#if anything i am less weird than you would have expected me to turn out if you knew me at 13

[fillejondrette]

screenshotting bc op made the post unrebloggable. i was homeschooled and i loved it bc it allowed me to follow my passions. e.g. when i discovered glee i literally just did no schoolwork for a week so i could devote myself full time to getting caught up on the show.

no but for real if i had had to go to real school i don't think i would be in law school now

#ppl say oh homeschoolers are weird! often true but have you considered that some people are homeschooled bc they are weird #if anything i am less weird than you would have expected me to turn out if you knew me at 13

[tokkiwrites]

FAWN HEART, PART ONE : The night's desire.

dark!joel miller x f!reader

summary: After a few months of being together, you move in with your boyfriend, 'Adam'. His landlord, Joel Miller, takes a special liking to you.

tags: murder, stalking, spying, mention of abuse, mention of blood, violence, age gap, vulnerable reader, stalker joel, mentions of abusive relationship, pet names, she/her pronouns (let me know if i missed anything.)

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ staring my first series ever !! of course, I will continue it only if this first part does well ( so no spice for now!! ). for now, we're starting off a bit mild, & I'm leaning more on the double storylines . this is short with only 1.5k words, but it's a little gift since i was gone for so long. sorry if it sucks! remember, requests are opened, and your feedback matters the most to me 🐰

【commencing】 : a heart as soft as the embrace of spring. She welcomed everyone with open arms, seeing the best in people, and never turned anyone away, no matter the pain. Her kindness boundlessㅡ she gave without expecting anything in return. But this gentle nature often left her defenseless. she continued to believe in the goodness of others, her fawn heart resilient and unwavering, oblivious to those trampling on it. her fawn heart, her weakness.

「may 04th ㅡ O2:08 AM」

he didn't know her. didn't deserve her. the nerve he had saying he loved her when he doesn't know what love is...he doesn't know what kind of love she needed.

so when he left for work every night, her true love would sneak in. Joel wasn't the romantic type, but for her, he'd do it all. he'd sit there, watching her sleep, staring as her soft lips puffed out when she took her shallow breaths as she slept - how her lashes laid so perfectly onto her cheeks.. that's all he could do - stare. no touching. It killed him. how that asshole could do all that he pleased to her and how she would accept almost nothing in return.

she was sweet. bitterly. her soft, gaze a testament to the trials she's been through. she could've had so much more, yet she chose this moron. Joel couldn't understand why? not just why she chose that - but why everything when it came to her. why? everything about her, she was an enigma. when Joel first set eyes on her, that's all he could think of. why? and how? how could he have lived so long without his angel by his side.

that was 6 months ago. Tonight, it's a little less cold outside- its may, and the summer smell fills the air, as branches sway next to the window in a tireless dance. cars sound in the distance, as late night chatter of the streets fill Joel's ears and her scent his nose. drowning - suffocating him in the anticipation that maybe for one night he'd have her. he never wanted to scare her - to hurt her. she's precious, a porcelain statuette he had to have. Joel was adamant. kissing her only with his gaze, he got up only as the moon kissed the sun goodbye, and the chickadees started their long-awaited song.

「june17th ㅡ O8:42 PM」

late again. he's always late, letting her wait with no sign for hours. it was his birthday, not that Joel cared, but the thin walls provided him with utmost soundㅡ any and all sounds.

she was crying, and he didn't want to budge in making it weird for her, but his heart twisted when he knew she wasted tears on a shit-head like Adam.

but he let his heart get the best of him, and maybe, just maybe, this was the moment when he let his heart dictate, and she finally realizes that she's better than that. better than Adam. Better for Joel. He makes his way to the apartment next door, thinking if he should be honest with her or make up a lame excuse like late payment on utilities or donations for a new front door. He knocked twice, his palms sweaty. This girl made him feel all giddy like a teenager again, heart racing, his dreams full of her. The door cracks open, revealing just half of her red, puffy face with make-up pushed around.

"Y-yesㅡ"

"Hey, there, Iㅡ is everything alright, fawn darling?" his eyes furrow, a weight settling down in his stomach. he couldn't stand seeing her like this. her eyes finally reach his, a glint of gratitude glimmering within them. "hi, Mr.Miller. I'm fine justㅡ" she sighs. "Adam bailed on me.. again!" she tries to laugh it off, wave it as a joke, but the pain in her spirit is apparent. "Sorry if i was, you know... crying too loud. I'll keep it down -"

"fawn...darlin', you know-" Joel's gaze softened "you know you can always come to me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on. As corny as that sounds, 'm all here for ya." looking down at her, he dares not break eye contact.

"Thank you, Mr.Miller.."

"I told you to call me Joel, didn't I?" he tsks, straightening his back. "I feel too old when you call me mister.." Joel admits, in a playful manner. "Got it. Joel." How it rolls off her tongue like honey. how he wants to lick off every drop and indulge into her like the powerful drug she is, so deeply coursing through his being, wishing he'd hear her scream his name underneath him one day. "Right, so- if you ever want anythin'.." he scratches his rough beard. "I'm one door away."

"Thank you, Joel." she steps out barefoot, throwing herself into Joel's arms, hugging him whilst her sweet perfume envelopes them both. Joel breathes inㅡ so close. At last, the hug is broken, and she scurries back inside, leaving Joel stuck in his fantasy.

"My sweet fawn."

「july 3rd ㅡ OO:35 AM」

"Why so hostile, little bird? I thought you liked it when i touched you like this.. a little rough." he rasped, voice scratching at her chest like a knife. "Adam, you're drunk. let's justㅡ get inside." she manages to huff out as her palms lay flat on Adam's chest, pushing him away. "Baby- c'mon, be a doll."

"stop, Adamㅡ stop!" you could hear the frustration in her voice, and the tears that were brimming at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall.

he couldn't just stand there and witness this. he'd regret it forever, unquestionably. " 's everything alright here?" Joel tries to play it cool. He doesn't want to let off too muc. Hee doesn't want it to escalateㅡ for her to get hurt.

" Mr.Millerㅡ"

"Yeah, none of your business, man. Just leave, okay?" Adam scoffs, staring down the hallway where he heard Joel's voice, thinking to himself,'what this old geezer was doing up so late'. "careful, boy. don't want ya to hurt your pretty lady, ok? just makin' sure everything is -"

"yeah, i fucking said everything is alright, so mind your fucking business, dude!" he spat "Jesus, man." Joel does nothing but smile. Does this Adam guy know what he has gotten himself into? Surely not.

He stretches his neck, making it crack as he takes one step closer to where the couple was. By this time, she was already starting to panic, soft pleads leaving her mouth as that jerk held onto her frame, shaking it up whilst he threw rude remarks towards Joel.

"Let go of her, boy."

"Fuck outta here, old ass. Don't make me come to you, I'm not nice when I'm drunk."

"Oh, I know." Joel promptly comes closer so that only a part of his face is visible by the light of the moon shining through the large window.

"Adam, let's just -"

"Quiet, bitch!" With a swift turn, Adam managed to deliver a harsh backhanded slap to her head, the pounding pain sending her a few steps back, right into the wall. "See, if you weren't here I would've gotten some pussy tonight. But you had to show up." Adam laughs, shaking his hand to recover from the hit. "You a knight in shining armor, or what?"

"You apologize to her, before I rip your fucking legs off and shove them up your sorry ass." Joel was calm. he tried his hardest to not run towards her, embrace her in his tight armsㅡ but he had other plans for now.

"Spare me the threats, old man. one wrong move, and your whole body dislocates." Adam laughs hungrily, shoving joel. or at least attempting. " I don't even know why you care so much. This bitch was onto me the whole night, but when its time to finally get the dick she shys away." he raises his arm again, oblivious to the knife Joel had aimed straight to his jugular, all this time, impatiently thirsting over the thought of Adam's blood gushing onto him. At first Adam is confused, but as he catches a glimpse of Joel's dark grin in the moonlight he finally realizes― he'd been stabbed.

with one palm over his mouth, joel grabs Adam closer, the knife slitting further into his flesh, now reaching his ear.

"You gotta know how to respect your elders, boy." Joel sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, staring deep into Adams eyes as he retracts the knife and promptly shoves it right between his eyes, with enough force that you could hear a faint 'crunch' sound. "ㅡand your lady." In a failed attempt to reach for the girl that was frozen in place, Adams pathetically tries to grab onto her dress as he collapses to the ground.

everything is silent for a moment.

So she stood there, watching as the blood from the splayed body pooled at her feet, the only sounds bouncing off the walls that bathed in darkness were her short breaths and slow steps approaching to where she practically turned to stone.

"'s alright, baby fawn . he can't hurt you no more. i promise."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader

[beskarandblasters]

Packin’ (In More Ways Than One)

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: This is inspired by this HOT art by @cass-hues 🍑🔥 Unfortunately, I do not know who made this gif so if that’s you or someone you know, don’t hesitate to inform me and I’ll give credit where it’s due! Thank you to @freelancearsonist for beta reading! 🤍🤍

Summary: You see Din’s bare ass for the first time and get the urge to peg him.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), reader is able-bodied and has no physical description/no genitalia mentioned, anal fingering, sex toys, lube, pegging, praising, pet names (cyar’ika), sonic = shower, refresher = bathroom, no use of y/n

“You’re really going to shower with that bucket on your head?”

Din’s leaning against the doorway of the refresher with a towel sitting low on his hips. He just captured a bounty on Coruscant where it’s currently raining, a downpour that chilled Din to his bones. You suggested that a hop in the sonic would warm him up. But you didn’t expect to see him stripped bare of everything besides his helmet. 

“Yes,” he says plainly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! …You just look a little funny right now, that’s all.” 

“Funny?” he asks, turning and walking to the mirror. But as he walks his towel drops to the floor and you’re met with the sight of his bare ass. And Maker, it is juicy. You had no idea he was hiding that underneath his cape and his flight suit. 

“Oh my-”

“Sorry!” he says, hastily grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to… expose myself like that.”

“I didn’t mind.” 

“Really?”

“But I am a little mad at you right now.”

“Why??”

“You didn’t tell me you were packin’… in more ways than one,” you say, walking and standing beside him in the mirror. 

“Oh… You mean my… behind?” 

“Yes, silly,” you chuckle, running your hand over his ass with the towel in between you two. He tenses up at the motion and you’re just now realizing that he’s probably never had his ass appreciated like this before. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets you feel up his ass while the towel hangs dangerously low around his hips. 

“Is it weird I want to peg you?”

“No,” he says quickly. 

“No as in…?”

“No, it’s not weird.” 

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “Should I… go to the store?”

“Yes,” he says, without hesitation. 

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you chuckle, grabbing your bag and lowering the exit ramp of the Crest. 

You think of where the nearest sex shop might be and quickly decide that lower levels are your best bet. The rain has thankfully subsided, leaving puddles in the street for neon lights to reflect off of. You cruise the streets, searching for the perfect place until you happen upon a goldmine; Nova’s Novelties. 

The door opens and you step inside, immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of sex toys occupying the shelves and walls. There’s a counter in the back where the register is. A woman is there and you can only assume that’s Nova, a beautiful woman with an inviting aura. She makes buying sex toys seem less intimidating. 

“Welcome!” she says, motioning for you to come over. “What brings you in tonight?”

“I’m looking for… a strap-on.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” she smiles, stepping out from behind the counter. “Follow me.”

She brings you to a shelf where there’s a strap on of every size and color, all encased in clear packaging. A silver one catches your eye. 

That’ll match his armor, you think to yourself, stifling a giggle. 

“What do you recommend for a beginner?” 

She reaches and grabs a modest looking one, bright pink in color. 

“This one is great for beginners. Not too big, not too small. And it comes with an adjustable strap.” 

“Thanks!” you say, taking the box from her. “Does it come in any other colors?”

“What were you thinking?”

“…Silver.” 

“You have great taste. Let me check the back.” 

She heads to the back room while you take time to explore the rest of the selection, opting for a bottle of lube, too. Once she emerges with the silver dildo in hand, you check out, handing her a fistful of credits and heading back to the Crest. 

“Have fun!” she says with a suggestive smile just before you step out onto the street. 

As you walk back to the docking yard, you think about Din, waiting for you like such a good boy. You think about the trust he places in you, letting you see him without his armor or his fight suit on and the trust he has to let you do something like this… It’s a testament of your love. 

When you get back in the Crest you find Din, standing in the doorway of the refresher with droplets of water peppered on his skin with steam wafting into the hull from the sonic. His bulge pitches a tent in his towel. You can’t believe your eyes, gawking at how gorgeous he looks. It’s almost criminal he keeps all of this locked away under his armor and it blows your mind that this is the first time you’re seeing him like this. 

“Did you find something?” 

“You bet I did,” you smirk. You take off your bag and hang it on a hook, reaching for the strap-on and the lube. You hold it out in front of you and think about his face underneath the helmet, wondering if he clocked how the dildo matches his armor. 

“You like?” you ask. 

“I do.”

“Good…” you say, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. His skin is warm, still slightly damp from the sonic. “Now be a good boy and get in the bunk for me.”

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he says, dropping his towel and walking across the hull to the bunk. 

He gets on all fours on the bed while you shed your clothes and take the strap out of the packaging, setting it on the edge of the bunk because you’re not ready for it just yet. 

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” you say, kneeling behind him and cupping his ass. 

“Y-Yes, I promise.” 

“Don’t worry,” you giggle, “I’ll go nice and slow at first.” 

You squeeze lube onto your index finger, coating his hole with it and teasing it lightly. He lets out a small whimper in response, already aching for more. 

“What was that?”

“I… want it… already.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you say, sliding your finger in. 

His breath hitches before he exhales with a moan while you slowly work his hole. You curl your finger while your other hand caresses his ass. 

“More,” he softly begs. 

“Be patient,” you coo. 

He sighs, resting his helmet down on the pillow and sticking his ass up higher. Never in a million years did you think you’d have Din in a face-down ass-up position and yet here you are, enjoying every minute of it. 

You pull your hand from his ass and add lube to your middle finger, pushing both back inside simultaneously. A deeper, guttural moan forces its way out of his throat as he melts into the cot faster than a block of ice on Tatooine. 

“Good boy,” you praise, pushing your fingers against his prostate. “But I’m far from done with you.”

“I know,” he whimpers. 

You feel his hole relax around your fingers and a slew of whispers and Mando’a curse words slip out from under the helmet. 

“Cyar’ika, I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh yeah? Let me feel it.” 

