this show has ruined me emotionally and i am okay with that

On Queerplatonic Relationships, From Someone Who’s Actually In One

I decided to crosspost this to this blog instead of my new one since this one has more of a followership. (Copypasta’d from my WP so people don’t have to click away from tumblr.) That’s how frustrated I am about all this. Anyway.

I originally wasn’t intending for this to be a long post but two thousand words later I realized that it is long, and rightfully so. This stuff is complicated, and there’s a lot that goes into it, and the people who don’t want to sit through it aren’t the people I’m trying to reach anyway. As always, I’m talking exclusively about American culture.

Because I know people will want to crawl up my ass and ask, I’ve been in a queerplatonic relationship for three years and known my partner for about fourteen years. We get a lot of questions about our relationship, both in and outside of the queer community, and I usually start out with “It’s easy to explain but difficult for people to understand.”

We both subscribe to a very broad definition of what a queerplatonic relationship is. There should be no romantic feelings between the people in the relationship, and there’s an element of commitment. Some QPRs have a sexual component, some don’t. (Friends with benefits are not automatically queerplatonic relationships, as I’ve seen posited.) Sometimes the people in a QPR are queer themselves, sometimes they’re not. Maybe one is but the other isn’t, maybe they don’t start out identifying as queer and then they do later, maybe not. To be quite frank, neither of us care, and neither should you.

If you’ve followed me for any length of time on pretty much any platform, you know I talk about moral purism and how deeply it’s ingrained in our culture, and how it’s driven and supported by capitalism—how capitalism demands and feeds our amatonormative society. If you haven’t experienced the joy of me screaming about capitalism, well, here we go.

The nuclear family model—two parents, living separately from extended family and raising their kids, probably both parents working but maybe just one—is new and supported and driven by capitalism. In most cultures, it’s common for extended families to live together and raise children as a team effort. When you have a family with a network of aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins all cooperating and sharing the labor and time investment of just existing, it’s a lot less of a financial disaster if someone gets sick or injured.

In a nuclear family, if Parent 1 gets injured and has a three month recovery time, all of a sudden they can’t contribute to family upkeep in terms of money they provide through work, or time that they usually invest in maintaining the home/children. Parent 2 can’t both work overtime and spend more time maintaining the house/family and then they fall behind on bills and into financial ruin, or Parent 1 pushes themselves to go back to work sooner and ends up with a chronic injury/illness because of it.

In an extended family model, if Parent 1 gets injured and has a three month recovery time, Aunt 1 and Cousin 2 start taking the kids some evenings and Cousin 3 groups the kids with their own, Uncles 2 and 3 take on a little more work to maintain the house(s), and Cousin 4 starts carpooling with Parent 2 to save on gas. Everyone invests a little more time and money and Parent 1 is able to rest and recover. Or maybe they can’t, maybe Parent 1 is disabled, but it’s still not the time/financial strain it would be if there was only one other person to take on more work.

In a nuclear family, every family needs to buy separate appliances, furniture, tools, etc. In an extended family, everyone trades the toolkit back and forth, your cousin gives you a couch they don’t need anymore, you borrow your aunt’s crockpot, your cousin comes over to fix your car. People relying on others outside of the person who’s meant to be their One True Love, isn’t good for capitalism. Capitalism doesn’t want you living with your friends and splitting rent, utilities, and groceries. Capitalism doesn’t want you getting your car fixed by your best friend’s brother. (You better have a receipt showing you didn’t have insurance because your car was in the shop.)

Kids that live with their parents into adulthood are ‘pathetic’, especially if that kid gets married. You better have your own insurance policy, you better have your own phone plan, you better buy your own house (why aren’t you all buying more houses), but wait, you can’t buy that house with a bunch of friends, what do you mean you’re not married or engaged to them? Oh, you are married but you’re just friends? That’s weird, why would you want to marry your friend, what happens when you meet someone you fall in love with? Don’t you want to wait for The One?

Are you sure you don’t want to wait for The One?

Your platonic relationships aren’t as important as your relationship with your (eventual) spouse, and your spouse better be the only person you have a romantic and sexual relationship with, because you must have both. Your spouse better also be your best friend, because everyone knows that the best married couples are people who’re ‘each others’ best friend’. You get to choose one person, and that person is your everything. The person you fall in love with will be the person you have sex with will be the person you get married to will be the person you buy a house with will be the person you have kids with, and you better do all those things and it better be in that order.

Capitalism says that your friendships are unimportant.

In order to understand my point about queerplatonic relationships, you need to understand how sincere I am when I say Fuck that.

My queerplatonic partner is my primary emotional relationship. We’ve known each other for over half our lives and we evolved into our QPR the way most do, from what I’ve seen; essentially we realized we were already in a QPR and found the term that described us. We made a conscious decision to commit and be partners to each other and to have as healthy a relationship as we can. We’re in sync 99% of the time and when we’re not, we talk things out. Our relationship is a lot of work because all relationships are work, and we happily devote ourselves to that. I’ve seen a recurrent theme that, somehow, QPRs are just so easy because… to be honest I don’t really understand why, I just know that that’s something I’ve seen a lot. I have a theory about people wanting a romantic relationship-lite, but that’s besides the point.

I’m a-spec, and I am (half-heartedly) seeking romantic/sexual partner(s). I’m not super into it, because of a variety of reasons, but mostly because it’s not an overriding concern. I already have the kind of emotionally supportive relationship I need to be a relatively well-adjusted person, I’m not exactly seeking another one. Do I want a romantic and/or sexual partner? Sure, I also would like a committed D/s relationship, since I’m talking about it. Do I need a romantic/sexual partner? Nope.

One of the reasons I’m not into looking is because the people I’ve talked to are not okay with the concept of coming in “second place” to what they see as an inferior relationship. Even the poly people I’ve talked to are disinterested once I’ve made it clear that my queerplatonic partner is going to be equally important to any romantic/sexual partner(s) that I have.

And that, that is one of the big reasons why I take issue with a-spec people saying that only a-spec people can have queerplatonic relationships.

There seems to be this weird misconception that non a-spec people don’t suffer the same kind of backlash from being in a QPR as an a-spec person? Which… that seems unlikely. I didn’t publicly identify as gray/demi-ace when my partner and I first defined our relationship as a QPR, and I still got the same rude, horrible questions then as I do now, and that’s only assuming that every discussion about my QPR involves me being a-spec, which they don’t. I’m actually way more open about being bisexual than I am about being a-spec.

When society devalues platonic relationships, everyone suffers. Because society devalues platonic relationships, I continually have to justify my relationship to people who think I’m settling or suffering or ‘not getting my needs met.’ Because society devalues platonic relationships, people are forced to make one person their only person, their everything. People are forced to constrain themselves to tiny support groups and networks and suffer the monetary, physical, and mental consequences that come from having limited support networks. Our society is chronically afraid of platonic physical affection and so sexualizes everything. There are huge swathes of the population who don’t know that not choosing a One True Love is even an option and so force themselves into boxes that don’t match what they feel.

In light of all of that, why the actual hell would I ever tell someone “You’re not allowed to call your relationship a queerplatonic one because you haven’t suffered exactly the same way I have”? Why would I ever deny someone else the solace I’ve found in my own queerplatonic relationship?

And there are all kinds of people who want to be all “Well women with really close friendships don’t have queerplatonic relationships because they’re just friendships!” And like, way to miss the point. You’re still devaluing platonic relationships! A friendship isn’t just anything. My partner and I didn’t travel to a mystical site and sacrifice an animal under a blood moon to level up into a queerplatonic relationship. We started texting a lot, got closer, both discovered that queerplatonic relationships exist, circled the definition for like six months and then finally said “Yep, we’re in a queerplatonic relationship.” And since then, we’ve put a lot of time and effort and commitment into our relationship and consider and call each other partner. I go over this stuff with my mom and sister until they understand and I talk things out with them and my partner and we both put a lot of fucking effort into our relationship.

My mom has two really good friends she’s known since they were all ten years old, and maybe one day she and they will decide to define their relationships as queerplatonic relationships. Maybe if men were allowed to have close platonic relationships (and yes I know this is edging in toxic masculinity which I’m not here for today), they’d be better able to emotionally weather the shit that happens in their lives and they wouldn’t be so terrified of physical comfort. Maybe if people were allowed to say that their close friendships are as important as their romantic/sexual relationships, there wouldn’t be all this bullshit friction over making one person be the receptacle for all their emotional, sexual, and romantic baggage.

Confining queerplatonic relationships to an aro-only phenomenon is needlessly cruel and also exclusivizes something that’s scarce enough as it is. And all this effort to make queerplatonic relationships and ‘attraction’ some extra other thing than ‘just’ friendship misses the point of something we should all be working on. The point of being in a queerplatonic relationship isn’t to have some special relationship other people don’t have access to, that’s somehow better than ‘just’ friendship. There’s a very “Well if anyone could say they’re in a queerplatonic relationship then everyone would be in queerplatonic relationships!” feel to it all, to which I say… Okay? Like? Why would it be a bad thing if queerplatonic relationships were really common? Because that seems to be the logical end to the aros-only train of thought. I think it’d be pretty damn cool if queerplatonic relationships were common. For one, I’d stop having to have a Socratic seminar every time I mention I’m in one.

Not to mention that it is breathtakingly hypocritical for a-spec people to be saying “You’re not X enough for Y” considering the bullshit we get for not being queer enough for the queer community. And you know, that’s really what this whole thing comes down to. It makes sense to want to be selfish about something that gives you comfort, makes sense to want to protect it. But denying non-a-specs from labeling their queerplatonic relationships as such is the actual spirit of cutting off your nose to spite your face.

Love Hate Relationship

One Shot

Description: Jungkook was a horrible boyfriend to you. He was mean not very caring but good at pleasing you.You were pretty sure he didn’t give a fuck about you, but when you cheated on him, things turned out to be different.

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Cound: 4200k

Warnings: Rough sex, Disgrading names, Dom!Jungkook, Thigh riding,  just filth.


A/N: A short but very effective smutty smut with our Maknae on the streets,God in the sheets.

“Jungkook, I am going home!” You said sighing out loud in annoyance. It’s been four hours since you came over, thinking you’d fuck but you ended up watching him play some game on his computer.

“Fucking stay here and shut up Y/N, it’s important.” He just cussed out, his eyes never leaving the monitor. Jungkook was a fucking piece of shit who treated you badly but his sex game was on point. And before anyone could judge you, it was not just the sex, he was very rarely not rude to you, and when he wasn’t, he was very likable. You were dating him for two years and you didn’t feel like leaving him despite his attitude. You couldn’t imagine what life would be without him so you chose to just ignore his arogance and put up with his shit as soon as he gives you a good dick.But lately, things were getting out of hands. He’d call you to come over, then make you wait for hours for him to come back from his soccer practise, he wouldn’t want to go out, he wouldn’t fuck you, he was really giving you nothing. You were suspecting him in cheating, but when you went through his phone you couldn’t find anything, when you went to his practises, he wouldn’t do anything suspicious. Yes, Jungkook was giving you his phone the moment you wanted it, that’s one of the few good things for you, he wouldn’t keep it in secret, which led your suspicious past.

