#and how that reflects in their relationship

[giannaln4]

I Missed You

lando norris x fem reader

summary: You missed seeing Lando being happy after a race, and you couldn't wait to tell him how proud you were.  (1.4k words)

warnings: fluff, stablished relationship, a bit of mclaren slander

a/n: when i tell you i loved this idea SO SO much. i’m not too sure i’m happy with how this turned out but i really hope you guys enjoy it 🩷 i apologise for posting this just before the race but it was a bit hard to get started for some reason 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

check out the original request here!

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The weekend in Monza was one you were hoping to forget. The tension in the air reflected not only in the team but also in the comments people were making about it, having even sports commentators and content creators question McLaren’s entire strategy to keep their fighting position in the WCC and also have a shot at the WDC. 

Lando’s demeanour immediately after getting off the car was something you would never forget, though, even if you tried. It was pretty obvious for everyone, even if he tried his hardest to never say something bad about his team and his teammate. That team was his home anyway. He had been with McLaren even before his F1 career started, and even after weekends like this one, he would never doubt he wanted to achieve great things with them.

That is probably what made it harder for him. This year they were competing not only for points and podiums but for something bigger, and after knowing what he is capable of, ending up in that position absolutely crushed him, and you hated to see him debating with himself. 

Once the weekend was finally over and you were leaving Italy, you wanted to make him feel better, telling him how great he was and how proud you were. You even shot some comments at McLaren for everything that went down, but he didn’t want to hear it; he barely wanted to talk about it, so you just dropped it. You understood him anyway, so you had to leave everything behind and just be supportive of your boyfriend.

You were hoping this weekend would be different, better, everyone was, and there was a lot of talking in the team that they would make the right decisions to keep fighting now that they had the chance. This, of course, would only mean something until they actually proved it during the race. 

Lando was in a better mood coming into this weekend; he trusted his team and he was confident they were backing him up. That was until the qualifying came. A yellow flag being pulled out by mistake during Q1 caused him to lose the opportunity to even put up a fight, and he ended up being P17. It wasn’t even his fault, but you knew he was beating himself up for that result. 

“Lando,” you called him right after he came back to the garage to watch the rest of the qualifying. He looked at you with a disappointed smile. “It’s not your fault, baby.”

“I know.” He pulled you into a hug, not wanting you to worry about him too much. “There’s nothing I could have done. We just have to wait and see what we can do tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you replied into his chest, rubbing small circles in his back to let him know you were there for him, no matter what. 

“We’ll see. The car felt okay, but it’s hard to overtake on this track. It’s quite a long straight.” He let out a nervous giggle as he pulled away; he didn’t sound as confident as you were hoping, but you knew he was right. “Some of it is just going to have to cross our fingers.”

There was no point in fighting him when he got like that, so you just nodded. “I’ll be crossing everything I have then.”

He went off with the rest of his team as you stayed back to watch the rest of the cars complete the qualifying. The air was starting to get tense again, and even though you knew everyone was nervous with Lando’s result, you weren’t sure if it was just your own feelings talking. But like Lando said, you were going to have to wait and see what the team could come up with, you were just hoping they would do the right thing.

Race day was finally here, and with Lewis starting from the pit lane due to a new power unit and Pierre being excluded due to fuel flow rate, Lando had been promoted to P15. Sure, it would have been better if Lando had the chance to fight for his starting position, but at least that was something. 

You could see he was still not completely confident in how the race would go, but you trusted enough for the both of you. 

Watching the race from the garage was something that always made you incredibly nervous, but especially in this position. But Lando managed to get to P12 by lap 2, and everyone was incredibly excited by his overtakes. 

As the race went on and he felt more confident with the car, he started to climb his way up to the top 10, trusting the team’s decisions with the strategy they were sticking to, and you were so glad everything was falling in place. 

The rest of the race still made you bite your nails at how nervous you were, but the bliss in the entire garage when he overtook someone was indescribable. He was driving the race of his life, and even the radios he exchanged with the team radiated that. As always, the last few laps were nervewracking, but the fact that he made it all the way to P6 and was even helping Oscar with his own race left everyone with a good taste. Not a complete terrible weekend after all. 

During the last lap, however, an unfortunate crash between Carlos and Checo pushed him to P4, meaning he gained 11 positions during the race; not that you ever doubted him, but seeing him end up there with the fastest lap after an absolute mess of the qualifying made you excited to see him. After confiming everyone was okay, you took the liberty to celebrate your boyfriend’s race.

Lando got out of the car and went to greet his team, cheers and smiles all over the place. Everyone was praising him for the incredible work he made, and his smile didn’t go away for a second the entire time. 

You knew you would still have to wait to congratulate him; he still had to do media before coming back to his room, where you were waiting for him, but seeing him so happy in the monitors made you grow impatient. 

It felt like it had been a while since you saw him so happy after a race.

After what felt like forever, you heard him come back to the garage. You stoop up from the small couch and opened the door, where you were greeded by your boyfriend. 

“Hey, you.” You said, closing the door behind him.

“Hi,” he replied, smile so big you could see his dimples.

“That was amazing, Lando. I knew you would do amazing, but I can’t even describe how proud I am.” 

He smiled even more at your words. He closed the distance between you when he took a few steps, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply. You could even feel him smiling then, and that filled your heart.

“Thank you; it was a good day,” he said when he pulled away, looking down at you with loving eyes. “I think everything worked out.” You just nodded as you admired him.

“I missed you,” you whispered as you brushed a few curls that fell on his forehead.

“What do you mean? We’ve been together the last three weeks. You saw me just before the race." To say he was confused was an understatement, and you could see it in his face.

“I mean you, this. I missed seeing you so happy and smiley. Looks good on you.”

Lando was a bit embarrassed by your confession; he thought he did a better job at hiding how much the results affected him, at least to you. It was never his intention to be so down when he was with you, but man, was he endeared by your words. “I needed this,” was all he said, and you know he was right. And it wasn’t only him; you knew the team needed this as well.

“I know, and I know you hate to hear it, but I told you.”

He let out a laugh, not a nervous one this time. “Yes, you did,” he hugged you again, much tighter as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. “Thank you for being here and supporting me, even during my bad times.” He spoke with so much sincerity. 

