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#i was so angry and upset with the world and myself. i really tried so hard to stay conscious;
bo0zey · 2 years
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Did I miss "back from the war" recreation or is that not happening
OK so i've been meaning to address this for a while because it’s actually something i've been genuinely annoyed/sad/upset about; my original plan to recreate the post was to go to riot fest & have someone take pics of me during MCR live in person (caption wouldve been something like ‘when will mcr--omg they;re Back from the Warfdskns’ lol idk). i ended up 2nd row from the barrier & i was like OMG bc i didn’t expect to get so close & i was like ‘WOW these r gonna b such GR8 PICTURES!!i;m so lucky!!this is gENIUS!’ & so my plan was literally going according to/even better than planned right?? i mean the fact that i was ~a few feet away from the stage n was ~1.5hrs away from seeing mcr LIVE??? my plan was going along SUSPICIOUSLY well..everything was falling into place TOO perfectly...it was almost to good to be true right??? IT WAS. everything went to shit & my plan fell thru during the last band before MCR when my body suddenly fell victim to the effects of being crowd crushed for >7 hours straight; i experienced syncope & was pulled over the barrier & out of the pit by security.
sooooo, you didn’t ‘miss’ anything; the post was supposed to be recreated at the concert, but the universe pulled an uno-reverse on me when it remembered i’m on the universal ‘Do Not Ever Allow to Be Truly Happy’ list lol. i meant to post an update abt my failed plan afterwards, but tbh the actual event in itself made me wanna fr kms, and i felt even guiltier/worse for being unable to fulfill my promise to u all bc i fr planned on recreating it at the concert. 'ok but u were still at the concert after u got pulled out’ ok physically yes but mentally N-Ooo. due to the hypoxia (lack of blood blow/oxygen to the brain) i’d obtained secondary to being crowd crushed PLUS the psychological trauma of being removed against my living breathing dying will from the pit (btw the psychological trauma has nothing to do with being crowd-crushed but im not gonna get into that turmoil rn lol), i was stuck in an altered mental state for the remainder of the concert. i was dissociated for mcr’s entire set until i woke up the next morning & it took ~3-4 days for my body to fully recover from the physical trauma of being crowd crushed.
i still plan on recreating the post eventually, but tbh it’s not rlly my top priority atm bc 1) i still can’t come to terms w/ the fact i lost my 1 n only chance to experience MCR live & 2) imo seeing MCR live was the perfect opportunity to recreate the post & that clearly didn’t work out for me sooo now i have no idea how else i can top that idea :( .
#i have an idea but i’m not sure if it’ll work...imma need mcr 2 pull thru n meet me halfway on this 1 lol#anywyas i h8 talking abt riot fest i feel like every1 h8s me whining abt it too lol#i was so angry and upset with the world and myself. i really tried so hard to stay conscious;#ppl were asking if i was ok & i kept nodding yes because i didn’t want to be pulled out of the pit bc#then i’d lose my spot + my ONLY chance to see MCR live & so up close.#next thing i know i’m being pulled over the barrier by security and WHOOSH into dissociationville i go.#they were too much for my brain to handle so i’d just fall back even more into that weird dissociated state#i honestly would have preferred to not have even attended the concert. like HONESTLY 100% deadass i wish i didnt even go.#like imagine urself in my shoes lol i went from being 2nd row from the stage to like 70000 rows away.#yall dont understand how awful it is to have such a golden opportuntiy to be 1 hr n a few feet away from the band who saved u#to having it all ripped away from u in literally a matter of seconds#if i’d just stayed home my 12y/o little wouldn’t have had to experience the psychological trauma of having everything to having nothing.#my 15/16 year old teen wouldnt have had to re-live the experience of realizing there’s nothing left#in this world to comfort/protect/save her OR her childself#22 year old me realizing i failed them and all the other parts of me. i cant be happy i cant have shit in this world#i couldnt have my mom but at least i had mcr right??? nope lol that got ripped out of my fingertips too#i cant even begin to describe the emotional damage/psychological blow the situation had on me bc like#i cant even put it into words and i know nobody will truly understand/believe me when i say how heartbreaking & detrimental this#situation was for my already fucked up psyche. or they’ll think im exaggerating but its like u dont get it#ive lost so many things and people i spent my entire childhood/adolescence maladaptive daydreaming.#at age 12 mcr became my escapism for ~4yrs straight bc they were the only thing that made me happy#while all the other ppl in the real world in my day to day life were making me wanna kms everyday#like ik it sounds extreme/dramatic but ??? i mean i dont even fully understand my reaction tbh.#i think its just mcr used to be my happy place n then i get to see them live and its just an absolute nightmare#and the fact that i was dissociated from their concert when they used to be the only thing to keep me grounded to this earth???#truly i wish i didnt even go like i cant even listen to their music anymore without wanting to crawl out of my skin#when the only thing that made u feel alive made u feel deader than ever inside....yeahhhhh not fun!!#its a heartsinking feeling i hate it so much i wish i had a doever#mcr#when will mcr return from the war
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siriusblackslut · 3 months
Text
The one where Coryo shows his true colours after a disagreement.
As Coryo’s best friend, you should have anticipated this.
Pairing: Coriolanus/Reader
Word: 5909
Warnings: mildly dubious consent, soft dark, obsessive behaviour, yandere
Sometimes, Coryo was glad you were so stupidly naïve.
He hated it most times, you navigating the big bad world so clueless as to how it revolved around a pretty darling like you, when you would offer shy smiles to hungry eyes raking the length of your body, when you would entertain unpalatable opinions clearly devised for your sole attention, or when you would introduce him as your dearest friend to puzzling spectators moments after he greeted you with a peck at the corners of your mouth. 
Today though, he was so fucking grateful, for between the happy sips of posca you had announced just how thrilled you were with your university acceptance letter, as though you were expecting him to cheerily send you off to the other side of the city.
It was sour news, but Coryo was glad he was made aware of them sooner than later. 
“Away?” he demanded sharply.
The room settled into a tense silence broken only by his curt paces across the length of the room, and your eyes followed him expectantly.
When you didn’t reply, you weren’t sure what with from the tone of his voice, Coryo was quick to make his displeasure be known. “I wish you had told me earlier so I could discourage you.”
“But it’ll be so good for me,” you tried earnestly once more and Coryo thought you were positively deluded if you had ever thought there was a chance he was going to let you go.
He reached you in two strides, his thumb caressing your chin in a way that was gentle yet firm. “Don’t leave.”
It was clear he wasn’t asking, which made him even more disappointed when he saw your expectant expression give way to a frown because you were making this harder on purpose. Coryo thought it was a shackle sometimes, to want to breathe, live and own you.
“You’re upset, I unders--”
“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe how angry I am.”
And oh, bless you, you though he was worried about you, and you continue your reassurances that were endearing at first, but Coryo was finding them increasingly irritating.
You squeezed his forearm still stroking your chin, giving him a small smile, “I can handle myself.” The clench of his jaw went unnoticed, “And besides, Sejanus will be there too.”
Coryo hated sharing you, even in speech, and that revolting name rolling of your tongue so effortlessly like it belonged there replacing his own, it made him livid, and he thought it was the last straw.
“So, he can offer you a fortune?” He let his voice fill with scorn and allowed his face to twist into a cruel sneer. The thumb at your chin gentle just moments earlier now dug into your skin, “some more unsavoury opinions?”
“I thought he was your friend.”
Coryo let the silence sit and it was telling, so telling, in fact, that you were now questioning your friendship with him, rightfully so, and it was in this moment of rebellious defiance that you snapped at him and you had never snapped at him before, “Then I’ll be fine on my own then, without him or you.”
Such fierce words spoken in a wobbly tone, had Coryo thinking you had forgotten your place. He thought, in some way, he was to blame because he had been far too lenient on you and it was clear now that you had not respected the privilege of freedom that he had allowed. He would have to remedy that, and he wasn’t particularly sorry either, only sorry that you would think him unreasonable but really, he just wanted you to mold into the prettiest version of yourself and flourish with him.
When he took a step forward, his solid frame looming uncomfortably over you, Coryo had already decided that you weren’t going to leave because he simply could not fathom a world where you were not a mere arm’s reach away, and he was resolute that he would not either. He was deciding now, only how he would break it to you, and even through your thick naivety you sensed something shift.
“You’re staying,” he said.
It was an unsteady step back. “No.”
“I won’t say it again.”
It tired him, you had barely opened your mouth and he just knew it was another misplaced objection and so he silenced you instead, digging his fingers at your jaw and pulling you up to devour those pesky words. It was a hard kiss, one of nose bumps and teeth clashes that was entirely different from the usual shy easing brushes of lips, but Coryo thought he had to start somewhere more obvious now.
A muffled cry between his swirling tongue and you had hardly begun a protest, but he was there too, determined to swallow it up by planting more suffocating kisses until you were gasping for his breath.
“Fine without me huh?” Coryo repeated your words between each kiss across your mouth, lips, tongue, cheeks, chin and everywhere he could get his lips on.
To him, it was so intrinsically natural the way you slotted up against him, but for you and he was mocking your words now, it was a confusing turn of events. Mouth entangled with his depriving you of air, the hot skims of his fingers across your waist leaving a blazing trail in their wake and that dull ache blooming in your belly, it all made you disoriented and you pushed away at his head in retaliation for some rational distance, but he would never give you any now. Coryo had just tasted you and now you were leaving him high and dry and aching for more? He would even settle for that glimmer of sweat at your neck and he latched on, sucking pretty kisses across your nape until he could feel your pounding pulse and it made him drunk, the sheer power he had over you because you wanted him too, you just didn’t know yet.
“You just need a reminder of how much you need me,” he was planting sloppy kisses up your throat and his hands left their post at your waist, roaming, roaming and roaming until hungry fingers fiddle at the hem of your skirt pushing up and up until it bunched at your waist and the sinking feeling at your belly settled uncomfortably when you finally understood what he meant.
“I thought we were friends,” you mumbled weakly and Coryo was almost offended that you hadn’t spared a thought to the natural progression of your relationship, as if that truncated milestone was all that was destined of your relationship. Still, it was an improvement from the empty words of assurance, and he liked it much better when you had submitted, even if it was reluctantly.
“And you said you love me, and yet you’re leaving me,” he was murmuring into your skin still continuing his onslaught of rough kisses across your neck, “so it seems we were both not entirely truthful with each other.
Itching hands wandered up your thigh and Coryo was delighted to find your panties already wet from just curious fingers and persistent lips. Though you hadn’t grasped it yet, your body sure had and Coryo would make your mind follow once he was finished with you.
“Tell me what I want to hear,” he whispered encouragingly and his breath seared your skin. “That you love me.”
“I do!”
Fingertips caught the hood of your clit through your sopping panties, and he began to trace light circles at the drenched fabric, just enough for you to feel the beginnings of what Coryo could offer.
“Like lovers do.”
It made you shiver, and you exhaled into his chest. There were many realisations to be had in this pleasure haze. “Coryo--”
“That you won’t leave,” and he pressed another kiss into your neck, fingers drawing tight patterns at your clad clit until you ached for him like he did for you.
“That you’ll stay.”
“No-- oh--” A moan tumbled through your lips before you could stop it and you pressed your face deeper into his chest to muffle them out of embarrassment even though Coryo thought it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard.
All shy from a slipped moan and he wondered whether you even notice the way you were grinding against his thighs soaking his trousers, clearly yearning for something more than the light skim of his thumb barely there at your panty-clad clit. It amused him greatly, your outward unwillingness even though you belonged to him, and when those silly unintelligible murmurs of protests gave way to breathy gasps, but Coryo still thought you had yet to learn your place in his life, he moved away, palm bumping against your thigh under your skirt.
The betrayal, disappointment and relief on your face, it made Coryo triumphant because in some selfish way, he wanted you to understand exactly what you had subjected him through all these years.
“Go on,” he said, “just tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll make you feel real good.”
And despite your body shaking with unresolved tension, you still managed to shuffle back, head shaking defiantly.
Coryo would be impressed by your composure if he was not furious.
“No?” and he was onto you once again, consuming your lips until he was so sure you were inside him because then you would have to stay. Nose skimming your cheek and foreheads pressed flushed together, and all you could taste was his tongue swirling inside yours. It was working, him chipping away at your will, but still, you gave him a rational, albeit breathless answer.
“No,” you murmured because this was your dearest friend who had you all frazzled and flushed, and you swatted away at his wandering hands trailing between your thighs once again, but it was to no avail because Coryo was determined now, he would not have you slipping through his fingers because he had worked too hard at you and at this, he would have you impaled on them instead.
Forceful fingers yanked at your panties, and then it was all flesh against flesh with Coryo rubbing at your clit before he worked a knuckle into you.
“Gonna show you then,” he snarled. There was a lot more friction now, the sloppy sounds as he fucked his fingers into you reverberating around the room was proof of it, and the dizzying ache that returned twice as hard made your knees weak and you stumbled, plunging yourself deeper on his digits. 
“Tell me you need me.” 
It was a choked sob that made it out your lips, but it was still thick and full of arousal. “I can’t.”
“Of course, you can darling,” he cooed, and it was confusingly kind against the plunge of his fingers into your cunt. You only whined in response and whilst Coryo thought it sounded delightful, it wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear.
“I know you want to, just wanna hear it from your pretty lips.”
In case you needed another reason for a confession, he curled his fingers up paired with another plunge, fleshy pad brushing up delicately somewhere special and deep inside you. It felt so terribly good, but your waterline shimmered instead because the blossoming heat in your stomach, it made you feel so guilty because it meant you were willing, didn’t it? Now, that was all a bit too much to bear. “It’s not fair.”
“Fair?” Coryo repeated and it was unbelievably cold, making you shiver even in this hot flush.
You took another shaky step back, but he was already there with his chest pressed flushed against yours, fingers still pumping inside you while his thumb still circled your clit and it made your head empty and legs unsteady, and you pushed him but it only provoked him further because you were denying him his rightful property.
“You think it’s fair to leave me?” he growled and slipped another finger in spitefully, and the stretch was painfully delicious, “We’d promise we’d take care of each other, remember?” 