You rolled your eyes. This was the third time he said that since you were here. Usually you’d just watch some drama on his TV or go talk to his roommate Taehyung who was way kinder than him, but today you were not in the mood.You had a bad day at work and you needed his comfort, you needed him to be gentle to hug you, kiss you and fuck you gently.That’s exactly what you needed but he didn’t seem like he was going to give it to you anytime soon, so you just stood up and walked towards him. “I am leaving. Play your stupid game, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hissed as you took your bag and leaned closer to him. He tilted his face towards you, trying his best to look at the screen, as he pouted his lips which initiated a kiss. You gave him a peck as he mummbled an “Okay babe,” before returning his attention towards the screen.

You gave him a look before leaving, and even though it lasted a second, hundreds of thoughts passed right through your mind.Yes, you were basically living with him, you were used to his presence, but yet you felt so far away from him, and that didn’t seem to be changing anytime soon. You had good moments but most of them were in the bed, when you two had sex. That’s the only time he showed any interest in you, the only time he looked at you like you were a goddess, and thanks to god that he made you beautiful and sexy. Jungkook was a very very attractive man, he had killer body, he had a nice voice, he had soft lips, everything from his outside was the bomb. People who didn’t know how things between you stood, would say you were the best couple and the hottest couple ever. They’d ship you two hard. And you were, but just in bed. Jungkook was a cold hearted motherfucker and you hated him for that. From the outside he was glowing but he was really rotten from the inside.

“Fucking bastard.” You hissed as soon as you closed the door. “I’ll just leave your pathetic ass if you keep this up.” You continued talking to yourself, letting your anger out in the elevator.You had enough of his shit, and attitude and you were actually considering on leaving him. The thing was that he ruined you emotionally, and leaving him wouldn’t get him to care, you thought. Maybe you had to do something nastier to make him hurt atleast a bit of the pain you had to endure trough those 2 years. All the crying nights, due to his lack of interest in you, all the time he cussed at you, everything you had to endure. You wanted to make him feel hurt atleast for a bit, just to give him a taste of what real pain felt like.

A few days has passed since the last time you saw Jungkook. You were not mad at him anymore, you were more ignorant. You really did have enough of his shit, and you decided to not ruin yourself over him anymore, all you needed was a little push to do the thing you deep down wanted to do, for a while now. You got a call on the morning from Jungkook, him inviting you over tonight. You agreed ofcourse, you missed him, and to be more exact you missed his dick. All you wanted to do today is go to his place, have sex with him and consider if you were going to leave him finally. But first, you needed to get your needs fulfilled.

The day went by fast because your work was stressfull today too. You worked in a company where you had to do so much paperwork, it made your head spin. You hated your job but it paid really well so you didn’t have that much of a choice. Your boss would always make you do extra work, because he tried hitting on you and when you rejected him, he couldn’t take it, so he tried his best to make your life there miserable as fuck. You had woken up early and you were working all day so you were definitely tired. You dragged yourself up the stairs of his apartment complex because the elevator was out of order and you had to walk up 10 floors. Of course it took you a while since you were tired enough. When you reached his apartment you put your keys out and let yourself in, because Jungkook would never come welcome you.

You sighed as you took your heels off, and undid a button or two of your white shirt, that was tucked in your black skin tight skirt. You threw your beg on the couch, and realised that the apartment was pretty quiet and dark. Usually Jungkook would be yelling at the computer or his music would be banging as he did his push-ups or some shit, but today it was unusally quiet. You looked around, and just when you were about to enter his room, your phone started ringing and his name popped up,


“Where are you?” Jungkook spoke.

“I was just about to go into your room, where are you?”

“Oh damn. Well I am going to be late, you can wait or you could go home because I don’t know how long it would take.”

You rolled your eyes, as you breathed out in annoyance, “Jungkook.. we haven’t seen eachother in days, I need to see you today. Don’t you get that?”

“Really?” He teased , which annoyed me ten times more but atleast you knew we were going to fuck, when he came back, he was in the mood.

“I need your bomb ass dick.” You chuckled.

“Atleast two hours Y/N , sorry.”

“Fuck your two hours, I’d just get myself off in your damn bed then!” Too long, I’d be sleeping in two hours.

“Well, do as you wish, I can’t do shit right now.”

“Fuck you Jungkook.” You yelled.

“Yea yea, I gotta go now. Bye.” He rushed you as he hung up on you, and you swear you wanted to throw you phone at the ground in annoyance.

You heard a door open as you saw Taehyung, Jungkook’s roommate exiting his room. You snapped your eyes at his direction as he froze on his place, staring at you confusingly. You smirked as you walked towards him. And that when you made the mistake.A mistake or not you didn’t even feel sorry when you fucked Taehyung against his door. It was that little push you needed to figure out what to do next. That same night, after you had a quick sex with Taehyung, Jungkook didn’t even came home, so you left after getting what you came.

The next day you were once again in Jungkook’s place but this time he was home and again, he was playing his games like usual. You stared at him the whole time wondering how to tell him what you needed to tell him, or if you should just break up. Your tried to catch his attention once or twice as you kissed his neck  but he shrugged it off everytime. You breathed out as you stood up and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Jungkook,” you started but he didn’t even acknowleadged you, so you decided that he probably wouldn’t care anyway, so you just spat it out, “I fucked Taehyung yesterday.”

Jungkook stil didn’t move, but you realise he actually, didn’t move. His hands were still, his character was getting attacked as Jungkook just stared at the screen for what seemed like a age. He then slowly spun on his chair around so he could face you, with an expression you had never seen. His eyes were dark, his hands were holding the chair’s arm, like he was about to break them, and more importantly he didn’t seem to give a fuck about his game, which is what shocked you the most. You gulped hard, suddenly feeling nervous due to the lack of response from Jungkook and his intense glare at you, when you finally heard him speak,

“What did you say?”

The shock and anger were more than visible in his eyes. They grew a tone darker, his lips went dry and more importantly his game that was going, and he was actually dying in it just stayed at the background, completely ignored. His eyes were piercing yours and you felt a bit uneasy, but then you reminded yourself why you did what you did.

“It’s all your fault! I am a human being Jungkook, you should have treated me like one!” You raised your hands in the air in defense, getting nervous and angry at the same time. Jungkook’s eyes only grew darker and scarier, he pursed his lips in a thin line, forming a disgust on his face.He stared at your for a second that seemed like a year to you, as you began sweating in anticipation of his answer.

Suddenly Jungkook jumped up from the chair, making you jump in your place, as he grabbed both of your shoulders and pushed you against the door so hard, you whinced in pain, knowing if he was just a bit harded he would have broken a bone in your spine. Even thou you whinced in pain, squeezing your eyes shut both from pain and fear of what he’d do next, you heard him speak, but his voice was deeper than the devil, you could hear the spite and anger in his low husky tone,

“You horny slut,” he began as you slowly opened your eyes and looked at him, to see him actually smirking, even thou it was a twisted smirk that was scaring the shit out of you, “you deserve to be kicked out like the fucking bitch you are, but I am not that rude,” yea sure, you thought.

“No, you are even more rude,” you spoke back, which wasn’t much to his liking at the moment.

“Shut the fuck up,” he began as his left hand let go of your arm and wrapped around your throat but instead of choking you, like you thought he would do, he just held you gently in place, “I’m going to teach you a lesson, for cheating on your boyfriend.”

He was beyond mad. You could see that.Seeing him flip like, meant like he cared about you, which made your heart flutter. So he did give a fuck about you and who you fuck, and that formed a little smile on your face. He was so sexy at the moment that you couldn’t refuse looking at him. You hoped he’d tie you up and fuck you like a little bad bitch,but little did you know.

“Are you jealous?” You raised your hand and put in on the side of his neck, slightly pulling him closer to you.He left out a chuckle before he slightly tightened the grip on your throat,“I am beyond furious, I am ready to go to the other room and beat Taehyung to death, but it’s not his fault that you are a little, needy, horny bitch.” he moved closer to your face, his lips barely touching yours as he spoke,“ I want to dump your trashy ass for what you did, but that pussy is mine and only mine, it can never be anyone else’s, do you understand that bitch?”

You nodded eagerly, feeling the arousal you were feeling for a while,water the thin material of your panties.“Yes , yes Jungkook, it’s only yours!” you felt defeated as you felt yourself needy for his touch, for his cock. You felt his cologne hitting you and it almost made your head spin in delight. Jungkook’s scent was something you would never be over at. You felt his breathing in your face, and it was the hottest thing ever. Since he didn’t say anything you leaned in and locked your lips with his but in a response he pushed your throat back, pulling you away from him,“Fuck no. You don’t get to kiss me now, get on your fucking knees.” he ordered as his hand traveled to the back of your hair as he got a grip of your hair, and forced you to go down on your knees.

“Suck my cock, like it’s the last time you’ll get the chance,” he ordered and you nodded, immediately grabbing the hem of his shorts and boxers, as you took his dick out and began leaving worshiping kisses all over his length. It was easy for you because he was already hard, Jungkook was always hard for you, which boosted your ego to the extreme.Jungkook pulled you head backwards as your brought your eyes up to his,“Don’t fucking tease me, suck!” he ordered as he pushed your head closer to his dick, as you wasted no time, being the needy slut you were, you immediately opened your mouth and bobbed down as much as you could. Jungkook’s dick was pretty big so you were not able to take it all in but you took most of it. You heard Jungkook moan when his head hit the back of your throat, and his sinful moan made you so wet you thougth you were already dripping to the floor.

You slowly proped up your head before you slided back down as much as you could. You began sucking his dick in a steady pace, licking it, your saliva running down his length. He hissed and squeezed your hair when he felt really good, and every moan that escaped his mouth made you hornier and hornier, “Fuck, just like that baby, suck my cock,” Jungkook hissed, and upon hearing him use that gentle word for you, you moaned on his dick,which made him twitch in pleasure. He slowly slided his hand to the sides of your neck and you already knew what he was about to do, so you opened your mouth as much as you could, as Jungkook began thrusting his hips back and forth, his head hitting the back of your neck, making you and him moan loudly with each trust.

You had your hands on his firm thighs that were beyond flexed at the moment, and you were dying to ride them at the moment. His thrust became faster and rougher as you knew he was about to cum any second.When you needed to take a breath you dug your nails in his thighs, as he came in your mouth immediately, while pulling his dick out. He waited for every drop of cum to end in your mouth as he smirked, “Swallow.” and you did as you were told. Your mouth was abused and red, your lips trippled their normal size, as Jungkook put his dick back in his pants and placed his hand under your chin, holding it up so he could look you in the eyes as he spoke, “You look so hot after I fucked your mouth, I’d cum on your face if I could. Get up, we are not done!” He said, as you let go of his thighs and proped up on your legs as they wobbled at the weakness of your knees.

