#realizing just how much he’s encouraged me to genuinely Be Myself

[miss-morland]

.

#hiiiiiiii just crying about how much i love my partner #realizing just how much he’s encouraged me to genuinely Be Myself #both explicitly and just by being himself #i like my hair a lot more than i used to. because his is similar and i realized i actually like how it looks #like if i hadn’t Done Anything to my hair i would usually just tie it back #now i’ll just brush it and it gets super poofy and i go yayy!! yippee!!! #because that’s what his looks like!! and i think it’s cute!!! #all the silly dances i catch him doing. oh and he Does Not Stop when someone sees. he just makes eye contact and smiles and keeps dancing #this is not even to mention the actual ‘just be yourself. they already love you!’ he gifted me with a few months ago #which i still repeat to myself not infrequently. i guess basically an affirmation #whatever this is long. i’m just really happy #they say when you know you know. well when you know they just keep giving you reminders #if any of this doesn’t make sense i plead intoxicated #personal

[dreamwritersworld]

Disconnected… (sully family x reader)

this was inspired by 2 requests sent in so please enjoy! I didn’t link the two requests just cause I didn’t want to spoil it before you read so thank you! 💞

Y/n Sully. I was a happier child…until that light was pulled away and burnt out.

*five year old Y/n*

There was one too many moment where Jake had compared her to her older siblings…

Jake had pulled Y/n by her ear to listen to his words clearly about how she had to heal and be as good as Kiri..

Y/n walked into a separate room clearly in distress while Kiri was calmly sitting down beading a bracelet but she could sense something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“…father keeps saying that I have to be like you but I’m not you.”

Y/n didn’t even give Kiri a chance to talk she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t make her feel better…not even a few moments after both sisters heard their mother talking to another Navi and that just made Y/n more upset.

“Kiri is the most beautiful child ever! We were given her so sudden and I always say to her, Eywa gave me you.”

Whats the softest way to say…you took away my passion…my happiness…what’s the kindest way to say?..you took away my spark.

-*

I had so much potential, had I just been brought up differently given the correct corrections and encouragement I would’ve been something…something meaningful.

*6 year old Y/n*

“Y/n! Hold the knife correctly! Look at the way your brother is holding it! Why can’t you just be smart? Think!”

Y/n was too young to even start early training but…he made her anyways, said “with her like that, she needs at least two years of early training! She needs to think smarter.”

The little girl was buried deep into training when all she wanted to do was continue making friendship bracelets for people…she was such a sweet little girl.

Every time Jake yelled, stood by, or ever so slightly glanced at her she felt slightly scared…it always felt like he didn’t care. Truth was Jake was reckless with her feelings..he didn’t care about how the outcome of his actions would reflect on the young child.

-*

Now I just sit in the comforting silence of the forest.

*8 year old Y/n*

There was one day when I was genuinely scared…terrified of the man yelling in my face..grabbing me, all because I failed at aiming correctly that day..but it was only because he made me stay up the entire night before practicing.

“Why can’t you just think kid?!”

He was pushing for words to come out as tears build up in my eyes.

“You were awful today!”

My own father could sleep peacefully in the fact that he was destroying me. It made him mad, my silence spoke louder than words..anger he wanted to come out of me. All of the sudden a full hand slapped my cheek.

My heart missed multiple beats when I realized what had just happened. That’s the moment I went numb to his actions, I quickly got up..wiped away my tears and went off to train without him. If someone were to ever hit me the way he did that day, I wanted to be ready.

-*

I was dragged through the mud, what’s more to be scared of..? I don’t need them or anyone.

I don’t speak much to anyone…they don’t try speaking to me either so I guess in a way I settled.

*9 year old Y/n*

Jake’s treatment towards Y/n was like whiplash. One second he’d give her slight hope it was ok and then the next second he’d crumble her to pieces.

He put Kiri and Y/n to healing and she was doing really well, until a hard week hit her.

“Y/n. You went from first…to worst in one whole practice! You need to do better, when will you get it?”

All siblings watched as Y/n curled herself in, hiding her head once he left.

They were sad to say they noticed how as the years went by Y/n no longer talked to them…to anyone. Yet all siblings turned a blind eye..maybe it was temporary?

-*

It doesn’t mean that i stay by myself all alone and do nothing, no absolutely not I enjoy adventure, hanging onto life by a thread…

*10 year old Y/n*

I actually used to have a good friend I knew for a short amount of time but sadly…she died. She didn’t know a thing about survival but it was because her father refused to teach her. So I taught her, but i wish I did it sooner, maybe if I did she would’ve lived…

It happened just moments after I taught her how to shoot a gun, she found hidden away.

“You want to see what i found?…will you show me how to use it?”

I was conflicted and confused because i had only learned briefly just once

“Ok…but it is not a toy.”

“I know!”

She pointed the gun up to a random tree turning to me asking what she would do.

“The most important thing is when you go to shoot, take a breathe before you hit the trigger.”

Tílí took this hilarious big breathe, exaggerating it.

“What should I shoot?”

Tílí was so…inexperienced, so much that That she didn’t even know you couldn’t wave around the gun. So I crouched and panicked the moment she aimed it at me unknowingly.

“Don’t do that!”

“I-I’m so sorry i- im sorry!”

Tílí immediately put the gun away but i didn’t even look…i looked at the forest searching for where the walking sounds came from.

“…Tílí..let’s go now.”

I yanked onto her hand and ran, hiding in an old lab, as we ran i could hear the man’s voice,

“Come out! Where ever you are!”

..we weren’t allowed to be in that part of the forest but I followed because she said she wanted to show me the gun.

We both sat down listening to the man whistling…this outsider must’ve been left behind when they were supposed to leave pandora, or perhaps this was the start of them coming back. Adrenaline raced through me that day…I was just a kid.

“I need you to listen to me. we have to go now…are you listening?”

Tílí just sat there, staring at the floor, and scared to move. When I reached out for her again she started talking louder.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Daddy, I’m scared!”

It seemed as though she was stuck in time…like she believed her father would come right that moment, he made her so dependent..so scared.

“Snap out of it, Tílí!..please!”

My brain fogged up believing I wouldn’t be able to save her, I began to get scared. My head turned to the whistling getting closer and then i did what I believed was best..

“Move!”

Tílí felt my hand slap her across the face..and then she rushed up, I got her out first by holding her up to reach the skylight on the roof and then pulled myself up..as soon as we jumped off we ran but the man didn’t fail to notice us.

I ran with her but when we passed she had fallen and so did the gun but…the man shot her in the arm

“Get up Tílí! You have to trust me, I got you!”

Tílí screamed in pain as I yanked her up, catching the gun, and ran. The man was taking his time in catching us..he knew I wouldn’t want leave her…

She had no chance though, her speed was slower but I had to drag her, it left me no time to make turns so the man wouldn’t have a direct area to shoot. I didn’t even have time to hide us so I could kill him then..He had shot her in the chest.

“No don’t- Y/n! Daddy!!”

“No! Tílí!”

I instantly turned back and hid shooting the man from getting closer…my body went tense as I walked closer to Tíli, her body was shaking and hyperventilating.

“No, please Tílí! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! Your my best friend…I’m sorry.”

I stayed in the forest crying, left with her body.

-*

That trauma didn’t go unnoticed. Mo’at could see that something was wrong with Y/n. It terrified her to see her grandchild’s downfall, she knew that Y/n would one day turn her back on her father for training and giving her pain so many years. Y/n wouldn’t let anyone even touch or stand by her…Mo’at wasn’t even an exception, no matter how much she wanted to heal those little wounds on her grandchild’s rough fingers and knees from training. She could see the pain Y/n was working through, the back pain from constantly doing tricks in training…suppose it was the reason Y/n was the best but it doesn’t mean it’s ok.

Y/n had been sitting on the floor, making medicine while Mo’at observed her…Neytiri walked in the room with medicine Kiri made from home.

“Kiri made some medicine for healing, mother.”

Mo’at hushed Neytiri and pulled her to the side, still keeping an eye on Y/n.

“We must talk..”

“About?”

“Y/n-“

“Oh mother please, no need to worry about that child she-she’s fine. She remains happy at home as well.”

“Really? If that were true, that child would feel safe enough to make medicine from home.”

“Mother. You cannot possibly be insinuating that-“

“Shh. It’s just Y/n, there’s something cold behind her eyes…”

Mo’at walked away leaving Neytiri wondering…she too watched Y/n while she unpacked the medicine Kiri was making from home…

After helping grandmother I had stayed out a little but I only came back late five minutes after eclipse and brought back food that I hunted for. I could feel him and his stares..how he was so fixated on me and what i was doing now that he wasn’t playing ‘olo’ekytan’.

“You staying out late again?! I already told you, your forbidden from staying out! You think bringing food back home will make it better?!”

I couldn’t listen. My hand automatically dropped the food off by my mother and I immediately walked back out the home entering the forest, too annoyed to deal with him…he didn’t stop though.

My feet walked faster, heart began beating louder and my eyes just kept looking forward, not turning back.

“You come back here right now. I mean it Y/n stop!”

I couldn’t..for the first time in a long time..i just wanted to stop, to look him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you right now, You’re-“

Sometimes my mind just fogs up and forgets my morals…just like him. I turned right around, banging my hand into a tree just to push him to listen.

“Stop! I’ll walk home sir just- stop.”

He continued mumbling words, yanking me by the ear, i allowed it…im not at my break point just yet. As we entered the home he threw me onto my hammock and i just accepted it, staring at the sky…the other thing about numbness is that it kinda collapses time…suddenly i find my whole days blending together creating this endless and suffocating loop, training is all I do…

“Dinners ready!”

My transit stopped and i got up slowly, sitting in my little corner. There was never space at our dinner area for me..so I just ate alone. Then i did my chores as normal, slowly walked up to my bed sighing at the fact that i didn’t have the warmth everyone else did. Mother seemingly forgot to request a new blanket for me and I didn’t make enough time to craft items to trade something in for it..so I’ll settle on the rough blanket with seeking holes.

The next day I was told to do hunting with Neteyam in the forest…we didn’t talk much, which made it easier for us to hear outside noises..Then a man came but wasn't normal navi, he was an avatar and he held a gun, seemingly scare almost like he got lost.

"Shoot 'em"

Neteyam couldn't pull the trigger, but I didn't have the patience and i shot the man in the leg...then the hip.

I walked slowly to him.

Neteyam slightly tugged on me to just walk away and not interfere...but i just couldn't…something was wrong.

"Cmon let's go."

“Shut up Neteyam.”

He was annoyed but he just didn’t understand what the situation was so I kicked the man repeatedly until he was begging me..and when he did I asked some questions.

“Who are you with? You are not normal Navi.”

Then he spitted in my face mumbling about him swearing and being loyal, I shot him in the head with my arrow.

“Idiot.”

We walked away in silence but i can tell In his face what i had just done bothered him..he’ll get over it though right? He’s supposed to be the strongest warrior. The noises weren’t done..we could hear our siblings voices as we walked away. Neteyam called for our parents but i couldn’t stay put like he did.

Neteyam was behind a tree ready to shoot an arrow but he hadn’t realized a soldier approaching so I jumped down from the branch stabbing repeatedly into the man’s neck quick to make it silent..i hid once again when I saw a soldier head our way..he hadn’t noticed the body, just grabbed Neteyam, snapping his bow into half.

I began killing all 3 soldiers around hidden in the trees pointing guns at my siblings who were on their knees.

My eyes landed on the two fallen guns and i shot 6 while they blindly shot in a panic…i didn’t see anyone else, my siblings had ran into my parents arms. I was covered in blood..fixated on two missing soldiers…

Quaritch watched from a far, he could see Y/n held zero mercy…she was the one who shot their soldier who got lost in the forest. If she was so cold…he’d be able to get to her, get through her head.

He made sure the soldier beside him stood up first, aiming a gun at Y/n and then he shot him…setting up a scene of him “protecting her”.

Y/n held her gun to him…but for a minute she seemed in awe, she was stuck in time..she felt like she knew who this man was, somehow and in some way she heard stories about him when she was listening to her parents conversations…as did he. The reason he knew about Y/n was because before they were sent back to the forest, they discussed the little information they knew about the sully family, Y/n sully being one of them. In all honesty he hoped he’d walk into her, she was a kid who he believed could easily be ended or manipulated, because Jake never loved her, no one did. Hints why back at the fort they referred to her as the ‘the child with no love’.

If he got her on his side, he’d be unstoppable and be able to kill her father with zero hesitation. He knew he needed her trust first so he dropped his gun, left himself defenseless.

“I won’t kill you kid. Those soldiers that you just killed, well I wish it was different I do but they were weak of will and character.”

Y/n was patient this time…this man wanted to actually listen and talk to her but then again she didn’t care, he held let them hold a gun to innocent peoples heads.

“You know what I wish? I wish I had killed you too. I still can.”

“Yet you haven’t, you think any of those soldiers would have the balls to say something like that. There’s no way you could’ve lasted this long by yourself, otherwise.”

He was wrong because Y/n was brutal when she had to be. But Quaritich seems to take the brutal mindset Y/n had to the furthest extreme. However what Quaritch does goes far beyond being brutal he was just ruthless ..And no one who is ruthless deserves to live. Y/n still let the man go on..trying to pick her poison.

“We’re more alike than you think. In fact I think you realize it…but you’re not comfortable with it yet.”

That’s where Y/n ended it she shot him in the leg, aimed right by his lungs…and then her bullets ran out. Jake was watching from afar…he saw the entire conversation…on his way back he saw the bodies on the floor with multiple stab wounds, and he watched how she walked up to him with a knife. Then..he was spotted by Quaritch.

“Jake-“

“Y/n! I’ll handle him. You don’t need to do that.”

Quaritch chucked at the oblivious father.

“That girl’s already seen more than you can imagine.”

Y/n turned to her father, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. That’s not your decision.”

“Atta girl, she ain’t afraid to look me in the eye like you Jake. You know that feeling you got right now? That's what makes you stronger than the rest of them kid….”

Y/n knew his words were true..but she was getting annoyed at the man who was repeatedly talking..letting all her thoughts out to her father..so she stabbed him in the neck, Repeatedly. Jake watched in horror, it was then that he realized he stabbed her in the back repeatedly as well…he made her a killing machine. She disconnected with the world more than usual and she didn’t even feel affected by it.

Everything felt slow..metal from the knife clinging with the soiled floor..blood covering her body. Y/n looked at her father, she wanted him to see her and the gore she created.

“this is what you’ve made me become.”

!💓!

Fun facts!

Kiri was making friendship bracelets at the age Y/n wasn’t allowed to!

Tílí was a reflection of what Y/n would’ve been if she hadn’t grown up quicker.