He didn’t let you reply, he was almost certain it would just be another string of silly protests judging by your shiny eyes. Instead he captured your lips in another hot and heavy kiss that was full of angry scrapes until on his tongue lingered the sweet metallic taste of you and Coryo was drunk on you, you in his lips, in his palms and now in his throat trickling like fire into his belly.
It was intoxicating for him, but painful for you and had you reeling back to tuck your head at his chest once again and Coryo’s only solace was that you were now rocking your hips, plunging yourself down to meet every thrust of his fingers.
“So sure you don’t need me?” he gave you another chance and he prayed you take it because it was hurting him now, when he knew he could shower you in such other-worldly pleasure.
You only burrowed your head deeper into his chest, still griding on his fingers. Unfortunate, but unsurprising and so he waited, and he didn’t have to wait for long, not when his thumb was busy lavishing your clit and you were doing half the work fucking yourself on his digits, until your breath hitched against his chest and you were shuddering in his arms with your cunt gushing drenching his sleeves before he pulled his hand away once more and the blooming pleasure waned away into nothing, leaving a dull ache in its wake.
Knees buckling and you stumbled back, glaring at him with fat tears rolling down your cheeks. It made Coryo’s heart ache, but he thought this lesson more important than your temporary upset at him, if only you had confessed.
“I don’t need you,” you snapped at him, and the self-assuredness in your voice had him thinking you were so clearly deluded. As if your cheeks weren’t running with tears from what he had withheld from you, as if you hadn’t just been rolling your hips against his outstretched fingers only moments ago. 
“Sure, seemed like you did when you were fucking my fingers.”
“I can take care of myself!”
He really did respect your persistence if it was not just so disobediently misplaced.
You were glowering at him now, despite the flush of your cheeks and Coryo wondered just how naïve you could be. Were you really that completely clueless as to the way your body craved him? How could you retreat when he could feel you twitching to be in his arms?
“I don’t want to be mean, you know,” he was advancing again, leaning in and it made you feel a bit dizzy. “But I will if you keep being this uncooperative.”
His intoxicating scent, the caress of his thumb at your cheek, your sticky thighs and that angry unreleased ache buzzing between your legs, it was all too much and you moved away, just to think, but Coryo was right there too, he would follow you to the end of the earth until you were in his arms.
A mere whisper away but Coryo still thought there was a vast expanse between the two of you because you just weren’t getting it, it was almost insulting now. He closed the space with another devour of your lips until you were gasping for breath and pushing him away yet again, but he was there and everywhere, lips all aggressive and all-consuming locking into your unwilling ones until he was smothering you, suffocating you in all his heavenly adoration, until it seemed like your only respite was to move your lips against his.
Even if they were sluggish and clumsy lips smacking against his sloppily unable to keep up with his heated ones, your receptiveness drew a groan of appreciation from him and it was that, the low rumble of his throat that snapped you back to reality, because this was your sweet Coryo Coryo coryocoryo, your dearest friend, despite that shameful heat rising between your legs.
It caught him by surprise this time when you pried his head away, stung even more after your momentary clarity, especially when he had really thought you had given in. Now you were just standing there with your lips swollen hanging agape and coated with his spit, peering up at him all doe-eyed through your lashes glimmering with tears, just standing there looking pretty like that was all you could do for him, and it made Coryo so furious because you could be more.
You caught a glimpse of him half possessed, but it was only for a moment before he had pounced back on you and the assault on your lips now borders on painful with his teeth scraping against your already sensitive lips.
“Gonna remind you myself then,” Coryo hissed between each rough kiss. It was suffocating, insistent lips and his towering frame pushed up against you threatening to blend into one, and you were still moving back and backandback until your calves were digging into the mattress because your lips felt so raw against his now, but he was still there, and there was no room to retreat anymore and so you arched your back away instead, anything away from his prodding tongue inside your mouth because it was painful, dizzying, electrifying but youcouldn’tseemtobreathe and you were leaning back leaningleaning until you were falling--
You toppled onto his bed, and it was a welcomed respite, wracked gasps slipping from your throat in a desperate attempt catch your breath, but the moment was brief, and the dire reality sank in your belly where Coryo had bunched the excess fabric of your skirt. 
He had taken his position on his knees; it was humiliating but not in front of you because he wanted you worshipped. Then, you would know just how much he revered you, adored you, loved you, to the point of complete devotion.
Cold fingers pried at your warm thighs and Coryo took advantage of your momentary daze to hook your left leg over his shoulder, his right palm pressing your other leg to ease your thighs apart. The ebbing pleasure reawakened once more from his hot breath at your cunt and the light trace of his digits up your slit. It was embarrassing, vulnerable and had you letting out another protest in retaliation for the premature sparks between your legs, but Coryo thought your warm slick coating his fingers said otherwise. 
He could tell that you were panicking now, thighs squirming against his shoulders as you began to grasp just exactly what he was doing. Arching your back in an attempt to buck him off but it smeared your pussy against his face instead, your clit bumping at his nose and your hips stuttered, a strangled moan escaping your pursed lips.
“You can like it, you know,” Coryo murmured and he was quick to indulge himself, running his tongue up your slit and he was careful to collect your precious essence, not a drop wasted, to swirl at your sensitive pearl of nerves until your quivering thighs were squeezing his head and you were gushing once more. 
And despite the many objections tumbling from your mouth, your body was so compliant, rewarding his efforts doubly and Coryo lapped away gratefully until you were dribbling down his chin and even then he brought his fingers to scoop them up before licking clean at them too because you were just so tasty and he was starved of you.
If gluttony was a sin, then why is he in heaven?
You were still writhing on the bed, still attempting to push him away at his head and it made Coryo even more determined if anything because he had never not gotten what he wanted, deserved and was entitled to. Slipping his left palm under your arse, he pried your flesh apart before pressing his face into your pussy, lips latching onto your clit, and it stayed there suckling because he would make an example of it now, that he was never going to let you go on his own accord regardless of how you begged him to. Hardly now, it seemed, when he flicked his tongue at your puffy pearl of nerves drawing another muffled cry, but you were no longer jerking back now.
It was taking less and less time for Coryo to drag you back over to the edge until you were teetering precariously once again, and he was completely delighted to find you already pulsing around him when he sank his fingers into you.
“You’re close again,” he murmured into your pussy and it was mocking because not a moment after he unlatched his lips from your swollen clit and you were protesting?, leaning back to admire his handiwork of your pretty pink pussy all swollen and glistening with slick a mix of his saliva and your arousal. He collected it up with a broad swipe of his tongue, finishing with a flick at your clit, all whilst still knuckles deep pumping into you, filling the room with obscene squelches.
“Can feel you clench around my fingers.”
“Oh--"
When Coryo felt your scrambling fingers again, it was to pull him in this time, as if he wasn’t already so intimately acquainted with your sweet cunt. It filled him with pride, that he could make you feel this good but just because he adored you didn’t mean he wasn’t going to discipline you, and if it meant taking your release away so you would understand just how intricately intertwined the both of you were, he would do it.
It began to ebb away as quickly as it had come, and it is in this moment of desperation that you reached for him. Blonde locks tangled within your fingers, but Coryo was still restrained, only soft kitten brushes against your bundle of nerves bringing you to another world of pain because it just wasn’t enough, only enough to keep you flustered and wanting but not enough for you to tumble over into the territory of pure euphoria. Even his right palm pressed against your tummy was firm, he couldn’t let you ride his face just yet, no glimmer of a chance at your own release that wasn’t at Coryo’s calculating hand.
All pretence abandoned and it wounds your pride.
“Please.” It was a whisper, but a polite start.
“Come on, princess.”
“Coryo,” There was no protest in his name anymore, only a pleading sigh of his name catching in your throat like a desperate hoarse prayer to something divine, and it made him hard.
“That’s it.”
“Please--” you tried once more but your voice breaks instead into a moan of frustration.
Your only consolation was that you weren’t the only one who was in suffering. Even in the midst of pressing gentle kisses at your cunt keeping you at the torturous edge where there was only one clear resolve, Coryo was also begging you  “Let me make you cum,” and the neediness in his voice was embarrassing because only you could resort him to this humiliation. “Just want to hear you say it.”
Another curl of his fingers, swirl of his tongue.
“Admit it.”
You were sobbing now, how could you let it go again? When it was just within reach, you could feel it brushing at your fingertips and at your thighs between Coryo’s curls, and the thought of it reducing to a disappointing barely-there wane, it brought salty tears to your eyes.
Your thighs tightened at Coryo’s shoulders in a poor attempt to keep him there, but you could feel him beginning to shift away and with it, your high slipping away too.
It was a dangerous game, but you were at the edge of your resolve, and you’d do whatever to convince him now, tell him that you would stay, that you would be whatever he wanted you to be, if that meant you could topple over the edge.
You could reason with him later, you would.
Reason what?
“Need you Coryo,” you gasped, “I need you, will do whatever you want.”
It was a little dazed and Coryo thought that you could work on the delivery, but he was happy with that nonetheless, rewarding you with a drive of his fingers even deeper catching every sensitive spot deep within you whilst his tongue continued its attention on your clit.
Whatever he wanted and he told you just exactly what between greedy mouthfuls of your pussy, “You won’t leave.”
It was pure desperation that spoke. “I won’t!”
Coryo lets you fall apart for him because of him. He released his palm at your belly button, letting you ride your orgasm out on his face with your thighs wrapped tight around his shoulders, his little angel so devilishly hysterical, until his face was completely smeared full of your delicious slick and he thought that he could drown in it happy.  
And when you came down from your high, it was still not enough because he wanted more of you and all of you and Coryo had a point to make that you needed him, you said it yourself. His efforts only doubled, indulging in the tastiest treat he had ever had, suckling at your oversensitive clit and needed his fingers drove deeper into your pussy until you were humming with unbridled pleasure that even the gentlest strum of his tongue had you thrashing around his shoulders, had your fingers tugging at his hair painfully as you soared and fell once again in the matter of seconds, another ragged pant dragged from your throat.
And when Coryo thought that you, your body and mind, had finally understood that you belonged to him wholly, he unlatched his lips from your swollen clit, pressing light kisses at your thighs before he pried himself of his position lodged between your trembling thighs.
When you came down from your peak, white ebbing back to the dimly lit room, you could make out his pale cheeks flushed pink and his hair messy an irrefutable evidence of your willingness. Coryo gave you a crooked grin, before he slumped back on the bed next to you, legs tangled with yours.
“I knew you would come to your senses.”
The reality of what you had agreed to settled disagreeably in the pit of your stomach once all that tension had disappeared.
His fingers, sticky from your cum, cradled your flustered cheek. It was as though he was reminding you, encapsulating you so you would never leave. He pressed another giddy kiss at your lips, and you tasted yourself on his lips.
“Tell me again,” Coryo panted against your lips; it was dizzying to be victorious.
But when he felt your cheeks wet against his, he wasn’t entirely convinced that you understood the seriousness of the events that had just transpired, and he simply refused to entertain your disobedience any longer.
“For fucks sake, just be good.” Now Coryo adored you, but he needed absolutes and not empty promises made in a frenzy of pleasure. Even though you had understood, you had yet to completely surrender to your happy fate by his side. He thought, maybe you just needed one final push.
His lips were locked onto yours once again, hot and hungry and before you could let out another string of those ungrateful whines and unwarranted objections which would only be ten-fold when the rattle of his zipper echoed through the room.
“You’re selfish, but I can put up with that,” he chastised while plying your lips open with his rough ones.
 “Wait--” your voice welling with alarm, but Coryo swallowed that one too, planting another kiss at your lips.
“Cus you’re mine.”
You were. His perfect stubborn girl who was now kicking feebly at his legs to no avail, limbs and lives too deeply intertwined.
Coryo could feel his composure slipping. He had been so sweet on you, but that was before his cock was pressing against your soft thighs. It was all instinct now because you were the sweetest temptation he had ever had to resist, but now he gets to indulge in you now and he sure was making a scene of it, groaning into your mouth while he guides his cock under your skirt, pressing it into you until his cockhead was gliding across your silky folds.
There was a bit of give before he breached into you, and see, he was right, he always was. You were enjoying yourself too whilst Coryo defiled you so that you could only belong to him, with your breathless whimpers tumbling drunkenly into his mouth, and he was sure not to kiss those away.
“You said you’ll do whatever I wanted.”
You did. Maybe in a haze of confusing arousal, but those were your words.
“And I want you to stay. With me.” Coryo murmured between each moment apart from your swollen lips, between each snap of his powerful hips driving into you. “I command it.”
He was sure to make every single rut into you harsh, until his hipbones were mashing against yours painfully because just look at how you could take every one of them, look at the way each sore bruise against your bony flesh went straight into your core and look at the way your wet walls clung onto every single bulging vein his cock had to offer you. Could there be any other reason why if you weren’t made for him and him for you?
And yet you were still refusing your happy fate.
A broken sob from your throat and Coryo could feel you tighten on his cock, clenching impossibly tight and he supposed that if he loved you, that meant every stubborn part, and even that was getting easier to love with how you were pulsing around him with every cry, and he thought he could grow to enjoy the chase.
And even that seemed to be waning now because you were conceding with every forceful fuck into you until you were reciprocating, your fingers tracing his chest while lips clung onto his, nature taking its course.
When Coryo pulled apart from your lips to lean back, it was to make you watch the way your lithe body beaded with sweat, not just accepting but welcoming his numbing assault from the way your pussy stretched, shaped and memorised him, so that even when he wasn’t there, he still was, there and everywhere. The outline under your navel bulging with every thrust was proof of it, and marked just how deep he was inside of you, conquering depths previously untouched.
“Look at it,” he snarled, bringing his thumb to trace at the bulge and it drew sparks across your skin. “Is there anywhere more fitting?”
You were just a mixture of sobs and moans when you peered up to blink at him dumbly, and Coryo didn’t think you could look any prettier but here you were, more beautiful and debauched than ever impaled on his cock. 
“Unless you want me to stop?” 
He was offering now, only because he knew you could never agree.
He snickered, “No, I didn’t think so, wouldn’t have lasted a single day without me.”
Gasping all over the place and it made Coryo swell with pride because he had done it, stamped out any ounce of bitterness and resentment you had towards him for just doing what was best for you, that was writhing and brimming full of unadulterated want desperate for release.  