He grabbed your arm for support or whatever, as he pulled you to the bed, where he sat and forced you down on his lap. The moment you sat, you jumped on him, kissing his mouth like crazy, immediately rubbing your drenched pussy against his bulge. He kissed you for a second before pulling away smirking,“Slow down, you are –”

“Please Jungkook, kiss me, touch me, fuck me!I need you so bad!” You bascially cried out loud in his face, not letting go of you hold of him , at the back of his neck. Jungkook smirked as he placed his hand over your clothed pussy and felt how wet you were immediately ,“Fuck you are dripping,” he commented as he slowly rubbed your slit with two fingers, making you moan, before he grabbed your waist and adjusted you so you were sitting on his thigh as he spoke, “Come on, cum on my thigh and if I like it I may fuck you.”

I closed your eyes as you hips rolled up his thigh as he flexed it and increased your sensation as you immediately let out a needy moan of his name, and began rubbing yourself against him, moaning every two seconds. He placed his hands on your ass as he gave it a firm squeeze before he helped your grind on his thigh, as he pushed you even further to the naked skin on his thighs, since his shorts went up to his crotch almost. You could feel his skin burning in hear, and with the heat of your drenched pussy you were so near to cumming you could feel it. You burried your face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck, when you kept moaning and panting his name, your hips never stopping grinding.

“Fuck, you sound so needy.. you fucking cunt, you are dying for me to fuck you, aren’t you?” He spoke as you cried out a muffed “yes” and he chuckled, tightening the grip on your ass.You felt the wave hitting you as you whined loudly, “I’m cumming, oh my god, I am..” as you felt it hit you like a storm, wetting your pantied to the point were they were more than dripping, as you felt how your fluids leaked down on Jungkook’s thigh to the soft material of his sheets.

You stood there for a brief second breathing heavily, trying to collect your thoughts as much as you could. Just then you felt Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist as he actually hugged you. Your eyes widened as you felt him hugging you, since you couldn’t remember the last time he even hugged you as you immediealy  spoke, “I love you, you fucking bastard, I fucking love you.” As you hugged him back even tighter.

“I know,” he responded quietly, which to you meant he loved you too, because he’d never tell you that anyway so you smiled, as you felt him standing up a bit before he turned around and threw you on the bed, immediately getting himself between your legs, “One "I love you” won’t cut it thou.“ he said in a serious tone, as he grabbed your panties and basically ripped them off of your legs, as he placed one of his fingers inside of you immediately, as you grabbed the sheets in response, moaning out loud. "Nah, scratch that.” he spoke , as you felt him taking out his finger, and before you could ask what was he doing, you felt him pushing his dick inside of you to the fullest, moving your whole body upwards as he settled himself inside of you. Both of you moaned at the feeling, as Jungkook placed both of his hands by the sides of your head for support as he fixated his eyes on yours, and began rolling his hips in and out of you slowly but deeply.

You stared at him, your mouth constantly open due to the strong feeling of joy you felt between your legs, but his piercing eyes were arousing you even more. He was staring at you with a different stare, a hungry yet apologetic look, and you knew he was upset you cheated on him,but now, you were fnally upset and actually sorry too. You hated that you did what you did, but in the end maybe that was the turning point your relationship had to meet. You wrapped your arms around his head again pulling him in for a kiss. A kiss, he finally responded to. His hips began thrusting harder into you, the hunry kiss lighting both of you on fire, it was a kiss like never before, it was a kiss like the one you’d have when you haven’t been intimate for weeks, it was a “I fucking missed you kiss” and it was beyond amazing.

When your lips finally parted Jungkook  panting , and you breathing hard, his tempo was getting sloppier faster and harder, as you knew his release was coming, but so did yours. “Jungkook, yes, just like that!” you moaned out loud ,as he hissed in response. Suddenly he pulled himself out, and before you could ask why, he spun you around, your face now facing the bed, as he lifted up your hips and slammed his cock in you from behind. You basically yelled at how fast and rough he thrusted, and you were sure the whole building fucking heard you yelling.

“Shut the fuck up, you are gonna wake my neighbours,” Jungkook hissed as he held your hips and thrusted in you harder and harder. You could feel your orgasm knocking on the door again, and you felt Jungkook getting even harder and bigger and you knew he was about to cum any second. You felt him hovering over your back, as he grabbed your hair and pulled your hair backwards, as he spoke into your ear in a low and seductive voice, “Come on baby girl, cum all over my cock.” which was more than enought to push you over the edge. You came with a loud whine of his name , as he kept thrusting inside of you until he came too , filling you up to the fullest with his cum.

A few seconds later you both collapsed on the matress, trying your best to collect your breaths. None of you spoke for a minute or two, as you slowly propped up and laid on top of Jungkook, “Baby-,” you began but you were quickly cut off ,as Jungkook spun around making you the one on the bottom, as he held your wrists to the sides of your head, pinning them down to the matress as he spoke in his usual but still breathless voice,

“You are only mine, is that clear enough Y/N?”

“Yes,” you nodded as you smiled,

“If you ever do that again, I’ll make you regret it, and I won’t be this gentle.”

“Never again.” You shook your head, the smile on your face growing bigger.

Jungkook’s serious face suddenly softened as he let out a barely visible smile, but you caught it immediately, and it made your heart melt, Jungkook rarely smiled at you and this time you saw it as clear as water. He slowly collapsed on you again, letting out a deep sigh in the crook of your neck, before rolling to the side next to you,

“I probably died 25 times , but atleast it was worthy. I had to claim back what’s mine.” He spoke as you snapped your head at him, grinning like a kid. You stared at him for a second before , shooting a question you rarely asked but never got the answer, “Jungkook, do you love me?”

Jungkook froze upon hearing your question, his eyes fixated on the ceiling as he remained silent for a while. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, your whole body anticipating the answer that you so much wanted to hear, even thou a big part of you knew it was not going to work again. You used that time, after an amazing sex like that to bring him to say it but he’d never fall for it, he’d just brush the question off, that’s why the next two words made your heart stop,

“I do.”

The Weekend

STEVE ROGERS x Plus Size reader

Summary: Steve has been having an affair with the reader

warnings: talks of cheating, cursing 

a/n: I mostly wrote this because of the song The Weekend. I’m sorry if you aren’t a big fan of the topic, neither am I but this particular story had been bothering me for awhile so I had to write it out. I will see you all again in November. thank you once again for reading.

Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

He only came around during the weekends. Friday nights he was on your front doorsteps. You knew what he wanted and you happily gave it to him; no questions asked. The second you opened your front door he’d have you pinned against the wall kissing you. None of your past lovers ever made you feel the way Steve Rogers made you feel. They never gave you half the pleasure he could give you. So, you let him. You let him use you and ruin you in every way possible. Day and night. Until Sunday morning rolled around and he had to go back to his perfect life again. 

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Jason Todd/Red Hood X Reader- Feather

Also has a bit of Poison Ivy X Reader

Warning: Suicide in general, angst, swearing, mentions of mmuuurrddeerr

Clutching onto your armored legs, you watched Gotham from afar.  Your chin rested on your knees, aching from the knee pads digging into your skin.  You were sure that your lip was still bleeding from biting at the chapped sections, but you couldn’t care.  He was gone, he left you alone in this unforgiving world.  You finally understood how the world worked, giving you something to love and hold on to until it’s torn away from you.  Bruce was gone, heading to some event to deal with the man that killed him.  Thinking of his name made you want to puke.  Bruce wasn’t going to kill him, you knew that, and then he was going to be sent to Arkham.  He would escape again, kill again, and be captured again.  It was a deadly game of cat and mouse you had involved yourself in, and death is the penalty for losing.

Ripping your domino mask off, you tossed it behind you, tired of containing your tears.  Burying your head in between your knees, you finally allowed yourself to cry.  No one was around to see  you like this, to treat you like a fragile piece of glass.  You had left Alfred alone after Bruce brought his body back, informing you that he was dead.  You blamed yourself for allowing him to leave on his own.  If you just could have convinced him to let you come with him, he wouldn’t be dead, or at least you wouldn’t be alive.  With just a push off of the edge, you could end it now, ending all of the pain and suffering.  You wouldn’t have to feel this way, face the monster that killed him, or face any of the monsters that you faced on a nightly basis.

Wiping your eyes, you glanced down, sucking a shallow breath.  Placing your gloved hands on the edge, you sucked in a breath and leaned forward, ready to let it all go, to see Jason again.  Just as you were about to fall, something pulled you away from the ledge.  Screaming, you clawed at whatever was pulling you away, sobbing as you were dragged to the middle of the roof.  

“No!” you sobbed, your tears blurring your vision.  “Please, don’t!”

You were placed on the ground, but you could still feel the pressure on your abdomen.  Wrapping your arms around yourself, you curled into yourself, your body shaking from your sobs.  You felt the pressure go away, but it was replaced by arms wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you into a chest.

“Why did you do that?” you asked the person, looking up with tears in your eyes.  “I can’t live without him.”

“Who?” a familiar female voice asked softly, her hand running through your hair.

“Jason,” you sobbed, saying his name for the first time in days.  “He’s gone.  He killed him.”

Exhaling a shaky breath, you looked over to see red overlapping with green.  Blinking the tears away, you noticed that the red was hair and the green was skin and plants.  Looking up, you saw Poison Ivy’s face.

“Who killed Jason?” she asked, still running her fingers through your hair.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and leaned your head against her, not able to say his name, “Him, the clown.”

She sucked in a breath, “Joker?”

You flinched at the name, “Yes.”

“Why would you end your life because of his death?” Ivy asked you, making you have eye contact with her.  “Instead of ending the pain, use it against those who have wronged you.”

“How?” you asked her, “How can I?  Batman-”

“Batman is not in charge of your life or opinions,” she interrupted you.  “He is your guardian, but where is he now?”

“Not here,” you replied quietly, “but how can I trust you?  You’re supposed to be the villain.”

“I’m trying to do the same thing you’ll be doing,” Ivy said calmly, tracing her finger across your jawline.  “I’m trying to avenge the things that I love.  Are you going to avenge Jason?”

“I want to,” you admitted, “but what about Batman?  He’ll find me and take me home, I can’t let him ruin my chance to… my chance to avenge him.”

“I’ll help you,” she said, “but it will take time.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around her.  “Thank you for saving me.”

“I couldn’t let a precious flower like you wilt away.”


Sitting on the same ledge, you reminisced that moment when Ivy had saved you five years prior.  You were lucky that she was there, or else you’d be buried six feet under decomposing in a box.  After that night, you were able to learn more from her than you ever have from Bruce.  She provided you with her knowledge of plants, chemicals, and connections in the underground.  Now you were back here, you wondered if Jason would approve of the person you became.  He would probably smack you over the head, but this was more for you than it was for him.  You needed the closure, the relief, and Joker’s head mounted on a stick for all to see.  That monster had done enough damage to you and the world without any permanent punishment except a guaranteed cell in Arkham and the amount of years he’d be stuffed in there.

