from his mind, but will make you apologize one way or another

Toge:

Feels bad and doesn't know what to do, especially because he can't talk

You guys probably argue on messages or something😭😭

Whatever the reason is he trys to explain

His hands all sweaty and him texting all fast. Tries to get you to feel better on text

Probably spams you with apologies, poor boy. And plus he doesn't like seeing you angry

Gives you personal space, times like these make him feel especially bad because he can't try and talk

And after a bit he'll message you asking you if your okay

If you are he'll take you out because he still feels bad about the argument

Edit: hi! I know some people have liked this post but before so, I put sukuna instead of toge. It was 11PM so I apologize on that part! (I just now realized I didn't do toge and rushed on his part) also my apologies with toge, my auto correct makes his name "together"

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo satoru x reader #megumi x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader hcs

[herslvtspeaks]

Ice Brady | New Year New Us

Ice Brady x Female! Reader

it's been a long time coming 😩 i been waiting for this one hope yall enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it

Usually you spent New Years with family, but considering you were now in college and nowhere near home you couldn't spend the holiday with them this year. Thus leading you to opt for the next best option spending New Years in your bestfriends dorm.

Overtime you and Ice became friends after learning you both shared the same major. You also were a big fan of hers before you transferred to Uconn the previous spring. Ice would be lying if she said she wasn't a fan of yours herself. Overtime the two of you just grew closer and closer.

You were currently sitting on the floor in the living area of their dorm sandwiched between Ice and Aaliyah. Everyone knew you had a little crush on Ice which is why you weren't surprised when suddenly Kk got cold and made you trade spots with her so she could sit on the couch leaving you next to Ice. You would have protested the swap if Ice didn't practically latch herself onto you and beg you to sit next to her. She was impossible to say no to.

You and the rest of the girls had been so excited to watch the countdown in time square all day leading to all of you cooped up in front of the tv sharing blankets and snacks as you stared intently at the tv. Sitting next to Ice left your stomach in a knot. You were burning up from the inside out and the girl wasn't even doing anything. At some point her head ended up on your shoulder, your breath caught in your throat at the action. You just hoped she didn't notice.

After a while you calmed down and started breathing again. "Hey i'm kinda thirsty" Paige says getting up from the couch. She digs around in the fridge for a second before closing it. "And there's nothing to drink" Ice raises her head from your shoulder. "I could've sworn we just went shopping" she says garnering a kick in the side from Azzi. "I think Y/n and Ice should walk across the street and get us something to drink" Kk suggests. You turn around giving her the meanest mug ever. "Yeah that's a good idea" Aaliyah says agreeing. You look around the room as if these people were mad. "You must be out of your rabid ass-" before you could finish your sentence Ice interrupted you. "We'll go" she says getting up.

You look at her like she's crazy before finally agreeing. "Only because i'm thirsty too" you grumble getting up. The two of you grab your coats, you reluctantly putting your shoes on. It was like 5 minutes until the countdown and you knew the two of you wouldn't make it back in time. "You guys owe us big time" you say before walking out the dorm.

"Wondering why they sent the two of us instead of going themselves" Ice says breaking the silence. "Maybe they hate me or something" you laugh shaking your head. "I doubt that, but if it makes you feel better, i like you more than them" Ice says making you laugh a little more. You both continued to crack jokes until you looked at your phone and realized it was 1 minute until the ball dropped. "I hate that we're missing it" she says looking at the expression on your face. "It's okay, i'm still with my favorite person so i don't mind" you say making her smile.

You both look at the clock on your phone watching as the seconds counted down to the new year. "Happy New Year" you both cheer. Before you had a chance to think she leans in placing a kiss against your lips. You didn't have time to comprehend what was happening but you knew you wanted to kiss her back, so you did. You wrap your arms around her neck pulling her closer as her arms found there way around your waist.

You pull away looking at her. "Whoa" was all you could manage to get out. "I've literally waited so long to do that" she says. "You kissed me" you nearly screamed. "And you kissed me back" she responds laughing. You look up at her not knowing what to say. She still had her arms around you, how close the two of you were was causing that feeling in your stomach to return.

You couldn't explain why you were freaking out. Maybe because this was your bestfriend, the first friend you made when you got to Uconn and yes though you had a crush on her you never expected her to return your feelings. "I've literally wanted to kiss you for the longest" she admits. "If i knew you liked me i would've let you kiss me sooner" you mumbled in disbelief. This felt like a fever dream. "Can we kiss again so i know it's real" you ask making her laugh. She places a quick kiss on your lips. "You're so pretty you know that" she must be trying to kill you. You look up at her fighting the urge to take a bite out of her right then and there. "I literally am gonna explode" you say aloud.

She let's go of your waist opting to hold your hand now. You were screaming internally the whole walk back to the dorm. How could you not have noticed she liked you? You realized this whole time you probably were just in denial.