“I won’t be there to make you feel good like this,” and he was gloating now adding to that messy whirlpool of emotions that were shame, awe and desperation pulling fat tears down your cheeks, but Coryo knew you better and thought that awful reality too painful for you to wrap your little head around.
“Gotta take care of you in every way.”
“Please!” and if had known that all it required for you to stay was to fuck you silly, he would have done it a lot sooner.  
“You’re not going to leave me, not ever, you do understand why that is don’t you?
Because he loved you, you understood that much now, but at what cost?
Coryo demanded an answer, his hips snapping up to bruising into you deliciously, but his pace stuttered.
Surely, he won’t take this away from you. You were ruined now, because he had made you feel better than your clumsy fingers could ever make yourself feel, reached places inside you that you hadn’t known ever existed, led you to heights so unimaginably heavenly with easy strokes. Coryo knew you completely, better than you knew yourself.  
So,what matter the cost when he loved you? When could make you feel this good, when he wanted to, he had made that abundantly clear. You thought that you could stay, if it meant you could feel like you this indefinitely.
“Tell me so I know.”
You gave him something better than an answer, you gave him a confession.
“I love you.”
Coryo thought it sounded perfect on your lips.
“You won’t leave me then.” It was unlike him, so uncharacteristically vulnerable.
“I won’t.”
“Promise it.”
“I promise.”
Coryo believed you. It was hard not to when the very proclamation had you rolling your head back on his pillows, your arms outstretched pulling him into a weak embrace, legs curling around his pistoning thighs drawing him unbelievably close until it was unclear where your body ended and his started and until you were one with him. He could feel you fluttering once again and it was even tighter this time around his fat cock instead of his fingers, until you came completely undone in a string of euphoric gasps.
For him though, it was your complete surrender to him, finding immense pleasure and unconditional solace in him and the years of frustrated anticipation melted away and Coryo groaned too joining your dazed gasps as he spilled himself deep inside you.
He thought, in this hazy reality, that just to be sure, he might just have to knock you up too, then you would really have to stay with him.
“You’ll write back,” he said in laboured breaths between each skim of his lips across your forehead when he finally slumped down against you. His tone was stern and gentle, there was no need to be mean anymore when you had been so compliant and obedient for him. “Write and tell them you’ve changed your mind.”
When you did not respond only turning away shyly, he peered down at you intently to see your waterline glimmering once more and he brushed the wetness away because he knew for certainty that they were only happy ones now. His prized possession brimming so full of bliss her eyes were brimming too.
Coryo didn’t mind this view of his pink and purple masterpiece dotted across your throat, marks of his property, but for now, he wanted your unyielding attention. He reached to tuck at your hair before tilting your jaw until you were facing him once again with your noses bumping lightly.
“You’ve got bigger and better things ahead of you,” Coryo murmured and it was his turn to be reassuring this time. Judging by the way his cock seemed to come to life again, tapping at your inner thigh, you agreed.
381 notes · View notes
bagopucks · 5 months
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A. Matthews - Worlds Worst Dad
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✄————————————
Auston Matthews x Fem!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warning(s): another family fight.
When I had gotten the request to do Auston and Hudson angst, I had initially started with two fics and for whatever reason I had them both completed last season. So I tweaked this one a little so I could still post it.
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Hudson was too young to understand.
“Just listen to me, bud.”
Auston had been so busy with the playoffs, that he hadn’t been home. He had been so busy with his job, and myself with my own, that at some point, we lost sight of how important communication was. Not necessarily for us, but for Hudson.
“You said you wouldn’t leave!”
“I’m right here.” Auston sounded so lost. I couldn’t blame him. Neither of us really expected our reunion to go this way. Hudson had been patient at first when playoffs began, but at some point he had given up. He’d become upset at first, worried. Nervous. Then he became angry. So angry. I couldn’t see into his mind. I couldn’t understand what he felt, but I knew it had to do with the way his biological father left. Sure, he didn’t remember it happening, but after his grandfather let the story slip one day, ‘fathers’ became a fragile subject for Hudson.
“You’re not around any more!”
Auston responded to texts when he could, and always called back when he missed a call, but the time zone differences made things difficult. Hudson didn’t understand why Auston couldn’t talk. Why Auston never stayed on the phone long enough to speak to him.
I had thought Hudson’s behavior would turn around when I announced Auston’s return home. Apparently it didn’t. I knew the knockout was hard, and I knew it took a toll on Auston, but I also knew he was ready to be back. I had warned the man before he came home, but I hadn’t expected Hudson to lash out the way he did. It was the last thing any of us needed.
“I’ve been a little busy, Hudson. Just chill out okay?”
I felt like a horrible mother. A horrible lover.
“Don’t tell me to chill out! You left!”
“Hudson don’t speak to Auston that way.” I reprimanded hopelessly.
“I didn’t leave.” Auston argued with a scoffed out laugh.
“Yes you did! Get out!”
“Hudson.” I finally heard him get tense.
“Get out!”
“Hudson, listen to me!” Auston raised his voice. It wasn’t something he did with Hudson. Mainly because he never had to. I could tell by the silence, that Hudson was trying to understand what was happening. Trying to process what it meant that Auston was angry.
“No!” The boy finally shouted back.
“Hudson! I have to work!” Auston finally snapped. I flinched, raising my hand slowly to clasp over my mouth as I felt a pang of emotion in my chest. Hudson simply didn’t want to be abandoned again. Not by another dad.
“I don’t want you! You’re a horrible dad!”
I jumped off the couch as soon as I realized what had been said. The blanket over my legs falling to the floor.
“What? You don’t mean that.” Auston’s nervous laugh had my heart thudding against my chest.
“Yes. I do.” The determination in my son’s voice had me immediately crossing the room to reach my son. “You’re horrible.” I watched Auston’s expression shift, and I felt my own breath catch in my throat as I spotted the tears in his eyes. As I reached for my son, he turned, shoving my hand away and storming off down the hall. The slam of the bedroom door had both of us flinching. My hand flew up to rest against Auston’s arm, squeezing gently.
“Aus,” I couldn’t undo the damage that had been done. I could see it in Auston’s eyes. He was devastated. “You know he doesn’t mean that” I whispered as I tried to turn his body to face my own. “He’s just emotional.”
“He said it pretty loud and clear.” Auston gestured toward the door, speaking as if it was an obvious fact. And it was. But that didn’t mean anything. Hudson was a kid, and Auston had done no wrong. He’d understand that eventually, and come around.
“He’s having a hard time. You have to know that.” I tried to push a piece of Auston’s long hair back before he pulled away, pursing his lips and shaking his head. My stomach twisted in knots.
“That’s okay… it’s fine- I’m fine.” Auston shrugged, “I’ve gotta go and get my dog anyway.” I had never seen Auston guard himself before in such a manner. He’d always been open with his feelings and emotions. “I’ll talk to you some other time, okay?” He shrugged once again, trying to keep up with the chill facade he usually didn’t have to fake.
“You can stay tonight.” I tried, but I knew he wasn’t going to.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t think I’m really making your life easier right now.”
“You’re not here to make my life easier, Auston.” I watched him slip past me, and I followed him to the door. “Sometimes Hudson isn’t going to like things you do. He’s the kid. You’re still in charge.”
“I can’t be in charge of him if he fucking hates me!” Auston shouted in a hushed tone. I watched as tears finally began to roll down his cheeks. This was not the type of reaction he hoped for after such a shitty second round knockout. Things were piling up on him.
“Don’t go home alone like this.” I insisted, wishing I could have comforted him the way he had done for me so many times before.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry, Aus.” I whispered as I watched him slip his shoes on.
“It’s not your fault.” He shrugged again.
“I’m still sorry. You don’t deserve it.” He turned to glance at me, eyes distant. Thinking.
“I probably do.”
We had said our goodbyes before Auston left. Auston and Hudson were best friends as much as they were family. I knew it killed Auston to think he’d hurt and disappointed Hudson. And I knew it made him feel terrible to think he’d done so horribly that Hudson hated him.
“Hudson.” I had waited a while to speak with my son, uncertain of what to say. When I pushed open his bedroom door, I found Hudson coloring in a book on the floor. Something bothered me about how calm he looked. He looked up from his coloring book when I approached, fidgeting with the blue crayon in his hand.
“Yeah?”
“Honey, you really hurt Auston.” I tried to be gentle as I spoke. I sat down on the floor across from Hudson, watching his eyes fall back to the book on the floor. “Hudson.” I tried to gain his attention. “Auston’s really sad. He doesn’t want you to be angry with him.”
Hudson’s hand shook slightly before he dropped the crayon. He remained silent before I heard him sniff.
“Then why’d he leave?”
“He told you, Hudson.” I moved to sit beside the boy, wrapping an arm around his back. “He’s gone away for work before.”
“But he always talks!”
“The end of the season was super busy for him, Hudson. Auston never meant to hurt you. He loves you, so much.”
“No he doesn’t.” Hudson pulled his knees to his chest, hiding his face in them as quiet cries escaped his lips.
“I promise he does. He always asked about you when he had time to call. He always said he was so excited to come home and see you. Hudson, he missed you more than he missed me.” I rubbed the boy’s back.
“No he didn’t.” Sometimes I cursed the heavens for giving my son the same stubborn behavior I held.
“Hudson.” I moved my hand from his back, turning his head to look at me. “Auston loves you more than anything. He hated being away for hockey. He hated the fact that he couldn’t be there to help you sign up for your first peewee team. He hated missing your last day of school, and he hated missing the little party we threw.” I watched the tears slip down his cheeks. “Auston tried so hard to call me that night. But things got in the way and he felt horrible.” Hudson leaned against my side, crying quietly as I returned my hand to his back, rubbing gentle circles.
“Is he mad at me?” Hudson’s voice trembled.
“Honey, I don’t think he’s angry. Just upset. You should never tell people you hate them. Especially someone as close to you as Auston is.”
“I’m sorry.” Hudson buried his head in his hands.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to, hun.” I ran my hand through the boy’s hair. “And the only way that guilt is gonna go away, is if you say sorry to Auston.”
“I will.” Hudson croaked out, another sob shaking his body. I sat on the floor with him for a half an hour before he began to relax. As much as I wanted him to apologize and be over with the ordeal, I figured a day with nan was needed first. A day for him to get out of the house, to see one of his favorite people, to avoid the situation at hand. He’d been at home waiting for Auston for weeks. He needed a break.
So the next morning, I helped him pack up and promised I’d be there the following day to see him. He asked about apologizing to Auston, but I said it was a good thing to give somebody space when they’re upset. I didn’t tell him I had plans to visit Auston. Kids didn’t need to know everything.
“One minute!” I heard Felix bark. I hadn’t seen the dog in forever. I was tempted to press the doorbell again for the sake of fun, but just as I reached for it, Auston was pulling the door open and hooking a finger in Felix’s bandana to hold him back.
“Hey, what’s-“ he stopped the second he looked up from his dog, a smile slow to form on his lips. Though it faltered when his eyes wandered, taking note of the unusual silence.
“No Hudson.” I spoke reassuringly. “I just came to see you.” I wanted to check on him, but Auston didn’t need to know that.
“You can come in.” Auston stepped aside and let Felix go. I walked into the house as he shut the door, greeting Felix with a high pitched hello and rubbing the dog’s ears while he padded his feet on the floor and wagged his tail endlessly.
“Somebody just got a hair cut.” I commented. “And he looks so handsome!”
“Thanks.” I looked up at Auston when he spoke, laughing at his sarcasm.
“You certainly look like you could use one too. Need me to cut it?” I offered, standing upright to pull at a lock of his brown hair. “It is getting a little long.”
“If you have time.” Auston shrugged. I could tell he was uncertain as to whether this was a quick stop or a full day visit.
“Well, Hudson’s having a sleep over with nan. So, if you’ll have me, I wouldn’t mind staying here tonight.” I smiled. “I’ll have all the time in the world then.” I watched him smile and nod, reaching for one of my hands.
“Yeah, yeah you can stay.” I was surprised when Auston pulled me into a hug, his entire body pressed against my own while his head fell against my shoulder. He was stressed. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was still about Hudson.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get this hair cut.”
Auston and I had been so busy, that we almost forgot how important it was to continue to nurture our own relationship. I couldn’t help the guilt I felt as I watched him walk up the steps, following at a safe pace behind. I missed him. The alone time, the childish nights of cuddling and making out. Even the failed dates we vowed to never go on again.
I followed Auston into the master bathroom, setting the toilet seat down while he got the shears and hair clippers out, as well as a squirt bottle. He made sure everything was functional and ready before turning to me with his comb in hand.
This had not been what I came over for, but I knew a bit of loving contact would loosen him up and hopefully cause him to be more open to the conversation we needed to have. I wanted to be on the same page with Auston before he and Hudson spoke again. Sure, Hudson had said he’d hated Auston before, and yes they had sorted that conflict out on their own. But this was a little bigger than that. Hudson had hit Auston’s insecurities right on the head and he didn’t even know it.
“Pop a squat.” I spoke, gently resting my hand on Auston’s hip and guiding him down onto the toilet. “What did you and Felix do today?” I created small talk as I combed through Auston’s smooth hair, glancing at his face occasionally to see his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips.
“We went for a walk. Hung out by the pool for a little while, planned his next playdate with Zeus. Oh! And I ordered him some new toys and treats for his birthday.”
“I forgot it was his birthday coming up. How old is he going to be?” Speaking of the dog, Auston and I both looked toward the door when his tags jingled. Felix sat in the doorway, dropping a ball on the floor and watching it bounce into the bathroom. Auston laughed. I had missed his happiness.
“Not now, buddy.” He spoke to his furry friend. “He’ll be turning five.”
“Five is a big number.” I teased softly, earning a laugh from Auston. I set his comb down after I finished using it, reaching for the bottle to begin spritzing his hair. Once I was sure it was well wetted, I swapped once again for the shears. “Hold still, okay?”
“Got it.” We sat in silence for close to five minutes before I watched Auston’s shoulders drop. Relaxed? Relieved?
