#and one of possible reasons for that fallout of friendship

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 14

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst by the buckets.

'We should talk.' 

'I'd rather not.' 

It's been two days.

Two days since you've been in his presence, avoiding every mention and sight of him, making yourself as scarce as possible.

Two days since you kissed him.

Your body heats up at the memory. The way he grabbed you, held you close, returned your feverish kisses with some of his own.

You look down at your phone, swallowing when you see the read receipts light up on the message you just sent.

In true Billy fashion, he doesn't respond.

What a fucking pain in the ass, you think angrily. 

You shake your head, dropping your phone onto your desk and throwing yourself into your work.

This time, you're not worried about possible fallouts, he'd definitely kissed you back, right?

Fuck, what a kiss. Your toes curled at the memory, a spot deep inside you aching, emphasizing the emptiness inside of you.

It was too much, the knowledge of what his mouth tasted like, the feel of his passionate hands on your body.

How could you ever hope to forget that it had happened? Did you even want to?

The answer was no.

You didn't want to forget it, and you didn't think it was a mistake either.

But it definitely wasn't a good thing.

Especially now, when your relationship had grown more strained in the last two days.

Friendship, what a dumb word.

If you weren't still upset with him, you'd probably go back up to his office and grip him by his stupid tie once more. 

You think about kissing him again, kicking one leg over his hip, grinding your body against his. Maybe you'd slip between his legs and pull his thick cock out of his pants-

You gasp, blinking back into reality, aware that you've been staring at the same sentence for minutes now.

You swallow, clicking the document away with a sigh.

You toss your head back in your chair, take a small stretch, try to remind yourself why you were mad at Billy.

Right, he was too indecisive. One moment he holds you close and tells you the most amazing things, the next he's avoiding you.

If you followed through on any of your fantasies with him, there was a high chance that he'd ghost you afterwards.

He probably just didn't like you as much as you'd hoped.

It was a painful thought. 

.

He was watching you.

Like the world's biggest creep.

Billy didn't completely understand why you were angry with him, but it was killing him inside. He needed to know, he needed to fix it.

It had been two days and he hadn't seen you in person since. You'd become very good at avoiding him. 

The absolute torment of seeing you everyday to not at all and all he had was the memory of a kiss that still made his lips tingle and his cock hard.

Now, the only way he could see you was on the little camera feed tucked into a corner wall of the office workspace area.

The camera quality was grainy, really just put in and not monitored unless there was an issue.

Billy had opened the feed five times in the last two days.

It was getting ridiculous, he didn't want another day to go by without trying to talk to you. You'd given him a rather clear message to leave you alone, but he couldn't, not after knowing how hurt you were, and definitely not after he found out how sweet your mouth tasted.

Like fucking strawberries.

He needed to make amends. 

.

You regret not going out tonight when Amy had offered. You could have been at a nice bar right now, sipping on a fancy margarita, laughing with your friends.

But you’d turned them down.

Why the fuck had you turned them down?

Friday night, and you’d just decided to take a bath and lie in bed.

It wasn't so bad, you reasoned, you only wished you were with them because you were in bed. If you'd been at the bar, you'd be sitting there, wishing you were here instead.

You smile, your therapist might praise you for becoming that level of self aware.

When there's a knock at your door, you raise your head in surprise.

Logically, it could only be one person. The one with the appropriate security clearance to make it up to your door without you being informed beforehand.

You take a deep breath, wondering what he would possibly want to say to you at a time like this.

You’re greeted with flowers. 

You see them before you see his face, pink and white tulips, wrapped in a rustic brown paper and some thread that’s looped tightly around your chest just comes loose at the sight of him.

What did you address him as now? William? Mister Russo? Billy? What did you call your boss that you’d kissed in a heated rush in his office during working hours?

“Hey.” Is all you end up saying.

He says your name in greeting, looking down at the bouquet in his arms for a second. 

“May I come in?”

May he? Was this a good idea?

You nod, pulling your door wider and sidestepping to let him in.

“Is there… something I can help you with?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He comments, avoiding your eyes.

Straight to the point.

“Yes.” You agree.

He finally turns to look at you, something unnameable in his eyes.

“Why?” He asks.

You give him a smile of apology, eyes drifting to the tulips still in his arms.

“Those for me?”

He nods, extending them out to you.

Your hands brush as you take them, turning away from him to find a place for them.

“They’re beautiful,” You state, “How did you know they were my favourite?”

"I didn’t.” He says, the awkwardness between you is as palpable as if it were a third person standing in the room.

He's silent as you take your time, searching for the appropriate vase to put them in. You press your nose to them and hum happily as the soft petals touch your cheek.

"Would you like something to drink?" You offer, turning to him.

He swallows.

"No. Why are you avoiding me?" He presses, going straight to the point.

You grin quietly into the flowers.

"I feel like you avoided me first." You hedge the question, looking eagerly at him for a response.

He looks a little irked, looking away from you and taking a deep breath, pretending to study your apartment.

"That's what this is about?"

"In part, you just kind of piss me off in general."

He raises his eyebrows in astonishment, still not meeting your eyes.

"Well this is confusing, considering that you kissed me." He challenges.

You wanted to rage at him, curse his stunning looks and captivating personality for pulling you into him, and this mindset of affection toward him.

Instead you suck in a breath.

"I feel like everytime we get close- as friends- you just… you pull as far away from me as humanly possible."

You let out a long sigh, leaving the bouquet of tulips in their spot on your kitchen counter, moving to plop onto your couch in a dramatic flourish.

You grab one of your throw pillows, setting it in your lap and squeezing tightly.

“Of course I’m avoiding you,” You continue, “I’m just expecting you to pull away again.”

You look at him for a moment, as he takes in your words. You can almost watch him process them, eyelids fluttering as he maybe debates internally.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says, coming to sit beside you on your couch. His eyes are earnest and warm, and it takes you by surprise.

You honestly doubted he’s said those words to many people.

“I push you away, I do, when I first offered you the job, you said that you weren’t interested if I was only doing it to get involved with you.”

He swallows, he looks so nervous that your heart almost breaks for him.

“I just didn’t want you to think that was true.” He continues, “You’re a good employee, but the more I get to know you, the more I want to, and I find that very dangerous.”

“Billy.” You say in a measured tone, waiting for him to stop avoiding your gaze and look at you directly.

“I believe you. You’ve made it very clear that you think I’m good for the job and I respect that.”

You can feel something shift between you, the animosity turning into understanding.

“I want to know you better too.” You finish, voice soft, earnest.

He blinks quickly, looking away. You can’t help your body’s response to him, the memory of his mouth on yours sparking up ill-timed tingles.

“I don’t want anyone devaluing your work because we’re close.” He responds.

Chest constricting, you smile sadly.

“I- that means a lot to me. But, people will find any excuse to do what they want. I just want to be true to myself and let the pieces fall where they have to.”

He looks at you, the corners of his mouth pulling subtly upwards.

“So, you forgive me then?”

You reach for his hand, covering it with yours, giving an affectionate squeeze.

“Of course I do.”

He turns his hand upward, interlocking your fingers, eyes drifting down to look at your joined hands.

Tingles spread from where he touches, moving from your arm all the way up to your chest. You gulp, looking at him, studying his face, remembering the kiss.

That damned kiss.

You watch him take a deep breath, and he looks up at you. It’s a long and heated moment and he doesn’t look away, doesn’t pull back.

You don’t know who moves, or if you both do, like magnets being pulled into each other, a force of attraction that cannot be seen with the bare eye, cannot be felt by anyone else other than you.

He’s so close that your noses almost brush. You can feel his warm breath dancing across your skin in little puffs.

"We, we um," You try to focus on anything other than his lips, looking into his half opened dark eyes as you try to speak, "We shouldn't be alone together."

"No?" He asks softly, a little tilt of his head and you watch his eyes drop to your lips, "Why's that?"

"Because..." You trail off.

Because I can't keep myself in control around you, you want to say.

Instead, you close the distance between your bodies, leaning in to kiss him.

A low sigh leaves the back of your throat as your lips meet. You feel your stomach flip happily at the reunion of your mouths.

He groans, the vibrations tingle against your lips, his large hand rising to cup your jaw, warm thumb stroking over your cheek.

You move closer, till you're almost in his lap, your fingers twitch nervously as your hands rest on his chest, sliding their way up into his hair.

You try to fight the urgency, the impatience scratching at the back of your head to just take and take and take.

Your lips part, gently tracing the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip for only a second before pulling back. 

He makes an abrupt sound, drawing back suddenly, breaking the kiss. His movements are so surprising that you lean away from him and allow him the space to stand.

Your heart squeezes as you look at his back.

You're almost afraid to ask.

"Is everything okay?"

He doesn't speak for a long moment, raising a hand to rake through his hair.

"Yes, just wanted to check- are you sure about this?"

You blink.

"Yes, I am... are you? It's okay if you don't like me that much, we can stop."

He spins around as if you've said something positively absurd.

"Like you? You think I don't like you?"

You look down sadly, smoothing a hand over your knees.

"Well, yeah, you, you dismiss me sometimes as if you're not interested. It can come across as dislike, or even a little mean."

"Mean?" He says, taking long strides to stand before you, your head tilting down to follow his form as he kneels before you.

He looks at you for too long, and you have to look away or melt into a puddle under the pull of his dark eyes.

Carefully, he raises his hands to cover yours, smoothing over your skin with the tips of his fingers.

"When I'm around you, I'm usually using every ounce of strength I have to stop myself, to hold back so that I don't scare you off."

He swallows, tilting his head, his eyes locked on your joined hands.

"I want so many things, and you most of all. I've just been shit at showing it."

"You really have." You agree.

A smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

You raise a hand, cupping his cheek softly, thumb exploring the pout of his lips, the scratch of his beard.

His eyebrows draw together, he leans in, rubbing his bearded cheek into your hand.

"I'm worried," He whispers, "That I won't be able to stop."

"I trust you." You say to him softly, reaching up with your other hand to curl your fingers into the collar of his shirt.

"And I don't want you to stop." 

You pull him in then, his body pressed to yours as you seal your lips together in a heated rush. Your body trembles with the sensation of having him all around you, so close like he's the layer of air surrounding you.

His hands cup your cheeks, blunted fingers gripping tight, daring you to be apart from him for more than the space of a breath.

Your insides unfurl with something akin to delight, your toes curl. You lean into him more, accepting anything he's willing to give, and answering with desire of your own. 

You fight to keep the kiss slow, enjoy the way his mouth moves sinfully on yours. 

But it's too powerful, this need you have for him, you want to scratch and claw and submit and surrender and take and it just turns like a tornado in your head until you're biting gently on his bottom lip, tugging on it with careful precision, body pulsing as you hear the low sound that leaves him.

He draws away for a moment looking at you with even eyes.

"You torment me." He whispers, pressing his lips to yours once more, any pretence of slow and careful being thrown out of the window.

You torment me too, you want to say.

He rises, pushing you back until your body lies flat on your couch, and he hovers above you. You keep his mouth firm to yours, fingers tangled in his soft hair, exploring his back and shoulders, and when you part your lips again, jutting your tongue out playfully, you're delighted when you meet his tongue in return.

Your legs on either side of his hips gripping him tight, daring him to pull away from you as he kisses you senseless, your tongues dancing together in wet bliss.

"I could kiss you all night." Billy says between kisses.

You nod, humming in agreement, pulling his mouth back to yours.

Your skin tingles, his careful fingers tracing your cheeks and moving down your neck. 

You arch your body against his eagerly, so willing to give every part of yourself to him.

He slides his hand into the space between your arched back and the couch, keeping your body curved into his, your breasts rubbing against his chest, you wiggle your hips in an attempt to ease the near painful ache between your thighs.

You feel his cock then, stiff against his pants, and he groans into your mouth when your hips chase the firm sensation.

He whispers your name against your lips, a warm, broken sound of a man losing control of himself.

"Billy," You gasp, foreheads pressed together, resisting the heat of desire pulsing between your bodies, "I need you." 

You feel his entire body shudder.

He nods, nose brushing yours as his lips move away from yours, kissing your jaw instead, and then the curve of your neck.

You cry out, his teeth worrying your skin, scraping against your sanity, soothing with gentle swipes of his tongue.

You feel yourself tremble, and tremble further when he moves down your body, frustrated hands pushing your dress up your thighs so that the bunched fabric settles on your hips.

He doesn't move for a moment, and you raise your head in worry to see him staring at the space between your parted thighs intensely.

"You don't have to." You whisper, misreading the expression on his face.

His dark eyes meet yours, he tilts his head for a moment, before his eyes drop to your clothed cunt once more. 

"It's not that." He says, his hands starting at your ankles and sliding their way up your legs, "I've just thought about this a lot."

You bite down on your bottom lip very hard, trying to remain focused, and not beg him to fuck you within an inch of your life.

His hands stop midway between your knees and your ass, and he looks up at you.

"You want this?" He asks.

You almost groan in frustration.

"Yes, yes I really do."

"Tell me." 

You gulp.

"Tell you?" You ask, your head too disoriented to focus on what he's asking you to do.

"Tell me you want me to lick your cunt."

A little needy sound leaves you at his words. You clench around nothing, gathering your thoughts for a second before you speak.

"Billy," You finally whisper, "Please, lick my... cunt." 

A devilish smile pulls at his lips.

"Of course." He hums, his hands resuming their upward trail.

He grips either side of your underwear and you tilt your hips up, watching him anxiously, trying to read every expression on his face.

You know you're wet, that you've most likely soaked the gusset of your panties with your arousal. 

You study him, as he tugs your undergarment off your legs and lays his eyes on your bare center for the first time.

His lips part, eyes dark as he looks at you. You watch his throat bob as he swallows.

Your breath catches as you feel the tips of his fingers graze your wet slit. Your mouth drops open at the gentle sensation.

His thumb finds your clit easily, grazing the swollen bud and you let out a harsh sob, back dropping onto the couch, unable to hold your body up.

"So. Fucking. Pretty." Billy says, so clearly that it makes you ache even more for him.

You groan when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, leaving careless tingles in the wake of his mouth, he kisses his way over your skin, and there's a short moment of pause where you feel a puff of his breath against your aching core before his mouth is on you.

A sweet kiss between your legs, a gentle promise to ease the ache inside you, and then he extends his tongue to slide against your clit.

It's like lightning, the speed at which the pleasure fills you, passing through you, amplifying, with the careful stroke of his tongue.

He groans between your thighs, his first taste of you leading to palms gripping at your thighs, fingers pressing into soft skin to keep you close.

His next lick is firmer, over and over again his tongue swipes over your clit, he makes another low moan, and the next glide of his tongue starts at your entrance and trails up to your clit.

You mewl, hands moving to cover your mouth, then down to cup his hands in yours, any attempt to process the delicious burn of pleasure blooming under your skin.

You sigh his name, you swear he answers with an easy swipe of his tongue.

It’s too much, embarrassingly so because he’s only just begun and here you are- already on edge for him.

Your resistance is futile.

His tongue claims ownership of your most delicate parts.

You never stood a chance.

Panting, your nails clawing at his hands, hearing his low voice hum in bliss between your thighs.

You make another soft groan of his name, it’s all you know, all you can remember in the hazy confines of your mind.

How is his tongue so skilled? How can he kindle you so easily? You are firewood and he’s a spark and now you’re burning just for him.

His beard tickles your thighs, you realised he’s paused his torment to kiss at your skin.

You’re helpless to it.

You can hear each desperate breath you take, it echoes in your ears, and then you let out another whine as he kisses your dripping cunt once again.