When you made it back to the dorm the girls were not happy to see that you returned empty handed. They chose to ignore the giant smile adorning your face. "You guys make me sick" Azzi says causing the dorm to erupt in laughter. They all assumed what had occurred, it's not like they didn't plan it. They'd been plotting all day to find a way to get this to happpen. "Now i can stop listening to the two of you talk about how much you like the other" Kk rolls her eyes. You look at ice who had yet to let go of your hand. You probably seen her smile more today than in the whole time you've known her.

The rest of the night you and Ice were stuck like glue. When it was time to go to sleep the girls thought they were going to have to surgically remove you from each other. Let's just say this was the best New Year's you'd ever had.

Reblogs and notes greatly appreciated 🩷

#herslvt #herslvtspeaks #uconn wbb #ice brady #ice brady x reader #yes queen i been waiting for this one #hope yall like it

[theintrovertbean]

I wanna see how Nadia realized she loves Mc. Like when she realizes just how much she loves and cares for Mc and I’m talking bout before they got together because the M6 describes Mc , Mc is strong, caring , smart, talented and I just wanna see when Nadia realizes she loves Mc. ( also wanna see how she reacts to Mc being the strong Magician people say they are)🙃

Oh boy, I made this so long. I think I got a little bit carried away, but that's okay because the more Nadia content the better.

Thank you for the request, Anon! It was a delight and I had the time of my life writing it.

How Nadia realized that she loves MC

Nadia loved MC long before she even realized it. For three months, she dreamt of them and she saw their face everywhere. She already loved the idea of MC and having them in her life, but since there isn't much logic in that, she pushed it away until it was no longer possible to ignore.

However, MC was not entirely the same person in reality, but the potential was always there.

Remember the part in Nadia's route when MC was in The Tower realm with Nadia, and they woke her up from her magic slumber? Yeah, that's the person Nadia was already in love with. That version of MC didn't exist yet, at least not at the beginning of the game. But when Nadia finally invited them to the palace, and as they spent more time together, MC eventually became that person.

MC was once a powerful magician, I guess even stronger than Asra. Because MC died and lost their memories, it's likely that a lot of those abilities were lost, but not entirely. Still, this doesn't mean that MC is not a powerful magician, they just need to find a way to tap into that power. MC literally goes from cutie patootie who can summon a ball of light to breaking the Devil's chains. If that's not powerful, then idk what is.

On the one hand, Nadia is glad that the people didn't lie about MC being powerful because she hates liars. On the other hand, she found MC's power quite attractive and relieving. It gives her some peace knowing that MC can take care of themselves.

Not only MC is powerful, but also smart. Nadia was surrounded by incompetent dumbasses (except for Portia), so she wasn't joking when she said that MC's presence was refreshing. Being around someone with common sense made her life a whole lot better.

As for caring, it was something Nadia had experienced before from her family, because, let's be honest, the Satrinavas never seemed as bad as Nadia portrayed them. Still, Nadia refused to accept their affection and care, which was something she didn't do with MC. It was unusual to her at first and a little scary as well, but being cared for by MC felt so good. It took some courage, yes, but she did enjoy having someone care for her the way she cared for them too.

Loving MC was the easiest thing in the world. Nadia felt it pretty soon after MC came to the palace. It was natural, and there was no need to put much thought into it. Because of that, Nadia needed a catalyst, something that would help her realize her own emotions.

The moment when Nadia truly realizes that she's in love with MC is when Lucio steals their body and she almost loses them. You know how it is. People don't always realize how much something/someone means to them until they lose them, and that's exactly what happened to Nadia.

Suddenly, MC wasn't there, and the world felt empty and dull without them in it. And it hurt. Gayness, did it hurt. If it wasn't for her incredible self-control and because she was more focused on bringing them back, I'm sure Nadia would have had an entire breakdown. Not the pretty princess tears from a Disney movie, but actually crying.

Her heart was aching so bad, and she was horrified of losing them. Was she losing her independence if she felt like she could no longer imagine her life without MC in it? No, she was simply in love, and it was the most heart-wrenching yet beautiful feeling she had ever known in her entire life.

This person, MC, uplifted her in such a short time. Her resentment towards her sisters is almost gone, her memories are coming back, she's a better ruler, and MC has helped her with pretty much everything. MC makes both Nadia and her life better. How could she not love them?

It also made Nadia realize that she had to tell MC about her feelings. To lose them without ever telling them how much she loves them would have been far too tragic. And Nadia didn't want to let go of MC.

#nadia satrinava #countess nadia #the arcana nadia #nadia the arcana #arcana nadia #the arcana #nadia arcana #arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #nadia deserves forehead smooches

[beanghostprincess]

Sanji has helped me in so many ways. I will forever be grateful for the creation of this character. He quite literally means the world to me right now.

(TW: ED/Depression/Suicide attempt mention)

I've always struggled with food. Well, not always. But at the end of middle school (more or less. Give or take. Age 12/13) I became obsessed with what I ate. I still don't know exactly how it started, but I think it has always been a mix of my need to control my life when it's crumbling down and the necessity to look skinny (both things are my mother's fault, mostly. And also lots of things going on at the moment). So I started skipping meals constantly and throwing away food and throwing up. Not gonna get into details, but it ruined my life without anybody knowing until a huge depressive episode came and then I tried to off myself, yadda yadda yadda. Then I just stopped eating food and my meals every day were basically a monster and gum and maybe a piece of fruit. I couldn't even drink milk without crying. Then it got a bit better. Then a bit worse. It wasn't very consistent. And then I started doing exercise but that only made me even more obsessed with calorie intake and healthy food and I still can't drink milk or bread without at least feeling awful about it.