“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

[requiemforthepoets]

Heyyy, I saw you wrote for Oscar Piastri and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing a Oscar x youngest child reader. Went they go to meet her family and he hasn't heard the best things about them. Like her sister is constantly overlooking every achievement ever and it's like her mother doesn't even care about her unless she wants something and the dad isn't in the picture. And after years she just finally breaks down and Oscar comforts her.

you are the only exception 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: you came to a realization that with your bad relationship with your family, your only strong relationship is with oscar.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello! thank you so much for your request. i hope this one is up to your standards, i had also taken a creative liberty to add some details. the confrontation part (between reader and mother) might be a little bit triggering that i had intended it to be for some, so just read with a little discretion. nonetheless, i hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, youngest daughter syndrome, physical assault (slapping), verbal sparring, dysfunctional family, no father figure, youngest daughter rage, no use of y/n, and cursing.

You and Oscar stood outside the front door of the house you once had called home. It had been a year since you last had last visited, and the thought of just stepping inside made your stomach twist into knots. You glanced at Oscar, his soft smile of encouragement giving you a moment of calm amidst the growing storm inside your mind. He hadn’t pressed you to meet your family, but you knew it had been on his mind ever since your relationship had become serious.

“They’re your family,” he said gently when you brought up the idea weeks ago. “If you want to introduce me, I’ll be there for you.”

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Your family had never felt like a real family at all, not like the warmth and care that Oscar had been surrounded by all his life. You had always felt overlooked, unimportant, invisible—like you were just a ghost in the background of your family’s lives. As you hesitated, Oscar’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, but even Oscar couldn’t hide the flicker of doubt in his eyes. He had heard enough to know this wouldn’t be easy.

You took a deep breath before knocking. The door swung open, revealing your mother, looking at you up and down, her face was a blank canvas of indifference, before her eyes flicked to Oscar. Her expression immediately softened as she extended her arms, ignoring you completely as she greeted him.

“Oscar, darling, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” You felt the sting immediately, but you forced a smile as Oscar shook her hand politely. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs.—”

“Mom,” she corrected, cutting him off and pulling him into a hug. “Just call me mom.” You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to say something, but Oscar gave you a subtle glance that told you he noticed.

You then saw your sisters lounging in the living room, their eyes didn’t light up when they saw you. You just forced a smile and stepped inside, with Oscar following close behind. Introductions were made, your sisters and mother exchanged pleasantries with Oscar, and even though they were polite, it was as if you weren’t even in the room. Your achievements, the life you had built outside of this house, were all glossed over or ignored completely. Every time you tried to share something about what you were proud of, they either changed the subject or dismissed it with a half-hearted compliment.

Oscar’s brow furrowed slightly, his hand never leaving yours as the conversation carried on. You could tell that he was beginning to understand what you had meant all along. When your mother finally acknowledged you, it was only to ask another favor, something she needed, something she always needed but never seemed to return. There was completely no warmth in her words, no care, just expectations. It didn’t help at the fact that your father wasn’t there—he hadn’t been in the picture for a long time. You’d long since accepted that, but it still hurts, the unspoken absence lingering in the air like a heavy cloud.

As the hours dragged on, Oscar noticed everything. The way that your sisters praised each other’s accomplishments while overlooking yours, the way your mother seemed to care more about what you could do for her than who you were. It was suffocating, but you bit your tongue. You were here out of formality, after all. You wanted them to properly meet Oscar because he’s a part of your life now, and as much as you hated to admit it, they were still your family.

During the dinner, while the whole table’s chatter had subsided, Oscar decided to excuse himself to the restroom, and the room seemed to grow colder the moment he left. You just sat there, tension building in your chest, and finally, something inside of you had snapped.

“I’ve had enough,” you said, your voice steady, though your hands trembled. Your sisters glanced at you, clearly taken aback. “Why do you always do that? Why do you always fucking act like nothing I do matters? You act like I don’t exist unless you need something from me. You’ve never cared about what I’ve done or how far I’ve come, like I’m some kind of afterthought to you all. I’m done pretending that it’s okay!”

Your mother’s face hardened. “Watch your tone.”

Your sisters glanced at each other, their expressions indifferent. “Oh, here we go again,” one of them sighed, “you’re always so dramatic, good god!”

“Dramatic?” You repeated, incredulous. “You’ve never acknowledged a single thing I’ve done. Every time I decided to visit, it’s always the same fucking thing, treating me like I’m invisible unless you want something from me!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so sensitive, it wouldn’t bother you,” your mother chimed in, her voice cold. “You have always been the one to leave us. Don’t act like you’re the victim here.”

You stood up, fists clenched at your sides. “I left because this place was and still is fucking suffocating! Because I couldn’t fucking stand the way you all made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough, like I didn’t belong here at all!”

Your sisters rolled their eyes, but your mother stood as well, her face was now twisted in irritation. “You think you’re the only one who’s had it hard? We’re your family, and if you don’t like how things are, maybe you’re the problem!”

“No,” you shot back. “You just can’t handle the fucking truth, can you? You’ve all treated me like a shit for as long as I can remember, and maybe that’s why dad left! Maybe he couldn’t stand being around this shit ass family—or being just around you!” You pointed at your mother angrily.

The words hung in the air like a slap, and it wasn’t long before your mother’s hand followed suit, striking your cheek with a force that left your skin stinging and with a glaring red hand imprint. You didn’t flinch, instead, you stood your ground, the sharp pain doing little to shake your resolve.

“You don’t get to fucking hit me just because you can’t handle what I’m saying,” you said, your voice firm but calm. “You lost any right to call yourself my family a long time ago.”

Before anyone could respond, Oscar re-entered the dining room, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. He saw the tension, the redness in your cheek, and without hesitation, he crossed the room, gently taking your hand.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, his voice steady but filled with concern. You didn’t need to argue, you didn’t want to stay a second longer. With Oscar’s hand in yours, you turned and left, the door closing on a chapter of your life that should have ended long ago.

Stepping outside into the fresh air, the weight that had been suffocating you inside began to dissipate. You felt really good after airing everything out in the open, of course you hadn’t expected your mother’s slap, but you don’t care, it was about fucking time. Oscar didn’t say anything for a while, just held your hand, offering you the comfort you didn’t realize you needed until now. Finally, when you were both at a safe distance from the house, he stopped walking and turned to you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice full of concern. His fingers brushed against your check, where the redness from the slap still lingered.

You nodded, but your eyes were full of unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Osc,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want you to witness all of that. I didn’t even want you to meet them.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Don't apologize,” he murmured against your hair. “You don’t ever have to apologize for them. That wasn’t your fault.”