I didn’t show much of happier Y/n because her memories would be very faded from that time..she started to grow faster at age 5.

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir r @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul l @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @mxn14 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @onetwo123three @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @eskamybeloved @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon @kodzukenwhore @minkyungseokie

#angst #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #loak x reader #neytiri sully #sully family x reader #avatar loak #avatar the way of water #sully family x daughter reader #Spotify

[sysmedsaresexist]

I spoke with Colin Ross again.

The original post, for those who missed it.

This is going to be really disjointed and rough. I've been put in a really weird position and I want to just... talk about it. This is okay to reblog, I'm sure there's pro/endos that have been waiting for this. Unfortunately, it's going to be attached to a vent.

Sadly, talking to him brought up a lot of bad feelings. I'm still so sad to see so many people turn on me. I'm disappointed that there was so much pushback. I'm disgusted by people's hypocrisy.

People wanted to know why I wasn't posting my side of the emails to Colin Ross, they tried to say he didn't believe those things anymore.

So I emailed him again, recapping our previous conversations, and asking him if he still believed in non traumagenic plurality.

And he responded that he does.

I thought I could post it, and that would be the end of it. Proving we had spoken before, confirming the topics discussed. But in my email to him, I shared what I've been doing since I last spoke with him, what prompted me to reach out to him again. The same thing that stopped me from posting my side of the emails originally. I wasn't entirely honest with him, either. I don't think I would have gotten a response if I had talked about tumblr.

And I'm simultaneously so excited and so scared.

This is a man that, in a very vague sense, formed a mentor/professional relationship with me. Our interaction overall was brief, but it was exciting to discuss his work with him, ask him questions that had been bothering me-- I told him about myself, my educational and work background. I used my real email and name. My real school. He's Canadian, we talked about it. I shared real details of my life, and while it wasn't necessarily in confidence, I don't think he would appreciate knowing that I've shared his personal thoughts and emails on tumblr, of all places. I'm not lying or hiding anything in my side of the conversation.

I'm scared.

I'm terrified to post anything that could be linked to me. Even posting this, I'm like, "can people like... reverse edit my picture and get my email?" I genuinely don't know.

I worry about posting the full screenshots with his email, knowing people won't believe me if I don't, but not wanting to have these ridiculously immature people in his inbox. I have encouraged people since day one to find his email themselves and reach out. I figure that the only people who would put in that work are the people who genuinely want to learn.

But then I realized that there are people that could ruin the relationship I made with him.

People that could make it so that I can never contact him in this way again.

People could use this to find me, if they get Colin Ross talking. (The rational part of my brain says he's smart enough not to give someone else my name, but goddamn, some of you people are actually dangerous)

There are people that want to do that to me. People that hate that I even brought a professional into this conversation. And I get it. I sat on the original conversation for almost three years, remember?

It's really scary to admit you're wrong, that you've been close-minded and hardheaded. It's scary to confront your bias and actions.

But having him respond to me... I feel so lucky? Not that Colin Ross is a saint, but how often do you get to meet someone like him? How often do you have a chance to take advantage of a professional contact that seems willing and happy to have these kinds of conversations with you? Three years later and he remembered me. He took the time to answer me, again.

I don't want to fuck that up.

So I thought about reaching out to certain people, showing them the entire set of emails without any blockout and having them vouch for the authenticity.

Then I realized that I wouldn't trust any of you anti endogenic systems with any of my information after how you've all behaved.

And I realized that none of you are going to change your minds, no matter what I show you, and I'd rather to maintain my professional relationships than put any more effort into any of you.

And I know if I wait too long to post this, people will call it fake, so I either need to go ahead and make this post or just kind of let it disappear into obscurity.

It's so important, though.

Isn't it?

I can't tell anymore.

#syscourse #not syscourse #pro syscourse conversation #pro endo #pro endogenic #anti endo #anti endogenic #cdd #cdd system #did #osdd #osddid #debunk #vent #okay to reblog #actually traumagenic #actually plural #plurality #pro system #pro respect

[sunnysidestories]

Introductions Pt 2

Pt 1

Pt 3

Summary: Reader is a vigilante on young justice who goes to the same school as Walls. Only Wally doesn't know the readers identity, but she knows his. SLOW BURN

Wally West x Fem!Reader

"Hi, I'm Wally West. It's nice to meet you."

As his voice rang in my ears, and he seemed to look back at his book, my heart would begin to race. I sat there for a moment too long, so I quickly would pick up my own voice, even if it cracked. "I'm y/n l/n. It's nice to meet you too." He doesn't know. He can't know.

Wally would once again look back up from the textbook, his eyes seeming to scan along my face. "You're not new. I know you." shit. "Well, I just changed classes, not schools. I've been at Keystone my whole life. I'm just not the most popular person."

"Oh cool, I hope you like the advanced course. If you ever need any help I'll gladly give you my number. Science is one of the only things I seem to be good at." he genuinely doesn't know? I'm glad, at least this is my chance. Let's find out who Kid Flash is under all the spandex.

He's a nerd. He's a total nerd.

Often, before class, I would find myself in a conversation about the latest scientific fact, most of them being obscure. He seemed to always speak with his hands, a grin never leaving his face. I found out his uncle is a forensic chemist, which helps explain his passion for all things scientific. Even if he didn't outwardly say it, I could tell he meant a lot to him. But when the class would eventually begin, Wally would totally shut off the conversation, rarely continuing it over a note. He took the class very seriously.

He's not exactly how I would have expected him to be. Compared to how he is as Kid Flash, he's much more sporadic. He seems to always lead a conversation, which I don't always mind, but when he asked me about what I liked one time, he didn't interrupt. He let me rant for a while before I realized what I was doing, though he only encouraged me to go on with a smile.

...

"So that's why I've got to go to Central City for the week." Wally lied about some other excuse for a mission. It felt wrong knowing he's really going to fight crime. I have no room to talk, really. I'll be busy at Keystone myself. I wonder how much of it is actually a lie and how much is really fact.

"It's fine, I understand it's not your fault, but i'll miss you." Wally seemed to avoid eye contact almost if my comment had made him uncomfortable. I was telling the truth though, I would miss him. Even more than I would like to admit. I didn't pressure him about it further as the class went on.

But when it was time for us to take notes from the textbook, and the whole class was sent on their own, Wally would slide me a folded piece of notebook paper. He didn't even look at me, so if any outside eyes had seen the exchange, it would look as if he was returning something of mine. I would quietly open the slip to be greeted by Wally's hastily written writing.

Hey, text me the work I'll miss next week

My eyes scanned the page only to land on his number at the bottom. He could just get it from the teacher, but the fact he trusted me enough with his perfect grade was flattering. Wally's handwriting is another one of those things I didn't think would differ from note to note. Ones he had the time to write at home are always much neater, though his handwriting is much bigger than normal standards would accept, I don't mind. The notes he writes me at school are always messy, almost like he's trying to write faster than he can but doesn't want to use his speed, so in the end, it's just much slopper. If one didn't know Wally, they could rightfully assume the contrast between his writing could be the work of two different people.

Sure, but is it just for the notes right?

I would put in my own words under his before slipping it back to him. He would immediately slide it back into my hands. I didn't even think he wrote anything until I opened it again. This time, his handwriting was perfectly placed, almost as if it was typed.

Yes.

I tuck the paper in my jacket pocket, I'll put it in my drawer with the rest when I get home. I feel bad about throwing them away, so they sit in my bedside table, its not like anyone would ever go into my room and find them anyway. Sometimes, I like to read over them before I go on patrol. It reminds me of our conversation at the warehouse. One where I'm not as alone as I think I am.

Yet the nervous tapping of Wally's pencil brings me back to the class. He taps it ten times before flipping the pencil back over, continuing to write. No matter what, he seemed to always tap it ten times. In a way, it felt like he knew I zoned off. It was him bringing me back to everything. Even if it wasn't intentional. Wally fidgets a lot when he tries to focus or distract himself, the repetitive movements being a form of comfort.

...

It's Tuesday now, and I'm perched on top of a building in full gear. My phone sits in my hand with Wally's contact staring back at me. I need to text him the work from yesterday. I haven't even said hello yet. Hello is too formal, we are friends, a hey would fit better.

These past two days have been abnormally quiet. His empty seat in class is only a reminder of why he's really gone. I hope he's okay.

FLEETFEET

Hey, it's y/n. Here's the work from yesterday and today. Hope everything is okay in CC

2 attachments  sent 11:20 pm

I would sit there for a bit, looking at the screen. Maybe he's already on some sort of mission. Why is texting so stressful? As soon as I started to shut off my phone, it would light back up with his reply.

FLEETFEET

2 attachments seen 11:27 pm

Hey y/n! Central City has

been pretty cool, my Uncle Barry

showed me around his work at Star Labs today. That place is surprisingly

really huge. Thanks for sending

the work.

Seen 11:27 pm

Sooooo wyd?

Seen 11:28 pm

Its almost midnight, he should really go to sleep. I should really start patrol. This really isn't a good idea.

Nothing much hbu? just watching

traffic go by. I swear I've seen three

crashes in the span of two

hours ppl r wild.

Seen 11:31 pm

Dude you should see it here.

Traffic is actually so slow it

makes me want

to scream. We sat at a

red light for 4 whole mins.

Seen 11:31 pm

Oh. My. God. 4 whole mins?!1!

How can they do that to you!

Don't they know who you are!!!

Seen 11:33 pm

The hottest guy alive thats who.

Seen 11:34

I couldn't help but laugh at his statement. Typing back a quick 'pls lol' before turning off my phone. It was getting too late I needed to start. I wish he was here, sometimes I could get a glance of the yellow and red highlight speeding by back home, on this road, about this time. He never worked late at night. That was more left up for the other heros, ones like me. I look to the streets, the dim lights from the lamps only shone back with a faint glow. No streak of color to be seen, but a part of me hoped it would still apear.

My night was full of stopping petty crimes, luckily I didn't have to go against any metahumans, but still like any other night everything would start to hurt after a certain threshold. Inbeetween threats I would find myself checking to see if Wally had kept our conversation going.

He did.

Until 4 am.

He was asking me mostly about myself, which was weird in a way. But in another, it made sense. The questions were more deep then anything since he already had asked the basic getting to know each other questions months ago. In the end, though, he stopped the conversation telling me to head to sleep, as I had school in the morning. Which was true. Even after patrol, I was still texting him from the comfort of my home, but I would eventually listen, heading to get some rest.

The week would continue the same as the night before. I was sending Wally the work and him dragging on our conversation throughout the night, but never long enough for the sun to rise the next day. On Saturday was when one of his messages caught me by surprise.

FLEETFEET

Are you free to call?

Seen 1:12 am

Before I could even protest how that could be a bad idea or how that might reveal who I was, his contact was flashing onto my screen along with his picture. I place the phone to my ear and answer it. I hoped the interstate couldn't be audible up from here.

"I told you shes not going to- hey! Hey..."

Wally's voice picks up on the other line, he seems to be in some sort of living room, as the hum of a television can be heard in the background as well as someone else having a conversation.

"Hey Walls? What's up?" My voice sounded strained from not speaking for hours, I hoped Wally couldn't tell. "Oh, um, I was just wondering about some of the work you sent me. Like you took the photos of the work perfectly okay, but in the background, I saw something." At the word something, his voice would slightly jump.

Did I leave my equipment in a photo? was my reflection shown? Was it something he wasn't supposed to see?

"Yeah It's-It's going to sound really stupid. What... what were those papers spread out on your bed?" Oh. Ohhhhh no. The notes, I left out his notes on my bed. I must have got some of them into the frame. I quickly opened out a chat to the last photo. There they were. Luckily, they were not in focus, so he couldn't really tell what they said, but still. There they were.

His voice would start up again after my second of silence. "Are they really swamping you with that much work?" "Yeah, yeah. My other class, a big final its uh its is coming up, so I was studying the notes." I let out a sigh of relief. "But that's not your handwriting? It actually kind of looks like-"

"Wally, I have to go. I'll see you Monday at school."

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

That was terrible. He would never let me live that down if I told him I was keeping such things. That even more was embarrassing, I have to explain why I had to go. And I have until Monday for these excuses. Which is technically tomorrow. Fun.

...

I was saved. I got called into a mission before school at Mt. Justice. Even though Wally would be there, y/n technically wouldn't. When I arrived, he was already in costume talking to Megan about something. He still did the thing with his hands while he spoke. Making his statements larger than life and thoroughly exaggerated. "I just don't know what to do. I trust her more than anything, I wish she would just tell me. It's not like im going to judge her. She knows that. I mean, you heard the conversation. "

His back was turned to me, so I couldn't see his face while he went on. Although I knew what he was talking about. "Hey Megan. Hey Wally." I waved at the two while I walked past them to the kitchen. "H/n! You're a girl. I need advice. What do I do when my friend is keeping stuff from me." I would stop and slowly turn around to his pleading gaze. "Walls, aren't you keeping stuff from her? You have to trust her in that sort of regard. Give her time to open up."

"Thats...Fair." Wally would drop himself back to normal as my words got through to him. "Besides, it took me a while to realize I trusted you." Both in and out of costume. I do. I trust him more than anything. More than anyone.

So I should have told him. He said he wasn't going to judge me, and I know he wouldn't have. I let my emotions get the better of me at the moment, If he asks again, I'll tell him the truth. No matter what.

...

The mission went by with a breeze, the biggest threat being now as Robin sent Wally falling towards me at full speed. I ended up catching the both of us before he could send us tumbling over a building. I held us there for a while, my arms wrapped around him in a hug. He just looked at me. His heightened breathing trailed my neck as he grasped onto my arms. He didn't admit it, but he was scared, I was too. Fifteen stories were a lot to fall from.

The other heroes, as well as criminals, paid us no attention, too occupied in their own fights, as I held Wally at the edge of the roof. One of my feet hanging halfway off. I was closer to falling than he was. My back was to the city.

"Hey, h/n." Was all he said as his face began to knowticablely regain too much color. "Hey West." Wally would move his head to rest in the crook of my neck as he tried to calm his rapid breathing. He told me late at night over text one time he was scared of heights.

As I started to try to move us back away from the edge, Wally would only plant himself in my hold even more. I needed to help him snap back into the situation. Before he messed up and tipped us over.

"Wally. You've never asked me who I am before." Trust. He needs to trust me. "Be...Bec..Cause! You're not comfortable... ye-yet."  Inbeetween words, he would let out large audible gasping. "You won't judge me, right?" He shook his head side to side, keeping his eyes remained shut. I would let out a sigh of my own.

"I trust you. Kid Flash, I need you to trust me. Not only as h/n but as y/n. y/n l/n. The one who's going to get you off this roof. Back to the ground floor."