He cums around your fingers, a different kind of orgasm he’s never experienced before. His thighs shake beneath him as he rides out his high. 

“Such a good boy for me,” you praise, slowing the movement of your fingers to a stop. You pull them from his ass and get off the bed, putting on the harness and attaching the strap. “But are you ready for more?” 

“Yes,” he sputters, staying in the same face-down ass-up position for you. 

You walk to the front end of the bed, crouching down by his helmet and telling him, “You’re doing so well, baby, coming for me like that.” 

“I am?”

“Mhm,” you whisper, rubbing his back. He shudders at your touch, eliciting a giggle from you. 

“You’re so sensitive right now, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” he sighs. 

“It’s almost over,” you remind him, taking your rightful position by his ass again. 

You spread lube onto the strap and align it with his hole, one hand holding his hip as you thrust into him slowly. He lets out another string of curse words in Mando’a. It’s unintelligible but it’s a sign of how good he feels. 

“You like that?” you chuckle. 

“Yes. So much, cyar’ika,” he moans, just as you draw your hips back and thrust into him again. You put your other hand on his hip, holding onto him as you thrust in and out, working him up to his impending orgasm. His moans, grunts, and whimpers are melodic, like music to your ears. It fills you with a deep sense of pride that you can reduce your big strong Mandalorian to a whimpering mess with just your fingers and a strap. 

“Cyar’ika?” he whines. 

“Yes?” you smirk. 

“I’m gonna-”

“Gonna cum again?”

“Y-Yes.” 

“Do it,” you command, making sure your pace never falters. 

Another moan escapes his throat, slipping out from under his helmet in his beautiful, modulated tone. His whole body shakes with pleasure, quivering as you fuck him through his high, being sure to slow down slightly to not overstimulate him. 

Once he’s done you pull out of him, letting him collapse onto the bunk. Aftershocks of his orgasm make him quiver here and there, his ass shaking with each involuntary movement. You giggle watching him rest peacefully after you just fucked the living daylights out of him. 

You crouch down and whisper, “Looks like you need to hop in the sonic again.” 

“I know,” he groans. 

“I’ll join you.”

“Let’s go,” he says, shooting up and heading to the refresher. He has that specific walk about him, the kind where you walk side to side after a good dicking down. It looks good on him, you decide.  

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #star wars fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters #ppcu fanfiction

[lowkeyerror]

A New Victim pt2

Sam Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Notes: Will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually

Summary: Now you're a character in the story. It doesn't sit well with you.

Part 1 | part 3 | Masterlist

“ No, she’s lying,” Chad dismissed your claims immediately. “ Remember what she said at the park. This is a fucking prank. It’s not real. He’s not he-“

“ Chad,” Mindy cut him off. “ Look at her.”

It was clear to everyone in the room that there was something wrong with you. That whatever emotions you were feeling were real.

The other selling point was that Sam herself was convinced that you were being honest. She was the most skeptical one of the group. However, there was no doubt in her mind that you were not deceiving them.

“ I was on my way home after you guys left. It felt like someone was watching me. I thought I was going crazy, but then I looked around. He was across the street, watching me. He dragged his finger across his neck. I felt like I couldn’t move that’s when Sam bumped into me,” you recounted the events clearly.

“ He was watching us at the park,” Tara deduces.

Sam rubs her forehead, “ It probably looked like we were close. So the killer grouped you with us.”

“ What does that mean?” The fear in your voice made everyone at the group look at you with pity.

“ Welcome to the freak show,” Mindy says.

Anika shoves her girlfriend,” It means, that you’ve just got a bunch of new friends.”

“ Am I going to die?”

They group all share looks.

Sam puts her hand on your shoulder. There’s a fire in her eyes as looks at you, “ No, you’re not going to die. In this group we protect each other and that includes you now “

“ I think you should stay here for awhile Y/n,” Tara speaks softly.

You nod, still unable to fully process what this all means.

“ In the morning we can go to your place and pick up some of your stuff, ok?” This time the older Carpenter sister speaks to you.

You nod again. Your moments away from slipping back into the trance that you arrived in. Sam squeezes your hand lightly pulling you back into the light.

“ Y/n?”

You shake your head and stand abruptly, “ Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

Sam eyes you but agrees to take you, “ Follow me.”

Instead of escorting you to the public bathroom, she leads you to her room. You stand awkwardly as she rummages through her drawers.

She hands you some sweatpants and a t-shirt, “ Here, you can use my bathroom. Have a shower and um if you’re tired you can sleep in here.”

“ Thanks,” you’re grateful for the offer.

Usually you’d take a long shower, but you had a sense of paranoia about you. You were in there for less than 5 minutes.

Sam’s clothes feel big on you. They smell like her and that brings you some comfort. You quickly exit the bathroom to find her bedroom empty.

You stare at the bed for a long while debating on whether if you should lay there. You decide against it, thinking about where Sam would sleep if you were to take her bed.

You grab a pillow off her bed and then lay on the hardwood floor.  Sleep wasn’t going to come easy after the day you had. So you stared up at the ceiling trying to think about anything, but the killer.

“ Why are you on the floor?”

You turn to loom at the dark haired girl, “ I thought it’d be weird to take the bed from you.”

“ We’re going to share the bed,” Sam wasn’t asking or suggesting, she was telling you what it was going to be.

She extends her hand to help you off of the floor. You hesitantly grab it and she yanks you to your feet. Her grip is much stronger than you expected.

You slip into the bed, which is ten times better than the floor. Yet, you still don’t see yourself sleeping any time soon.

“ I’m going to shower really quick and then I’ll join you, ok?”

“ Ok.”

You want to wait for Sam. When she comes out you’ll go to sleep. That’s what you convince yourself. However it was far from the truth.

 When Sam gets out of the shower and into the bed your heart rate spikes. She's so close, she smells like vanilla, her skin is ever so slightly touching yours.

“ Y/n,” she says your name gently.

“ Hm.”

She turns so her body is facing yours, “ You need to rest.”

You sigh, “ I can’t.”

“ You’re safe here.”

You shake your head, “ How can you be so sure?”

Sam grabs one of your hands. Her hands aren’t soft like you imagined. They are worked and rough, but for some reason that brings you comfort.

“ I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

“ He doesn’t want to hurt me, he wants to kill me.”

Your anxieties begin to rise again. It almost feels like you’re seeing him across the street again. He’s watching you and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“ Look at me, Y/n.”

There’s something behind her eyes. It almost scares you. It’s dark and nearly sadistic.

“ I’m not scared of Ghostface. It doesn’t matter who is behind the mask because it always ends up the same for them. Dead or in jail. I will make sure of it."

You want to ask about the first time, but you decide against it. Instead you just nod at the woman’s words. However Sam could still feel the anxiety coming out of you.

She was hesitant, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Her hand intertwined with one of yours. The feeling of her hand in yours causes you to blush. Something you hope that Sam doesn’t take notice of in the dark. She does, but she doesn't comment on it. She’s trying to process her own feelings of warmth.

You squeeze her hand lightly as a thank you and it makes her smile a bit. It’s somewhere in the softness of that moment that Sam decides she’s going to protect you no matter what it takes.

Taglist: @aiakuma @idkwhatiamdoingherebro

#lowkeyerror #samantha carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #anika kayoko #mindy meeks martin

[wren-kitchens]

i was told this is where I would start loving myself

1074 words

etho often wonders what's going on in joel's mind. a considerable amount of the time, it's because he’s just done or said something so completely bizarre that etho has to stop and recalibrate until it fits in his mind. his maniacal laughter as one of his traps goes off successfully used to make his blood run cold, but watching the way he continued to giggle about it for the next few days has, admittedly, endeared etho to it. it's just- okay, it sounds odd, but there's just something about the light in his eyes; etho would love to see what was going on behind them.

this could be better but I cannot make it better myself HKFHD this is mainly me dumping like. the vibes of a fic out i just wanted soft boat boys okay im a simple girl (gender neutral)

etho often wonders what's going on in joel's mind.

a considerable amount of the time, it's because he’s just done or said something so completely bizarre that etho has to stop and recalibrate until it fits in his mind. his maniacal laughter as one of his traps goes off successfully used to make his blood run cold, but watching the way he continued to giggle about it for the next few days has, admittedly, endeared etho to it. it's just- okay, it sounds odd, but there's just something about the light in his eyes; etho would love to see what was going on behind them.

but occasionally—and it is a very rare occasion; this is joel we're talking about here—etho is wondering because he has no idea what joel is thinking about. sometimes it's when etho says something offhand and joel takes offence until etho explains specifically what he meant. he hasn't yet figured out what the link is between everything joel was upset about—in all honesty, etho can’t remember it all. something about allies and red rage.

sometimes though, it's when joel isn't saying anything at all, when etho hasn't upset him, when joel just seems to be.. away. or- no, not exactly away. it's like.. he’s here, but there's also something else with him. like his grins and jokes are a veneer to something a little darker, a little harder to say.

etho knows it's not necessarily his fault—mainly because he's had enough awkward conversations that turned into learning something completely new about joel to know that it's usually something joel hasn't told him about yet that's weighing on his mind more than usual. interestingly enough, half of those things are good—like that time etho thought joel was mad at him only to realise that joel was too embarrassed to admit that he'd accidentally put etho's hoodie on one time and then didn’t want to take it off because it smelt like him. that was something that etho never stopped teasing him about- until joel found out that etho did the exact same thing.

in summary, etho is wondering once again, because joel is quiet. to be fair- it is the middle of the night, and quiet is kind of expected at this time, but the kind of quiet is weird.

for a little while now, the two of them have been less nervous when it comes to their affection (that isn't just making fun of each other), and so they usually sleep in each others arms—or at least close. joel, however, is currently facing the furnaces, curled in on himself and very clearly awake, and etho is a little worried. if joel is awake this late into the night, and is not being incredibly annoying about it, there is almost definitely something wrong. etho also knows that there's no way joel is going to be the one to mention it first.

"are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or am I just gonna be in permanent suspense." at etho's voice, joel startles, and etho suppresses a grin at it.

"I- there's nothing wrong." joel huffs, turning over to face etho—who raises a sceptical eyebrow. "there's nothing!"

"okay, there's nothing." etho says. "which is why you’re all the way over there, and now you’re doing that thing with your nose-"

"shut up." joel mutters, continuing to scrunch his nose up in obvious annoyance at how well etho knows him. sucker. "there is nothing wrong, okay, don’t go and psychoanalyse me."

"i'll psychoanalyse you if I want." etho says, a smile ghosting his lips. "besides, you’re easy to read."

joel snorts. "hypocrite. you rely too much on that mask, y’know."

"well, if you’re not gonna tell me, at least come over here." etho says, hoping his anxiety isn’t audible in his voice. judging by the look on joel's face, it absolutely is. "shut up."

"I didn’t say anything." joel smirks, but he shuffles towards etho, who pulls him the rest of the way. "you’re such a dork."

"yeah, you love me." etho says, half muffled through joel's hair.

there's an uncharacteristically long pause as joel buries his face in etho's shoulder. it's extremely odd for joel to be this quiet for this long, especially mid-conversation, but considering how cuddly he seems to be right now, etho has to assume it's not because he’s upset or anything, just.. thinking.

"that's.. I think that's kind of it?" joel says into etho's pyjamas.

"what, you love me?" etho says. honestly, he'd never really thought about that possibility- and immediately continues to not think about it as joel says,

"it- not romantically. but yeah." joel sounds like he’s hesitating, and etho pulls back a little to see his face. joel rolls his eyes. "it's- I sort of just realised. you are the first alliance i’ve had. like- ever. I didn’t- I never really expected how nice it'd be."

etho finds himself blinking back tears, which- okay, he considers that to be justified. "oh."

joel grins at him, and a considerable amount of anxiety seems to have dissipated from his eyes, replaced by a fondness that makes etho want to cry even more, the dick. "etho."

"shut up." etho wipes his eyes and pretends not to hear joel stifling laughter as he does so. "you- so you love me?"

joel's smugness vanishes, replaced by amusing embarrassment. "I- well. yeah." etho snorts and he huffs in exasperation. "you- okay, we don’t remember anything else, do we? so I don't remember- there's never been anyone else." his eyes widen a little as he seems to realise what he just admitted. "it- you’re the only person who.. I don’t know, cared."

etho pulls joel close again, and joel scoffs fondly as he hugs etho back. "I love you." etho mumbles into joel's hoodie, and joel's breath hitches. "what, you couldn’t tell?"

"well, I mean." joel says, a little muffled. etho smiles to himself. "I wasn't- I didn’t expect you to say it."

"i'm gonna say it all the time now." etho teases, and joel elbows him. it's not hard enough to hurt. "you do know I love you, don't you?"

"I know." joel says, and etho can practically hear his smile as he burrows further into the hug. "besides, you remind me all the time; if I didn’t know to begin with, I would after five minutes." etho scoffs fondly. "you’re a sap."

#wren writes #boat boys #trafficfic #trafficblr #double life #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #etho #ethoslab

[wittlesissyb4by]

Chapter 3

~~Click HERE for Chapter 2~~

Max hasn’t said anything today. I was up when he was getting ready for work, which is weird because I’m usually never up this early. But I guess I…wanted something to happen. I’m not exactly sure what I wanted. Last night seemed like it was a dream. 

Did I dream that? 

No. It was definitely real. I remember the taste of his cock, the taste of his cum. No dream is that vivid. No dream can make me that turned on. So I don’t know what I expected when I got up this morning, but I guess I was just hopeful for …something. Words of affirmation, a hug, a chance to suck his cock again…

Honestly just an acknowledgment of my presence would have been nice. But he didn’t even do that, just sipped his coffee while scrolling through his phone at the table. 

“Can I get you anything?” I want to say, but bite my tongue, not wanting to sound like some sort of desperate housewife. I want to address the elephant in the room, to talk about yesterday, whether or not we’re square. Did the blowjob I gave him really justify a whole month’s rent? Does he want more? Do I want more? How weird will our relationship be if we were to start some sort of strange sexual dynamic? What if it stops? What if it continues?

“Well, I’m off to work.” he says, pushing back his chair, gathering up his things and heading out the door without so much as a glance my way. 

“Okay by–” but it doesn’t even get all the way out of my mouth before the door slams shut.

Maybe he’s mad. Maybe he regrets what happened. I mean, it was his doing. He initiated it all and I just…let it happen.

Helped it happen.