You stayed in his embrace for what felt like forever, the world around you fading away until it was just the two of you. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.

“They don’t define you,” Oscar whispered. “You’re not them. You’ve built something incredible on your own, and you don’t need their validation for that.”

A few tears slipped down your cheeks, but quickly wiped it off. They weren’t just from sadness, they were also from the overwhelming sense of relief that you didn’t have to face any of this alone anymore. Oscar had seen the worst of your past, and instead of turning away, he was still here, holding you tighter than ever.

“I love you,” he said quietly, his words wrapping around you like a blanket of safety. “And nothing they do will ever change that.”

You looked up at him, his kind eyes filled with nothing but understanding, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged somewhere—right there, in his arms.

The moment you were already back at the hotel room, the weight of the day finally crashed down on your shoulders. You just stood there, motionless, while Oscar set down his things. The silence between the two of you was deafening, it felt like the walls were closing in. The dam you had been holding back for years was breaking, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it was already too late.

You sank into the edge of the bed, face in your hands as everything you had bottled up started to spill out. At first, it was quiet—just a shaky breath, but soon enough, the sobs came in waves, unstoppable, painful, years of frustration and hurt pouring out of you all at once. All the pain of never being enough, of always being overlooked, hits you like a train.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs, not even sure if Oscar could understand you. “I’m so so sorry…I shouldn’t have made you go there. I shouldn’t have let you meet them.”

Oscar was at your side in an instant, pulling you into his arms as if shielding you from the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. He didn’t say anything right away, just held you as you cried into his chest, his hand gently running up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his touch was the only thing keeping you tethered to the present, but the storm inside of you was relentless.

“I thought—” you gasped, the words barely making it out between your sobs. “I thought they might have changed…that maybe they’d see me for who I am now. But they didn’t. They never will. I don’t know why I thought it would be any different.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with concern and understanding. “Hey. Hey, stop,” he said gently, brushing a tear from your cheek. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. You don’t have to apologize for them, not to me.”

You shook your head, guilt pressing down on you. “But how they treated you, it wasn’t right. They didn’t even care that you were there. They didn’t care about anything except what they wanted from me, and I made you go through all of that…I’m sorry,”

Oscar’s grip on you tightened, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to apologize for them,” he repeated, his tone more serious now. “They’re the ones who should be sorry, not you. You’ve done nothing wrong. I went because I wanted to be there for you, no matter how it all turned out.”

You sniffed, wiping at your tear-streaked face, though it did a little to stop the flood. “But it’s so embarrassing,” you mumbled. “Your family’s so good, supportive, and mine…mine’s a total mess. Dysfunctional, even. I didn’t want you to see that, I didn’t want you to see where I came from.”

Oscar cupped your face gently, forcing you to look at him. “It doesn’t matter where you came from, I couldn’t care less,” he said quietly, his eyes searching for yours. “What matters is who you are, and you are nothing like them. You’ve built your own life, your own path, and that’s what I love about you. I don’t care about your family’s mistakes. I care about you.”

Your chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t from the pain of your family’s rejection. It was from the overwhelming feeling of being seen, truly seen, by someone who didn’t judge you for the past you couldn’t control. Oscar’s words wrapped around you like a protective shield, and you leaned into him, your tears slowing but your emotions still raw.

“I just wanted them to care,” you whispered, the last of your defenses breaking. “I wanted them to be proud of me, I don’t ask that much from them. I just…I just wanted to feel like I mattered to them.”

Oscar’s arms tightened around you again, pulling you close until your forehead rested against his. “You matter,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. “You matter to me. More than you’ll ever know.”

You took a shaky breath, your hands clutching onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. “Thank you,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

He kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “You never have to thank me for caring about you. I love you, and I’m here, no matter what.”

The sincerity in his voice broke through the last of the walls you had built around yourself. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you could finally breathe. You nodded, the tension in your chest finally easing as you rested your head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you.

You weren’t sure of what the future held, or if your family would ever change, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered at all. You had Oscar, and that was enough.

[gods-perfect-idiots]

Okay bear with me folks, I have some ~thoughts~ about the Vanessa/Wade relationship (or frankly lack thereof) in Deadpool & Wolverine. I should start by saying that I am analyzing this with the (likely erroneous) assumption that everything on screen is 100% intentional and mindfully written to deepen the characters and inform their arcs. For the record, I don't necessarily believe that's true - there is certainly room for mistakes, lazy writing, confusing plot elements, or in this case, sidelining a potentially strong and important character for nebulous reasons (I'm guessing scheduling conflicts + run time concerns + actor's strike complications but idk for sure). (Also thanks to @gossippool and @kendyroy for encouraging me to post my thoughts instead of just rambling in the tags in the first place, y'all are the realest)

Long rambly post below the cut fyi

Now, granted, it has been a while since I watched the original Deadpool so I am not as well-versed in their early relationship as I am in the handful of scenes Morena Baccarin has in dp3, but I do think it is pretty canon that Wade generally struggles to express his deeper worries and feelings (without filtering it heavily through crude humor, sex, and pop culture references of course), especially after the events of dp1 and the physical and mental damage he sustains, and Vanessa is frankly no exception despite how much he cares for her. The entire first movie hinges on the fact that he doesn't really believe she could love him in his post-Francis mangled state, which is pretty contrived imo given that the film has established already how bonded they are, and she doesn't strike me as being written to be so shallow as to reject him based on a physical deformity. I mean iirc she wanted to stick around through chemo despite him being literally riddled with inoperable cancer, so she clearly is in it for the long haul (at least in dp1), messiness and all.

Now, in dp2, obviously she is shot and killed early in the film, and Wade spends much of the rest of the film wallowing in his very profound grief, trauma, and guilt over losing her due directly to his violent lifestyle. He goes to prison, he basically gives up on life and seems very resigned to dying once he has the power suppressant collar on, even excited to do so so he can be reunited with her. She is mostly sidelined as a Fuzzy Dead Wife trope basically, but the important thing here is that he spends weeks if not months in the throes of despair over losing the love of his life just as they were trying to start a family, and trying to reach across the boundaries of death to be with her.

