#I’m sick of my life revolving around them

[thursdayg1rl]

why did they have to make the summer I turned pretty into a show. it’s ruined my life and I have no plans of even watching

[tyrianlynch]

I’ve been improving a lot mentally lately and today my wife (best friend who I’ve lived with for 7 years) told me she’s divorcing me (moving to a city we both swore we’d never live in) and she’s taking the kids (our dog) and this is just further proof that god will never allow me to be happy or hopeful

[c-nan]

“something something..i don’t like my life so i’ll attack your life and things you like to do/make you happy so i can get a power trip on being a ‘better person’”

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku

Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂

–

Hawks

“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”

Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard. 

“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”

Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”

Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?

You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.

Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time. 

“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”

You inhale sharply. Not again. 

For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.

Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life. 

“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism. 

“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”

You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.

You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols. 

And now he slanders you on national television? 

And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this. 

Dabi

“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.” 

“There is.” 

“There isn’t.” 

You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.

“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”

Dabi looks at you, unimpressed. 

“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.” 

“You serious?” 

Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff. 

“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”

Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you. 

“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour. 

You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting. 

“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.” 

You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair. 

“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.

Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother. 

A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.

“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”

His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour. 

“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.

You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”

His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.

He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away. 

“Are we understood?” 

The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless. 

“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”

Bakugo

“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.

His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.

Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh. 

“Katsuki.” 

Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.

The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep. 

You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend. 

But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue. 

“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.

“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts. 

“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod. 

“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”

“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”  

Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you. 

“I’m not making up excuses.”

“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired,  too busy or not in the mood.”

He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes. 

“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”

His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.

“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”

You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears. 

He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.

Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...

Your insecurities strike back, taunting you. 

Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off. 

“The hell you want now?”

Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him. 

He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member. 

Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down. 

You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you. 

You really have to wake up early.

Deku

“Are you serious, Izuku?” 

The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be. 

“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.

Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.

“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.

“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him. 

You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.

“Izuku.” 

“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.” 

You don’t. 

“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”

You point a warning finger at him.

“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”

He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish. 

“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”

“You don’t, stop lying.”

“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.

“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears. 

You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?

Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest. 

“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time. 

He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.” 

And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.

[ellecdc]

All's Fair in Love & Chaos (IV)

fourth installment ( I - II - III)

a short blurb style mini-series in collaboration with @unstablereader no real plot, just vibes and comedy.

Synopsis: soulmate au, everyone's soulmate's initials become visible on their wrist when the last person in the bond 'comes of age' (I've left the age ambiguous because their may be mature insinuations later on in the story). As luck would have it, and much to everyone's horror; it appeared that you, Barty Crouch Junior, and Sirius Black were soulmates

poly!DeathStar x fem!reader

“This is getting confusing.” Peter whined petulantly as the Marauders stepped into the Great Hall and surveyed the various tables. “We used to just wake up, go to the Great Hall, and sit at the Gryffindor table.”

“It’s good to broaden your horizons, wormy!” James offered with a hearty pat on Peter’s shoulder. 

Luckily for them, it appeared that everyone’s respective soulmates were sitting at the Slytherin table this morning. 

Unluckily for Sirius, it appeared that everyone’s respective soulmates were sitting at the Slytherin table this morning. 

“Nothing but the best for my girl!” Marlene proclaimed as Dorcas rolled her eyes fondly. 

“What? Did you buy her the best medication for your various sexually transmitted diseases?” Sirius taunted as he sat down beside you earning him a heavy kick in the shin courtesy of Marlene’s combat boots.

“Don’t be crass, Black.” Dorcas drawled. “She’s throwing me a birthday party.”

“A party?” James chimed in. “When? Where? Are we invited?”

Marlene playfully (though extremely aggressively) shoved James in the shoulder, which James had to massage when she was no longer looking as Dorcas answered him.

“Yes, yes. You’ve all been invited. Or, rather, your soulmates have been invited, and they were told to bring theirs, so.” 

Peter harrumphed as he poked around in his porridge bowl. 

“You’re invited too, Pete; don’t worry.” Marlene called over, earning her a smile that seemed to take a bit too much effort from the Gryffindor boy. 

“Where’re you throwing it? Gryffindor?” Remus asked Marlene.

“No, we’re going to have it in the Room of Requirement! Really deck the place out.” Lily answered for her, pulling out a heft binder that was well and truly over-flowing with party planning paraphernalia. 

“That’ll be fun, yeah? I can pick you up from your common room and we can go together?” Sirius asked you then, only to hear a derisive scoff emanate from your otherside.

“Fat chance, Black. I was here when the invites were shared, she’s going with me.” 

You opened your mouth to interject when Barty pulled you into his side. “Isn’t that right, treasure?” 

“I don’t know why I should have to lose out on my date just because Remus took so bloody long getting out of bed this morning.” Sirius argued over the top of your head. 

“The early niffler gets the gold, Black. I don’t make the rules.” 

Sirius let out an incredulous laugh at that. “You absolutely did make that rule! And every other rule in this sodding relationship! I have to walk around on eggshells sharing her with you.”

“And what do I do? Hm? This isn’t exactly a walk in the park for me to have to listen to your constant nagging and pestering when I’m simply trying to enjoy some quality time with my soulmate.” Barty sneered. 

“She’s our soulmate.” Sirius corrected quickly. 

“Yeah well I’d bloody like to fix that.” Barty muttered.

The entire table was stunned silent when you suddenly slammed both of your hands down onto the top of the table and stood abruptly. 

“I’m tired of this.” You beseeched as you climbed over the bench and stared defiantly at both Sirius and Barty who were now looking up at you in shock. “I am sick and tired of the bickering and the surveillance and the trade offs and the schedules. I'm tired of it! I’m living my life on some timetable that revolves around you,” said as you pointed at Sirius before moving your finger to Barty, “and you. And at the end of the day, there’s no time left for me.” 

You took a shuddering breath but soldiered on, grabbing each of the boys’ wrists (quite painfully, mind you) and flipping them over to expose their soulmate marks. 

“Yes I am both of your soulmates and you are both mine, but you are also eachother’s.” You released their hands and took a step back; your formidable glare falling into something more pained and vulnerable as you began picking at the skin of your nails. “And until you two realise that, or until you can at least pretend to get along for my sake, I don’t want to hang out with either of you.”

Sirius felt like the air had been knocked right out of him as you bent down to retrieve your bag and began walking away. 

“Sit down.” You hissed as you spun around, watching both Barty and Sirius slowly lower themselves back onto the bench. 

You looked as though you were going to turn around and leave again, but your eyes caught onto one member of the group.

“Peter.” You called much more gently than you’d been speaking to Barty and Sirius. “Would you like to go to Dorcas’ party with me?” 

“Yes!” Peter whispered excitedly, which was nearly drowned out by the protest that was going to come from Sirius before a hand smacked itself over his mouth. 

You smiled softly at Peter before you turned and left the Great Hall with not so much as a single glance in Sirius’ (or Barty’s) direction. 

James let out a slow whistle as Sirius shook the hand that was over his mouth, finding himself even more aghast to realise it had been Barty’s.

“Junior! Get your sodding hands off of me!”

“It wasn’t exactly pleasurable for me either, Black.”  He spat back. 

“You should have said something! Now she’s going to the party with Peter.”

“Yeah, yeah. We can kill him later.” Barty muttered indignantly. 

“I don’t want to kill one of my best friends! I want to go to a bloody party with my girl!” 

“Yeah well, your girl doesn’t want anything to do with you.” Marlene taunted with a smile on her face as she leaned into Dorcas’ side. “That was kinda hot, actually.” 

“Bugger off, McKinnon.” Barty and Sirius spat in unison, only to glare severely at one another.

“Merlin’s tits; is this what you’re every time you’re around each other?” Lily asked incredulously, to which Sirius quickly said “no” at the same time Barty replied “pretty much, yeah”. 

“She must be a saint, then; I would have dumped the two of you by now if I were her.” Regulus added in a bored tone, never looking up from his copy of the Daily Prophet. 

“Yeah well, we’re all thanking our lucky stars not to be matched up with you, Reg.” Barty sneered, earning him a snort of laughter from Sirius before he realised what he’d been doing and immediately went back to scowling. 

“Pettigrew!” Barty called as he leaned around Sirius. “100 galleons to not attend the party with Y/N.”

Peter looked equally fearful for his life and resigned to his death. “I don’t want to stand her up…”

Apparently, even Barty didn’t have the heart to have you - poor, shy you - attend a party solo. “Buggering fuck, fine.” He spat as he stood and grabbed his bag. “Pick me up in the Slytherin common room at eight pm sharp. And for the love of Merlin, bring me a sodding boutonniere!”

The group watched as Barty disappeared around the corner and the Great Hall returned to its normal volume. 

“He does know this is a semi-casual event, right?” Marlene whispered to Dorcas. “Boutonniere's aren’t required nor encouraged.” 

Dorcas simply snorted and returned her attention to her breakfast. “Marly, you come to learn to pick your battles when it comes to the likes of Barty Crouch Junior.”

But when Sirius turned his attention away from the door of the Great Hall, he saw her staring directly at him. 

“Duly noted.” He muttered as he loaded up his plate in resignation. 

Looks like I’m going on a date with Junior. 

… 

Never in a million years would Sirius have ever bet even a single knut that one would find him standing outside of the Slytherin common room dressed in his best trousers (that absolutely hugged his arse in all the best ways) and a simple button up shirt that he failed to button up all the way, leaving a sinful trail of skin along his chest. 

Yet, here he was.

Standing outside of the Slytherin common room, dressed to impress awaiting his date…who was none other than bloody Barty Crouch Junior. 

Sirius honest to gods thought about obliviating himself and just going back to his dorm for, say, maybe ever? But Barty chose that moment to step out through the door looking utterly delectable. 