#wally west x reader #wally west #young justice x reader #young justice imagines #young justice #kid flash #kid flash x reader

[ch3rryc4ndy]

Pretty When You Cry

Relationship - Haechan X Fem Reader

Genre - Smut and Angst

Summary - A bad breakup ends you up at your best friend's house crying but to your surprise, she wasn’t home. Her brother you’ve denied your feelings for since childhood makes you realize you never needed your ex in the first place.

Warnings - choking, unprotected sex, cheating (ex), and that’s pretty much it. Let me know if there’s anymore!

Masterlist

I rush to winters house as tears run down my cheeks. I hit my steering in anger, my first relationship and I got cheated on…

The worst thing is I would’ve never expected this from Kun, he was always an affectionate loving boyfriend, always made me the center of his world. I loved him at some point of the relationship. I feel rage rush through me as I think of how stupid I was. I should’ve listened to winter and even hyuck warned me about him, but even with two people telling me no I didn’t listen

I pull into winter's driveway as tears continue to stream down my face “winter” I yell as I walk in knowing their parents were on a trip “she isn’t her- what happened?” I hear hyuck say from the kitchen as he pokes his head out the corner, now walking towards me

“He cheated” I smile weakly trying to make it less awkward now that I know winter isn’t here but her annoyingly handsome brother is, aka the cause of my annoyances since I was 10. “What did I say, he is no good” he sighs as he pulls me into a hug

I close my eyes as I take in his intoxicating scent and warmth “please don’t rub it in my face right now” I groan as I know I’d be hearing him brag about being right “I know I can do that later” he chuckles as I push him back slightly embarrassing as I see my tears left a wet spot on his shirt “sorry” I sniffle as I point at his shirt

“I don’t care” he replies with an eye roll, pulling me onto him again. “Why don’t we grab some snacks and watch a movie in my room like we did in the old days?” He coos as he pulls me into the kitchen “old days? You act like we’re 80” I laugh as he rolls his eyes “well I do hope you like me even when I’m 80” he pouts as he holds his hand to his chest “I’ll always like you” I coo as I hit his shoulder

“Good” he hums as we grab a few snacks from the pantry and make our way up to his room. I throw myself on his bed and let out a loud sigh as I feel the warmth of his blankets on my skin “I’m going to check if winter has any extra clothes I can borrow, I’ll be back” I groan as I get up from the comfy bed

“here just wear this” he says as he throws one of his baggy tees “thanks” I smile as I walk into his bathroom and lock the door. I take off my shirt and pants, leaving me in my panties since the shirt I was wearing didn’t corporate with the bras I had. I put on hyucks shirt and look in the mirror and sigh as I realize how good of a guy hyuck was

Although he was a pain in my ass he’s never made me genuinely mad to the point every other guy has which was pretty impressive. Winter knows about how I felt about him in the past and always encouraged me to date him but I would be embarrassed if I told him how I felt and got rejected by one of my longest friends and HER brother…

I would’ve much rather have had him as my first boyfriend than Kun. Although I loved Kun at a point he never really made me feel safe. There is a difference between thinking your emotionally secure and feeling safe which hyuck both gave rather than one

“You ok in there?” I hear him yell as I snap out of my thoughts “yeah I’m ok” I reply as I grab my clothes and walk out of the bathroom, now being faced with a shirtless hyuck in boxers on the bed. I drop my shirt as I feel my cheeks burn red “sorry it’s cold in here” I chuckle as I turn around and place my clothes onto his desk “mmh” he slyly hums as I look at him slightly embarrassed

“So what do you want to watch?” He hums as he flips through Netflix “something scary” I reply as I lay on the bed, tucking myself under the soft blankets. Hyuck nods and flips through the horror section, clicking on the conjuring

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know Kun was cheating on you?” He asks out of the blue but not taking me by surprise “I walked into him fucking some girl I’ve never seen before” I sigh “wow that’s pretty low even for him”

“I don’t get why some guys never see how lucky they are. I mean if I was him, another girl is the last thing I’d think about” he chuckles, freezing as he realizes what he just said “wh- I- I mean I’m kinda glad I caught him in a way…at least another girl would have to deal with his horrible sex” I shrug as I try and change the topic as I see hyucks cheeks a bright shade of pink from his comment

“Now that is not surprising” hyuck chuckles as he takes a bite of a cookie “at least now I don’t have to deal with the unsatisfying sex” I sigh as I grab a cookie and take a bite “like I said if I was him that wouldn’t have happened” he says now more confidently than the first time “why do you keep saying if I was him” I chuckle as I turn to face hyuck

“Because if I were to date you I’d make sure you’d never be unsatisfied in any way” he purrs “isn’t that nice to know” I chuckle as I nudge his arm with a smile “you know I’ve always kinda had a crush on you but knew you wouldn’t be interested” I sigh “what?”

“I’ve had a crush on you but I k-“ I repeat but get cut off by his lips crashing onto mine, a quiet moan slipping past my lips as I feel his teeth bite my bottom lip and then go back to ravaging my lips “hyuck” I moan out as I his hands roam all over my body

He pulls back, taking in my flushed complexion and my legs wrapped around his waist as he hovers over me “why didn’t you tell me that earlier” he groans as he moved a strand of my hair out of my face “I thought you wouldn’t feel the same so I spared myself the embarrassment” I smile as he sits back onto the bed

“You thought I’d reject you? Did you genuinely not get the signs I gave you?” He sighs as he runs his hands through his hair “what signs?!” I ask confused “well I- I…I guess it was as me just being mean”

“Wow, that was super obvious to me hyuck” I joke. I look at him confused as he sits and looks me up and down “what the hell was that for” I say with my arms crossed “I really like you in my shirts, especially with no bra” he winks as he pulls me onto him “also is it wrong to say I like seeing you cry, well I don’t enjoy seeing you sad but you look pretty when you cry” he coos

“That’s why you asked me to watch a movie with you mmh?” I purr as his hands snake their way onto my hips “maybe” he shrugs as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, putting us chest to chest. I slowly rub myself onto his lap, trying to make it seem like I was getting comfortable as I feel his hard cock through his boxers

He lets out a groan as I slightly bounce on his lap to get more “comfortable”

“I know what you're doing” he purrs as he grips my jaw “what do you mean?” I ask innocently causing hyuck to Scoff “it’s warm in here” I purr as I pull my shirt over my head. I hear his breath hitch as I purposely arch my back to make my nipple almost touch his lip. He looks up at me and smiles, taking my nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting all over my boobs “fuck” he whines as my hands tangle into his hair

I let out a whimper as I feel my body touch his “can I?” He asks with a raised eyebrow as he taps my inner thigh hinting at my panties “yes” I whine out as he wastes no time lifting me and dragging my panties down my legs. I feel two of his fingers run through my folds causing me to shake from the sudden touch

I look at him, his eyes closed as he takes in how wet I am. He holds his breath to listen to my wetness as he slowly rubs my clit “fuck” he hisses as he shoves two fingers into me, a loud moan spilling from my lips as his cold rings make me shiver

I bounce on his fingers slowly making him chuckle as he looks up at me and sees the lip between my teeth and my hands gripping onto his shoulders “god your gorgeous” he purrs as he kisses my shoulder with a smile

“Please hyuck” I whine out as I feel myself need more than just his fingers “mmh?” He hums “I want you in me, your cock in me” I whimper out “beg” he purrs as he moves his boxers down his thighs “please hyuck I need you in me, I want to feel you cum in me, I want y-“ I whine as I get cut off with a hard thrust

My eyes roll back as I feel his cock filling me, my walls squeezing him tightly as we moan out in pleasure, the sound of his moans making me wetter and hornier each time he whines and moans. “Fuckkk y/n” he hisses as his pace quickens, his grip on my hips tightening and slamming me harder onto his lap

“Oh my- g-“ I whimper out as I feel my juices drip down my leg, the sound of his cock slipping in and out making me smile. Hyucks lost in the pleasure as he pounds into me harder, gripping my neck tightly. The feeling of his cold rings on my neck making me whimper

My thoughts go fuzzy as I feel my orgasm building, the feeling of him tightly gripping my neck making it build up faster. My eyes lock with his as my mouth falls open, a silent cry coming out as my walls clench around him, shaking uncontrollably as his grip on my neck starts to make my ears ring, and my breaths get harder to catch as I grip onto his wrist

His grip loosens enough for me to let out a cry of pleasure, the feeling of him continuing to ram into me making me whine “I know baby it feels so good doesn’t it?” He whimpers into my mouth as he pulls me down and kisses me “your going to be the death of me” he purrs as he smiles at the sight of my saliva dripping down my chin and tears streaming down my face

“Fuckkk” he moans out as he feels me squeeze around him once again, no noise coming out of my mouth as my eyes roll back. I feel his seed spill into me making the squelching sound from my cunt louder “one more” he purrs as his thrust continue, my eyes widen from the fact that he could go another round after just cumming

“I- ca-“ I try and mutter out as the overstimulation starts to get too much “you can take it, just one more baby just one” he pouts as he moves my hair out of my face

One more turned into I’ve lost count as he pumped me full of his cum, just for him to fuck it out of me and fill me up again, my brain was fuzzy and dizzy with pleasure. His thighs were covered in our juices, the thought of us being too loud never coming to mind as he continued to fuck me senseless

“Hy- hyuck” I whine out as I shake yet again, crying out as he breaths heavily onto my neck, his thrusts getting sloppier as he fills me up again, his pace slowing as I fall onto him. I stay wrapped around his cock for a few minutes as we both take in everything that happened “you okay?” He asks as I lay on his chest as he pulls out of me causing me to shiver. We lay on the bed as I kiss his chest “mmh” I nod weakly as he moves my hair out of my face

“As much as I’d love to stay like this let me get you cleaned up” he coos as he lays me on the bed and gets up. He lifts me off the bed, carrying me to the shower as he kisses my cheek “you did perfect for me” he smiles as he turns on the water. “What about your sheets?” I ask as I stand up and let the water run down my face “I have an extra in my closet don’t worry”

“shit I’m sorry” I hear haechan sigh as he moves my hair off of my neck and sees bruises from his grip “It’s ok” I smile as I already know I’d be marked, not only on my neck but probably all the places his hands and teeth were “it’s not okay, I should’ve never lost that much control” he replies with regret “trust me you could never hurt me, and I liked how rough you were” I purr

He smiles worryingly and nods “just trust me you’ll let me know if I get too rough okay? Our code word can be red” he says reassuringly as he kisses my shoulders and forehead “I will” I smile as I hug him, letting the water run down both of us as he holds me up for balance just in case.

“This is all I could ask for”

#haechan #haechan fanfic #haechan smut #kpop smut #nct dream #nct smut #nctzen #hyuck smut #hyuck x reader #hyuck #haechan angst #smut #haechan x reader #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut

[sage-green-matcha]

THINGS I WISH YOU SAID - ETHAN LANDRY 💌

“Without you here, I don't know what to do with myself. I think about these things at night before I fall asleep. Things I wish you said to me” - Sabrina Carpenter

Content includes: Angst, cutie Ethan, Ethan comforting you!

<3

<3

<3

Music played as you swept the floor, golden sunlight shining into your window. Particles of dust flew into your face, making you sniffle.

You were bored, to say the least. Cleaning, reading, and watching tv to try and distract yourself. Unfortunately, everything reminded you of him, picking up the trash only to find a strand of his hair. "God, that's gross" you mumbled to yourself, sweeping the floor.

"Alexa, play my main playlist" you mumbled, face planted into your pillow with books spread out around you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you heard the melody of the song, quickly sitting up. "Alexa! Take that song off my playlist" You let out a sigh, remembering the melody of the sweet song Ethan used to play for you.

Without him, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You were just bored, with nothing to do. He made something with your time, he encouraged you to go out even if he was just as scared as you were. He pushed you out of your comfort zone, and now that he was gone it's like part of you left with him.

You missed him, a lot. He was one of the only people who understood you. Your humor, style. Everything about you was always misinterpreted by everyone else. But he got you perfectly. Your friends would say he was the male version of you.

"He was just a waste of time Y/n! Seriously, get over it" Tara would laugh it off but you didn't see it that way. He was more than just a distraction. You genuinely liked him...Maybe you even loved him...?

You found yourself pacing around your room. Why would you break up with him? Why were you still thinking of him? It didn't make sense, you thought it was over. That the spark was gone. But now you realize it wasn't him. It was you.

As much as you wanted him back he probably wouldn't say the same about you. You left in a rush, watching as small tears formed in his eyes. "Why? What did I do wrong?" "Ethan- it's not you. I promise. I just...I can't do it" You shook your head, biting back your lip as it quivered. You wanted to comfort him, but you had no idea how. Plus you were the one who made him that way. He didn't want your comfort.

You were left alone to deal with your thoughts. No one was home, and you knew all your friends would hate you if you started rambling about him again. You just had to do what felt right. Was this right? No, not really. But it felt like a good spontaneous decision.

You quickly threw on your cozy cardigan, slipping on your house shoes before you basically stormed out of the apartment. You weren't paying attention as you walked, feeling yourself bump into someone harshly. "Oh shit, I'm sorry" you quickly recognized the voice, trying your best not to seem frantic. "Oh, I...Hi Y/n" "Hey...Ethan" you nodded in silence. "Where were you heading?" You found it weird that he was in your apartment building. After all, his was the one next door.

"I...well" he scratched the back of his neck, fumbling on his words. "I was gonna go see you actually" he played with his hands in his pockets, lips agape as he looked down at you. "Oh...uhm, Me too" "What?" He seemed surprised, fixing his posture a bit.

"Yea, I was just…heading to your place” Your eyes looked everywhere but his face, avoiding eye contact. “Me too…” the hallway was cold, awkward. The energy was off, but the spark felt stronger than ever.

“So should we go to mine or…?” “No it’s okay. We can go to mine I was just cleaning” you gulped as he followed behind you, clenching your phone in your hand.

Your head spun in confusion, uncomfortable with what was going on. Why was he headed to your place? Yea, he might’ve been looking for Chad and Tara but he didn’t specify it was for that. So why? For the same reasons as you?

“Sorry about the mess…” you mumbled before unlocking the door, the familiar scent of wood and vanilla filling his nose. You led him over to your room, the clean space slightly throwing him off. Your room was always a mess, he would help you clean and organize but never this organized. You had really hit rock bottom.

“So…” you played with your hands as he sat next to you on the bed. Silence filling the room. It was even worse than the hallway. It was completely quiet, Ethan trying to put together the right words. “I miss you” it just spilled out of your lips, quickly closing your mouth as you realized what you said. “You do?” You finally looked up at him, nodding slowly while chewing on your lip.