“Hiya, (Y/N/N)!”

“Hi, Harley,” you greeted her, not removing your eyes from the view, “what brings you here?”

“Red was wonderin’ where you were,” she answered, plopping down next to you.  “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sighed, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath.  “I just needed somewhere quiet.”

“This is the spot, isn’t it?” Harley asked, receiving a nod from you.  “Why did you pick here of all places?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, looking over to her.  “I guess I just needed to be here one last time before I start doing this again, what I gave up when I left home.”

“Batsy asked about you, y’know,” she said, swinging her legs.  “He wanted to know if you were okay and where you were.  I don’t know how he found out that you were still here, but he still cares about you.”

“I know that,” you stated.  “We have different ways of coping, and mine was excluding him from my life.  I was sixteen when he died, Harley, what could I have done?  I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“I know how you feel,” Harley said quietly, smiling lightly.  “Red has a pretty weird habit of collecting emotionally compromised people, huh?”

You chuckled, “I guess she does.”

“Are ya really gonna kill him?” she asked softly.

“I’m going to do my best,” you answered honestly.

She nodded, turning her head to look at the city, “I used to have his name all over me, both in tattoos and the scars.  I thought I loved him, but Red showed me what love really is.  She took you in like she took me in, a lost soul with a broken heart.”

“Do you still love him?” you asked her.

“Sometimes,” Harley replied, “but then I remember Red and how much I love her.”

“You think I’ll ever find someone else like you did?”

“I’m positive you will.”


“What the hell do you mean?!” Jason shouted at Bruce, pointing a finger at him.  “You’re telling me (Y/N) disappeared the day I died, and you couldn’t kill the Joker?  Wow, isn’t my undead life wonderful?!”

“(Y/N) didn’t disappear,” Bruce sighed, placing his cowl down, “she’s still in Gotham.  After I told her you died, (Y/N) left and didn’t come back.”

“Why didn’t you get her back?” Jason asked, tossing his helmet to the side.  “You let my (Y/N) leave the manor after news like that?!  You just let (Y/N) go and expected her to live her life?!  She could have jumped off the tallest building she could find after hearing I died!”

“(Y/N) has been living with Ivy for the past five years!” Bruce shouted, instantly silencing Jason.  “I didn’t try hard enough to be there for (Y/N), and she left.”

“Screw this!” Jason yelled, picking his helmet off from the ground and walking away.  “I’m finding (Y/N).”

“(Y/N) might not be the person you loved five years ago, Jason,” Bruce said, making Jason stop.

“I’m not the person I was either.”


“Are you sure you want to do this, (Y/N)?” Pamela asked you, holding your mask in her hands.

“I am sure, Pammie,” you replied, grasping your mask.  “I’m not going to kill him tonight, something like this needs to be planned.  I can’t go in there guns blazing even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t want to lose you, my little flower,” she said, moving a piece of your hair away from your face.  “There are more threats in Gotham than that psychotic clown.”

You nodded, hugging her, “I know.”

“Please be careful,” she whispered.

“I will,” you promised, releasing Pammie from the hug.  “Are we still having a movie marathon tomorrow?”

Pammie nodded, “Yes.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss that,” you said, giving her a small smile before climbing out of the window and grappling away.

You grappled to the nearest building and landed, sliding on the gravel.  Sighing, you never thought you’d miss the feeling of flying through the air with the wind brushing your face.  Looking around, you assessed where you were in the city and guessed that it would take twenty five minutes to reach Joker’s current hideout.  You hadn’t seen him in years, Pammie and Harley made sure of it, but you did your research during your stay with them.  Taking in a deep breath, you ran off the roof and shot your grappling hook, landing on the next roof easily.  You repeated that, moving from building to building until you your line was cut, forcing you to roll onto the building under you.  You rolled on the gravel and twisted your body, the momentum allowing you to land on your feet.  

“Holy shit,” you whispered, quickly backing away when you saw Red Hood swinging your way.  

Running to the other side of the building, you tried to flee, but the hook wrapping around your waist prevented you from reaching the edge.  He pulled the cord, forcing you off of your feet.  You landed on your back, groaning in pain.  Your arms were secured to your sides, preventing you from getting up without rolling around like a bug on its back.  You watched as he walked around you and crouched down, his hand still gripping the cord that was secured around you.

“I can’t believe it’s you, (Y/N),” he said, instantly making you confused.

“Who the hell are you?” you growled, trying to loosen the rope around you.

“Jason,” he replied, “Jason Todd.”

“Is this supposed to be funny?” you deadpanned, scowling at him.

“Not at all,” Red Hood said, pulling his helmet off.  “Just like how being murdered by Joker isn’t funny at all, despite the laughs he had.”

“Death is not a fun thing to laugh about,” you said, gasping when he grabbed the front of your armor and pulled you closer.  “What are doing?”

“You have a tattoo behind your left ear, a red, green and yellow feather with my name as the middle part of it,” he said, poking the back of your ear.  “I have a bird’s silhouette sitting on your name as a branch.  We got the tattoos for your sixteenth birthday while Bruce and Alfred were too busy to notice us slip away from your party.”

You laughed lightly, “Where’d we get the cash?  What tattoo parlor did we go to?”

“We opened Bruce’s present early,” he answered, “which was about one hundred bucks.  We went to Gotham’s Ink, and after that we spent the rest of the money on milkshakes.”

“How are you alive?” you asked Jason.

“The Lazarus Pit,” Jason replied, removing the cord from you, “or that’s what I’ve been told.”

“I thought Bruce sealed all of them,” you said, taking the hand Jason provided.

“Apparently not all of them,” he added, pulling you up against him.

“I’m glad he didn’t,”  you whispered, poking his cheek.  “You scared the shit out of me, asshole.”

“No make up sex then?” he asked, chuckling when you punched his shoulder.  “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I will knock you out.”

Rebel Without a Cause

Here is a fic I wrote to go with my Rebel! Eddie HC. I plan on writing more one shots like this and put them in a collection on here and AO3. Also I am trying to get back into writing and if you have any pointers feel free to message me.

Disclaimer I do not own these characters or the story of It

Eddie paced around the room back and forth, going between states of pure rage and utter despair. After the fight with Pennywise he had told the Losers that his mom had been lying to him his whole life. That his medication were all gazebos (Ben tried to tell him they were called placebos but he was too mad to listen) and that he had never actually been a sickly kid.

“I-I-I JUST CANT BELIEVE SHE WOULD LIE LIKE THAT TO ME!” Eddie screamed in a fit of rage turning toward Beverly and Richie, then went back to pacing. They had gone back to Richie’s house because they knew his parents wouldn’t bother them and Bev wasn’t quite ready to go back to her empty home. “Like, she’s, she’s, my mom ya know.” He turned back towards Richie and Bev, tears starting to roll down his face, clinging tightly together in thick quiet streams. “She is supposed t-t-to love me. To help me gro-grow,” He choked back a sob trying to at least get the words out from the open vent that his mind had turned into. “and help me learn, not lie to me.” At the last word he managed before he fell to his knees, hitting the carpeted ground so hard that Richie was sure he would bruise.

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Alright, so allow me to put forward a really self-indulgent idea for everyone involving the Office AU. 

After many late evenings finishing projects, after many office parties and weathering crisis’ together, you are now very good friends with CEO Noctis, the the rest of the Chocobro execs.

One day, they as really good friends of yours, decide they want you to have a great time after working so hard for the company. Like, you need a night out or something, right? Some genius Prompto decides that you need to go on a date and convinces the others of the same thing. So after some rigorous searching of their own, they set you up on a blind date with A Person.

Of course you think this is weird as hell, but you agree, you need a night out and the guys have gone through this trouble of setting up this date, so okay. You’re gonna go out for your sake, for their sake. I mean, it’ll be a good time right?

It would in fact, not be a good time.

Let me tell you all about:

That One Bad Date (‘You had ONE job, guys!’)

Originally posted by elliejoys

i.e the time the Chocobros were meant to save you from a bad date, but decided to fuck shit up for their own amusement, to establish dominance, to be shits.

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anonymous asked:

Jimon prompt: "Run away with me."

Notes: This turned into 2500 words of I don’t even know what even….

From This List


It’s taken a lot of malling over and really intensive hand on action—You know like Simon sweeping slick fingers over Jace’s insane six pack, and caressing his perfectly rounded ass for minutes on end—like seriously what even? Does angel blood like automatically ensure that you’re otherworldly gorgeous or something? Because totally unfair for Simon and all the other lowly mortals—But any how, all  of that hard work has lead to Simon coming to the conclusion that Jace is most definitely the secret love child of James Dean—with that slicked back hair and his leather jacket that moves his shoulders just right—and Captain America himself, you know cause he’s constantly permeating  superhero cockiness and has these eyes that fucking glide over Simon with a hunger that makes Simon’s skin prickle. Jace  looks at him as if they were in the same league, hell like they were even playing the same sport.  As if Jace was not in the baseball majors while Simon was warming the benches for some random ass curling team—Hell do curling teams  even have enough people to warrant  benches? And does New York even have a curling division, because no way in hell is Simon moving. He’s just got on good footing with Raphael’s clan, and has a sweet crib with Magnus—even if Simon suspects Magnus would really appreciate the sudden increase of privacy  so to be as loud as he’d like with Alec—who’s surprisingly—

No, wait! Hold up!  Simon is totally getting off track.

The point is that Jace looks like half leather bound bad boy and every kid’s envision of a superhero—While simultaneously being a secret dork who loves comics almost as much as Simon, and is super obsessed with counting his calories and having a minimal of three hours cardio every day. (Which actually ends up being quite fun since he’s begrudgingly conceded that Simon’s form of exercise  would just have to do.)

Speaking of…

“I’m…gonna…be late,” Jace pants out, punctuating each breathless word with another kiss along Simon’s collar bone.

“Hmmm, c’mon dude—ooo,” Simon let’s out a little moan when Jace bites down—a teasing nibble. “Since when are you ever punctual?””

“Since before I ever made the grave decision to get involved with such a bad influence,” Jace nearly growls out—never unlatching his lips from Simon’s jawline.

“Hey goldilocks, I’m not making you do anything,” Simon needles, raising his hands placatingly, A far too innocent  smile swept over his face as if he did not just cant his hips upwards so their denim clad erections buck up  against each other.

“You’re a menace,” Jace groans out, collapsing his head onto Simon’s shoulder, making him laugh as he cards a hand through Jace’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. And  your the guy who’s parabatai is leading this whole meeting thing, so What’s the big deal if you’re just a little late because you’re totally getting some from your mega hot vampire boyfriend!”

At that, Jace stiffens, just slightly—a sudden tautness stranding the once easy ambience that has begun to surround them ever since they admitted their pitifully hidden feelings for one another after a particularly nasty battle against Sebastian and his demonic minions.