And then I watched One Piece.

I know it sounds extremely silly and dumb, but it has helped me in so many ways. I'm not gonna get into all the things it has done for me, because then I'd have to talk about Robin, Nami, Luffy, Pudding and Buggy which are, like, the characters that have helped me the most next to Sanji, and I would not finish this post.

But Sanji is just so, so important to me.

He speaks about food with such passion. His whole thing about not wasting food literally comes from an experience of starvation and because of the sacrifice his father made for him. He keeps saying he refuses to let people go hungry, no matter what. That we all deserve to eat. He relates food to love and cooking is his whole life. It kind of started as a joke when my brother said "nooo, now you can't waste food because Sanji would be sad" and I- That day I literally ate wayyy more than usual with that thought in mind. And I didn't feel bad afterward for once. And he's just- He just makes me feel so comfortable around food. Which is the normal amount of comfort somebody should have and sometimes it's not even that, but it helps. It helps so much.

Then his whole thing with Germa and the Vinsmokes. It killed me. My relationship with my mother is, uh, you can call it complicated but I fucking hate her so. Yeah. And Sanji's story about rejecting his blood relatives and finding better people who will love him hit so close to home. Him being different. Weak. More emotional. A good person. Sanji refusing to use the name Vinsmoke. It's my whole life. Sanji self-sabotaging himself all the time and constantly sacrificing himself, too? I just can't do it, man, he means the world to me. And then Wano happens and he turns out to have the same body as his siblings but he's still himself. He's still Sanji no matter how much in common he has with the Vinsmokes. And as somebody who's constantly dealing with people telling them that they look like their mom? I fucking love it. I know I look like her and I even act like her sometimes but that doesn't mean I am her. And it doesn't mean she deserves to be part of my family, because she isn't and I can't wait to get rid of her in my life.

It's not only food and family, though. Sanji has helped me accept myself in so many ways too. In the way I perceive others and in the way I act. He has helped me eat. He has helped me realize you don't have to consider your blood relatives family if you don't love them. He has helped me see that my kindness is a strength and not a weak spot.

Not to mention that his whole thing with gender and sexuality, how the fandom portrays him, and how I personally write him has been of so much help in understanding myself. I recently discovered I was a lesbian, and also being genderfluid I just- I just love Sanji so much I be projecting my gender issues and internalized stuff with comphet on him. And let me tell you, it helps.

This whole thing is just something short and sweet I wanted to say because media affects people. In the best of ways. One Piece in general has saved my life in many ways, but Sanji in particular is still helping me every day.

#i love you sanji i love you i love you #i started crying while i wrote this lmfao pathetic behavior sorry sorry i love my boy too much #but one piece is literally my favorite thing i swear i haven't been happier in years #and i still struggle a lot with everything but it's a lot of help #one piece #black leg sanji

[wesleysniperking]

Usopp isn’t an Underdog (TL;DR)

If we really take the time to look at it, in a very practical way. An a**pull isn’t really an a**pull. Or whatever way powerscalers like to get red in the face for.

I think a lot of people and One Piece fans have been going about Usopp in the wrong way. If you feel you haven’t, that’s fine. But for the past couple of weeks when on my break, I came to the realization after reading a book (I’ll give the title later) that when considering the genre One Piece falls under and who it’s catered to, it has indeed been a hindrance for Usopp, and even the writer, Oda. Why? Because Oda is as predictable as he is unpredictable. The same can be said for Usopp.

What do I mean by that?

Before I even get into how smart and great Usopp is, I want to state a point. A lot of people are right, Usopp is inevitably a target. Forget about the Sanji v Zoro rap sessions, or Gear 5's overpowered characteristics. Because copium or not, what Oda is doing to Usopp is intentional. When people say that Oda intended for Usopp to always be the weakest it sometimes bothered me. Not because I want him to be crazy f**kin strong. Or that my expectations are aimless. But that statement always bothered me because it seemed like those people were trying to make it a point to say that there’s nothing left for Usopp. He’s regressed and is fodder. Those two years spent on that island, Boin, with his quirky mentor Heracles was all for naught. Everyone else got these nice trainers, and Usopp’s wasn’t as nearly cool. This pained me to even just think about it. And all this shade is something I'm quoting, I don't believe any of these bad things said about Usopp. I stress this.

But I’m actually starting to embrace this aspect. No, the haters didn’t cause me to resign to their stupid agenda or hate bon*r. But they made me realize (including the book I just read), that Oda is writing Usopp perfectly. I kid you not. It took a whole analysis on David and Goliath to really make me think.