“I miss you too” “Really? Why?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched his expression change. “Why wouldn’t I?” “Well, 'cause I ended it. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore” he just shook his head, his hand resting over yours. “Well yea. It hurt but I still love you. I never stopped” Your lips started to tremble, holding back a sob.

He loved you? You treated him like shit. How could he love you after all that? You always felt like you never did enough. You knew there was gonna be someone better for him, someone who deserved him. “Y/n…don’t cry” his words broke you, tears spilling down your cheeks as he pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t deserve you” he held you tightly in his chest, his shirt absorbing all your tears.

“It’s okay, I promise” his hand ran through your hair, holding you like it was the last time. “I love you” your words were mumbled into his chest, but his heart heard every word clearly. “I love you too…yea? There’s no need to cry” he smiled as you pulled away. Your lips were puffy, eyelashes wet and long. You were a pretty crier, he would always tell you.

“You’re beautiful” “Shut up” his face brightened up when you smiled, wiping away your tears. “God, I missed you so much” he groaned, a laugh coming from your lips as he pulled you closer. Ethan had kissed you thousands of times, but this one was different. You could feel all of him in you, euphoria filling your body. You were on cloud 9. The sound of deep kisses and heavy breaths filled the room, all of the awkward tension disintegrating.

“Is this why you were coming over?” You questioned, positioned perfectly in his lap as he looked up at you. “Well…yea” you just shook your head with a smile, pulling him back in for another kiss.

A/n: stream emails I can’t send fwd 💪

#ethan landry #fanfic #jack champion #scream #celebrities #cute #jack champion x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x y/n #avatar #ethan landry x you #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #jack champion oneshot #jack champion x y/n #jack champion scream #ethan landry fluff #jack champion fluff #ethan landry angst #jack champion angst #scream franchise #scream vi #jack champion fanfic #scream 6 #scream 6 smut #ethan landry drabble #ethan landry fic #ethan landry headcanons #jack champion headcannons #jack champion imagine

[ash-is-dying]

Temporary Tattoo

A/N: Felt compelled to write a quick blurb after drawing one of these on my own hand. Idk guys the delulu is really getting to me today. Anyway enjoy!

Shy!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 782

Fluffy / Mildy Spicy Blurb

---

“Just stay still Eddie!”

“But you’re taking forever!”

The pen runs over his knuckles as you outline the bones on his hand. You had spent the entirety of calculus at the back drawing on Eddie’s hand. He had breached the topic of getting a skeleton hand tattoo so you had made the generous offer to be his temporary tattoo artist.

His various rings had been scattered across the desk and the sleeve of his hellfire shirt had been rolled the full way up his arm exposing his actual tattoos alongside the detailed sketch on his left hand. You sat knee to knee with the boy as the arm you’re drawing with pins his arm to the table and the other holds his hand flat.

For someone who was covered in hidden tattoos you’re genuinely surprised by how much he moved while you were working and how whiney he was being about you taking too long.

“How long?”

“Eddie I haven’t even done your wrist yet. Chill your balls. We’ve still got half an hour anyway.”

He throws his head back and sighs deeply. His other hand starts to fidget, miming the chords for some metal song or another. His eyes close and he looks like a toddler who’s been denied chocolate from the shops. His head lolls to the side to look at you.

You’re completely oblivious to the look he gives you as he studies your concentrated face, biting your lip and your brows furrowed as you smoothed over the outlines you had drawn. Unbeknownst to you the real reason he was so all over the place wasn’t because the tattoo was taking too long.

It was because you were the one drawing it.

When you had started your gentle touches had left him flinching, moving towards your warm hands. Hence the need for physical restraint. Eddie’s cheeks flushed the moment you had wrestled his arm under yours, your closeness making his heart jump start. He could spend hours here just having you draw all over him. He’d let you fill every gap between his tats if it meant he could keep you like this.

The only reason he was now encouraging you to hurry was because he didn’t need the artist girl he’d been crushing on for months noticing the semi he was sporting. He had tried to slide further under the desk to make it less obvious but the hold you had on his arm was making things increasingly harder.

In both ways.

“I don’t think we need to do the wrist, just my hand is fine-” he said sharply.

“But didn’t you want a half-sleeve anyway? Thought you wanted me to try the whole tattoo.”

“As cool as that would be I kinda need my arm back sweetheart-” He says with an edge of panic in his voice.

“Okay okay, I’ll be done in ten.”

The next ten minutes were probably the longest ten minutes of his life.

For the fine detailing you had made the decision that you needed to get even closer. You had rotated his arm and had folded your leg over his, just adjacent to where he desperately needed you not to be. He watched anxiously as you shifted to finish off the tattoo. He genuinely tried to sink into his chair and disappear. If you had even a hint of what was happening under the desk he would be absolutely mortified.

“Why do you get so many tattoos Eds?”

Her sudden question pulls him out of his head. “Oh- um. I guess because they look cool? And they help me express a part of myself that I want to show people rather than tell them about.”

“Fair enough.” There’s a long pause. “Can I ask you something?”

Eddie’s brows raise in concern. “Yes?”

“Do you get this turned on for all your tattoo artists or just me?”

The silence is deafening as his eyes widen in shock and realization. He stutters as you move off of his lap unable to find the words. The bell goes and you begin to pack up your things not sparing him a glance until you put your hand on his shoulder and lean to whisper in his ear.

“If you ever need another tattoo done… call me okay.”

You give his cheek a quick peck as you turn away and walk out of the room with a flush on your face, leaving behind an extremely flustered and red faced Eddie. He looks down at his arm. It’s amazing of course. But what really catches his eye is the messily written phone number on the underside of his arm.

Maybe he will get another temporary tattoo.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things #blurb

[zootopiathingz]

Genuine question: Why do you ship Radiobelle? I've seen a lot of people doing it, and I'm curious as to what the appeal is!

The real question is, why do people ship anything? Why do we all see two or sometimes more characters interact with each other and imagine how cool it would be if they both had deep-seated romantic feelings for the other?

Answer: cuz we can!😌

Idk about the rest of you, but I don’t exactly have much control over what I ship and don’t ship😅 I just see the characters together and my brain randomly decides either “yes I want them to make out” or “nooo I don’t really see it”. (I am in no way a pro shipper though cuz no)

But as for Radiobelle specifically, there’s just something about them that my silly fangirl heart can’t resist. While I am fairly new to the HH fandom, I did watch the pilot around the time it came out and a small part of me did ship them back then. But I never really allowed myself to indulge in it and I just wasn’t that into the show anyway so I didn’t bother. Now, after actually watching the episodes and engaging in fandom content, I finally embraced the cringe to the full extent and let myself be consumed by the radio demon and his charming demon belle! :P

Now I’m aware that the majority of people don’t like Radiobelle, or even full-on hate it for multiple reasons. Sure, whatever. You don’t have to like every ship, nor does anyone expect you to! I can understand it’s not for everybody. The main thing that bugs me, though, is when people try to start arguments about why it’ll never be canon and why you shouldn’t ship it. “Charlie is with Vaggie and Alastor is aro/ace!” People ship Alastor with a multitude of other characters and nobody bats an eye,, why is it only when you see him being drawn with Charlie that you lose your shit and get offended about his sexuality being ‘erased’? (That’s a topic for a whole other post tbh). And people can ship Charlie with other people. Hell, they DO! I’ve seen numerous art of her and other characters.

Then there’s also the “Alastor thinks of her as his daughter!” See, I want everybody to actually watch episode 5 again and come back to me on this. No, he fucking does not. The only reason he was saying any of that was to get under Lucifer’s skin. That’s it. That was his whole intention. He doesn’t like Lucifer and wanted to rub it in his face that he has been a lousy father to his daughter, in comparison to all the ways he has helped her, with the hotel and whatever else.

Phew, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way! Onto why Radiobelle has stolen my heart!

I just love their dynamic and it all really started with the pilot. Alastor—this mysterious force of nature who can kill anyone and anything, is capable of unimaginable power and torture—randomly showing up on the doorstep of a hotel to help out. And literally no one else trusts him (reasonably so) but Charlie, the good-hearted soul she is, lets him in. She’s cautious, of course, but she’s giving him the chance to do some good because that’s what her dream is all about!

Now while I do wish they had some more interactions in the actual show, what we have so far is scrumptious✨ Alastor may have been giving an abundance of praise to Charlie to piss off her dad, but I don’t think he was lying. Deep down I’m sure he is enjoying the time they’ve spent together—even if he doesn’t fully realize it. Charlie defends Al’s sadistic behavior to her dad because he was doing it to defend the hotel (and bc he’s a cocky mf lol but it’s endearing to her in a way).

Oh and don’t even get me STARTED on episode 7 bro,, omfg the content!! The way he’s extra touchy with her even after they’ve made their deal. Her being nervous and stressed out but he encourages her anyway and verbally admits that he had faith in her the whole time. Him giving her his microphone—which is likely the main source of his power as shown in episode 8 (where he let her use his mic AGAIN!!!) which just shows how much he actually trusts her,, UGH it’s just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻 give me more!!

Now, do I expect Radiobelle to become canon? No. Would it be fucking awesome if it did? Oh absolutely. But I know it won’t, and I don’t care! I’m having the time of my life shipping these two hell-dwelling idiots and I don’t care what anyone says about it!😋

#gotta love the ‘I can fix him’ ‘I can make her worse’ dynamic they got going on #anyway shout out to my fellow radiobelle shippers✌🏻 #we have impeccable taste and we know it #and uh sorry if this rant comes across as me being petty or rude #I really wasnt. I was just stating facts lol #long post #radiobelle #charlastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel ship #charlie morningstar #alastor the radio demon #asks #anon ask #lady luxo asks

[muiitoloko]

Hi! I've been devouring your alan fics so much! They're so so so good! Do you do requests? If so I'm kinda craving for some platonic love 🫶. Is it alright to have an Eli x daughter reader? I don't have a specific plot in mind. I just want some fluff but to make it better add some angst.

But if you don't do requests, it's fine. Just ignore this lol. Just really love how you write!!

Title: Become a great artist.

Summary: He wanted you to become a great artist, so you did. But Eli realizes that you have always been a great artist.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Angst, Angst, Angst! Neglectful father, criticism, mention of rape, kidnapping, suicide, death.

Author's Notes: Thank you for reaching out and enjoying my stories. I have to admit, I got a bit carried away with this one. What started as an attempt to create something cute took an unexpected turn into anguish, and I found myself writing through tears. If this isn't what you were hoping for and you prefer something cute, just let me know, and I promise I'll whip up something adorable for you.

First, Second and Third part here.

As the birthday celebration for your father, Eli, continued, you couldn't wait to unveil the gift you had painstakingly crafted for him. The table was already adorned with a collection of thoughtful presents, but yours was the final touch to the evening.

With a hopeful smile, you presented the oil painting you had spent countless hours creating. The canvas depicted a striking likeness of your father, Eli, capturing his essence in vibrant colors and intricate details.

But as Eli glanced at the painting, his expression remained unchanged, his lack of enthusiasm palpable. You felt a pang of disappointment as you looked at him expectantly, hoping for a more heartfelt reaction.

However, your mother, Sarah, sitting beside Eli, immediately took the painting into her hands, her eyes lighting up with admiration. "Oh, darling, this is absolutely beautiful!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're so talented!"

Your brother, Barkley, chimed in with his own praise, echoing your mother's sentiments. But despite their encouraging words, you couldn't shake the feeling of deflation at Eli's lackluster response.

As the dinner progressed, Eli seemed content to focus on his meal and his glass of wine, his attention drifting away from the festivities. You tried to console yourself with the thought that your father was simply not one to show emotions openly, but it still stung to see him so disinterested in your gift.

As Sarah noticed your hopeful expression towards Eli, she intervened with a comment meant to uplift your spirits. "You know, darling," she said, her voice warm and encouraging, "you have such a talent for art. You could be a great artist, like Van Gogh."

But Eli's response was not what you had expected. He scoffed dismissively, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Van Gogh? Please. The man cut off his own ear and ended up killing himself," he remarked, his words laced with derision. "Unless you're planning on following in his footsteps, I highly doubt you'll ever become a great artist. You know, the painter has to die for his works to become famous; that's how I see it, at least."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his cutting remark, your heart sinking at the realization that your father saw little value in your passion and talents. Hanging your head in disappointment, you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Sarah shot Eli a reproachful glance, her eyes flashing with indignation at his insensitive remark. "Eli, that's enough," she scolded, her voice firm and resolute. "There's no need to be so cruel."

But Eli remained indifferent to his wife's reproach, his attention already drifting back to his meal. Ignoring Sarah's scolding, he continued to sip his wine, his disinterest in your feelings painfully evident.

Forced to put on a brave face, you mustered a weak smile and nodded in response to your mom's apology. "It's okay, Mom," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

But inside, your heart ached with the weight of Eli's disappointment and disapproval. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the dinner continued, you tried to push aside your hurt feelings and focus on enjoying the rest of the evening. But deep down, you couldn't shake the sense of inadequacy that your father's words had stirred within you, a painful reminder of your status as the perpetual disappointment in his eyes. But you forced a smile onto your face, and you were happy. After all, it was a night to celebrate. It was your father's birthday, and everyone should be happy. You turned to your brother and started an animated conversation with him, talking about everything and nothing.

And so, the night passed until you and your brother said goodbye and prepared to leave. However, as you made your way to your car, you realized that you couldn't find your keys in your pocket. It suddenly dawned on you that you had forgotten them at your parents' house. As you approached your parents' house to retrieve the forgotten car key, you hesitated for a moment outside the door, the voices of your parents drifting through the air. Initially, you thought they were just chatting or perhaps discussing plans for the next day, but as you listened more closely, the tone of their conversation sent shivers down your spine.

"...at least pretend to be happy about her gift," Sarah's voice, tinged with frustration, reached your ears first.

Eli's response was immediate, his tone dismissive and biting. "Why should I pretend, Sarah? It's just another one of her silly paintings. If she wants to waste her time on that nonsense, fine. But don't expect me to pretend it's anything more than that."

You felt a pang of hurt at your dad's words, his lack of appreciation for your efforts cutting deeper than you cared to admit. As Sarah attempted to defend your gift, Eli's retort struck you like a physical blow.

"And what was that comment about having to kill herself to be a great artist? Honestly, Eli, can't you see how hurtful that is?" Sarah's voice, filled with exasperation and sadness, echoed your own feelings of disappointment.

Eli rolled his eyes, his impatience evident in his voice. "Oh, please. I was just being realistic. She's not going to make it as an artist, no matter how much you coddle her. And besides, if she's dumb enough to think her paintings will make her a great artist, then maybe she deserves a reality check."