Filthy wet sounds as he takes care of you, tantalising groans as his tongue explores between your thighs, mapping places he’s only ever been in your mind.

The inferno rages, and when his lips massage your clit, sealing around it easily, his tongue playing with your swollen bud, you feel feverish with the euphoria.

“I- I’m-” You whimper, trying to tell him, an attempt to get him to understand.

He already does.

Groaning, one hand unfurling from around your thigh to reach his way up your body.

He tugs at your dress, pulling the strap off your shoulder and tugging it as far down as it will go. His tongue doesn’t slow as he pulls at your clothes, until one of your breasts is exposed to the cool air.

“Fuck.” You cry as he cups your hot skin, thumb finding your peaked nipple easily and dancing his thumb over it.

You feel the pleasure arc it’s way down your spine, joins with his tongue, threatens you with pleasure you’ve never experienced before.

You have one brief moment of sanity, where you’re acutely aware that your body is on a precipice, ready to fall at the next touch of Billy’s tongue.

All you can think in that one small moment is, Oh my fucking god.

And then you fall.

Frantic gasps as hot waves of pure pleasure crash over you. You feel the walls of your cunt spasm, clenching rhythmically around nothing. Every movement of your body is involuntary, each tremble and shake is something beyond your control.

Billy keeps the pleasure focused on you, helping you through your orgasm and into barely bearable territory.

He stops his torment when you whimper, pulling his messy mouth from your equally messy cunt, giving your breast another affectionate glide of his hand before pulling back.

You raise your head, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, watching him lick your arousal off of his lips.

You look at each other for a long moment. There’s that worry in the back of your mind that a clear line has been crossed so severely that it cannot be taken back.

If he has any inkling of your current train of thought, he doesn’t show it, leaning in instead, his fingers gripping your chin softly to keep you close to him.

“If you’d let me, I’d spend the rest of the night with my head buried between your thighs.”

Your breath hitches, you clench around nothing.

He smiles, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, observing your rumpled state, your dress pushed up to your hips, one strap falling off your shoulder, exposing your breast. You look like a proper mess where he still looks mostly put together.

You wanted to change that.

You sit up, sliding your body off your couch and standing on shaky legs. His eyes follow your every movement, and when you bunch your dress up, and tug it over your head, you try your hardest not to be shy about it.

He’s seen you touch yourself before, your mind supplies helpfully, it’s nothing to be naked in front of him.

It definitely helps, the reminder that he’s fucked his fist to the sight of you. You stand naked in front of him now, watching his every expression.

His eyes roam your bare skin, your body tingles at the feeling, his eyes as warm as a gentle touch on your skin. There’s just something about the moment, an understanding, a level of appreciation that’s so potent you can almost feel it.

He stands, takes a step in your direction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Billy says, his voice low and hoarse.

“Yeah?” You ask, raising a hand to cup the smooth underside of your breast.

When he takes a step toward you, you take one back. You can tell he’s intrigued by the idea of it, the slow chase.

“Of course you are. You make it hard for me to think when you walk into a room.”

He takes another step, and you mirror his movement.

“That sounds awful. How do you put up with me?” You tease, taking more steps back, slowly guiding him into your bedroom.

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I think about pressing you to the first flat surface and making you mine.”

A shiver of delight goes down your spine.

“Is that why you’re always so mean? Because you’re thinking about fucking me?”

“Obviously.” He answers, before raising his arms above his head and pulling his shirt off in one magnificent display of muscle.

You let out a little squeak at seeing him up close, you almost run toward him, instead of backing away from him. 

Even with his shirt off, he looks so magnificently dangerous that you can feel how bad your arousal is for him. His chest is broad and lined with a delicious amount of muscle, his biceps are near perfection, and your body tingles for a taste. A trail of hair from the spot below his navel into his pants makes you flushed with heat. You imagine briefly what is cock is like, remembering absentmindedly the time he assured you that he was bigger than the large dildo sitting in your nightstand.

What makes him more delectable is the scars that cover parts of his body. There are some on his left shoulder, what looks like a bullet hole in his lower abdomen. You gulp, acknowledging the fact that his flaws only make him more perfect, more mouthwatering.

You almost forget that you’re naked, only gasping in surprise when your back comes into contact with the chilled surface of your bedroom door.

He lets out a slow breath, palms pressed to either side of your body, not close enough to touch, but just enough to make you feel trapped, his warm breath on your skin.

“You want this?” He checks in, tilting his head to the side to observe you.

You nod, looking up at him, he nods along with you in a slight mocking manner.

“I want to hear you say it.” He murmurs, his fingertips tracing your shoulder gently, goosebumps on your skin as he works his way down your arm, taking your hand in his.

Your mouth parts in surprise when he presses your hand to the outline of his cock. You can feel the raw size of him, hot and stiff against the palm of your hand. You realise, in the back of your mind, that he really was large- bigger that you’d initially thought.

“Tell me you want me.” He pleads.

You gulp, hands exploring the stiff erection in his pants, your fingers squeezing around the sides to get an approximation of his girth. Your clit aches with just the idea of his size.

“I more than want you, Billy, I need you. Inside me, so deep that I never forget the feeling.”

He nods frantically, unable to hold himself back, he leans in to kiss you.

You throw your arms around his neck and enjoy the slide of your fingers against his hot skin.

He breaks the kiss for a second, lowering himself to grip your thighs. You wrap one careful leg around his hip, and upon his insistence you transfer your weight fully onto him, his hands supporting your naked backside.

You cling to him as he lifts you, desperate, body aching for more and more of his touch.

You’re not sure how he does it, and you have no time to marvel at his strength before he grips your jaw, bringing your mouth back to his.

You sigh, cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching at his beard, feeling the hairs tickle your palms. You melt into his body, feeling him groan as his mouth moves over yours.

He walks you into your room, and you have no care for your surroundings, your hands too busy exploring his back and shoulders and anywhere else you can get your hands on.

He bends, placing you gently onto your bed, his hands rising to cup your cheeks, and then making their way over every inch of your shoulders.

“God, you’re so soft.” He rumbles against your mouth. You gasp when his palms cup both your breasts in his large hands.

“I could just touch you all damn day.”

He’s so talkative now, and you find yourself loving each word that leaves his lips.

“Touch me all day, lick me all night- when am I getting fucked?” You tease, hearing him laugh into your mouth.

“When you ask for it.” He says decisively, pressing you onto your back.

It’s like he can’t leave your mouth, pulling back for a moment, only to draw back to your lips in a heated  rush. It makes you laugh, your body readily receptive to him.

He kisses your neck and jaw, electric tingles all over your skin, desperate shivers as he cups your breasts, pushing them together and kissing over them. 

You gasp, writhing below him, his mouth on your skin feels amazing, he works his way down and you gasp, your thighs spreading easily when he moves to settle himself between them.

He doesn’t say another word, his tongue reuniting with your clit, swirling careful circles around your heated bundle of nerves. You gasp, arching your back, fingers drifting into your hair.

“Billy!” You gasp, and the vigour of his tongue increases until he’s just flat out making out with your cunt.

Your head swims, pleasure in every essence of your cell and you feel a lone finger drift in careful circles at your entrance.

“Fuck!” You cry, feeling his finger hovering right at your entrance for a long moment. He’s mean, his fingers tormenting you as his tongue licks over your clit at a steady pace.

“Please,” You sob, tilting your hips up, trying to chase the pleasure he’s not yet ready to give.

You try to breathe through it, squirming beneath his body, his hand grips your hip, thumb moving in firm circles to keep you calm.

You shudder in bliss when his finger sinks halfway into you.

It’s not enough, and too much all at the same time. His breath on your mound, his tongue laving lazily at your clit, he curls his lone finger partially upwards, scattering pleasure before withdrawing his finger.

“No,” You cry, “Please please please please fuck me Billy,” Your breath hitches, “I need it so bad.”

You feel him hum, before his finger re-renters you.

“Poor sweet girl.” You think you hear him mumble from his spot between your thighs, and then he begins rocking his finger in you so gently, that it’s almost more of a micromovement than anything. Yet somehow still, he manages to give you pleasure.

“Please please please,” You keep whispering, afraid that he’s going to stop giving you what you need, what you crave for and dream about. He’s every fantasy come to life, tongue rolling over your clit wetly, an easy rhythm of pleasure that he draws out from you leaving no thoughts in its wake.

A broken sound escapes you, desperate, aching, and you think he almost feels apologetic with the way he lines up a second finger against your entrance.

It’s debauchery, the way his fingers feel, broader and longer than yours could ever, makes you feel so insanely full when he carefully pushes two digits all the way into you.

He fills the deepest parts of you, erases any sense of emptiness, makes you forget that you’d ever craved fullness in the first place.

And then his fingers start to move.

Your breath escapes you in a hot rush, mouth dropping open as he starts off slow, painfully slow, rocking his fingers into you, curling them up, making sure you feel every little movement.

His tongue is still playing with your clit, you feel like crying, you’ve never felt this way before.

You say his name, one hand moving from his hair, over to where he grips your hip. You want to hold his hand, and he obliges easily, fingers linking with yours, make you feel so much warmer and safer with him than ever before.

I’ve got you, he seems to say with his actions, go ahead and fall for me.

And of course you do.

Cunt spasming around his fingers, desperate cries leaving your mouth as he winds you up and helps you through your second release.

You whimper, little gasps leaving the back of your throat as your body shudders with the oncoming pleasure. He keeps pumping his fingers into you, and you can almost feel the smile he has on his face, pressed to your cunt. You squeeze his other hand in yours tightly, his thumb smoothing over your skin even then.

When he detaches from your heated centre, you sit up quickly.

You lean into him, pressing your mouth to his frantically, reaching for the zipper of his pants. He tries to help you, one hand trying to work at the button while the other grips the back of your head, but you only get in each other’s way.

You laugh into his mouth as you both fumble, but silently thankful when finally you get his pants undone.

He has to pull away with a grin on his face, climbing off the bed so that he can shove the material of his pants and his boxers off in one go.

You go brainless when you see his cock. Erect and near throbbing, a little bit curved, you feel your mouth water as you stare at the monster between his legs.

He was very right to tell you that he was bigger than your dildo, you swallow nervously, trying to figure out exactly how that was going to fit inside of you. 

Your eyes manage to glance at this thigh, you see a deep gouge on the side of his right thigh, you tilt your head in worry wondering what could have caused a scar like that, one that runs from his hip to his knee.

It must have hurt terribly, and your heart aches for whatever malady he’s been through in his past.

You seek to give him pleasure now, crawling on all fours to the edge of your bed, looking up at him for a moment, before dropping your head to suckle at the tip of his cock.

Billy hisses.

The salty taste of his precum fills your mouth. You can’t help humming at the taste of him. Slowly, you begin to bob your head, taking as much as comfortably possible.

His fingers cup the back of your head, slightly guiding your movements with no real force behind it.

“Good girl,” He grunts, guiding your movements, you hear him shudder out a violent breath, “So good for me.”

It makes you even more aroused, to know that you’re capable of returning the pleasure he gives.

Something shifts in the next moment, and he’s pulling his cock from your mouth and encouraging you into a kneeling position on your bed.

Your eyes slip shut as his mouth meets yours, something frantic inside of him now, and you’re eager and helpless to give him what he wants.

.

Billy can’t fight the predator anymore. The sensation of you sucking eagerly on his cock is too much and his control has slipped beyond his scope of reach.

Your hair is askew as he guides you onto your soft pillows, silk, to protect your gorgeous hair from damage. He pauses to look at you, your obedient eyes, willing to comply with anything he asks and it fills him with an uncontrollable power. The scent of your arousal is thick in the room, the aftertaste of your mouth and your cunt mixing on his tongue until he couldn’t extract himself from you even if he tried.

He hums, pressing his cock against your inner thigh, the heat and softness of your skin filling him with too much want. He’s fighting the predator, that pushes him to claim what was already his, what would be freely given to him if he asks.

.

His nose brushes your cheek gently.

“Are you sure you want this?” Billy asks softly, and you almost want to groan in frustration.

“Yes, please.” You say on a desperate breath, and you feel him kiss your cheek in response.

He takes your left hand in his, kissing at the tips of your fingers and you wonder if after tonight you’d be able to feel the ghost of his lips on your skin.

Fingers intertwined, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, he uses his other hand to align his cock with your entrance.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He asks after a second, and you nod frantically, squeezing his hand and daring him to even think about stopping.

“So good for me.” He whispers against your cheek and then his cock is pressed intimately against your entrance.

He stretches you, and opens you up even further until he’s fit snugly inside of you, filling you so much that you’re not sure how you can breathe with the intrusion.

His nose brushes yours affectionately.

“How do you feel?” He asks, as if you’re capable of assembling any semblance of thought.

Your lips part, you suck in a deep breath, the very first, with his cock pressed deep inside of you.

He waits patiently for the answer.

“Good,” You breathe, “So good, Billy oh my god.” You express.

He gives a sweet little smile that manages to get you even more aroused.

“I’m glad to hear it. Ready for the rest?”

The-?

“What?” You ask obtusely.

“My cock, sweetheart, would you like the rest of it?”

You try to raise your head for some type of explanation but you don’t get very far with his body pinned against yours. His eyebrows draw together at your shocked expression.

“There’s more of you?” You whisper in astonishment.

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and suddenly he’s laughing, burying his face in your neck and chuckling away as if his cock isn’t the largest thing you’ve ever tried to take. 

His laughter is sweet though, soft and lyrical and you can’t help clenching on his cock, and hearing his laughter turn into a groan, squeezing your linked fingers.

“Yes,” He gasps, lost in the tight grip of your cunt, “Yes, there’s more of me.”

Your eyes are wide, a little afraid, anchoring yourself to him in hopes that he helps you through your fear.

“Take a big breath for me sweetheart.” he guides, with a steady, calm voice, nodding his head as you accept his guidance.

“And out.” 

You do as he says, and shudder with pleasure as your body relaxes fully, you feel him slide deeper, eyelids fluttering as you discover more and more of him.

Finally, when his hips are pressed squarely to yours, and his cock fills you beyond what you thought you were capable of, does he finally say your name on a heated gasp.

You cup his cheek, thumb grazing over his rough stubble, he closes his eyes and presses his cheek to your palm and withdraws a little.

The first rock of his hips takes your breath away on a frantic sound. You hear him grunt in response, grinding his hips against yours, not moving too much but easily working into you.

“Billy.” You sob, legs tightening around his hips, one hand still linked with his.

He leans down, seals his mouth over yours, rocks into you in slow, lilting movements. You hum against his mouth, feels his body all around you, deep inside of you, holding you hostage and protecting you from everything except himself.

“You take me so well.” He grunts, his hot breath on your lips.

His mouth trails over your cheek, he kisses sweetly at your neck and shoulders.

His pace increases, his delectable body over yours, giving you pleasure that you barely understand.

His hand releases yours for a moment, only to grip both your wrists and pin them above your head, held firm in one large hand.

His grip on your wrist hurts a little, only adds to the pleasure of him fucking you.

He can’t stop kissing you, delving his tongue past your lips and exploring your mouth while he claims your body, hips rocking faster and faster into you the more time goes by.

He reaches a depth inside of you that you’ve never felt before, fills you with himself until you’re sure you’re the most whole you’ve ever been.

His cock pumps into you, your cunt is pulsing, sending large waves of immeasurable pleasure up your spine to fill your head. You feel your thighs tremble as the euphoria makes it all the way to your toes.

He keeps that pace, probably noticing the mindless state of you, your inability to form a single word, or produce a sound that isn't a breathless moan. You feel his influence on you in the farthest reaches of your mind, giving you more pleasure than your body can handle.