Now, my first couple times watching dp3 I was frustrated by the trite narrative presented in the interview scene towards the beginning - specifically Wade's whole "my girl is getting tired of my shtick and I need to show her I matter". It felt contrived and disingenuous, and I just brushed it off as iffy writing, a means to an end, but the more I reflect upon it the more I think it is based in an emotional reality that is just handled with a very light touch by the film in favor of fanservice and Poolverine content (NOT that I'm complaining in the slightest - I think this movie is a masterpiece in many ways, albeit a flawed one but that's beside the point here), which for the record I am not against because I think it lends it an air of realism. This is Wade's story after all, Vanessa is a part of it but it is ultimately about him and his journey.

Basically, I think the combination of what happened to him in dp1 (the brain damage, the trauma, the awareness of the fourth wall, etc) followed by the events of dp2 (Vanessa's death, his grief and the associated guilt and trauma of being the direct cause of her death) led to an unbridgeable emotional gap between the two of them that ultimately leads to their breakup.

It's important to note that I don't think Vanessa has any recollection of her own death, given that Wade goes back and saves her before she can take the bullet, and so of course she can never fully fathom what Wade went through grieving her and their life together and their potential family, for however long he spent between her death and bringing her back with Cable's device. She can try (and she clearly does in the one scene I'll talk about next) but I fear she accepts, maybe even in that scene, that she can never succeed. He is beyond her reach by this point, and vice versa, his experiences having fundamentally changed him.

The one scene we really see from their relationship between dp2 and dp3 is the one where Cassandra mind-gropes Wade in the Void and we see Vanessa struggling to reach Wade across this aforementioned gap - she wants him to open up, she wants him to share what he's going through, she wants him to be the person she initially fell in love with (not even selfishly - to her nothing has changed really, because to her no time has passed). But not only does he not understand what she's really asking for but he responds in such a way that makes me think he has unprocessed issues that are only tangentially related to what she's saying - ie the stuff about mattering, about asking her if she even wants to be with him, etc. And he's not the Wade Wilson she met back in dp1 anymore. He watched her die and grieved her and brought her back, believing it would make everything go back to normal and they could resume their life together as if nothing had changed, but he has been fundamentally changed in a way that she can't grasp, even if he WAS good at externally processing his trauma openly without the artifice of wry jokes. She didn't "come back wrong" - instead, she came back exactly the same as before, but HE'S different now. Not wrong, per se. But changed.

It's an interesting scene because it's obviously a memory, and a crucial one at that, but you can see how Wade is misunderstanding what she's saying, viewing it through the prism of his own lack of self-worth and his own hopelessness - he takes away that she thinks he doesn't matter (even though like he says she didn't actually say that, but I don't think Cassandra invented that wholecloth - I think she pulled it out of his psyche because that's what he believes deep down, hence why his fixation on mattering even though she never said those words exactly), he takes away that she doesn't want to be with him, that she thinks he's nothing. Which would be frustrating as an audience member to witness as a pretty simple misunderstanding which could potentially be solved with one conversation, but it feels believable to me that these two people who have shared a great love would be fundamentally separated by unimaginable, cosmic trauma, and the on conversation they would need to have to rectify the misunderstanding is one that is impossible for Wade to verbalize and equally impossible for Vanessa to conceive of. It was one thing when they had shared trauma like violence and SA in dp1, but what Wade has gone through in dp1 and dp2, humor aside, is unfathomably traumatic, brain-breakingly so even, and that's not even factoring in the possible mental illnesses he now struggles with (I've seen folks suggest schizophrenia, DID, depression, etc. but I won't get into armchair diagnosing a fictional character here - suffice it to say he is canonically unwell as a result of what has happened to him, and yes it manifests as quirky fourth wall breaks and cheeky one-liners, but within the universe of the movies he is undeniably profoundly mentally ill, and that includes this humorous alter ego he created to cope with his trauma).

I think off-screen Vanessa probably really tried to reach him, maybe for years (the six year gap implies to me that they didn't break up immediately, that they tried for a while to stay together), trying to get her Wade back, but that Wade is gone. He struggled to express that to her until eventually he started to feel rejected because he couldn't express his trauma or how much he has changed, because even he can't fully conceive of the gulf that has formed between them. The truth is, he WANTS to be that Wade again, for her and for himself, but that Wade died when she died. Or maybe he had already started dying when Francis got a hold of him in dp1.

Anyway, all this is to say, I think Morena Baccarin WAS criminally underutilized in dp2 and dp3, but I think there is a strong argument to be made for the believability of their breakup regardless. I think even relationships built on enormous love can crumble due to trauma, and what Wade suffers over these movies is mind-bogglingly enormous trauma. It's especially heartbreaking that he blames himself for their relationship ending, talks like she just got tired of him, thought he didn't matter, whatever. But it is a credit to him that he never seems to feel anger towards her about it. He doesn't seem to feel entitled to her, though he longs for her and what they had and what she represented (hope, love, a future, a family), but ultimately she becomes more of a symbol of what he lost when he gained his powers, because let's be super fr right now - even if they had succeeded in having a baby, not only would they have lived in fear of her or the kid getting killed, but ultimately Wade would likely outlive both of them even if they managed to die natural deaths. The moment he gained his powers he was already destined to lose her, which is heartbreaking because she was the only reason he opted for the treatment in the first place - so he could stay with her.

I think a big part of Deadpool & Wolverine is watching Wade continue to process his own motivations (vis-a-vis Vanessa but also his other friends) and how he does eventually let go of the idea of "mattering" in favor of just saving the people he cares about (*cough* and being saved right back *cough* by Wolvie, as the final line and shot implies). And in the process he finds someone new who cares about him, who thinks he matters, who tries to sacrifice himself for him and his friends after mere days of knowing him, who comes home with him at the end of the story, who breaks his own centuries-old patterns, who has also experienced unimaginable grief and trauma, who has struggled with wanting to die and being unable to, who not only matches his crazy but matches his FREAK and also not only won't die on him but CAN'T die on him - and more importantly cannot be randomly killed by a stray bullet.

Idk if any of this makes much sense but I do think if you read between the lines and consider the potency of trauma and grief, guilt and emotional damage at play here, Vanessa and Wade's off-screen breakup is actually pretty realistic, and really heart-breaking to boot.

You can tell she still cares about him in so many ways - she shows up for his birthday party, she shows up to his welcome home party at the end, she finds excuses for physical contact multiple times, her eyes get soft when she looks at him, but there is a distance there that Morena Baccarin does an incredible job of portraying. She cares about him deeply, she has mourned the loss of their potential life together, she has let him go and accepted that the Wade she fell in love with is gone, but she wants him in her life even though she's moving on because she realizes he's gone somewhere she can't follow (literally and figuratively). And she wants him to be happy which is why I fully believe she would immediately clock the Poolverine of it all and not-so-subtly encourage them to make it official.