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the weight of your dad's words settled heavily on your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the argument between your parents reached its peak, you forced yourself to open the door and step inside, your head hung low as you made your way to the counter where you had left your car key. Your parents fell silent as they watched you, their expressions filled with surprise and concern.

Picking up the key with trembling hands, you turned to face them, your voice barely above a whisper as you addressed them. "I forgot my key. I'll just...I'll see you later," you mumbled, your heart heavy with disappointment as you turned and made your way back outside.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling of despair that settled over you like a dark cloud. Despite your best efforts to please your father, it seemed that you would forever be a disappointment in his eyes. And as you drove away from your parents' house, tears streaming down your cheeks, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever be able to escape the shadow of your dad's disapproval.

As you drove home, your vision blurred by tears, you couldn't shake the weight of your father's harsh words. Each syllable echoed in your mind like a cruel refrain, cutting deeper than any knife ever could. The familiar scent of paint greeted you as you entered your apartment, your sanctuary, your studio. But instead of finding solace in the comforting aroma, it only served to remind you of your own inadequacy in your father's eyes.

With trembling hands, you made your way through the cluttered space, your eyes falling on the canvases scattered around the room. Each painting, a testament to your passion and talent, now felt like a mockery of your futile efforts to win your father's approval.

In a moment of overwhelming despair, you lashed out, sweeping your arm across the nearest table, sending brushes, paints, and canvases crashing to the floor in a cacophony of destruction. The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed through the room, matching the turmoil raging within your own heart.

As you stood amidst the wreckage, tears streaming down your cheeks, you felt a sense of catharsis wash over you. With each shattered piece of paintbrush and torn canvas, you released a fragment of the pain and frustration that had been building inside you for so long.

But even as you succumbed to the chaos of your emotions, a flicker of determination stirred within you. You knew that there was only one thing that could ease the ache in your heart, only one outlet for the storm of emotions raging within you: painting.

With renewed purpose, you retrieved a fresh canvas and a palette of vibrant colors, your hands moving with a sense of urgency born from desperation. With each brushstroke, you poured your heart and soul onto the canvas, channeling your pain and anguish into a whirlwind of color and emotion.

Hours passed in a blur as you painted through the night, your movements fluid and instinctual, driven by a need to escape the suffocating weight of your father's disapproval. Each stroke of the brush was a release, a cathartic expression of the turmoil raging within you.

You painted sadness, despair, and chaos, each image a reflection of the tumultuous storm that raged within your own soul. But amidst the darkness, there was also beauty, a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of pain and uncertainty.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, you stepped back to admire your work, the exhaustion of the night weighing heavily on your shoulders. But despite the weariness that threatened to consume you, there was also a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of the emotions that had driven you to create.

With a heavy heart and aching limbs, you collapsed onto the floor beside your paintings, the tears finally drying on your cheeks as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep. And as you drifted off into the realm of dreams, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had your art, you would always find a way to weather the storm.

Days later, despite the emotional turmoil you had experienced, you found yourself slipping back into the familiar pattern of seeking your father's approval. It was a habit ingrained deeply within you, a longing to win even a sliver of recognition from a man who seemed perpetually out of reach.

But then, news came in a surprising package: your father, Eli, had won the Nobel Prize. The announcement came through your mother, Sarah, who couldn't contain her excitement as she relayed the incredible news to you and your brother, Barkley.

Filled with a mix of disbelief and pride, you made a point to visit your parents' house to congratulate your father in person. As you entered the room, Eli's face lit up with a rare smile at the sight of you, a genuine warmth in his eyes that you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Congratulations, Dad!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement as you rushed forward to embrace him. Your dad returned the hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising tenderness, a gesture that felt unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Eli said, his voice tinged with pride as he pulled away to look at you. "I couldn't have done it without the support of my family."

You beamed at his words, a surge of happiness flooding through you at the rare display of affection from your father. In that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of the bond that had been strained for so long.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself sharing a moment of camaraderie with your father, a sense of connection that had eluded you for years. You laughed together, reminisced about old memories, and even shared a toast to celebrate your father's incredible achievement.

And amidst the laughter and joy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to share this moment with your father. Despite the years of disappointment and frustration, you cherished this fleeting glimpse of the man behind the facade of arrogance and indifference.

As the night came to an end, and the celebrations had taken their toll, you found yourself in a state of inebriation that made driving impossible. Eli, being the responsible parent, decided to take you home. However, getting you into the car turned out to be a bit of a challenge.

You were feeling particularly stubborn and silly, bouncing around the living room with an air of joviality. "I'm the Nobel Prize winner's daughter!" you exclaimed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you twirled around the room. "And my father is a geniuuus" you sang, your voice filled with laughter.

Eli couldn't help but suppress a smile at your antics, his eyes rolling with amusement as he watched you dance around the room. But when Sarah voiced her concerns and urged you to be careful, Eli knew it was time to intervene.

With a gentle sigh, he made his way over to you, his arms outstretched in a gesture of patience and understanding. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with affection as he reached out to scoop you up in his arms. "It's time to go home."

You giggled uncontrollably as Eli lifted you off the ground, your arms wrapping around his neck in a playful embrace. "But Daaaad!" you protested, your words slurring slightly with intoxication. "Can't we stop by McDonald's?"

Eli chuckled softly at your request, shaking his head in amusement as he made his way towards the door. "Maybe next time, sweetheart," he replied, his tone gentle yet firm as he carried you towards the waiting car.

As you waved goodbye to your mother over your father's shoulder, a sense of warmth and contentment washed over you, despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses. And as your dad carefully buckled you into the car, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the rare moment of connection shared between father and daughter, even in the midst of your drunken antics.

As Eli drove to your apartment, he couldn't help but suppress a chuckle at your off-key singing, the melody of your voice filling the car with a sense of lightheartedness amidst the chaos of the night. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you, his daughter, swaying in the passenger seat with a carefree grin on your face.

Ignoring your playful antics, Eli focused on the road ahead, navigating the familiar streets with practiced ease. But despite his outward composure, there was a sense of relief in his heart as he guided the car towards your apartment, knowing that he had managed to get you home safely despite the challenges of the evening.

As the two of you arrived at your apartment building, Eli turned to you with a concerned expression, his brow furrowed with worry. "Do you think you'll be able to make it up to your apartment on your own?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

You nodded in response, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you reassured him. "Don't worry, Dad, I'll be fine," you slurred slightly, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in your system. "Thank you for getting me home."

Eli softened at your words, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he reached out to gently pat your hand. "I'm always worried about your safety, sweetheart," he admitted, his voice quiet and sincere. "Just promise me you'll take a shower and get some rest, okay?"

You nodded in agreement, your head bobbing slightly as you struggled to maintain your balance. "I promise, Dad," you replied, your words muffled by a yawn as exhaustion began to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

With a gentle smile, Eli helped you out of the car and escorted you to the entrance of the building, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he made sure you would enter safely. "Take care, sweetheart," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of fatherly affection. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You waved goodbye to your father, a playful grin spreading across your face as you stumbled towards the entrance of the building. "I'll paint a picture of you with your Nobel Prize!" you called out, your words slurred but filled with determination.

Eli rolled his eyes at your drunken proclamation, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. "Don't waste your time on that," he replied, his tone teasing yet affectionate. "Just focus on getting some rest."

As you stumbled through the doorway and disappeared from sight, Eli stayed parked outside the building, his gaze lingering on the entrance with a sense of lingering concern. Despite his dismissive words, there was a part of him that couldn't help but worry about you, his daughter, stumbling through the darkness alone.

He knew he was tough on you sometimes, but he just wanted you to be better, to have the best, and he knew his silly paintings wouldn't give him that.

With a heavy sigh, he finally pulled away from the curb and began the journey back home, the events of the evening swirling through his mind as he navigated the empty streets. And as he drove through the quiet night, a sense of gratitude washed over him, knowing that despite the challenges and complexities of their relationship, he would always be there to watch over you, his beloved daughter.

Meanwhile, you went up to your apartment, fumbling a little with your keys before getting in, falling straight onto the couch tiredly. Despite the alcohol-induced haze clouding your mind, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and warmth lingering within you. The evening spent with your father, Eli, had been unexpectedly pleasant, filled with laughter and genuine moments of connection that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

As you settled onto the couch, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you couldn't help but replay the events of the night in your mind, savoring each precious memory like a cherished treasure. Despite Eli's usual indifference and tendency to dismiss your passions, you had managed to share a moment of genuine camaraderie with him, a glimmer of the father-daughter bond that had been strained for so long.

In that moment, you felt a surge of love and gratitude towards Eli, a flicker of hope that perhaps, despite his flaws and shortcomings, he did care about you in his own way. You drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face, the warmth of the evening wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

But days later, your sense of security and reassurance would be shattered in an instant, replaced by a chilling realization that would rock you to your core. Bound and gagged, staring into the face of your kidnapper, you felt a sense of disbelief and terror wash over you as they dialed your parents' number, putting the call on speaker for you to hear.

As the voice of your father, Eli, echoed through the room, you held your breath, desperately hoping for a glimmer of compassion or concern in his words. But what you heard instead sent a shockwave of pain ripping through your chest, leaving you reeling in disbelief and agony.

"I'm not giving you two million dollars for her," Eli's voice, cold and dismissive, cut through the silence like a knife. "She's not worth that much."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, crushing any lingering hope or illusion you had held onto about your father's love and affection. In that moment, you realized with devastating clarity that Eli's indifference towards you ran deeper than you had ever imagined, his actions speaking volumes about the true extent of his disregard for your well-being.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled against the bonds that held you captive, the weight of Eli's betrayal bearing down on you like a heavy burden. How could he abandon you like this, in your darkest hour of need? How could he place a price tag on your life, as if you were nothing more than a disposable commodity?

As the reality of your situation sank in, you felt a sense of despair and hopelessness wash over you, threatening to consume you whole. And in that moment of darkness, the flicker of love and gratitude you had felt towards Eli was extinguished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of betrayal and abandonment.

"I'm not joking," the kidnapper insisted, his tone cold and merciless. "I want two million dollars, and I want it now. If you don't pay up, she'll suffer the consequences."

How could your father refuse to pay for your freedom? The realization that he considered you unworthy of such a sum was like a dagger to your chest, leaving you gasping for air as you struggled to comprehend his callous indifference.

Meanwhile, in his hotel room in Stockholm, Eli ended the call with a dismissive flick of his wrist, his mind already moving on to other matters. When Sarah questioned him about the call, he brushed it off with a casual shrug, dismissing it as unimportant.

"No one important," he replied, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Just some prank caller trying to get a rise out of me."

But little did Eli know, as he lounged in his luxurious surroundings, that his daughter's life hung in the balance, her fate at the mercy of a ruthless kidnapper who saw her as nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.

Back in the dimly lit room where you were held captive, the kidnapper crouched in front of you, his eyes filled with uncertainty as he pondered his next move. The prospect of not receiving the ransom he had demanded left him feeling conflicted, unsure of what to do with you now that his plans had been thwarted.

"What am I supposed to do with you now?" the kidnapper muttered, taking the gag off of you, his voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. "If your daddy won't pay, then what's the point of keeping you around?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his words, fear and panic gripping you in their icy embrace. The thought of what he might do to you now, with no hope of rescue in sight, sent shivers down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to keep your composure.

But your terror only intensified as you saw the hungry look in the kidnapper's eyes, a predatory gleam that sent a chill down your spine. You knew what he was thinking, could see the lust and desire written plainly on his face, and the realization filled you with a sense of helpless dread.

"No, please," you begged, your voice trembling with fear as you pleaded with him. "Don't do this. Please, just let me go."

But your pleas fell on deaf ears as the kidnapper's gaze lingered hungrily on you, his lips curling into a sinister smile that sent a shiver of revulsion down your spine. In that moment, you knew with chilling certainty that your fate was sealed, that there would be no rescue, no salvation from the horrors that awaited you.

Desperate and terrified, you called out for your father, Eli, your voice cracking with anguish as you begged him to intervene, to save you from the nightmare unfolding before your eyes. But deep down, you knew that he would never come to your rescue, just as he had never come to your aid on that fateful day when you first learned to ride a bike, falling and crying out for him, only to be met with silence and indifference.

And as you lay in the hospital bed, staring at the blank white ceiling above you, memories of your father flood your mind like a torrential downpour. You can't help but think back to that day when you were just a child, learning to ride a bike for the first time. You remember the excitement in your heart as you pedaled furiously down the street, the wind rushing through your hair as you gained speed.

But then, disaster struck, and you lost your balance, tumbling to the ground in a heap of scraped knees and tears. Through the blur of pain and disappointment, you cried out for your father, hoping for his comforting embrace to soothe your wounded pride. But he was nowhere to be found, lost in his own world of ambitions and achievements, too preoccupied to spare a moment for his injured child.

That day was just one of many in a long list of your father's neglectful moments, a pattern of behavior that had shaped your relationship with him for as long as you could remember. From missed recitals to forgotten birthdays, Eli's indifference had left an indelible mark on your psyche, a wound that festered with each passing disappointment.

And today was just one more addition to that list, a stark reminder of your father's priorities and his lack of concern for anything or anyone outside of his own ambitions. As you lay in the hospital bed, grappling with the aftermath of your ordeal, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you, a bitter acceptance of the fact that your father would never change.

Meanwhile, outside the hospital room, your brother Barkley paces back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as he anxiously dials your parents' number. After several rings, his father Eli finally answers, his voice tinged with annoyance as he questions Barkley's reason for calling.

"What is it, Barkley?" Eli snaps, his tone curt and dismissive as he brushes off his son's attempt to interrupt his celebration. "I'm in the middle of something important. This better be worth disturbing me."

Barkley takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation that he knows is about to unfold. "Dad, it's about [Your Name]," he says, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "She's in the hospital."

Eli's response was immediate, his tone shifting from annoyance to genuine concern as he pressed Barkley for more information. "What do you mean she's in the hospital?" he demanded, his voice tinged with panic. "Is she okay? Explain this properly."

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Barkley relayed the details of the situation as best as he could. "She was found abandoned in a dirty alley," he explained, his voice trembling with emotion. "Some people called 911, and she was taken to the hospital. They tried to call you and Mom, but you didn't answer, so they called me."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line as Eli processed the gravity of the situation. Despite his usual self-centered demeanor, a flicker of concern and fear crept into his voice as he responded. "Is she okay? What happened to her?"

Barkley hesitates for a moment before delivering the next piece of devastating information. "The doctor said she was raped and assaulted," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They found evidence of trauma...down there."