Finally, the pleasure sweetened even further, and Billy, in tune with your body, speeds the rhythm of his thrusts to match your needs. You gasp, barely able to find the thoughts, your body overflowing with absolute ecstasy and you’re almost afraid of what falling over the edge with him will feel like.

“Good,” He growls lowly into your ear, a sound you’ve never heard before, untamed, unhinged, and he’s using it to give you praise.

“So good for me.” 

Your orgasm is involuntary. It’s not yours, only a response written by your body to answer his call. The sheer violence of your bliss takes your breath away, you feel your cunt clench hard around his cock, trapping him securely in place as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through you. 

Vaguely, you’re aware of him groaning, but you don’t have the headspace to focus at the very moment. Your arms pinned above your head, his lips kissing at your face and neck, bare nipples grazing his chest and his cock stretching you wide.

Your cunt spasms, your body trembles, and trembles even more when he resumes his fucking, not even waiting for your first orgasm to fully subside before he’s trying to throw you right into the throes of another.

He’s harsher now, and you love it, your body revelling in the way he seems to lose control. He raises his head, you look deeply into his dark eyes. You can’t see much thought behind his eyes either, and you become acutely aware that you might be lost inside each other.

It only makes you that more desperate for him.

.

There’s no such thing as control anymore.

Billy’s lost any semblance of it, any memory of what it was like to be sane. 

He has lost his old self, and he has found you.

All he wants now is to keep you like this, open and vulnerable on his cock for the foreseeable future. Your skin hot with bliss, little sweet cries filling his head.

He leans down, runs his tongue over the top of your breast, hears you gasp, loves the dirty way you love these things, appreciates the salty taste of your skin.

The predator in his head is synced up with him, both aspects of himself agreeing that this is where he belongs, balls deep in his mate, feeling her take everything he has to give.

He feels a completeness, that he can give you pleasure so easily, like his body was made just for you, to please you in every way possible.

He groans again, his voice beyond his control, hoping the low grovel of it doesn’t scare you, but even that makes your cunt squeeze him in satisfaction.

Yours. 

He was yours.

He would only ever be yours.

He adjusts the angle of his hips, and he watches your lips tremble and your eyes water when his cock kisses a very sensitive spot inside of you.

.

You blubber mindlessly, sharp breaths and trembling thighs and you open up to Billy and you take everything he has to give.

You cum with a sharp cry. Eyes squeezed shut, body trembling as you try to process the bliss.

His hot breath on your skin, hips speeding up and suddenly a low grunt escapes him.

You feel his cock pulsing against your hypersensitive walls, you feel his cum, filling up the deepest spots of you and you can’t help the rightness of it.

Eventually, he releases your wrists, still deep inside of you, he braces his weight on his arms so that he doesn’t crush you.

After a moment, his arms wrap around you, adjusting you slowly so that your body rests on his, head on his chest, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of you.

.

He tries to make you comfortable, the biological urge for him to stay inside of you for as long as possible is something he’s never experienced before and he doesn’t know exactly how to control it. 

He sighs, his orgasm still going through him, still filling you up though he doubts you can feel such subtle movements.

You burrow into him, and he hums in amusement, arms wrapping around your form, his heart pounding in his chest at how close you are.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, checking in, fingers absentmindedly reaching for the edges of your hair.

“Wrist.” You say groggily, raising your left hand to his face.

“Fuck.” He voices, his eyes landing on the subtle bruises marking your wrist, he can make out the print of his fingers where he’d curled them to grip you tightly.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks, pain spearing his chest at the very idea that he’d hurt you. He holds your forearm gently, examining the faint bruising.

“Loved it.” You reply simply, he can hear the sleepy inflections in your voice.

He’d hurt you… and you’d loved it?

He makes a mental note to get some ice for your wrist, and to check it in the morning to make sure it’s doing better.

Now, he places a gentle kiss to the little bruise, feeling the abnormal heat of it on his lips.

“I’m so sorry.” He says to you.

You hum.

“Loved it.” You repeat.

.

"How is that? Is that better?" Billy asks, a little towel wrapped around a bag ice cubes pressed to your wrist.

You hum lazily, peeking an eye open to look up at him. You’re on your side, facing him, your left hand between you, bent to be in a more comfortable position. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” You mumble, feeling sleep wrap itself carefully around your sated body. Your cunt is sore, quivering still from his use. 

“Just a little uncomfy.” You try to explain.

He looks extremely concerned for a brief moment.

“I’m really sorry,” He tries to apologise for the fifth time.

You smile, shuffling your body closer to his, watching him focus on trying to keep his makeshift ice pack on your wrist. You kick a leg over his hip, not liking that he’d taken the time to put his boxers back on after he’d slipped from you earlier to grab the ice.

“Billy,” You murmur somberly, “I trust you, and if I really didn’t like it, I would have said something.”

“But I hurt you. Our first time together and I hurt you.” He says, his dark eyes so open and sad, hints of a frown turning down the corners of his lips.

You smile, your other hand rubbing his bicep and shoulder affectionately.

“I loved every second of it.” You whisper, unable to keep your mind conscious for a second more. You blink slowly, leaning into his body even more, heaving in a great big sigh.

“Please don’t leave.” You ask, as you tumble into unconsciousness.

.

He leans in, kissing the top of your head, and then your cold wrist, finally understanding that in your eyes, you don’t blame him.

His sweet girl, happy and asleep in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers, curling around you, the panther purring inside of him as he falls asleep beside you.

.

His eyes flutter open when his phone vibrates on your bedside table. He’d pulled it out of his pants pocket and dropped it there on his way to get you ice. 

You’ve crawled your way mostly onto his body, your head resting securely on his shoulder, he somehow still manages to be holding the melted ice pack on your wrist that rests on his chest, though he’s not sure if it even makes much of a difference right now. 

He’s groggy, not sure if he’s ever been that deeply asleep before, absolutely comfortable, the very right temperature, the scent of strawberries wrapped around him.

He drops the towel- wrapped ice pack onto the floor beside the bed, rubbing his eyes as his phone continues to vibrate. 

He reaches for it, pauses for a moment when his movement jostles you. He holds you tight as his fingers wrap around his phone.

He swallows, squints, slides to answer, keeping his voice soft so that he doesn’t wake you.

“Russo.” He answers automatically.

“Bill.” Frank says, and it’s all Billy needs to understand that something is very wrong.

“What is it?” Billy asks, “What happened?”

“My boy’s missing.” Frank responds.

.

You shiver with the cold, tugging your blanket up and over your shoulder and letting out a sigh.

In your sleepy state, the memory of last night comes back to you.

You smile, extending a hand out to reach for the warm body that had been nearby when you’d fallen asleep last night.

“Billy?” You grumble out, when your hand meets nothing but soft pillows.

No answer.

God, you think, if he left this time I am never going to speak to him again.

You peek an eye open, sighing when there is no deliciously gorgeous man lying mostly naked beside you. 

A groan slips past your lips, you extend your body out, stretching this way and that and huffing when you accidentally kick one of your pillows off of your bed.

You weren’t going to let your hope plummet just yet, maybe he was just in the bathroom, or the kitchen, maybe he was whipping you up a cup of coffee right now.

You say his name louder this time.

After a moment of no response, you climb out of bed, searching for him, finding your apartment empty of him.

You stand in your living room, trying to reason with yourself, trying to find answers for questions that you could barely formulate.

Was this going to be like the movies? When you’d just lost hope, he would pop in with a breakfast bagel and a latte and apologise for leaving you?

You swallow, going back to find your phone and dialling his number.

Voicemail.

Your throat tightens.

Surely he hadn’t made you sweet promises last night only to break them?

When your second attempt at calling him has the same outcome, your mind spins to a final conclusion.

He’d left you.

Again.

.

.

.

#werepanther!billy russo #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo smut #billy russo fic #the punisher #monster!billy russo #monster!billyrusso #monster!billy

[waxingrunes]

I’m going to probe into your brain about something because I really enjoy your answers to things and because you seem willing to answer these type of questions I’m taking my shot! Do you think Remus enjoys being a werewolf? Do you think Sirius has ever been scared of him because of it? Do padfoot and moony fight? Slightly more not safe for work but what do you think things are like in bed between then before and after the full moon? You can skip that if you want but I see so many takes I’m curious about yours

I know that it takes a lot of steam to think about these answers so please take your time and feel free to just completely ignore if you don’t have the energy. Thank you for being the way you are and I can’t wait for your next art!!

The way you spelt out the acronym made me laugh. I see you trying to dip under the tumblr patrol. This will end up being a lengthy answer so to avoid taking up an obnoxious space on everyone’s feeds, read on if you’re interested:

To answer your questions in order, I don’t think Remus likes being a werewolf at all. His condition can be an isolating one for many reasons and has very little, if any, benefit. I think Remus has grown up learning to broadly keep himself to himself, keep his head down, and to not cause trouble so as to dissuade any extra attention being drawn to him. Remus is quite a shy, unassuming person by default, and due to the backlash of fear, abuse, and general distaste towards his lycanthropy, he’s built a defence mechanism to mask that shyness which can sometimes come across as standoffish. I think he’s scared of his abilities when the full moon draws in and used to try and compensate for that by making sure he pushed people away, which only leant to further isolation.

I saw this quote somewhere recently which I believe rings true with regard to Remus (and Sirius, but that’s another conversation) ‘to love and to be loved is to rest’. When Remus established himself as a Marauder and grew within the confines of those friendships, it taught him a lot about what it meant to be vulnerable. It taught him trust, and that there are people out there, even in the places he’d least expect it, that will see him for who he is and not what he turns into at the height of every moon.

So no, whilst I don’t think Remus would check the 10 box on a of ‘How Cool Is It To Be A Werewolf’ scale, I think as he made his way through adolescence into a grown man, he’s accepted himself with the aid of human connection; something he denied himself in its authenticity before. He’s learnt that he doesn’t need to do a balancing act of people pleasing and pushing them away in order to protect himself and others.

Is Sirius afraid of Moony? No. I think there’s a natural instinctual element of fear of the unknown in all of us, so when it was confirmed, there was undoubtedly a few ‘what-if’ moments going through his mind. But scared in the sense where he thought Remus would hurt him, no. Whenever Sirius thinks of the full moon, his predominant thoughts are of Remus’ health and the potential fallout after one. He doesn’t picture the creature, he thinks about what that creature is going to do to Remus. His lead emotions are concern and protection, coupled with a wild instinct to make it all go away as quickly as possible and if he can’t do that, then he’s going to make it as easy as possible.

As I say, I don’t think Sirius is scared but I do think he’s logical and he’s not going to show any outward fear when Remus or anyone else is around. Any doubts he’s ever experienced will be privately locked away and mulled over, because he knows how Remus views himself and would rather take the force of the full moon himself than ever add to those insecurities. But he isn’t stupid, and is human at the end of the day. He knows what Remus is capable of when he’s Moony and no matter how gentle a person Remus is, no matter how soft he is at the core, there will always be a very small private part of him that will be on extra alert during each transformation.

Padfoot and Moony always scrap. It’s my impression that Remus would’ve been frenzied at the first couple of meetings and, much like Remus, his wolf’s initial reaction to possible threat would be to either run or challenge. Constantly caught between fight or flight and fight— they did. Those first two or three tussles would’ve been genuine ones whilst the wolf and dog got used to each other. Sirius would be trying to disarm the fight mainly, but give the wolf as good as he got. Despite the size differences, Sirius is scrappy, fast and tactile; his dog is big, but not as big as Moony who is more brute strength over cunning attack. I could actually see Moony being a bit dopey when he’s relaxed.

Going forward from that, any fight between them would be pure puppy play, play fighting that sometimes looked a little too real to an innocent onlooker but was always just stupid scrapping for idle dominance.

I have a hc that Sirius had teased and teased Remus so much one time (because he knew he could, Remus is a soft melt and know it means no harm) about how he won the last ‘three fights Moony, three.’ Pokes him. ‘I know there’s not much muscle to match your size yet but aren’t you supposed to be stronger than me? Am I dealing with a wolf or a cub’. Sirius would make him roll his eyes so hard he nearly lost them, or blush, because he’d grab his thigh under the table and squeeze. Which was meant to be nothing more than a reassuring, I’m just playing Moons, but translated as something much more in Remus’ head.

The teasing continued until Sirius went to try and tackle Remus, not Moony, one night in the common room and because he’d made the mistake of doing it in the couple days before the moon, Remus was less inclined to be so soft and grew bored of the jibe. With a Sirius latched onto his back and a pale, determined forearm around his neck, Remus used his size to his advantage and flung him up and over, flipping him forward with a loud THWOP onto one of the couches. The common room would’ve been half shouts of support for Remus and cheers, etc, whilst Remus leant down close enough only Sirius would hear, and, ‘cub’s getting tired of playtime’. Remus returned the squeeze to his thigh, hard enough to elicit a squeak from an exacerbated Sirius and leave.

James, king of cool, ‘I think that was his equivalent to telling you to go fetch mate’.

A cushion would’ve landed on James’ head shortly thereafter.

As for the acronym :) I think Remus’ mood wouldn’t be fixed to one setting either side of the moon. The moon’s influence would have his senses heightened than normal people at all times, but the closer the full drew in, all of those would be amped up to something that was sometimes unbearable. Other times, it was manageable.

Sometimes he might have experienced a wave of depression and not know how to counteract it, sometimes he might have been more tearful, other times he might’ve been angrier. Overall, I think there’s always a general lack of patience with himself and others in the couple of days leading up. This doesn’t mean he turned into a rude arsehole, but someone who was just a little more worn than usual; I imagine a lot of leg jogging and restlessness, an appetite fit for three grown men, grogginess, inability to sleep or a tendency to oversleep.

Getting to the acronym— I got carried away, apologies. I think in general, there would be a period where it’d feel similar to a rush of hormones and Remus would want to annihilate Sirius. This elicits a behaviour that he’s not always been proud of and sometimes punishes himself for if it’s an aggressive moon, but Sirius is no feather, he is no daisy that feels like he’s been ravaged by a Big Bad Wolf and always reassures him that it’s absolutely fine. More than fine. I believe it took Sirius some time to admit that he actually really fucking loves that side of Remus and will allow himself and Remus, to cave to the animalistic vein that rears its head. There’s no chance of Sirius topping in those days and every chance he’s going to be limping.

Following the moon, I don’t think there would be much libido present on Remus’ side on the most part as his body’s energy is honed in on healing itself back to full strength, and those sorts of things are the last thing on his mind for the following 24-72 hours. Especially if the moon was difficult. However, if there is intimacy in this period it’ll be slow and handsy; lots of hand and mouth action, lots of kissing and touching but nothing too intruding. If penetration is wanted and they are particularly in the mood then Sirius is most likely to top here so he can let Remus relax for a bit while quelling the sexual urge. If Remus tops, it’ll be slow and Sirius would take the lead.

Some chocolate for you for making it to the end.

#ask #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #remus #sirius

[thedemoninme141]

Love Me Leave Me.

This is not my writing id, I don't even write. This story was 3/4th written by my late best friend Celine, this is her id, she wrote all the stories here. She took her own life on August 20th, Her life was complicated and I do not feel comfortable sharing it with you guys, What I can share is what she wanted me to share, Her last wish in her last letter was to finish all her unfinished stories and give you guys all the love, I tried my best giving it the ending she instructed me to do, I am not a professional writer but I tried my best to finish her starting. I hope I did justice to her works.  I had a few errors autosaving this work on tumblr. I don't know much about tumblr so the better version of this story is in her AO3 account , I would recommend reading it there. Here is the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/50014339 Celine's Works are here.