For starters, in general, us mortals (or humans) have a really twisted way of looking at the odds, or the underdog. We often think that the Goliaths are these powerful beings. We think that when we find ourselves up against these stronger people we’re at a disadvantage. Despite the One Piece fandom having a vague idea of what Usopp’s underdog status represents and how Shonen grades “weak characters”, I think this brings forward that fact. Therefore, Usopp is a weak little a**hole no one gives a shit about, and if they do, it’s to prove a point (very passionately indeed) that he’s nothing but fodder and Oda has forgotten about him. But wait. Due to our twisted way of thinking, this is where Oda is challenging us. From the start we were at first under the idea that Luffy was at a disadvantage a few times when he was up against certain villains like Arlong or Crocodile, but Oda and Luffy proved to us a few times afterwards that this small Strawhat had what it took. He had balls.

But Usopp’s journey is much more unique and complex.

I must admit, the Usopp haters sometimes get to me. I’m human. It happens. But after reading the book and a eureka moment happened, I understood that Oda was baiting the haters, HE IS BAITING THE HATERS. He’s baiting his audience. For the last three weeks, it was as though everyone couldn’t stop trash-talking Usopp, I started to go crazy. I spent 5 days straight arguing with this a**hole on YouTube who just wanted to prove and beat into my f**cking head that Usopp is “the butt” of the crew. “He’ll never be as strong as Luffy”, “He spent two years on an island and suffered from Obesity. A joke my friend”, and “Nami’s even stronger than him. He’s useless and disloyal”. Ugh!!! Anywho, I understood after reading the book that a**hats like him are what Oda wants. He’s making fun of and light-heartedly taking advantage of Usopp getting sh*tted upon. One Piece is a Shonen manga, baby! But Oda isn’t a conventional writer (that’s what makes One Piece the GOAT).

So, Oda is taking into consideration how flawed humans are in thinking what a powerful person is. He knows we think the Goliaths are the ones who have a chance of winning, when in fact, the Davids are just as formidable. If he had Usopp “take a back seat” in Wano, it was intentional.

When David stepped out behind that protective barrier to defend his people, King Saul stopped him and said “Dude, there’s no way you’re winning this.” Saul was wrong because he thought Goliath had this fight in the bag. And we know who really had the fight in the bag. And if there’s one thing to very strongly note, one thing to consider in the David and Goliath battle is that David was a projectile fighter fighting an infantryman. David was so talented with a sling that he could’ve shot that pebble through Goliath's head so deep it was practically a hot bullet—the stone/pebble David used equated to a bullet during biblical times. And he did "stun" Goliath. The worst opponent for an infantry fighter is in fact a projectile fighter because infantry fighters require making close contact to land multiple blows on an enemy. But projectile fighters can counteract that quickly with just one shot. Therefore, Usopp is at an advantage more than we think due to Usopp’s quick thinking and ammo as well. He just needs to position himself correctly up against the right opponent, and bang!

So, in this 20+ years journey, Oda has taken advantage of Usopp’s character. He wants US to undermine Usopp so badly. So that when Usopp has his biggest moment, it’ll break the fandom.

“No way! How could Usopp win that?!” “OMG. What a major a**pull!” “Damn, he one shot the hell outta [insert future adversary]!”

That finicky little word, a**pull made its appearance again. But nah, it wasn’t an a**pull.

Why?

Because David was never at a disadvantage when he fought Goliath.

Related Link 1 (more similarities between Usopp and David are discussed here)

Related Link 2

Related Link 3

photo link credit

Work Cited:

Gladwell, M. (2013). David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants. Little, Brown and Company.

#elbaf #elbaf arc #one piece #usopp #op usopp #one piece usopp #god usopp #sniper king usopp #usopp one piece #straw hat usopp #sniper king #captain usopp #David and Goliath #king David #warrior #warrior king #brave warrior of the sea #under dog #underdog #wesleysniperking #anime #manga #interpretation #blog

[desire-mona]

realising none of u have seen my writing before which is. a good thing probably. anyway i thrive best in letter writing format so here's a letter todd wrote to neil after he took a gun induced nap

(obvious tw for death and suicide and general grief adjacent feelings)

-

December 20th, 1959

Neil,

I’ve tried to write this about 7 separate times now, but I feel like I can never get the right combination of words to properly describe how I’m feeling. I don't really know why I’m writing this in the first place, I know you won't be able to read it. I guess I don't need a reason. I don't think I’ll be able to get it right no matter how many times I try, so forgive me if this doesn't make sense.

It's been about 5 days since you killed yourself passed and I still can't confidently say that it feels real. Mr. Keating got fired, Charlie got expelled, Cameron was behind all of it, and I can’t even bring myself to hate him for it. I'm angry, obviously, I’ve never been more furious with anyone in my life, but something in me knows that you wouldn't have hated him either. Things like that have been running through my mind a lot, I find myself operating under what I think you would’ve done, or at least wanted me to do. I hope I’m getting it right. I yelled at Cameron after he ratted us out, and it wasn't like those times before, nobody expected it of me. I like to think you would’ve been proud of me for that.