“See something you like, Black?” He taunted with a haughty grin, causing Sirius’ eyes to narrow challengingly. 

“I don’t see Y/N around anywhere, so no.”

Both of them sighed as they considered each other. 

“Well?” Barty asked then.

“Well what?”

Barty scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Circe’s tits, aren’t you going to tell me I look nice? You Black’s have horrid manners.”

“You’ve not told me I look nice!” Sirius retorted.

“I didn’t run to the nearest loo to pour bleach in my eyes; you’re so hard to please.”

“Merlin’s saggy balls- let’s go.” Sirius muttered as he turned on his heel to head all the way back up the stairs he just came down towards the Room of Requirement. 

“Uhm, aren’t you forgetting something?” Barty asked as he grabbed Sirius’ wrist. 

“What, you want to hold hands on our way up too?”

“My boutonniere you git.” Barty replied as he pointed to his chest. 

Sirius gave a dramatic eye roll of his own as he pulled a small box from his pocket and returned it to its original size. 

He carefully pulled out the selection of flowers and batted Barty’s hands away when they reached for them.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?”

“You don’t pin your own corsage, Junior.” Sirius responded tiredly. “Purebloods raise gentlemen afterall.”

Barty fell quiet at that as he watched Sirius’ face as he pinned the flowers to his black button up. 

“Green? ‘Cause I’m in Slytherin?” Barty asked derisively as Sirius admired his work. 

Sirius’ eyes flit up to Barty’s before falling back to the corsage. 

“Green because of your eyes, Junior.” Sirius admitted quietly before he turned on his heel and headed up the stairs. “Hurry along; I want Y/N to see us walk in together looking like perfect tens.” 

And though Sirius couldn’t see it, he could certainly feel Barty’s gaze fall down to his perfect arse as he took two stairs at a time. “Speak for yourself, Black. I’m an eleven.” 

The party was well underway by the time Sirius and Barty made it up to the Room of Requirement which was, indeed, well set up for the party. 

Sirius knew it was likely more thanks to Lily than it was to Marlene, but he also knew Lily would likely let Marlene take all the credit for it.

“Where is she?” Barty asked, leaning into Sirius’ side so he could speak into his ear. Sirius fought back a shiver as he made for the familiar sight of the bar table. “No idea, but I’m gonna need a drink.” 

They found you not long afterwards; Sirius’ heart nearly stuttering to a stop when he spotted you twirling around with Peter looking so carefree as you threw your head back in laughter and caused Peter to do the same.

And by the way Barty’s jaw fell slack, he was sure he felt much the same. 

“She’s kind of perfect, isn’t she?” Sirius asked then, watching as you and Peter reorganised yourselves for a new song.

“Kind of perfect? You’re way off, Black.” Barty shot back, but when Sirius turned to give him an incredulous glare for being so damned contradictory all of the time, he was surprised to see a soft smile on his lips.

Ah, Sirius thought, humour - I know a thing or two about that. 

“Should we show her what she’s missing tonight?” He asked Barty then, ridding himself of his cup and holding his hand out to his date for a dance. 

“It’d be my pleasure.” Barty said with a smile as he accepted Sirius’ hand and followed him to the dancefloor. 

“Is she looking at us?” Sirius asked as he fought every single urge to look at you.

“How could she not? We’re the hottest couple here.” Barty responded easily, surprising a bark of laughter from Sirius.

“Did you just call me attractive, Junior?” 

“I may find you completely horrid and annoying but I’m not blind, Black.” Barty bit back, though Sirius could see a blush forming across his face. 

“Don’t you two make a handsome couple.” Lily offered as she floated by, offering Sirius a wink as she headed for you. 

“Keep your eyes off my date, you trollop!” Sirius teased with a smile, relishing in the pleasantly surprised look adorning your face when you spotted the two of them dancing together. 

“She’s looking!” Sirius whispered at Barty then. 

“Don’t blow it, Black.” Barty hissed back, pulling Sirius flush against him. 

Sirius rolled his eyes (albeit fondly) and opted to rest his head against Barty’s shoulder.

“Does this mean the two of you are, like, together now?” James blurted then, surprising Sirius and causing him to straighten up and break away from Barty as if he’d been caught doing something naughty.

“What!? Of course not.” Barty snapped quickly.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sirius added.

James’ eyes flit between the two of them as his brows inched closer together. “Really? ‘Cause it sort of look-”

“Well, you should probably get your glasses checked, Potter, because what it looked like was two blokes who share a soulmate working hard to ensure their soulmate doesn’t up and leave them.”

“Right!” Sirius agreed quickly. 

“Listen; do I think Black always looks like an off-duty model? Sure.” 

“And do I think Junior is by far the hottest bloke here? Sure.”

“Exactly! I could do much worse than Black, here.” 

“And do we make one hell of an attractive couple? Yes.” Sirius paused when his yes was chorused by Barty. “But that’s all it is.”

“That’s all it is.” Barty agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. 

James considered the two of them a moment longer before letting out an inelegant snort. “Sure; whatever you say.”

“He doesn’t get it.” Sirius said simply then, turning back to Barty to continue their dance.

“You’ve got dumb friends; can’t even understand two attractive people not being completely revolted by one another.”

And Sirius couldn’t help but agree; James really was dumb if he couldn’t see that Barty was, indeed, the hottest bloke at this party (Sirius excluded, of course).

[mvltisstuff]

Heyyy I was wondering if you can do a very jealous jeremiah fisher? Which turns into a angry confession and makeout session🙏🏻

false prophets - j.f

summary: request

jeremiah fisher x reader

every day that jeremiah wakes up and hears y/n talks about some guy is another day that he wants to drown in the ocean. he’s sick and tired of waking up feeling like she’ll never want him, and that he’ll never be good enough for her. all the years she’s been coming to the beach house have been perfect, besides his burning affection toward her.

his dreams, day and night, consist of her, and then she haunts him the next morning. he hopes his acting skill are good enough to hide the feelings behind his fraudulent smile. unfortunately for him, it’s almost clear to everyone. everyone but y/n. he vents to steven almost daily, and conrad knows his brother like the back of his hand. jeremiah is hard to read sometimes, but when it comes to y/n, he’s like glass.

y/n is the furthest thing from oblivion, but everyone is completely confused as to how she hasn’t seen jeremiah’s feelings for her. it feels so one sided to her. their thoughts mirror each other. she’s a strong believer that jeremiah would never want her. he goes for people completely different, and the self-hatred just bounces back when she sees him with another. all of her friends know they’re going to end up together one way or another, but their stubbornness is the wall between them.

their interactions have become painfully awkward as jeremiah just feels sick when she talks about someone else. it’s the same with her, just wanting to run away when he talks about another girl he met at a party. and when the other gets their heart broken, they know the other could mend it back together.

the time was getting later and later, and jeremiah watched y/n empty another drink. he took turns dancing with random people, hoping to maybe get her eyes on him. he only thought about her when he was with another girl. when his hands connected with someone else, he pictured y/n.

y/n was practically torturing herself by eyeing him the whole night. it was hell, the mix of blaring music and neon lighting. when her eyes landed on a new person with him, she just grabbed yet another drink. something about the sight made her blood boil up. it was only her and jeremiah in the room at this point. everyone else was just for decoration as she stared him down.

she looked over at a boy in the corner, immediately recognizing him as someone jeremiah hates. it’s not clear why, but jeremiah gets so irked by this guy. y/n knows it’s a perfect opportunity to retort back at jeremiah. so, she walks over with the can in her hand, dripping condensation onto her knuckles.

it doesn’t take very long for jeremiah to notice the flirty language. she’s basically leaning on him, giggling and batting her lashes the way guys around cousins enjoy. the smirk on the guys face made that obvious, and his hand on her side made jeremiah shiver. jeremiah hated seeing him touching her in all the places he wishes he could.

it felt like someone had be lit, ready to explode. he couldn’t stop himself from storming over, grabbing y/n’s hand and pulling her away. he saw the annoyed look on her face, but somehow she didn’t look angry. some part of her face came across as if she had accomplished something.

“what the hell?” she complains and jeremiah can hear the drunkenness in her words.

“y/n, you can’t possible have been interested in him,” he rolls his eyes.

“the world doesn’t revolve around you and your likes, jere,” she says. “you don’t control my life.”

“well, maybe i should! i know he’s not good for you and i don’t know why you’re so blind to realize it.”

“are you serious?” y/n laughs sarcastically. “i’m the blind one?”

“you’re drunk,” he speaks the two words harshly, leaving y/n’s nose to scrunch.

“so what? i was having a decent night for once and you pulled me away from a guy.”

“yeah, why do you think i did that?” he shouts. “i couldn’t stand watching him run his hands all over you and i hate this fucking act i have.”

y/n tries to focus her blurry eyes on him, absorbing each word he said to her. “what act?”

the powder keg exploded inside of jeremiah, y/n being the spark. he took broad steps toward her, grabbing her head gently and pulling her lips against his. he immediately was confronted with the taste of alcohol on her lips, then more on her tongue. the way her hands moved up to his arm sent electricity through his veins. the loads of perfume she put on hit his nose as it mixed with the smell of his cologne. he wishes he could see her beautiful face, but with his eyes shut, he takes in the glory of kissing her.

when he pulls away, y/n sighs lightly. she didn’t want it to stop. “that act,” he tells her. “i’ve been in love with you for years and if i waited any more it would’ve killed me.”

in response, y/n just starts kissing him again, their tongues against each other and light huffing from them. jeremiah barely knew what to do with his hands. he’s dreamt about being in this position for as long as he can remember, but he hardly recalls anything from the distraction of y/n.

her lips were soft on his, but her grip on him was aggressive and claiming. her hands floated up to his scalp without stopping the kiss. jeremiah gently guided them to his car, leaning her against the door as he took in every moment that y/n was giving him. when she’s the next to pull away, she smiles at him, gazing into his blue irises. “i’ve only had eyes for you, jeremiah.”