2 months, It has been 2 months since you came out as a lesbian and Wednesday, who tolerated you all year already hates you for it. You never thought someone's sexuality would affect Wednesday so badly that she had unleashed a torrent of hatred you never thought possible from someone who had tolerated your presence all year.

As the truth spilt from your lips to your so-called "trusted" group of friends, the fallout had been swift and merciless. Enid, who had been your last tether to friendship, now wore a pained look in her eyes, brimming with pity and sorrow.

Your friends, once close allies, had turned their backs on you. The very bullies you thought you had escaped, the ones Wednesday had once saved you from, now saw an opportunity. They hurled cruel words at you, shoved you into the girls' restroom, and locked you in there, leaving you to fend for yourself. The sight of creepy-crawly creatures, the same ones that had filled you with dread, now invaded your room. Someone had left behind intentional proof as footprints of a disembodied hand and a pair of boots.  All these horrors could have been reported to Principal Weems, but you refrained. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, and the pain that once cut deep had numbed over time because you found another pain that cut even deeper. You found a solution, to cope with this pain, you found a greater one. A blade was all you needed, you had a collection of them already in these 2 months. Each cut, each red line, became a lifeline to relief from the relentless suffering that now consumed your existence. No one knew, not even "Detective all knowing" Wednesday, of course, you hid them in the bathroom.

The relentless bullying persisted day after day. Katherine and her siren friends, fueled by cruelty, would taunt you mercilessly in the school hallways, their taunts occasionally escalating to physical violence, leaving you sprawled on the unforgiving ground. Strange as it may sound, those physical bruises didn't hurt. What did hurt was when you entered the classroom an unknown disembodied hand dropped a bucket of real human blood on you. The classroom erupted in a chorus of cruel laughter, and even Wednesday had a smug smile on her face. She never smiled, did she? unless she was truly at peace. So yeah, you getting hurt gave her joy. The cuts were deeper that day but you were careful not to cut any vein, You had a collection of jackets now, without them you couldn't go to the classes now. You would love to cut yourself to shreds in front of Wednesday if it gave her joy, cause you loved her, she was the reason you were finally brave enough to come out.

Wednesday despised you, you made her do something she would never do, you made her hurt you. She hated how you were braver than herself to admit your feelings. Falling for someone was never part of her plan, yet you had made it happen. She resented you deeply for that, a resentment that drove her to darker actions. You hated spiders, you used to tell her how creepy they looked. You hated blood, it sent chills down your spine. You hated cuts, your pain tolerance was lower than 0. You hated bees, So she set about crafting a sinister contraption in your bathroom bathtub, a jar brimming with bees, poised to unleash their torment upon you the moment you unwittingly opened it. Her twisted plan was a desperate bid to make you feel the same way she did. That's when her eyes went to a small box, and as always curiosity filled her mind, She took the box carefully and opened it, only to find razor blades, a lot of them, and a small knife. Some of the blades had stains of dry blood on them, the blood on the knife looked recent. Always wearing jackets... Wednesday ran, she ran and ran, she had to find you, wherever you were. I love coffee, just not as bitter as you. Your voice ranged through her head. I really wish I could see you smile Your smile ran through her head. I love planting flowers, the blooming flowers make me happy. Now you wouldn't bloom yourself anymore. No no no, Wednesday didn't mean it, she couldn't know, she never thought you would turn to this way to cope with this pain, she had to find you, She had to find you, no matter where you were. She sprinted through the courtyard, desperately searching for any sign of you. Wednesday spotted Enid engaged in conversation with Ajax. She hurried over to the pair, her desperation evident in her voice.  "Enid, have you seen Y/n anywhere?" Enid's anger flared at the mere mention of your name on her lips. "Why? So that you can hurt her more?" Enid had held her grudge against Wednesday ever since the bullying had begun. "No, I..." Before Wednesday could explain herself, her gaze shifted, catching sight of you entering the school gates, a shopping bag in your hand. Without thinking, she sprinted towards you, her heart pounding. But you backed away as soon as you noticed her approach, and Wednesday couldn't help but notice the profound sadness etched in your eyes – the same eyes she had avoided for the past two painful months. "I need to speak with you," Wednesday implored, her voice trembling with sincerity. "No," you replied firmly, attempting to walk away and put distance between you two. "Please, this is important," Wednesday persisted, her desperation driving her to reach out and grab your arm in a plea for your attention. You walked as fast as you could to your dorm, You can't feel like this anymore, you have to get to your room and cope. Wednesday followed you, determined to talk to you, she can't let you cut any more.  "Y/n please!" She begged. You didn't even look back, She ran in front of you making you finally stop. "What do you want from me?" You asked, tears in your eyes, your voice broken with sorrow. The bag held close to your chest made Wednesday doubt. She looked at the empty hallway to make sure that it was only you and her and then snatched the bag away from you and emptied the contents on the floor, painkillers, sleeping pills and a new sharp knife. All the things that she liked, yet she felt so much dread in her heart. "I am sorry." She whispered, her voice shaking, You hurriedly picked all of them up before anyone could show up. "Show me." She said as you stood up. "Show me what I've done." She said as she tried to grab your hand, "Please don't." You said. "SHOW ME WHAT I'VE DONE." She said gritting her teeth in anger, but not on you, never on you, it was on her own self. She slowly grabbed your hand and took it up to herself, She removed the jacket sleeves slowly to see your arm filled with dozens of cuts, some deeper than they should've been. "Please." You cried now. She let go of your hands as she was frozen in her spot and you ran into your room.

Tears weren't stopping. Maybe another Tears weren't stopping. Maybe another Tears weren't stopping. Maybe another Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. The tears finally stopped.

Outside your door, Wednesday's voice trembled, the weight of the past 12 hours pressing down upon her. She cleared her throat softly before speaking. "Y/n," she said, the sound echoing through the stillness of the corridor. "I know you're in there." A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she continued, her words tinged with vulnerability.  "I am sorry, for everything." Admitting her own emotions had never been her strong suit, but she realized that acknowledging her mistakes was the first step toward repairing the damage she'd done.  "I understand that some things can't be fixed, but maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to mend what's broken and hold it together." Wednesday's voice wavered as she opened up further, her admission of feelings a rare glimpse into her inner world.  "Y/n, you made me feel things – things I've spent my entire life running from, things I've been terrified of. I never wanted to become like my parents, but now it seems like embracing those emotions might be worth it, especially if it means being with you. I was too blind to see it, too wrapped up in my hatred for love, but I know you feel the same for me. Please, just let me in... Please..." Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her, but she refused to give in to her own weakness. Wednesday's heart ached as she contemplated walking away, but then, a sudden, painful sting in her chest stopped her in her tracks. "Y/n, at least answer me, and I won't bother you anymore," she implored softly. "Y/N," she continued, desperation lacing her words, "Tell me to go away, and I will leave, nevermore, if you ask." But the only response was silence, hanging in the air like an unbreakable barrier. With trembling hands, Wednesday retrieved her lockpick, a skill she had mastered long ago. However, this time was different, her hands shook as she struggled to unlock your door. After a few tense moments, she finally succeeded. What she discovered inside, though, was more than she had braced herself for. There you lay, eyes closed, seemingly at peace on the bed, although only peace was in your expression. The room was stained red, with your blood marking the bed, the floor, and the glinting knife nearby. Even your hands bore the evidence of your anguish, but what struck Wednesday the most was your serene smile. Approaching cautiously to your lying figure, She didn't need to check for a pulse to recognize a lifeless body, but she did it anyway. She wanted to hope and she needed you. But she found none. "I am sorry," she whispered, her voice broken with regret. Her gaze shifted to the heavy sleeping pills on the floor, all still intact. It became clear that you hadn't chosen this method. You chose the painful one, leaving the easy one for her, Good. Enid and the others looked for you and Wednesday, when they found you two, you two were finally each other's, holding each other, your arm on Wednesday's waist, her arm on yours, Wednesday laying on your chest, peacefully, cause she finally found her final home.

Alternate Less Sad Ending Author's note: For Celine, the most heart-warming and accepting person I knew, I would try to write and alternative good ending to this story if you guys want. For her recent readers, Did I do it right to her style? 

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday #angst #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams angst #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday angst

[ekingston]

Apart from show canon, at which point did u think it was too late for lena's immediate forgiveness to kara's identity reveal

oh boy. anon, here is where i come clean about my shoddy recollection of canon’s chronology. i’ve done so many fragmented rewatches and skipping back and forth—there’s a reason i rarely dabble with canon-adjacent stuff! and that even when i do, i create worlds where Lena figures it out herself! 

second road bump to answering this question is that i have a LOT of feelings about how things played out on the show, and most of them are incongruent with the tone of sgcw. i understand their narrative reasons for keeping the secret from Lena for so long! but the execution is so, so terrible! ignoring large swathes of canon and replacing them with my own is the only way i’m able to enjoy at least the last tiny handful of seasons!

here is where i spend an hour procrastinating from my WIPs, while not successfully answering your question at all:

to be perfectly clear: i adore most parts of canon Kara. and i think i may be hard on her in ways i wouldn't be if i didn’t relate to her so much. i think her backstory is extremely compelling and i admire her ability to hold on to her kindness and hope and joy even after losing everything that was important to her, even when she’s tired and lonely and mad. 

BUT. a healthy Lena—one who we were made to believe was finally freeing herself from Lex and Lillian, rising above the coping mechanisms she’d developed as an unwanted and emotionally neglected child? i don’t think that Lena would (should?) have forgiven canon Kara at all.

after the rift, canon Kara flitted between telling Lena she’d lied to her ‘to protect you’ to ‘one person who sees me only as Kara’ to ‘your last name’ to ‘didn’t want to lose you’ until she literally told Lena she was on her own, and she’d treat her like any other villain until Lena repented, even rejecting her apology at first, as if Kara’s own decisions had played no part in Lena’s downward spiral at all.

the Kara Lena would have forgiven is the much more cohesive and coherent Kara brought to us by our talented fix-it writers: a Kara who is willing to let herself be vulnerable and to second-guess her motivations, one who is able to put together a proper apology and actually listen to Lena's own. 

but, okay, lets table all of that. this is me trying really, really hard to entertain canon:

Kara and Lena’s friendship became painfully lopsided by season 3. i think that was, if i recall correctly, when the super-friends decided to trust Lena enough to regularly ask her for assistance—but not enough to let her be part of their in-group; it’s where they left Lena in the dark about the fact that her best friend had come close to plunging to her death right in front of Lena's eyes, and was actively still fighting for her life; where they tricked Lena into having an extremely personal conversation with J’onn, while he was wearing Kara’s features, only to make belly-laughing fun of her about it later. 

and even then, honestly, it might already have been too late. what about the aftermath of Jack’s death? was that season 2? Jack was Lena’s ex-everything, someone who genuinely loved her, who saw her through the fallout of Lex’s arrest. he was one of her last remaining friends, and Lena pressed the button to let him die in order to save Supergirl’s life. how would Lena knowing that Kara went through that with her, knowing Lena had chosen to save the life of her favorite person in addition to National City’s hero, have changed the way she felt about that horrible situation? that’s where that extremely wonderful heart-to-heart on the L-Corp couch happened, right? Kara swore she’d always be Lena’s friend—while keeping silent about the fact that she was there when Jack drew his last breath, that she had witnessed their final moments.

so—i really can’t tell you anon, i’m so sorry. the 100th episode already fabricated reasons why Kara couldn’t possibly come clean to Lena back when she made the conscious decision to be her friend (and not in a ‘keep your enemies close’ kind of way!), and i’m beginning to think that was the only moment Kara could have told Lena that would have kept her conscience completely clear. Kara should have made it part of her decision—either she was going to be Lena’s friend and give her the same trust Lena was giving her, or she would keep things professional, and keep her identity a secret from her. 

Kara tried to do both, and if i really think about it, i don’t believe that was ever fair.

#i could have kept going anon #drifting further & further away from your original question all the while #i think it would have helped it supergirlcw would have figured out at one point what kind of show they wanted to be #and possibly maybe also perhaps if they'd managed to make up their mind about who these characters were and what they wanted? idk #is it lighthearted and fun? then lena knew all along and kara half-suspects but it's still hard to come out and actually say it #is it dramatic? maybe lena still knows but she's convinced kara not telling her means she's just another luthor AND MAYBE SHE IS #is lena just another evil luthor? so kara was right keeping her secret from her! bring on the (actual proper) villain arc! #etc etc ad nauseam & ad infinitum #thank you for letting me get this out i guess anon lmao #perhaps it is A Day #ask me things! #anonymous

[roseborough-if]

[a slife of life / romance story set in the countryside of emerald acres]  🤍

DEMO (TBA) / PINTEREST / KO-FI

Note from the author: Hi and welcome! I'm Vilna (she/any). This is my first interactive fiction project that is still very early in developement. I was inspired by various medias, primarily Stardew Valley and Harvest Moon, to develope my own little game in novel format written in twine. I hope you enjoy your stay! 

Tales from Roseborough and this blog is only suitable for 18+ audience for eventual optional sexual content. Ask box is open for any kind questions (nsfw included).

THE STORY:

You are a farmer who has very recently become one after your distant grandparents you've never met have died and have left their old farm and everything that comes with it solely to you.

You don't know why they would do such a thing but you have been quite bored of your current life for some time so you decide to take a leap faith and leave the comforts of the city behind to move into the idyllic Emerald Acres for a new beginning. The countryside is certainly breathtakingly beautiful; your new farmhouse comes with a huge garden exceeding all of your expectations and the animals are so cuddly and cute, too!

Unfortunately, you have no idea what you're doing but it can't be that hard to run a small farm all by yourself. Can it? Maybe with some help from the other residents of Emerald Acres you may have a better chance at making it...

Fully customizable MC. Decide your character's name, gender (trans + non-binary inclusive), pronouns, physical appearance, personality & background ++ The only thing that is locked in is that MC will always be queer-coded, no matter how you play them. 🏳️‍🌈

Name and maintain your farm by taking care of your animals and garden. Do you thrive in your new life as a farmer or do you hate every second of it? Will you settle down permanently or will you return back to the city with your tail between your legs?

Discover family secrets! Apparently the farm and the house come with certain strings attached.

Choose an animal companion who will follow along with you on your adventures.

Explore the Emerald Acres: the village of Roseborough, the Wuthering Woods, Honeyfur river and other surroundings.

Romance 1 out of 6 possible candidates. Queerplatonic routes are available for Juniper and Bunny/Bo.

Build lasting friendships with the other main cast + side characters.

ROMANCE OPTIONS:

🧸 Bunny / Bo Abernathy [F/M], she/her or he/him. || intro.

B, along with their daughter Sunny, is your new friendly neighbour who owns a farm a couple of kilometers away from you. They are always willing to listen to your troubles and help in any small or big way they can. They are one of the kindest people you've ever met but remain surprisingly tight-lipped about themself, perhaps for a good reason.

��»-----------► I've never known someone like you. Someone who makes me feel so loved and happy that I feel like I could just float away.

🔧 Oskari Kivi [M], he/him. || intro.

You never expected to meet him again here of all places. Oskari is a city boy through and through and your past with him is complicated (whether you were lovers or just friends) and you haven't seen him in at least four years since your fallout. You're not sure whether it's a good or bad thing that he hasn't changed at all.

»»-----------► I missed you. A lot. I just wanted you to know that.

🐾 James Briar [F], she/her. || intro.