Anyway. Poolverine forever. Nothing against Vanessa at all - I think she delivers a nuanced and beautiful performance, I think their relationship is sweet and heart-wrenching in large part due to her acting chops, especially given how little she is given to work with - but I think their relationship was sadly doomed from almost the very start, because Wade becomes this traumatized superhuman and Vanessa would always be at risk in his orbit, but also would always on the outside of his multiverse superhero experiences. I think it's weirdly beautiful, even if I am filling in a lot of gaps and giving the writers maybe undue credit.

Anyway... thoughts? Please DM me or write in the tags, I am feral about this movie and just want to talk about it with anyone haha. If you have further insight into these characters too I'd love to hear it - I am by no means an expert in these movies or characters!

[cool-island-songs]

Analysis of ALNST Character Relationship Metrics

My art book won't be here for a minute, but I ran some screenshots I saw on twt through an image translator and have a lot of thoughts:

TILL: Despite claiming to hate everyone in the world, Till ranks Ivan at 70% intimacy even as he identifies perturbing behaviors of Ivan's going back years and refers to him as "a bother". He also ranks Sua at 10% in spite of having little to say about her and finding it uncomfortable to be around her.

Though he postures at being misanthropic and has all the manners you'd expect of a boy who was half off at the human child pound, he's actually quite gentle and sensitive. This is reflected in one of the graduation messages he's left by a classmate as well:

The person he feels closest to is an unattainable crush, and someone who doesn't feel that close with him in return, likely because he's too shy to really approach her or carry on a conversation.

MIZI: That's Mizi, of course, who's rather childlike and naive initially. She likes everyone, but since Till chokes when he tries to speak to her and often keeps his distance, she wonders if he's avoiding her because he dislikes her.

Mizi gravitates towards people who she sees as "perfect", which is how she describes Ivan and Sua in her graduation message to Ivan:

She doesn't see the darker side of Ivan's personality (which has been described on several occasions, even by himself, as "twisted") because he's attractive, successful, and helpful to her.

Though she likes everyone, Sua is her "God", and the only thing that can keep them apart is the tragedy of their situation, which forces Mizi to grow up in a brutally painful way.

SUA: Sua is far less idealistic and naive than Mizi, and has clearly thought about sacrificing herself to save Mizi, since Ivan picks on her for thinking of doing so in an official comic. Accordingly, her feelings about Mizi are far more tinged by the knowledge that they will one day be torn apart by external circumstances. She laments that reciprocating her feelings will one day cause Mizi great pain.

She's always been more somber, and despite her surface similarities to Ivan (which he notes in a follow-up comic wherein he realizes he was wrong about Sua's feelings for Mizi being unrequited), she's quite different on the inside. Sua's more sensitive and thus her colder exterior serves to protect her, whereas Ivan's outward persona creates an illusion of normalcy that doesn't reflect his reality.

Sua views Ivan and Till as a threat and a nuisance, respectively. Like Till, she senses something strange about Ivan, and when it comes to Till, it's just one person too many around for her. This is fascinating to me, because I thought she might pity Till! Her feelings about Ivan were already pretty clear from this panel of the 'piggyback' comic, and she seems deeply hurt in the first comic linked by his prodding.

IVAN: For his part, Ivan is fascinated by Till even though he's content to sit back and observe, pestering him to get a reaction or his attention for a brief time. He doesn't expect anything in return but wants more than anything to be on Till's mind (hence behaviors like stealing Till's belongings and returning them to him, pretending he had found them).

He prefers Sua to Mizi despite his awareness that Sua doesn't particularly like him, seeing her as a sister and even telling her she's "twisted" like he is. He likes Mizi well enough, especially her sincerity, but seems to find her optimism a bit much at times.

The fact that Mizi and the others would likely consider Ivan and Mizi quite close while Ivan does not reflects how much he postures even in his closest relationships. He struggles to connect with those he's most compelled by and it's not clear if he really wants to.

Some Ivantill thoughts before I go:

There seems to be a common sentiment that it's tragic Till was unable to see how much Ivan loved him, and I think we'll likely get more of Till's perspective on Ivan and their relationship in round 7. But it may not be the case that Ivan even wanted his true feelings to be seen, or would have known what to do if Till had reciprocated them.

There's something almost voyeuristic and self-negating in his feelings for Till (see: "I can’t reach you, so I imagine alone/You who shines, I stand next to you" from 'Black Sorrow'). He has far more self-awareness and willingness to accept things as they are than Till, who doesn't see that Mizi only has eyes for Sua and who would likely struggle to accept that reality.

Ivan, on the other hand, is well aware that his feelings for Till are "shallow", a bright fantasy to get him through his dark reality, and he seems to sincerely believe that his death won't scar Till because he's never really broken through to him. He's a schemer, and comments he makes in his graduation message to Till and the interview he gives in advance of round 6 suggest that he may have been planning to sacrifice himself for some time.

Part of me wonders if he hoped it would leave a mark on Till. Choking, kissing, and violently sacrificing oneself are all aggressive, forward acts, especially from someone who used to toy with people to get his kicks but was otherwise quite passive and unfeeling.

There are a lot of parallels in the one-sided loves, like Till acting out of his usual character for Mizi, and Ivan doing the same because of Till, putting all hopes of being saved in something just out of reach, staying in chains for that one special person. But Ivan's psychology is quite different from Till's, and in fact closest to Luka's re: low or no empathy. Both Ivan and Till are significantly traumatized by their upbringings but Ivan's difficult early life in the slums and his experience being dangled off that rooftop seem to have damaged his ability to connect to others or feel much of anything.

Till is the first person for whom he feels anything while for Till, Mizi is an early crush he puts on a pedestal in a much more commonplace way. I think the shared trauma of competing on that stage makes it much more difficult for either of them to imagine moving on, but Ivan is not wrong in identifying that he won't find that feeling again.

The thing that intrigues me most about this series is the way the contestants' differences play out, particularly with regard to how they view love and how they respond to their individual and shared challenges. I'd love to get into it further another time but this is quite long already so thanks for sticking with it if any have (haha)

[bahislionaaagiris]

How to Achieve Endless Happiness

The pursuit of endless happiness is something many people strive for, but true, lasting happiness doesn’t come from material possessions or external achievements. Instead, it’s a state of mind that can be cultivated through inner peace and mindful living. Here are some key principles for achieving endless happiness:

Practice Gratitude Gratitude shifts your focus from what you lack to what you have. By appreciating the little things in life, you train your mind to focus on positivity. Each day, take time to reflect on what you are grateful for—this simple practice can have a profound impact on your overall happiness.