“good,” he grins. “i’m still pissed that you were hitting on the worst person i know.”

he leans in again to kiss her, making y/n chuckle into the air. “stay mad,” she jokes.

[astrolynnworld]

stress reliever

pairing: chris x reader

summary: the baby is taking a toll on the readers mental health so chris decides to be her stress reliever

warnings: smut! pregnant reader, mental health, sadness, stress, smut, language, dom chris, reassurance, praise, love, romance

a/n: love me a request

word count: 1,127

life sucks so much lately. everything is a nuisance

i feel like my decisions aren’t mine anymore, everything i do revolves around this baby.

and i can’t help but feel like that’s never gonna change.. because isn’t that what having a kid is like?

putting them first above you at all times because you want them to push for more than you ever could?

it’s all so stressful. i wouldn’t even know the first thing about being a mother, yet i have 4 months until i officially become one.

i can’t even do the things i used to enjoy anymore. all i do is eat, sleep, feel sick, and linger around the house

chris tries his best to keep me active and motivated but nothing has been working

i feel like he can tell that i’ve been so down lately

———————————————————————

“baby come on let’s go for a walk” chris begs

“i don’t want too. i want to stay in bed” i reply

“come on, you’ve been in bed all day. let’s go outside” he responds back

“chris it’s fine, the day is almost over. we don’t need to be outside doing absolutely nothing.” i snap then retract

chris climbs into bed with me

“baby what’s wrong.. honestly” he starts up

i sigh trying to hold back my tears, “i just feel like im not ready to be a mother”

“why would you ever think that baby?” he says softly

“how am i supposed to take care of our baby girl when i can barely take care of myself? i have NOTHING going for myself chris.” i start the sentence to my mini rant

“how will she ever look up to her failure of a mother? the mother with a shitty job, no car, and can’t even make anything of herself” i say starting to cry at this point

“i’m NOT ready to bring a child into my world. im going to be a TERRIBLE mother chris. don’t you see that?” i ask rhetorically while resting my face in my hands

chris grabs my chin, “y/n..”

“don’t chris.” i say

“look at me y/n”

i look up to a soft kind glare plastered on chris’ face

he starts wiping my tears away, “you’re the most beautiful, kindest, honest, loving, hard working woman i know”

“there is not a doubt in my mind that you’re going to be an amazing and incredible mother” he continues

“you’re not afraid speak your mind, you’re so independent, you don’t let any obstacle overcome who you are, and you’re always down for a good challenge”

i let out a soft smile

“i’d be LUCKY if our daughter was anything like you. i’d rather nothing more.”

“do you really mean that?” i ask

“you think our daughter should come out anything like me” he says while laughing

“no..” i chuckle back

“exactly. you don’t see what i see but of course you’re the perfect role model for our daughter, you’re an amazing person y/n. and i know you’re going to be an amazing mother.” he responds back in a smile

i calm down and give chris a hug

“im so grateful that i have you by my side doing this with me” i say as i hug him tighter

i pull away and give him a kiss

“i love you so much y/n” he says before giving me another kiss

then another one..

and another one…

“christopher.” i laugh

“come on” he smiles as he flips me on my back, “your lips are so soft” he dives back into another kiss

he starts kissing down my neck

“chris.. you don’t have to do this” i say as i put up a little resistance

“shh baby, just let me show you how amazing you are” he responds

i nod my head bring my neck up for another kiss on the lips. to which he fulfills

he keeps kissing me as he slides me out of my pants and underwear.

“fuck your pussy is so pretty baby.” he says while rubbing my clit

i let out a slight moan at the warm hand rubbing my juices in

“so wet for me baby” he says as he lifts his hand to taste my juices

“you make me so hard baby”

“chris please..” i whine

“please what baby” he responds

“please fuck me”

“dont need to ask me twice” he chuckles as he whips out his cock

he starts teasing the outside of my pussy with his head

causing me to arch my back into the sheets

“fuck you’re so hot baby. how bad do you want it”

“so bad, please please please put it in baby” i beg

he slides his cock in slowly and i whimper at the feeling of his member filling my hole

“fuck chris. i forget how big you are” i whisper in a whine

he bends his head to meet a kiss on my lips as he starts to slide in and out

“you’re so perfect for me baby, don’t ever forget that.” he says through grunts

“you’re mine. only mine” he continues

i continue to let the praise wash over me as he pounds inside me

“i want you to say it for me baby. say that you’re mine” he says while picking up the pace

“im yours chris” i whimper

“say that you’re my pretty little girl” he demands

“im your pretty little girl chris only yours” i continue to whine

“yes baby. say that you’re an good girl” he continues

“i’m such a good gir- fuck. i’m the best girl”

“yes keep saying it baby, i want to hear you louder” he groans

“i’m a good girl chris. i’m such a good girl. i’m only your good girl. i’m a good girl.” i continue as i feel my orgasm overtake my stomach

chris’ pace quickens as he feels my pussy clench around him

“ooh fuck chris. don’t stop.” i beg him as i ride my high out

“i’m gonna cum too baby” chris cries

“yes baby cum in me. fill me up” i moan out to him

he throws his head up and lets out a loud exhale from his mouth as he releases his all into me

“oh my go- fuck.” says chris

i start chuckling

“what’s so funny” he says as he starts looking down at me

“nothing. i just love you so much” i reply

“well i love you more baby. i hope you never have to question my love for you”

he pulls out of me and helps me up so we can wipe me down and put my clothes on

“i hope that took all your worries and stress away princess” he says as he gives me a quick kiss on the forehead

———————————————————————

a/n- i don’t know if i’m tagging right but @sturnioloenthusiast @littlebookworm803 <3

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.2. PLANTS.

“there’s a blue light, in my best friend’s room. there’s a blue light in his eyes.” “he sits in the waiting room. each chair has its own arms. they’re nimble and plastic, and the material of the cushions is a scratchy green. they’re the type you would find in a conference room, and he can’t decide if he likes them or not. he feels too big for the small room, but he likes the song he can hear playing from a small speaker. it took him a little bit to find it, and he constantly turned his head, trying to find where he could hear it the loudest. “there’s a ship that sails by my window.” there. he sees it on the little oak ladder shelf to his right. it’s a small white circle, and he wouldn’t have thought it to be a speaker if not for the grated cover on the front and the soft music it was playing: “i think it’s sailing. miles crashing me by. crashing me by.”

content warnings: mention of a scar (nothing about where it came from, i was thinking a bicycle accident before i decided to leave it up to interpretation), mention of "promising to stay alive", it's a therapy session so it's a free for all. lmk if i missed anything

he’s not sure he’s in the right place. maybe he missed a sign on his way in that'd tell him where to go or who he was seeing, but he'd wandered down a hall and ended up in a waiting room that had felt right initially. but now he’s wondering; he’s the only one in this tiny room, and he hasn’t seen anyone pass by. it’s silent, besides the small hum of music.

then he hears two muffled voices of laughter come from the wall behind him, and the shuffle of footsteps nearing the door to his left. he’ll find out where he is soon enough, he supposes.

the door knob clicks and creaks, automatically grabbing his attention as he looks toward the source of the noise. a girl who appears to be in her late teens or early adulthood walks out first, whom he’s never seen in his life, but he recognizes the second girl that walks out.

of course he does, how could he not?

he saw her nearly if not everyday of his life when they were kids, all the way up until their first year in high school, where gradually he started to see her less and less until he never saw her. she disappeared from the school halls and the streets they used to walk down together. he knew she was still there, somewhere, but he could never find her. they’re both frozen now, staring at each other. whoever walked out before her seems to get the message and bows slightly before taking her leave.

he’s not even sure what to say. the first words that come to mind are ‘i’m sorry.’

for what? leaving her? watching her leave and not stopping her? the next thing that comes to mind is ‘what even happened between us? i missed you.’ 

of course he fucking missed her, although it feels like he's just now fully realizing it. she had been nearly as important to him as volleyball, and it had been nice to have something in his life not connected to the sport. he loved the sport, he truly did, and it was his biggest priority when he was younger, but now he was starting to feel that passion wane, as much as he hated to admit it. if he hoped to get anything out of talking about this problem with someone, it was that he’d be able to enjoy the sport again. and maybe it’d be like old times. maybe she would be the center of gravity he revolved around again, being the anchor that keeps him upright even when times got rough. 

she felt sick, seeing him again. she had been wishing to see him again for so long, and yet apparently, in reality, she wasn’t ready to see him again. her thoughts immediately went to her appearance, and how she had looked and acted, seeing off her last client. and, most importantly, why was he here? why was she seeing him here of all places?

then it clicks. atsumu's "friend."

of course.

of course he would pull something like this.

her brain immediately goes on autopilot, because she can’t stand there all day gawking at the man who hasn’t ever left her mind. not since she first met him. not since they stopped talking to each other. not even nine years later, after the night she cried alone in her bed when she finally accepted the truth that he didn't care about her, and she’d never see him again. “om– sakusa. hi. good to see you. why don’t you come in?”

she retreats back into her office, quickly setting a pillow back up on the nearby couch in a futile attempt to tidy up the room before she retreats to her own seat.

he follow her in without a word, eyes taking in the interior of her room. he likes it more than the waiting room. there’s a wide window taking up most of the wall in front of him, displaying the sight of a more rural side of osaka. it took a train ride and a bit of a walk to get here, but seeing this view, he decides maybe it was worth it. maybe more walks in open spaces was actually all he needed to feel better.

or maybe all he needed was her presence.