The fact that James is hot as hell only slightly makes up for her rude and disagreeable behaviour when you first meet her. She is the town's only vet so you will need her services from time to time whether you like it or not. James seems to have great love for animals, but claims that fellow humans are not her thing. You don't quite know what to make of her.

»»-----------► When I first met you I thought you were a spoiled city brat. Turns out I sort of like it.

🦋 Juniper Starling [NB], fae/faer. || intro.

Juniper is an eccentric but respected figure in Roseborough as fae runs a small (and free!)  healer's clinic offering help without turning anyone away. Fae must be one of the most beautiful people you've ever met and seems to always have a line of suitors following faer wherever fae goes. You need to stick out if you want faer attention.

»»-----------► You are certainly an interesting one, kitten. I will have to keep a close eye on you.

🥧 Willow / William Higgins [F/M], she/her or he/him. || intro.

Will is almost as new in the town as you; they bought the tavern of Rosebud a few months prior and are still adjusting to their job and everything that comes with it. Will clearly feels out of place and lonely in their current situation, at least before meeting you. They seem friendly, if a little overly flirty, and eager to get to know you.

»»-----------► Oh, you are absolutely precious, sunshine. I could just eat you up for a dessert. 

🔮 Sage Moonfall [NB], he/him and they/them. || intro.

The people of Roseborough call him the Hermit of Wuthering Woods but that seems to be only a fraction of the truth. There's a rumour that they are over a century old and something not entirely human, but no one has the courage to approach them to actually ask. He seems to be endlessly fascinated by you.

»-----------► Tell me: what do you desire? I could make that happen with the snap of my fingers.

#interactive fiction #twine wip #lgbtq #dating sim #interactive novel #queer fiction #tales from roseborough #roseborough if

[earthstellar]

Caminus is a disabled Titan and I love him

His physical body has been completely separated into parts and fully utilised to the maximum possible degree for the sake of his Citizens

He was never going to be able to be fully repaired in the first place, and instead of even trying, he decided to put all of his remaining energy and resources into entering a permanent physical dormancy so his people would have somewhere to live and thrive

The effort it takes him to keep himself operational enough to provide the basics for his Citizens means that the strain severely impacts his remaining cognitive capacity and communicative ability

The Camiens realise the extent of Caminus' love for them, the extent of his devotion to his people being so great that he has given them every physical and mental part of himself to build upon and thrive

Even if those parts were already damaged upon arrival, it doesn't matter-- Caminus fulfils his duty into perpetuity

The most important thing the Camiens derive from Caminus himself is not fuel or power or infrastructure, but his eternal love

He has imbued his people with his creativity, curiosity, a more spiritual approach to philosophy, a cultural emphasis on friendship and mutual aid borne out of a need for resource conservation-- Thus providing environmental and resource awareness via his very state of being

We don't know much about Caminus as a person, aside from his heartbreak at the betrayal of Life Maximo and how the fallout from that was enough to send him away from Cybertron and leave Metroplex behind

But I think we can take some reasonable guesses from what we know of him through the optics of his Citizens and from what we know of his actions in general, and say that Caminus is--at his very core--devoted, loving, creative, sensitive, strong

And he is very much a disabled character. The fact that he is physically and mentally disabled is a critical part of why the Camien culture is the way it is, informed how this society developed, and even lent quite a bit to the creation/revival of Cityspeaking as an art form, which allowed him by proxy to help Metroplex from afar even while largely dormant himself

I don't see Caminus himself discussed very often, but he is absolutely one of my favourite characters

A Titan who brought an entire people and civilisation into existence, while also being physically and cognitively disabled.

He is never repaired. He cannot be repaired.

And that is fine; His love for his people is undying. His spark continues to spin, hidden far below the surface, for as long as love itself can live-- Far beyond any physical or metal tolerances, Caminus loves his people.

Forever.

And even without repairs, that is enough for the spark of a Titan.

(This isn't to romanticise the state of his health and his difficulties, but rather, is to highlight that his personal motivation is primarily his love for his people.)

Being disabled does not stop anyone from loving.

And we actually get to see that with Caminus!

In a lot of media, disabled characters are often highlighted for what they don't have, rather than what they do have and who they actually are as people.

The way Caminus is portrayed, his disabilities are critical to not just his own story but to the stories of all Camien people in one way or another. His influence and the impact of his state of health is massive.

But we also get to know who Caminus is, as a person. He values connections with others, he is loyal, creative, caring, and so on. He has significant compassion and dedication towards smaller beings, and values life. He had close relationships with his respective Prime and his "brother" (Metroplex).

I just really like Caminus a lot, idk I'm at work so this is probably not as coherent as I'd like lmao

#caminus #idw 1 #idw transformers #maccadam #maccadams #disability in fiction #disability in media

[koddyroddy]

DFF Episode 5 Thoughts & Questions

I have so many thoughts after Episode 5 of Dead Friend Forever.

What stood out the most was the simple fact that these kids were a train wreck waiting to happen. So much could have been avoided if anyone of them had been a different person, but No. Isn't that the definition of a tragedy?

I thought the show did a good job of showing the cause and effect of their individual decisions leading them down this path. Por and Fluke wanted to do the movie for their college portfolios and needed Tee to join to get everyone involved. Tee cared about money, so Por mentioned they might be able to show the movie in theaters and make money. Tee reminded Por of this once their proposal/script won the funding. Por realized he needed a better camera to handle movie theater video resolution, etc.--all of them just marching towards tragedy none the wiser.

Now for some questions:

Jin, why are you still friends with these people? Is Jin faking his friendship until he can get away from them? I ask because I don't think he would stay friends with them if he knew exactly what Tee and Top (and by extension Fluke) had done to Non. If he doesn't know what happened in the past, then why is Jin so jaded in the present? Was it just because of his history with Phi?

New, the brother of Non, possible fraternal twin? Doesn't seem likely, but if the show wanted either Phi or Tan to be Non's brother when they are his age, then perhaps Non's brother is a twin. I got the impression, however, that the brother was out of high school and studying abroad for college, but I could be wrong.

Heart Emoji, are you Non's friend? Distant lover? Friend/crush? Seems more likely that either Tan or Phi would turn out to be Heart Emoji. White, of course, is the another option.

Teacher Keng, what is your deal? How are you involved?

Tee, if your family is dependent on your uncle for your father's medical expenses, then how is your family surviving in the present day with him being in jail? Very curious about the fallout of Tee's uncle's business, but this is somewhat of a side note. That said, the placement of the newspaper in the house with the article about Tee's uncle--seems even more obviously strategically placed. I wonder if Tee even saw it. Was he the intended audience for it? Was White the intended audience? Jin?

Non, when (if ever) did you find out about how Tee and Top set you up? With the newspaper left in the house, I assume that the killers know about what Tee and Top did to Non, so my question is whether or not Non himself found out before he "disappeared."

Again, Non, did you go study abroad after the incident and then come back to get revenge three years later? With a crutch?!?! Non's mother seemed enthusiastic about the idea of all of her kids studying abroad, so maybe she pushed him to do so after everything went down.

Top, why so childish? Have you never had to take responsibility for your own actions ever in your life? I feel no particular remorse for your possible possession, but I wonder how intentional that is on the part of the show. Both Tee and Por where shown to have external pressures dictating their choices and the show has already established Fluke's self-centered nature dominating his choices, but the show has not shown any such reasons for Top's actions.

Final conclusion--I think I need to rewatch the first episode. The friend group dynamics might have additional nuance now. Also, I'm wondering how Phi got the initial clip of the original movie. Where did he pull that one out of?

Can't wait until Episode 6.

#dead friend forever #dff #dff the series #be on cloud

[kwillow]

What traits do the people in theos choosen few have?

Ngl theo definitely seems like he'd be the kind of guy to enjoy quietly spending time with someone where you're both in the same room but doing different things, but like no talking, no contact, just in each other's presence

I'm answering this one a bit out of the context of Amaranthine specifically because it got me thinking about all the various people Theo's gotten close to in all his incarnations as a character over the past too-many years. Not all of these characters are in his "current" story, but the through-line of his desired traits in a "chosen one" are there nonetheless. He's developed a diverse set of friends that don't have too much in common at first blush. But there are a few commonalities!

As established, Theo is extremely paranoid and has been burned by people many times before, which is one of his many barriers to getting close to others. A person often needs to have a quality that makes them feel more "safe" to him in order for him to stop seeing them as a potential enemy. Most often, this trait is "innocence" or "naïveté," or put in another sense, being so stupid Theo can't possibly imagine them trying to betray him. In one AU (Fallout), he developed weird friendships with three people (Jack, Frank and Dwight) because he thought they were all incredibly dumb and utterly clueless and therefore anything kind they did for him was probably genuine. In another roleplay I did with him, he very quickly developed a bond (and very one-sided infatuation) with a blind woman. She literally couldn't judge him on appearances, so he felt less defensive around her.

He tends to feel even more guarded around men compared to women for various reasons (daddy issues, bad school experiences, often more physically threatening to a little guy like him, feeling the primal urge to battle for dominance, so on), so it's theoretically easier for him to become close to women. At least, it's harder for him to start off on the complete wrong foot with a woman than he can with a man, where he takes a look at a random fellow and just decides he's a "bad sort" and cannot be convinced otherwise. That said, he can get close to fellas and he absolutely can learn to loathe a woman, as Hyden and (eventually) Alex could attest.

Hyden gets around the paranoia by being someone who Theo thought was dead for hundreds of years. It's safe to idolize a dead man because he'll never hurt you. Of course, Hyden isn't dead, but Theo already developed his imaginary bond with Hyden-as-historical-figure before he found that out, so Hyden got to fast-track the Theo friendship process.

He also thrives off of being people's protector (which is kind of hard as an asthmatic little person whose main form of exercise is lifting heavy books off the shelf, but he tries). The easiest way to forge a connection with him is to make him happen to stand between you and someone who strikes him as a "bully." Yes, like many men who would dare to say "milady," he is a white knight in pinstriped armor. It is very, VERY hard for him to resist the urge to defend someone he's been made to feel a sense of responsibility for, even if his more cynical side is telling him to just leave someone to their fate. Of course, that's all very noble until he ends up resolutely defending an evil warlock from the people whose lives were destroyed by evil warlock magic.

Theo also isn't someone who really grew up having those things called "friends." He tends to have trouble conceptualizing what a relationship between peers is even supposed to be like. Therefore, he tends to shirk his "equals" and instead is unconsciously more drawn to people he considers either above or below himself in station, intelligence, age etc., as that gives him more of an idea of how he's supposed to behave. He tends to seek out relationships he can imagine to mirror familial bonds (replacement parental figures or "wards") or mythologized dynamics from fantasy novels (handmaidens and feudal lords) because those are the dynamics he's familiar with and feels he can fulfill the duties of, more or less. (That said, he prefers people "below" him in almost every circumstance due to insecurity reasons.) If given enough time, he can ease out of those roles and into a more balanced connection, though.

ALL THAT SAID, none of this is a guarantee. Someone could be a completely innocent, harmless little peasant waif who gets beaten up by burly football players on his doorstop every day and he could still just slam the door and yell at them to stop annoying him with all that racket. In the end, excepting rare impulses of charity, he's a deeply unpleasant and misanthropic man driven by irrational pseudo-logic and unstable moods - you kind of just have to be there at the right time to catch him when his rotten little heart is open.

FINALLY, as for enjoying parallel relaxation as quality time, I'd say that's his "default" mode of enjoying people's company. But he can learn to enjoy more energetic ways of bonding with people (maybe a little too much... he can have some serious thrill-seeking issues if exposure to enough excitement brings them out). As much as he'd insist he could only tolerate another person if they have a taste for opera and quiet reflection, I think he could really get into a monster truck rally if he'd let himself get in the mood for it.

#some aspects of his character aren't really visible in amaranthine (yet) but they're still there and I like to ramble about them #SORRY FOR WORDS WORDS WORDS AGAIN HAHA #i have a conciseness problem #especially when it comes to my imaginary friends #asks #theo

[msmargaretmurry]

Hello! I am new to mcstrome - was wondering what happened? They still friends or no?

hello anon! i am afraid i have nothing but vague speculation to offer you. we do not know what happened between them and we do not know the current state of their friendship. anyone who claims otherwise is either lying to you or has convinced themselves they know more about people's inner and private lives than we can reasonably extrapolate from publicly available information. i live in a constant state of "it's really none of our business but god i desperately want to know the details."

the most we can say without veering into speculation imo is that they're simply not as close as they used to be. it's tempting to imagine a big dramatic fallout (they were SUCH close friends! SOMETHING had to have happened!!) -- and maybe there was one! but it's just as possible that going to different teams and being in new environments and forming new relationships led to just, you know, a natural growing apart. a lot of really intense young adult/teenage friendships don't stay intense as the people involved grow up, for a lot of reasons.

the thing is that dylan continues to say when asked about connor that they're friends. as recently as i believe this current season (although it might have been last season) he said something like "he's someone i was very close with -- still am, really" and it's like. that past tense and then correction? oof. we could read so much into it. it could just be that he's so aware of the drama it would cause if he straight up said they're not close anymore. it could be that they are much more casual friends now but dylan still values the relationship enough to say it's important. we just don't know. connor not being at dylan's wedding felt like such a huge thing and we can infer all we want but that doesn't change that we don't know what's going on privately.

anyway tl;dr we truly just don't know. they could fully not speak anymore. they could text regularly even though they're not best friends anymore. they could have gone through a rough patch when they were growing apart and come back around to be more normal, casual friends. maybe we would know more if the stupid nhl had given dylan the all star nod he deserved this season but as usual the nhl hates me personally and likes to see me suffer.

anyway. sorry for not having better information! wish we knew more! they truly do haunt me!

#the other day tayler strome posted a picture of a stack of signed jerseys the caps wags have collected for charity auction purposes #and one of them was CLEARLY an oilers jersey. but i couldn't tell anything else about it other than it was an oilers jersey #and i have thought about it literally every day since #ask #mcstrome #hockey for ts

[kess-in-the-perthchimzone]

What the hell is Ben thinking in NLMG? Part 1 (up to immediately following the outing)

Why is a multiple thousand word, multiple parts essay coming out about Ben from Never Let Me Go so long after the show ended? The very quick summary is – like many of us, I was immediately sucked in by the Dangerous Romance trailer. Excitement about the show made me want to learn more about Perth and Chimon’s background. 

Although I swore I’d never watch Never Let Me Go for reasons I won’t go into here, I gave it a shot to see the two of them in action. As I watched, I fell completely in love with Chopper. And since Chopper loves Ben, I became somewhat obsessed with figuring out what the heck was going on in Ben’s head. On first watch, Ben drove me crazy— it felt like he was constantly flip-flopping; taking one step forward, two steps back; and generally being a big ole hypocrite.

But after multiple rewatches, I realized that Ben actually goes through four distinct character arcs within the show that help explain his actions. I’m going to break those down here. 

(Quick caveat that this is very Ben/Chopper focused because I watched the absolute bare minimum of Ben’s scenes with Nuengdiao necessary to write this. Again, I love Chopper too much to see his person with someone else!) 

Arc 1 - Ben explores being with a man for the very first time; he also realizes that losing Chopper as a friend hurt him badly

Let’s start by throwing it back to 10th grade. Here are a few things we know about younger Ben thanks to canon: 

Chopper was his very close friend – they were close enough that other people like Nueng, who doesn’t seem to pay much attention to anyone at school, noticed their relationship.

He was at least equally, if not more terrified of his dad than he is in modern day.