Live in the Present One of the main reasons people feel unhappy is that they dwell on the past or worry about the future. Endless happiness can only be found in the present moment. Mindfulness practices like meditation and deep breathing help bring your attention to the now, allowing you to fully experience life as it happens.

Cultivate Positive Relationships Strong, meaningful connections with others are a key factor in long-term happiness. Surround yourself with supportive, positive people who encourage and inspire you. Building deep bonds and fostering empathy not only creates happiness for yourself but also for those around you.

Give Without Expecting Acts of kindness and generosity lead to a deep sense of fulfillment. When you help others without expecting anything in return, you tap into a natural source of joy. Giving can take many forms—whether it’s your time, energy, or resources—and it helps to create a sense of purpose and connection.

Embrace Imperfection True happiness doesn’t come from perfection but from accepting life as it is. Challenges, mistakes, and setbacks are inevitable, but how you respond to them determines your happiness. By embracing imperfection, you reduce unnecessary stress and open yourself to growth and learning.

Align Your Life with Your Values Happiness grows when your actions align with your deepest values and beliefs. Pursue what truly matters to you—whether that’s creativity, family, helping others, or personal growth. Living authentically and with purpose leads to a deeper sense of fulfillment and lasting joy.

Endless happiness isn’t about constantly feeling pleasure or avoiding pain. It’s about creating a mindset that allows you to find peace, meaning, and joy regardless of external circumstances. By cultivating these habits and attitudes, you can nurture a deep, enduring happiness in your life. Like Bahislion

[thepersonperson]

Gege is doing to his characters what they did to jfk there's so much character assassination happening djsjdsnsdjn

This ask was sent to me shortly after I complained about JJK 269 leaks. (Aka before JJK 270's release so be nice to them.) And while I still agree that chapter contained character assassinations, JJK 270 has given me a good reason for them. 

Since my other post related to this topic was trimmed down by Tumblr’s 30 image limit, I’m going to use this ask as an excuse to this burning question...

Why does everyone feel so out of character in JJK 268–270?

Notes before we start.

1) Read the light novels. They are the equivalent of Bleach's CFYOW for JJK. There is a fan translation (Book 1 & Book 2), but I will be citing the official translation from my own copies.

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans for the manga because of their accessibility. 

4) Written as of JJK 270.

5) Read the light novels.

(Another extremely 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Click pictures for captions/citations.)

Preface

This post is banking on the framework I set up in the previous related post so please read/skim over it. (If you don't? Just hear me out!)

Short Summary of the Previous Related Post:

Yuji is projecting a massive delusion onto Megumi that gives him a happy ending. JJK 268–270 is a mesh of Yuji and Megumi’s memories and dreams that serve to rationalize all that’s happened to them in a way that allows them to forgive themselves. Sukuna’s vessel memories are probably mixed in too.

Because of this I’m assuming the following:

>The battle recollection in JJK 269 is Yuji constructing explanations from his, Megumi, and Sukuna’s memories during their battle. Neither of these 3 ever knew the plan in full. This can explain why so much of the battle recollection is wrong.

>The characters we see outside of Yuji and Megumi are constructs based on their memories of these people. They’re more like representations than the actual characters.

I don’t know if it means they’re dead or not, but that doesn’t matter. I want to explore the way the characters feel off can be explained by them being memory constructs.

In the previous post, I used "Without love it cannot be seen." from Umineko to give my best faith reading of these past 3 chapters I've hated so much. This time the tool I'll be using is:

"Flipping over the chessboard."

This refers to how one should try to see things from a different perspective.

Memory in JJK

A neat touch that has always been around in JJK is characters remembering others as they last saw them. When Gojo recalls his best students, Hakari has a very different hair style from when we meet him. His recollection of Yuta's is accurate though. When Panda recalls Yuta, the hairstyle differs from what Gojo recalls. And when he recalls Kiara, he mistakenly refers to her as a guy.

This all can be explained by considering when Gojo and Panda last saw these characters. Gojo last saw Yuta in Kenya with Miguel where he changed his hairstyle. Panda hasn't seen Yuta since he's left the country. Neither Gojo or Panda have seen Hakari and Kiara for a very long time.

Their memories reflect how they last knew them. Kiara is a whole girl now and Hakari is blond. But if Panda and Gojo never saw them again? Those memories would be true to them, even if it’s no longer accurate.

And sometimes the memories aren’t accurate. See this side by side recollection of Gojo meeting Megumi from both of their perspectives.

I believe Gojo’s memory of this event is the accurate one because he’s 19 when it happens, not under distress when he recalls it, and has the Six Eyes which act like a supercomputer. Megumi’s memory is iffy because he’s 6 when it happens, has a head injury that knocks him out when he recalls this, and doesn’t have perception enhancing abilities. And though Megumi can’t recall the memory in its truest form, what he does remember still tells us a lot about his feelings towards the event and his relationship with Gojo.

The emotions child Megumi felt at the time distort what Gojo was actually like back then. Instead of a benefactor, he’s a suspicious weirdo with a funny face. The heart behind Gojo crouching down to his level, being way too honest with him, trying to give him options, patting him on the head—it’s all missing.

With all this in mind, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume Megumi and Yuji’s impressions of other characters via memory would influence how they appear in these delusions too. Yuji’s impressions probably take the most precedence since I think his will is shaping the delusions the most.

Recalling Incomplete Information 

Yuji is very good at understanding people. He can intuit their feelings and sync up with them easily. (I go over this in greater detail in this post.) But that doesn’t mean he fully understands their hearts. He gets close enough to their core to bond with them, but the little details aren’t quite right. 

If all the characters (save Megumi) we’ve been seeing in JJK 268–270 are constructs based on Yuji’s perception of them, I think this can explain everything off about them.

What made me consider this possibility was JJK 270. There’s this pattern I keep seeing... Characters’ motivations being misunderstood and being resolved by scenarios that aren’t quite right. Every time I try to explain what exactly is wrong with them, assuming their inconsistencies align with Yuji’s perception of them solves the problem.