“How are you feeling today?” My tone grew much softer, trying not to cause any discomfort. I watched Felix lay down in the doorway before I began to cut Auston’s hair.
“I guess I’m alright. Still a little shaken up.. about everything that’s happened, but I’m okay.”
“I spoke with Hudson last night. He was pretty upset about what he said to you.”
“I guess that’s good to hear.” Auston looked down at his hands. I sighed.
“You know how much he loves you, right? You are the first person on his mind every day.”
“Yeah, but-“
“No, Auston. Listen.. kids say things they don’t mean sometimes. They don’t have the best filters, or grasps on their emotions. And Hudson has never spent that long without seeing you before. It was a routine that got messed up, and for kids, routines are important. Routines are things they expect that they can trust to be consistent. This was a learning curve for everybody. He was anxious. He missed you, and it was hard for him to go to bed at night without hearing from you. He also doesn’t understand time.” I took Auston’s silence as a cue to go on. “Even if you did nothing wrong, he registered it as something wrong. It may take him some time to figure it out, but he still loves you, and once that consistency is restored, everything will be okay.”
Auston shuffled his feet slightly, nodding.
“I’m sorry I left last night.”
“Aus, a lot of shit happened last night. I didn’t expect you to stay. You’ve been so stressed, and I know that fight didn’t help at all. I’m just happy I can be here with you today.”
It was about fifteen more minutes before I finished cutting Auston’s hair. I set everything aside and grabbed a towel and a washcloth from his cabinet. “Why don’t you grab a shower, I’ll get you some clothes and we can go lay down for a bit.” I set the two towels down on the lip of the tub as Auston stood up. When I turned around, I came face to face with him.
“Thanks for being there,” his voice was barely louder than a whisper, hands landing on my hips. Our lips met briefly in a chaste kiss before I pulled away. “I’ll be fast,” he promised. I stepped out of the bathroom and pulled the door closed, fetching a fresh set of clothing from Auston’s dresser. I stepped back into the bathroom, placing the clothing on the counter top. Auston had already hopped into the shower, drawing the curtain back slightly to peek at me. 
“Wanna join?”
I pretended to consider the question before I sighed, as if I was plagued by saying yes.
“Fine, but only because I missed you, Matthews.”
“Awesome.” I watched the curtain fall closed, laughing softly to myself. I stripped down, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. I slid the engagement ring off my finger, placing it in the jewelry dish by the faucet. One Auston had purchased for days and nights spent at his place. I climbed into the shower, Auston’s hands swiftly finding my body. I helped wash his hair, and rubbed the muscles that were sore while Auston busied himself with every inch of me. His behavior left me giggling for most of the shower, and once the water was turned off, I ushered him out, following close behind. Auston grabbed the towel I had set out for him, wrapping up with a smile on his lips.
“Gotta keep you warm,” Auston spoke, going the extra mile to kneel down and dry my legs. I ran my hands through his fresh cut hair while he worked, smiling to myself at how kind he was.
“Alright, why don’t you get dressed, Aus? I’m gonna go grab some clothes.” I slid out of the bathroom, grabbing a makeshift outfit for myself, constructed of Auston’s clothing. I had things to wear at his place, but his stuff was so much more comfortable.
When Auston stepped out of the bathroom, our eyes met. It had been so long since we were able to spend any time alone. I watched his expression shift into a look of mischief before he rushed in my direction. A gasp escaped my lips when he hoisted me up over his shoulder.
“Auston!” I shouted at him, but it was in vain. I felt him lift me up once again before my back came into contact with his mattress. Then I heard Felix bark, and soon he had joined us for some fun. The fluffy dog hopped up onto the bed, and I was quick to sit up to avoid any unwanted kisses.
“You’re an ass,” I whined at Auston in a playful tone. He climbed up onto the bed and gently pushed me down onto my back once again. Felix tried to invade our fun, sniffing at both Auston and I, before Auston gently waved him off.
“It’s not nice to insult your significant others.” Auston spoke, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips. He climbed off of me and up the bed, sitting down as I sat up. I joined him by the headboard, resting my hand beneath his jaw and bringing his lips to my own again.
“It’s not an insult. It’s a reality check,” I teased. Auston giggled softly, and I swore I could have heard him snort.
Auston laid down and settled his head in my lap. Felix approached with a wagging tail, sniffing at me, and my stomach, before laying down next to me.
“I missed you so much,” Auston whispered as his head came to rest atop my own. “I wish you and Hudson could have come to a game.”
“I know, it just wasn’t in the cards for us this time. It will be next time though.” Auston’s silence made me tense slightly.
“What if there isn’t a next time? What if we don’t make playoffs again?” I looked at him, brow furrowed.
“Whether there is or isn’t, Hudson and I will try to make every important milestone you reach. I can’t tell the future but I can tell you right now, that we love you very much, and we want to be there for you.” My words brought a smile to his lips.
“Thanks,” I pressed a kiss to Auston’s forehead. His eyes fell closed, sighing in comfort.
“Oh, and Hudson watched every one of your playoff games on the tv, just for the record.”
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾
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waggledoogledoggle · 4 months
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⚠️Spoilers for Hazbin ep 4⚠️
⚠️Also, this post will talk about Abuse and SA, it is briefly mentioned a few times throughout the rest of this… whole long thingy I wrote⚠️
⚠️Also, brief mention of the scene where someone tried to drug Angel⚠️
Ok, I am just genuinely baffled at the people who somehow find a way to hate on 'Loser, Baby'.
Like, if you don't like Huskerdust that's fine... but 'Loser, Baby' is not overshadowing/brushing off Angel's SA. It's not victim blaming. And it's not Husk telling Angel to just shut up and get over it.
Like I've seen it so much, and you know what? Fuck it. Welcome to my TedTalk on why it's not all of those things.
For starters: Husk doesn't know about Angel's SA
When Angel has his vulnerable outburst (Side note, props to Blake I mean, they said 'take 5' he heard 'change lives') he talks about how he feels like he has to act the way he does to keep Valentino happy because he stupidly sold his soul to him. That he wants to get drugged up because that’s his escape. That he wants to be broken because maybe, just maybe Val will let him go. He wants to be free, but he can't and he has no one to blame but himself.
"What's the worst part of this hell, I can only blame myself" is literally the pre chorus to his song (Poison), and that is what he shares with Husk.
Not once does he bring up his abuse or SA. If he did, do you think a song would have even happened? Look how Husk reacted when someone tried to drug Angel's drink! Now that Husk actually genuinely cares about him? Dead. Dead. Valentino would be dead.
Us knowing about Angels situation in full is dramatic irony which is, essentially, we as the audience know more/are given more insight than the other characters. We were given the insight of Angel's true trauma that he deals with on the daily. Husk and the rest of the Hotel were not and have no idea what he deals with, the only one that even has an inkling is Charlie and even then we still know WAY more about Angel’s situation than her, so you can't really get upset at Husk for not knowing something he would have no way of knowing unless Angel shared it with him directly.
Moving onto the song itself, it's a song of empathy.
Allow me to explain.
Husk pinpoints perfectly what Angel is feeling in this moment:
"So things look bad, and your back's against the wall Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall Can't face the world sober and dopeless You've lost your way, you think your life is wrecked"
When Husk starts singing, you can tell that Angel is expecting Husk to pull the whole "But that's not true! It's not hopeless! You're life's not wrecked!" and is very surprised when Husk doesn't.
Instead, Husks says "Yeah. You're right." And this is when a lot of the haters get angry- but hold on a second.
When someone is feeling all of those things, saying things like "That's not true! You'll be ok!" aren't helpful at all. That's brushing it off. Even if it may be true, that doesn't help anyone when they're feeling like hopeless, lost, losers.
Because that's sympathy, not empathy. Sympathy is feeling for someone, and trying to make them feel better. Empathy, is not trying to make them feel any certain way- better or worse- empathy is simply feeling with someone. And that's what Husk does.
During the first chorus, Husk is clearly teasing Angel a bit while doing so, but not without good reason. It's keeping Angel from closing back up again, he's being a little bit silly with him and teasing him. I mean, did you see the silly lil walk he did crossing in front of Angel? And Angel is super confused because he's like "how tf is this supposed to make me feel better??"
That's the thing. It's not. That's sympathy's job, not empathy's. Empathy just want's you to feel felt with, it doesn't want to tell you how to feel. And adding that bit of silliness gives Angel's vulnerability a chance to breathe and it prevents Angel from closing in on himself.
The next verse, pre-chorus, and chorus is when the empathy though really kicks in.
The next verse, is the first part of empathy: Sharing about a similar experience you went through.
In this verse, now that Angel is listening not just hearing, Husk shares that he has been gruesomely damaged. Calling back to what he shared literally seconds before the song. That he knows what it's like to sign away your soul, and constantly look back at it with huge amounts of regret. That knowing that moment is what turned him into the mess he is today, and that he has no one to blame but himself. Just like Angel.
Then in the pre-chorus where there's the whole:
"I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak Haha! And you think that makes you unique? Get outta here, man!"
That isn't Husk telling Angel to get over himself and this isn’t him undermining what Angel’s been through. That's him saying 'I did too, you're not alone’
And then the very simple word change from "you're" to "we're" in the chorus is SO FREAKING HUGE. Because Husk is essentially saying "You feel like a total loser right now. Ok. Then if what happened to you/what you went through makes you a loser, then I'm a loser too. Let's be loser's together." Instead of trying to make Angel stop feeling like he's a hopeless loser, he decides that he is too.
He meets Angel where he is.
Aka: ✨empathy✨
Angel finally feels seen, understood, felt with. All the goals of empathy. He no longer feels alone in what he is struggling with, which is HUGE! Especially for people going through/dealing with SA and abuse.
The bridge of the song, is also extremely important, because this is where they acknowledge the differences in what they're going through. Their root problem is the same, but how it messed up their lives and created the problems they deal with now are completely different
And that's around when the song begins to shift from just Husk showing empathy and comforting Angel, to them both finding comfort in each other.
Which you can clearly see by the chorus under the umbrella, where it's not just one of them singing the chorus, but it's both of them. Because they have found a place to go to and confide in, a place of comfort, with each other.
Like, I am genuinely concerned that people find this song toxic like... have- have you never experienced empathy before? Are you ok?
So yeah, to wrap this up, if you don’t like ‘Loser, Baby’ just because you don’t like the song in general? That’s fine (odd, but fine)
But if you hate it because it “undermines Angel’s experience and what he goes through” I…
words.
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk
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asimpforthe80s · 2 months
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He's back
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Starring: vampire Eddie x grieving reader
Warnings: angst. Suicide mentions. Arguing. Crying. Reader panics. Mentions of hallucinations.
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You expected Eddie to stay dead. You know, because that's what dead people do. You had cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you everything when Eddie "went missing." So he did. And now your best friend is dead... or so you thought at least up until you woke up to him peering over you, fangs on full display.
"Miss me, sweetheart?" he says, brushing some hair from your tear streaked face. You pushed him away. "Stop it.. I don't need more stupid hallucinations to remind me you're dead.." you whispered as you turned away from him, tears glossing your eyes.
"Come on.. did you really think the world was gonna go on without Eddienoo?" He chuckled, smirking down at you.
"My world won't.. but you managed to make me believe that you were here last time.." you said, let out a soft sniffle and brushing away a tear. "So what's the difference this time?" Eddie asked as he leaned forward, tilting your chin up. "You feel my presence." As he leaned closer. His warm breath kissed your skin when he exhaled.
"Just means you're getting vivid.. or I'm going insane.. cause I damn right felt you last time, too.. You're dead, Eddie.. you're not real.." you whispered, only making yourself cry more.
"Yeah, well, I'm not dead, princess, and it's high time you realize that." Eddie paused for a moment as his thumb brushed away your tears. His fingers tightened around your chin. "I was dead, but I came back. That's the difference, so why don't you quit crying before I give you something to really cry about?"
You sat back against the headboard. "First of all.. dead people stay dead.. second of all.. my Eddie wouldn't talk to me like that in a million years.." You sniffed. "Well, maybe it's time you realized just how much has changed for me while I was gone. Because yeah, old Eddie would never have spoken to you like that, but I'm not him anymore. I'm a vampire now. And guess what? Vampires are assholes, sweetheart."
You felt your heart break at that. "Then I don't want you here.." you said, tears blinding your vision. "I want the Eddie who takes care of me and makes sure I- I get up in the morning.. or that I'm eating enough.." you said, letting the tears stream. The way you spoke hurt him. But he tried to hold it in, he really did. A slight frown creased his face when he saw that you were getting upset again.
"Well, he's gone, princess. And so is this new version of me that you didn't even give a chance." He turned, hands placed on the sides of the bed. "I didn't come into this life to please you."
Your lips quivered as you tried to speak. "Then you're not the sweet man I secretly fell in love with and tried to kill myself for.." you whispered, your voice cracking as you spoke. His hands clenched into fists. The veins in his arms stood out more prominently against his skin than before. The words you spoke triggered something in him.
He turned to face you, standing over the bed with his hands pressed down on the mattress. "What was that?" he asked with a low growl. "Since you're not.. not my Eddie.. then you're not the man I loved and tried to take my own life for because I found out he died.." you repeated. Something about the way you said that made his blood run hot, his eyes turning nearly black with a simmering rage.
He leaned forward, hands coming down to grab your shoulders. "Do you have any idea how angry it makes me that you would even dare to think you should end it?" He got close, his voice laced with pure anger. "How angry would you be if I said I tried?" You asked, tears blocking your vision once more.
He wanted to scream at you. He wanted to yell at you and tell you how stupid and selfish that was. But he felt a slight twinge at the back of his mind. You were suffering. And maybe it really was because of him.
Eddie loosened his grip but let his hands slowly and softly cup your cheeks. For the first time in a while, his eyes were filled with pure concern. "You what?" You sighed. "I've tried.. I- I've really tried, okay? But every single time, a stupid hallucination of you shows up, telling me that I shouldn't do it and that you'd want me to fucking live.. but I wanted you to live with me.. and I didn't get that.." you said.
At first, he was going to deny that you weren't crazy, but he kept catching himself wanting to let his guard down. Your words of having made multiple attempts sent him into a spiral of internal conflict.