Eli's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to process the horrifying news. "Oh my god," he whispered, his voice filled with shock and disbelief. "Is she...is she conscious? Can she talk?"

Barkley's heart aches as he shakes his head, the weight of the situation bearing down on him like a leaden weight. "No, she's not talking to anyone," he replies, his voice choked with tears. "She's just...staring into space."

Eli's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to comprehend the extent of his daughter's suffering. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear. "What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor said she's in shock," Barkley explains, his words coming out in a rush. "They're doing everything they can for her, but...but we need to be there, Dad. She needs us."

Tears welled up in Eli's eyes as he listened to his son's words, the weight of his daughter's suffering bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm coming," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Tell her...tell her I'm coming to her. I'll be there soon."

As Barkley looked out the window, his heart sank at the sight of you lying motionless in the hospital bed. He felt a surge of helplessness wash over him as he listened to your father's voice crackle over the phone, his words filled with a mixture of concern and desperation.

"Dad, I don't know what to do," Barkley confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "She's not responding, she's just...staring into space."

But before he could say anything else, Eli's voice cut through the air, his tone strained with worry. "She'll be fine, Barkley. She has to be," he insisted, but Barkley could hear the uncertainty in his father's voice, the underlying fear that threatened to consume him.

Barkley nodded weakly, his own doubts and fears swirling inside him as he struggled to find the strength to comfort his sister. "I know, Dad. I just...I wish there was more I could do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eli fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air between them. "Just be there for her, Barkley. That's all we can do," he said finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

As the call ended and the limo sped towards the nearest airport, Sarah clung to Eli's side, her own worry etched across her face. "Is she going to be okay?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

Eli wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close in a comforting embrace. "She'll be fine, Sarah. She has to be," he repeated, but his words sounded hollow even to his own ears, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience.

Meanwhile, in the hospital room in California, Barkley walked in and approached your bedside, his heart heavy with worry. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently as he tried to find the right words to say.

"I talked to Mom and Dad," he began softly, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Dad's coming, you know. He'll be here soon."

But you remained silent, your gaze fixed on nothing as you lay there unmoving. Barkley felt a pang of sadness in his chest at your lack of response, the weight of your suffering bearing down on him like a heavy burden.

"I know how much you love Dad," Barkley continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "Maybe when he gets here, you'll snap out of this. Maybe you'll come back to us."

But as he spoke, Barkley couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his gut, the fear that you might never be the same again. And as he sat there holding your hand, surrounded by the sterile scent of the hospital room, he prayed silently for a miracle to bring you back to them.

But you remained silent, your usually vibrant personality seemingly extinguished by the traumatic events you had endured. Barkley had never seen you so quiet; you were always the talker, the light of the family, bringing laughter and joy wherever you went. But now, the silence that surrounded you felt suffocating, like a heavy blanket weighing down on their already burdened hearts.

Days passed, and Barkley's fears began to materialize. Despite being released from the hospital, you remained distant and cold, your eyes hollow and devoid of the spark that once lit up your face. The only time you opened your mouth was to recount the harrowing details of your kidnapping and assault to the police at the hospital. After that, you retreated into yourself, shutting out the world and refusing to engage with anyone, not even your father, who had always seemed to be the center of your world.

"Barkley, I don't know what to do," Sarah confided in him one evening, her voice trembling with worry. "She won't talk to me, she won't talk to Eli...I'm afraid she's slipping away from us."

Barkley's heart ached at the pain in his mother's voice, his own sense of helplessness mirrored in her eyes. "I know, Mom. I'm worried too," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Together, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they grappled with the enormity of the situation. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt gnawing at his conscience; if only he had been able to protect you, to prevent this tragedy from befalling you. But deep down, he knew that no amount of regret could change what had happened.

As days turned into weeks, Barkley watched you from a distance, his heart heavy with worry and guilt. You had retreated into yourself, isolating yourself in your apartment and shutting out the world. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness as he watched you paint, your once vibrant and colorful creations now replaced by somber and melancholic images.

He tried to talk to you, to break through the wall of silence that surrounded you, but you ignored his every attempt. It pained him to see you like this, lost in your own despair, but he didn't know what else to do.

One evening, as Barkley once again attempted to reach out to you, you brushed him off without a word, your silence speaking volumes. Defeated, Barkley turned and walked away, his heart heavy with disappointment.

But Barkley had a plan, a desperate bid to escape the suffocating weight of his guilt and the toxic environment that surrounded him. With your mother's help, he concocted a scheme to steal money from your father, Eli, and leave town for good.

Together, they managed to steal two million dollars from Eli’s accounts—enough to start a new life, far from the pain and suffering that consumed his family. They assured you that you would be fine, asking if you wanted to go with them, but your silence was answer enough.

And so, one fateful night, Barkley and your mother disappeared into the night, leaving you behind in your empty apartment, alone with your thoughts and your paintings.

Meanwhile, in his luxurious home, Eli wasted away, drowning his sorrows in alcohol as he wallowed in self-pity and regret. He had lost everything – his money, his wife, and now his son. But he still had you, his daughter, his beautiful daughter whom he had failed to protect.

Eli's cell phone rang on the coffee table in the dimly lit living room, breaking the silence that had enveloped the house for weeks. He glanced at the caller ID but didn't recognize the number, yet he answered it eagerly, hoping for some sign of life amidst the desolation.

"Hello?" Eli's voice trembled with anticipation as he held the phone to his ear.

"Dad?" Your voice, soft and distant, echoed through the line, sending a surge of relief and concern coursing through Eli's veins. He hadn't heard your voice in weeks, and the sound of it now filled him with a mixture of joy and apprehension.

"Is that you, sweetheart?" Eli's heart raced as he waited for your response, his mind racing with a thousand questions.

But before he could say anything else, you interrupted him, your voice carrying a weight that chilled him to the bone. "You were right, Dad," you said, your words hanging heavy in the air. "The painter has to die for his works to become famous."

Eli froze, the blood draining from his face as he struggled to comprehend the meaning behind your words. His mind raced back to your paintings, the somber and melancholic images that had replaced the vibrant and colorful creations you had once produced. Was this what you had meant?

"What do you mean, sweetheart? Where are you?" he questioned, his voice laced with concern and dread.

You continued speaking, your voice hollow and distant. "Because people like it, right? People like tragic things, sad things," you said, your words echoing with a disturbing clarity.

Eli's heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation. "No, no, my dear, please don't do anything rash," he pleaded, his voice tinged with panic. "Tell me where you are. I'll come to you right away."

But you remained resolute, your mind seemingly made up. "I'm on a bridge," you replied calmly. "I'm going to jump, father. I'm going to become a great artist like Van Gogh."

Eli's hands shook as he held the phone tightly to his ear, the weight of your words crushing him with a suffocating sense of helplessness. "No, please, don't do this," he begged, his voice choked with tears. "I'll do anything, just please come back to me."

Eli's heart sank as he listened to your unsettling silence, his sense of guilt and regret weighing him down. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know I haven't been there for you like I should have," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "But please, don't do this. I'm coming to you right now. Just stay still, okay? Don't move."

But you interrupted him, your voice cutting through the air with a bitter edge. "You never came to my aid when I needed you, Dad. You never did," you said, your words laced with disappointment and resentment.

Eli's chest tightened at your accusation, the weight of his failures as a father bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I know, and I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I've been a shitty father, and I regret it every day."

But you remained steadfast, your resolve unyielding as you spoke once more. "The key to my apartment is under the rug," you said calmly, your voice cutting through the chaos of the moment. "My paintings...put them up for auction. Maybe then you can recover the money Barkley and Mom stole."

Eli tried to protest, to argue that the money didn't matter in comparison to the value of your life, but you silenced him with a swift motion, sliding your cell phone and tossing it off the bridge, watching it disappear into the depths below.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, your mind set on your decision. "Become a great artist," you whispered to yourself before taking the leap, the rush of wind drowning out the sounds of the world around you.

As you plummeted towards the water below, a crowd of onlookers gathered on the bridge, their smartphones held high as they captured the moment for posterity. But you paid them no mind, your focus solely on the journey ahead, whatever it may bring.

A month had passed since the tragic day you took your leap from the bridge, and Eli found himself enveloped in a fog of despair. Despite his best efforts, there was still no sign of your body, no closure to the nightmare that had consumed their lives. The newspapers relentlessly replayed the cell phone footage of your final moments, each viewing tearing at Eli's heart anew.

With a heavy heart, Eli finally gathered the courage to fulfill your final wish. He put your paintings up for auction, just as you had requested, each stroke of the brush a painful reminder of the vibrant soul you once were.

Sitting at the back of the auction hall, Eli struggled to maintain his composure as each painting was presented to the eager bidders. Memories flooded his mind with each piece, from the happiest to the darkest, each one a testament to the complexity of your spirit.

He remembered the little girl he once carried in his arms, her bright eyes gazing up at him with an innocence that melted his heart. Back then, he had felt a twinge of disappointment at having a girl instead of the son he had hoped for, but that feeling quickly dissipated as he held you close, your warmth and love filling the void in his heart.

He recalled the annoyance he felt when you were a child, following him everywhere and refusing to leave him alone for a second. He had often found himself exasperated by your constant presence, yearning for moments of solitude that seemed perpetually out of reach.

Then there were the times you had forced him to have tea with you and your dolls, a memory that now brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. He remembered the humiliation he had felt, sitting awkwardly amongst your toys, pretending to sip from a tiny porcelain cup as you chattered away happily.

But perhaps the most vivid memory of all was the day you had drawn on the important papers he carried with him everywhere. He had scolded you harshly for it, unable to understand why you would deface something so precious to him. But you had looked up at him with tears in your eyes and explained that you just wanted him to carry a little piece of you with him wherever he went. In that moment, Eli had felt a surge of tenderness towards you, his anger melting away as he realized the depth of your love for him.

As another painting of you went up for auction, Eli forced himself to become stoic, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He watched with a mixture of pride and sadness as the bids climbed higher and higher, each one a testament to the impact you had made on the world with your art.

Finally, a man stood out amongst the crowd, offering two million dollars for one of your paintings. The auctioneer turned to the man and asked for his name, and Eli's heart skipped a beat when he heard the answer.

"Lionel Shabandar," the man introduced himself, his voice carrying a note of authority as he met Eli's gaze with a steely determination.

But Eli looked away, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions as he remembered who Lionel Shabandar was. One of the richest men in London, Shabandar's presence in California seemed out of place. Why would he be here, at this auction, to buy a painting of his daughter's?

The auction continued, and Eli watched in surprise as Shabandar purchased nearly all of the paintings, one after another, with unwavering determination. Eli couldn't comprehend why Shabandar, a man of such wealth and influence, would be interested in his daughter's art. But the sight of him acquiring every piece only deepened the mystery.

As the auction drew to a close and Shabandar rose to leave, Eli felt a sudden urge to confront him. He hurriedly followed Shabandar, calling out for him to wait. Surprisingly, Shabandar halted in his tracks and turned to face Eli, greeting him with a nod as if they were old acquaintances.

"Doctor Eli Michaelson, isn't it?" Shabandar's voice was smooth and cultured, with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Eli nodded, a sense of unease creeping over him. "Yes, that's me. But forgive me if I'm mistaken, but do we know each other?"

Shabandar smiled knowingly. "No, not personally. But I've heard about you, Doctor Michaelson. Congratulations on your Nobel Prize," he said, his tone respectful.

Eli brushed off the compliment, his mind focused on the matter at hand. "Thank you, but that's not why I'm here. I need to know why you bought all those paintings."

Shabandar raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Isn't it obvious? Your daughter was a remarkable artist."

Eli's eyes narrowed skeptically. "Remarkable, yes, but why would you, of all people, be interested in her work?"

Shabandar chuckled softly, gesturing towards the paintings on display. "Because I recognize talent when I see it, Doctor Michaelson. Your daughter's art spoke to me in a way that few others have. Each brushstroke, each detail, conveyed a depth of emotion that is truly rare."

Eli remained unconvinced, his suspicions lingering like a shadow. "And what do you plan to do with her paintings now that you've bought them all?"

Shabandar shrugged nonchalantly. "Display them, perhaps. Or perhaps donate them to a museum. It's too soon to say."

Eli studied Shabandar carefully, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive. But Shabandar's demeanor remained calm and composed, his intentions shrouded in mystery.

Before Eli could press further, Shabandar glanced at his watch and made to leave. "I must be going, but congratulations, Doctor Michaelson, your daughter has become a great artist," he said, offering a polite nod before disappearing into the crowd.

Eli was left alone, standing still amidst the bustling auction hall, his thoughts consumed by a flood of memories. As he turned to look at the paintings that had once adorned the walls of your apartment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride welling up inside him.

You didn't become a great artist, no, you already were for a long time. Since you were a child and scribbled on the walls, on Eli's important papers, until Eli got fed up and gave you a painting kit. He remembered the day vividly, the frustration in his voice as he handed you the brushes and the canvas, hoping to pacify you with a creative outlet.

He could almost see you there, looking at the blank canvas and the paints in your tiny hands, asking your father what you should paint. And he, in his typical dismissive manner, had simply replied, "Paint something that will make me proud."

And you had smiled at him, a radiant beam of innocence that melted his heart, before setting to work with a determination that belied your tender age. You painted and painted, your tiny fingers creating masterpieces that Eli had never thought possible.

But despite your talent, Eli had never been proud of your paintings, always dismissing them as mere child's play. He had been blind to the beauty and depth of your art, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to see the world through your eyes.

As he stood there now, surrounded by the remnants of your creativity, Eli felt a pang of regret gnawing at his conscience. He wished he could go back, to cherish those moments with you, to celebrate your talent and nurture it with the love and support you deserved.

But it was too late for regrets now. All he could do was honor your memory, to ensure that the world knew of the remarkable artist you had been. And as he looked around the auction hall, at the eager bidders clamoring for a piece of your legacy, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Lionel Shabandar, the enigmatic stranger who had recognized your talent when he had failed to do so.

With a heavy heart, Eli made his way home, the weight of his emotions threatening to crush him with each step. But amidst the grief and the guilt, there was a glimmer of hope, a flicker of pride in knowing that you had left behind a legacy that would endure long after you were gone.

And as he gazed at the painting kit he had given you all those years ago, now gathering dust on a forgotten shelf, Eli made a silent vow to cherish the memory of his daughter, the talented artist whose brilliance had shone brighter than he could have ever imagined.