I wasn’t exactly a helpless victim. It was me that was bobbing up and down on his big juicy cock by my own accord. God it tasted good. It felt good. Something I've denied myself for so long. 

I’m not gay. At least, I don’t think I am. I’ve always had an affinity for women. They are majestic, beautiful creatures. I love seeing their eyes and smiles brighten up a room. The way they laugh and can have fun and dance like no one is watching. The curve of their hips, their breasts. Their supple movements, the way they casually tuck their hair behind their ear, and bat their eyelashes. There is no doubt that they are by far the more attractive sex.

But I've always been plagued with a feeling of inferiority. Not being the biggest in the penis department has left me with anxiety that I won’t be able to perform or please them the way ‘real’ men can. I have lingering visions of women standing around, laughing at me because I have a shy bladder and can’t pee in a toilet in a timely manner. Or I take off a beautiful woman’s clothes and she laughs at the size of my dick, or is disappointed when it's not able to get hard due to my underlying fear and shame.

The combination of these phobias has most likely caused my brain to warp them into a series of fetishes. It sexualized my short-comings. I get turned on by a woman insulting the size of my penis. I get hard to the idea of them laughing at me, degrading me, humiliating me. 

My timidity when it comes to peeing in a toilet must have spawned the retention of such. ‘Since you can’t even use the toilet properly, maybe your teeny wieny is better suited for diapers instead!’ I imagine those laughing girls saying. 

All of this culminates into this whirlpool of self-doubt, and leaves me feeling like less of a man than others. Thus, I guess, is where the sissy stuff came from. Perhaps it was society’s fault. In our culture, anyone not befitting of a masculine, alpha, macho-man persona is unabashedly called a ‘sissy’. I figured out pretty early that I belonged in that category, and must have accepted it from an early age. 

Years of watching and reading porn only exacerbated my ‘problems’. I quickly learned what kind of things I enjoyed, and even found things I didn’t know I would enjoy. I was always attracted to diapers, but I didn’t know they could be combo’d with skirts and dresses. That was new. Two of my favorite things merged together in a perfect amalgamation. Combo that with a superior woman speaking to me in a humiliating, patronizing manner? Gold. Solid gold.

Then one day I found a video of a woman calling me a ‘wittle sissy baby’ and telling me she had a bottle for me. But this wasn’t just any bottle. It was a special bottle. And that’s when she brought in the giant dick that was waiting off screen.

I’ve never been attracted to men. Honestly. I’ve never looked at a man and found myself sexually attracted to them. Well, other than Ryan Reynolds, but that doesn’t count. I’m comfortable enough to tell when a man is good-looking, and can acknowledge it, but that’s usually as far as it goes. The idea of kissing, dating, or being romantic with a man does nothing for me. But the cock? Well…that’s a different story. 

I guess the inferiority complex I have with women carried over to men as well. I’m not naive enough to think I’m anything above the bottom of the totem pole. I consider myself the bottom of the societal barrel. A subservient. A willing participant to what others desire. A submissive. To anyone, regardless of sex or gender. And so, I guess my brain can’t differentiate between who it is that I’m serving. But porn quickly told me that, if you’re a sissy, you’re going to spend a lot of time serving men.

I’m not sure if it’s a deep desire I’ve held all along, or if I unknowingly Pavlov’d myself into it, but eventually the idea of being dressed up like a little diaperslut and sucking some dick became a very big fantasy of mine.

And so we circle back to Max. We’ve lived together for almost 2 years, and in that time I’ve never imagined myself with him. He’s a big, burly, ‘alpha’ male, but not even once did I fantasize about being on my knees in front of him, sucking and worshiping his cock. 

So now I’m conflicted. Did I enjoy what happened? I don’t think there’s any denying that. But I’m still hesitant. Caught in this weird limbo of right and wrong. I just got a little carried away, that’s all. I only did it because he told me to. Because I needed a place to live. If I didn’t do it, I was going to have to live on the streets. I was doing it for survival. Right?

He doesn’t say anything when he gets back from work. Just sighs in that exasperated way one does when they come home after a long day. He grabs a beer from the fridge, plops down on the couch, and turns on SportsCenter. 

I sit in the chair several feet away and act like I'm interested. “So the Bruins had the best record in the regular season?” I ask, parroting what the news anchors are saying, “and the most points in franchise history? And they still lost in the first round of the playoffs?”

He just nods absentmindedly, lounging on the couch and putting his hat over his head.

Assuming he’s about to take a nap, I stand up to leave. Heading out of the living room.

“Where are you going?” he asks abruptly beneath his cap.

“I was going to go play some games.” I reply, a bit disconcerted. 

“No you’re not.” He says simply.

“I’m not?”

“No.”

I don’t say anything for a bit, just have my mouth hanging open in confusion, so he continues.

“You’re going to put on an outfit for me.” He says, “The schoolgirl outfit will do.” He doesn’t need to clarify, but he does anyway: “The slutty one.”

My stomach drops. From fear or excitement I'm not exactly sure. “I…wh-what do–”

“Get made up for me.” He says, still talking beneath his hat, “I want you to look your best.”

******

My hands shake as I apply the last bit of mascara to my lashes. I’m not sure if I'm giddy with excitement or fear. Is this really happening? 

I usually revel in the idea of dressing up like a little slut, but no one has actually seen the finished product. What is he going to do when he sees me like this? Will he humiliate me? Laugh at me? Tease me? Fuck me?

My mind swims with the possibilities. I stand up and check myself in the mirror. I definitely look passable, maybe even fuckable. After readjusting the ‘breasts’ of my stuffed shirt, I take a little turn, watching my mini-skirt lift as I twirl.  I feel…pretty. Desirable. I just hope he agrees. There’s butterflies in my stomach and I don’t even know what’s about to happen. Maybe it’s the thrill of the unknown, but I feel ready for any possibility. 

The only thing left is to figure out what to put beneath my skirt. Should I wear a diaper? It certainly would be my first choice, but would it be his? A pair of pampers doesn’t exactly scream ‘slutty’, and I don’t want to turn him off or scare him away from whatever might take place. So I decided on a pair of skimpy boy-shorts. It only just hits me how ironic that term is. I didn’t feel like much of a boy when I wrapped them around my parts. If anything, it was like putting the final nail in the coffin that made me feel like a girl. 

One last glimpse in the mirror before I saunter off into the unknown. I open my door with trepidation, it seems to creak louder than usual. I creep through the hall, the house is eerily quiet. At first I think he’s left, some kind of cruel joke. Or maybe he’s just napping. Should I wake him if he is? How awkward would that be? Hey Max, wake up, time to see your roommate dressed like a cheap whore. 

But when I turn the corner, he’s sitting on the couch, bolt upright, a big smile on his face. 

I scrunch up as I walk in front of him, suddenly very self-conscious. Does my hair look okay? What do I say? What do I do? Luckily, he helps me. 

“Turn around.” 

I do, legs quivering. 

“All the way.”

A complete twirl. My arms stiff at my sides. 

“Relax. Give me a little curtsy.”

I feel myself loosen a bit as I grab the hem of my tiny skirt, jut my leg out, and dip shakily. 

I can feel his eyes panning me over. I feel like an object, a painting on the wall for him to admire, and I don’t exactly hate the feeling. 

“Face away from me.” He growls. His voice is a little shaky, is he nervous too? Or is it…something else?

I tiptoe around, facing the TV. It’s off, so I can see my face reflecting in the black screen. I can see him too, he’s smiling, and his hand is rubbing over the front of his pants. 

“Bend over.”

I do, hinging at the waist. I can feel the breeze hit the bottom of my cheeks as my skirt lifts, exposing my panties. 

“You have such a nice ass.”

It’s such a strange comment. Not creepy, just…something he’s never said to me before. It makes me warm inside, to be complimented in such a way. 

“Th-thank you…” I squeak awkwardly. 

“Come here.” He says. 

I turn, moseying up to him, perhaps a little too eagerly. 

“Knees.”

I drop again, the same position I was in last night. 

He’s still rubbing his pants. I can see his bulge, I can see his cock in my mind, my mouth subconsciously starts to water. 

“I’m going to be honest.” He says. “I spent all weekend masturbating to the thought of you in this outfit.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but it was oddly enticing. Someone imagining me? Using me as the object of their desires, and actually jerking off to it? I never knew that would be such a confidence boost. 

“But seeing you now, it’s even better.”

I can’t help but smile. 

“Do you like wearing it?” He asks, “Things like this?”

I look down at myself, covered from head to toe in feminine attire. The way it accentuates my curves and gives me this overwhelming feeling of joy is indescribable. But I only give a sheepish nod. “Mhmm”

“Good.” He smiles, “Because you will be dressed like this very often. If you want me to pay your rent, you are going to be my personal…what word would you like me to use? ‘Slave’? ‘Slut’? ‘Pet’? ‘Bitch’? ‘Whore’?”

“Yes.” I say, indicating I wanted to be all of them. Any word he used to describe me would suffice. 

He nods in understanding. “Every day you will do what I say, when I say. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes sir.” He corrects. 

“Yes sir.” I repeat. 

He reaches a gruff hand out, cupping my chin, rubbing a rough thumb over my cheek. It makes me feel small, subservient, obedient. Like a puppy getting patted. He slips his thumb between my glossy lips. Without even thinking, I start to suck on it. 

“How do you want to do this?” He asks, “do you want me to be gentle? Or do you prefer me to be rough and mean?”

It doesn’t take me long to think of the answer. “Rough.” I say around his thumb, then resume sucking. 

“You’re sure?” He says, eyebrows raised. “I can be quite harsh.”

I nod, bobbing my head over his thumb like it’s a cock, wishing it were a cock. “Yes sir.”

“Okay.” He shrugs, plopping his thumb from my mouth. “Our safe word will be ‘Roomie’. Use it whenever you feel I’ve gone too far.”

I nod, doubting I would ever need to do so .

He smiles, sitting back, then taps his leg. “Up.”

I’m a bit taken aback, not sure about the order, so he repeats.

“Up. Over my leg. Let’s go.”

Now I understand. I whimper as I crawl over his lap, I’m not sure if I’m just playing a part or am genuinely scared. Perhaps a bit of both. I can feel his cock pulsing in his pants as I put my own almost directly on top of it.

“Someone’s a little excited already.” He chuckles, reaching beneath my skirt to tickle my throbbing boner. He doesn’t pay it much mind though. I can feel him lifting my skirt so that my cheeks are exposed. “Look at your pretty panties.” He muses. I don’t even have time to thank him before I feel a sharp swat on my ass.

“Nnghh!” I yelp.

“You like that?” He asks sternly.

I bite my lip, ass still stinging, but nod. “Yes sir.” My voice is higher pitched, as if falling into submission has caused it to raise an octave. 

Five sharp swats, one on each cheek. I whimper with each one. I’ve never gotten a spanking before, I didn’t imagine it would hurt quite so bad. Max doesn’t seem to be holding back, but I trust him. I know this isn’t his first time. I’ve heard the same smacks and yelps coming from his room when he’s brought home a girl–or even a guy sometimes. He seems to be no stranger to a D/s relationship.

Twenty more smacks in quick succession. My ass is on fire now. Where I was embellishing a bit before, my cries of pain have become much more genuine. I grip the cushions of the couch as he shows no signs of stopping.

By 40…or is it 50? I’ve lost count. But I’m having to bite my bottom lip to keep from screaming. Finally, he stops. I can feel the heat radiating from my butt. But my reprieve is short lived, he just needed time to yank my panties down. I give some pitiful plea of “no no no, please!” as he raises his hand to begin the onslaught again.

At around 60 or 70, I’m in literal tears. 

“Do you remember your word?”

I nod, sniffling. 

“Do you want to use it?”

I clench my eyes closed at what I’m about to say, shaking my head “no sir…”

I can feel him smiling down at me. “Okay then…”

My arms are flailing and legs are kicking with every smack now. He grips the former with his non-spanking hand, and throws his leg over my floundering thighs. 

I regret every second of not using the safeword. I still consider using it, but I want to be strong. I want to impress him, as silly as it sounds. I bite my knuckle to keep myself from screaming loud enough to wake the neighbors.The leather of the couch is slick from my tears and snot. His blows aren’t as fast anymore, but they're stronger and more pronounced. Each one makes me squeal and sob pathetically. Whatever respect he had for me before has probably evaporated long ago.

After what seems like forever, the swats finally stop. I’m bawling into the cushions of the couch, and my ass feels like it’s black and blue. It’s a good thing I don’t have a job at the moment, because I doubt I would be able to sit at a desk tomorrow.

“You okay?” he asks softly. His voice has dropped that rough, hardness from before. I nod, not sure whether or not I’m lying. 

I feel him fumble for something in his pants. I hear the click of a cap, then a squirt. A cooling sensation coats my buttcheeks as he runs his hand over them with some type of lotion. Did he have that in his pocket this whole time?

Whatever it is, it feels good against my burning bum. He rubs it sensually, taking his time, being gentle despite the damage he inflicted before. 

“This is what will happen if you disobey me,” He says. I believe him, and it’s enough to make me not want to ever think about acting up. 

He squirts another dollop of lotion, but this time it’s between my cheeks. I can feel his fingers coaxing my crack open. Tracing, searching for my little button. 

“I like that you shave your pussy,” He says, “I want it to stay this way.”

I whimper, twitching as he pokes and prods at my hole. I can feel his dick stiffening in my lap as he presses his finger into me. The most pathetic moan escapes my lips before I can stop it. He plunges his finger deeper and deeper into me. I welcome every single knuckle, even press my hips backwards, hungry for more.

He chuckles again, “Such a little slut you are.”

I’m panting, like a bitch in heat. The combination of his finger and his words are driving me crazy. I’m humping backwards against his finger desperately as he presses down on my prostate. Mixed with the now dull throb of my blistered cheeks, it’s almost too much to handle. I’ve always enjoyed my pleasure spiked with pain.

He raises my hips up so that he can have access to my dangling dick underneath. “Such a teeny weeny clitty” he teases, wrapping two fingers around it. He works his hand up and down on my cock while driving his finger in me from behind. Before I know it, I feel that familiar tingle.

“Ask permission to cum.” he growls.

“Can I cum, sir?” I moan, not even bothering to try to make myself sound the least bit masculine. It’s pitchy and pathetic and desperate.

“Not yet.” He continues to work me with his masterful hands. I groan into the couch, grabbing at the cushions, his burly legs, a pillow, anything. 

“Please!” I shout, “Sir! Can I cum?! PLEASE!”