It’s been at least a month, but Simon swears that he can still taste the snow flakes that cascaded across Jace’s irresistibly scarlet lips, and can still feel the way everything just clicked into focus after Simon just finally told him that if Jace had gotten hurt in any serious way Simon wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Never being one to pass up a grand gesture, Jace promptly  just crashed their lips together in a cacophony of teeth and tongue and spit. It was messy and startling and awkward before they finally adjusted themselves into a more comfortable position—one where Jace’s nose wasn’t stabbing against Simon’s eye, or his arms weren’t trapped between their ribcages. But even if he had the chance,  Simon wouldn’t change the moment in  the slightest—even if he’s pretty sure they both would’ve gotten frost bite  if they were not a vampire and part angel respectively—Because it  was all them, all their hesitated words and nervous mutterings finally culminated into something worth a million lifetimes.

“I should go,” Is all Jace manages out while tugging on the combat boots that Simon had abashedly presented to him as a Hanukkamass gift. (What can he say, even his devoutly jewish grandfather loved him his reindeer cookies and Christmas trees as much as he did his dreidel  and retellings of the eight plagues—combining the two holidays was the only plausible option.)

“Ah, okay…” Simon sits up so to slide in-between Jace and the wall of his  sparsely embellished room. (Simon would reason that all Shadowhunters are minimalist in their decorating prowls  if he did not know that Izzy owned three different types of fairy lights that she draped up with gusto, depending on the major holiday of that season.) “So you’re allowed to be a cocky shit, but the second that I call myself sexy you get all broody—“

Jace’s brows shoot up in flabbergasted shock.

“What! Simon! NO no nO!” Jace wobbles out as he whips his head to meet Simon’s gaze straight on—And yeah, Simon may or may not be so totally amused at how much of a scared puppy he looks right now.

“Bro, I know! Chill,” Simon all but guffaws, very nearly keeling over and toppling off of Jace’s bed.

His lips twist up in annoyance. “I’m not your bro,” he scoffs, moving to tug on his T-shirt and jacket.

“NO, no you most definitely are not,” Simon amends, a far too fond smile tilting the corners of his lips. And he’s sure that his eyes are doing that dazed, adoring thing that they only get when around Jace—But he doesn’t even mind how sappy that is. “You are my adorably flustered boyfriend, who I thought agreed to move past the monosyllabic sentences.”

“Simon, just because I’m not prone to speaking essay length diatribes about whatever injustice I’m feeling is particularly bad that day—like you—Doesn’t mean I only speak one word at a time.”

“Kay, first of all point, even though my essay long diatribes so totally make your days a million times brighter.”

“Never said they didn’t.”

Simon can’t help his preening at that. “Yeah, well no matter how precious your little admission is—that doesn’t help you skirt around the second point. You are not as wily as you’d like to think Lightwood.”

“And what’s that second point Simon?”

“That we agreed to not keep secrets after that whole fairy incident—“

“Yeah, well I would’ve liked some warning before seeing that prick rub himself all over you right in front of me,” Jace mutters darkly—his eyes getting steely, the way they always do whenever Simon or one of their friends bring up that total mess of a mission to poke fun at how jealous the great and mighty sex god Jace Lightwood could get.

“Bro, we weren’t even dating—We just agreed to be friends after we agreed how immature that pissing match over Clary was. You totally had no right to curl up behind me and pretend that I was already taken.”

“I have no regrets, that fay was a total sleaze ball, and again. I most definitely am not your bro.”

Simon has half a mind to bring up that Jace was kinda a sleaze ball at that time too—Okay, well not really. Just a big, emotionally inept dork who had no idea how to tell Simon that he was totally hot for him. Simon’s pretty sure that Maia still thinks that Jace is that guy he postured around pretending he is, but Simon knows better. Jace is a big marshmallow who had a really shitty father who practically taught him from birth that loving anyone was signing your death warrant. Honestly, Simon is shocked that they’ve gotten this far in what’s objectively a pretty short amount of time. Whenever Simon brings up this little observation to Jace, he just continues on tracing the love rune onto Simon’s shoulder (And yeah, Simon so totally knows it’s the love rune but still hasn’t admitted to Jace that he memorized the rune book like the first week that Valentine was arrested and they actually had a moment to breathe.) and tucks his head a little deeper into the crook of Simon’s neck and shoulder.

“You’re you,” he would cautiously admit into the depth of the night—a pink tint touching the tops of his impossible cheekbones, and his heartbeat fluttering about a million times faster, Making Simon’s insides feel like  molten lava.

“Okay, we’ll return to that particular argument later on, you know after you tell me what’s really  bothering you.”

Simon almost expects Jace to just mutter out an “I’m fine,” and swagger away, leaving the sent of his blue Calvin Klein and about a million more questions in his wake. But he doesn’t storm off. Instead, he collapses back onto the duvet besides Simon—resting his head against the wall, and looking up at him from underneath his spider leg lashes.

“I’m scared that you’ll think I’m insane or warped.”

At that, Simon practically flails around so to sprawl himself half over Jace, and locks their hands together—squeezing them so he knows that Simon is right there. “That’s impossible Jace, Nothing you could say could make me think that.” When  it looks like his resolve is wavering, Simon just squeezes harder. “I’m not going anywhere.” It’s as close to an “I love you,” that either of them have ever gotten with each other—both to terrified that if they move to hard and fast with what they have, karma or providence or whatever shit show that’s been fucking up their lives so immensely will catch wind and ruin all they’ve built. So they never say it—Just reminding the other that he’s there, and he’ll never leave.

I—I’ve been having these dreams,” Jace admits, puncturing the precarious hush that has hugged around them—a stillness that once unnerved Simon, until he found that his center felt a lot more balanced whenever he was tangled into Jace’s embrace.

“Dreams?” Simon prods, gently—knowing all too well how difficult this is for the ordinarily stoic and ever proud Lightwood to do—allowing himself to admit acknowledge his weaknesses to anyone, let alone the one person who could probably destroy him without effort.

“About Valentine, and Sebastian. About my childhood I guess…The thing is it wasn’t all bad all the time. He was the only father that I knew—A father who made me spaghetti, and gave me my first Seraph Blade and read me bed time stories-“

“Yeah, stories about love being the worst type of cancer, and how killing makes you strong. Oh! And let’s not forget his stance on corporal  punishment and-“

“Simon,” Jace’s laugh is something light and soothing, a beautiful sound that is far too amused by how heated Simon is getting over the thought of anyone hurting Jace—especially a little ten year old version of him who couldn’t wait to be best friends with a falcon until his chickenshit of a father snapped it’s neck right in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t want you to get diluted into thinking that man isn’t a complete monster.”

His lips turn up into a small, almost sad smile. “Trust me Simon, I know—It’s just weird. I mean all this time he’s had another son he hid away from me. I just wonder sometimes if I knew, if I found him while training in the woods or something…Maybe Sebastian could’ve turned out different, you know? Maybe we could’ve escaped somehow? Or he could’ve moved in with the Lightwoods with me and he’d be on our side.”

Oh, and there it is.

Right when Simon thought he’s got Jace all figured out, the dude decides to throw him a total curve ball, showing just how compassionate and good he truly is.

“A dumb thought, yeah?”

“Hey, no shut your mouth. This is not my “Jace has a dumb thought,” face, I have that when you don’t think I could totally rock leather pants.”

“I just said that wasn’t you’re style, not that I wouldn’t thoroughly enjoy the view.”

Simon hurdles on as if Jace hadn’t spoken. “This my far too open hearted boyfriend is my besotted face.”

Jace blushes.

“It just sucks, the thought of what could’ve been. I or Clary even—We could’ve had an actual  brother, and he could’ve been human and happy and normal—I just feel guilty, and sad and I hate Valentine so much for all the ways he ravaged everything that ever got in his way.”

His voice tapers off to something quieter and more contemplative, like he’s lost himself in his own idealistic prospects of some sort of elusive life that they’ll never know.

Gingerly, Simon cups a hand over his cheek, and presses a feather light kiss onto his lips. A reminder over anything else.

“Runaway with me,” he mouths against him, causing a small, beautifully delighted peal of laughter to pour from him.

“And where do you think we’d go Simon?” Tendrils of warmth curl around Simon’s stomach at the sound of Jace sting his name like that—like something precious and fragile and so so  vital—like a prayer.

“I don’t care, just anywhere with you—And preferably wifi if that’s an option,” he rectifies after a thought.

“You’re insane,” Jace chuckles ruefully.

“And there’s nothing you could’ve done. Valentine kept you guys apart for a reason Jace.”

“And what’s that?” HE challenges with hiked brows.

“Because he knows that you are good, and was afraid that you would’ve inspired even someone infected with demonic poison to be better. Cause that’s what you do Jace, you make us all want to be better and stronger and inspire us that we can do it. That we can be like you.”

The kiss Jace gives him right then is something this edge of desperate and amazing.

“No matter what—I’m pretty sure that we would’v ended up here—in this bed…doing this over and over again.”

“Yeah-Yeah, I bet you say that to all your bedfellows.” Simon teases, but kissing back with as much fervor.

“NO, just you. always you.”

And yeah that is so totally sappy but Simon doesn’t mind, because he feels the same.


Good thing Alec is Jace’s parabatai, because he never does end up getting to that meeting.

And they do end up running away together—It’s just for a weekend at some winery upstate that Rebecca told Simon about. But it was probably the funnest get away in Simon’s life—Even if Magnus, and Alec, and Clary, and Izzy all end up crashing it half way through.

Notes: Thank you so much for the prompt <3 

Please go ahead and shoot me one if you’re interested 😁

Re: Maladaptive Daydreaming

My grades dropped in Math class when I was in high school because of maladaptive daydreaming. It got to the point where I had no idea what was going on in my math classes because I spent the entire class daydreaming every single day. The stress of not understanding the content caused me to daydream even more. 

I rarely did my homework because of 1) I didn’t know there was homework because I wasn’t mentally present in class and/or 2) I was so busy with my daydreaming that I didn’t have time to do my work. I have been a chronic procrastinator to the point of pushing myself to having full on panic attacks for skipping major assignments because of maladaptive daydreaming. 

My parents have always had a violent and emotionally abusive relationship, and when I was younger I used to listen to music at a high volume so as to block out their arguments and I would close my eyes and develop stories to every single song I listened to, sometimes repeating the song over and over and over and over and over and over until I got the story right

Hours. It would literally be daylight when it started and it would be midnight by the time I finished, only going to bed after I noticed that I had fallen asleep in the rocking chair. I used already existing characters in the cartoons I watched Saturday mornings, and I would invent my own. Sometimes I used to daydream up better parental figures which made me feel immensely guilty. 

I interacted with these stories in my head. I would pace. I would make facial expressions. I could feel what they felt. I would feel happy when these characters were happy. I felt sick when they were sick. I would stay up all night thinking about what would happen to them, because that was something in my control. My own life was not – at least not to the degree I wanted it to be.

I could be having a full conversation with someone on autopilot, and my mind will actually be in these stories that no one really knows about but me. It’s not out of boredom. It’s not because I don’t care what the other person is saying. It’s because I have used it to cope for so long that I am not longer able to disengage with it unless I put in an extreme amount of effort. 