Amai Rin

Rin is introduced as a coward. He’s unable to fight and goes along with the whims of those stronger than him to avoid getting hurt. This is why he keeps his head low as his friend is being harassed by bullies during his Jr. High days. Still, he tries to help. Just not at a risk to himself.

When Yuji saves his friend and beats all the bullies up, he turns to Rin and assumes he was part of the bully group. This simply isn’t true. He was a bystander. That’s why it’s weird for him to apologize like he was the one who beat the guy up.

Yuji’s false impression of Rin, one where he’s a bully that feels guilt over his actions, explains this. Rin’s actual guilt comes from him being a bystander—someone who doesn’t take action for others when something is wrong. He dealt with that in the Culling Games by helping Yuji and risking his life to save Angel. And he really stepped out of his comfort zone to join the medical team for the Sukuna battle. He might be the reason Yuta survived. (Yuji doesn’t know about that though.)

And what’s this? Here Yuji outright admits he doesn’t fully understand what kind of person Rin is. All he knows is that he did some good things and is trying to become a better person. So now we’ve got this other Rin that’s apologizing for something he didn’t do for the redemption he’s already earned.

(And that’s the pattern! Rin’s motivation is misunderstood by Yuji so he’s doing something that seems out of character to us readers, but is perfectly in character for Yuji’s perception of him. When I apply it to everyone else. Everything makes sense.)

Takaba Fumihiko

What Yuji knows about Takaba is pre-Kenjaku development. Yuji knows the Takaba that speaks over others, rejects their criticisms, and insists he’s funny. That’s kind of what he’s doing to Totally Not Kenjaku. In reality, Kenjaku caused Takaba to reflect on his approach to comedy and they are nearly in perfect sync by the end of it. Kenjaku satisfied Takaba.

Yuji didn’t see that battle and he hasn’t spoken to Takaba since. So he’s constructed a happy ending where Takaba has found his partner and is working towards the show of his dreams that already happened.

I also want to note that Takaba is 100% ok with sex jokes. Kenjaku makes one and he doesn’t object to it. This is just another little detail that makes everything so slightly off.

Higuruma Hiromi

Yuji knows that Higurama wants to go back to his roots. He knows that he feels guilt over killing people.

What he doesn’t know is that Higurama’s roots are him being a defense lawyer that cherishes the flaws of humanity. He doesn't want to ever look away from the impurities that even Yuji has. That’s why I think Yuji resolves his problems with him becoming a sorcerer who saves lives.

Yuji seems to think that Higuruma is like him. He’ll make up for the lives he’s taken via sorcery by saving more. That’s something he could assume from their convo, but that’s not actually what Higuruma wants. He wants to fundamentally change Japan’s legal system for the better in his own way.

Kurusu Hana

She’s the most in character of the bunch. In fact, there’s nothing out of character about her interaction with Megumi. What she represents is Yuji misunderstanding Megumi’s desires.

Yuji understands that Megumi’s type is someone with an unwavering humanity (literally the definition of Yuji’s name) via access to his memories. But for some reason (he’s kind of dumb academically), he thinks this means Hana is perfect for him. 

I think this is because Hana meets Yuji’s definition of a good person. She’s just like Megumi. She saves others for a selfish purpose. And that means…Hana does not meet Megumi’s definition of a good person. Not once has he considered her saving others as selfless. (...But Yuji has.)

And that’s just facts. Hana is kind of unhinged. She’s extremely possessive of Megumi and saves others solely to win him over. Yuji saves others because it’s the right thing to do.

Megumi’s preferences are Yuji, not Hana. Which has led to the most awkward confession and rejection scene. That might have clued Yuji in to construct an alternative. In the memory Yuji is probably recalling, Todo does clock Megumi as someone into dudes.  …The very next scene is Yuji hitting on a dude in front of his gf in a way that causes him to blush. (Yuji has not once complimented someone’s body up to this point if I recall correctly. And he’s been around some beefy dudes.)

(Yeah Nobara me too. Second most leftfield possible bisexual confirmation I’ve read in a manga. The first will always be from Baki the Grappler.)

Is this Yuji letting Megumi know it’s ok to come onto him? Is he not initiating because Hana’s forwardness freaked Megumi out? It’s possible. 

What this suggests is that Yuji is kind of fine tuning this whole delusion to make Megumi as content as possible. It’s telling that the moment Megumi starts getting super uncomfortable the scene jumps to something else.

It happens at the beginning of the chapter too. Gojo is mentioned by Shoko in a way that causes Megumi to pause. And Bam! Change scene.

Anyways, I hope this demonstrates that Yuji working with the limited information from memories is most likely the reason for everything being so funky. It’s character assassination by accident.

Why make these happy endings when this is all for Megumi?

Two reasons as to why I think Yuji is trying to give everyone a plausible happy ending.

1) He genuinely wants them to live good lives.

2) It has to be believable for Megumi to accept them as real and forgive himself.

This line may have been about Yuji, but Megumi’s not any different. He blames himself in the exact same way Yuji blames himself.

I also think there's something to be said about Yuji crafting a dream that resembles the perfect cookie cutter Shonen ending. The guy gets with girl he has no chemistry with. All these complicated plot lines are wrapped up with a neat little bow. Everyone lives and goes on like nothing traumatic happened.

Yuji is a big fan of Shonen. Straight up his final move against Sukuna is a Hunter X Hunter reference. That's not just Gege doing a reference as a fan, Yuji himself is a fan of that manga.

I think Yuji is trying to make this fiction a reality because it's the only way he knows how to cope with his trauma.

JJK 269’s Character “Assassinations”

I promise I still hate this chapter. But I won’t deny how fun it is to pretend these are all delusions Yuji created for Megumi’s sake. I went over Kusakabe to cut him some slack in the previous post, so let’s do everyone else.

(The chapter’s formatting as one long unending nightmare makes it hard to separate this stuff out by the character. I’m just going to do groups this time.)

The 2nd Years

The most common complaint from readers outside of Kusakabe telling Yuji he should’ve died is Maki being really fudging mean to Yuta. Maki is mean, but she’s not that mean. You could assume this is her showing Yuta she cares and that her anger scales with worry but… Here’s a side by side comparison of her getting angry over Yuta risking his life in Vol 0 vs JJK 269.

Pretty big difference I think. Here is a Maki with a Yuta she thinks is about to die vs a Maki with a Yuta who is 100% ok. And the only reason she even gets mad in Vol 0 is because she had no idea Yuta did something that risky. Maki already knew Yuta was going to body hop if all else failed, so her reaction here is disproportionate, especially since he survived.