I can’t hold out any longer. It’s by some small miracle that he says “You may,” just before I explode all over his lap. A second later and it would have happened without his say-so. What would he have done if I were to cum without his permission? I loathe to find out. He shoves me down on the floor in a heap, gasping for breath. It takes me a couple minutes to collect myself. When I do, he’s still smiling down at me in a victorious sort of way.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks.

“Y-yes…sir…” I say between breaths.

“Good.” he says, “Because you have a mess to attend to.”

He points down at the gooey, white puddle I made on the crotch of his pants.

“Every load you make ends up in your mouth.” He growls, “Do you understand?”

“Yes sir…”

“Clean me up then.”

I don’t have the same eagerness as I did before. I’m a bit repulsed as I crawl between his legs and start lapping up my loser goo. But as my tongue runs over his pants I can feel the outlines of his hardening cock. I suck and slurp the mess off the hem of his pants, running my tongue through the flap of the zipper, making sure I get every last drop. He’s damp by the time I’m done, but he doesn’t seem to care.

He stands up. Again, it’s almost like nothing just happened. He goes to the cabinet, pulls out a glass, fills it up with water and takes a long swig. “Ahhh…” he exhales, looking off into the distance, then eventually back at me. “Go to my room.” He says, “I want you on my bed. Face down. Ass up.”

******

“This is my asshole now!” Max grunts, slapping my tender cheeks while he pumps his cock in and out of my rectum. “Tell me whose ass this is!”

The pillow is moist from me biting and drooling on it to keep from screaming. His dick feels amazing, but I’m not used to being pounded like this. There was only so much training I could do with my dildo…

“It’s your ass, sir!” I squeak louder than the springs of the mattress. 

“Daddy.” He growls. “Call me Daddy.”

“It’s your asshole, Daddy! It’s your asshole!”

“I own you,” he groans, “Do you understand??”

“Yes Daddy!” I really gotta get my voice under control. It gets so whiny and wimpy when I’m getting fucked.

I can feel his dick swelling, getting even stiffer than I thought possible. “I’m going to cum!” He tells me, “Where do you want me to cum?”

“In my asshole, Daddy!”

“Whose asshole?!”

“Your asshole!!” I correct. 

I can hear him laughing between the grunts, I wonder if we’ll joke about this later. It’s amazing what people say in the heat of the moment. 

“I’m gonna breed you like a little bitch!”

“Cum inside me Daddy!”

“You’re fucking miiiine!!” an exasperated groan, a warmth filling my insides, I can feel him convulse behind me as he deposits his load in my rectum. He removes his member and collapses on the bed shortly after.

I don’t know what to do at this point. What do you say to someone that just came inside of you? ‘Thanks’? I wait for him to come to, still in the doggy-style position.

He peeks an eye open. “Go to your room.” He says. “You’re not sleeping here.”

I wonder if, now that he’s lost his lust, he’s no longer interested in me. Is this how girls feel all the time? Constantly wondering whether or not they’re good enough? Worrying if they’ve done something wrong?

I climb off the bed and take the (luckily short) walk of shame back to my room, his cum leaking down my leg.

When I enter through my door, there’s a buzzing coming from my desk. Did I leave one of my vibrating toys on?

No…it’s just my phone, but it shows you where my head has been all day. The light stings my eyes as I look at it. My stomach drops a bit when I see who’s calling.

I tap the little green button.“Hello?”

“You know, Jake…” Zoey’s sweet voice says, “Part of having a girlfriend means you have to actually talk to her on the phone every once in a while!”

To Be Continued

If you're liking where this is going, and would like to read more, head on over to SubStar! My subscribers are currently reading Chapter 7!

#roomies #WSB Story #WSB Stories

[thenightfolknetwork]

I’ve been with my fiancé for over 8 years now. We’ve been friends for even longer and just last summer we had been planning our wedding ceremony. Now, his family hadn’t been the best supportively, not when he came out as gay, and especially not when he, a Sapio, started dating me, a giant. They then effectively disowned him after we announced our engagement. I think they might have had some weird hope he’d ’change his mind’ or that it was a ‘phase’. This was about 3 years ago now, and I can’t speak for my partner, but he admitted though it hurt, he was relieved to be away from them after all the abuse.

Anyway, the reason for this letter is about 7 months ago we had gotten word that his family had been in a serious accident and that his parents, sister and her husband had passed away and he was listed as next-of-kin and subsequently guardian for his 4 year old nephew.

Now, we never really talked about kids beyond some vague idea. But my partner wasn’t going to turn away the kid, nor did I expect him to. So, after the funeral service and sorting with social services, we brought his nephew home.

It has been an adjustment for all of us, getting used to having a kid around and him being in a new environment that’s more geared for my size honestly. and we’ve been trying to find a good child psychologist for him. but the main problem is… well, he’s afraid of me.

I can’t really blame him for that, after everything he went through, but it still hurts sometimes when he flinches when I enter a room or speak to him. Or how he looks ready to cry when I open my mouth. Even trying to hide when he sees me just reading a book. I’ve grown up in a mixed community, but the way the kid looks at me, for the first time in a very long time, I feel like a monster.

My partner has told me once when we were in bed that his ‘family’ had been filling the kid’s head with anti-nightfolk ideologies and even some rather… well, blood-libel comments. I think he was trying to comfort me as he noticed the way the kid had been a lot more skittish with me than with him. He has been trying to explain that a lot of the stuff his folks talked about was lies and really bad stuff, but it’s hard unlearning these sort of things. I had suggested we postpone the wedding, at least till things settle.

I have been trying to seem less ‘intimidating’, not smiling with my fangs and trying to look smaller than I really am. But I’m worried he might never not be afraid of me. And I never told my partner, but I’m afraid that he will be forced to pick between me and the kid, and I don’t want him to do that as I know either option will hurt him.

So I’m asking. Is there anything I can do to try and help seem less… monstrous to my nephew?

I'm afraid there are no quick fixes here, reader. Your nephew has been exposed to some seriously toxic ideologies from a very early age. That isn't the sort of thing you can fix over night.

I would caution against trying too hard to diminish yourself or your creaturely traits as part of this process. You want your nephew to be comfortable with you, not with a nervous caricature of yourself.

Instead, I encourage you to behave at home as normally as you can, being as friendly as he'll allow you to be and respecting his boundaries when he expresses them.

If you haven't already, talk to your partner about what your strategies are going to be to improve the situation. This is a long-term project that needs complete buy-in from both of you to succeed.

As much as possible, your partner should be exposing your nephew to the idea of difference, teaching him that it's OK to notice that other people are different than him, but that he still needs to treat them with kindness and respect.

There are so many more resources available today to help children learn about these matters, from books and films to websites dedicated to help you discuss these issues in an age-appropriate way.

Books like Paws, Claws and More, What's for Lunch? and My Daddy's A Mummy are a great way to start these conversations and to help introduce your nephew to these ideas in a way that is accessible for him. Talk to your local librarian for more recommendations.

The best way for him to learn to trust you is through spending time with you, drowning out the hateful ideas he's been taught through real, lived experience of being safe and happy in the company of people in the community. Make sure to set time aside for all three of you to spend time together, doing activities your nephew will enjoy.

Of course, his exposure to the creature community shouldn't start and end with you. If you can, consider getting him involved in mixed genus groups where he can meet liminal children his own age. It might be a bit of an adjustment for him, but it will a huge boon to him in the long run.

Finally, please consider seeking out some additional support for yourself during this process. This is a difficult, highly emotional situation, and you need to find people who you can talk to about it beyond your partner, whether that's to talk through possible solutions or just to vent occasionally.

Fortunately, reader, if there's one thing children are built for, it's learning. It will take time and emotional commitment, but with a little effort, I think you and your partner will be able to teach your nephew a kinder way of looking at the world.

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

[outerspacebisexual]

I'll Give In To You - Steve Harrington

Summary: You and Steve have been best friends for six years. It takes one drunken night to reveal your feelings and ruin everything. Or does it?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of vomit, friends to lovers (yes!yes!yes!)

a/n: if you see a mistake in this, no you didn't. friends to lovers my beloved

also, with the new tumblr guidelines, please please please interact with fics. it's harder than ever to get our works out to people, and we appreciate it so much <3

Masterlist

As two of Hawkins High’s most avid partygoers, you and Steve were expected at every party that was thrown. And cheer captain Rachel Bilson’s party was no different.

“Did you see this?” you asked Steve as you took your seat next to him at lunch.

He took the flyer from your hands, eyes trailing over the date and time for the ‘April Fools’ party. “I heard about it from Carol,” he replied, scrunching it up before you could take it back from him. “People will use anything for an excuse to throw a party.”

You scoffed. “As if you care, Mister Keg King.”

He shot you a sly grin, paired with a wink. You rolled your eyes, even as the heat pooled in your stomach. “Anyway,” he said, “we need to be thinking about my party. It’s less than a month away and we haven’t organised anything.”

You raised a brow. “Why am I suddenly helping you plan your own party?”

“Because you’re my best friend and you know I can’t plan to save my life.” His puppy dog eyes were big and bright, and you fought against the smile already forming.

“What will you give me in return?”

He tapped his fingers on the table, as if deep in thought. “How about a ride to school every day this month?”

“You already pick me up most mornings.”

“Sure, but how about every day?”

You shot him a look, but agreed. In truth, he didn’t have to give you anything, which he knew. You would do anything for him, including plan his birthday party, for free. It was one of the downsides to being in love with your best friend.

You and Steve had been friends for six years, best friends for five of them. And just like every cliché, you had fallen in love with him. And God, it was the worst thing you had ever done. Because it meant that you were subjected to watching him go out with other people while you watched on from the sidelines like a loser.

It was pathetic, really, but you had managed to hide your feelings from him for years successfully. Senior year would be no different.

“Do you have basketball practice this afternoon?” you asked him around a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, last period. I can still drive you home.”

You nodded in thanks. “What’s happening about—” You cut yourself off when you noticed that Steve’s eyes were on the doors of the cafeteria. On Nancy Wheeler. The heat in your stomach turned to ice. “Steve,” you said, bringing his attention back to you. “What’s up with you and Nancy?”

His eyes shot back to you. “What?”

You gestured with your head to the girl. “What’s up with you and her?”

Steve and Nancy had been spending more time together recently, which was no secret to you and the rest of Hawkins High. It was a weird pairing if you were honest, not that you would ever tell Steve that.

“Nothing,” he rushed. “We’re just lab partners. She’s having a hard time with her parents or something lately.”

The way he scrambled for an excuse wasn’t all that convincing, but you let it go. “Right.” Your appetite was suddenly gone, and you pushed your tray away.

Steve noticed, but didn’t say anything, pushing it back towards you without a word. “Now, about my party.”

You rolled your eyes again. If there was one thing Steve was good at, it was changing the subject.

+

Like Steve said, the sound of sweaty teenage boys running around was loud enough that you could hear it from outside the gymnasium.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder as you made your way towards it. You had elected to skip out on last period. Mrs. Click wouldn’t even notice. Plus, reading in the bleachers was always preferable to learning history for an exam that wouldn’t mean anything after graduation.

Opening the doors to the gym, you found the team in the middle of a practice game.

You waved at the coach, who at this point, was used to you sitting in on his lessons. He was fine with it, so long as you didn’t say anything or disturb his class. He was on some power trip about ensuring that the team made the finals this year. Something that Steve was sure wasn’t going to happen.

Steve caught sight of you as you made yourself comfortable towards the back of the bleachers, already pulling out a book from your backpack. He gave a nod in greeting, and you smiled back at him.

He was sweaty beyond belief, the spring air already humid enough to cause a breakout of sweat if you even thought about doing anything strenuous.

You sat in silence for the majority of the lesson, only looking up when you heard the doors open again. When you did, you thought you must have been hallucinating, because Nancy Wheeler was standing at the entrance.

You watched as Steve excused himself from practice to go over to her. Their words were hushed, not audible over the team’s shouting, no matter how hard you tried to listen.

She looked upset, that much you could tell, and Steve comforted her as she sniffled.

The bell rang out through the gym, and you shoved your book into your bag, taking the steps two at a time. You were nothing if not nosy, so you were disappointed when you got to Steve right as Nancy exited the doors and headed out into the parking lot.

You clapped your hand on Steve’s shoulder, before immediately pulling it back when it came away sweaty. You made a face and wiped it on your pants. “Gross. What was that about?”

He chuckled as he watched you. “Nothing. She’s just having a hard time with her parents and her brother.”

“So you said,” you replied dryly.

“I’m actually going to drive her home today,” he admitted. “She’ll be out by the car if you wanted to wait for me out there.”

Your stomach soured instantly. “It’s all good. I’m catching a lift with Riley,” you lied. Steve’s eyes shot from you to Riley, who was making his way to the locker room with the other guys. You prayed that Riley would give you a lift home. You two were friends enough that it shouldn’t be a problem, but on the off chance he couldn’t—home was a long way to walk.

Still, it was better than riding with Steve and Nancy.

“Oh, OK,” was all Steve said, his eyes returning to you.

You sent him a smile that he returned, even if his was a little strained. You chalked that up to Nancy waiting for him.

You started to walk away when he called to you. “Hey, I have something for you,” he said, gesturing for you to hold out your hand. You shot him a confused look, but held it out anyway.

He grabbed your wrist faster than you could move and ran your hand over his sweaty hair.

You ripped it out of his grasp and shoved him. “Yuck, Steve. What the fuck?”

He only laughed as he jogged to the locker rooms, leaving you standing there shouting after him.

+

It turned out that Rachel’s ‘April Fools’ party was just a normal party that happened to be the weekend after April Fools. You hadn’t expected anything more than that.

As always, Steve was the Keg King, and you could only watch on as the others held him upside down.

You had spent the majority of the night by his side like normal, downing your fair share of alcohol until the room started spinning and your feet no longer felt like they were your own.

You laughed at something Steve said as the two of you stood in the kitchen, surrounded by a few members of the basketball team. If you were honest, you weren’t even sure what was funny.

“Hey guys, I’ll be back,” Steve said suddenly, and he was disappearing through the crowd of people towards the front door.

You peered over the heads of the people in the living room to see Nancy Wheeler and Barbara Holland entering the house. You raised a brow as you watched Steve give them each a side hug. To say you were surprised to see them at a party was an understatement.

Barbara was nice, and you shared a class with her last year, but a party was not her scene. You imagined that Nancy was the same.

“What’s up with you?” Riley asked from beside you.