He wanted to scream at you for even considering it. But he knew he shouldn't get mad that you did, especially with how devastated you were about his death.
Eddie stayed silent for a few moments, trying to get his thoughts in order. "You actually tried to go through with it? Multiple times?" You nodded. "Knives, ropes, you name it, I've tried it.." you whispered. His hands fell from your face and squeezed into fists. His anger was quickly replaced by hurt.
"You really didn't want to be here without me?" He looked away for a moment and let out a heavy exhale. "What made you think that I would want that?" You sighed. "I didn't care.. if you wouldn't stay to finish this stupid life with me, neither was I.." you said, another tear rolling down the damp skin of your cheek.
"You didn't care..." he repeated quietly as he stared down at you. For the first time in ages, his heart felt heavy once more, and it hurt him knowing exactly how much you were suffering.
Eddie leaned down and placed one of his hands on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking through your dampened tears. "You're hurting me."
You let out a soft exhale. "And you hurt me.." you said, looking him dead in the eyes as you spoke. "I never wanted to hurt you," he said as his thumb rubbed softly at a tear trail that led down your cheek. "And I don't want to now, but if I know I'm hurting you just being here, then I should just go, shouldn't I?"
Your eyes widened once more. Was he really just gonna leave you again? Your breathing quickened along with your heartbeat, panic flowing through your veins as you watched him stand up and take a step back. He looked away from you once more and stood straight, putting a few feet of distance between the two of you. And even though he wanted to turn and run, he knew he would only be hurting you even more if he did. He knew that he had to stand here and face you.
"I'm going to do the right thing and just leave," he began, his words were as if they were being forced out of him. You felt your body go numb. Not an ounce of control left as you sat there. Heartbeat at 186 and almost a matching breathing. Just watching him take more and more steps backward.
He saw the way you were reacting. He saw the way your body froze up, how your heart began to pump faster, and how you started to breathe erratically. But what really got to him was your wide, fearful eyes. Just at that moment, he could tell that your panic was escalating beyond words.
He paused for a moment, thinking about what he should do. But seeing the way you were reacting was breaking his heart. Your eyes were begging. Pleading. Knowing what you would just do to yourself if you let him leave once again. But you weren't in control right now. You couldn't stop him. Your body was betraying you, forcing you to let him take the decision without further discussion.
"Sweetheart, look at me," he quietly demanded, turning back to face you. But as he did, you could see how much it hurt him to see you like this, the way your eyes begged him to stay as if you could do nothing to stop him.
"I don't want to hurt you, so just answer me truthfully. Do you want me to stay?" His hand shook slightly as his arm fell to his side. You couldn't answer. Your body didn't let you speak. But you needed to. It was now or never, right? If you didn't answer, he'd just leave you again, right? Your body trembled as you tried to speak. But nothing came out.
You couldn't answer, and the uncertainty of the situation made his blood run cold. The way your body was shaking and the way your voice refused to come out meant that he had likely hit on what you wanted. But how much did you want it?
Eddie took a step closer to where you were sitting, leaning down by the bed's side and placing his hands on your shoulders. "I need an answer, sweetheart. Do you want me to stay here, or would you be better off with me gone?" A tear rolled down your cheek as you realized you wouldn't be able to answer. Not now. Not in a while. You begged that vampired could read minds. You begged for him to hear to words you were silently screaming.
He couldn't handle it.
The way you were shaking and the way your eyes were screaming at him. You couldn't answer because he'd broken that trust between you both in that moment when he was angry.
He pulled his hands away and leaned down so you could stare him directly in the eyes.
"I'm begging at this point, sweetheart. Please, look me in my eyes and tell me that you want me to stay..." Your eyes drifted to meet his. As you know that you wouldn't be able to speak or nod. You decided to try nodding with your eyes as it was your only source of movement. Eddie had a feeling that you wanted him to stay. But just in case, he took a moment to observe the way your eyes moved, seeing if your head would shake or if you'd try to find a way to say yes.
His eyes widened as the truth was confirmed.
"I'm going to ask you one last time, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. "Do. You. Want. Me. To. Stay?" Your eyes frantically formed a nod. Begging him to stay with you. Pleading for him not to leave you again. For a moment, Eddie was completely speechless. He nearly fell to his knees with how relieved he felt. He had put everything on the line there. Just a few seconds ago, he was ready to turn around and leave forever.
But instead, he leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. Pulling you into a loving embrace, his head buried into your neck. Finally, you felt yourself slip back into control.
"Please,please,please,please,please,.." You repeated, begging as you clutched the material of his jacket in your hands. He rubbed your back in a soothing manner, still unable to believe that you had just done the one thing he needed to hear.
"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere." You wanted to be held like this, and he was certainly going to give it to you. He was going to give you everything you wanted, and he wouldn't stop until you were smiling again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to be as close to him as possible as you sobbed against his shoulder, repeating words of begging into his ears over and over.
A rush of emotions hit him as you clung to him like you'd never let go again. The moment you wrapped your legs around him made his heart flutter. His eyes remained closed the entire time and he continued to rub your back.
He knew that this was the moment that would solidify your feelings for him. Now, there was nowhere to go but up.
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Reblog or comment if anyone wants this to be a longer fic. (Please do, I have a lot more. It'll be so fucking happy)
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i9messi · 1 year
Note
hiiii 🩵 could i request a mason imagine where he’s dating the daughter of messi??? and let’s say that leo has invited him over at their house for a vacation but little ciro is really close with reader so he gets a little jealous :’)) all fluff please tysm i love ur imagines 🥺
Summer trip — Mason Mount
Word count — 1,3k
mason’s masterlist
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"Vamos, Ciro, sonreí un poco." (Come on, Ciro, smile a little.)
Your brother however continued with that angry face, no smile appeared on his lips. The thing was, you had a boyfriend, a lovely boyfriend. Mason and you had been dating for a while now, your family already knew him and they liked each other. This summer was the first time you decided to go on vacation together but your younger brother hated the idea. Ciro was overprotective over you, you were his older sister and he didn’t like your boyfriend’s presence there.
Ever since your boyfriend showed up with his travel bags, he was even more childish and angry. Ciro made mean comments in spanish and even reproached you for bringing Mason on a family trip.
Your boyfriend appeared with a glass full of cold water and you thanked him, giving him a short kiss on the lips. He was so cute you could kiss him every single damn minute, but your family was there too, so you had to be more private with your affection.
"I love you." He kissed you again and then he looked at the child, smiling at him.
"Que asco." (How disgusting) Ciro complained, knowing that Mason couldn't understand him.
"No seas malo." (Don’t be mean.)
"What’s wrong?" Mason tried to understand what you were saying but his level of Spanish was not good.
"¿Cuándo se va a ir?" (When is he leaving?) Your brother kept asking the same question.
"Ciro! Es mi novio y tenes que tolerarlo por el resto del viaje." (He’s my boyfriend and you have to tolerate him for the rest of the trip.)
"¿Quién lo dice?" (Who says it?)
"Yo." (Me)
Ciro got up from his chair and gave you one last look, until he went to play football with his brothers. You let out a sigh, your brother was making it hard to stay calm during your trip. You loved him, but you just wanted your boyfriend and your brother to get along for a few hours.
"What's wrong, lovely?"
You took the chance of the fact that your brother left you alone and you told him what was going on. Once you explained Ciro was jealous, Mason laughed.
"Oh, everything makes sense now."
"What?"
"This morning I poured myself a glass of water and it was very salty, your little brother was smiling weirdly at me. Also, I can’t find my shoes anywhere and I think my toothbrush has a weird taste— like, a taste of soap. I think perhaps someone is doing things to upset me."
"Oh lord."
"It’s fine, he’s your brother and it’s okay that he wants to protect you, he sees me as a treat."
"You're not a treat, Mase."
"Well, I'm stealing his favourite girl. I get it, if someone stole you from me, I would be mad."
You smiled, Mason knew how to make you feel things in your chest. In a second you were mad at your little brother and now you were smiling at what your boyfriend said.
"But I love you, he has to get used to your presence."
"I take the consequences of falling in love with you. I don’t care if the little Messi tries to kill me, I’m gonna stay by your side."
"Will you? Are you sure? My brother can be very stubborn when he wants to."
Mason laughed again at your drama. Little did you know that your brother never gave up.
"I can also be very stubborn when I want to, and I love you, so that little boy has to get used to my presence."
"Good luck trying to fight with my brother, he will win."
You were totally sure that your brother was able to piss off even the quietest person in the world, your brother might look cute and all, but he was a devil.
"Fight? Who says I'm gonna fight with him? That kid will love me."
You both got up from the chair to go back to the water, your dad was taking care of your brothers as your mom was taking pictures of them at the beach. Your dad was Lionel Messi, Mason admired him and he was like a little boy when he met him the very first time. It still seemed a little unreal that he had fallen in love with the daughter of his greatest idol.
You went into the water for a while with your surfboards, Mason didn’t know how to surf so you had to explain a little and help him. It was too much fun, so much so that you didn’t realize how long it had taken you. The sunset had arrived and when you came out of the water, your parents and brothers had already left the beach.
"Babe, have you seen my towel? I swear I left it here."
"Oh no."
"Your brother."
You both came to the same conclusion. Ciro must have taken Mason’s towel to piss him off. The british made a pot and you offered him your towel. He took it and put it on his shoulders, then extended his arms to you.
"Come here, we’ll dry together."
Mason left you a kiss on your lips and you looked into his eyes. It was a little cold now that you were wet and it was getting dark, but his hot arms made you feel better. As you were alone, you allowed ourselves to show your love. With the kids around, you and Mason tried to not show signs of affection around them.
"I love you, darling."
Mason was so sweet, he made your heart beat as if you were on a roller coaster. He was so attentive and affectionate that every day you fell more in love.
"I know this trip may seem a little weird and my brother is trying to make your life miserable, but I really enjoy being here with you, Mase."
"I enjoy being here with you, love. I don’t want to be anywhere else, you’re my home."
"And you're my everything."
You and Mason had a good time on the beach, kissing and holding hands. There were plenty of beautiful seashells in the sand. Once it was late enough, you returned home and put on dry clothes. You went to the living room and found Ciro looking at Mason with a malevolent smile. Your brother returned the gaze at your boyfriend and with his best attempt at spanish, he spoke with the boy.
"¿Quieres jugar un juego?" (Do you want to play a game?)
Ciro looked at you first and then looked at him. A naughty smile intensified in his mouth.
"Voy a ganar." (I’m gonna win)
"Let's see."
Mason sat next to your brother and the two started playing FIFA. You saw them, not before telling them both to behave, as if they were kids. Your dad was sitting in an armchair a few feet away, so you came over and stood beside him.
"¿Crees que algún día se van a llevar bien?" (Do you think they’ll ever get along?)
"Miralos, parecen empezar a llevarse bien." (Look at them, they seem to be getting along.)
You followed his gaze, your brother was laughing at something Mason said. When Mason looked at you again, he winked at you. His lips whispered a ‘trust me.’
Later on, the game was won by your brother and Mason made a pot, sitting next to you.
"He is good."
"He is."
"Little by little I'll make your brother love me, it's impossible to not love me."
"You’re a bit smug."
"Don’t ya love me?"
Truth was, you really love him. And he knew it.
"I do."
"Now I need to make another Messi to love me. It was incredibly hard to catch your attention, I hope he's easier."
Mason was already thinking of all the ways he could make your brother feel comfortable with him. He made a mental list of what they had in common with the little boy, in order to try to find a connection between the two.
"Dummy."
"I love you, princess."
He kissed you and again, Ciro appeared to make a disgusting gesture.
"Que asco." (How disgusting.)
"Ciro!"
Mason little did he know that your brother was going to play another prank on him that night. After all, the Messis never gave up.
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mikachacha · 8 months
Text
𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚍𝚢)
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Synopsis: You know that Bada is already done with you and your relationship but you tried to hide your pain just to keep her. You tried to fool yourself but your world came crashing down when you accidentally saw a text from Redy, Bada's ex girlfriend.
Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, some manipulation and gas lighting and this will be heavy so be advised 🥹🫶
(A/N: So uhhh please don't murder me after this one gets posted 😭 i cried making this but i like torturing myself and apparently other people so here it is 🤧)
(Edit: due to popular demand, there's a part two for this ❤)
𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚘
🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸
You noticed a lot of changes between yours and Bada's relationship the past few weeks. She seemed more distance, always on her phone and has little to no time for you. Whenever you try and confront her about it, she'll just say that she's busy with work and you accepted that. Not until you received a call from Lusher asking where Bada is since she's rarely showing up at practices which confused you a lot. Bada always says that she's going to practice with the girls but apparently, she isn't. You couldn't answer Lusher and just ended the call, your tears streaming down your face as a sense of dread washed over you. Could it be that Bada is seeing someone else?
Hours felt like years as you waited for Bada to come home, you sat there, feeling so numb from all the thoughts racing through your head. When she finally came home, she looked at you, confused as you looked angry.
"Baby what's wrong? You look upset.." Bada asked and tried to kiss you but you pushed her away. You wanted to confront her, you wanted the truth out of her so you can ease your mind.
"Where have you been? Lusher called me earlier and she told me that you weren't coming to practices with them so where the hell have you been, Bada?!" you asked and she was taken aback by your outburst before wrapping her arms around you and placing kisses anywhere she could.
"Oh baby.. You're overthinking again.. I was actually with an upcoming girl group, I was chosen as their choreographer for their debut so I wasn't able to practice with Lusher and the girls.. Please don't be mad at me.." she says and you knew it was all a lie but you accepted it because you couldn't imagine yourself without Bada. You love her way too much and the thought of her leaving you scared you more than anything. So you let this one slide and hoped that your gut feeling is wrong with this.
Few days has passed and Bada has made it up to you, she has been incredibly sweet and made you feel so loved. She took some time off so she could stay home with you which made you happy and almost forget about all the pain you felt the past few weeks when she barely had time for you. You were awoken by Bada's alarm setting off but your girlfriend was still fast sleep so you reached out to her phone to turn it off. You squinted your eyes a bit to adjust to the phone's brightness but when you did, your blood ran cold. You saw a message from Redy, Bada's ex girlfriend.