she sits in a chair across from the one he’s in. there’s a small glass coffee table between them with a group of small succulents centered atop it and the decoration surprises him. for as long as he's known her, she always somehow managed to kill every bunch of flowers he gave her within a few days. his grandma would buy him a small bouquet after some of his volleyball games when he was younger and he never wanted them. he'd give them to her instead because she loved plants, despite never being able to keep them alive.

but it’s obvious from the number of pots lining her windowsill that she’s changed. he wants to bring it up, but he’s not sure what she would think. he doesn’t even know what she’s thinking about now.

it’s silent between them. the tension is suffocating. he’s not looking at her, but she can’t tear her eyes away from him. she’s never thought about how she’s grown, but looking at him now, it feels strange; like there’s a younger version of herself inside of her that can still see right through the man across from her, into the kid in him. but they’ve both matured, both locked that childish wonder behind many walls in their hearts now.

she hasn’t seen him since their first year in high school. of course, she's seen his face in print and on screens, but it was much different in person. compared to the image her eyes would always remember, of a boy with brighter eyes, filled with aspiration, always looking towards the future, the edges of his lips curved ever so slightly into a confident smile whenever he had his mask off–now he just looked tired. he had the same hooded eyes as always, yet they looked duller, and perhaps there were darker bags under them. his lips were permanently pressed into a thin line, with no traces of a smile anywhere. his frame was larger from years of hard work, yet he was downplaying it with his posture, shoulders curved and head held grim and low. his hands were long, but worn and calloused, and his legs were restless, nothing like the calm and still body that she used to stand side by side with.

“so,” she breaks the silence, knowing they’ll have to talk eventually. she’s playing with her own fingers nervously, feeling like the break of silence is a crime. she's not ready to talk to him, but maybe if she remains passive and neutral towards him, he’ll act the same way back, and they won’t have to think about how much they really know about each other–that she could still tell him exactly how many moles line his arms, and he could tell her about the scar on her upper thigh. “you made an appointment with me?”

“did you know it was me? you agreed to see me even though you knew it was me?” they’re the first words he’s said to her in years and they come out words brashfully, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth before he can even process what he’s just said.

her eyes are soft, while his are sharper and bolder. the way they droop gives her a safe, welcoming appearance as if promising that she can keep a secret, that she will listen without judging, and that he'll feel better after he talks to her. but her brows furrow in hurt, and he sees the glassy look in her eyes after his words. “i didn’t know it was you. i see atsumu all the time and he asked if i’d be willing to see one of his friends and i said of course. he said 'his friend' was on the fence about therapy so we just agreed that if he–you–wanted to see me more, we could figure that out later. i had no idea who you were–and even if i knew i did, is there something wrong with that? did i do something wrong?–” she clamps her lips shut, realizing she's said too much. she lets out a quiet sigh to restart before smoothing the fabric of her pants, “i’m sorry. that’s unprofessional of me. forget i said that last part. but i mean– did he not tell you who you were seeing? he just told you to show up here?”

he doesn’t like her being professional. he misses her smile. not the one she gave to the client she saw out before she told him to follow her in; the one that she would give him when they were together and he said something she found amusing. he doesn’t like what he said to her, and he digs his nails into his palms, regretting how this meeting has turned so sour, all because of him. “no. he didn’t,” he says, and he realizes his voice is still cold. he should add something else: “but there’s nothing wrong with that. it’s good to see you.”

he means what he says, but her frown remains, and she looks at him like she doesn’t believe him. she doesn't say anything in response, instead pulling her laptop from a nearby table onto her lap. “okay. well, you came here for a reason. what’s been going on? you can start from as far back as you want. this first meeting will serve as an introduction to both of us, so that you can get a feel for how i do things and so that i can understand what you’re going through, and how i can best help you.”

she’s cutting off any chance they have to look at each other as friends anymore, and he hates that, but there’s no way out of this spot she’s cornered him into, so he does what she asks. he tells her of the day he was benched, and how it's affected him ever since, leading to thought spirals and feelings that have been building up every day, which he's been choosing to shove down instead of getting out. 

“would you consider writing down your thoughts, then? either in a notes app or with actual pen and paper, either one works. but the action serves as a way to clear your mind. you can do it whenever you’d like, whether that be when you first wake up, at the end of the day, or even in the middle of the day. the point is to write down any thoughts you have that are stressing you out, like all the things you feel that you need to get done. you write them down so that you're able to take those thoughts out of your mind and put them somewhere instead of letting them stay stuck in there forever, bothering you and weighing you down even long after you’ve forgotten what it is you’re stressing about.”

she suggests things and reiterates some of the points he makes ever so often. the way she takes a backseat in the conversation, letting him do most of the thinking and talking, makes it easy for him to pretend he hasn’t known her for years, but he doesn’t want to think of her that way. he finds himself looking around her room as she talks, taking in all the small details. maybe on the train ride home, he'll take into consideration what she's just suggested and write down what he thinks of her office. 

her place is warm and inviting, and the more he looks at it, the more he thinks that it’s so her. from the mute, natural colors of the furniture that she’s meticulously picked out, the way she’s neatly organized a stack of papers on a desk nearby, along the same wall as the window to his side looking out to a verdant landscape– he even thinks about the books he saw on the shelf outside in her waiting room. he had recognized some of those books, and yet he hadn’t pieced together why he had such a nostalgic, longing, feeling in his chest. 

it was because it was her. 

perhaps the plants are what threw him off. the plants. again with the plants. he thinks about the daisies planted outside her house, that he passed every time he visited. he remembers seeing her mother out there, using a hose to water their flowers while she sat on the porch, waiting for him. she would complain to him about the fact that her mother wouldn’t let her help with the garden work, because of her “cursed black thumb” and the way her mother scolded her, hearing her daughter complain about her while she could still hear her.

she’s giving him the chance to pretend that they’re nothing more than a therapist and a client meeting for the first time, but he wants to decline the offer. he wants to ask her about what’s going on in her life, and he thinks maybe that would help with his own struggles, too; if he could hear about what she’s been doing with her life. he thinks it would help to go out for late dinners with her again, spend nights over at each other’s places again, and to just talk to her normally again. seeing her face once more after so long, he can’t look away. being in her presence now, sitting in a room filled with her heart, he feels a weight lift from the back of his head that he hasn’t been able to get rid of for so long. maybe she’s what he’s been missing this whole time.

his roommates know him well, atsumu knows him best, but none of them compare to her. nothing compares to the memories flowing through his head, of the late nights they spent out by the fire pit in her backyard, of nights spent in each other’s rooms, laughing and sharing stories, of the time her mother pulled out a foldable, stiff, scratchy bed stand for him to sleep on at their first sleepover when her mother wasn’t yet sure of him. he had tossed and turned around restlessly on that bedstand. when she asked him what was wrong, he told her he was homesick, and she let him sleep with her in her bed. nothing compared to the conversations they had late on his bedroom floor, where she slept beside him when it had become too weird for them to sleep in the same bed. nothing compared to the promises to stay together or to stay alive. and yet he’d broken that first promise.

he was telling her now about everything that was going on in his life, every thought he was having, but he wanted to just stop and say, “you already know this, don’t you?” because they were the same thoughts that had plagued him for years. the obsessions and compulsions that bothered him at all times, the strangling feeling in his chest–she’d heard all of this before.

but that silver laptop on her lap seems to be a wall between them, preventing them from being close like they were before. she keeps typing away, nodding, flicking her eyes up to meet his ever so often, but never too long for him to be able to read anything about them.

the time goes by faster than he thinks, and an hour has passed before he knows it. he wouldn’t have noticed if they had gone on for even longer than an hour, but she cuts them short when she puts that cursed computer to the side and straightens out her legs, “well, i would be open to meeting with you more, sakusa. everything you've told me today sounds like a lot, and i think it would be beneficial for you to have some extra support while balancing such a taxing career, but it’s your decision. the way i work, the first meeting is always free since it's just a warmup. if you want to see me again, your insurance should cover the majority of the cost. i’ll write down my email for you so that you contact me if you’d like to make another appointment and then i’ll walk you out.” she gets straight to the point, standing up and finding a stray sticky note to scribble something down on before walking towards the door like she’s eager to have him out of her space.

there’s so much he wants to say:

“call me omi, like you used to.”

“i still have your number saved, can i text you instead?”

“of course i want to see you again. and not just in this setting. but as friends.”

but he knows it’s too early to say any of that. he’s stuck in his head again, pulling at the fabric at his pants before he realizes she’s waiting on him. the door is open, and she wants him to leave. “okay,” he says quietly. “thank you for listening to me. i’ll think about it and email you if i decide i want to see you again.”

inside his head, something in him feels more triumphant, like he’s won control of the situation again. it’s his decision if he wants to see her again; he decides if she sees him again.

but in his chest, something twists. he wants her to say it back, that she wants to see him again. that it was good to see him again. but of course she won’t say that. he’s the client.

he wishes she would say something. anything. just one thing that’s not “professional,” or whatever she calls it.

“sounds good. if you send an email, just include what your availability is and i’ll tell you mine,” she says, holding out the note for him to grab as he passes by her. he feels lightheaded, and he has to force himself to keep walking, ignoring the way his body automatically pulls himself towards her.

“and sakusa,” she calls out, making him lose any sense of control he had left. he never could resist her, could he? whenever she asked him to sneak out of the house or buy her something to eat. 

he freezes in his steps and looks back at her. he’s not sure what his face looks like; if his eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape, and it’s obvious that he’s hoping she’ll say what he wants her to. or maybe his face is stern and apathetic, and he’ll shun her away like he did before.