#eli michaelson #eli michaelson x reader #barkley michaelson #sarah michaelson #nobel son #alan rickman x reader #alan rickman

[bbobpul]

lost, but not in you — jjh

PAIRING. jaehyun x reader SUMMARY. taking a drive around anaheim with jaehyun, and reader reminisce about the hardest part of their relationship GENRE. fluff, angst W/C. 1.5k NOTE. i love niki and jaehyun so much that i had to write a story inspired by her song and make it about him. also #1to7YearsWith127 (/° 0°)/→ my other works

jaehyun embodies the epitome of patience and love, serving as a living testament to compassion and understanding. he is not merely a companion, but rather my unwavering guide—a beacon of light that pierces through the darkest moments—and my ultimate confidant on speed dial.

i consider myself incredibly fortunate to have jaehyun by my side as i navigate the ups and downs of life. amidst the whirlwind of my extracurricular commitments, he selflessly takes on the burden of completing my other works, freeing me from overwhelming pressures. during times of sorrow, he refrains from hastily wiping away my tears, understanding the importance of letting me embrace my vulnerability without feeling the need to immediately regain composure, he willingly immerses himself in the joy of simple moments, meticulously stringing up christmas lights alongside me, and ensuring i stay hydrated by buying water after every physical education class when we were younger.

every seemingly mundane act he performs holds profound meaning—a testament to his unwavering devotion. jaehyun's constant presence throughout my journey of growth and discovery has transformed him into an inseparable part of my life, a constant reminder of the incredible person he is.

"hey, is everything alright?" he asks, a concerned look on his face. "you've been pretty quiet lately."

"just lost in my thoughts," i reply, my voice tinged with a hint of introspection.

"what's been on your mind?" he probes, genuine curiosity shining through.

"just a bunch of things, you know?" i answer, my tone suggesting a mix of contemplation and uncertainty.

"you sure you're alright?" he persists, his caring nature evident. "how about we go for a drive? just cruising around anaheim."

there's jaehyun, always somehow attuned to the inner workings of my mind, sensing my emotions without me even saying a word. he knows me better than anyone else, and that's what makes him so special.

i smile faintly at his concern, appreciating his ability to sense when something's bothering me. taking a drive with him around anaheim sounds like a comforting idea, a chance to clear my mind and perhaps find solace in his company.

"yeah, a drive sounds nice," i reply, my voice reflecting a mix of gratitude and longing. "let's go."

jaehyun's touch is gentle yet firm as he takes hold of my wrist, encouraging me to rise from my seat. we make our way up to the parking lot, where the bustling atmosphere threatens to engulf us. there, he holds me with such tenderness, as if afraid that i would slip away amidst the sea of people. his grip provides a comforting anchor, a silent reassurance that i am not alone in navigating the overwhelming world around us.

as we cruise along the road, jaehyun's animated voice fills the air, carrying his excitement for a future event that is still months away.

he enthusiastically discusses his plans of getting a real tree for this year's christmas—a small yet significant detail that warms my heart.

it is in these seemingly ordinary moments that i find solace, realizing that he not only cherishes our present connection but also envisions a future together. his words paint a picture of shared joy and anticipation, and it brings genuine happiness to my soul, knowing that he sees me as an integral part of his life.

"i mean, we could always stick with the old one," i suggest, a hint of hesitation in my voice.

jaehyun turns to me, a playful glint in his eyes. "but babe, we've had that tree for two whole years now. i think it's about time we switch things up and embrace a little change," he replies, his tone filled with gentle persuasion.

"yeah, you're right," i concede, acknowledging the practicality of considering our options with ample time. "we still have a lot of time to think about it."

jaehyun's response, however, carries a deeper sentiment. his words resonate with unwavering conviction, emphasizing his desire to make each passing winter season truly memorable. "whether it's months away or tomorrow, i want this year to be special," he declares, his voice brimming with a sense of unwavering commitment.

"i've loved you through three winters now, honey, and i want to spend all of my winters with you." his assurance flows effortlessly, as if he instinctively knows what my heart needs, even when i haven't explicitly voiced my concerns. his love for me radiates through his words, reassuring me that our connection is steadfast and enduring.

love endures. it's true, our journey hasn't always been smooth sailing. we've faced our fair share of challenges and obstacles along the way, but it's through those trials that our bond has grown stronger.

we've weathered storms, navigated through rough patches, and faced difficult moments that tested our commitment. yet, through it all, we've found the strength to endure, to hold on to the love we share. each hurdle has become an opportunity for growth and learning, as we've discovered the depths of our resilience and the power of our connection.

flashback, 4 years ago

ah, the stubbornness of our youth. i can relate. we've had our fair share of pushing people away and then desperately pulling them back into our lives, trapped in a toxic and exhausting cycle. life hasn't been particularly kind to me lately, but somehow, amidst the chaos, jaehyun remains steadfast by my side.

i often find myself wondering how he possesses such immense patience and endurance to withstand my unpredictable moods and behaviors. it's as if he possesses this innate ability to untangle the tangled threads in my mind with ease and tenderness.

"because i love you," he utters those words, calmly and unwaveringly, even when i snap at him. this period of my life has been anything but easy, yet he has remained a constant presence, a pillar of support.

it's not the first time he has spoken those words to me, offering his unwavering love and understanding. in response to his gentle declaration, all i can muster is a heartfelt apology.

"i'm sorry, jaehyun," i say, my voice laced with sincerity.

and like countless times before, his answer echoes with unwavering consistency, "i know."

the words he speaks are filled with immense consideration and love, as he delicately asks, "do you need space, baby? i understand that you're feeling lost right now."

overwhelmed by emotions, i can't find the words to respond. but he continues, his voice a gentle whisper, "i know you're tired, and truth be told, i am too. i don't want to pressure you into defining our relationship with labels. none of that matters to me. what truly matters is you. i just want you to know that if there ever comes a time when you can't promise me tomorrow, i will. and if there ever comes a time when you feel unable to promise me anything at all, i will still be here. i will patiently wait until you feel worthy of love, until you feel capable of loving. i will search for you in every corner of this world, but only when you're ready to be found. i will strive to give you everything, to make you feel cherished. so, please, my love."

his heartfeltwords wash over me, leaving me in awe of his unwavering devotion and understanding.

it's undeniable that i struggle with feeling incapable of loving and unworthy of his affection. it's a persistent sentiment that lingers within me, no matter how much time i've spent growing up with him, nearly my entire life intertwined with his. despite our shared history, i can't shake the sensation that i'll never truly grasp the familiarity of this path we're on.

"just be honest with me, y/n," he pleads, his voice filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability.

"i'm so sorry, jaehyun," i whisper, a hint of sadness tingling my words. "baby, i would give anything to stop time and wholeheartedly commit to you. i want to share all of my tomorrows with you. i am lost, but not in you, not because of you. i don't need space, jaehyun. in fact, i want you right here, by my side. i want you here, just here, with me."

in that moment, i bare my soul, expressing my deepest desires and vulnerabilities. despite my own internal struggles, i recognize the immense value and significance of having him by my side. his presence brings comfort and stability in a world that often seems overwhelming. i long for him to understand that, although i may be grappling with my own sense of direction, his love is a guiding light, a source of strength that anchors me in the present.

——— ♡

those moments of hardship have shaped us, teaching us valuable lessons about patience, understanding, and forgiveness. we have learned to communicate better, to support each other, and to find solace in knowing that we are in this together.

our journey hasn't always been easy, but it's precisely because of those challenges that our love stands firm today. we know the depth of our commitment, and we appreciate the beauty of the endurance we've built together. it's a testament to our shared strength and the unwavering love that binds us, transcending any obstacles that may come our way.

#jeong jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fluff #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #jaehyun angst #yo0nzino #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x y/n #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun au #nct x reader #nct angst #nct fluff #nct imagines #Spotify

[mysticfoxdesigns]

Who is your favorite human character from Rescue Bots?

(yet another example of a seemingly short post turning long)

My favorite human character in Rescue Bots has been tied between Kade and Dani. Dani is just a really fun character and I feel myself relating to her and her daredevilness. She in all is a pretty popular character as well.

Now I know that people don't generally like Kade

But I have my reasons.

I love asshole characters, especially ones that could be considered loveable assholes. I considered Kade to be one of the characters, even if the show didn't handle the trope well. Kade is honestly a character that needs to grow on you. Sometimes it's quick, sometimes it takes all four seasons. For me, it was the second episode.

That episode was honestly the peak of being an older sibling. How I know? I'm an older sibling.

In that episode we see our general Kade characteristics. He is egotistical, a jerk to Heatwave, and a jerk to members of his family. I honestly believe these are valid reasons to not like him, especially if your favorites are Heatwave or Cody. (Yes I am calling y'all out) However, he still cares about all of them, especially for the bots after that episode.

Kade literally older sibling freaked out when it was revealed Cody was in danger. He (mostly) kept his calm cause he is a first responder, that is in the job description to keep a level head, but he was still scared about Cody's safety. His first priority was getting there first to stop the lava, and when Heatwave revealed he was also scared for the younger Burns child, that is what started Kade's respect for him.

Now I will admit, how he got with Hayley was not a good example for a kids show. No one owes you a date just cause you save their life. However, if Hayley truly was not interested later on after that, she wouldn't continue going on dates with him. Their relationship from what we see in the show isn't the healthiest, but it's nothing bad to be purely honest. Hayley has boundaries she clearly sets, as seen in the episode where Kade gets cloned 5 times over. She speaks her mind to him, and pushes him to not be a complete jerk. And Kade respects her wishes! The show, if it did focus more on their relationship, could have pushed for Kade to have more character growth as their relationship grew. However, the show was not built to work with that kind of story plot.

As for how Kade acts with his family, you can see he instantly backtracks when he realizes his words have hurt his family. I truly believe he doesn't think before he speaks. A character flaw, yes, but it does not represent his true morals and ethics. He wouldn't be on a rescue team if he was a truly terrible person. In the episode where the bots are struck with a sickness from the meteor, he tries to rationalize the situation in his own way of coping. But as soon as he realizes that the way of coping he was using wasn't helping Cody, he changes his tune to support Cody's way of coping. In the Squilsh episode, we see him try to argue that he should be the last to leave the area, he didn't want to leave Graham behind and alone. It was Chief having to push him to Blade's ladder to make him leave and get to safety.

And it isn't like we don't see him being anything but an egotistical asshole, we see him genuinely scared. The gremlins episode is a perfect example of this. Kade had a big phobia of them, he barely got any sleep cause of nightmares dealing with them, and he didn't want to enter the power plant cause of it being overrun by them. However, it isn't like he didn't do anything to overcome it. He went to Doc Greene to find a solution, and when it did backfire, Kade didn't back down. Heatwave also showed some great character development in this episode, he didn't make fun of Kade too much for his fear, and even encouraged him to get into the powerplant. Kade was then able to overcome the fear, showing growth in his character.

And on the topic of Heatwave and Kade's relationship. They remind me so much of my own relationship with one of my best friends. We make fun of each other, we are assholes to each other, he makes fun of my autism, I make fun of him being a twink. But we are still best friends. We know the limits and boundaries of our jokes, and it isn't just us being assholes to each other 24/7. We have genuine hearts to hearts, we give each other advice, and we help each other out through difficulties in our life. This is exactly what Heatwave and Kade's relationship is, though not a direct parallel to my relationship.

Heatwave isn't innocent in the beginning with how he treats Kade, just as Kade is not innocent. They are both unfiltered, unreasonable assholes to each other. Heatwave is mad that Optimus Prime won't let him join the Prime Team, and he takes that out on being a pessimistic jerk to the situation they are in. He does not want to be on Griffin Rock, and that is evident. Kade, doesn't reasonably want to work and be inside of an alien. ANY REASONABLE PERSON WOULD BE LIKE THAT. However, it does not excuse his treatment of Heatwave, who is another sentient being. Heatwave is a genuine jerk throughout the first season. It is evident he only cares about his team and Cody. The flobster's episode is a good example of this, he won't care until it is his job. Now, he does grow out of this, which is good cause character development, we love that here.

As the season goes on we see their relationship develop into this friendly "I hate your guts but I will kill for you" situation. (Obviously they do not actually hate each other's guts, but they still act like it) This kind of character development is my favorite! The show does a good job at showing this as well. If you compare the first few episodes of season 1, with the episodes of season 3 and 4, you can see how their relationship has changed. Neither of them are scared to speak their mind, and there is obviously respect in the relationship. Kade and Heatwave have grown to understand and respect each other, while still being jerks to each other. Heatwave is not afraid to make fun of Kade and vice versa, which honestly I believe is a clear sign of a good and healthy relationship. You can point out flaws in each other, and no one is going to instantly get butthurt. Boundaries just have to be established and maintained.

I wish the show could have further explored more of these character developments, not just in Kade but in everyone. However, it is a kids show meant for preschoolers, they just want to watch cool transforming robots save the day.

Another thing with Kade is that it is so fun in the fandom sphere to add headcanons and backstory. I love a character who you can do that with.

#rescue bots #transformers rescue bots #tf rescue bots #tfrb #mystic chaos #mysticfox rambles #ask response #ask answered #anon ask #tfrb kade #kade burns #character analysis

[bloomingdayswithyou]

Heyy, how are you? İ saw your requests was open so here i am 🧍can i request a hongjoong fluff or hurt comfort type of thing?? Im studying animation and game design in uni but i dont feel like i belong here. Finding motivation was always hard for me but its worse than ever in uni and my depression isnt helping either haHa- like for a while i stopped eating properly, not sleeping more than a few hours in a day and always do oil paintings, kinda locked myself home alone and cant find any strength to do something.

İf you cant write its alright tho!! Love you and your works <3

Guiding Light

Pairing: Hongjoong x gn!reader

Warnings: none, just angst with a good ending<3

Word count: 646

Author’s note: hi!! thanks for the request🤍 honestly I’m kind of going through something similar and just wanted to say that you’re not alone in this even though it might seem like it. Wishing you strength and healing on your journey as you pursue game design and animation or whatever you feel is right for you. 🌸

You sat alone in your small apartment, staring at your computer’s screen which displayed a few unfinished assignments. The room was dimly lit, mirroring the haze of emotions that consumed them. The weight of depression and anxiety had become almost too much to bear, leaving you feeling lost and disconnected. Hongjoong had noticed the subtle changes in your demeanor over the past few weeks. As he knocked softly on the door, his heart filled with concern for the person he cared deeply about.

"It's me," Hongjoong called out gently, hoping to offer some comfort in your darkest hour.

Slowly, you opened the door, your eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and relief at seeing Hongjoong's caring face. "Hey," Hongjoong said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "I brought something for you." He held out a cup of warm tea, knowing it could be a small source of comfort. You took the cup with a weak smile, grateful for Hongjoong's presence. You settled on the couch together, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light around you.