I destroyed my ears, by the way. It takes me a long time to process what people are saying to me because I can’t easily pick up on what they’re saying. When I am listening to people, it often sounds muffled. Like, I’m not receiving things on at a full signal. The combination of my constant “I am not actually present”-ness and the ringing in my ears, makes it impossible to understand people at times.

I have chosen to stay home daydreaming than be with friends. I have skipped what could have been meaningful events in my life because of it. When I ask what just happened in a show or movie because I wasn’t mentally there when I happened, I get people looking at me weird because I didn’t hear or see what they considered to be obvious. I can’t concentrate like others can. 

I still daydream all the time. I don’t remember half the time how I got home because I operate on auto pilot, while my mind wanders off to daydream. It’s scary when there are holes in your memory, when you can’t tell what day it is, when you keep missing important events, when you lose friends, etc. because all you damn do is daydream.

And You Can’t Stop. What makes it maladaptive is that you use it to cope, and it takes over your life. What makes it maladaptive is that it interferes with your ability to live and make a life for yourself. What makes it maladaptive is that it causes interpersonal problems. It may help you with something, but it overall ruins your life in the process. 

Zoning out when you’re bored to think about things that interest you are not the same thing. Wishing your life was better or more glamorous and imagining yourself in a better situation is not the same thing. It is called maladaptive daydreaming for a reason. Please learn more about it before you decide you experience it, because it may not be the same thing. 

Richonne Party 7x12

Tuesday: Favorite Richonne Moment(s)

I broke mine down into three parts… don’t hate me.  I couldn’t help it.  After all, I am complete trash.

PRE CANON - 5x16 “Conquer”

I LOVE THIS MOMENT.  Though very small and minuscule compared to all of their other powerful and emotionally beautiful moments.  BUT I LOVE THIS Y’ALL.  It says so much.  To me, at least.  It shows Rick’s humility.  He’s being apologetic.  Which are two words I wouldn’t necessarily use to describe him lol.  But they DO describe him whenever he’s around Michonne.  This was HUGE for him.  Huge.  Handing over a gun?? By choice?? Rick?? But he is! And he does! To Michonne.  There aren’t many people he’d be vulnerable enough to surrender to… And what I love the most, is when she lets him keep it.  She knows and understands what must be done.  She trusts him.  She loves him.

CANON - 6x10 “The Next World”

Okay so we ALL know this moment.  It changed/ruined our entire lives I’m pretty sure.  But allow me to express how much I love their individual moments of absolute joy.  In the first gif, Michonne has her moment.  You can see it on her face. She has stood beside this man for ages; through hell and more.  And in the process, has fallen in love with him.  And finally, they share this happy and long awaited moment. Now the second one… y’all, it made me burst into tears.  Not tears of “FANGIRL SHIPPING FEELS”… No, I cried because of a much deeper reason.  Andrew Lincoln’s face.  Rick’s genuine smile.  This man has been through the RINGER.  Well, everyone has obviously– it’s the apocalypse, but his sorrows go to a different level somehow.  To me, at least.  And finally… it’s almost as if despite everything, it was all worth it.  Because he has her and she has him.

POST CANON - 6x11 “Knots Untie” 

AAAHHHHH! I’M STILL NOT OVER THIS MOMENT.  STILL.  After a year!  It’s ironic, my third and possibly favoritest Richonne moment goes to my baby boy, Carl.  After all, he is the whole reason Rick brought Michonne into the prison in the first place.  Carl is the reason, she became one of them.  He initiated this ship.  Carl did!  He’s the Captain.  And I love how Rick saw it as a priority to tell him about his recent relationship with Michonne.  “This is different” Rick assures him.  THIS IS DIFFERENT HE SAYS.  And then… this perfect and cheeky boy responds in the best and most appropriate way: “It’s cool.”  With a similar smile, Rick and Michonne shared the night before.  #GrimesFam2.0

Little Brat

Overall Summary: You are the oldest of the Durins and you live your life happily until the day Smaug attacks. That is when you lost the trust of your little brother, Thorin.

Chapter Summary: A sparring session leads to a confession.

Pairing: Thorin x Sister!Reader; OC x Reader

A/N: I had this goal of updating all of my series before the day comes to an end, but I failed because I didn’t update the Aim of Elves and I don’t plan to before the end of the night. I’m exhausted. Anyway, happy reading.

Previous Chapter: Chapter 6

Next Chapter: Chapter 8

The next morning, you wake up to a knock on the door. 

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Why 13 Reasons Why Is More Than Just Another Show

I cannot begin to explain why I am overjoyed over the fact that 13 Reasons Why was made into a television series. I have been posting about it quite a bit since it was released on Friday and I have a reason for that. 

The book was released in 2007, when I was in sixth grade and my only friends were books. I am not exaggerating, in fact I have a trophy for getting seventh place in most AR points that year. However, that is not the point. I came across this book right before I started seventh grade and it was the first book that in some way explained what I was feeling. I did not understand what depression was or that it could be a permanent problem in someone’s life, so at a crucial point in middle school, after I had found self-harming to be my release from pain, I found this book and as I type this, I am looking at my original worn out copy that I read constantly and carried around in my backpack like a security blanket.

That book made a lasting impression on me, especially with my writing, because I wanted to tell stories like the ones in this book. I wanted to leave readers uncomfortable and yet relieved to know that someone out there actually understood what was going on and in some magical way, could produce words that made what I was feeling real and valid. 

So, when finding out that Netflix was developing this book into a television show, I was thrilled, because in it is almost rare to find a show or even a movie that showcases these dark and torturing topics in a realistic way that does not shy away from the truth. So topics such as suicide, self-harm, depression, rape, harassment, bullying, anxiety, etc. needed to finally be seen in the ugly way that they are. 

I say ugly, because when you are experiencing something like that or know someone that is, it is not pretty and it is not a fashion trend. I am twenty-one now and I have borderline personality disorder, depression, anxiety and still struggle with self harm, because it cannot be cured and it cannot be resolved in an hour.

This show needed to be told, despite it being “triggering” or “boring”, because though they did not hold back and they showed how dark these things are, I am glad that they showed it in a realistic way and not just as some bullshit side story that is only used to make things “dramatic” and “exciting” 

And at the end of the day, I am so glad that this show spoke to so many and also pissed people off. Because, I want to be a screenwriter and I write about the topics that no one talks about and I guarantee you I do not shy away from the truth, such as suicide. 

I also want to bring up the reason why I decided to write this long ass post, despite knowing that most people will just skip past it, because it is in fact long. Earlier, I saw people saying that those who did not experience mental health problems, such as depression, anxiety, etc. People who had no experience in the matter had “no right giving their opinion”. 

The reason this bothers me is because I personally believe that stories like these are told for two reasons: to relate and to teach. 

I see people posting about how they never knew people who are suicidal felt such a crushing weight of the world on their shoulders and it changes their view on those they once considered “weak”. 

I see people posting that it changed their view on the difference between “anxiety” and “being stressed”

I see people posting that they tease people, without thinking for a second that one “small” comment could ruin their day and it has changed their way of thinking and what they consider “funny”.

So, I do believe that people without mental health problems or anything else that you believe they can’t comment on, have a right to form an opinion and learn from these problems. 

I related to this show, despite the changes from the novel and I am glad that people are learning and getting a new view on things. 

Besides, I did not watch this show expecting to be entertained, I watched it hoping that they would not do what other shows have done and treat these personal subjects as a way to further a plot. They were honest and they did not hold back and I am so happy they didn’t, because it gives me hope that my own screenplays can possibly make a difference like this show has for so many already, in less than a week. 

Okay, I am done ranting. If you got through this whole thing, I give you credit for putting up with something I did drag on about. 

After You

Part: 2/?

Masterpost: {x}

Pairing: Snowbaz

Summary: What if Simon had never gone off that night in 2008?

Warning: cussing

Word Count: 3k+

Tags: @muchachadeningunaparte, @deathbycaptainswan, @punsarethebiagenda (tell me if you want to be tagged!)

A/N: Please let me know if you enjoy! I’m trying my best with first person present tense!

Keep reading

When I first started watching Broadchurch, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at Alec Hardy, with his cold demeanour and his “broody bullshit schtick” as Ellie puts it. A handsome, brooding detective with a troubled past. Well that’s something I’ve seen a hundred times before.

But Chibnall’s writing cleverly undermines that trope in a hundred ways. Hardy is different. Under his apparent rough exterior, he is so emotional and so emotionally invested in the cases he works. We see him break down and cry a lot. He’s mentally and physically ill. The scene on the beach where he finds Danny’s body shows him trying to control a panic attack. He is physically weak and prone to collapse. The narrative confronts his illnesses head on and shows how hard he struggles with his health. It doesn’t shy away from his anxiety or his panic attacks, nor the realities of his arrhythmia.

His isolation comes from him being hurt and self-protective and socially awkward, but as he accepts Ellie he proves himself an empathetic and devoted friend. At the end of the season, all of Ellie’s friends desert her - all except Hardy. He is there for her, providing all the support he can. For all his trust issues and his maxims about how you can’t trust anyone, he trusts this woman more than anything.

He’s extremely protective of children and it’s clear he would die to protect them or get justice for the murdered children he’s investigating. He would do anything for his daughter. He loves her so much he ruined his own life and his health for her. Even though it hurts him to be apart from her, he waits for her to be ready to accept him back in her life, and doesn’t force his way in.

Despite being played by David Tennant, Hardy is an undesirable character. He’s not some macho fantasy that goes around seducing women and having one night stands left and right. He’s rejected by every woman he approaches, and what he really craves is not sex but a meaningful relationship with someone he loves. He’d be happier with a hug from a loved one than sex with a stranger.

His tragic backstory isn’t a simple case of dead wife or dead daughter either - he’s a cuckolded husband who handled the situation by taking the blame and protecting the wife that cheated on him. He’s the wronged party struggling to overcome all the health issues that cropped up as a result - but the best part is, the narrative never excuses his behaviour just because he’s been hurt. Ellie Miller always calls him out on his bullshit. She supports him and loves him, but when he acts like a jackass, regardless of the underlying cause, she damn well lets him know it’s not okay. And that’s so important. Too often a tragic backstory is used to excuse bad behaviour. With Alec, it explains his behaviour, but never condones it.

In S2, and this is where things get good, our hero confronts the failure that has haunted him. But there’s never any macho bullshit about how he has to do it alone, or that he has to be the one who solves it. His priority is justice for Pippa and Lisa. All through S1 he admonished Ellie Miller for letting her emotions get the better of her. He told her she had to be objective, and that she had to look at things from the outside. And Hardy is man enough to take his own advice. He accepts his own failures and says, “hey, I’m way too emotionally invested with Sandbrook and too close to these suspects to think straight. I need help.”