“I love you and I miss you already 🥺” you read the text and your heart broke to pieces as it was confirmed to you that Bada is really seeing someone and not just anyone, it was Redy whom she claimed is just friends with her now.
You got out of bed and straight to the bathroom where you finally broke down crying. How can you be so dumb to believe that Bada and Redy just became best friends overnight? Now you feel stupid for sticking with Bada and believing all the lies she said to you even when the evidence of her being untrue is right there, clear as day.
Bada woke up when she heard sniffles and sobs from the bathroom then she saw her phone on your side of bed. Panic and dread washed over her, cursing at how stupid she is for not noticing her alarm and hiding Redy's text.
"Shit.. Y/N? Baby?" Bada knocked on the bathroom and tried to open it but you locked it, not ready to see her any time soon or hear her lame ass explanation.
"Leave, Bada! You and I are over! Go back crawling to your fucking friend!" you screamed and Bada knew that it really was over for you and her. With a sigh, she began packing her belongings and left your apartment while you sat in your bathroom, crying your eyes out.
Not even two weeks has passed when you heard that Bada and Redy are officially back together and it felt like a stab to the heart. It didn't even took her a month to move on from you, well she was moving on before you called it quits anyways, you're just way too stupid to not notice it. It pissed you off, it made you sick to the stomach that Bada's so proud to be with Redy but it took her months to admit that you guys are dating. You sighed, closing your eyes as you could feel sorrow wash over you again, as it had since the day Bada walked out of your life. She's so happy now, and you doubt that she'll ever be sorry for all the pain she made you feel.
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jerzwriter · 7 days
Text
Our fandom is made up of 30 people, half of whom have the other half blocked, so I'm an idiot for even addressing this. But since this continues to be posted publicly, I'm going to set my record straight—MY RECORD. I'm not speaking for anyone else, and no one else can speak for me. None of us are mind readers, no matter how much some seem to believe they are.
Back in April, a creator posted commissions of Bryce Lahela and Keiki Lahela in which the two AAPI characters were whitewashed. I interacted with this post in two ways: I ❤️-ed and commented on it from my personal blog. Also, I was the mod of CFWC at the time and I reblogged it there as part of the Choices Fics/Art of the Week. When I realized what I had done, I posted an apology here without solicitation.
I was angry at myself for my involvement and distressed that my actions caused pain to others. I know whitewashing is wrong. It is racist. I've spoken out about it in the past. Still, I interacted. But I didn't delete my comments to try to hide my involvement as some did. See, when I'm wrong, I say I'm wrong. I apologize and will make amends when it's the appropriate thing to do. So, criticism and corrections are never a problem for me. In fact, they're welcomed because it allows for reflection and improvement.
I'm sharing information not as an excuse but solely for context. See, the world isn't as black and white (no pun intended) as some like to believe it is.
I interacted with that post at around 1:00 AM after being awake for over 18 hours after working a long day, tending to real-life responsibilities, and seeing real-life friends (something I suggest each of you attain.) I was exhausted and should have gone to sleep. Instead, I logged on to reblog and do my "CFWC-work". Something I did every day (for free...) when I was still the CFWC mod.
When I was reblogging, I noticed it was the OP's birthday post (it was mentioned in bold in the header). I interacted from my personal to be kind, and I reblogged to CFWC as I did with all submissions. Did I really "look" at the art? No, I did not. I was exhausted and working on auto-pilot. I'm sure you've all done it - ever end up home and not remember the walk/drive there? I'm sure you have.
Now, I'm sure our fandom mind readers will scream, "WELL, YOU SHOULD HAVE!" and "HOW COULD YOU NOT HAVE!" And have at it. In fact, that's exactly what I said to myself ... days after ... when I happened to see a post calling it out (days after THAT post was originally shared). I went back to look at the OP again, and that was the first time I truly looked at the art, and I was like, "Dude, what the fuck?" <- That was directed at me for not seeing it before because it was so obvious, and I was super upset over it.
I took action and accountability right away. I deleted the reblog from CFWC and took it off the F/AotW List. I removed my comments from the OP and really reflected. I discussed it privately with the OP - you know —like an adult. Then, I issued a public apology, and, most importantly, I learned from it.
It was a reminder to check my white privilege. Did I not see it instantly because I was exhausted and not paying attention, or was it because I am so used to seeing through the lens of privilege that I overlooked it? Truth is, it was a little of both. So now I know to be more cognizant and do better going forward. It was a reminder that no matter how much you think you've learned, there is always more to learn. Always.
It was also a reminder to be more conscious of the content I interact with. I have always tried to interact with as many creations/posts as I could so people felt appreciated. Most people in our fandom are not very supportive. They will interact with one or two of their friends at most. I know how much people put into their little blorbos, and I won't apologize for trying to make people feel appreciated. But no more. Now, I'm interacting much less and only when I have the chance/time to TRULY look everything over. (To those of you who ❤️ something to go back and look at it later, you may want to reconsider that, too.)
I also posted this, and it was especially offensive to some - though for the life of me - I'll never understand why. It's merely saying stop with the vaguing, stop with the hate anons, just talk constructively. It was not directed solely at this event - but every stupid fucking bit of drama I've seen. Everyone is so quick to assume the worst in everyone. Things would be so much better, and so much needless drama could be avoided if people communicated like the grown-ups they profess to be.
Just be a decent human being, and spare me the "it's not my job" bullshit. Because if you're screaming about it publicly, you've already made it your job. You're just not doing the job very well.
I'm not perfect. I have, do, and will make mistakes - just like every single one of you reading this will - but I'm committed to treating people fairly and learning when I make mistakes, and I will offer grace when others make mistakes and show contrition because I know no one's house is clean.
I ran CFWC for years and tried to make it as inclusive as possible and encouraged diversity. A mistake was made, and it was immediately corrected. That does not make a blog racist, and it's narrow-minded and ignorant to suggest it is. But as is often the case in this fandom, those who criticize the most are those who tend to offer the least. Always have a problem with the way things are done, but god damned if they'll do anything to benefit the fandom as a whole.
I hate seeing all the problems and division this has caused. I hate that three people have come to me and told me that they were told to "choose a side." That they want to interact with me publicly but are afraid to for fear of attack. I'm telling you right now, no one will ever hear that from me. I will never tell anyone to block anyone. In fact, I only block people I consider unsafe or who block me - because you don't get to have it both ways. In real life, if a friend tells me I have to choose between them and another friend? I will ALWAYS choose the friend who did not ask me to choose because the one who did already showed me who they are. Make your own choices, but if you feel you can only interact with me privately, I'd rather you block me and move on. I don't need "friends" like that.
It was very hurtful that someone I considered a friend didn't think enough of me to come to me privately and assumed the worst of me without so much as a word. A conversation could have done wonders. But you know what that tells me? The "friendship" wasn't as much of a friendship as I had believed. It happens, and it stung for a bit, but that's done. After all, we never lose true friends.
I totally broke my rule of not explaining myself to those who were committed to misunderstanding me, but I just had enough. Besides, I don't give a damn about them - consider it a gift to my haters. Have at it - tear it all apart - if that's what you live for and have nothing better to do - go for it. I honestly feel sad for you. I wrote this for me - to put my truth out there. And I wrote it for those who are afraid to say these things themselves, and trust, they are out there. It's really, really, really pathetic that a fandom about stupid pixelated people devolves into this.
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wolferals · 5 months
Text
FUCK YEAH
Henry Cavill x reader
Warnings: drinking, cursing, sexual innuendos
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„Hey are we still waiting or are you ready to order?" The young waitress asked me for the third time in about an hour. I looked up at her and cleared my throat. „Yeah no... I'll just. Pay for the wine." I point at the still half full bottle of red wine I'd preordered for my date that was supposed to show up an hour ago.
She sent me a pityful look and spoke:"I'll be right back with your bill."
I forced myself to a smile and put my head in my hands.
He really stood me up. After all of the texting for weeks and the hour long phone calls...
I took a deep breath to prevent myself from starting to cry. Then i decided to just get my shit together and i sat up straight, took another few sips of my wine and eventually shot the rest of it down.
As the waitress came back with the bill, i simply handed her a bill far more than the actual bill and said „keep the change".
She smiled softly and carefully laid her hand on my shoulder. „I'm sorry girl, you really don't deserve this. You look amazing."
I smiled at her sweet comment and nodded back at her.
„Have a good night." I spoke as I grabbed my purse and stood up.
She smiled back and replied:"He's a dick."
I only nodded before I walked out of the restaurant.
Ashamed, sad, angry, drunk.
It was only about 8:30 now but due to the time of year, it was pitch black out and it was freezing.
My long coat was trying to keep me warm.
I continued walking for only a few steps before I heard a male voice yell behind me. I ignored it until i felt it coming closer until someone carefully touched my shoulder.
„Ugh what?" I turned around, screaming at the person. I was simply fed up by the world that second.
„Whoa sorry!"
He was handsome. Far too handsome. Tall, bright blue eyes, dark hair (i could tell from his dark beard and the few curls that were showing underneath his beanie).
„I'm sorry but you dropped this."
He held out a card.
My card.
My credit card.
„It must have fallen out of your wallet when you paid inside." He pointed at the restaurant behind us.
„Sorry, i wasn't watching you. I just saw how upset you looked and you did in fact drop this."
I smiled softly and took back my credit card. His British accent was charming.
„Thank you." I tried to sound nice after all that just happened to me that night.
He smiled at me before extending his hand to me. „I'm Henry."
I hesitated to shake his hand at first but eventually grabbed it.
„Y/n."
He smiled again. „I don't know what happened to you but if it cheers you up, my night was absolute shit too."
I couldn't help but chuckle. „Does help a little." I admitted, grinning.
„Good" he smiled. „You okay though?" He seemed to genuinely care.
I took a deep breath and looked around for a second. „Honestly? No. Got fucking stood up by a guy who I thought was genuine. But noo men fucking suck!"
He could hear my frustration.
„Im really sorry... You clearly don't deserve that. Fuck him, he must be super insecure."
Henry spoke and smiled a little bit.
„Your turn now. Why was your night shit?"
I asked curiously.
He laughed shortly.
„Got cheated on, found her in our bed in MY house with a guy I'd never seen in my life."
My jaw dropped. „Holy shit." He nodded.
„Now my night seems like a joke. Im so sorry that happened to you! In YOUR house though?"
He nodded again and then let out a chuckle.
„So yeah my plan for tonight was to get wasted and probably fall asleep on the pavement."
I laughed with him.
„Probably a bit cold in December."
He laughed loudly. His teeth and his smile were gorgeous.
We stood in silence for a few seconds before I spoke up:"Fuck it. Im drunk already. Henry? Do you wanna get drunk and hook up? I know this is super straight forward and I swear to god I've never done this in my entire life but I'm fucking upset and you're feeling just as miserable and i think ur hot and i don't even care if this story was fake or not to pick up women or to get their sympathy but it worked okay? I'm hooked because I think you're hot and we both could need it."
I stopped for a second because I saw the shocked expression on his face.
„If not, please forget it ever said that, forget about meeting me and I'll walk away and we'll pretend we've never talked and i'll go home and go to bed, you can go to some scrawny bar and get drunk and fall asleep on the sidewalk even though it's fucking freezing and you might die but thats on you and not my problem because i don't know you and i'll never see you again, especially if you're dead then, then i won't see you anymore anyways..."
I finally stopped talking after realizing how ridiculous I'd just sounded.
He simply stared at me.
„I'm sorry I-."
He interrupted me. „Y/n?"
-„Yeah?"
He looked me dead in the eye.
„Yes. Fuck yes."
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HSJKSKSS THE BF WHO FCKED THE GF ON A FACE TIME CALL 💀💀💀 I usually don't send requests but i cant help myself with this one because you quite posibly have created my dream man 😍 the way he was speaking to her and teasing her 🙈🙈🙈 he was soooo sexy the way you wrote him groaning and bucking like my heart (and other things) hurt 🥲 can you write something with him and reader and basically she tells him she's not feeling well so she stays home at her apt but he goes and finds her at a club instead, dancing with her friends that she hasn't seen and her ex also happens to be there 👀 nsfw if you're okay with it, with him fucking her in front of said ex. I read your rules so its ok if this doesn't pick your interest but i still wanted to let you know how much i love that yandere!!!
Got a little inspired by this idea anon so here's my take on it😋I really loved writing the kind of public, riskiness of that fic so I'm glad you cared for it dude!!
TW: Noncon, toxic relationships/yandere behaviors, punishment, NSFT, yandere films himself rearranging readers guts
Your first mistake was when you tried to use the old “out-sick” approach. You weren’t the world's best actor but even if you were, you probably still wouldn’t be able to fool your boyfriend. He was too skeptical, too observant and too invested for your own good. He always managed to find out; always. And each time, you got less and less confident about being able to escape him, even for a little while. 
“I’ve got a fever of 105, and I’m really contagious. I promise we can go out tomorrow, I just…. Need some alone time to rest for now. To get better, so I can see you.” 
You knew it was a poor lie, that there was the chance that he would come over anyway, trying to potentially take care of you or scold you for letting yourself get this sick. But, he hadn’t even needed to. It wasn’t long after the phonecall that he got a ding from his phone, your location having updated. You were in an unfamiliar area, one that wasn’t  recognizable as one of your many common stops. It was a bar, one that was hosting a small event with karaoke and cheap booze. It made much more sense to him when he came to find you and saw your friends surrounding you; he was disappointed, angry, and felt betrayed; but those feelings only lasted for a second. The image of you talking to one of your ex’s, sent him into a different state. It was just a quick turn of your gaze where he caught the corner of your eye, standing next to a barstool. 
Pieces of his phone crunched in between his fingers, his eyes blank as he saw your face morphed from shame to grief. It felt like a rock sank in your stomach, the panic of him having caught you in your lie making your feet go wobbly. 
You were the first to approach, excusing yourself from the conversation with your ex-partner, who your boyfriend was already getting malicious ideas towards. He was more angry at you, though; for having tricked him so openly. You walked to him slumped, ashamed of yourself but upset that your boyfriend was even here in the first place. 