"You know," Hongjoong began gently, "everyone faces moments when they doubt themselves or feel overwhelmed. It's okay to have those feelings. You don't have to be strong all the time."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you couldn't help but spill your emotions to Hongjoong. You shared your struggles with finding motivation, your fears of not belonging, and all of the other burdens that seemed to weigh you down. Hongjoong listened attentively, his heart aching for you. "You're not alone in this," he said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I'm here, and I care about you so much."

He pulled you into a warm embrace, creating a safe space where you could let your emotions flow freely. Hongjoong's presence was a guiding light in the darkness, offering solace and understanding.

"Sometimes, we need to take a step back and breathe," Hongjoong continued. "And it's okay to ask for help when we need it. You don't have to carry this burden alone." You clung to him, finding comfort in his words and his unwavering support. You realized that you didn't have to face your struggles alone, that Hongjoong was there to walk beside them every step of the way.

With Hongjoong's encouragement, you began to open up about how you feel with animation and game design, the dreams that had once fueled your creativity. Hongjoong listened with genuine interest, reminding you of the talent and potential you possessed.

"You are meant to be here," Hongjoong said firmly. "Your art and your creativity are unique and special. Don't let anyone or anything make you doubt that."

As the night wore on, you felt a glimmer of hope reigniting within you. Hongjoong's words acted as a balm to your wounded soul, soothing the ache of self-doubt and depression. "I'm here for you," Hongjoong said, brushing away a tear from your cheek. "And we'll get through this together. Your art, your dreams, they matter. And so do you."

In the days that followed, Hongjoong stood by your side, offering unwavering support and encouragement. They started to find motivation in your passion once again, your creativity slowly returning like the first rays of dawn after a long night.

As time passed, your art flourished once more, fueled by the newfound strength and love you had found in Hongjoong's embrace. Through the darkest of storms and the brightest of days, you held onto each other, knowing that with Hongjoong by your side, you could weather any storm and find the courage to embrace your dreams once more.

.

.

.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez fluff #ateez angst #hongjoong angst #ateez x reader #ateez x male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #kpop fluff #kpop angst

[callofdudes]

hello, sorry if this is rude, but I wanted to ask why you write Ghost the way you do?? I haven't played the games yet but I've been seeing some people debating on others writing him different ways.

Hey anon, I don't think it's rude. Now, if I understand this correct, yes, there are people who have been debating and even aggressive toward some people who write for different characters.

But I'll break down why I write Simon why I do.

First off, for those who haven't played the games and haven't looked into a character further than their sex appeal; Simon isn't heartless and rottenly cold.

He's not. Nor would he push around and hurt people who are in his circle on purpose. Going back to 2009 when Simon was shown in the og trilogy he was very close to captain MacTavish and made jokes and comments all throughout the game. While he's still very much professional, he has that balance.

It's shown, even in the new game that Simon cares deeply. One reason I think people want to think he's so cold because that's how he likes to present himself. But in the military, being particularly scary is probably favorable. That and being in the military as long as Simon or Price has, they have probably learned not to get too close to soldiers.

Since the sad part it, there's a very high chance they won't make it long.

And an intimacy issue. I've seen people getting upset because some people write Simon to flinch at every little touch. And while I think part of that has truth, Simon 100% has intimacy issues.

And this is partly me projecting into him, because Simon wouldn't be raised how he was and not have issues or extremely negative views and experiences around intimacy. And I doubt the military encouraged any different.

While I don't think he would flinch at every single thing, certain things are completely beyond his limits. I personally had a very abusive relative who always wanted hugs and I was always forced to hug her and be close to her. And since getting away I am extremely careful and particular about who hugs me.

I am uncomfortable hugging people who aren't in that selected little few, and really I'm still only 100% with hugs from my dad.

So does Simon have intimacy issues, absolutely he does. He doesn't know affection, and for someone who hasn't known a lot of a affection it can come off like a red flag or a trigger because they aren't used to it happening so in their mind; something must be wrong.

And a lot of affection can take Simon out of things. Like myself, if he's love bombed he is out of it and needs to step away because... Like what does he do? That's too much in one place at one time. Big boundaries.

But Simon is also gentle. Just because all of these things have happened to him doesn't mean he's always nasty. He's very gentle toward someone who shares an up bringing or even just a situation like he had. He's gentle with hostages and with kids when he finds them on the field. While he may not like children, he doesn't do anything to openly show that.

Touch-starved. All I need to say. When Someone like Johnny, or Reader gives Simon affection that he likes, he wants it all.

Like snuggles, when Simon comes to the realization of how much he just genuinely and innocently likes the company of a close body with warm arms wrapped around him, he wants more. He wants what they can give him. He needs to trust them though.

Simon is very closed off only until he's with those he is close with.

And yes, Simon is strong, but that does not mean he can't have mental struggles. Simon, in my world has had struggles with food because I have.

Simon can have anxiety and still be able to throw out quips and quick remarks like when johnny and him were bantering in the alone mission about his mask. He can have both.

You can be both confident in your profession and lacking confidence in another field. I see this a lot with König as well. They are both firm and know the drill and are very, very confident in their field of work because they know it.

But taken out of that head space and thrown into something casual of domestic for a bit and it completely takes them out and gives them anxiety.

Simon can be self conscious of his body and his stretch marks and still have confidence in other things.

And this is just how I personally like to write Simon. There is probably a lot more I missed but off the top of my head this is how I write him. And I enjoy writing him like this, and I'm glad others do as well.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #call of duty headcanons #simon riley #simon ghost riley headcanons #i guess?? #ask #thank you for asking

[naneun-no]

🎈Happy birthday Namjoon 🎈

One of my favorite things he’s ever said, and he’s said a lot of intelligent, thoughtful things, was a comment he made during their hiatus announcement video last Summer.

I’m gonna paraphrase, but he essentially said that out of the myriad of realities in the multiverse, he genuinely believed (or wanted to believe) that he was living in the best possible one. That he was living the best possible outcome of all the random realities for Kim Namjoon that there are.

And wow, that hit me.

At first, it didn’t. I had recently lost a pregnancy, painfully and traumatically; I was grieving that and watching the world seem to fall apart around me, and struggling to find the will to keep going, to keep caring, to keep watching all the girls who were pregnant at the same time as me have healthy, beautiful babies and to click the “❤️” button rather than scream at them to shut the fuck up about how “blessed” they are.

So for a second I scoffed at him, like, “well no shit he’s living in the best reality; he’s a famous, successful and beloved celebrity with more money than he knows what to do with.” I mean — that’s the alternate reality we all would like to wake up and find ourselves in at least some days, right?

And, well, fair enough. But his words stuck with me, and the more I thought about them, the more I realized his words were deeper than that. I think they were about cultivating joy, and gratitude, and intention, and putting effort into making the life you’re living, no matter what it looks like, the best it could possibly be, out of all the random dice rolls in the universe.

And that’s a powerful fucking decision to make.

There are forces outside our control, of course there are. There are things we can’t escape, realities we can’t change. But there are almost always more things that we can change than things we cannot. And one of the biggest ones is our perspective.

What would the world look like if we all decided, individually, to make this right here our best reality? To stop wishing we were someone else doing something else somewhere else. To instead wholeheartedly believe that this is the chosen life, the one that deserves all of our effort, all of our passion, all of our attention. I think it would be transformative.

I encourage you to try it, even just for a day. Believe that your life is charmed, that it is destined and fated to matter. I’m not talking about manifesting, I’m talking about choosing.

Since hearing those words from him, I’ve tried to make small changes, everyday changes, but intentional ones, to enjoy the life I find myself in. To appreciate it, really appreciate it, despite its hardships, despite its ugliness, despite its many, many imperfections. To write more, to feel more, to forgive more, to listen more. To smile and dance around in my kitchen to KPop songs more. To tell my husband I love him more.

I can promise you that while my reality has not changed much at all since last Summer, it has nonetheless risen in my esteem. I can agree with him now; I can say that I too, am living in the best possible reality, out of the myriad of them that there may be, floating out there in the ether.

Maybe in one of them I am smarter, cleverer, notable for accomplishing something great. Maybe in one of them I’m more popular, more loved, more lauded.

But in this one, I am me, right where I am. And I choose to believe that that is no accident.

When he gifted those words to me that day, it was just that: a gift. And maybe I’m silly to read so much into a throwaway sentence from a pop star, but I’m not sure that’s what it was. I think it was vulnerable, thoughtful encouragement from a man who has enough power and wealth to be anything but vulnerable and thoughtful. And yet, he chooses to be.

Thank you, Namjoon. And happy birthday 💙

#happy birthday Namjoon #kim namjoon #kim namjoon bts #namjoon #namjoon birthday #Namjoon the philosopher

[tepkunset]

Top Surgery Journey Part 1

16 was the worst age of my life. My mother was diagnosed with stage-three breast cancer. We were evicted from our house and had to move again, this time to a shitty thin-walled apartment with drug-dealers for neighbours. I was half-way through my first year of high school, where I was bulled for what might as well have been a glowing neon “I have autism” sign strapped to my back. And I realized I liked girls—that terrified me almost as much as the threat of losing my mom.

My father used to tell me and my brother that the two things we were not allowed to be were gay or clergy. He said things like “all gay people should be put on an island” – your typical homophobic rhetoric. As an autistic child, I took him literally, and thought that if I was gay, he would discard me on an island to die. Living in Nova Scotia, it’s not like there’s a lack of islands around where he could have done so, in my mind. That probably sounds ridiculous to read if you’re neurotypical, but it’s what I genuinely thought at the time.

It wasn’t until my early 20’s that I started coming out to people as liking women. By that time my parents had divorced and I started looking after my mother and brother. I became more accepting of my sexuality, especially thanks to the encouragement from online queer spaces. And when I became more accepting of my sexuality, I started to question my gender as well. There were so many things that trans/non-binary people spoke of that I could identify within myself; things I never questioned before, or just assumed everyone felt that way. It prompted me to think about all the things that made me feel outside of my gender growing up, such as the intense jealousy I felt over my mother’s double mastectomy.

I know, right? It’s true though. She survived cancer, and all I could think of was how much I wished I could be rid of my breasts, too.

I was late in puberty. It didn’t start to hit until about age 15, so I was very new to the developing breasts I hated so very much, at the same time my mother was getting rid of hers. But when they came, they came in heavy. I was genetically cursed with a large chest, and it made shopping suddenly a nightmare for me, because I preferred the men’s section. I started the habit of buying clothing twice my size to hide my body. I hated looking at myself in the mirror, because I felt disgusted with what I saw at best, or like I didn’t want a body at all at worst. I stopped going swimming; something I used to enjoy. Despite my family history, I never did breast exams because I couldn’t stand to think about them in such detail. One of the reasons I hate exercise in general is because I hate the sensation of my breasts moving so much, even when packed in sports bras. All because I know now, having been professionally diagnosed over a decade later, I have gender dysphoria.

(Insert here a reminder that not all transgender people have gender dysphoria, and that doesn’t make them any less trans. I am purely speaking about my own experiences!)

It’s only been a few years that I’ve opened up about my nonconformity to the western gender binary to the people I know in real life. Most of my close co-workers are 50+ years old cishet white women, who while mean well, are quite ignorant of gender diversity. I’ve been fortunate to only have to deal with one co-worker who did not respond well to my request to stop calling me “yes missy”, “yes girl”, “yes ma’am”, insisting it was just what they were taught from their generation and that I needed to respect that. But my manager has been very supportive, and made it very clear that it’s expected I be treated with respect, too. (She also added a rainbow flag to her email signature with the line “I respect inclusion”, which I thought was cute.)

My top surgery is two weeks away now, and I’m so excited to get it done that I think about it before bed every night. Knowing that soon I will be going to sleep on a table and then waking up with a flat chest is thrilling. Thinking about how much this is going to change my life is thrilling. I have worries about the surgery itself of course—I’ve only been under anaesthesia once when I was very little; too little to remember. I’ve never been on high pain-killers before. I worry about the drainage tubes and looking after them. But I figure these concerns are probably very normal, and I have to remind myself that people every day are going through the same surgery I’m about to go through. The surgeon who will be operating on me has almost two decades of experience. The clinic I’m going to in Montréal has a good reputation, from what I’ve been able to hear from others. There’s reason to believe things will go well.

#top surgery

[cringelordofchaos]

Okay I think my obsession with Albert flamingo is getting concerning once again

I mean I was UTERRLY OBSESSED WITH HIM for like TWO YEARS STRAIGHT about two years ago to the point of it being detrimental to my social status

I would literally make the Albert "sus face" and my classmates would just say "ah they're doing that thing with their face again" and everyone would have me for it lol 😂😊😂😂

I made weird toys out of genuine trash with bad faces drawn on them inspired by his mannequins and I'd bring them everywhere

I would constantly sing earthworm Sally for years straight and my avatar was earthworm Sally too and people would say that the earthworm Sally meme is outdated and I would get so mad

My whole RECCOMENDED page on YouTube was just filled with flamingo. And NOTHING else. For like a year at least. Most likely more

I would rewatch videos over and over again and reference his memes all the time except literally I didn't know a single person that also watched flamingo

I drew fabart of him and Felipe

There were certain videos I would watch whenever I got sad. Like the one about paralysis demons, idk the way he reacted to the lesbian couple in the game really comforted me ig?? or the video that had Mario time in it (aka 03:37 AM), and him playing royale high, or superstar planet, or more stuff like that

I would listen to earthworm Sally remix on YouTube over and over again and I annoyed my family to death with it

Sometimes I would cry over just how much I loved his content personality and how much it felt like he raised my childhood and how much personality I would steal from him

Sometimes I just wanted to BE Albert. To WEAR HIS SKIN ON ME and BE HIM to the core of my heart and sometimes I would get genuinely UPSET over the fact that I am NOT him and never will be (and it happened again last night)

Now all of it is happening AGAIN except I have a whole year of his content to catch up on, and except I am less obvious about it. I mean, the only content on YouTube I'm capable of watching as of now is flamingo, so my siblings can tell I am getting obsessed, but overall I'm a bit more reserved (a shy little boy I am) and would feel way too embarrassed about doing random faces in public like that

And I've noticed I started watching him more like - 3 days ago ? And I've realized my brain will involuntarily make me think of random things HE says in HIS voice and sometimes my inner dialogue would turn into his voice

... Uh yeah

Idk if I should be too concerned. I mean I get pretty obsessive about my hobbies and interests and I always return to my old ones and it's happening with flamingo

Oopsyy

Anyway since I'm already imagining myself with his voice I am giving permission to everyone following me to imagine me with his voice too, in fact I encourage it

I AM GOING TOM WEAR HIS SKIN

(and now Im going to write crackfics about Felipe)

#albert flamingo #albert aretz #mrflimflam