It's really quiet without you here, in ways that I didn't think I’d notice. You were never all that loud, which I appreciated, but even the small things being gone make me feel like I'm going insane. It's hard getting to sleep without hearing your breathing from across the room. Is that creepy? Sorry. Sometimes I open the window just so I can hear anything but silence. I usually just end up wondering how people can go about their days when someone so important is dead. How are people laughing and enjoying themselves when it feels like my entire world came to a screeching halt? How dare they continue with their lives without even acknowledging how much has changed? That’s about when I close the window, our the room starts to get cold after a while.

I'm trying to stay that more confident version of myself that you were helping me become, I could tell you liked a more outgoing Todd. I think he was buried with you, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to dig him back up. I hope that’s okay, I know how patient you were with me. Thank you for that by the way, you were the first person to give me the time of day when it came to that. It was really special, I wish I had the chance to tell you. There are a lot of things I wish I had the chance to tell you, you were the only person I ever wanted to say things like that to. I'm really sorry that I never did, I realize now that it probably would’ve done you some good to hear it. God only knows how little kindness your father gave you, if I had known how bad it was then I would’ve you deserved better than that. You deserved a lot more than what the world gave you, I think we all do. No amount of sorry’s can fix that.

I miss being near you.

I miss you.

I miss having you around. I’d forgive you if you came back and told us it was all a joke. I wouldn’t be mad at all, I promise.

- Todd Anderson

#desire mona #ugh idk how i feel abt this sorry #is it even in character? #whatever #dead poets society #todd anderson #neil perry #anderperry #writin

[spiderrrling]

Everything I never told you

summary - your best friend eddie tells you something he really wishes he would have told you sooner | 900 words

warnings - so much angst, reader is in the hospital after taking eddies place in season 4

a/n - sad about ruining your hand? channel it into angst, im genuinely so sorry but i think it's some of my best writing in a bit

"Hey there Trouble," his fingers grazed over your cheek, and he swears he can see the slightest twitch in your eye, hope he wishes won't be empty. Falling down in the chair next to you, normally he would be afraid to wake you from your sleep, a fear quickly subsided.

"you know I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to even start talk to you like this," Eddies voice quivered as his hand latched onto yours tighter than before, his burning hot skin against your ice cold, a touch he used to be so familiar with now turned into something grotesque, ugly even.

"you're here, physically I can see you, I can touch you," he squeezed your hand at that comment, "but you, the you that I know isn't here, I can't see that little glint in your eye as you come up with our next prank, I can't hear your laugh as I make the same lame joke for the millionth time, the you that completes me isn't here," his voice shakes again, whatever sliver of control he had mustered up slipped away from the moment he saw you.

"and you know what, I can't help but blame myself for it, it's my fault, I should have stopped you I should have done something, I should have-" his voice breaks, the hand that isn't holding yours covers his mouth in an attempt to conceal the pain slipping through his mask.

He's shoulding himself again, a common occurrence for someone in this state, everything he knew he should have said. The things that slip through the cracks waiting for the perfect moment before re appearing. But there is no such thing as a perfect moment is there?

It's just the lie we tell ourselves when we are too afraid to say what we really want to say.

But if there ever was a perfect moment, Eddie was sure it couldn't be this.

Lidded eyes, pillows of prisine white bandages slowly turning pink, fanned out hair over threadbare hospital sheets.

Nothing can be heard, other than your deep machine made breaths mixing with his panicked shallow ones.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here, another thing I should have done. "But seeing you- seeing you here means it's real, it means nightmares I could not even dare to dream now stand at my doorstep taking the form of you."

His fingers lace with yours, your grip weak and feeble in his. He probably couldn't remember all the times you held hands, but he knew the feeling of your limp hand in his would haunt him for years to come.

"Lots of people have been though, you would laugh if you knew how many bouquets of flowers that line this room, or the amount of stuffed animals," he takes a second to look around the room before continuing "You're so loved, so loved, no one more than me."

"I wasn't sure what to bring you, you'd hate flowers, make a comment about how they'd wilt before you even got a chance to see them. But it wont shock you to know, Wayne figured it out in the end," he paused, using his free hand to pull something from his bag and placing it in a free spot on the table beside you.

A mug.

Blue with flowers.

The one Wayne bought for you after he realized he considered you family.

It was perfect.

"Yeah it's pretty damn good don't you think, beats all the teddy bears bought at the gift shop if you ask me," he was still holding your hand, terrified of letting you go because he didn't know if he would be able to grab a hold of you again only to be met with no response.

"It's my fault-" he repeats again, "it's my fault you're-" dying, he wants to say it, the word stays deathly silent but they might as well be the loudest thing in the room.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for all I did, for all I didn't do, for everything I never told you, for all of it I'm so sorry,"

Did you even know what was happening? He had no choice but to believe you did.

"It's ok if you can't fight anymore, it's ok to rest, I just need you to know the last thing I should have done, I should have told you I love you,"

"Not like I do every day, I am in love with you and that is all that I need you to know. The way you never give up on me, the way you talk to Wayne, the way you make me feel when you look at me as if I'm the only other person you share this world with, I'm in love with all of it." Tears had long ago formed in his eyes while he struggled to choke out the words he wishes for you to know.