“it sounds like you’ve made it really far. you’ve made a name for yourself, and you’re working towards your dreams. that’s good. you’re doing good,” she has a small smile on her face as she stands facing him, half hiding behind her wooden door. it’s nothing like the wide smiles she would give as his ears rang with her laughter, but maybe this one was even better. it’s a smile that says “maybe we can be more. maybe be can try again."

he’s at a loss for words, still looking at her. maybe it’s stupid and embarrassing, but he really hopes his face is expressive instead of something emotionless and unreadable. 

because he takes too long to respond, and suddenly the door is shut in his face, leaving him in her tiny square waiting room, painfully aware of how alone he is.

again.

.

.

.

" the mind forgets, but the heart always remembers. "

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

sorry for any repetition!! i tried to do it three times since that's a grammar thing i think <3

slightly more light hearted next chapter! thank u for reading <3

gonna put little notes at the end of the chapter from omi, just detailing his thoughts like y/n suggested him to do <3

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @hyenagoated @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[sizequadrant]

not right - lando norris

pairing - lando norris x reader x mention of charles leclerc.

summary - an anniversary dinner goes wrong, or does it?

warnings - swearing, slight angst, sexual mentions, fluffy at the end.

a/n - ahh my first post, pls lmk any tips you have as this is my first ever fic ive ever written. i hope you love itttt!

You knew it was wrong, theres no way it wasn’t wrong. Turning up at your now ex’s bestfriends apartment at 11pm wasn’t on your to-do list for tonight.

It started when he came home late from work, you made an amazing dinner for your 1 year anniversary.

“ y/n i’m home.” his voice was gentle but filled with tiredness, as if he hadn’t caused you hours of stress and worry.

you don’t reply, you just stay wrapped up on the couch, still in your outfit but makeup noticeably smudged.

“y/n whats wrong mon amour? ” he says just above a whisper, smiling at you.

“ Don’t mon amour me, I’ve been sat here looking stupid for 2 hours Charles, two fucking hours! ” you shout, finally rising from the couch.

his brows furrow, charles slowly walks over to me and tries to grab your hand.

“ baby don’t be like this, i wasn’t gone long and we can eat now! ” he laughs as if nothing has happened, making you even more furious.

“ eat? eat what, the cold pasta or the stale bread? i’ve been waiting forever, worrying about where you are. Not even a phone call, why do you keep doing this to me every night? ” you run my hands through your hair and walk towards the shoe rack, grabbing your heels and throwing them on.

“i cant deal with your shit anymore y/n, i have a life you know, and it doesn’t revolve around you! ” he points in your face, eyes darker than ever and teeth gritted.

your breathe hitches and you feel tears welling in your eyes. you walk out your apartment door and slam it.

And thats how you got to where you are now, stood outside of his bestfriends apartment, debating whether to ring the bell or not. After ten minutes of anticipation you finally ring the bell.

“ y/n? ” lando’s eyes widen and he puts a hand through his wet hair.

you just look at him in delusion, as if nothing was real, were you actually stood in front of him or was it in your imagination, had you really left your boyfriends apartment and come straight to his friend for comfort. Nothing felt real to you.

“ y/n look at me ” lando grabs your face and makes you look at him, wiping the smudged mascara from under your eyes.

his voice is filled with so much concern and seeing his face looking down at you with so much worry is exactly what it takes for you to finally break.

“ it went so wrong, the whole night went so wrong” you fall into his arms sobbing, clutching onto his shirt like you were begging him not to let go.

lando puts an arm on the small of your back and walks you into his apartment, slowly sitting you down on the couch next to him.

After telling him what happened, and eventually calming down, your actions become a reality and you finally realise where you are.

you stand up of landos couch and straighten out my dress, looking round the room.

“ i’m sorry i shouldn’t have come here, charles is probably waiting. ” you smile and walk towards the door and grab my jacket.

“ y/n, do you not remember why you came here? ” he walks closer to me and places a hand on your cheek, sending butterflies through your stomach.

you just look at him in awe, something inside you takes over, you grab the back of his neck and put your lips on his, His kiss was too addicting.

it was almost everything you craved for. The way his lips moved on yours, the soft moan that slipped from his lips, and how his gaze had settled on you. His hand roamed around your body freely as if he knew it like the back of his hand.

you snap out of the trance he had you in, finally thinking about the actions you were doing.

you pull away and throw your hand over your mouth, putting your other on your stomach, feeling violently sick that you had just cheated on your boyfriend with one of his bestfriends.

“ i cant do this lando, i have a boyfriend ” you bite my bottom lip anxiously and turn quickly on my heel.

“ do whatever you thinks right y/n ” he smiles at you softly, making you nearly drop to my knees.

you smile back and walk out of his apartment door, walking through the streets of Monaco full of guilt, but also full of wonder.

what were you going to do?

[haykawas]

✩•̩̩͙*˚ BLOSSOMING LOVE ROUTE

this is one of the possible endings to a story! lost yourself? begin here! Ah, so you've decided to go the easy route and continue with your childhood sweetheart, I see. Great choice! – wc : 2.1K

Satoru calls your name, confusion seeping through his tone. 

“Why are you chasing me, Satoru? Go away.”

“Why are you running away?” 

He catches up to you in a few strides, and you mentally curse at him for having such long legs. His fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you, but you violently yank your arm back.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me!”

He continues to speak, and although you can hear his voice, the words make no sense to you. 

It keeps ringing in your head. What’s wrong?

It’s like he has no clue what he does to you, how his actions make you feel. It makes you wonder if he even cares, with the way he never notices anything. It’s like he makes himself blind on purpose and turns off all of his senses when you’re in the room.

You’re sick of it.

“What’s wrong?” You echo him, “Do you seriously have no clue, Gojo? Or do you just pretend to, like you always do?”

He knows it’s serious because you never use his last name, and his heart clenches at the thought he’s possibly hurt you deeply.

“Pretend? What do you mean?” He presses his lips in a thin line. He thinks he might know why you’re so upset, and he’s afraid to hear you confirm it.

“I know you heard what I said.” You finally breathe out. “I saw the expression on your face change and the look in your eyes! You… You looked… Disgusted.”

His lips part to answer, but nothing comes out. 

“That’s what I thought.”

“Wait! Please, just…” His voice breaks. Of course he knows, because how couldn’t he? You always had this nasty habit of raising your voice when you talked about something you were passionate about, and this particular time, he'd been just on time to hear you speak of him with so much passion.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “It’s not… I don’t know how to do shit like this, okay? I’m not used to it!”

“Do what?”

“This! Just…” He waves his hands around, “It scares me, alright?”

“What? Feelings?”

He purses his lips together.

Your laugh is bitter, “And you think it’s easy for me, do you? That pining after my childhood best friend for months was fun? At least spare me a little and reject me upfront! What the fuck, Satoru! How could you be so- so-”

“So what?” He scoffs, “Say it.”

“So selfish!” You accuse, your voice echoing into the night. “You’re egotistical, and you always think the world revolves around you! Because you bear all the suffering in the world, don’t you? And I don’t know for the life of me why I fell in love with you!”

The words hang between you in the deafening silence of night. You don’t mean them, those words spoken under the influence of your frustration. 

Yet, you don’t correct yourself.

Still, a thin layer of regret starts to plague your mind when you see Satoru’s eyes flash with hurt and disbelief, and you avert your gaze.

You quickly dismiss the feeling. 

“Take that back. ” He demands, his voice a little rough. It’s more like a plea.

“What?”

“The last part, take it back. You don’t mean it.” 

Your frustration morphs into bitterness, and defiance bubbles into you.

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?”

“I don’t think you want to know that.” He shoots back, taking a step forward in defiance.

“Oh, yeah?” You scoff, still refusing to back down from the argument. “Bet.”

The tension crackles between you, so much that you don’t notice how close you are to him. You’re so close you can feel his breath against your cheeks as you gaze into his baby-blue eyes.

And you’re so entranced by the sight that you don’t notice as he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate, forceful kiss. 

You gasp in surprise.

He tries to dominate you, and while it hasn’t registered in your brain that you are kissing him, you return it as simply as it is breathing. It’s a fight for dominance, one that leads your back to be pressed against the wall of an alley, 

And it ends as suddenly as it begins, leaving you panting and confused against a stone-cold wall.

Satoru’s breath is ragged, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks slightly rosy from the cold. A grin spreads, almost boyish in its charm, and he leans down to kiss you again. This time, he captures your lips in a softer, more tender kiss, like he’s apologizing for the previous one.

You kiss back.

It’s not until you part again that the situation finally dawns on you.

“W–what–” You turn your back to him when you feel your cheeks grow warm, your hands covering your mouth.

“Why did you do this?” You ask in a whisper, your mind still a little fuzzy.

He walks around to stand in front of you, gently taking your hands in his so he can take a look at your face. Your cheeks are flushed, and he finds it so endearing he could have melted right then and there. He leans his head towards you, his finger tapping on your jaw to get you to look at him.

“We’re friends, right? Friends kiss each other all the time.” He jokes, and you instantly hit him on the shoulder. He laughs, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay! Stop!”

“I’m serious, Satoru. If this is some game to you…”

“Oh, come on! Am I such a whore in your eyes?” You look at him pointedly, and he says, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.”

“You know,” He sighs, “I’m surprised Suguru managed to keep the secret for so long.”

“What secret?”

He says your name ever so softly with a tone you’ve never heard from him before, “And here I thought I was being way too obvious.” He laughs softly, “I’ve actually..” He hesitates, and you realize it must be serious. You’ve rarely seen Satoru unsure of himself, when he’s usually the friend everyone goes to for a confidence boost.

He takes a deep breath, “I think I’ve loved you since forever, you know?” 

The revelation makes your breath catch in your throat, and he can’t seem to maintain eye contact. He’s rehearsed this moment so many times in his head, but now that he’s here, before you, he’s afraid he might just stutter and ruin it. Satoru might have been a confident man, but he isn’t used to expressing his feelings with words. He’s used to showing affection through actions or quality time, so this is uncharted territory for him. And he’s not sure he likes it.