Because of this fear, coupled with the things he’d presumably been hearing all his life about homosexuality being wrong, he lived in complete denial of at a minimum, his feelings for Chopper, but possibly his sexuality overall. He actually admits this twice:

Listen to his voice when he says this in episode 8 – he is rueful. He sounds incredulous. He’s realizing as he says it, that that was complete BS. He probably caught himself staring at Chopper’s pink lips or looking at the way his hair fell across his forehead and found ways to explain it away often enough that it became habit.

Back then, out of sheer self-preservation, Ben had thoroughly convinced himself either (a) that he was straight, or (b) that he absolutely, under no circumstances had feelings for his best friend. He suppressed all his feelings for Chopper so deep he didn’t even know they were there. And once he learned Chopper liked him, he rejected him in a way that was unmistakable. 

At the time, that wasn’t a lie – Ben thought he meant it when he told Chopper he didn’t feel the same way. 

10th grade to present day (less than two years)

Ben immediately suffers for this — he completely loses Chopper in his life. I get the sense they only had each other, and both of them leaned heavily on the other considering the stress they both were dealing with at home, so this would have created a noticeable absence in both of their lives. 

You can argue that vacancy persists to modern day. To quote @thirstkanaphan , “the fallout of the loss of their relationship is also evident in their respective lack of other close friendships when the series begins. Does Chopper have any friends? The bullies don't target him unlike Nueng because he shrouds himself in an aura of cool untouchability (and genuine danger); but Chopper seems to be quite isolated. And while Ben achieves a high social rank in school (student council president) and cultivates a congenial personality, we also don't see anyone coming to his defense in the aftermath of The Outing. Who are their friends?”

Chopper later explains to Ben why he stopped talking to him, and his perspective is completely understandable, but I can also see how that wasn’t fair to Ben – to overnight lose his best friend when he thought he’d told Chopper the honest truth about how he felt.

I definitely don’t think Ben expected that would happen; I’m guessing for the first few weeks or months after Chopper pulled away, he kept waiting for him to come back

Over time, Ben became increasingly hurt and lonely, but I think once again he denied the shit out of it. He threw himself into his music (which based on the way Chopper spoke has only recently started to take up much more of his time). When they do speak for the first time in the present day – more to come on that – these are Ben’s first words:

It’s telling that Ben’s first reaction is anger to see Chopper. He’s convinced himself over time that losing Chopper was for the better – that Chopper is a selfish jerk – but that anger has only been masking a lot of pain underneath. 

This brings us to the start of the series

Ben first starts paying attention to Nuengdiao for a few reasons: because Nueng seems so lonely; he’s in awe of Nueng’s piano playing; and as class president it really is his job to help put other students at ease. There certainly is a superficial attraction there but also — it’s no coincidence Neungdiao is Chopper’s cousin and presumably resembles him!

@thirstkanaphan adds: It's telling that Nueng and Ben probably did not interact much before the start of the series, but the death of Nueng's dad and his subsequent return to school results in the escalation of bullying towards Nueng, as the bullies feel as though Nueng no longer has the same protections as he once did. Ben is - at heart - a caring person who dislikes seeing others in pain. 

Over time, this shifts to more genuine romantic interest. In Never Let Me Go, Nuengdiao serves as the first time Ben has felt brave enough to admit that he is interested in a man and to explore pursuing some kind of relationship (whereas, Ben plays an important role as a catalyst that helps get Nueng and Palm together). More than anything, I get the sense Ben feels Nueng is safe. He’s similar to him so Ben understands him, he’s very quiet, and he keeps to himself — so as Ben starts to finally come to terms with himself and his sexuality, Nueng is a good potential person to explore those feelings with. With Nueng, Ben gets to have a pure, simple crush, whereas his feelings for Chopper are significantly more complex – and bogged down in years of other more negative emotions. 

When Chopper and Ben speak for the first time in episode two, Ben’s frustration in Chopper’s absence becomes immediately clear from his words and tone (see above). He makes it very obvious: “You are the one who has avoided talking to me. Then you disappeared”

This is also the conversation where Chopper asks him about becoming close to Nuengdiao.

Ben’s incredulity at this is palpable. On first watch I thought his line of “have you been watching me” was over the top, but it’s unmistakable that he’s like (“this is why you’re finally talking to me??”). By leaning in so close to Chopper, he’s actively trying to provoke him. (EDIT made many months later. Also!! As you’ll see in later parts, Ben jokes about things he wants, so “Have you been watching me” is VERY interesting.”)

In this scene, I think Ben answers Chopper honestly about what he thinks of Nuengdiao: He’s interesting, he doesn’t brag about his father’s name, they get along well because of music. Nothing about this is overly romantic. Slightly out of order but:

And after this brief and very awkward exchange, Chopper asks:

You can see that Ben is genuinely rocked by this. He can’t believe someone who used to be his friend would ask something like this

This is when Ben drops the line “maybe because you think of me this way we aren’t friends anymore”. At the time, I think his feelings got a little lost because the audience was being led to be suspicious of Ben’s motives, but looking back, Ben is so so so stung by everything about this exchange. 

You can argue that Chopper’s comments hit a nerve – Ben is being duplicitous. He has been hiding his attraction to men from the people in his life for years. And you can tell Ben is wondering, (“Does he really think this little of me? Is it possible I deserve that?”)   

It’s after this that Ben’s solicitation of Nueng escalates — his burgeoning crush aside, I would argue some of his determination is targeted indirectly at Chopper, like (“see, I don’t need you, I have a new friend”)

And then we get to the paper cutting scene, which is a crucial one for Ben & Chopper: 

It had already been made pretty clear to the audience that Chopper liked Ben, so I remember YELLING at my screen at this line for how badly that had to hurt him. But now that we know Ben knew about Chopper’s feelings all along, this line is actually kind of cruel. And Ben follows it up with a similarly cutting piece of dialogue. “Like I said . . .”

Apparently this is a thing he has said to Chopper previously – possibly while rejecting him – and it can be read as surface level; similar interests, etc. But we, as the audience, could also read into it that Ben means someone else who’s not ready to be out of the closet yet (going back to Nueng = safe)

This boy is hurt and he is so very bitter and he is exceptionally good at masking it with a smile and an easy tone. I think it’s telling that he word for word asks “what if I confess to him and he rejects me?”. He is thinking about the 10th grade as much as he is present day.

Except despite Ben’s slides towards pettiness, Chopper remains nice, he encourages Ben in this very soft earnest voice. He apologizes for what he said about Nuengdiao. He says WHO WOULDN’T LIKE YOU?

And look at Ben’s face here. The raw, unguarded staring that goes on for a second too long:

I think in this moment he’s beginning to truly understand how much he hurt himself when he rejected Chopper and feeling the first stirrings of the confusion that come back in full force in episode 8. (“Does he still like me? But he wouldn’t be encouraging me and Nueng if he did, would he? Why does the way he’s looking at me so intently make me feel so weird?”)

You can see him try to shake it off. He convinces himself it’s his excitement over them talking again.

They don’t show it on camera, but Chopper touches his hand or his arm – there’s a clear movement just below screen – and Ben gives him another one of those unguarded looks.

The cracks are already here in full force in episode 4!!

And then a whole lot of stuff happens with Ben and Nueng afterwards during which Ben gets to be a normal teenage boy who likes another boy and has the freedom to explore that. This is important to his development, because by exploring – and acting on – his attraction to men through his interactions with Nueng, he is better able to later realize he likes Chopper later. 

@thirstkanaphan helpfully provided some context on the main romantic plotline that I missed entirely while skipping all the P/N scenes: Director Jojo films the first few episodes in a way to make the viewer suspicious of Ben’s intentions. We are meant to regard Ben’s open display of care and concern with wariness in the context of how the rest of the school treats Nueng. Plus, we are in BL territory and Ben is set up as the second romantic lead, so we are conditioned to root for Palm, who is standing outside this scene at the piano bench, witnessing their kiss with confusion, jealousy, and heartbreak. We are meant to be rooting for the main couple, so while Ben's actions may be considered reckless (kissing at school? wow!!) this moment sets Palm/Nueng's romantic arc in motion  - Nueng's disappointment in Ben, his breakdown on the roof, and Palm's subsequent offer to replace the memories of Nueng's first kiss. For all that WE are concerned with Ben's interior life, the show is not. The show needs Ben to be the foil for Palm, so that Palm can be noble and swoon-y for Nueng. 

At this point, the pivotal Ben/Nueng moment happens— the photo of them gets plastered all over the school entry, and Ben, who is visibly cowed by his father the entire time in the office, makes the horrible decision to say Nueng forced himself on him; we’ll come back to this decision in Arc 3. 

I cannot understate how traumatizing this whole experience had to be for Ben. This would be deeply scarring for almost anyone. His first queer experience should have been a positive experience for him and it was treated entirely as something wrong – something to be embarrassed of; something his father would under no circumstances tolerate. Although he makes a bad decision, he is still a victim here.  

I will wrap up part 1 with the lunch scene, which never fails to touch me deeply. (I can’t believe anyone genuinely thought Chopper spread those photos!!): Ben, who is feeling ashamed of himself and isolated from the entire school, goes to sit at a lunch table all alone. While everyone else stares at him and whispers behind his back, Chopper comes over and takes a seat beside him without a single moment of hesitation. He assures Ben. He touches Ben’s hand! He offers Ben help. And he coaxes a tiny smile out of him.

For all that his mind was on what happened in the office, I think from the moment Chopper takes hold of his wrist, Ben’s thoughts are completely on him:

In this moment, he must be thinking about how good of a person Chopper is, how empty he felt for so long without him, and how grateful he is to have Chopper in front of him right now. And what’s so beautiful is — this is probably one of the lowest points in Ben’s life, but it’s also the moment his closest friend comes back to him. I genuinely tear up thinking about it. How much did that mean to him?

–

TLDR: In his first character arc, Ben simultaneously confronts the fact that losing Chopper as his friend in 10th grade hurt him badly, and begins to explore his attraction to men through his pursuit of Nueng – who (initially) serves as a safe person for him to do so with. Both halves of this arc conclude at about the same time – he gets to kiss a boy for the first time and in that aftermath, Chopper returns to his side. But the events of arc 1 create a new set of problems for him that I will explore in parts two, three, four, and five!

Continue to part 2.

#never let me go #never let me go the series #nlmg #chopperben #chopper the best boy in the whole world #chopper kiattrakulmethee #benchopper #ben x chopper #chopper x ben #thai bl #ben nlmg #perth tanapon #chimon wachirawit #nlmg ben #meta meta meta #Ben meta series

[wanderingwomanwondering]

610 Buddie Meta - Opening Emergency Call

heart of glass A state of extreme emotional fragility or susceptibility, one that is easily influenced or affected by others.

The opening emergency call in the lightning strike ep has been gnawing on my face since it aired. I really couldn’t figure out how it tied into the events of 610/611 but now I think I get it.

In 610′s opening emergency the dad is at the beach playing with his kids in the sand. The lightning strikes then the sand immediately turns to glass creating multiple lacerations on the dad. The 118 arrive on the scene and dig him out. The show makes a big deal of having Buck explain to the kids the way lightning turns sand to glass. Meanwhile Eddie is behind him in the shot and is holding chunks of the glass. Before they started digging the dad out, Eddie is also the one to note that he hopes the lightning doesn’t strike twice...in his conversation with Buck where Buck points out that there wasn’t any rain to warn of a possible lightning strike.

I think there are multiple links between that emergency, Buck’s lightning strike, and Eddie’s emotional fallout.

My money is on Eddie being the main parallel to the dad in that 610 opening emergency. Here’s my reasoning: We saw Eddie on the beach back in 607 with Chris when he spoke with Felisa (whose name means “happy”) and finally recognized that he was ready to think about his future since he’d started his major healing arc in 5b. Like the dad who was focused on his kids after a divorce, Eddie was focused on Chris always but especially after Shannon’s death back in 2b. The lightning that turned to glass around the dad feels like a metaphor for Eddie’s heart turning to glass - aka “heart of glass” meaning a delicate/breakable/broken heart - after Shannon died and now again in 611 after Buck’s lightning strike. That whole emergency actually foreshadowed that Eddie was going to be struck by the same bolt of lightning that got Buck AND that his reaction was going to be similar to how he felt after Shannon died.

I think the next meaningful layer of symbolism in the Eddie-Emergency!Dad parallel is the rain. The dad and kids didn’t have warning of the lightning because there was no rain. Going back to Shannon’s death, Eddie seemed to feel blindsided by that too. He didn’t expect her to ask for a divorce and he certainly didn’t expect her to die, though we could argue the writing was on the wall for all that, Eddie himself is fairly well established as clueless about the divorce before she requests it. 

Fast forward back to our current ep, we are left with the impression that there was warning for the Buddie of it all because both Buck and Eddie were in the same downpour before the lightning strike at the end of the ep. Not to mention Eddie himself commented on the rain finally starting when they were riding to the scene of the apartment fire. My point is that while Eddie didn’t expect to be overwhelmed by Shannon-shaped emotions until the bitter end back in 2b, we can argue that Eddie definitely expected to be deeply and harshly impacted by something happening to Buck out of the blue. I’m not trying to say that Eddie didn’t care about Shannon, because he did! But he had his hackles up and his emotional armor at the ready with her until she hit him with the one-two divorce and death punch. 

Eddie has no such armor when it comes to Buck. The best he can do to hide his heartbreak and overwhelm at various points in his relationship with Buck now that he’s done some healing is to keep his distance but he’s still loudly feeling every tiny shift that happens in their relationship. The two of them have multiple seasons of professional partnership, general friendship, and borderline co-parenting between them, and they are nowhere near on bad terms with each other. So Eddie is fully aware going into the lightning strike that if anything were to happen to Buck, he would be devastated. I think his awareness of that is a daily thing because they work a dangerous job together every damn day. In season 2, even after they took vows to one another, he might have been able to deny it but now in season 6, no one can tell me that Eddie isn’t hyperaware of what his life and his mental state would be like if he lost Buck. Buck matters to Eddie so damn much and he knows it. Hence the rain as a warning right before the lightning strike that takes Buck out and crushes Eddie’s glass heart. Turns out lightning did strike twice, once for Shannon (remember Eddie crying on the beach clutching her letter in his hands) and now for Buck.

The degree to which Eddie feels at liberty to show his shattered heart after the Buck lightning strike is another story. I think the opening 610 emergency foreshadowed that part of Eddie’s reaction too. The dad in the call asks for his kids and tells them he’s going to be okay. He’s trying to ease their minds even while bleeding out. Eddie basically does the same thing by explaining Buck’s coma to Chris and then standing behind him, out of sight to cry softly in the corner! Eddie didn’t want his distress to spread to Christopher. He wanted him to be his usual hopeful and positive self. He didn’t want to scare Christopher and make him worry for Buck more. Still though, just like the dad in the emergency is really and truly hurt and struggling, Eddie is too. His glass heart is shattered by the lightning strike. Because Eddie was hit by the same bolt, it’s clear that the emotional fallout for him from the lightning strike will be huge. My guess is that he may revert a bit while processing everything that happened, but I don’t think that will last long if the show goes that route because Eddie’s done some major healing. He will hopefully feel empowered to say how he’s feeling about the lightning strike and Buck almost dying. Bonus points if we get overprotective and anxious Eddie aggressively guarding Buck’s back, front, and flanks, before he finally delves into the trauma...out loud...with Buck!!