"I won't bother you for long, I'll let you rest now," Eddie stood up, pressing his lips to your forehead, letting himself linger for more than he should.

"I love you," he whisperes softly against your skin, before finally dropping your hand back into the tussled bedsheets beneath.

thank you for reading <3 comments and reblogs are very appreciated!!

#eddie munson #stanger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson best friend

[artsyunderstudy]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thanks for tagging me @cutestkilla @ivelovedhimthroughworse @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @valeffelees @emeryhall @monbons @thewholelemon @whatevertheweather @aristocratic-otter @bookish-bogwitch @orange-peony @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @theearlgreymage @ic3-que3n - I definitely shouldn't be procrastinating writing because I'm overdue but I'm a sucker for a good Q&A.

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

I technically have a handful of WIPs I haven't given up on posting but I'm not actively working on. Après la Pluie, le Beau Temps is the one I'm actively working on. I'm in the planning stages with All the Lonely People which is a fic I'm planning to cowrite with @cutestkilla my beloved. Then I have Sober, Water Grey, Close Your Eyes, and A Mild Case of Madness (yes I haven't given up on AMCOM I was actually thinking I'd try and finish it up after I'm done posting Après)

I don't actually work on more than one fic at a time but I also had like a flood of ideas once I was done writing Someone Wicked and that's why the pile of WIPs. Also I was trying to do discovery writing and realized that I hate it.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Why is this so hard???

Okay. Um.

Roommates who (pretend to) hate each other + alcohol induced vulnerability = publicly getting off with each other on a stranger's couch in the middle of a rager, probably to the dulcet sounds of goosebumps by travis scott.

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

Amazingly my current WIP doesn't really require much bracing. But I am still intending very much to complete Sober (working title) which I talked a lot about last year. That would come with warnings for grief, alcohol and sexual assault. Which makes it sound so much worse than it is, but then again I always think that my writing isnt actually that sad but then i have people telling me i ripped their heart out of their chest and chewed on it so im not a good judge of that. i will say it definitely has more jokes than my usual fare.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

I am very decisive when it comes to titles, so I genuinely cant think of anything. I guess Sober, because I'm not sure that's the right title for the fic because it's not about addiction. It's about drunken hookups (and like, definitely some alcohol as a coping mechanism but like, mostly just uni students partying and going too hard as they are wont to do) so I was thinking of making it longer like "Kiss Me When You're Sober" but I dunno. It's not even close to done so I don't have to decide yet.

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Après la Pluie, le Beau Temps is the fic I'm actively working on and I'm going to post this guy next come hell or high water. It's just taking me a while, I'm a bit burnt out. But things they will come.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

All my documents are the fic titles so nothing really fun there.

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

“If you’re going to do this, do you actually trust him? After everything he’s done to you. Everything you’ve done to each other.” I sigh. “I don’t know.”  All the things I’ve always believed I hated about him feel different now, filtered through a new lens. His relentlessness, his sharp edges, his poise. The way he moves across the pitch, and plays his violin, sweet-toned and sorrowful. The singe of his magick.  “I just … see him,” I say quietly. “And I know I want him. The way I’m supposed to.”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

I don't know, I don't think I've scrapped any ideas for this WIP yet? Actually, I think earlier on in the planning I had wanted to have Niall and Dev being absolutely gross with their PDA through the whole thing, but I ended up writing a completely different side-story for them that's genuinely a ton better. Basically, they were a gag, and now they have an actual arc.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Gonna mirror Dre here, we have been planning a fic to cowrite but we both have other fanfic obligations to fulfill first, so it's a little bit on the backburner until we are both freed up. Again, to parrot her, it's a canonverse AU based on a movie we both adore, older (late 30's) strangers to lovers, a ghost story but in a cathartic way, not a scary way, developing relationship. We have a shared trello and I can't help but daydream about it. I am so very very eager to start working on it in earnest.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

One, actively. Two if you count the fic with Dre which we occasionally can't help but get into long discussions about.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

I am currently writing a genre I've never written before which has just been a little daunting. As well as this first chapter has zero simon or baz, probably, and THAT is hard too. But it has to be that way. For the setup. It just means I'm having to learn how to write a lot of side characters in a way I haven't done before, like Niamh and Niall (since i have a bit of experience with agatha and dev)

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

Everyone deserves so many many kudos.

Tags! @hushed-chorus @run-for-chamo-miles @j-nipper-95 @noblecorgi @facewithoutheart and @stitchyqueer <3

#tag game #artsyfic

[brucewaynehater101]

*sasukepose.jpg* I'm starting to realize that Trash!Tim is more like if OG!Cale regressed rather than Kim Rok Soo transmigrating, and rather than Trash!OGCale turning into a decent human, it's the other way around for Tim of turning from decent into trash and---

*lies on floor* I've been going about this all wrong!

Because in my mind, I was thinking Tim in the same way as Kim Rok Soo, because I hc Tim to have hyperthymesia and they both lost so many people but the only reason they're able to survive is because they learned to rely on other people!