“And I know what you’re thinking. That I’m full of shit because it feels like I’ve been pushing you into Sugu’s arms the whole time, but I genuinely thought you liked him.” He laughs softly.

All of it is true. The fact that he's been feeling strangely around both of his best friends since they started getting closer and going out without him. It used to be just you and him, or him and Suguru. Then it was all of you, but recently it'd felt like it was just the both of you.

And he felt... left out.

And as stupid as it was, he believed that making up a new crush and some excuses would spare him from confronting the sight of Suguru making doe eyes at you when he thought you weren't looking.

“And I wouldn't have blamed you," He chuckles, "Plus, you have to admit you’ve both been very close recently! I felt like some shitty third wheel most of the time.” He finishes with a playful roll of his eyes.

You hadn’t realized he felt that way, that your growing proximity with Suguru would make him keep his distances from you. They were always both trying to help you, in their own way. And you feel like you don’t deserve any of them in your life.

“But yeah, it’s…” He takes a deep breath, and says the words you've been wanting to hear for a long time now. “I love you. Since the first time I saw you play by yourself on those shitty swings at the neighboring park and decided to join you. You know how I’ve always been scared of heights? I mean, it’s not something I developed over time. I guess I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, at the time.” He chuckles. “Old habits die hard.” He adds with a shy smile, and you notice how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other, as if to focus his attention somewhere else. He’s nervous.

“And the way I reacted when I heard you two talk earlier? I just freaked out, I guess. I was just so…”

Scared. He doesn’t finish his sentence, but the word hangs heavy. 

“It’s not every day you learn your best friend loves you back, right?” A small laugh leaves his lips, “I never thought it’d happen, but now that it is… I don’t know.”

“I’m not easy, you know that. And I don’t want to lose you over what-ifs.”

The weight of his words settles in the silence that follows, and it’s your crude response that shatters the stillness.

“You’re fucking stupid, Satoru.” Your words resonate harshly, but it has to be said. Because yes, you also considered the possibility this might not work out. You pondered over the question for hours on end, spent restless nights convincing yourself you shouldn’t act on it in fear you might lose your most precious friend as a result.

Yet, the accumulation of secrets has inflicted more damage to your relationship than the actual attempt to explore something new. And you’re tired of hiding between lies and excuses.

Satoru’s eyes widen, lips parting in protest, but you press on, not allowing him time to interject. 

“You’re stupid if you think things won’t change. Because flash news, Satoru, they will!”

“But you’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine.” You exhale. “But is that all you want me to be?” You ask. “Tell me it is and I’ll stop chasing after you like some fool. I’ll pretend this conversation never happened, and everything will go back to normal. I promise you.”

“You know I can’t do that.” He admits, voice soft. His eyes sparkle with an unknown motion, and you can’t avert your gaze. “I just didn’t want to complicate things.”

“And what if I like complicated?” You respond with pursed lips.

Your eyes lock, and he knows he won’t be able to change your mind. And just like that, you’ve won him over a second time.

“Alright.” He whispers. “Then let’s complicate them.”

You find yourselves back at your apartment before you can blink.

You can’t keep your hands off of each other, and he keeps leaning in to plant small kisses on your lips for every little step you take. 

It’s annoying, yet… Yet you don’t want him to stop.

You’re not usually that cheesy, but when it comes to him? You don’t think you know who you are anymore. You don’t care. He makes your cheeks hurt from smiling too hard, and your ears redden from the way he simply looks at you.

He’s your favorite color. Your favorite melody.

He’s light in the darkness, blinding you with the twinkle of his eyes and the gleam of his smile. He shines so brightly it burns you, scorching you whole when his skin touches yours, fingers groping at your flesh and tugging at your clothes. Your hands pull on his roots as you deepen the kiss he initiated, the shy little sounds he tries to hold back like music to your ears. You want this moment to never end, to be the last person he’ll ever touch like this, to be the only one to ever elicit such sweet sounds from him.

The taste of him lingers on your tongue as you part, and you feel like you’ve gone utterly insane. You’ve gone mad because his lips are like liquor and you’re drunk on them, the sole prospect of continuing your life without ever being able to taste them again making your heart ache.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t even notice you started tearing up until he gently tilts your head to the side, holding your chin so tenderly as he kisses your cheeks through the tears, his lips occasionally ghosting over your skin.

You should feel shame for showing Satoru your tears in a moment so intimate, yet you don’t feel anything akin to it, at all. He’s your best friend. He’s never let you feel like you had to be ashamed of your emotions, and that will never change. He knows you need this, that those tears are the result of months and months of accumulated frustration just exploding out of you.

“Let me make it up to you.” He whispers, eyes pleading. Regret is plaguing his mind. He never wanted to be the person who would make you cry.

“Yeah, how? You have a lot to make up for.”

He hums, his head nestled in the crook of your neck and his lips ghosting over your throat, “It’s up to you.” He whispers. “I’ll do everything you need me to.”

So? How should he make it up to you?

Sweet and soft, please!

No? ... Oh, you're dirty.

rbs are much appreciated <3

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A message.

I’d like to start by saying once more (due to it being the cause of so many hateful messages) that I support Palestine.

I donate to charities that fund several of the organisations that help and I use my business in the best way I can to give my services for free to fundraisers that also raise money for these causes. Shy of showing you my personal bank statements and private emails between myself and my clients, I don’t have any ways of showing this on tumblr.

I have several social media platforms, I have a business that I run, I have friends and family I talk to, I have an entire life off of this website. I choose to use tumblr to post my writing and for the most part, it’s become a really important space for me. Writing is one of the few things I truly do for myself. I enjoy it immensely and it can really bring me a lot of peace.

I choose not to blog anything other my writing, other people’s writing and general fandom related things on my blog because I like to keep it as that small space for myself and one of the things I love most. I understand wholly that that is a privilege in itself and I will not shy away from that fact.

However, I will not condone being hunted for the choices I make. For the vast majority of you, I am a stranger online and no one, absolutely no one, knows what I do off of this website. I won’t allow anyone to judge me on what they don’t see and don’t understand.

The size of my following was not a choice I made, it was not something I deliberately aimed for and it was not something I tried hard to make sure I achieved. It wasn’t the goal of this blog. I don’t deem myself capable of “influencing” anyone in anyway. I’m a fanfiction writer. I’m not a politician, I don’t claim to be the most educated person on political and worldwide matters. I simply would like to believe that everyone tries to help in anyway they can. I know not everyone has the financial means to donate and instead they choose to raise awareness in other ways - that’s absolutely okay.

But I - and others - do not have to follow the rule book someone else deemed law. You see, I gave my views and reasons and it wasn’t good enough. And now, if I chose to reblog certain things, I’m pretty sure I’d be dragged for being performative, or “back tracking.” I fear that with some people, who like to hide behind an anonymous button, I cannot win. Despite an argument revolving around real life issues, I think I can safely say it came across as a very personal attack.

As other people have mentioned before, I also don’t enjoy the idea of writing smut and happy ever after’s about our favourite fictional men and then reblogging the death of others in real life straight after. I know that’s the world right now. I’m aware. I read articles, I watch the news, I follow accounts on Twitter, on Instagram and I try and keep myself as up to date and as educated as possible. I just don’t show that on this one platform.

As many of you know, I do run my own business. I’m also five months pregnant. I’m definitely experiencing more stress than I usually do. I’m very happy and enjoying my pregnancy immensely but I struggled with sickness and tiredness for the majority of it so far. Whats to come in the next four months and beyond fills me with excitement and anxiety and nerves. Coming onto tumblr and writing about fiction is a little reprieve from that - again, a privilege I am so aware of.

But I won’t be tolerating any more hateful messages, I won’t be arguing with anyone. I’m not lowering myself to it. You can talk about me passively aggressively, you can choose to hate me, that’s fine. I’m happy blocking people and moving on. Anons will be off indefinitely, it’s been proven that too many people are willing to hide behind them. After the messages regarding myself and my unborn child, quite frankly, there’s not a lot of trust left when it comes to knowing how far people will sink.

I’ve said all I’d like to say on the matter, I’ve told people where I stand, my views on the genocide that is occurring, what I’m able to do about it in my personal life and why I choose to keep this particular space the way I do.

I hope everyone can try to understand and respect that. If you don’t, that’s fine, that’s your prerogative. I don’t go out of my way to challenge, or police, or demand things from people I do not know. I hope that no one thinks that they have the right to do that to myself and others. I’m under no obligation to follow someone else’s rules.

I don’t know what the future holds for this blog, pregnancy and real life is very much taking priority over writing at the moment, but I do like to try when I can. I can’t lie either, the messages and their content that I received really left me feeling dejected and frustrated, this fandom really has turned into something rather poisonous. I’d like to be able to rise above it and in the mean time, even if I’m not always present, I’d like people to be able to access the stories I worked really hard on.