Where most dudes insist on doing things alone, Hardy is actually asking for help constantly. The problem is, no-one answers his requests. He asks Tess to reopen the case and to give him some officers. She says no. She reminds him that he never made any friends, which is why he’s alone and in exile. The only person who answers his requests for help is Ellie Miller. He tells her in clear terms - “I sort of need your help.” “I can’t do it on my own.” “Help me.”

How often does that happen? How often does a man look at a woman and say, without any hint that he finds it emasculating, “I can’t do this alone, I need your help”? The thought of it being emasculating doesn’t even register. It’s not even within his ability to think like that and the narrative never even touches those sexist assumptions. It’s just a matter of - I trust her, and she’s the best person for the job. Nothing else.

Throughout the season he asks for her help and she agrees. Always, always, he asks. And she helps him because she wants to. He recognises his shortcomings and he’s completely comfortable saying, “talk to Miller” instead of interviewing someone himself. He steps down and gives her the reins. He acknowledges her abilities and once they’ve solved it he thanks her and says, “I couldn’t have done this without you.” Very sincerely, he lets her know he couldn’t have done it without her. He gives her the credit, doesn’t make it a secret, lets everyone know, “I need Miller.”

Alec Hardy is mentally and physically ill. He’s emotional and he cries a lot. He recognises his flaws and shortcomings and is willing to admit them. On a professional and an emotional level, he looks at this one woman and says, “I need you.” He is never mocked for this or viewed as less of a man. The narrative rewards him for talking about his feelings and never condones his rude or inappropriate behaviour. He’s kind and devoted and loving, especially towards his daughter. He’s respectful of people’s boundaries, he craves physical intimacy, and he’s always willing to offer what emotional support he can. He’s allowed to cry and make mistakes and rely on the help and friendship of a woman without it calling his masculinity into question.

It’s the greatest debunking of the “handsome, brooding dude with a troubled past” I have ever seen and I can’t thank Chibnall enough for Alec Hardy, and resident bamf Ellie Miller, too.

gallizfrey  asked:

Two of my main characters (they're twins) watched their parents being murdered at a very young age and I would like to accurately write how they deal with that in the rest of their lives (not the point of the story but still) while also showing how they deal with it in their own way. Do you have any tips/resources I could look at? :) Thank you!

There are a lot of things in this world that people react very differently too, depending on who they are. Death is most definitely one of those things. However, there are three main ways people tend to deal with death. I am going to dramatize them a bit, to hopefully get the point across more. I also suggest you not read this if you are a bit emotional on this topic. Death is not a toy, and the topic is not light, so please be careful when reading or writing these subjects. I am tagging this for the discussions of death, trauma, destructive tendencies and depression. Please be careful.

1. “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger”. The things you go through define you. They help build your character. Everything happens for a reason, what you went through was fate. It happened to make you who you are. To make you stronger. It helped you build yourself emotionally and physically. It hurt yes and it probably still hurts if you think about it too much, but that pain has helped you grow. You’ve moved on as much as you can, you’re okay now. Life is normal. The past can never be erased but the future and the present are all that really matter.

2.“what doesn’t kill me, destroys me” your past haunts you. The things that happened to you hurt you. They hurt you everyday and they will always hurt you. What has been seen will never be unseen. You are probably reminded of it everyday and every single time it still hurts. It’s forced you to reevaluate life for the worse. Life is mostly pointless. You were destroyed and you’ve barely been able to rebuild yourself and when you do, it’s with walls ten times higher then they’ve ever been. Because you’ve been hurt, and you never want to be hurt again. You never want to go through anything like that again, so you rebuild your world so it wont. In your mind, any and all chances of happiness have been destroyed.

3. “What doesn’t kill me, never happened.” You are in denial. You either dont, or you try your best not to think about it. You don’t dwell on it. You move on. You push forward like you never had to go through that. You avoid talking about it as much as possible. But It still lingers, like a threat, waiting to drop on you and ruin you. You could very easily become the person who is destroyed by it, but you don’t want that, you are strong enough not to be that person, but you are also too weak to be the person that can rise above it. You are neither. You are stuck in purgatory,trapped in limbo, stuck dodging the memories of your tragedy until you can find a way to save yourself.

You can play with this ideas as much and as little as you want. Remember,like I said, everyone deals with death differently, these are just general ideas of what can happen. Please also remember that the outside doesn’t always match the inside. You may act perfectly fine in front of others, but there is nothing stopping you from feeling broken and destroyed when you are alone,in the privacy of your own mind. So play with your characters, and who they are, and play with the concepts of death and trauma. Do your research about depression and anxiety and ptsd. I hope this helps, and I wish you luck with your writing. If you have any other questions, or something isn’t clear, please feel free to contact me!

anonymous asked:

I would like in season 8 for Daryl to finally show his feelings for carol instead of her doing all the work, grow a pair of balls and make a move instead of her. She gone thru enough. He needs to man up.

… Okay, I’ll play along. 

1. Daryl to finally show his feelings? You mean, like he’s been doing all along? Do you need a refresher?

Let’s go!

1. Daryl busting his ass, risking his life to find Carol’s daughter. His life was all about working hard trying to find Sophia and if he wasn’t out doing that, he was trying to keep Carol hopeful.

2. Holding Carol back from running to Sophia and comforting her in the process

3. Daryl following her to the RV and sitting with her in total peace and silence as they grieve for Sophia

4. Daryl meshing in with the group, par Carol’s advice, FOR Carol.

5. Daryl offering her a shoulder massage, laughing along with her when she asks if she wants to screw around

6. Deeply upset by her ‘’ apparent death ‘’ in Season 3, puts a Cherokee rose on her ‘’ grave ‘’

7. Needs to sit for a while, smashing his knife against the floor building up to potentially needing to put a Walker Carol down

8. Holds her, leads her back to safety

9. Goes to her, tells her to stay safe 

10. After dealing with everyone’s grumpy attitude that Merle is in the prison, Daryl kind of just wants to be alone but allows Carol in his cell, SMILES when she says that she agreed with T-Dog that the prison was just tombs, until Daryl found her and actually LAUGHS when she says ‘’ after all, look how far you’ve come. ‘’ He not only allows her in his cell during his time of final peace, he engages in conversation with her and listens attentively, smiles AND laughs in the process.

11. Talks about Merle after he died, to Carol, for just a second, accepts her hand to help him up and holds her hand while looking at her for just a second longer than he really needed to. She actually let go of his hand first, just sayin’

12. Nudges her arm when she calls him Pookie

13. PISSED OFF that Rick banished her and defends her

14. When seeing her approach them in No Sanctuary, he RUNS to her (even though he didn’t need to), he holds her extremely tightly and close, teary eyed in the process, looks at her lovingly and nuzzles her shoulder

15. He looks at her in Strangers and she tells him she doesn’t want to talk about ‘’ it ‘’ (what happened to her) and he respects this by saying ‘’ all right ‘’.

16. Extremely protective in Strangers, never leaving her side or out of his sight (When they are keeping watch, they hear a sound, he signals for her to stay back, stays by her side and kills a walker for her, places himself between her and Father Gabriel, keeping a bolt in his hand on the rock, goes after her when she left the church and asks her what she’s doing when she’s about to leave and when they spot the car that looks like the one B3th was taken, he tells her to ‘’ get in! ‘’ even though it would have made sense for him to tell her to go back to the church and let the others know that Daryl is off to search, instead of leaving them all wondering and worrying) 

17. Literally ALL OF CONSUMED. Throughout the whole episode he’s trying to get through to her, trying to comfort her, he’s THERE for her, he tells her to hold on, he takes care of her making sure she drinks water, gives her the not-ruined bag of chips… need I say more? That whole episode is us watching Daryl just being there for Carol physically and especially emotionally. Which can be taxing when the person is unresponsive or just ‘’ not getting it ‘’.

18. Loses his marbles and sanity when he see’s her get hit by a car

19. When B3th dies, he listens to Carol’s advice to ‘’ feel his feelings ‘’

20. Doesn’t flinch and ALLOWS Carol to kiss his forehead

21. At Alexandria, when Carol tells him to try, he DOES.

22. Immediately the first one to see her in The Same Boat, puts his hand on her chin to lift her head up to look at him, asks if she’s okay and when she says ‘’ no ‘’ he holds her, with his hand on her head.

23. Beats the shit out of a guy for threatening Carol’s life

24. Goes off to find her even though he’s wanted by The Saviors

25. Allows her to hug him even though he’s hurting and wanting answers for why she left

26. LIES FOR HER to protect her

27. When he is about to leave her, he goes back for a second hug where he not only allows Carol to have her hands in his hair, nuzzling him and breathing him in, he hugs back and puts his head in her shoulder in RESPONSE to her grabbing his hair. Both of them participated in that hug. Daryl only broke them off because the first time, he wanted answers rightfully so and the second time, the longer he stayed, the longer he put off leaving, the harder it was, the harder it was going to be if he kept lingering.

Obviously I am sure I missed some but here’s 27 instances Daryl showed his love for Carol all throughout the seasons. Daryl HAS shown his love for her. Daryl was abused as a child. Physical contact did not come easy for him, understandably so. Nobody, literally NOBODY can touch me without me flinching or verging a panic attack because I too, was, am abused. I know how damn hard it is to become comfortable with anything physical. 
Yet he has shown Carol love through physical contact. The hugs for example, most of which have been initiated by DARYL.

In my opinion, Carol’s feelings for Daryl have been ambiguous as of late EXCEPT! For Episode 10 in Season 7. We have not seen Carol showing love for him since 5B. And I understand why.
The point isn’t me dragging Carol, the point is me expressing how ridiculous I feel it is to say that Daryl needs to show his feelings for her when he has been showing his feelings. 
Granted, I don’t think Daryl was in love with her in Season 2, but I do believe the romantic love was there in Season 4, definitely Season 5, and most obviously in Season 7, mainly Episode 10. Whether whoever agrees with me or not is up to them.

I don’t get or understand your comment about Daryl making a move first. Carol is just as capable of making the first move as Daryl is. Carol can easily do that, too. It’s a two way street. Why does he have to make the first move? I’ll keep my opinion on who I’d like to see make the first move because my opinion is irrelevant, the point is looking at these two as EQUALS, why is there so much pressure on Daryl to show more and more feelings and make the first move when Carol is JUST AS capable? 

You’re right. Carol has gone through enough. So has Daryl. Daryl has gone through watching a woman he was becoming friends with (Denise) get killed by his crossbow, he was shot, he had to watch Abraham and Glenn get their heads bashed in, not to mention Glenn was like his BROTHER and he feels at fault for his death, he was taken and TORTURED at The Sanctuary, forced to eat dog food sandwiches, beaten, forced to look at a Polaroid of Glenn’s bashed in head. 
Daryl has gone through enough just as well. While Carol had SOME sort of peace in solitary (she was not being tortured) and was eating ACTUAL food, Daryl was suffering IMMENSELY and eating dog food. 

I’m not undermining the struggles Carol was going through because she obviously was but let’s not downplay what Daryl has gone through in Season 7 alone. 