And for regressed Tim to throw all that away in his new life, to make sure that the family he loves gets a happy life while he suffers? While he sees a family portrait with him missing from it? While he sits at the table and has Bruno from Encanto's levels of wanting to eat with his family but can only eat with them from afar? I just---

My heart is breaking. Unlike Kim Rok Soo who transmigrated and slowly built a family for himself, it's OG!Cale in the original timeline destroying his relationships with his family to keep them happy and safe. I am in tears.

I was thinking of Dick being Tim's Lee Soo Hyuk, telling Tim that living is best! I was thinking of Jason being his Choi Jung Soo, and Bruce being his Choi Han. Bruce who just lost his son having this sort of darkness in him, and Tim taking a page out of Jason's book and just feeding Bruce till he feels better rather than doing his whole Batman needs a Robin thing from the OG!timeline.

But now, NOW. THINGS ARE ANGSTIER. If in the OG!Timeline Jason and Damian were manipulated to get rid of Tim by Talia, Tim now goes on ahead and puts that target on his back himself. He's doing so well at being trash, he wonders if this is all he's good for in the long run of his life. How long can he keep this up, how long can he keep the gazes of disdain on himself by the people he loves? They don't even know him in this timeline, and that hurts even further.

My thoughts gets to a point where Tim got too deep in being trash that he ends up on a rooftop, looking at the sky and basking in the Gotham sunset. He's beside Jason's favorite gargoyle and he's just standing there.

Jason has plenty of reason to hate Tim, but Red Bat (stupid name, I know, but just to get to the scenario) has no reason to turn someone who may be a rich spoiled brat away.

So, he calls out to Tim. Asks him what's wrong.

Tim doesn't reply. But when he turns his head, Jason could only see how anguished this boy looks. How could a spoiled brat who knows nothing but being trash look so tortured and defeated when nothing even happened to him to look that way?

Or something is. Something might be happening behind the scenes.

That anguished look is instantly replaced with that cocky smirk, but his red eyes full of tears were still on display.

Tim says something, Jason doesn't listen.

It was probably to get a rise out of him, but so much is happening in Jason's head.

"Wanna get some chili dogs?" he asks on impulse.

It shuts Tim up, makes Tim have a complicated look on his face, before settling for what Jason could tell is forced disgust. Because the kids' eyes were widened, his shoulders relaxed. He's hopeful and excited.

Jason grabs Tim and jumps off the roof, grappling to his favorite chili dog stand. The kid didn't even force a scream or demands for a lawyer.

But he did hug Jason tight.

Huh.

Shizz... This kind of makes me want to actually write a bit of an angst fic about the Tim "Trash" AU. You are correct that the entire thing would be angsty, but I imagine Tim's narration of it would be full of jokes. He's be laughing, rolling his eyes, making slightly fucked up jokes about his situation, but he wouldn't go into it. Maybe he'd even convince himself that it's fun to pretend so much. He's a bit of a troll like that and makes internal debates with himself on how fast he can get someone to explode in rage.

But, yeah. I wrote a fic about Tim going back in time and purposefully cutting himself off from the family (and not rejoining them despite helping them). This, though? Him making himself into a public figure he knows his family would despise? Yikes.

It hurts but in a very delicious way.

How much time does he spend hesitating before doing an action that would lower the Waynes opinion of him? How often does he try to ignore his family so he can do what he must (being "trash")?

Hopefully, Tim isn't alone in that AU. I like to imagine he has another persona (maybe his vigilante one, maybe an online one) so that he has at least someone who doesn't hate him

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #thank you for the ask!!!!

[heartingw]

If I lose everything in the fire (I'm sending all my love to you) - Ellie Williams

punk!ellie x volleyballplayer!reader

Warning: pure fluff; weed (mentioned); pining; Jesse being a good friend; Dina mentioned; reader's physical characteristics never mentioned.

Words: 1.3k

a/n: no traumatized Ellie here. I might write something else with punk!ellie because I like it very much

★

Now, Ellie knew hating on athletes was very much cliche of her, but she could feel the stares in her back every time she went to the volleyball court to hand Jesse something (usually food Dina made for him).

Jesse was in the college volleyball team, playing as the setter and the boys' court being extremely close to the girls' court forced Ellie to face a lot of fucking tall girls with ponytails and tight as hell shorts. And Ellie, being the social eremite she was, walked all the way to Jesse with a scowl in her face. She hated when people stared at her and that what basically all the girls in the volleyball team liked doing for some fucking reason.

Yeah, she wasn't like them. Sure, she was a girl, just like them, but she had a full sleeve tattoo, piercings all around, played guitar in her free time not as a joke, smoked weed most of the time and dyed the under half of her head instead of looking for a therapist. And she'd rather die than using that fucking tight shorts.

"Here you are," Jesse greeted her with his usual smile. His teammates gave her a small wave before going back to practice. Ellie wondered how slapping balls was anyhow enjoyable. "Dina told me you were coming. I waited since you hate coming here."

"How nice of you." She scoffed. "Why don't you guys fucking move in together so you won't need a delivery boy all the time?"

"Because U-Haul is a you thing and we're poor college students."