Thank you for reading,

Emmy 🧡

[crxss01]

— Rosa Pastel (2)

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ after four months of having broken up with miles an event leads you right back into his arms.

warnings ✧˖ ° gaslighting, manipulation, toxic relationship, threatening, unwanted flirting, miles is a major red flag, violence, mentioned murder, stalking.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ princesa: princess, mi angelito: my little angel, bonito: handsome/pretty boy, los mataré, entiendes?: i'll kill them, understand?

a/n . . ◟੭ here’s part one! heyy, loves! i’m sorry for the long wait, i have been busy writing other fics and with real life things!

four months.

it has been four months since you left miles and you couldn't feel anymore miserable, your entire world had revolved around him and it was like it stopped the motion the moment you broke up with him.

he hadn't tried anything to approach you or even contact you, part of it made you mad but the other part was relieved because you didn't know what you would do if miles tried to explain himself again while you were still vulnerable.

you have tried to go on multiple dates since then, but they turned out really badly since either the person was the rudest one you have ever met or stood you up. you were tired of that, what was wrong with this people? asking someone on a date just to treat them like shit, then never trying to speak with you again or not show at all.

now you were getting ready for a party, almost done with your look. you had spent most of the time stressing out on what to wear because you wanted attention but not that much attention so you had to figure out something fast.

after deciding which dress to wear you did your makeup and hair, before putting on some short heeled stilettos to finish off the look. you sighed looking at the mirror, maybe today you could forget about him for a while and focus on having fun for once.

grabbing your purse and double checking that everything you needed was inside of it, you left your house. breathing in the fresh air, you started walking to the convenience store, wanting to buy something before calling an uber.

however your plans changed when you noticed a group of men standing there drinking, smoking and looking crazy. you turned, deciding to just make your way back home and call the uber. the streets were dangerous ever since captain morales died and you didn't want to fall victim to any of this men.

"hey, sweetheart! where you going?" one of them noticed you and called out.

you cursed under your breath, squeezing your eyes together and walking faster.

"now, why are you walking so fast? huh?" the same one that had talked before had ran towards you and caught your arm in his grasp.

"please, leave me alone." now you were scared.

"and why would i do that?" he eyed you from head to toe. "aren't you a doll, wanna go back to my place?"

it sounded like a question but you knew that it wasn't. "listen, i just wanna go home."

"i can go home with you too." he laughed and the others, who you didn't notice had gotten closer, started laughing too.

five grown men surrounding you. this night couldn't get any worse. the one holding you took out a pocket knife and ran it across your face.

"let go of me!" you said, trying to keep it together and not show any fear.

"i don't think so." the man shook his head with a sick grin on his face, lifting the knife from your face and shaking it as well. "now—"

there was a loud slashing sound and suddenly the man was on the floor, blood pooling around him, four deep slashes across his back.

you knew who it was from and you didn't hesitate to run, it was hard on heels but you made it home, locking the door behind you and putting a hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs.

miles had just killed someone. right in front of you, he just killed him. you slid down the door, your hand still covering your mouth as tears fell down from your eyes.

"don't cry, mami." the voice scared you but you had no energy to jump at the sound or to start yelling at him for what he did. "that man ain't worth it."

"just leave me alone, please..." you managed to say.

"what if someone tries to break in?" miles asked, kneeling in front of you. "what if you get harassed again? won't you want me there for you? to protect you?"

you finally looked over at him, a claw was laying beside him, covered in blood and his suit had some fresh blood on it.

"you killed them all?" you asked.

"of course i did," he nodded with a sweet smile, making him appear so innocent. "one laid his hands on you while the others just watched. they all deserved what they got."

"you killed them."

"yes, and i would do it again to protect you."

"miles, you killed." you took a shaky breath. "because of me."

"no, princesa." he shook his head. "i killed for you. there is a difference."

"what difference?" you asked angrily. "it's all the same. for me, because of me. it's my fault they died."

"no, it's their fault for messing with what's mine." miles corrected. "i was just protecting you, princesa. if i had let them live they could have attacked you again or another person."

you thought about this, he was right. "they could've attacked another person." you repeated and nodded. "you're right."

"of course, i'm right." miles smirked, knowing that he was breaking through. "i always make sure you're okay, even checking in on the guys you set up your little dates with."

"what?" you asked confused.

"well, some of them weren't nice to my princesa so i had to take care of that. and others didn't deserve a date with you." he shrugged.

"but you only did that to protect me, right?"

"of course, mi angelito." he nodded.

"everything that you have done was for that too?"

"yes," miles nodded, encouraging your thoughts of you needing him. "so will you take me back?"

"yeah," you nodded, wiping your tear stained cheeks with a smile.

"good," miles nodded and grabbed your chin with the same hand he used to kill, pulling you in to leave a peck on your lips. "you are never going to leave me again, understand?"

you nodded.

"i asked if you understand?" he said more forcefully.

"yes, bonito." you answered verbally this time.

miles smirked. "good."

he pulled you back in for a real kiss this time, his mouth coming in contact with yours into a blissful kiss. his tongue pushed its way inside your mouth, fighting yours and winning, exploring every inch of the place he missed so much.

"don't ever think about going out with other men again." miles said between kisses. "los mataré, entiendes?"

"yes." you nodded and pulled him back in to kiss him.

you just missed him so much. why were you so stupid to leave him in the first place? all he wanted was to protect you.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @banqnaz @yourlocalstranger123 @weirdomcu @ilovemiguelohara28 @tlatziuh @edgyficuselastica @hoseokslefteyebrow (i added the people who were interested in a part two)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[yourlocaltreesimp]

A Hero’s guide on how to heal pt. 2

pushing my chubby sky propaganda again. @biblicallyinaccuratespoons come get your food. This is a part 2, but you do not need to read part 1 to understand what is going on.

CW: Senstitive topics, proceeded with caution

Part 1 is non x reader

Part 2 (you are here) is an x reader because i’m a simp

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Truly, Sky was proud of how far he’d come. He was content to not be in what the people thought as ‘his prime’ anymore, especially since he knew what it really entailed. The life of a hero is appealing until you become familiar with being so hungry you can feel the emptiness carving at your sternum, and so tired you hallucinate.

Being a hero sounds glamorous until that’s all you ever get to be.

It’s all you let yourself be — perfection. And nothing else.

Truely, he never much cared for the term anyway.

That sentiment only becomes truer once he looks past the beginning of his journey.

When he was allowed to simply just be himself.

He was scrawny and awkward. He fumbled his way through life and confrontations, doing whatever he felt was right. He slept through his classes and would sneak into the kitchen at night to steal food.

He didn’t need top marks like Zelda, or a group of yes men like Groose.

He only cared to be content with himself.

Of course, this all fell apart come the time when he’d attach his self worth to his performance as hero.

Once his thoughts began to shift, thinking that not only did he have to save Skyloft and kill demise, but that he needed to live up to this tall tale of what he was supposed to be. That this heroism, ingrained in his very soul, was the marker of his being. This is why he lived.

So he began to build his life around it.

His schedule did not revolve around fulfilling his own life as much as it did saving others.

Perhaps, then, it’s no surprise the people in Hyrules following make him out to be something he isn’t. A vague, shifting figure amidst a surprisingly rigid history. In the act of changing and melding himself to every point of view, every requirement and request, he tucked the truth of himself further away from the eyes of history.

Truthfully, and perhaps slightly shamefully, Sky admits that he would’ve done anything to live up to those expectations. More than he already had.

If someone had told him, at his most vulnerable, that he had to die a martyr, he wouldn’t have even dug a grave.

That thought was a comfort back then. That maybe he’d be asked to just give up. That he’d be relieved of his service. That he’d be perfect in the eyes of history. That despite the fact he was hungry, and tired, and sick, and aching, he’d done what he needed to do.

If death cleansed his soul and finally made him good enough, life was no longer worth living.

Now, he wishes he could go back.

To tell that younger version of himself that it’s ok.

That he’s not perfect and never will be. But it feels so much better when you’re loved for who you are rather than who you wish you’d be.

Admittedly, though, he couldn’t have learned that on his own. All of Skyloft knew him from before and would love him regardless of how much he’d seek to harm himself.

He would’ve never fixed himself if he stayed stagnant.

He needed change.

He needed the change to crack and to break him before he could be remolded and refused.

In the end, he didn’t save himself. Even if he was The Hero.

It was the chain, their brotherhood and support that showed him there were people that understood. People who actually wish for you to be better (as in actually wanting you to be healthy rather than stronger or faster). People who’ve been through the same struggles and problems. People who know what he needs and how to support him.

All at once, he wasn’t alone anyone.

There was so much of himself in each of them. It was impossible to be alone.

Beyond that was you. His lover. That showed him constantly how love should make you giddy and proud of what you are instead of hungering to be more, even if it was ‘to your advantage’ (but you never did care about how he benefited you, did you? he was always more to you than his abilities). You didn’t care for some hero and their acts of service to the goddesses.

You cared about an awkward dork who couldn’t even think about you without his lovesick heart fluttering.

But perhaps most ironically of all; he achieves more now than he did back when he thought suffering meant efficiency.

He can strategize for more enemies and more complex group dynamics when he’s fully slept. He can work his muscles for longer and at higher intensity than when he was skin and bone. He doesn’t feel that aching sense of emptiness, the nausea of hunger looming over him.

He’s comfortable, the chill no longer nipping at his bones when there’s layers of healthy fat to insulate him.

He’s comfortable, You’re able to curl up onto his chest without crushing him.

He’s comfortable. He finally feels right in his skin. That this is where he’s supposed to be, and exactly who he’s supposed to be. Regardless of what people expect of him, regardless of what people judge of him.

[pixelatedraindrops]

RAINCODE 4KOMA COMIC PROJECT

Next page

This is another project that I'm currently working on with @kazinsblog! We adore makoyuma and they're our number one faves.

So we decided to make a little 4koma style side special of Kazin's mini series "The Kanai Ward Case Files"

This intro is the only normal comic in this story.

Prologue: Flu season hits worldwide, and Makoto calls Yuma one day and gives him the warning. Yuma notices his congested voice so he wants to head to to Kanai Ward to check on him. But meanwhile, Yuma is trying his best to hold his cough as he talks on the line. Only to suffer the fit after Makoto hangs up. He isn't well either.