You turned your attention to him, his face blurring and swirling the more you tried to focus on it. “Nothing,” you mumbled. “I’m just surprised to see Nancy here.”

“See Nancy here, or see Nancy with Steve?”

You shot him a look that probably seemed a lot more intimidating in your head. “Hey, I don’t need you interfering in my life,” you slurred, stumbling over the word ‘interfering’.

“Right,” he drawled, his teasing smile making you want to be anywhere but beside him.

He hadn’t left you alone about it since you cornered him that afternoon a week ago and begged him for a ride home. He had agreed on the condition that you tell him why you needed one when Steve had only left five minutes before.

You lied for the most part, but he saw straight through it.

“I’m getting another drink,” you muttered, and he only nodded and turned back to the conversation.

You pushed through the crowd, saying hello to a few people as you tried to find Steve’s cooler with your drinks.

After five minutes of looking, you gave up, choosing instead to grab a beer from a random cooler.

You popped the cap, but as soon as the smell hit your nostrils, bile was rising in your throat. You stood completely still, hoping that the nausea would pass, but it only grew until you were shoving past people in search of the bathroom.

Luckily, the door was ajar, and you slammed it shut and collapsed in front of the toilet just in time.

Once you were sure that you’d gotten everything out of your system, you stood, washing your mouth out and staring at yourself in the mirror.

You still looked fine, aside from the spaced-out drunk look in your eyes.

Picking up the beer you’d left on the counter, you swigged it, the burn from the alcohol cancelling out the burn from the vomit.

There was a knock on the door, and you shouted ‘come in’ before you even thought about the fact that you were in a random bathroom and it wasn’t usually a shared space.

Fortunately for you, it was Steve. “Hey, Riley said he saw you rushing in here.”

You stumbled as you leaned against the counter. “I just felt a little sick,” you explained, gesturing to the toilet.

“Ah. You feeling better?”

You giggled. At what you didn’t know. Maybe at the way he looked so pretty tonight. Then you remembered where he had been. You took another swig from your beer. “Why aren’t you with Nancy?”

Steve glanced between you and the beer in your hand. “Where’d you get that? That’s not ours.”

He tried to take it from you, but you pulled out of his reach. “Where’s Nancy?”

“I don’t know. With Barb outside probably,” he said, finally succeeding in wrangling the bottle from you. He sniffed it. “Did someone give this to you? And why are you so caught up with Nancy?”

You scoffed, ignoring the first question. “Because you’re always with Nancy now,” you slurred. “It’s Nancy this and Nancy that. So, why aren’t you with her now?”

Steve righted you when you leaned a little too far back. “Because I’d rather be with you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed in an exaggerated manor, all drunken foolishness. “You don’t mean that, Stevie. You would choose Nancy over me, and that’s OK!” You patted his chest. “It’s OK that you choose her. She’s nice.”

If Steve was confused before, he was completely and utterly lost now. “What are you talking about? You’re my best friend.”

You let out a broken sound, something between a laugh and a scoff. “I know. That’s the worst part. Because you don’t even realise just how much it hurts to be around you when I love you.”

Steve went rigid beneath you, his chest halting as he held his breath.

The two of you stood there, suspended in time.

“What?” he asked after a moment.

As he said it, the music died out and you stood up straight, the drunken cloud of fog floating away quicker than ever before.

You had not just said that out loud. But from the crinkle between Steve’s brows and the confused look on his face, you most definitely had.

You pulled away from him, brushing past him before he could stop you. He still tried, but you were faster, slipping out of his reach and racing through the crowd of people.

You couldn’t hear Steve behind you, but it was hard to hear anything over the music blaring and your blood thrumming in your ears.

Riley was where you’d left him, and for the second time in a week, you were begging him for a ride home. He looked concerned at first, but agreed when you threatened to take his keys and drive home yourself.

You didn’t see Steve before you left.

You didn’t even try and find him.

You didn’t want to do anything except get home and cry.

Which was exactly what you did.

+

You drove to school on Monday morning, despite the fact that Steve had promised to drive you every day this month.

After spending most of Saturday night and all of Sunday moping around and crying at your utter stupidity, you had to face school.

You were sitting in your first period English, the seat next to you that Steve normally sat in empty. At first, you were hopeful that maybe he’d skipped first period, which was the only class that you shared with him on Monday.

Your hopes were crushed, however, when Steve came bumbling into the room five minutes late.

He dropped into the seat beside you, and you could feel the heat behind your cheeks as you kept your eyes averted.

“You drove to school,” he said after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” you replied, still not looking at him.

He was silent again. “I waited for you.”

The guilt stabbed your heart until it was nothing more than a deformed pin cushion. “Sorry,” you said, and you really meant it. “I should have told you I was driving this week.”

“This week?” He was surprised, and he said it a lot louder than he meant to because the teacher was quick to shush him. He continued, quieter, “You’re driving this whole week?”

You nodded and dared a glance at him. “Yeah. My dad said I need to drive my car more or he’ll sell it.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was far from the truth. The truth that you couldn’t face the consequences to your dumb actions.

“Right,” he replied, and he slumped back in his seat, fumbling with his pen.

+

The next few weeks went by in an awkward dance of you and Steve trying to act normal and failing spectacularly.

You managed to avoid him for the most part, which was more painful than you thought it would be. You hadn’t spent a day without him on purpose for years. And now you were doing it most days.

Maybe what hurt the most was that Steve wasn’t acting like nothing happened. It was worse. He was acting like you were some ticking timebomb that would fall apart if he looked at you for a second too long.

Which just made everything ten times harder to pretend like nothing happened.

You spent lunch in the library half the time, where you by chance ran into Barbara Holland.

She sat opposite you at the table you’d found in the back of the room. “Hi,” she greeted.

“Barb.” You blinked. You hadn’t seen her since catching sight of her at the party two weeks ago. It had been probably six months since you’d spoken to her. “Hey.”

She pulled some books and pens from her backpack, setting up for studying what looked like science. “This science project is killing me,” she said. “How are you getting through it?”

“Uh, I’m just doing some extra reading on the topic. I’m not in Mr. Hilton’s class, so I’m not partnered with anyone.”

Barb nodded. “Yeah, I’m not either. I think he’s only partnering people because it’s a senior-slash-junior class.”

“Yeah, probably.” You weren’t quite sure what to say after that. It was weird enough that Barb was sitting in front of you in the first place, let alone that you were making small talk about a science project.

“Nancy and Steve are partnered together,” Barb said, breaking the silence.

You looked back at her, brows raised. “I know.” Your answer was snappier than you meant it to be.

Barb studied you for a long moment. “He’s being a really good friend to her. Her dad has been giving her a hard time recently, and Steve knows all about that, so he’s been helping her out.”

“Cool,” you replied.

Barb went quiet again, and you turned back to your work.

“Steve’s birthday is next week,” she said.

You sighed. “I know when my best friend’s birthday is, Barb.”

If she clocked how grating she was being, she didn’t care. “He’s still having the party that you guys planned.”

You narrowed your eyes. You knew exactly where she was going with this little spiel.

She was trying to gauge if you were going to Steve’s party. It was no secret that you had pulled away from the senior festivities in the past few weeks. You hadn’t attended many parties or skipped classes for fun like you used to. The idea of getting drunk and admitting something even more mortifying while under the influence was terrifying.

You weren’t sure if Barb had come of her own accord, or if Steve had put her up to it. Or worse yet, if Nancy had done it.

You suddenly had no desire to talk to Barb, and you packed your notebook and textbook into your bag. “Thanks, Barb,” was all you said as you left the library.

+

Steve’s leg bounced up and down as he sat on his couch, surveying the surrounding partygoers. It was his usual crowd—the entire senior class of Hawkins High, along with a few sophomores and juniors that somehow snagged an invite.

His eyes drifted over the people he’d known his entire life, all standing in his house. He should be grateful that this many people knew him and wanted to come to his party. Instead, he was clinging to his couch and searching the faceless throng of people for the one person he really wanted to see.

The one person that his life had unknowingly revolved around until three weeks ago.

He gripped his beer bottle tighter.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and for a split second, it was you. It was your hand on his shoulder, a sly comment falling from your mouth before he even turned to look at you.

It was you. Until it wasn’t, and the hope in his chest dwindled as the image of you was replaced with a guy from his science class, wishing him a happy birthday and congratulating him on the great party.

He thanked him lamely, the bottle in his hands suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

You didn’t come to parties anymore.

He took a can from someone as they passed him, shouting ‘happy birthday’ over the pounding music.

It was his party after all. It was his birthday. He should be enjoying himself. He should have finished the lukewarm beer in his hands twenty minutes ago. He should be shot gunning the can in his hands with the rest of the basketball team by the pool.

His heart started to race.

He should be doing any number of things with any number of people.

But the only place he wanted to be was with you.

He was standing before he could stop himself.

The guy from earlier was by the door when he grabbed his keys. “Hey, where are you going, man?”

“Out,” was all Steve replied, only vaguely aware of the guy shouting that he couldn’t leave his own party.

He didn’t care about leaving his house in the hands of a bunch of high schoolers.

He only cared about getting to you.

+

You stared blankly at the perfectly wrapped gift box sitting on your dresser.

It was teasing you.

You didn’t know how, but it was.

Maybe with the promise of everything being all right if you just got the guts to go give it to Steve. It didn’t matter that he was having a party. You were still his best friend, you still had more right than anyone else to be at his place.

Plus, you had helped organise the party to begin with. If anything, you should be pride of place next to Steve.

But you weren’t.

The prospect of talking to Steve after your mortifying ordeal was almost too much to bear. You had managed to keep your stupid feelings to yourself for years and suddenly a few too many drinks and a random bathroom was what sent you over the edge.

It was humiliating.

You groaned and collapsed onto your back on your bed, covering your eyes with your arm.

Even without looking at it, the present was burned into the back of your eyelids. The worst part was, you knew that he would love it.

He’d get that goofy look on his face as he pulled the lid off, and he wouldn’t even bother to suppress the laughter that would burst from him. He would throw his arms around you without a second thought, and you would burn from head to toe at his touch while you pretended to be nonchalant about the gift, lying through your teeth about how you’d forgotten his birthday. You’d lie, despite the fact that it had taken almost six months and plenty of tears to make.

You’d pretend, just like you always did.

Normally, you and Steve would be so drunk by now that you’d collapse into his bed and he’d fall to the floor in a heap, yanking his pillow from beneath your head, ignoring your objections.

But now, you were holed up in your room ignoring that you wanted to be with him.

Each minute that ticked by was spend volleying between two thoughts: ‘I should go and see him’ and ‘I need the ground to open up and swallow me whole’.

After ten agonising minutes of going back and forth, you stood.

Steve was still your best friend. And he would never not see you on your birthday.

Your eyes found the gift again. It sat completely still, completely unmoving. You stared at it. It stared back.

“Fuck it,” you mumbled, and you were getting dressed before you could convince yourself this was a terrible idea.

+

The route to your house was second nature to Steve by this point.

Six years of biking, and then driving, between your place and his had the turns seared into his brain. He could get there blindfolded.

He hadn’t even bothered to turn on the radio. The silence was somehow comforting. It was neutral. It didn’t tell him that this was either the stupidest thing he’d ever done or that it was the best thing he would ever do.

Only his mind told him that. Each thought took up equal space as he drove, swinging up and down and around and around like unbalanced scales.

Your driveway came into view. The only car parked out front was your own, no sign of your parents’ cars. He didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

He pulled in behind your car and cut the engine.

Through your window, he could see your bedroom light was on, the light curling from beneath the curtains. You were probably in there right now, curled up in bed reading one of your countless novels that he could never keep up with. You were always one to forgo sleep for the next chapter.

He chewed on his bottom lip as he sat there in the darkness, just watching. He heaved in a breath and screwed his eyes shut.

It was his birthday, and even though he didn’t have a cake or candles, he still had a wish.

A wish that he cashed in as he sat in his car in your driveway.

+

In your haste to get semi-presentable for a party, you couldn’t hear anything over your laboured breathing.

You threw on a jacket, and after scanning your appearance in the mirror, you gave up on trying to be anything other than the weird mess that you had become. It didn’t matter anyway. You were just going to see Steve and give him his gift, and then you were coming back home.

The gift was just where you’d left it, just as intense in its silent stare. It was a box, you thought darkly, how could it even have a stare?

Before taking it from your dresser, you opened the lid, peeking inside just to make sure it was still in there.

It was.

The jacket you’d made and sewed yourself staring back at you. From the way you’d folded it, the embroidery on the left-hand side was visible. Harrington’s Baby-Sitting Service in lettering so small you could barely make it out. The lettering colour was the same as the jacket material, so no one would notice it unless it was pointed out.

What wasn’t visible from the way it was sitting, was the other embroidery on the inside of the right cuff: your name.

In even smaller lettering, it wasn’t visible at all unless you ran your fingers over it and felt that it was there.

You slammed the lid back down and took it under your arm.

It was too late to back out now.

Descending the stairs, you were surprised to find your keys exactly where they should be. It was like your earlier self had been preparing for this moment.

Gripping your keys in one hand and clutching the present tighter beneath your arm, you yanked your front door open.

+

The gravel crunched under foot as Steve made his way to your front door.

Once he was in front of it, he hesitated.

What if you didn’t want to see him? What if he knocked and you didn’t answer? What if he knocked and you did answer?

What was he even going to say?

He hadn’t organised a speech on the drive over. He had a full fifteen minutes, and he wasted them on his own pitiful thoughts instead of preparing a speech.

Maybe he could go back to his car and work on one, and then come back and try it again.

But before he got the chance, the outside light flicked on, and he was left standing—completely frozen—inches from the door as it was reefed open from the inside.

+

You faltered, eyes widening as you registered that Steve was standing on the threshold of your house.

“Steve,” you breathed.

He looked just as shocked to see you standing there. “Y/N,” he replied, voice shaky.

You blinked at him, a million thoughts racing through your head. The first being: ‘Why aren’t you at your party?’ And the second: “What are you doing here?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I—uh—I came to see you.”

“Oh,” was all you managed.

His eyes went from your face to your outfit to the gift under your arm. “Were you…were you coming to see me?”

You would have to be blind to miss the hopefulness behind his words and in his eyes. You shuffled and pulled the box from under your arm. Holding it in front of him now, it felt stupid. “Yeah,” you said finally. “I was going to give it to you at your party.”

“You’re going to the party?” he asked, a glimmer of surprise flicking across his face. “I didn’t think you wanted to come.”