So, yeah. Daryl has shown his love. We shouldn’t just expect Daryl to make the first move because Carol is also a capable human being and they both have gone through hell and back. 

If there’s one thing we can agree on, it’s that both of them deserve peace, happiness, love, calm with eachother. Those two deserve it MORE than anyone else under the sun at this point.

EDIT:* In Strangers, Daryl forgets he’s carrying two water jugs and offers to carry one of Carol’s and ends up dropped one of his own, which leads to a very beautiful smile from Carol. Make that 28 instances (and potentially more) where Daryl has shown his love

Bruce Banner (Hulk): Heart Break (Part I of II)


“Bruce!” I groaned out as my boyfriend paced in front of me.

“I am being serious Y/N! You are always in danger.”

I ran my fingers through my hair. “And like I said my job is dangerous so what does it matter?”

“I think that it is best if I ju-“

I glared at him. “Do not even think about finishing that sentence Banner!” I growled out at him. “How many times have we done this?” I questioned my boyfriend who was just pissing me off now.

“Be reasonable Y/N w-“

“I am being reasonable you big oaf. You leave me to ‘protect me’ and then you come back. So what the hell is the point in breaking up? Do you enjoy tearing my heart out and stomping on it?” I yell before taking a deep breath pissing him off was not going to help my cause at all.

“I do not want you to end up like other people. I would hate myself for hurting you.”

“Oh so physically hurting me and emotionally ruining me are on two different scales?” I ask .

He runs his hands through his hair. “Dammit no!” He shouts and I watch his skin ripple green.

“You know what I need air!” I shout before making my way out of the tower. Pissing him off would just prove him right.


“Just let it go for now Banner.” I say trying my best to tamper down my urge to scream at him.

Three Hours Later

“Bruce?” I asked walking into his apartment in the tower. I sighed. What the hell was wrong with him? Seriously after all we have been through he still has to pull out the ‘leaving to protect you card’. I took a deep breath yelling and screaming at him would only help make his point. I glanced into the living room still no sign of my boyfriend. Dammit Bruce where are you?

I walked into the connecting kitchen, “Babe come on! We need to talk about thi-“ I stopped in my tracks noticing a thing of flowers and a note.
I swallowed. Please dear god, do not do this to me again. I prayed and rushed to the table. I ignore the flowers and picked up the letter.

Dear Y/N,
Thank you for sharing so much of yourself with me. You will make someone really happy someday. I want you to know you deserve a person who will see you as I see you every day, and be able to talk to you without having to censor what he says. I am sorry I can’t be that person for you. You were the first person to show me my own truth. I know it’s cliché but I really do hope for the best for you.
Being with you was the only time I can remember being happy. I really do love you Y/N, but I can’t be with you anymore. I know you are reading this and mentally screaming at me but it is true. I can’t keep putting you in harm’s way because I need you. It is not fair to you Y/N. You should not have to watch what you say in case I was having a bad day.
I do not mean to tear your heart out. I really do want you to be happy and I am sorry I always swoop in and steal it away from you just to break your heart again.
I will already have left when you read this. I am sorry. Please forgive me.

I love you,

I tore the letter in half and screamed. No he could not do this to me again. Every time he comes looking for me and he has one episode and bam he leaves. I grab the roses and the vase and threw them against the far wall. Before sliding down the opposite side of the wall crying he could not be serious. I grabbed my knees and pulled them to my chest. I was a trained professional and all it took was a clumsily man with an affliction towards purple to make me a mess. I stood up on shaky legs.

This time if he was leaving he was going to tell me to my face. I ran towards the elevator and repeatedly punched the button until the doors opened. I stabbed the button to Tony’s floor. I took three deep breaths and wiped my face. I was not going to let Tony see how much it broke me to read that letter. As the doors opened I was met with the sight of a pacing Tony Stark.

“Where is he?” I shouted at Tony as I stomped out of the elevator and walked into his work shop.

“Y/N… Calm down.” He says throwing his hands up.

“Did he leave?” I shout accusingly at him.

“Fury sent hi-“ Tony tried to cut me off throwing yet another excuse out for the man he claimed was a ‘all around good guy’.

“That is bullshit Stark! He left because he is running away from me…Again!” I shout as I glare at Tony.

He winces. “Y/N….”

I shake my head fighting back the tears. I can’t believe he is going to do this to me again. “I get it Stark you guys are ‘bros’ or whatever the hell you want to call him.” I say throwing my hands up in anger.

“He’s trying to prot-“

I let out a hollowed laugh. “I am a S.H.I.E.L.D agent Stark. Honestly how safe does my life get?” I say running my hands through my hair. I felt like crying and screaming all at the same time. I really can’t live like this anymore. I furiously blink back tears again. He does this every time. He leaves to ‘protect me’ but then when I have my shit back together he swoops in because he can’t stand being without me. I took a deep breath I needed out of this cycle. I shook my head at Tony.

I didn’t need his answer I had my own. I turned on my heel and headed towards the exit.

“He just wants you to be safe.” Tony says still trying to defend him.

I nodded and punched the elevator door button. I turn to study him, out of all the people he should be the one on my side. “Fine.”

Tony stops walking towards the wet bar and stares at me oddly. “Y/N-”

“No if it is what he wants then fine.” I say throwing my hands up in the air. “He wants to protect me? He wants me to stay safe? Well I guess it is what I want to.”

Tony swallows visibly. “Look he lo-“

I cut Tony off, “Don’t even say it.”


“I will let him ‘protect me’ on one condition Stark.” I say trying my best to keep my face a mask.

He looked at me warily. “Okay what?

“First you are going to tell him I left just like he wanted. I mean I know he timed it so he was gone when I showed up.”

“Deal.” Tony says still looking at me with worry. “That it?”

“No,” I say as the elevator doors open. “Also tell him I never want to see him again and if I do, let him know not to speak to me.” I say as I step into the elevator.

Two Months Later

“We have to go to Stark Tower.” Coulson said looking at me uneasily.

I took a deep breath and nodded turning my gaze to look out the window. “Lets make it quick.”

I bite down on the inside of my lip. I had not been back to the tower since I last spoke to Tony. I avidly avoided mission that brought me into contact with any of them.

“He misses you.” Coulson said making conversation.

“It really is not of any interest to me.” I say shrugging it off.

“Y/N…” He says as we approach the tower.

“Don’t. It was his choice.”

“You and I both know that he did not anticipate you cutting him out of his life.”

I let out a dark laugh as Coulson parked the car. “That is because he thought it would be him cutting me off not the other way around.”

“You really are not going to give him another chance?”

I pushed open the door and headed towards the tower entrance before turning to face Coulson. “No, because he will just want to run away again and I cannot live my life with someone knowing they are always going to find some stupid excuse to leave.”

I turn and head to the entrance to be met by Happy. He turned and smiled at me. “Y/N, your back! Bruce is going to be so happy.”
I turned to Coulson. He knew this was going to happen. “I’m not here for Bruce.” I say coldly and head to the elevator.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Coulson shake his head and head into the elevator with him. “Y/N he w-“

I turned to give him a pointed look. “I thought that we had a job to do?” I questioned before punching the button to Starks floor.

We rode up the rest of the way in silence. As the doors opened we are greeted by the Avengers. I swallowed and nodded at Coulson to leave the elevator first.

He nodded. “Stark we need a word with you.”

Everyone but Tony and Bruce noticed my presence in the room. I stood in silence not wanting to alert Bruce that I was here in case he wanted to talk to me.

“Look Coul-“ Tony said turning away from his desk and stopping to stare at me.

So much for going unnoticed, “You know why we are here Stark.” I said coldly.

Bruce turned around at the sound of my voice. “Y/N-“

“Banner.” I said in the coldest voice I had ever heard before turning my attention back to Stark, “The files Stark.”

Tony nodded and reached out for them before handing them to Coulson. “You’re back in the States, does that mean we will be seeing you more at the tower.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “I never really left. I just do not have the time to canoodle with you Avengers.”

Tony scoffed. “So your avoiding us.”

I gave Tony a pointed look as I still felt Bruce’s eyes on me. “No not ‘us’. I’m just avoiding Banner.” I said honestly before turning to look Bruce up and down. I turned towards the elevator. “Now excuse us some of us actually have work to do.” I say heading towards the elevator.
As I entered I noticed the man following me was not Coulson but Bruce. He pushed the button to the lobby and shut door effectively cutting Coulson off. I stared straight in front of me at the doors.


I ignored him trying not to cry. I was not going to let him do this to me again.

“Look I am sorr-“

I let out a harsh laugh before turning to glare at him. “Sorry? You’re a coward Banner!” I shout at him before taking a calming breath. “Didn’t Tony give you my rules?” I asked.

I reached out for my arm. “I messed up okay. I-“

“I do not care anymore Banner. Your excuses are exactly that, yours.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I was wrong okay!”

“I am well aware.” I say as we approach the lobby. “I was there, hell even Tony was there, but like usual Bruce Banner was not.”

The elevator jerks to a stop and Bruce hits the emergency stop button which stops the doors from opening.

“Careful Banner closed in spaces are not your forte.” I say mockingly.

He grabs my face in his hands. “Stop this. I know I messed up. When I saw yo-“

I jerked myself away from him, “You mean when I almost died two months ago? Don’t worry Banner it wasn’t do to you not ‘protecting me’ it was do to me miscalculating an op and paying for it. You do not have to feel guilty for that anymore.” I say pressing the button and the doors opened. I quickly headed out of the elevator.

“I am sorry!” He shouts and I can hear the strain in his voice.

“I am too.” I whispered to myself biting back tears. “That’s not enough Bruce.”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t loving you still count for something?” He asks running his hand through his hair.

I turned around to face him and take a real good look at him. He looked wore out and sad, which only pissed me off.
“No! Not when you through it around like it’s nothing! You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself! You wanted to leave me well congrats you left.” I said harshly. “But, hate to break it to you Banner you do not get to come back!”


I felt my tears fall. “You don’t get to walk back into my life! You wanted out! You wanted this!”

He shakes his head stepping towards me. “Not like this.”

I let out a dark laugh. “Yes like this!”

“No dammit! I messed up okay? I wanted to protect you but I can’t I get that.”

I shook my head, “Today you might but what about tomorrow? Or after you have an ‘episode’? I’m not a yo-yo Banner. The feeling of whiplash has lost its appeal.”

He lets out a scream. “Stop it! I get it I have to pay fo-“

“This has nothing to do with you paying for breaking my heart over and over Banner! It has everything to do with not letting you have it and smash it to a million pieces again!” I scream as tears cascade down my face.

I rush out of the building. I began to walk just like the day I got the letter. Just like I did every night I could not sleep. I felt the tears fall and picked up my pace escaping into the crowd of New Yorkers.

I turned and see Bruce standing there looking broken. I turn back around and disappear. Loving Bruce Banner was always going to be my one fault. I felt my heart break even more as I walked away from him. It was the right thing to do. He would no longer feel guilty. I would no longer be in the continuous cycle of heart break.