You knew your short-lived freedom was over, feeling the pinch of his fingers wrap around your wrist. He pulled you to the car, forcing you in with a slam of the door. You hadn’t even gotten the chance to say goodbye to your friends, even though they were halfway to being in a stupor. 
The punishment wasn’t pretty; the worst, most embarrassing part of it came when your boyfriend managed to get his hands on your ex’s number. Thankfully, only the one you had been talking to that night. But that one number was enough of an audience for your boyfriend to have a field day.
 At first you didn’t know why he was holding the phone up, though you could barely see it from how restrained he had you. But it didn’t take long for him to shove it up and close at your pretty, worn out face. You could hardly keep your eyes straight, shuddered breaths leaving your sticky mouth. He enjoyed the positions where your whole body could be seen, could be displayed on camera to show your ex what was his, how he was using it. Especially when he could hold your jaw, telling you to look pretty, asking you to smile for a “little picture.” He got the chance to shove his face against your neck and show how deeply he could fuck you, could make you into nothing but a mess for him. What he loved most to send was the pictures of deep, swollen lovebites, of the marks his nails make on your skin. 
“C’mon baby, don’t you wanna say something to the camera? Maybe beg for them to come and save you?” 
Each thrust had your insides rearranged, your boyfriend lowering his phone to show the mess that was him inside of you, the drips on your thighs and the sweat that clung to your skin.  The worst part of all in this punishment-- was the lack of control you had, the fact that you couldn’t stop yourself from bellowing out sounds caused by your pleasure. The will he had on your body had you saying things that made it hard to look at yourself in the mirror. 
You knew you’d never be able to escape from the blackmail he now held over you. It was hard to come to terms with that, but the more often it happened---the harder it was to pay attention to it.
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911 6x11 Coda
Read in AO3 too
“So this dreamland of yours,” Eddie says after a comfortable silence filled only by the background noise of the sports commentators, “what was it really like?”
“Super freaky,” Buck huffs a laugh. “I told you already.”
“No,” Eddie drawls the word with playful annoyance. “You told us the saccharine version because Christopher was there. Or because you didn’t want someone else to know the details. I don’t know,” he shrugs. “All I know is you aren’t telling the whole story.”
“I am,” Buck tries, but can hear the uncertainty in his own voice.
Eddie finally peels his eyes off the tv screen to pin him with a knowing look.
“Buck, I know you. You were holding back. Which… fine, you don't owe the entire world details about whatever was going on in your brain during a coma. I get it. But, c’mon, it’s me. Spill.”
Buck bites the inside of his cheek. There are details he really doesn't want to reach the others. He doesn’t want to upset anyone with the fucked up things his subconscious came up with. But… yeah, this is Eddie. Somehow, it feels wrong not to tell him.
“Bobby was dead.”
Even now, in the real world, having seen him just a few hours ago for lunch, the words get stuck in his throat. Buck hates the way his voice shakes with the ghost of heartbreak, still remembers the sensation of the world crashing down around him when Chimney (fake Chimney) told him. He tightens the grip of his beer, letting the sting of his wounded hands ground him in this reality.
Eddie arches his eyebrows. “What happened?”
“He… fell off the wagon. No one noticed, until it was too late.”
“Because you weren’t there?” Eddie’s expression turns critical. “Buck, you do know Bobby’s sobriety isn’t your responsibility, right?”
“I know. I know. The world doesn’t revolve around me,” he rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer to wash down the bitterness. “But you… you didn’t know Cap before. Before you joined, for a while, he was… different. Too reserved. Like- like he thought if he didn’t get to know us, we’d be better off or something.”
He can see the confusion in Eddie’s eyes while the information sets in. He can’t blame him. This Cap, this Bobby, is so different it’s almost impossible to reconcile him with the one he first met.
“Anyway,” he tries to lighten the air, “I guess I was annoying enough to break him out of his shell a little, or make him laugh. Or maybe I’m just giving myself too much credit.”
Eddie lets out a noncommittal hum. “Guess I can see that.”
It feels good to have said it, to let it out, to have someone else know. He trusts Eddie’s discretion and knows that, if Bobby’s death comes to haunt him in his nightmares, he’ll at least have someone to tell. He’s ready to return his attention back to the game when Eddie pops a sudden question:
“And me? What was I like?”
“I told you.”
“Angry, yeah,” Eddie frowns. “So that’s it? Without you I’m just… angry guy?”
Buck laughs, shaking his head, and is about to change de subject when he notices that Eddie looks bothered by the statement. As if whatever Buck’s subconscious said about him was a big offense.
“It wasn’t about me,” he offers.
Eddie pins him with another look meant to strip him bare of his secrets. Buck looks down at his hands, unable to meet his eyes:
“You- you lost Chris. To your parents. Big messy legal battle. Hen- Hen said they declared you unfit to be a single dad and a firefighter.”
Eddie takes a big gulp of beer with his eyes on the screen.
“Oh, yeah… that’d piss me off.”
To Buck’s relief, he sounds lighthearted about it. He guesses it’s easier when it’s just a made up crazy reality in someone else’s dying brain, when it didn’t feel so real and definitive as it did to him.
“Guess no one else there introduced you to Carla.”
“And you weren’t there,” Eddie points, “to fight for him.”
“No, I wasn’t…”
Eddie nods, still staring at some point in the distance, clearly not watching the game. Buck waits him out, let’s the idea settle, because he knows his silences enough to guess this one prefaces a statement.
“And you didn’t meet me there?” He finally asks and, again, he seems offended with Buck’s subconscious.
Buck feels the need to defend himself:
“To be fair, you would’ve just called me crazy and called the cops on me or something. I mean, Chim and Hen were ready to roll with it, but you don’t even believe in jinxes. What do you think you would’ve said if a guy you’ve never met before showed up claiming to be your best friend from another life?”
Eddie laughs, really laughs, and Buck finds himself smiling too. On retrospect, he kinda wishes he had searched him out, just to have another ridiculous scenario to tell him about now.
“No, that’s- that’s true,” Eddie shakes his head, still smiling. “Probably would’ve dragged you to the nearest psych ward. Still…” he trails off.
“Still what?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I feel bad for that Eddie. Sounds like he could’ve used a Buck in his life.”
Buck is past feeling guilty for leaving those subconscious versions of his family behind (except for Chris, he’s never getting over that one), but he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been running through scenarios in his head, wondering what could’ve happened if he’d stayed. (Aside from, obviously, being dead and all that).
“Yeah, I guess so,” he sighs sipping his beer. “Still, I don’t know how much I could’ve helped. I mean, of course, I would’ve tried to help you- him get Chris back. But I’m not sure how that’d work without the whole legal guardian thing, you know? I mean, m- maybe I could’ve found Ca-“
The cushion hits him square in the face and nearly makes him spill his beer.
“Hey! What’s that about?! I’m convalescent here!”
“That’s not what I meant."
“No?”
“No!” Eddie rolls his eyes, exasperated for some reason Buck doesn’t understand. “I mean… yeah, if I was in that position, of course, I’d want help getting my son back. But that’s not it…”
Buck scratches the back of his head, squinting at Eddie like it’ll somehow help him read between the lines of whatever he’s trying to say.
“Then what is it?”
“I just-“ Eddie stumbles with his words and sighs. “I just meant... it sounds like he could use a friend.”
What good would that do?
Buck doesn’t say it, but his face must betray the thought by the way Eddie’s mouth twists with annoyance.
“Buck, all your help with Chris, introducing us to Carla, you being part of his life, helping me raise him… of course, it means a lot. I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.”
“But?” He prompts.
“But,” Eddie says slowly, looking him in the eye, “that’s not all that matters. I mean, you’re my best friend, man. Even without all that, I’d want to be friends with you, hang out, laugh, do shit all on a Sunday night. That matters too.”
Just being Buck.
“Oh.”
Eddie looks away, takes two big gulps of beer, like they can wash down the emotional weight of what he’s trying to explain.
“I’m just saying,” he says, eyes still on the game they are both ignoring. “If I was going through that, it sounds like hell… I’d want a friend like you by my side. You’re a very good friend.”
Buck ducks his head to hide the heat of blood rushing through his entire face. “Uh, well, thanks… I- uh, I appreciate it. You’re a great friend too.”
He tries to picture Eddie without him. Tries to picture himself without Eddie. Both options seem impossible.
“Well, good thing we met," he decides with a grin, raising his beer lightly against Eddie's.
"Good thing you didn't die," Eddie says, and though he tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer and a distant look at the tv, Buck can feel the heaviness hidden behind that sentence. It only hits him at that moment... Eddie was maybe a little too close to finding out exactly what his life without Buck would be like. "I mean," he goes on with a shrug, "sucks for that other Eddie, but I'm not much of the sharing type. So I'm glad you came back."
"Of course," Buck smiles, trying to match the false lightness in his tone. "You're stuck with me."
"Good," Eddie nods a single time like the matter's settled. "But I'd rather not be stuck with this couch."
"It's so uncomfortable!" Buck chuckles, glad that someone finally brought it up.
"So uncomfortable!" Eddie agrees, finally meeting his eyes.
"My mom's always had the worst taste in furniture."
"Oh, so it runs in the family."
"Hey!" Buck pretends to be offended and throws the cushion back at his smug grinning face.
He misses by quite a bit (something to worry about later). Instead, the cushion knocks the beer bottle clean out of Eddie's hand and spills the dark liquid all over the couch's white fabric.
Buck and Eddie look at the growing stain. They stare at each other, silent, frozen with the sudden panic of two little kids about to be reprimanded by a grown-up. Except, there are no parents here...
...just two grown men who burst out laughing at the exact same time, bent over in a fit of giggles so loud that it drowns out the game's final touchdown. Not that anybody was watching, anyway.
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lynzishell · 7 months
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Prev // Next
Transcript:
Content Warning: The discussion in today's post contains mention of childhood emotional abuse, dissociation, and self harm. Please proceed with caution or skip if needed.
Phoenix: Why don’t you talk to your parents anymore? What happened? Dawn: Nothing happened… Fine, if I tell you, can we never talk about this again? Phoenix: Sure.
Dawn: [pauses briefly to think about how to explain] I don’t like talking about them because I don’t like to remember what it felt like… It’s just that… they didn’t care about us at all. If they did, they never showed it. The ONLY thing they cared about was appearances. We were always expected to look and act a certain way, and I swear I could never get it right. I was too loud and too messy. And when I disappointed them, which was all the time, they would just… ignore me. They wouldn’t look at me or speak to me. It was like I’d cease to exist. It was devastating.
Dawn: When I was little, I didn’t understand, so I would throw massive tantrums trying to get them to acknowledge me. I’d scream and cry and tug on them. Eventually, they’d look at me, but they’d just laugh. Like it was the most hilarious thing they’d ever seen. Atlas never tried that, he shut down early on and would just stay in his room. Eventually, I gave up and did the same. I don’t think they ever really wanted us.
Phoenix: That’s awful. Why would they try so hard to have children if they didn’t want them? Dawn: Because that’s what was expected of them.
Phoenix: Can I ask you one more thing? Dawn: What? Phoenix: The scars on your arm…. Why? Because of them or…?
Dawn: Um, yeah, I guess. It’s hard to explain… Sometimes I would wonder if I was a real person, like I really wasn’t sure. I was always trying to do everything perfectly, to get it right. There was a part of me for a long time that worried if I didn’t, I might actually disappear one day. Not like dying, but just like, ‘poof’ from existence. And I’d get really upset And I’d feel disconnected from myself, like I wasn’t really in my body but outside it, and it was scary. But this [rolling back her sleeve], it helped... I’d feel the sting and see red, and it would bring me back into my body and remind me that I was real. And I’d feel better for a little while.
Dawn: I don’t get it. They’re the only two people in the world who were supposed to love me… unconditionally… like instinctually… and they didn’t. I never understood why. I never understood what was so wrong with me. Phoenix: Nothing. You are the best person I know, Dawn. Just because they clearly don’t have the capacity to love, doesn’t mean you were ever unlovable. I’m glad they’re not in your life anymore. They don’t deserve to be.
Phoenix: I love you so much. I promise, I will do everything I can to make sure you feel loved every single day. Dawn: You already do.
Dawn: Promise me something else? Phoenix: Anything. Dawn: Don’t ever give me the silent treatment, okay? No matter how angry I make you. Phoenix: Never. I promise.
Dawn: Thank you. I love you. Phoenix: I love you too.
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quietwingsinthesky · 2 months
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I completely agree with your post about 11 and how well Matt Smith embodies the exact necessary tone/expression for each beat of the script! I can't imagine someone else being able to bring to life that incarnation of the Doctor. Obviously 11's era and writing has its misgivings and flaws, but I still find a lot of joy rewatching those episodes, because you see this scared, lonely doctor who's still so enthusiastic and hopeful, even when the grief and rage gets to him. It's like seeing those emotions reflected in you, and a reminder that you'll feel that hope and appreciation for life/nature again, too. I think that emotional catharsis and sincerity is the heart of doctor who and what attracts us all to the show, to be given reminders that compassion and hope are a strength, not a weakness. Seeing his expression change during that part of The Doctor's Wife always, always moves me because of the kind of honor and awe that dawns on 11's face at his tardis using the exact words he uses to describe how he stole her. It's such beautiful, tender reciprocity between two beings that couldn't communicate their feelings in this way until right then 💜
yeah, couldn’t have worded it better myself if i tried.
i think i’ve said before that eleven is my least favorite doctor, but i need to make it clear that that doesn’t even come close to me disliking him, or even feeling neutral about him. he’s still incredible, like if we put these guys on a line from bad to amazing, all of them are so close to the amazing side that you’d have to zoom in to see the order. he’s just got the unfortunate fate of being in the weakest seasons of the show that i’ve seen so far, but if i was judging this solely off of the performance of the doctor himself? he’d be tied right there with david tennant, if not above him.
no matter the quality of the writing, matt smith is bringing his A game to the table. tennant’s performance before him has moments where his doctor is serious and cold, but he’s so generally affable that those moments sort of slide off to the sides. not that you forget about it, but that it feels like a lesser part of him. and matt smith’s performance follows that with a doctor who is silly and energetic and sweet, but I think he pulls off keeping the harder parts of the doctor to swallow in mind, the scary sides of his grief and anger. some of my favorite scenes for eleven are when he’s given the space to show the full range of the doctor. the two that really come to mind are obviously that moment in the doctor’s wife, and my other stand-out favorite, his scenes with river in angels in manhattan, where we watch him lash out at her when he’s scared and angry at the fact that it was her name on the book that’s fated his friends to be pulled from him, and then a scene later, he heals her wrist by sacrificing what little regeneration energy he has left, because he does love her, he does know he was wrong to let her be hurt, but he also doesn’t ask if he can do this to fix things beforehand and upsets her again.
it’s just such a delicate balance to pull off there to make that scene work, and he does it perfectly, brings across both how much potential he has as the doctor to hurt and to heal the people he loves. i think, in the hands of any other actor, i would find eleven really hard to watch, really unlikeable. but just like he manages to never let you forget those unbearably painful parts of the doctor’s personality, you also never doubt that, even when he lashes out at the people around him, he loves them so much. he’s just. you know. Going Through It.