“I don’t,” you mumbled, and you caught the way his shoulders deflated. “But I wanted to see you. It’s still your birthday, Steve.”

He nodded, swallowing harshly as an awkward silence descended over the two of you. He didn’t move to come in, even when you invited him in.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot as his eyes darted around wildly. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, and you paused from where you were dropping your keys into the bowl by the door. You placed the gift on the table and turned to look at him as he continued, “I’m sorry for not talking to you. I just thought…I thought that you wanted space. From everything. From me.”

You didn’t tell him that that was exactly the opposite of what you wanted.

“I wanted so badly to talk to you about it, but Nancy said that you probably didn’t want that. She said that you would see me when you were ready.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of Nancy. Of course he would go to Nancy Wheeler for help with his problems. It also didn’t help that she was right, sort of. “Steve, it’s all right, really. I was—”

“No,” he cut you off. “It’s not all right. I—I shouldn’t have let you walk out of that bathroom. I should have chased you down.”

“Steve—”

He held up a hand. “Just…Just let me finish, please.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it after a moment, nodding for him to keep going.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. “When you said what you said in that bathroom, I was surprised. Not about what you said, but about how blind I’d been. Because you…I’ve been in love with you since freshman year.”

You froze, your heart thumping hard against your ribcage.

His eyes were trained on the floor, the words tumbling from his mouth. “And I told myself for years that it didn’t matter because I didn’t want to ruin anything. Because I was happy if I just got to be your friend. And then that night, I was worried that you didn’t mean it.” His voice broke, and it took everything in you to not reach out and hug him. “I thought that maybe you were just drunk and saying things you didn’t mean. And if that was true, if you really didn’t mean it, then I couldn’t risk saying it to you and having things become weird between us.”

When he finally looked at you, his eyes were lined with tears. Your own suddenly burned.

“But then things got weird anyway. And it felt like my fault. Because I couldn’t look at you without hearing what you said.”

“Steve,” you began, but you couldn’t work out where to start. “What about Nancy?”

He blinked. Then blinked again. “What about Nancy?”

You floundered. “Aren’t the two of you…?”

“Nancy?” he barked. “No. Nancy is a friend. She’s nice and all, but…”

“But what?”

His eyes found yours again. “But she’s not you.”

You stared at him. There was a tender vulnerability in his eyes, one that you had rarely seen from him. You had no doubt that yours reflected your own. A tear slipped from your eye, and Steve was stepping towards you before you could wipe it away.

He took your face in his hands, so gently that his fingers felt like little more than a whisper across your skin. He swiped the tear from your cheek. He was so close. “Steve,” you breathed.

“Y/N,” he murmured back, just as quiet.

Your eyes flickered between his, and when his own dipped to your lips, your breath hitched.

The space between you was infinitely large, but Steve made the leap anyway.

And as his lips pressed to yours, the world fell away into nothing but the two of you in this moment that had been building for six years.

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things one shot #steve harrington one shot #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff

[aqours]

ok i REAAAAAALLY need to make a dedicated sideblog for this shit now i realize bc this game is gonna fucking fully get me dragged into this discourse so i'm gonna make an active effort to stop putting these on main, but i can't see myself saying more beyond this in general but ANYWAAAAYS

so i recently made this post about the cognitive dissonance regarding this game and people using fucking CALL OF DUTY a game that is more or less a recruitment drive to make the US military look cool and try to get kids to join up and that GTA's wanted system is actually NOT rewarding you or something to try to play a dick measuring contest with coffin but this interaction really interested me and i wanna talk about it bc i just blocked them after they refused to answer the last question but this is a very specific kind of gaslighting tactic i'm very familiar with from my own days as an anti

i think p much all of us who are used to engaging with this discourse are used to like y'know, being called awful horrible disgusting things. this is not the first time some fucking weird random person came onto my content asking me if i was a kid didler or wanted to fuck my brother. ain't gonna be anywhere near the last time either folks, but i and Lord God knows that's not the case so i don't care what a rando on the internet says but here's the thing: you can't "win" this, but they want to win it. no matter what you say you are the absolute worst kind of dreg of society that should be shot behind a barn and no amount of anything would work. if i actually pulled a list of sourced all that would have happened was they would've doubled down on calling me an inc*s*ious p*d* that I would be willing to use articles probably written by "people like me." because YOU don't care about "winning" this argument, you just wanna get the facts out on your end. it's a catch-22 folks, nothing you say will get you out of it!

i started by calling them a karen, they immediately escalated the living FUCK out of it and tried to trap me in this catch-22 to keep feeling morally superior to me. me saying i don't have such desires and never will isn't enough because i like this game. nothing but me renouncing it will change it.

but here's the thing about antis- they fucking HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE it when you turn it on them. look at the difference. look at the difference between they were the one throwing the catch-22 at me vs. the other way around. what about you? you just came onto my post to harass me, so i'll say it back. how about you? are you just accusing me of these horrible things because you are projecting your thoughts on me? you told me to get a therapist: so maybe you're the one that needs help if so!

violent video games must encourage violence, riiiiight? and you support it because it's violent. Game of Thrones had in*e*t in it so everyone who likes it also is the same. and Demon Slayer, where the pfp is from is violent, so you support it. the main protag's little sister also gets a superpowered form where she gets physically older and a tits out kinda look. so clearly YOU want to see your sister in the same way, right?

and it went as expected. you can see the tone going from smug jerking off with a shit-eating grin to just annoyed while smelling their own farts like it's a rose. and the moment i started doing the same uh i got NO fucking answers and they stormed off. i waited half an hour for a response before blocking them

so why am i typing up this walltext? because i used to be an anti. i fucking guarantee you i would've called everyone who liked this game [insert horrible things] like 7-9 years ago. so let me tell you, you know what pisses off antis more than anything? more than ANYTHING? turning this catch-22 bullshit on them. this is the only way you can end this miserable conversation without blocking them.

it's all one-sided bullshit and the moment you turn it on an anti it IMMEDIATLY shuts it down. this fucker KNEW the answer and you know it. so i wanted to share that, if you ever struggle with this shit: well the best thing you can do is block them and to give a fuck about winning their imaginary argument, but this is the only way to make the headache end otherwise. just throw the catch-22 right back and that's the end. thanks for reading!

#starposts #the coffin of andy and leyley #coffin of andy and leyley #proship #comship #long post #anti anti #discourse cw #ok i REALLY do want this shit off my main blog though i'm gonna start using a sideblog probably

[avactors]

Interview transcript 1: AvA 6 trailer - Victim

Interviewer: "Animator vs Animation 6 finally released its trailer and it sent shock waves throughout the internet as no one was expecting to see a return of the star of the first movie."

Interviewer: "So today, i am extremely honoured to welcome in the studio the star himself - [Victim], starring as Victim in AvA series!"

Victim: "Well, a star might be an overstatement, but it is nice to see the franchise in such a good state even after so many years." [Chuckle]

Interviewer: "Also, before we start, i would like to thank you for accepting our invitation. You are known to be quite secritive, so it's an extreme honour to be among the first ones to get to interview you."

Victim: "Oh, the pleasure is mine. But, i will have to admit, it's less of me being oh so secritive and more of just inability to partake in any interviews. Now that i am back in the franchise, i am looking forward to building a connection with the audience on the same level as my colleagues."

Interviewer: "Well, i believe it might be a bit hard, considering that trailer portayed you as the villain, rather than a hero."

Victim: [laugh] "Well, Victim did change a lot since his last appearance on screen, i can say that much."

Victim: "What i mean is that there will be quite a few unexpected turns in the movie and i am really looking forward to sharing it with everyone!"

Interviewer: "And we can't wait to see what the crew have brought us this time."

Interviewer: "But the most interesting question, that had been puzzling everyone for many years is why did you disappear from the franchise in the first place? Many fans waited for Victim's return in the second movie, but had to wait until 4 have passed."

Victim: "I can't share all the details, obviously, but what i can say is that, there was no falling out between me and the producers, as many like to suggest. Me and Alan were always great friends and are still such. I wasn't forced to leave, i simply had... My own reasons. And for the longest time i had no way of coming back on screen."

Interviewer: "Well, it seems that know the stars had finally alligned for your comeback. Which beggs the question: are you happy to be back in the spotlight?"

Victim: "Oh you have no idea! In that sense me and Victim share our anticipation to finally make an appearance after so long! Working with the AvA crew is always a pleasure."

Interviewer: [laugh] "And fans certainly share this feeling. AvA 6 so far is believed to be the most anticipated movie of the year, with hundreds of thousands pre-ordering tickets already."

Interviewer: "But what about everyone else? In the trailer we also saw The Chosen One, Victim's successor as the series lead as well as The Second Coming, who is the current face of the franchise. Having all three generations in one place sure is an extremely interesting concept, but how was your experience on the set? Other interviews suggest that [Second] might be a handful to deal with."

Victim: "Oh, please, [Second] may be a teen, but he is in no way a handful, especially when [Chosen] is around. He seems to posess this weird power to just calm him down almost instantly." [Laugh]

Victim: "But, answering your question, i very much enjoyed the time we spent on set. They both are very fun as people and are extremely competent as actors. But, i guess i'm not really the one to judge, given both of them have more experience than me. If anything, i was a bother to them." [Chuckle]

Interviewer: "Well we certainly hope not, because i'm pretty sure that all the fans would want to see more of Victim in future installments as well."

Victim: "And i certainly hope to appear more as well. I'm sorry i'm repeating myself, but i was just so excited to start working with Alan and his crew again, and get to meet all the other actors as well."

Interviewer: "But how did they react to see you come to the set? I believe that at least two of the so called "Colour Gang" have mentioned that they have been fans of the franchise ever since it's first installment."

Victim: [laugh] "Well, the first meeting was perhaps the hardest part of working on AvA again. Nothing could've prepared me to the amount of attention i got from [Second] and his friends. It almost felt like i was at a fan meet-up."

Victim: "But, i will admit, seeing how excited they were to see me on set, really warmed my heart. All the harder it was to act cruel towards them during the shooting. And it wasn't made any easier by their burning eyes just staring at me during some of the scenes."

Victim: "At some i kept breaking the character after noticing their gaze on me so much, that Alan had to intervene and get them off set. Poor kids, but at least then i managed to focus on the acting." [Laugh]

Interviewer: "You mentioned having to act cruel during the shooting and we also noticed a glimpse of it in the trailer. Will that really be such a prevalent part of the upcoming movie?"

Victim: "Oh, actually, you might've already noticed it, but AvA is slowly shifting towards more mature themes and deeper stories. Alan said that it's because the audience had grown up and they wouldn't be satisfied with old style anymore."

Victim: "Personally, i share his sentiment. I do prefer more mature take on the franchise, but still being able to keep what makes it so appealing in the first place."

Interviewer: "Well that sounds promising. Can't wait for when the movie comes out and sure hope you and others will be willing to visit our studio in the future as well."

Victim: "And i can't wait to discuss events of the movie more freely. Although, right now actual events are carefully hidden even from me. So we will have to wait for the premiere."

Victim: "It's been a pleasure talking to you and sharing my thoughts with all of the viewers. I will see you all in theatres!"

#animation vs animator #ava #alan becker #ava au #au #writing #ava6 #avas3 #ava season 3 #avactors #actor au

[kaondecay]

a couple little vol 7 thoughts featuring vashwood brainrot 😎✌️

man this scene makes my brain itch on so many different levels lmao, like on the surface level wtf wolfwood!! we’ve just had all these chapters explicitly digging into how vash has a Problem where he tries to hide his pain under empty smiles- and in fact wolfwood clocked that about him pretty much instantly back when they first met! so of course badgering him about ~looking sad~ (especially when he started the page with a neutral to mildly glum expression) is just gonna make him try harder to cover it up, and that’s exactly what he does with that stupid little smile on the second page 😔

but wolfwood’s whole point here is that that shit isn’t gonna work on him no matter how hard vash tries! unfortunately wolfwood is also emotionally constipated as hell, so it comes out as aggression and teasing rather than anything genuine.

actually i just gotta revisit that earlier moment here because the contrast is just fascinating lmao

like goddamn wolfwood really came in hot with the sincerity in that first meeting, how did we go from that to this?? was it just because they were strangers then, and wolfwood thought he could get away with saying shit like that because their paths might never cross again? this was also before ww got his assignment from Knives- did he not know this was the boss’s brother? he probably didn’t realize the twins’ inhumanity at that point either… he’s had a lot to grapple with over the course of this assignment, both re: the twins’ apocalyptic power, and the fact that he has to betray vash at the end of it, that would naturally create a need for emotional distance. allowing honesty and attachment with vash puts too much at risk.

so really, given that very high-stakes need for distance, it’s telling that wolfwood still can’t help expressing his awareness of vash’s suffering & investment in cheering him up, even if it comes out in such a ridiculous way lol

it also seems like a clumsy/oblique way of trying to reassure vash that he’s still a person? vash’s inhuman nature has come more to the forefront lately- losing control in the dragon’s nest, regaining the memory of all the death he caused in july, catching that bullet with a feather only for the whole town to turn against him for it- and it’s clearly been weighing on him. so wolfwood acknowledges that angle by calling him all those awful things- “the legendary devil gunman, the humanoid typhoon”- but immediately discredits them by pointing out vash’s softheartedness.

idk i also have one more little bit of brainrot about the moment they share leaving the bar, acknowledging that things are about to get serious with Knives

like goddamn there’s so much meaning packed into that exchange!! it’s the closest they really come to acknowledging their whole “you know i know you know” deal around wolfwood’s assignment. (hah, “i told you from the start…”, fuck. ) like, openly telling vash that knives sent him would break the plausible deniability that wolfwood is simply fulfilling his mission, and that would put the orphanage in danger. at the same time, he has been 0% subtle and never actually *lied* to vash about it either- the few times vash has asked direct questions, wolfwood has given him vague answers or conspicuous silence and allowed him to draw his own conclusions.

so this seems like their weird twisty way of setting mutual expectations for what’s going to happen next. wolfwood is vash’s “guide”, no more and no less- he has enough insider information to bring vash safely to his brother’s door, but past that point wolfwood will stay out of the confrontation. it’s the one thing wolfwood and both brothers all agree is best, whether they like it or not. god wolfwood’s face in that last panel kills me

i am absolutely normal about this

#trigunbookclub #trigun #trigun maximum #vashwood #hhhhhhhhhhhh losing my goddamn mind abt these 2

[greazyfloz]

Luke Hughes fluff 12 plz 🙏

Fluff: 12. “I didn’t want to fall in love, but you make it hard not to” w/ Luke Hughes

Friends Don't

I’ve known Luke since he played for the NDTP. I had a crush on him but was friendzoned almost immediately. We became closer when we both ran into each other again during frosh week at Michigan. Since we became best friends. It’s weird to go a day let alone a couple hours without texting him, but today was different. Actually this whole week was different. 