On the Buck and kids side of that 610 emergency call, he was explaining the intense heat of a lightning strike to the kids and how it turns the sand to glass. He also noted that you can’t fix everything but it will be okay in the end. Basically control of every situation isn’t possible. Interestingly, Chris seems to intuitively understand this fact that Buck had to work hard to start to understand. Chris takes Eddie being shot and Buck being struck in stride. He loves them both and is concerned about them but he doesn’t imagine that anything is his fault or even that he has to do anything different to fix the situation. Chris just loves them, shows up for them (video call with Eddie after the shooting and hospital visit with Buck during the coma), and then he trusts the universe to bring them all together again! Buddie need to take a page from Chris’ book!!

The 610 opening emergency was honestly doing way more Buddie and Buckley-Diaz Family work than I ever would have expected!

#buddie #buckley-diaz family #911 meta #911 6x10 #911 6x11

[rogue-durin-16]

ROGUE-DURIN-16'S HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

Key: f=fluff || a=angst || f-a=fluff+angst || ≈f=mostly fluff || ≈a=mostly angst || os=oneshot || hc=headcanons ||mp=multipart || ?=request || db=drabble/blurb

• FRED WEASLEY

An unusual year [Part I] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] [Part V] (f|mp)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Life-saving sharpie (f-a|os)

Summary: Despite being a muggle, Y/n's mother was an expert in divination. She tried to teach Y/n, who saw it as a mere muggle game. But, oh, what a powerful weapon a muggle game can become in the hands of the right witch.

Fireworks and streamers (f|os|?)

Request: I have been insecure about my curly hair lately and was wondering if you can you write something with one of the weasley twins where the reader is insecure about her curly hair and one of the twins makes her feel better.

Miss Slytherin (f|os)

Summary: Fred meets the perfect girl at the beginning of his seventh year; although he is reluctant to ask her out, the universe keeps throwing her into every place Fred finds himself in, even in the most unexpected one; the Quidditch pitch.

You drive me mad (f-a|os)

Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.

Stick together (a|os)

Summary: When Fred finds out Y/n is planning on leaving the Wizarding World, he canalizes his feelings in the worst way possible, which leads to a terrible outcome that seems unfixable.

Unsurprising (f|os)

Summary: There were a few moments during Fred's friendship with Y/n's in which they were a bit too close to kissing. Then, there was that one time they did.

Just the two of us (f|os)

Summary: Hoping to be able to impress his Yule Ball date, Fred ask Y/n for a few dance classes.

Magnet (a|os)

Summary: Before war, one would have sworn that Fred Weasley had found the one, but after several misunderstandings that led to a fallout, they drifted apart. When they attempt to move on from each other, the Universe gives them a second chance.

• GEORGE WEASLEY

The right moment (f-a|os)

Summary: Y/n and George had been crushing on each other for too long, but neither of them said anything. They both were waiting for the right moment to do it, but with a war upon them, was there really such thing as 'the right moment'?

Things never go as planned [Prologue] [Part I] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] [Part V] [Part VI] [Part VII] [Epilogue] (f-a|mp|?)

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n-well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Mermaid (f|os)

Summary: the sexual tension of George and Y/n's weird friendship is getting the best of their friends, so when Harry suggests a trip to the Black Lake, they become adamant about getting them together.

His warm eyes (a|os)

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Out of trouble (f-a|os)

Summary: After a Quidditch match, both George and Y/n sneaked out to grab a drink at the Three Broomsticks with their respective teammates. The tension between the two groups might end up causing more trouble than imagined.

#harry potter masterlist #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

I could never work so close to someone I had feelings for / was in a relationship with after it doesn’t work out (so many actors and actresses leave a sitcom after a relationship fallout with a co star too) but that could just be me. I wonder how involved Jikook was for them to be able to still work closely together after. And was like crazy and face off a “break up / falling out” song then??

The thing is... they aren't working together. They haven't been working together for like two years already. Jungkook won't even do a freaking tiktok dance together with Jimin, or any member for that matter simply because he doesn't want to. They can choose when and if to hang out because they aren't contractually obligated to see each other for schedules anymore.

Besides, nobody really knows what kind of relationship they had, if they had one. I personally never ever believed they were sooo married and together the way most shippers believed. So to me it wasn't really a thing of "they were so together and now they're not", it was more of a realization that it was even less serious and committed than what I had thought it was. And at some point the way their interactions came across, it reached such a low level of seriousness and commitment that it just couldn't be a romantic relationship at all.

I'm friends with everyone I've dated. I've also kissed my friends -even straight girls- and our friendship wasn't ruined for that. So for me nothing is impossible. And I don't necessarily believe "being friends" means you have to hang out everyday or regularly even, just being on good terms with someone and still being somehow updated about their lives. There's one girl that hurt me a lot so I don't really keep in touch with her because I feel like I never got closure, but I also don't have anything bad to say about her and if I see her on the street, I say hi. I genuinely still think she's a good person and I even believe that if we were to link up again, I would probably fall for her again. After we broke up, she kept sending me happy birthday wishes for like 5 years.

I had a girlfriend with whom I broke up many years ago, and then a couple passed and we reconnected. I spent all of 2020 and 2021 with her, she was literally the only person I hung out with during quarantine; her boyfriend at the time lived really close to my house and she was staying at his house almost permanently, so every afternoon I would bike over there and pick her up and we'd go biking together for a couple of hours. It was quarantine, there weren't many cars on the street so it was just us on our bikes. Sometimes we'd stop for ice cream, sometimes we'd do errands together. There's never been any bad blood between us at all.

So maybe it's me and what probably many would consider a sort of liberal attitude towards relationships and all the different kinds of relationships I've had in my life, but almost anything is possible, really. Like 80% of the people I know date without labeling their relationships. There's a reason "situationship" is even a word currently. One thing I don't believe is that either Jimin or Jungkook are cheaters.

As for Jimin's songs, I've talked about them before and I've always been open to the possibility that like crazy was about a break up.

[thedemoninme141]

Love Me Leave Me: Alternate Good Ending Part 1.

The other sad ending is here Celine's Work List Warning: Self Harm. 2 months, It has been 2 months since you came out as a lesbian and Wednesday, who tolerated you all year already hates you for it. You never thought someone's sexuality would affect Wednesday so badly that she had unleashed a torrent of hatred you never thought possible from someone who had tolerated your presence all year.

As the truth spilt from your lips to your so-called "trusted" group of friends, the fallout had been swift and merciless. Enid, who had been your last tether to friendship, now wore a pained look in her eyes, brimming with pity and sorrow.

Your friends, once close allies, had turned their backs on you. The very bullies you thought you had escaped, the ones Wednesday had once saved you from, now saw an opportunity. They hurled cruel words at you, shoved you into the girls' restroom, and locked you in there, leaving you to fend for yourself. The sight of creepy-crawly creatures, the same ones that had filled you with dread, now invaded your room. Someone had left behind intentional proof as footprints of a disembodied hand and a pair of boots. All these horrors could have been reported to Principal Weems, but you refrained. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, and the pain that once cut deep had numbed over time because you found another pain that cut even deeper. You found a solution, to cope with this pain, you found a greater one. A blade was all you needed, you had a collection of them already in these 2 months. Each cut, each red line, became a lifeline to relief from the relentless suffering that now consumed your existence. No one knew, not even "Detective all knowing" Wednesday, of course, you hid them in the bathroom.

The relentless bullying persisted day after day. Katherine and her siren friends, fueled by cruelty, would taunt you mercilessly in the school hallways, their taunts occasionally escalating to physical violence, leaving you sprawled on the unforgiving ground. Strange as it may sound, those physical bruises didn't hurt. What did hurt was when you entered the classroom an unknown disembodied hand dropped a bucket of real human blood on you. The classroom erupted in a chorus of cruel laughter, and even Wednesday had a smug smile on her face. She never smiled, did she? unless she was truly at peace. So yeah, you getting hurt gave her joy. The cuts were deeper that day but you were careful not to cut any vein, You had a collection of jackets now, without them you couldn't go to the classes now. You would love to cut yourself to shreds in front of Wednesday if it gave her joy, cause you loved her, she was the reason you were finally brave enough to come out.

Wednesday despised you, you made her do something she would never do, you made her hurt you. She hated how you were braver than herself to admit your feelings. Falling for someone was never part of her plan, yet you had made it happen. She resented you deeply for that, a resentment that drove her to darker actions. You hated spiders, you used to tell her how creepy they looked. You hated blood, it sent chills down your spine. You hated cuts, your pain tolerance was lower than 0. You hated bees, So she set about crafting a sinister contraption in your bathroom bathtub, a jar brimming with bees, poised to unleash their torment upon you the moment you unwittingly opened it. Her twisted plan was a desperate bid to make you feel the same way she did. That's when her eyes went to a small box, and as always curiosity filled her mind, She took the box carefully and opened it, only to find razor blades, a lot of them, and a small knife. Some of the blades had stains of dry blood on them, the blood on the knife looked recent. Always wearing jackets... 

Wednesday ran, she ran and ran, she had to find you, wherever you were. 

I love coffee, just not as bitter as you. 

Your voice ranged through her head. 

I really wish I could see you smile 

Your smile ran through her head. 

I love planting flowers, the blooming flowers make me happy. 

Now you wouldn't bloom yourself anymore. 

No no no, Wednesday didn't mean it, she couldn't know, she never thought you would turn to this way to cope with this pain, she had to find you, She had to find you, no matter where you were. She sprinted through the courtyard, desperately searching for any sign of you. Wednesday spotted Enid engaged in conversation with Ajax. She hurried over to the pair, her desperation evident in her voice. "Enid, have you seen Y/n anywhere?" Enid's anger flared at the mere mention of your name on her lips. 

"Why? So that you can hurt her more?" Enid had held her grudge against Wednesday ever since the bullying had begun. 

"No, I..." Before Wednesday could explain herself, her gaze shifted, catching sight of you entering the school gates, a shopping bag in your hand. Without thinking, she sprinted towards you, her heart pounding. But you backed away as soon as you noticed her approach, and Wednesday couldn't help but notice the profound sadness etched in your eyes – the same eyes she had avoided for the past two painful months. 

"I need to speak with you," Wednesday implored, her voice trembling with sincerity. 

"No," you replied firmly, attempting to walk away and put distance between you two. 

"Please, this is important," Wednesday persisted, her desperation driving her to reach out and grab your arm in a plea for your attention. You walked as fast as you could to your dorm, You can't feel like this anymore, you have to get to your room and cope. Wednesday followed you, determined to talk to you, she can't let you cut any more. 

"Y/n please!" She begged. You didn't even look back, She ran in front of you making you finally stop. 

"What do you want from me?" You asked, tears in your eyes, your voice broken with sorrow. The bag held close to your chest made Wednesday doubt. She looked at the empty hallway to make sure that it was only you and her and then snatched the bag away from you and emptied the contents on the floor, painkillers, sleeping pills and a new sharp knife. All the things that she liked, yet she felt so much dread in her heart. 

"I am sorry." She whispered, her voice shaking, You hurriedly picked all of them up before anyone could show up. 

"Show me." She said as you stood up. 

"Show me what I've done." She said as she tried to grab your hand, "Please don't." You said. 

"SHOW ME WHAT I'VE DONE." She said gritting her teeth in anger, but not on you, never on you, it was on her own self. She slowly grabbed your hand and took it up to herself, She removed the jacket sleeves slowly to see your arm filled with dozens of cuts, some deeper than they should've been. 

"Please." You cried now. She let go of your hands as she was frozen in her spot. You ran to your room, locked the doors and finally collapsed crying.

Wednesday's mind was a tangled web of confusion and self-loathing. She couldn't escape the stark reality of her actions, the damage she had caused, and the emotional turmoil she had put you through.

She stared at her own hands, the same hands that had pushed you to the brink of despair. She recalled how you had once been scared of even a single cut, how the sight of blood used to make you physically ill. It was ironic and tragic that the person who had once been your protector had become the source of your pain.

Questions tormented Wednesday's thoughts, questions for which she had no easy answers. What had driven her to this cruelty? What had she been hating you for? Had it been jealousy, ignited by your bravery in coming out as a lesbian, something she herself hadn't dared to do? Or had it been something deeper, more profound—a tangled mess of emotions that she couldn't decipher?

She closed her eyes, willing herself to confront the truth. Perhaps it was both. She envied your courage, your ability to be true to yourself, something she had struggled with. And maybe, just maybe, those feelings had morphed into something else, something that scared her even more.

Wednesday couldn't shake the memory of the moments you had shared—your smiles, the way you spoke about your passions, and the raw vulnerability you had displayed when you came out. Those memories haunted her now, reminding her of the warmth and love that she had once felt for you. She had allowed her resentment to blind her to the pain in your eyes, and she couldn't forgive herself for it.

She needed help, she didn't know how she would even earn your forgiveness, does she even deserve your forgiveness?

"Enid..." her voice trembled as she knocked on Yoko's room, Enid had moved there again since your bullying began.

"What do you want Wednesday?" Enid yelled without opening the door.

"I need help." Enid understood what Wednesday needed help for as she could sense the sadness in Wednesday's voice, she hoped and prayed that Wednesday understood the damage she was doing to you, and when Wednesday finally did, Enid herself didn't know if she was willing to help Wednesday or not. She sighed and opened the door.

" Get in."

Inside the room, Wednesday opened up, her words laced with frustration and self-condemnation. "I was blind, Enid. So consumed by my resentment towards love that I callously hurt the only person I truly cared about. It was cruel, I knew it, yet I let it happen. I deserve to be punished for my actions." Wednesday said frustrated at herself, she wanted to hurt her ownself so badly for hurting you.

"Yeah you do, but does she?" Enid said. "You hurting yourself won't decrease her pain, it won't stop her from cutting. This gets only worse Wednesday if you don't do something."

Desperation etched across her face, Wednesday pleaded, "What do I need to do? I'm willing to go to any lengths, even to hell and back, to stop her from cutting, to help her reclaim the person she used to be."

Enid sighed, "You hurt her badly, And I don't know if she will ever forgive you or stop cutting. But.. I guess, we can try." She sighed. "First, you need to apologize sincerely to her. Let her know that you recognize the pain you've caused and that you regret your actions. But remember, words alone won't cut it." Wednesday nodded.

"If she is willing to give you a chance, you need to be her support, Wednesday. Offer her a shoulder to lean on and be there for her when she needs it."

The next day, Wednesday's anxiety was palpable as she waited for you, her heart pounding in her chest like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Each student who entered the classroom raised her hopes and then dashed them as she failed to spot your face. As the teacher began the lesson, Wednesday couldn't contain her restlessness any longer. Without seeking permission, she abruptly got up and walked hurriedly out of the classroom.

She sprinted through the corridors, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios, each step a torment until she finally reached your room. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on your door, her fingers trembling with anticipation. Her desperation was evident in her eyes as she waited for you to answer, her heart pounding with fear of the unknown. She was getting ready to even lockpick your door if you didn't respond, but after a few seconds, you opened the door. Wednesday's throat constricted, and for a moment, she couldn't find her voice. But then she looked into your eyes, and the determination to make things right welled up inside her.

"Y/n," she began, her voice trembling, "I don't expect you to forgive me. What I did was unforgivable. I hurt you, the one person who mattered most to me. I let my own confusion and resentment blind me to your pain, and for that, I'm truly sorry."

She paused, her dark eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of forgiveness or understanding.

"I wish I could go back and change everything, erase the pain I've caused you. But I can't. All I can do is promise you that I'll do everything in my power to make it right, to be there for you, and to support you in any way you need."

Wednesday's words were heavy with remorse, and her vulnerability was plain to see. "I know that words alone won't fix what I've done, but I want you to know that I'm willing to try. I want to earn back your trust, and if you give me the chance, I'll spend every day proving that I've changed, that I've learned from my mistakes."

She took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering.