(also, personal touch, i so love how physically affectionate he portrays the doctor to be. it’s a small touch that means the world to me. really pulls the whole thing together when you know this man is just jumping for an opportunity to hug and hold onto and kiss the people around him. rory getting a forehead kiss when the doctor sees him for the first time in months, my beloved, rotating that moment in my head forever.)
there’s just so much going on with him. he was a fantastic doctor. (hell, all the people that have gotten to play the doctor so far have been, in my eyes, which is astounding to me. just straight bangers the whole way through, i’m incredibly impressed by how much love and work you can see go into these performances.) i think if i rewatch his seasons again, knowing exactly what to expect this time around, i’ll enjoy them much more than i did the first time.
sorry for rambling on so long, but i just need it known how much i really do love eleven. i needed a bit to warm up to smith, i’ll admit, but he earned every last bit of praise i can give him.
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grey-sides · 11 months
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King of the River
Steve’s knees sunk onto the damp, hard floor of Tina’s kitchen. His broken heart forgotten when Nancy had walked out the front door with Jonathan Byers close at her heels.
He had been upset, sure, upset enough to down as much punch as Nancy had and more. But maybe it had been falling apart long before the party ever happened.
Maybe it never even got started when Barb went missing after the pool party with Tommy and Carol. Steve didn’t know when they stopped being on the same wavelength, but he found it easier to forget when his brain was clouded with alcohol.
Alcohol and the sight of Billy Hargrove across the room. He was drunk too, a nasty laugh in the air because Tommy H was trying to get his attention. Tommy was always trying to get Billy’s attention.
Steve smirked to himself where he swayed because he didn’t have to fight for Hargrove’s attention. He had it whether he wanted it or not. And he wanted it right now.
He got to his feet and dropped his punch cup on the counter, uncaring if it spilled or made a mess. Tina could deal with that later before her parents got home.
No, Steve needed to talk to Hargrove.
He licked his lips, weaving between the couples still dancing together. Across the house that wasn’t that big, but felt like an ocean of bodies between them.
His sunglasses were in the pocket of his blazer and Steve pulled them out for some courage. Or just to make Hargrove think that he was a bad ass.
“Harrington!” Hargrove drawled while Steve kept making his way over. He grinned, licking over his teeth as he looked at Steve.
“Saw your girlfriend run away with some other guy.”
Steve scoffed, even as his heart ached in his chest. “Not my girlfriend.”
“Tough luck, amigo. Plenty of other bitches in the sea,” Hargrove replied. He was swaying where he was leaning, but he took a bold step forward to get in Steve’s face.
“Broke your record, didn’t I?"
Steve’s eyes dropped to Hargrove’s lips and his beer breath for a moment. But he quickly dragged them back up to smirk.
“Guess you did. I’d offer a rematch, but I hear the keg is tapped,” Steve breathed.
Hargrove laughed and with a flick of his wrist, Tommy H and the other guy were gone. They were still in the middle of a party, but it sure felt like the two of them were alone on top of the world.
Steve licked his lips again and gestured to Hargrove’s chest. “Damn near wearing half the keg it looks like though.”
He was jealous of Hargrove’s chest, of course he was. He played sports and worked out, but he never looked like that. Could never quite get such a nice physique.
Hargrove set his jaw for a second, a moment until he practically grabbed Steve by the scruff of his neck and shoved him out into the yard.
They were alone in the yard, with the keg tapped out, most people had huddled inside for the blistering warmth of high schoolers. Or they were gone, off to fuck each other senseless.
Steve stumbled to a stop, managing to keep his feet under him, but only so. He whirled around, his sunglasses flying from the force of it.
“What did I do?” he demanded, whined really because Hargrove was being unnecessarily rough.
“Acted like you didn’t want my attention all night and now you’re what- trying to razz me?” Hargrove asked. He looked angry, angrier than Steve thought he had any right to be.
Steve waved his arm roughly through the air and he scoffed. “Don’t even why I bother,” he muttered. “Was trying to make conversation.”
Hargrove laughed darkly and shook his head. He reached out to grab Steve’s lapel and pulled him close. “Stupid conversation, Harrington. Yeah, I have beer on myself, get over it, fucking priss.”
“Hey!” Steve shoved back at Billy, his hand sliding across a sticky, sweaty pec. He made a face and tried to take a step back.
“You know, when other people used to overthrow kings, they would make an example out of them,” Hargrove said. Dangerous.
“It’s not real,” Steve muttered, shaking his head.
He licked his lips anyway though and had to ask himself why being talked to like this was making his dick interested. As interested as it could get when he was this drunk, of course.
Hargrove- Billy now, probably- grabbed his shoulder and started to put pressure on it. So Steve was forced to sink down.
“You got a problem with the beer on me?” Billy asked, voice low, deep, and dark.
Steve stared up at him, his mouth open because he didn’t think he could close it. “I-”
Billy nodded and gestured to himself. “Lick it up then.”
“What?'
“Lick. It. Up.” Billy grabbed his chin and pulled his face close. Until Steve was face to face with his tanned stomach.
He blinked a few times and looked up at Billy. “This is-”
“Come on, pretty boy,” Billy coaxed. “Lick it up and I’ll give you a handy in my pretty car.”
Steve felt conflicted, he knew this wasn’t a normal thing for guys to do. But nothing in his life had been normal since Barb went missing and the Demogorgon showed up.
He licked his lips and leaned in. Billy put a hand on the top of his head and Steve opened his mouth. He licked a stripe up the side of his abs.
Billy groaned above him, so Steve did it again. He let his eyes close. He focused on the sticky blandness of the beer. Of the tang of salt from Billy’s sweat. Thought about Billy’s spit mingled with it all.
Steve stuck his tongue in his belly button and swirled it around. He thought about the cold ground on his knees. He opened his eyes to look at Billy through the tops of them.
Billy met his eyes and moaned, pulling on Steve’s hair like he hadn’t spent half an hour on it earlier. It was to shit now anyway.
“There we go. Show me who the King is,” Billy drawled.
So Steve kept going until his eyelashes fluttered and he felt dizzy from licking at Billy like a lollipop.
He got lost there, on his knees in Tina’s yard while he cleaned Billy with just his tongue. His fingers eventually curled around Billy’s legs, the tips digging into the back of his knees.
Steve reduced himself to laps and moans, falling into Billy’s pelvis while he cleaned him up.
And when Billy tugged on his hair hard enough to make Steve stand up, he found he was hard. He hadn’t realized it was happening, but looking down- he saw that they both were.
Billy slung a friendly arm around Steve’s shoulders and steered him out of the yard, away from the party. Towards his pretty car.
“King of the River of Beer and Sweat,” Steve laughed and he couldn’t tell if Billy was laughing with him or at him.
But he felt pretty damn comfortable with the whole arrangement when they tumbled into the Camaro together.
And he felt even more comfortable when they exchanged hands in each other’s pants and mingled their saliva even further.
And he had no answers, but a head full of cotton and a mouth full of Billy and he let himself drift. Down the River of Beer and Sweat.
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crescentmoonlupin · 3 months
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If you need help, I'm here to listen..
There are days that are easier than others. When you have depression, you tend to feel like the world is against you and it just feels like a constant battle that no matter how hard you fight, how much experience you have with it, it just never seems to be enough to throw at the problem. And of course, giving up is never ever an option cause once you do, the monster you are battling just gets bigger. Bigger to the point you just must live with the drooling, foaming beast.
I’ve had depression for a number of years, as of 2024, it’s been about 14 years since I was originally diagnosed, but about 17 since it first manifested itself within my mind. It's never been an easy beast to live with. I’ve tried destroying it by destroying myself. I held it down, but the bubbles never stopped coming up. I tried to drown it in sex, making it seem like the reason I was upset so much was because I was alone and needed the company to get me through, I cut myself so I could hold some sort of “control” over it but, of course that never works. Eventually it becomes an addiction that you don't realize you started, and it takes everything in you to stop. Years even.
To this day, I am still self-destructive. Some days, I wish I could still continue hurting myself, but I know its counterproductive, it’ll never solve anything. It just hurts everyone else who happens to catch it when the wounds are fresh. Cutting myself didn’t make me feel better in the sense I thought it would, it just gave me a false sense of control over something I didn’t have control over. The chemicals in my brain didn’t do what they were supposed to when they were supposed to, and I suffered the consequences.
I wanted to blame everyone else for my problems. My mother, my father, my stepparents. Sisters. Everyone who wasn’t me. “You made me do this!” I’d say, when really, I was the one who put the razor or knife to my skin and pulled. I made it count, I counted every mark, and it’s not a pretty number. Not only did I cut but I carved words into my skin, so I would remember why I did it in the first place. So many initials. Failure. Perfect. HIT ME! I’M NOTHING! Sorry :] Smile. And the list goes on from there. Now it’s just a bunch of scars.
I’m not ashamed of them, and I don’t really regret them, they’re part of me and it was what I thought I needed at the time, ultimately, I was wrong in the end, but teenagers never listen, do they?
I do wish I could go back though, and just talk to myself. Tell myself it does, eventually, gets better. That things do start going right, years down the road. That it’s not worth it to be so angry all the time, and to learn to love myself sooner so I didn’t have t struggle as badly as I am now at almost 30, because yes, we do make it past the age of 18, as surprising as that is for me to even believe to this day. Eventually we meet a man who loves us in his own special way, and we have the most beautiful son to raise together. And he loves that little boy as if he was made from his own blood. He reads him bedtime stories and helps him learn to walk. He teaches him to ride a bike and plays in his sandbox with him, the one he made him for his second birthday.
Things do get better, but you have to fall down so you can get back up, so you can grow up the way you need to, because it is necessary. Because as soon as you heard that little boy’s heartbeat for the first time, you know, you just knew, that everything was going to change and you knew that you would do anything for him, even if it meant changing everything so he could grow up better than you did. So, he can go farther than you ever got. So, you can make sure he is actually stable and doesn’t have to recover from his childhood. Make sure he is okay and knows he is heard.
I just hope I’m doing the right things when it comes to that little boy because I don’t know where I’d be or who I would be without him. There’re days where I struggle and all I want to do is to curl up into a ball and cry till I fall asleep. But I have this little boy watching me every day and I just have to keep going to make sure he has everything he needs to grow into a respectable human and a caring man. Fight for what’s right but know when to step back as well.
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writerof-thewoods · 10 months
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hihihi! if your requests are open, could you please do hades from hercules as a cg with a super sensitive little? thank you so so so much and i hope you have a lovely day!!!! 🩷🩷
Absolutely! I'm sorry this took so long, but I hope you like it!! :D
Caregiver! Hades Headcanons🔥💙 (with a sensitive little <3)
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-Protective. Like "won't let you out of his sight for even a minute" protective. It's not to be strict or hard on you, it's because the Underworld isn't safe.
-Honestly, he can be quite...scary at times. Intimidating at times yes, but when he gets mad, he gets mad.
-It's never really at you though. Mainly just the Fates, demons, gods, etc. Really anyone else who lives in the Underworld except for you.
-He tries not to lose his temper as much, especially when you're around. He has his moments sometimes, but he's working on it and reassures you that he's not upset with you.
-Aside from that, he adores having you around. He's not typically one for anything that isn't evil/cynical or associated with mortals, but you're the exception. He finds it fascinating and honestly endearing that you regress, although he'd never admit it.
-He already doesn't have a filter and isn't the most kid friendly. Because of this, he tries to watch what he says and does around you, but it's not easy.
-Despite his cold demeanor, he really does care. Especially when it comes to you and how you're feeling. Someone was mean or just an ass to you, he won't hesitate to smite them. Angry and just not sure how to feel? You can rage all you want, even at him. He encourages it! But, he makes sure you don't do too much that you end up hurting yourself.
-Isn't really strict on rules other than not to go anywhere without him. For obvious reasons. Other than that, most of them are just about taking care of yourself like remembering to drink water.
-So many dad jokes. (Never at your expense, shockingly enough.) They're not always funny, but you laugh nonetheless. He just wants to make you smile.
-Talks to you about everything. He doesn't mind if you don't respond or don't understand, it's just out of habit. (However, he does try other forms of communication when you're overwhelmed or nonverbal.)
-Doesn't really baby-talk at you. He talks to you the same as he would normally, just a lot nicer.
-"Look at that constellation! Do you know which one it is, Sunspot?" "P..pegasus..?" "You are learning! Good job kiddo!"
-Definitely uses his powers to his advantage. If you need a quiet place, want or want to go somewhere special, or if you just want to be with him, he'll do it in a heartbeat.
-Very gentle surprisingly. He knows there's a time and place for everything, so he tries to be softer when he can. Especially when you're going through it.
-"Hey hey...it's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of, I mean, other than myself, but you don't have to be scared of me. I'm here for you, kid. Do you wanna talk about it? Oh Sunspot...I'm sorry. That must've been really hard to deal with on your own, hasn't it?"
-When you want to be alone at night, you have your own bed and plenty of room, so he won't bother you. But most of the time, he falls asleep holding you. Not just for you, but because it comforts him to know you're there. He likes having someone there. Especially when that someone's you.
-As odd of a pair as you might be, an all-ruling god and a little, he wouldn't change it for the world. You make his days brighter and that means more to him than you could know.
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