Luke has been off and on with me all week. I think in the past 4 days I have probably received about 5 texts from him. I would see him tonight at a party at Nolan’s that Mackie told me to go to. As I am getting ready I send Luke a text asking if we could go together or meet up. I didn’t hear anything by the time I was done getting ready so I decided to head out myself.

I arrive to the party and make my way over to Mackie. Mackie was standing with Eddy and Mark and no sign of Luke. I am tempted to ask the boys but bite my tongue and just nod along to whatever they are talking about. 

After about 30 minutes I decide to go get myself a new drink so I made my way to the kitchen. As I was refilling my drink an attractive guy from one of my classes that I havent ever talked to makes his way over, “Hey!” he says in a friendly tone.

“Hey” I say back just as friendly

“You’re Y/n, right? We have 8am Tuesday together”

“Yeah, I’m Y/n. Yes I remember seeing you around” “I’m Kyle by the way” he says looking down at his feet shyly before looking back at me, “Where are your friends? You didn’t come alone did you?” he asks

“Oh, no” I say looking around the kitchen to see if I could see anyone I knew, “They must be in the next room” I say still browsing the crowd. The two of us continue talking about class and about ourselves before long it is close to 1am. 

“Oh shoot!” I say looking down at my watch, “I should get going home now, I didn’t want to stay out that long!” 

“You aren’t walking alone are you?” he asks 

“No I was going to ask one of m-” before I could finish I felt a presence behind me speak

“She’s good, man” I turn to see Luke and Duker behind me, one less happy looking than the other. 

“Oh sorry! I didn’t know you guys were dating!” Kyle apologizes to Luke looking between both Luke and I.

“We aren’t” I say but Kyle already turns to leave me with Luke before turning around quick to say:

“Ah okay, I gotta get going”

I turn back at Luke and Duker and Duker is first to speak, “He looked like he was going to shit himself”

“Who was that?” a slightly less amused Luke asks me. 

“Kyle, he was going to walk me home”

“You don’t even know him. I’ll walk you, come on” he says and I walk by him and he follows leaving Duker at the party. After we exit the party and begin our walk back home I question him.

“What was that?” I ask

“What?” Luke says

“Why couldn’t he walk me home?”

“Because”

“Good reason” I say walking a bit faster

“Well how long have you known him? Like awhile?” he questions me catching up

“He is in one of my classes Luke, damn! My own parents wouldn’t care that much!” I say stopping and looking at him

“Well I wanted to walk you home, that's all” Luke says in defence

“So you’re jealous? This is a new side I don’t like” I say and I could tell the last part broke Luke a little on the inside, “You act so protective over me like we are dating or something”

“I just don’t want you talking to other guys” 

“Why? We are dati-”

“Because I love you Y/n” he says and I stand there looking at him in shock, “I didn’t want to fall in love, but you make it hard not to”. 

“Luke- I- um I wasn’t expecting this” I say back in complete shock.

“I really thought staying friends would be better for us, but I was wrong. I can’t watch you with other guys anymore, it kills me” Luke continues. “I really didn’t mean to embarrass you tonight, but I just had to let you k-”

I press my lips to his shutting him up and he gladly kisses me back. I pull away staying in his arms, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that”. Luke smiles down at me pulling away and grabbing one of my hands. 

“Here let’s go to my place tonight” 

“The boys though” I say as I begin walking with Luke back to his place. 

“They have probably already seen this coming” he blushes

#luke hughes #umich hockey imagine #umich imagine #umich hockey #umich blurbs

[dandylovesturtles]

Fanfic Writer Ask Game!

🎯 🦈?

🎯 Do you have a writing milestone you’re working towards?

nope. I am at the whims of my inspiration and energy levels.

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

in ROTTMNT I would probably say Mikey. I think it's a little easy to lean too hard into the sort of "sweet little brother" thing that a lot of fandom likes (this isn't meant as a callout, lol, I like it too) and forget that he is canonically a little gremlin who is very silly and sometimes pretty gross (I mean he's a 13 to 15-year-old boy so it tracks).

Also he probably has the least defined character arc of literally every main character in the series (including the supporting cast like April, Splinter, Draxum, and both Caseys). Leo has his struggles with his place and identity within the team as well as his growth as a leader, Donnie has his issues with feeling replaced and directly linking his family "needing" him to his family loving him, Raph is struggling to live up to the expectations of the clan and his role as a big brother, April deals with her struggles connecting with her own peers and her fear that she doesn't count as part of the fam, Splinter has a billion things going on, Draxum has a whole redemption arc (truncated as it was) and Casey Sr effectively does too, and Casey Jr. has grief and trauma. And Mikey... would probably have had a really good character arc if we'd gotten the rest of season 2 and season 3!

A lot of Mikey's episodes where he gets to really get feelsy and show his emotions are directly tied to other people's character development, especially Donnie's and Draxum's, so we don't get as much of what his deal is. The only really solid Mikey centric episode is Hot Soup The Game, which definitely brings up Mikey's frustrations with being the youngest and thus babied as a result, so that's something you can draw on for his character, but even that's more tied directly into what he wants from interactions with other people and less about what he wants for himself.

(the truffle episode is super weird... like Mikey learns not to take his friends for granted? I guess?? I wouldn't have expected him to in the first place but yeah I guess that's some character development lol)

(actually as a total side note, it does annoy me a little that when Todd is first introduced as a character in Season 1, the whole point of his superpower being niceness was that he was so nice you'd do anything for him, and even villains were unable to turn him down, which was a really good gag and made him an interesting character. Then at some point it became that Todd's niceness meant he couldn't turn anyone down and suddenly he was just kind of a doormat, to Mikey first in the truffle episode and then all of them later in Todd Scouts. I actually like the Todd Scouts episode but also you didn't have to do that to him lmao)

(actually actually even though I like Todd Scouts I would have loved a version of that episode where Splinter stayed with them in the woods and then we dealt with how his feelings were hurt by the kids being more interested in their phones than his teaching and they could have pointed out that their dad kind of waited until late in life to start teaching them life skills and IDK WE DIDN'T GET THE FAMILY BONDING CAMPING TRIP WHEN THEY GOT CAUGHT IN THE TURTLE TANK IN SEASON 1, WHY DIDN'T WE GET IT IN SEASON 2??)

cough. anyway.

yeah so I always feel bad that when I look at my AUs and stuff I always feel like I give Mikey the least. I'm so sorry, Mikey, you're just already perfect and I don't know where to take you. ;;

Thanks for the ask!

#writer ask game

[ladinthehat]

I literally can't fall asleep because I remembered Wayhaven exists, and I am going to make this a problem not only for myself, but anyone else who sees this post as well. I don't even write posts but I really need to throw my thoughts out somewhere lmao

Warning: spoilers for every TWC book, what did you expect. Also talks about mommy/daddy issues and some mentions of harmful stereotypes about POC, both in media and real life. ALSO probably lots of mistakes and rambling, it's literally 3 am give me a break

Wayhaven is such a promising series of books that fell so flat with book 3, even though some could argue there were already issues popping up in book 2. I, personally, enjoyed it just as much as the first one, but that's up to anyone's opinion. Hold on, this deserves a whole list.

My personal and biggest gripe, MC's relationship with their mom. To write something so complex and then chuck it down to two choices (the choices being "forgive your mom" or "don't forgive your mom and everyone will make you feel like a piece of shit") feels so disappointing, especially if you consider what people with parental issues usually deal with irl. Of course there are people who choose to forgive their parent or not, but more often than not (and, as a result of that, what feels most realistic to write in a book) they end up somewhere in-between - it's a bittersweet relationship which you can either choose to continue or not, but the past memories and missed childhood can't just be forgotten and thrown under the rug. That's what MC's relationship with Rebecca could've been, too: a *complex* relationship that can either continue or get cut off completely, and it's a choice that should be respected, because a child that has been neglected has the full right to not trust their willingly neglectful parent again. And to some degree the author does try to achieve it, but in the end you will still have only two choices. And also, in Wayhaven you can literally feel what option author considers to be correct and not choosing that gets you punished severely, e.g. the carnival situation and every dialogue where you choose to not be cordial with Rebecca (the author never forgets to mention how you made everyone feel terrible. "Congrats you piece of shit, you ruined everything because you just can't accept that your mom wants to be buddy buddy again, ugh.") This pattern of turning complex situations into only having yes/no answers, with a negative choice having severe punishments, is such a recurring pattern throughout the whole book series that at this point it feels like a feature that I just didn't get (e.g you don't even get a choice if you want to join the agency or not, you just do, because that's the correct option). Also, I don't believe that literally no one, not even MC's best friends or partner, would try to see their side or god forbid agree with MC cutting contact with Rebecca.

You can literally feel that N and A are supposed to be the star children of TWC. While it was less obvious in book 1, it can't be ignored anymore in books 2 and 3. It does feel even more weird because M and F have the darkest complexions out of the cast, and are depicted as overtly sexual/flirty for absolutely no reason, to the point that sometimes it literally contradicts what the author established about the characters before (M can't handle most fabrics touching their skin and can't eat food because the taste of anything is too much for them, what do you mean they are hypersexual?? isn't sex one of the most stimulating things you can do that can literally be too much for a lot of people that don't even struggle with overstimulation on a daily basis??), but it doesn't feel appropriate to say too much on this issue as I'm literally as white as paper, not to mention that this topic has been brought up by many POC in the IF community who can have more nuance on this situation than I ever could. I can, however, talk about how inconsistent and over-exaggerated M and F's personalities are, compared to A and N feeling much more realistic and well-paced. I hate how M and F are mischaracterized in their own universe and all the meaningful things are overshadowed by "haha M likes sex and is lewd and aggressive" and "haha F is a silly lil' goober". Their romances suffer from it too, which brings me to-

The romance routes could be so much better. And I'm not talking about N or A obviously, even though that's another can of worms that I, frankly, don't want to open, but F and M. M is dumbed down to being aggressive, sexual and borderline feral at times, which are all GREAT traits to give all at the same time in your book to a person of color btw (they're not), but their scenes perform best when the author acknowledges that M is actually none of those things. Just them existing in the same space as MC and feeling at ease and relaxed (and, dare I say, vulnerable) feel much more intimate and rewarding than literal sex scenes, and I feel like that's what romance with M should've been about: two people, who are both lost and confused and overwhelmed in this new to them world (M from memory loss, MC from being thrown into the supernatural scene) bonding, finding comfort and familiarity in each other. Breaking all that buildup with innuendos and sexual propositions feels unnecessary, to be honest.

Continuation of the previous point, but the same could be said about F too. Poor F, the forgotten child of TWC; they're my absolute favorite, and it hurts to see them being thrown somewhere in the background as a comedic relief side character so many times. I feel like they could be the character who gets MC the most, even if they're not dating or particularly close. They have a difficult relationship with their mom, they're thrown into an unfamiliar world that's hard to navigate and it feels like everyone wants too much from them. You can't tell me that it's not some great exposition for a deeper connection between F and MC, both romantic and platonic, as well as an opportunity to explore anxiety and impostor syndrome/separation anxiety (not interchangeable, just feels like either one could fit F) in a seemingly optimistic character. But nah, they like Rebecca and are just a funny little fella. Definitely not playing into more media stereotypes of the only black character in the main cast being a flirty comedic relief.

At this point TWC is going to rival One Piece on the amount of meaningless fillers. And they wouldn't feel so meaningless if the author didn't try to mix slice-of-life and supernatural, or at least didn't mix them so poorly, but most of the time an occasional meaningless scene is thrown into the plot for some short-term tension for what feels to be absolutely no reason other than increasing the word count. Take the blood drive thing as an example of this: what was this scene for?? It started unnecessary tension, had a weird solution and just offered nothing to the rest of the book except for allowing Bobby to finally confront the RO of choice in a very awkward manner. I feel like the author promising 7 books (correct me if I'm wrong, but I remember something like that mentioned in the earliest tumblr posts) feels like a the author chewing off more than she can bite. And it sucks, because had she not had that amount of books (and subsequently a gargantuan word count) looming over her head, we could have had more actually meaningful and fulfilling scenes like ones in the bakery, literally my favorites. It could benefit the pacing, worldbuilding and reader enjoyment greatly.

I could write so much more but at this point I could just go on forever lol

#interactive fiction #if #wayhaven #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #cog #original post #if rambling #literally no one's going to read it but at least now i feel better gnight

[ramspatula]

Carnations | Cole Brookstone x fem!reader | Part 2

Ghosts don’t exist. And I’m not crazy. I swear I’m not lonely either.

Previous part, Masterlist, Next part

I toyed with the pink flowers Cole gave me and looked to the one on the wall, in the frame.

“Peach can you see that?” She turned from where she was laying on my bed, watching some random video on her phone.

“See what?” She asked

“The pink carnation… flower. The one in the frame.” I said and she frowned.

“Yeah I’m the one who put it in the frame and put it up there…. Why?” She asks and I turn to her.

“Do you remember when I told you about that old woman who came in every Sunday and only bought a newspaper and always had a singular pink carnation?!” I asked- demanded and she went wide eyed- sitting up.

“Woah. Yeah I do. Why?!” She asked again and I sighed.

“Nothing… I was just told that the woman died over a decade ago and the newspaper hasn’t existed for over 20 years.” I said and watched her face, she reacted oddly calm. I expected her to call me weird or tell me someone was messing with me.

“Ghost?” She asked and I deadpanned.

“Ghosts don’t exist.” I told her and she raised an eyebrow.

“Colourful people who can control elements and live for thousands of years exist but ghosts don’t?” She asked and I looked down. I didn’t want to think about that. I couldn’t be talking to a ghost?!

“That would mean I was being haunted by a ghost and I didn’t even know.” Why would Cole’s grandmother haunt me?

The room went silent and Peach sighed before looking at the carnation.

“Lloyd said he can’t see the flower. He asked me why you had an empty frame and when I told his that there was a flower in there, he looked at me like I was crazy.” She revealed and I turned to her.

“What the fuck?!” I questioned and she turned to me.

“Ghosts haunt lonely people. Are you lonely, Y/n?”