"I understand if you can't forgive me right now, or ever. But I needed to tell you how sorry I am. You deserve so much better than what I put you through, and I'm determined to be the person who supports you and makes you feel loved and safe once again."

Time stood still as you were silent, you looked into her eyes expecting to see any deception. But you sighed as you only saw regret and remorse in her eyes. Wednesday was sure that her heart had stopped beating at all as she waited for your words. You finally spoke,

"What you did hurt Wednesday." you said, "I don't think I can ever forgive you for that" you stopped.

Wednesday looked down and nodded, as she was about to turn around and walk

But then she heard your words again,

"But I can try," you said.

Wednesday's heart leaped with a mixture of relief and hope as she looked up at you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Author's note: There will be a part 2 of this good ending, I am not as good as Celine used to be at writing, but I tried my best, hope you guys liked it, if you did, please send your love for Celine, not me.

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #angst #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday #wednesday addams angst #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams x you #wednesday angst

[faintingheroine]

One reason I asked about Adnan's social status/influence was that I was thinking of the fallout from the end of the book for the other characters. To start with Behlül, might he have been shunned from his wider family (I imagine for one that he would not be welcome back at the island at his aunt's place) or from some finer circles/connections if they knew Adnan suddenly hated him and no longer spoke of him? With the knowledge of Bihter's sudden death and if he was notorious for being a shameless loverboy, plus if anyone had gossiped about the planned match with Nihal that never happened, I imagine at least some people might put two and two together.

Well, I am sure that he won’t be visiting at the Island with the old aunt but otherwise I am not sure that he will lose much prospects?

He has a father (who is Adnan Bey’s brother) who is alive and well and is just away because he is an official at a province. I don’t think that his father will outright shun him, but I doubt that Behlül will even need his father’s forgiveness that much.

Behlül is an upper-class handsome extroverted young man who has plenty of outside connections due to the myriad of friendships he formed with plenty of people of different ethnicities and religions at the school. There is talk of him becoming a diplomat:

“He remembered one in particular, a German Jewess met at a show of the Operaia Italiana, who, hearing a rumour that was being circulated at that time, that Behlül was to be consul general to some fashionable place, had gone mad with the dream of being the wife of a Turkish civil servant.”

(Chapter 11)

I think this is still a possible way out for Behlül. At the time educated young Turkish men weren’t grown on trees so I doubt that he would be totally dispensable just because of a love affair, however scandalous. Sure, whispers would follow him, but he would make money somehow.

Also I think it is possible that the “society” already kind of suspected the affair:

“The bride had finally begun to interrogate Nihal. She wanted details about her father, was asking questions about his marriage. Then, interrupting one of Nihal’s vague answers, she said, in her familiar tone: ‘Don’t be offended, but isn’t your father too old for Bihter Hanım? If it were Firdevs Hanım,’ she was saying, and leaving off the sentence with a laugh.

As well as feeling a secret resentment towards this girl who talked of her father’s age, Nihal, without being able quite to identify it, also felt something like gratification. That age difference, by constituting a deficiency in this marriage, seemed to exact Nihal’s revenge. The conversation had naturally drifted to Firdevs Hanım. The bride was relating all that she knew about Bihter’s mother.

‘Even though we’re distant relations, you’re hardly a stranger! You probably know more than I do…’

No, Nihal did not know anything; Nesrin and Şayeste’s chatter would not pass beyond a certain bound. Now, as she listened to this young girl who spoke constantly, like the trickle of a small tap, the veils fell away from her eyes one by one. So Bihter’s mother was a… Nihal could not find a description, and was leaving off the sentence she had begun to form in her mind.

Now she understood it all, she understood so many things that she did not wish to listen any longer. At one point, the bride had talked about Behlül. Who was Behlül? Was he young? Was he handsome?

Why was she asking about him? Then the conversation had turned directly to Nihal. Was she not thinking about becoming a bride? Whose wife would she like to be?”

(Chapter 13)

Overall, I doubt that Behlül’s life will be ruined because of this. Adnan Bey is respectable and rich, but I doubt that he is such an “idol” in the larger society that a wrong done to him would ruin an educated fun-to-be-around young man’s life for forever. I think Adnan Bey is an introverted slightly pathetic type: He probably didn’t have sex until he was thirty and his biggest love affair was his marriage. His chief hobby is wood-carving. I somehow doubt that he has a wide circle of friends.

Overall, I think this whole thing will hurt Behlül’s marriage prospects, but not his professional prospects. He will struggle financially a bit for some years, but he will get by. I might be off, I am not a historian, but this is how I feel based on the data in the text itself.

And I think this is fitting. Behlül enters the story in a nonchalant way playing with Bülent, and leaves it just as nonchalantly. As colorful and prominent a character he is, this is not his tragedy. As I often say, he does not pass a reverse Bechdel test even in his thoughts. His character is just there to highlight the male point-of-view surrounding Bihter and Nihal.

#aşk-ı memnu #aşk ı memnu #behlül #adnan bey #asks #aşk ı memnu asks

[lavenoon]

Okay, gonna go slightly for pain with this ask:

We all know the boys love and adore their games. How would Dawn/Dusk/Eclipse react to a game having gone just a step too far? Like at first it was all fun, heeheehoohoo, but then y/n either starts crying or outright states 'this isn't fun anymore, that hurt'. And possibly the reason it got to that point was because y/n didn't want to seem like they were rejecting the boy(s) and this is all in good fun right(?) so they just sort of pushed the negative feelings aside until it just got to be too much, leading to the straw breaking the camels back and causing them to possibly be in tears and then feeling horrible because they didn't know how to communicate their earlier discomfort. How would the boys react to the initial fallout and would it change their demeanor for a while, would they try to talk about it, clear the air? Would they try to pretend all was well why also walking on eggshells?

-P

You went so hard with the pain, I have a short answer, and a longer answer for a slightly different scenario

First also the disclaimer, Eclipse does not play like his brothers, he's playful, but rarely snarky with people he likes (unless it's Sun and Moon, that lovely brotherly bond), plus he doesn't really get that sort of contact with Y/N until way later - so he's not going to be a part of this, sorry!

The short answer for this scenario is simply... They don't have a future, or at the very least need distance for a good while until they can stomach each other again. A scenario where Y/N let the boys believe in a playful rivalry/ friendship filled with teasing banter even though it hurts them is simply doomed. The boys trusted Y/N to be honest, and they didn't get that, and have to realize that all they built together is now shattered, all while Y/N doesn't even know where to start trusting the boys again after that last metaphorical gut punch. The boys of course apologize, and promise not to do it again - so they all withdraw into polite distance, because do they even know each other? It's not a happy ending, and I can't see myself entertaining it for long - either be honest from the start and immediately say when things get uncomfortable, or genuinely love banter, both are fine. But letting them trust in a friendship while letting them hurt you is just... No

For the longer answer I'll grab this ask again - what if it's just one of those days where insecurities lurk closer to the surface, setting Y/N on edge? Since you specified Dusk and Dawn, I'll do the scenario where Robin just. tries to engage in the usual banter, but pre-reveal in main/ reverse AU respectively, and of course not successfully.

So Dusk has the advantage of being generally more attuned to Robin's feelings, because they aren't as defensive with him as reverse AU Robin with Dawn. He'd probably notice something is up quickly - their responses are slower, they zone out more, and they seem more like a shadow of themself the entire night. 

But after the nth near-misstep, Dusk still underestimates just how badly a little comment like "Your head's really not in the game tonight, huh?" would be received.

Robin immediately stops, and Dusk does just a few steps later, looking back to find them shaking, hands balled into fists, and staring at the ground.

He freezes. This was not his intention, and his mind is racing - the comment is completely in line with what they usually throw at each other, in fact, they’ve hurled much worse at each other at the beginning of their rivalry - but still this is the first time he’s seen them break like that.

The thing is, Robin is proud, and stubborn. Pre-reveal, there's no admitting to being hurt - not immediately. Just a strained, shaky, forced out between clenched teeth;

"Best if I leave, then."

And they do. Still tense, they just turn, walking back the way they came from, focusing so very hard on not crying right there that they don't notice how Dusk immediately follows them. he can afford it - because he doesn't care about the mission that much, and there aren’t any people to impress or fool, just them, and that’s all he cares about in that moment. He much prefers these missions as a way to spend time with his little rival, so this? This is not what he wanted.

He pulls them to the side, the funny act immediately dropped. Gentle, but insistent, even as Robin avoids looking at him. Still shaking.

"Hey, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Neither of us believes that. Little bird, it's never 'best if you leave'."

And that's when they break. Fold like a house of cards, and all Dusk can do is hush reassuringly as he kneels beside them, checking their surroundings to ensure they won't be interrupted. He's not caging them in, but rather trying to project stability as he holds on to them, hands reassuringly on their shoulders as his thumbs brush soothing circles through their clothes. It's an awful kind of deja vu - Robin, crumbled before him, and he doesn't quite know what to do.

At least this time they aren't bleeding.

"But what if?"

None of that.

"I much prefer you being here. Who else would I trust at my back?"

And that.. That already helps. It's that absolute trust that they already have, and even in that spiral of negativity Robin finds they can hold on to that.

If only to argue.

"But I keep messing up."

"You're having a bad day. Everyone gets those - not everyone's as stubborn as you though. I just lock myself in my office and don't insist on going out."

"You get bad days?"

"Sure do. Mostly days where talking gets too exhausting. Hard to explain that without words though, so I just do paperwork until it passes."

"You don't gotta talk with me. I'll get it."

Robin, ever deflecting, has no issues trying to comfort Dusk - but he just chuckles, and gives their forehead a little flick.

"That's sweet, but we're talking about you right now, birdie. Do you want to go back? Postpone this?"

They shake their head before ducking down, aware of the risk they're asking him to engage in. It still feels like failure if they go back, and their brain isn't kind to them about it.

"We'll be extra careful, then. You gotta stick close, okay?"

He's still lighthearted, holding out his hand, not a hint of anger or bitterness or annoyance in his expression. They can't really trust their own mind right now, but they trust him. After months of working with him, and ironically because of all the banter he flung at them before - they know he’s honest, as far as is possible for them in their line of work, and wouldn’t trick them like this. He’s not that cruel. 

They take the hand.

"Nice. Once you're back home, you gotta put on your comfiest pajamas though, and make yourself a hot chocolate. Extra sweet. Doctor's orders."

And that's when they find their laughter again, too <3

Dawn, as mentioned above, has it a little harder. Not just because Robin is more on edge around him, but also because he is simply an idiot about it all and more prone to fucking up.

Their shared undercover missions are also social, which adds another stressor for Robin. More people to fool and entertain with polite small talk, which just gets harder by the minute. They struggle to keep up with conversations more and more, spiraling internally about "Oh god, I'm not paying enough attention, am I even smiling? What if I'm giving us away, what if I'm the reason we fail, that'd just prove them all* right -"

(*all being in this case everyone at the agency, including Dawn, as obviously they're all just waiting for Robin to fuck up and boot them from the agency)

Dawn is an idiot, but he's not blind. He notices their fumbling, their strained smiles - and ever efficient, he gives them an out. Hand on their shoulder and leaning in close, creating a bit of a cover for Robin.

"You seem unwell, my dear. Did you eat something wrong? Perhaps you should go, freshen up a little?"

And then lower, quieter, just for their ears:

"You're slipping. Go take a breather."

Robin, stone-faced, goes to do that without another word. There's some awkward chuckles from their former conversational partners, pointing out how there might be "trouble in paradise" - and while Dawn is aware that their situation is nowhere near "paradise", he can't help but agree with the rest of the sentiment.

He saw their expression. He's seen them smug, he's seen them shocked, he's seen them scared, he's seen them happy, he's seen them angry - this is the first time he's seen them resigned.

The breather doesn't stay a breather. After ten, fifteen minutes pass, now Dawn is the one obviously getting antsy, and promptly excusing himself to go check up on his "date". (He's peripherally glad that he gave the explanation of them eating something wrong, because sickness is a valid cover, which both of them need right now.)

He doesn't find them in the bathrooms, nor near any of the public balconies. But the fresh air does give him that idea - his little thief likes their high vantage points.

He finds them on the roof, which they should not have access to.

Robin, hearing the door click, has a good idea of who found them, and only curls up tighter where they're huddled, as hidden as they can get.

"Why are you hiding?"

Dawn isn't here to play games - the mood for that left him as soon as they looked at him with empty eyes. Maybe he'd do well to be just a tad gentler, but he's confused, and honestly kind of worried, so he slips into bluntness.n (They aren't at the stage where he can show concern - is what he thinks)

Robin is still hiding, even with Dawn right there already, and only acts defensively.

“Please, just do your thing. Don’t let me hold you back.” 

They may hide it behind the passive aggression, but the fear is very real. They are holding him back, making him cover for them, making him look for them, and they can’t do anything right, huh? 

The soft sound of shifting clothes, and then there’s a hand tilting up their head to meet his eyes. Confusion twists his expression into a frown, and Robin lowers their gaze almost immediately to escape that searching expression. 

“Darling, in what world would you be holding me back?” 

“In this one, obviously.”

They try to slip out of his hold - but then his other hand cups their face too, and looking away becomes even harder. He looks bewildered, and it makes no sense. 

“Do you think I have any interest in being down there without you by my side?” 

That makes even less sense.

“You can do better without me -” 

“Will you stop slandering my partner? I can do differently, not better. And I want you down there, with me.” 

Robin can’t take it anymore - they push his hands away, trying to curl away, even as one of those hands settles on your shoulder instead. 

“But it’s true, I’m just faking, I’m pretending to be a good agent and somehow I fooled a couple people and now I just -” 

And there’s a handkerchief, dabbing away those first spilled tears. (A fancy one, in red. A little embroidered Sun in a corner, because initials aren’t really an option.) Robin freezes, the rest of their sentence dying in their throat. 

“The outcome is the same, dear. Your results don’t change just because your mind tells you to invalidate your efforts. There’s no one else I’d rather have at my side to stomach these kinds of events.” 

Deflection is easier, always. 

“... You don’t even have a stomach.” 

“Which makes the need for an outlet even more dire, no? Have you seen the suit on that ginger? Their lapels are barely ironed!” 

Some of that indignation is real, and Dawn realizes a second too late that this… perhaps isn’t the time. But another second later Robin giggles softly, and maybe it was the time, after all. 

He softens. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and set up the bug - we have everything we need from those people, and I’ll go ahead and say you’re feeling unwell. We can leave right after.” 

Their smile is small, and hesitant, but he’s never seen anything that filled him with more relief. 

“Okay.” 

For good measure, he smiles at them too, tilting his faceplate just a little. Wraps their fingers around his handkerchief - it’s for them to keep, and he’s so very glad when they do <3

Post reveal, should something like this happen again, the boys are prepared - and much less limited in their reactions. They’ll get to reassure them in the moment - and also at home, ensuring Robin actually rests and doesn’t push themself too far, while taking care to not set them off again. It’s not quite walking on eggshells, because they’re more than capable of being soft, but the gentleness is definitely palpable (because neither of them would try to hide it) <3

#answer let luce #P asks #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #AU AU AU #after trials and tribulations I finally finished this #*looks at my still not smaller inbox* *sighs* /lh #this entire ask is 2K+ words #I will not apologize #Dawn's scenario is a little longer simply because undercover missions involve a bit more people that need to be taken care of #story wise I mean #Dusk can just straight skip to the comfort #I sat on this for days now please just have it oh my god fghdjs #tumblr fought me so hard #almost lost a bunch of words at some point and then it wouldn't let me paste the text in after I switched to docs #so im not going to proofread this i just need it out #enjoy