When Yuma arrives in Kanai Tower finding Makoto completely disheveled and passed out at his work desk, he ushers the stuffy CEO to bed. The two were shown pushing themselves while being sick alone. But now that they're together, these stubborn workaholics will finally rest and break from their duties in order to take care of each other. (for the most part anyway)

further information below

Of course since I'm involved in this project, they're obviously not going to be doing well... XD But this story is going to be a lot more fun and lighthearted than others I have written. (It's essentially written in a silly sick filler episode of a cartoon kind of vibe) meaning less whump, and more sick comfort and hilarity. There may be a few somewhat whumpy ones here and there (I can't resist) but it won't be as common.

Full Story Summary:

This RainCode fan side story revolves around slice of life comedy 4koma style strips with scenes of Yuma and Makoto being sick together and spending time with each other in Kanai Tower for about a week or two. They both have different halves of cold symptoms, Yuma with throat based, and Makoto with nasal based. (hence the title) Various cute and wacky stuff happen between the two and their bond grows stronger spending this time off together away from their duties as detective and CEO. They may be sick and miserable, but at least they're in it together! What could possibly go wrong?

The comic strips will be drawn by Kazin, but there will be some bonus art that the two of us will work on together (similar to the title which was a collab by us both)

Also, both of us agreed that these strips should be posted on my blog rather than Kazin's. Reason being is that this story is based on illness and my blog is half an illness blog so it makes more sense to share it to mine. You all likely expect this sort of thing from me at this point anyway… XD (I’m also the director so I write the descriptions of them.)

And this series will continue to be ongoing so long as Kazin and I have ideas. (we currently have almost 100 strips planned)

I will update this in separate posts whenever more strips get fully digitally drawn by Kazin whenever she can work on them. With the tag #kanaiwardcasefiles h&h. Some strips will be random, some will be two parters, and some will have a timeline or are connected to others.

We both hope you look forward to this project! There will be a lot of funny and cute moments between these two, so we hope you makoyuma enjoyers are excited!

Also bit of a fun fact: This was inspired by when my mother and I had covid late April 2024. Something similar happened to us, and we each had one cold-like symptom more than the other. (her with coughing and me with congestion) So I thought of this idea for these two!

[mariailoveyou-guerin]

the way this fandom has no sympathy for marina who went through all of this and worse in that household then pen or cress ever did in theirs btw but Cressida getting sent to the country side is where they all of sudden get all the empathy in the world or have it in abundance for cress pen or Portia bc she was just being mother protecting her kids right (like marina was doing to live a rich life for herself plz) or for Pen(but this is more jealousy bc marina is that girl + racism by isncure yt woman) and they want me or anyone to hate marina like she has ever done anythin wrong in her life

it was only ever Colin Marina who was victims of Pen anger N insecurity everyone else P only wrote what she had heard in the ton and with Eloise she saved her from the queen let’s not lie to much on Pen people use marina as scapegoat to hate on Pen but yeah I won’t allow y’all to use my girl for her pen hatred agenda especially since y’all couldn’t give two fcvls about marina and only talk about her when it’s to hate on pen bc y’all have that the show revolves around Pen or LW which in return means the show revolves around Nic a yt woman and y’all can’t stand that I have no problem with Pen aside from the fact of what she did to marina especially and Colin and how she never apologized for

both of those things to the people she did and i also have huge problem sign her hypocrisy over how she and Colin got married like that wasn’t exactly what hag she was saying marina was doing to Colin 😂 those things aside I’m on team pen on everything else in the sense that once she apologizes fully to Marina and gives her a way out of her marriage if she’s not happy in it because she’s the reason she’s even in that marriage with a man she didn’t know! Like I want pen getting marina out of the situation she put her in by idk maybe getting the queen to annul her marriage to Phillip that way my giro doesn’t have to die so two yet people can be happy and game her kids which gives me the biggest disgusting feeling in my whole body like how are they not seeing how weird that is for them to k word my girl so two yt can be better parents to her kids please it’s giving poor black babies getting away from their horrible black mother getting saved by the nice rich yt girl please if Pen doesn’t do something that stops marina from having this fate that she’s only even in because of pen trust I will become the biggest pen

anti in the history of pen antis! Like use ur powers that you weren’t even willing to give away for the man that you love the man you ruined a innocent teenage girl for but couldn’t give away ur little panflit for bc LW is what power we’ll use that so called power and your connection with the queen being her ally or confidant to get marina out of that marriage so she can stay alive with her kids and have her happy ending and good life with her babies and she doesn’t have to d word so the two yet people can get her babies like nah that’s sick! also give her that 20K you was billing to give cress who was blackmailing you with and give it to the girl whom you hurt exposed ruined and put in danger as start on the apology that’s never gonna be enough but it’s start

and I love Nic so love seeing the show revolve around Nic because she is that girl she’s my girl always even if I can’t stand pen until she corrects her mistakes with my girl the girl marina and what she did to Colin in s3

[summershouto]

baby 5 & sanji- the role of gender

I’m definitely not the first person to say this but Sanji’s women obsession is very similar to Baby 5’s need to please and I wanted to expand on it more bc the thoughts keep bouncing around in my brain 

Sanji and Baby 5 have the same core need to find love and it effects their actions- especially in matters with romance/the opposite sex. While both of their fixations are often treated as jokes, they still reflect underlaying issues tied to their backstories.

The way they act on this romantic drive is somewhat different, as they both assume the traditionally expected roles in accordance with their gender. They’re putting on a performance, behaving over-the-top in effort to please, while still varying in how they portray their love-sickness to remain a model man/woman. these differences set them apart, and I feel in Sanji’s case it can result in his behavior being brushed off as simply a weird quirk (unlike Baby 5, who’s actions remain lighthearted but are recognized as a trauma response).

They both have the same reaction to potential interest/attention, but remain strictly on the opposite ends of the spectrum of Man vs Woman in a conventional relationship. 

Baby 5 maintains a caretaking, flattering-focused obsession of the opposite sex rather than transforming into having pervy gags. She wants to be needed but she also enjoys (and sometimes imagines) being swooned over.

Looking at Sanji in the beginning, before the annoying nosebleed/creep gags became more prominent, he was also rather romance driven rather than motivated by lust. He, similar to Baby 5, saw many as potential suitors; a hopeless romantic at heart. While Baby 5 strikes at the first sign of interest from a man, Sanji equally treats every woman as someone he needs to look after . 

Baby 5 jumps into the role of a caring wife. She blushes like a schoolgirl and assumes that every man who is kind is showing interest in her. Meanwhile Sanji, filling the role of a traditional man in the relationship, seeks to provide. He wants to aid women in any way possible- whether thats with cooking or actual physical protection. His pervy gags could also be read as a way to fit this norm- as a man it’s more societally acceptable to be lust driven- (and in some cases, lust/sex is a way to “prove” ones manhood).  This is especially prominent after his time apart from the crew surrounded by people that challenged his notions of gender.

Overall their use of these traditional gender roles are safe; an easy way to get attention. People in real life often use romantic attention as means of fulfillment, and I read their actions as the same.

Baby 5 and Sanji are both people pleasers. Baby 5 is named as such, noting she can’t deny anyone anything because she longs to be needed. Sanji’s lack of self-worth causes him to always put others first, even at the cost of his own wellbeing. They see themselves as existing to fulfill a needed role, bidding their time until the moment arises. 

Other people have noted how similar Baby 5 and Sanji are in this way, joking that it’s good Sanji and Baby 5 never met because they’d get married instantly. I think it would actually be very interesting if they had met. Two people pleasers in a relationship is a recipe for disaster, especially with people as passionate as Baby 5 and Sanji. Their way of dealing with conflict would be to.. not. Neither would ever want to say the other is at fault. Their approach towards romance is seeking a sense of fulfillment, which would create an interesting dynamic with their exaggerated swooning. 

Now there are some people who truly are greatly motivated to pursue relationships, but with Sanji and Baby 5’s backstories revolving around a lack of love,  it’s safe to assume that it’s a bit more of an inorganic reaction for them. Especially when looking at the situations their love gets them into, such as when Baby 5 fell head over heels for a man because he was kind to her once despite not showing any prior attraction. 

Sanji is on the opposite side of the spectrum, finding /every/ woman beautiful and himself unworthy. Where Baby 5 aims to prove her worth from any one person and seeks a reason for her receiving kindness, Sanji places himself below all the women he meets and grovels in attempt to please as they stand on their pedestals. 

Sanji was raised by Zeff- someone who had a strong influence in how Sanji perceives and treats women. Sanji’s hunger for love was enhanced by the teaching of strict gender roles and emphasis on chivalry. While Baby 5 longs to be the helpful wife, Sanji becomes the pursuer- acting like a white knight as he sought women’s attention. That’s not to say his attraction isn’t real, but his extreme reactions to women reflect his desperation to please. 

Sanji also has the added factor of the men vs women in his life prior to Zeff, with only his mother and sister showing him kindness. Women were safer; and Zeff furthered this belief through his teachings.  

They’re both self-sacrificial to a dangerous degree. To them, their lives are indispensable; meaning if someone needs to die for the greater good then that’s the role they feel they were made for. Their life IS other people.

This is also interesting to consider in the perspective of non-heterosexual relationships. Sanji has a complicated past with gender/sexuality, so his aggressive actions towards men reflect what he feels a “real man” should be. Feminine attention is good, acceptable to enjoy, but male attention is something to scorn.

For Baby 5, we don’t really see her react to the kindness of a woman. She grew up around predominantly men and men appear to be the ones who most often take advantage of her. It’s curious to consider if meeting another woman with good intentions would allow her to be more sincere. 

I guess in conclusion I often see Baby 5’s actions being recognized as a response to her past, but I don’t often see Sanji’s explained similarly. Personally I think Sanji’s behavior is greatly effected by his starve for love, and he throws himself into it just like Baby 5. However, the way theyre perceived is greatly effected by their gender and their according behavior to fit the norms. Regardlessly, he and Baby 5 both rely on other people to find their worth- and the quickest way to do that is to turn to romantic love.