She was ready to taunt him back when Jesse's eyes left her for something in her back. Ellie swore she could feel her bones freeze when she saw you.

So, maybe Ellie didn't hate all the athletic people in the world. There was Jesse, one of the best friends since high school. And there was you. You were the exception. With your fucking pretty face and smile. You fucking soft voice and eyes looking at her. She could remember perfectly the day you talked to her for the first time. Dina begged her to go to a frat party last year and she somehow agreed - it took thirty minutes before she realized she couldn't take it anymore and got up to leave. One of Ellie's biggest problems was that when she was stressed, she had to smoke - guess what a party full of drunk young adults does to you.

"You know, I've always wondered how it tasted, but I don't wanna compromise my performance in the court."

Ellie remember almost screaming when you spoke to her in a oddly polite way. Who says shit like that in a random Saturday night after a frat party? And why didn't she hear you getting closer to her.

She also remembered you dressed up and a very cute way with your pretty legs on display and unsure smile.

It wasn't a friendship. You greeted each other with a small wave or an "hey" in the campus; You have casual conversations when Ellie has to wait for Jesse when he's in a meeting with his team and asked her to wait. She knows your favorite color, your favorite food and movie. She knows you get anxious before every match, but pretends you aren't so you won't scare the youngest ones. She knows you're a libero and you loved playing volleyball since 13 years old.

And she knows you feel uncomfortable with your shorts because a lot of boys in college makes weird 'compliments' about it. Those fuckers.

But it wasn't a friendship. She didn't have your number, for example.

"I'm sorry to bother," your voice sounded embarrassed, "we wondered if you or the manager had a spare key of the storage room. Captain forgot hers at home and we need to get the balls for training."

Jesse nodded, "give me a minute, I think our coach has one."

When Jesse left, you got closer to her. You, with your uniform and easy smile. Ellie could feel her heart beating hard inside her body and her hands began to sweat. She gave a small smile nonetheless.

"Hey there, Williams. Being a delivery girl again?"

"Yeah, you know how it is," Ellie tried to sound non-challenge. "When your two best friend date, you get caught in the middle."

Jesus fucking Christ, your laugh was so beautiful. The way she could see your neck when you threw your head back and your shoulders moved. Ellie couldn't just not look. She wondered if you'd throw your head back like this if she kisses that pretty neck of yours.

Bad Ellie.

"Well, you're not wrong." You said and then shrugged. "Do you mind if I asked you a question?"

"Go on."

"The piercings in your mouth," your eyes were glued in her lips. "Doesn't it bother you sometimes?"

Ellie smiled and wet her lips automatically. You weren't the first person to ask her that. Her snake bites were one of her favorite piercings and it never caused her any trouble. The healing process sucks, of course, but when it's completely healed she felt very confident in her appearance. "Nah, they're good."

"Not even when you're kissing someone?" You lowered your voice a little and your eyes were now focused in hers.

Ellie's mouth opened slightly with shock and the air came out of her lungs as if she was trying to say something and failing. Her brain was malfunctioning, making her eyes blink nonstop. Her fucking lips got dry at the question. Why were you asking that? Just curiosity? What was she supposed to answer?

"I've never kissed anyone with piercings like yours," you got a little closer. "do you mind if I touch it?"

Again, what was she supposed to say? No? If you were anyone else, she'd immediately put you in your place. People just don't go around asking to fucking touch other people's lips or piercings. But you were you. You were the pretty volleyball players who was curious about weed, who didn't like drinking and who made Ellie's heart go boom.

"Y-yeah, I guess." She hated how stupid she sounded.

Soft hands touched her face and delicate thumbs caressed her bottom lip. You were careful with your touch, playing softly with her piercing while staring at it as of it was something incredible. Ellie couldn't help but imagine you pulling her face and kissing her piercings, then slowly moving to mold your lips to hers. Your tongue caressing hers. Would you feel bothered with the tiny steel against you?

"Coach asked you to give it back when you're done!" Jesse's voice came like a lightening hitting Ellie's body. She took a step back and saw you lowering your hands slowly and smiling as if nothing had happened.

"Our hero," you took the keys and turned to leave. Before reaching the doors you looked at Ellie. "You didn't answer my question! Jesse, can you give Ellie my number? I'm really curious." And then, you were gone.

Ellie was paralyzed. You wanted her to have your number. Your hands on her. Your fingers on her lips. You.

"I had more faith in you, now I owe Dina 50 bucks." Jesse's face held a bored expression.

"What the fuck?"

"I bet you were going to make the first move, Williams. You're all tattoos, piercings and black clothes, I believed in you." He said dramatically.

"Are you fucking kidding me, pretty boy? You bet on us? I don't even know if she's fucking gay!"

"Alright, my turn," Jesse crossed his arms. "Are you kidding me? Every single soul on the volleyball court knows she likes you. Why do you think everybody keep tabs on you two? Girl basically asked for a test drive kiss from you right now."

"You fucking saw that?"

"Me and the whole male volleyball team. Coach said he knows you're not an athlete, but you should grow some balls."

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams #tlou x reader #tlou x you #my writing #idk how to write but i enjoy trying #anyway