Am I lonely?

0:57 ————|——— -2:10

“Who can tell me how you can prioritise children first in an establishment?” I could do without this class right now. I could do without college right now.

“Are you lonely, Y/n?”

“Am I lonely?”

“Are you talking to yourself?” Kai asked. He taught the basic self defence class. Not that I ever did much. Not that many people turned up anymore. And by that I mean none. It was our hour to talk shit and pretend that we do anything. Peach always spent this time with Lloyd. At his home gym. They were definitely working out in some way.

“No.”

“You so were. C’mon tell me what’s going on?” Kai said, leaning on his elbows as we sat on the empty gym floor at the small university we both went to.

“Do you ever think about how this might not all be real? Like what we see isn’t what’s actually there.”

“That’s deep. I don’t like to think like that. Makes me feel unstable.” He told me and I nodded.

“But like-“

“Y/n, when was the last time you went out? Like on a date? And I don’t mean when you be really sad and join Peach and Lloyd’s movie dates.” Kai said and I whipped my head around, offended.

“Woah- first of all- fuck off. Second, I wanted to watch barbie and third, I have my fun. I just don’t need to brag about it to you.” I told him and he huffed, taking a swig from his drink.

“Hey! Don’t need to tell me twice. I was the fun- before I settled down!” He said and I scoffed.

“You’ve been in a relationship less than 6 months and that was back when I was 15 and you were 17. You should technically be locked up, pedo.” I told him and he looked at me offended, always hot headed.

“Don’t call me that!” He said and I laughed.

“Pedo! You like little girls!” I said and the ground felt a little warmer than usual considering it was nearing Christmas and I was wearing two layers right now.

“I am not a pedo! My girlfriend is older than me too! She’s 21, I’m 20… she’s the pedo!” Kai told me and I laughed.

“Mm sure.” I said and he threw his bottle at me and I gasped in shock.

“You’re a dickhead!” I swore and threw it back at him. He caught it without looking and opened the cap before taking a swig.

“So who you goofing around with now?” Kai asked and I shook my head.

“You wouldn’t know him- well maybe- he’s Lloyd’s friend- I think. I don’t know I met him at Peach’s birthday.” I told him and he frowned.

“Lloyd’s the biggest social outcast. He has less than a handful of friends. Do you know how easy that makes it for me to figure out?” Kai asked and I gasped.

“Peach would kill you if she heard you.” I said and Kai shrugged.

“Listen, spitfire, I would absolutely knock the life out of Peach. No effort.” Kai said and I kicked him, he whined. “Why?!”

“Peach would put you in a spliff and if not then Lloyd would snap you in a half.” I told him and he shrugged.

“Yeah I might struggle with Lloyd- since when were you that strong?!” He whined again and my face contorted into a look that read one thing- ick.

“Get up.” I told him and he sprung up.

“I’m good. Now let me guess this mystery man. Can’t be Jay because he’s Nya’s boyfriend… right?!” He asked, suddenly worried and I shook my head.

“I don’t think I’ve even met Jay.” I told him and he frowned.

“You must’ve. Ginger, freckles, yaps to save his life?” He listed and I shook my head.

���Definitely not Jay.” I told him and he frowned. “Why don’t we just talk about something else.” I said and he went to say something before his phone beeped.

“Sorry, gotta go. My boss just called me into work.” Kai said and was rushing out before I could say anything.

“Bye then.”

0:57 ————|——— -2:10

It was pissing it down. You could’ve convinced me it was a storm. I was wet and cold and I think lost?

“Fuck!” I yelled seeing the no signal or wifi available. I felt the tears enter my eyes. It was not my day.

“Excuse me, mam?” I turned to see the Earth Ninja and sighed in relief.

“Thank God! It’s you! I thought I was about to get mugged then.” I said and he laughed.

“Not on my watch. I actually remember you… bush girl.” He said and my face dropped.

“Do not give me that nickname it can mean two things.” I said and he raised his hands in surrender.

“How about we just get you home?” He asked and I smiled, professional man. Big man. Strong man. Stop it.

“Okay, thank you.” I said and he led the way, completely ignoring the fact that he the way to where I lived. I started to shiver.

“Okay this is no good. You’re shivering like you’ve just fell into an ice pool. Why are you out in just a hoodie?” He asked, concerned and I shrugged.

“Because I didn’t think!” I replied and he shook his head.

“C’mon, doll. Let’s get you out of here.” Before I could register he was hoisting me up into his arms, bridal style and jumping onto different building until he reached the top of the skyline and I screamed.

“What the fuck?!” I screamed and screwed my eyes shut, burring my face into his- wet- chest as he moved quickly and silently. Like dead silently, considering he was such a big guy. We suddenly came to a halt and he was slowly making his way through something before coming to a complete stop. I took the risk and looked up to see my room and then looked up to see him.

“Do you want me to put you down? Because I don’t mind holding you, sweetheart?” He said and I rolled my eyes.

“Just put me down, thanks.” I said and he gently set me down. I lifted my hoodie over my head, needing it OFF. I turned to him who was leaning on my open window sill and watching. I looked at him, questioningly. “Everything okay?” I asked and he nodded.

“I’m great. In fact I’m waiting for someone- hey Greeny! Straying a bit far from your patrol area aren’t you?!” He suddenly yelled out the window and the green ninja suddenly appeared on my window sill.

“I am still your leader, Earth. I can go wherever I think is best.” He told him and I made an ‘ooh’ sound, mainly to antagonise earth. I was also in complete shock that the green ninja was on my window sill.

“And I am still you’re big bro! Team comes first, okay Lil bro?” He questioned and the green ninja pushed his head away.

“You seem to be far away from your position too… bro.” The bro did not sound friendly…

“Okay, I see your point. I’ll be there in a minute.” Earth said the ninja squinted his eyes.

“Will you?” He questioned and Earth nodded.

“Just go! Don’t ruin my fun because I ruined yours.” He said and the green ninja rolled his eyes before jumping off the sill to god knows where.

“What the hell just happened?!” I questioned and he turned to me.

“It’s a big day for you! Meeting me and Greeny!” He said instead, cockily.

“Get out I need to shower.” I said and he tsked before sauntering over to the window sill.

“I’ll see you again?” He asked and I looked at him weirdly.

“Yeah whenever I’m about to die from hyperthermia again I’ll summon you.” I said and he laughed.

“Promise?” He questioned and I shook my head.

“Go!”

0:57 ————|——— -2:10

“Peach! Peach! Peach! Peach! Pe-eeeeaaach-!”

“Woah okay, don’t wear it out. Might start using my actual name.”

“Okay I-“

“STOP! Just might make me disappear.” She said, hidden meaning and I didn’t even think about it.

“Does Lloyd even know your actual name?” I asked and she paused.

“Yeah- I think. He’s seen my drivers license. You know the one I have because I can drive- anyway I’m doing an order, do you want this hoodie?” She asked and I momentarily forgot what I wanted to tell her. It was cute.

“Yeah!”

“Too bad. They don’t have your size.”

“What the hell?! Why would you even ask?! Anyway- trust me you are not gonna believe this. Like you might-“

“Just tell me.” Peach said, leaning back against the couch in our shared apartment.

“The Earth ninja took me home today.” I said and she sat up, alarmed.

“What?” She asked and I smiled.

“It was raining and I was lost because Kai had to go into work so he couldn’t drive me home and he showed up out of nowhere-“

“They’re ninja they do that.” She told me and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah but this is special because he literally waited in my room for a moment before the green ninja showed up and I think he was tryna see you again. I remember when you said you used to run into him all the time, do you still see him?!” I asked, rushed and she seemed uncomfortable with this topic.

“Yeah, he pops up every now and then to check in. People aren’t the nicest when you date Lloyd Garmadon. After that group tried to jump me he still sometimes makes sure I get home safe and he checks in to see if anything has happened. He’s sweet. The ninjas actually care. That’s why they’re better than the military… and they’re more powerful.” She said and went back to writing her essay.

“They’re sweet…. He was a total flirt! He called me doll, sweetheart and- and bush girl but I’m ignoring that.” I said and she frowned at me.

“Bush girl? Also- are you crushing on a ninja? I’ve never even seen you like a guy.” She said and cracked open her can of Diet Coke.

“I don’t wanna talk about bush girl. Okay I-“

“Don’t say it! Just tell me about this-!” Just then the door opened and a sweaty, out of breath, Lloyd came in.

“You have keys to our apartment now?!” I asked and he chuckled the keys in the bowl.

“No I have her keys.” He said and walked over to kiss his girlfriend before going to put his stuff away in Peach’s room.

“Staying the weekend?” I asked and Peach smiled.

“Hopefully. But who knows. He’s always on call but he promised that no matter what. He’ll come back here!” She said, hopefully. Lloyd, despite everyone hating him for his Dad, was in a pretty high position at his work and he was constantly on call. Personally, I think they hired him because they knew he’d have to do whatever they want.

“Hey, baby- did you hear?” She said giving me a mischievous look. I mounted a “what?” To her, confused.

“Hear what?” He said.

“Y/n’s met her dream man.” She said and I deadpanned.

“No-“

“No way! Who?” He asked, coming out her bedroom door, shirtless- SINCE WHEN DID HE HAVE ABS?!

“The earth ninja-!”

“Really?!” He said, amused.

“Yeah and she saw the green ninja too.” Peach added and Lloyd chuckled, making his abs flex.

“The green ninja huh? He’s real fond of you, peaches-“ That’s the closest his nicknames got to her name. The nicknames were ridiculously cute. “-but the Earth Ninja too? Are you two going for a theme?” He said and she laughed.

“You know if it wasn’t for your- abs- me and Peach would be lesbian lovers. Inseparable.” I said and he chuckled sitting on the couch with Peach settling between his legs and leaning her head against his thigh. “She’s was my pookie bear first.” I said and Peach rolled her eyes.

“I think you’ll find I have a lot more to offer than these abs.” Lloyd said and made his pecks do that thing where they move one by one. Peach hit him in the nipple and he didn’t flinch but laughed.

“Actually can you put them away- your muscles are scaring me.” I said and they both laughed.

“Okay but does my pookie bear want me to-“

“Hey! I named her pookie bear first-“

“Enough! You two are not having this argument again. And the next time one of you call me pookie bear and I’m gonna jump out that window.” Peach said.

“Speaking of names, Lloyd what’s Peach’s real name?” I asked and she deadpanned.

“Uhm… It begins with an I.” He said and she rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding, it’s Is-“

“STOP!” Peach called out and he smiled hugging her from behind.

“You know I wouldn’t.” He said before she shook her head and stood up. “You two behave whilst I order dinner.” She said like a mother with two silly children.

I immediately faced Lloyd and stuck my tongue out, he started doing the peck thing again and I cringed and put a hand up to block them from view.

“How are you supposed to date the Earth Ninja if you’re afraid of muscles?” Lloyd teased and I mock laughed at him.

“How’d you know he has muscles.” I said and Lloyd’s face dropped.

“Be serious.” He said and stood up, making his way to the bedroom. “Going in the shower, honey!” Endless supply of nicknames.

“Okay, pookie bear-!”

“ENOUGH! I am at my BREAKING POINT!” I yelled out to both and heard both laugh before Peach gasped.

“THE TAKEAWAY GUY THOUGHT I CALLED HIM POOKIE BEAR-!” I screamed and heard Lloyd let out a loud boisterous laugh. “WE NEED A NEW GUY.”

“Are you lonely, Y/n?”

Way to ruin my mood.

#ninjago cole #ninjago #earth ninja #nya smith #kai smith #jay walker #zane julien #ninjago zane #ninjago kai #ninjago jay #ninjago nya #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #cole brookstone x reader #cole brookstone

[shelandsorcery]

some left-handed gouache studies from the past week, after taking a couple months off thanks to the arm surgery and a deep fear that being bad at it would take all the fun out of it for me. painted on 12x16 paper, so I can get less mad about my wobbly left hand and focus more on larger marks and color and composition. good news! I'm not quite as bad at it as I had worried I would be, and it is mostly still very fun. bad news: not being able to draw a straight line continues to be a legit problem.

I don't know if this arm recovery stuff is interesting to anybody besides myself, but not talking about it would make me crazy, so allow me to update you on all of the weird side effects of being able to partially but largely mostly not use my dominant hand:

- as expected, I continue to attempt to use my dominant hand for things despite the fact that it: cannot hold any weight, it cannot get my fingers out of the way when I go to grab something, portions of the back of my hand and fingers are completely numb and don't notice when they bump against things, and despite the fact that I get weird nerve pain if I attempt to manipulate anything smaller than a tennis ball for any length of time

- I am most likely to thoughtlessly switch to my dominant hand in the middle of drawing or painting, in the middle of brushing my teeth, and while eating. apparently these are the three things I do where I get into a flow state.

- I am starting to confuse right and left, not so much as absolute directions, but as used to determine which way to tighten or loosen the lid on a jar or similar rotational acts that it turns out I absolutely do not have a logical structure for solving for anymore.

- I am starting to think of using my dominant hand for any purpose as "cheating", which is definitely counterproductive, but that's the ol' internalized ableism for you.

- I am more convinced than ever that our entire society has been designed to be subtly infuriating to deal with using your left hand, and there is no way anyone who is left hand dominant needs to hear my opinions on the matter, but wow. gosh. geeze.

- I oscillate wildly between being deeply deeply grateful for adaptive tools and being deeply deeply angry about their limits. again, there is nobody out there who has been using any of these adaptive tools for more than 2 months who needs to hear my thoughts on the matter, so this message is just for able-bodied people: you cannot call a tool a successful replacement for abled usage methods if it does not allow self-determination in how you use it. Microsoft, I'm looking at you and the many useful swearwords you censor when i try using your speech to text tools.

I do still really love painting, and drawing, and writing, even though they are all now very much new challenges all over again. I suspect mostly I'm just speed running the same experience many people will go through as they age of having to modify and realign their approach to their usual modes of expression and interaction and creation, which is something people have been doing for as long as society has existed, which just means I'm going to be better at it, obviously, thanks to getting this Head start

and maybe a year from now I will have the ability to hold things in my dominant right hand for more than 30 seconds, and definitely a year from now I will have a lot more precise control over my left hand, so I guess there's lots to look forward to 👍

in the meantime I will continue to paint my favorite things!

#gouache #bram stoker's dracula #crystals #painting studies #left hand life #adaptive tools #disability #voice to text let me say fuck challenge 2023