Speaking of survival, the first thing Maki, Panda, and Inumaki do when Yuta survives in Vol 0 is ask if he’s ok and thank him for saving them. This doesn’t happen in JJK 269. They're all very protective of Yuta after the events of Vol 0. We see them defend him from Gojo for being a little mean about his training. They’re all against the plan because of how much they value him. The 3 of them not checking in on Yuta immediately after the fact is wildly OOC.

The explanation I have? This version of Maki is based on Yuji and Megumi’s memories of her. (And let’s remember that Megumi claims he can’t openly respect her and the other 2nd years outside of Yuta.) When Megumi and Nobara mourn Yuji’s “death”, Maki does this to them.

Maki also intimidated Yuji pretty bad when they first met. Her, Panda, and Inumaki went along with bullying Yuji after he came back to life. It makes sense that Yuji would up Maki’s meanness. He’s not been around her long enough to know she’s not like this when it comes to people she cares about. 

I do think it is weird Maki is pre-awakening levels of mean. This could also be Yuji trying to return to the time before everything went to absolute hell. Or...because she’s Yuji’s construct, this could be him expressing his anger at Yuta for defiling Gojo’s body in a very roundabout way. From both Yuji and Megumi’s perspective, Yuta didn’t discuss this beforehand and used it as a last second plan. And that’s kind of how the conversation goes. Everyone talks about Yuta’s Yujo plan like he didn’t clear it with them first.

It’s also telling that they harp on Yuta over Miguel and Larue. Miguel said no help unless Sukuna’s domain was down. Everyone except Yuji knew that. There was never a scenario where they’d help from the start. But to Yuji who only heard they might show up? It’s a missed opportunity.

Say if you were, trying to find a reason for such a horrific defiling of a loved one’s body. Wouldn’t you try to reconstruct the crime by considering the motives and methods? That would help give you some closure, right?

I think that’s what Yuji is doing for himself and Megumi. Yuji is trying to figure out why things went the way they did through a blend of what Sukuna intuited and what makes the most sense to someone who never had full knowledge of the plan. 

And if you think about it, this is still a happy ending for them. They’re all absolved of their guilt surrounding the outcome of the battle. Even if they screwed up, they’re all still alive and able to move forward in a better world. They did the best they could, so it’s time to move on from what happened to Gojo. Thinking about that too much would break someone.

Mei Mei and Ui Ui

Mei Mei is out of character in a way that’s unique compared to everyone else. She’s still herself, but with less…yikes. It’s odd since Yuji has seen how awful Mei Mei can be and is deeply uncomfortable with how she treats Ui Ui. He’s not missing information about her motives so why have we gone from this to this?

I propose this is an extension of Yuji’s denialism. (We’ve seen how avoidant he is with Gojo’s death.) Mei Mei is grooming Ui Ui and has made it clear this is all for money. Ui Ui is being abused, but he’s so attached to his abuser that separation would break him. How do you make a happy ending out of that?

Well, you can soften those edges. Spin a tale where Mei Mei is an over-doting sister who would kill for her cute little brother. She doesn’t touch him inappropriately, she just plays with him. She loves money as much as him! No abuse here! She’s not someone who would kill a child for cash.

And in a weird way this whole Simple Domain debacle mirrors Gojo killing the higher ups. If Maki is Yuji's rage towards the Yujo plan, then this could be him trying to process his mentor slaughtering a bunch of old people in mass for his sake.

It probably helps that Yuji wasn’t there to see Mei Mei tell Ui Ui to die for her. There’s no way he knows she was paid to help kill him either.

Mei Mei doesn’t care about the well-being of other people. She’s just a hardcore capitalist who loves money and will do anything for it. But this version of her can be less terrible to Ui Ui while still getting her cash and that’s sort of ok I guess? Yuji has moved on from this and so will I.

The Megumi & Nobara Problem

The 1st years going on like nothing happened after Sukuna has made readers feel betrayed. It flies in the face of everything that’s been established for them when it comes to mourning.

As stated in CFYOW, JJK Thorny Road at Dawn, Chapter 5: At the End of a Sidewalk, this is how the trio deals with grief.

Despite knowing Yuji for only 2 weeks his death screws with Megumi and Nobara pretty badly. In the manga, it looks like Nobara is more upset because she’s visibly in pain, but I think the light novels show they’re equally shaken. 

This is why the non-reaction to Gojo’s death makes no sense. Megumi has known Gojo for a decade. He’s 6 when he first meets him and 16 when he dies because Sukuna used his Cursed Technique (CT). Nobara knew Yuji for 2 weeks, and didn’t see him for another 3 months. In all that time, Gojo was her teacher. She knew him longer than Yuji. When she “dies” Gojo is on the same tier as Yuji and Megumi to her.

So why is it that in JJK 268, Nobara thinks of Gojo as a creep? Why did she toss his letter despite him being one of the people she thought of in death? 

Well… When Yuji came back from the dead via Gojo’s prank he heard Nobara say this.

Nobara is prone to saying out of pocket nonsense to people. If she thinks it, she says it. Yuji also doesn’t understand Nobara’s thought processes (Just like Amai Rin he admits it too!). Nobara tries to hide her feelings to appear tougher than she is sometimes. So I think Yuji has done to Nobara what he has done to Maki—upped the meanness and neglected the heart.

And though Nobara being a construct can explain her behavior, this still leaves us with Megumi who is definitely not one. Why is he acting like Gojo meant nothing to him?

Megumi in particular is super fragile when it comes to his feelings. This is how stressed he gets when he learns exactly why Tsumiki is in a coma.

She’s not even dead and he’s halfway to a mental breakdown. The idea that he can just look at her grave once after having a hand in her murder and move on this quickly makes no sense. Inadvertently killing his defacto guardian he’s been raised by for 10 years should be upsetting him to a similar degree. (Maki said Gojo treated him like a precious treasure!)

When Megumi is on the verge of death he thinks of Tsumiki, Yuji, and or Gojo. It’s always at least 1 of those 3. There’s no way Gojo dying and having his corpse reanimated for reasons Megumi might feel responsible for isn’t screwing him up.

Unless…Yuji is suppressing his memory on purpose. He can’t even cope with what happened to Gojo, how is Megumi supposed to? How can either of them forgive themselves for that if they acknowledge it in full?

When Sukuna tries to tell Megumi to give up, he looks miserable. Every time Sukuna has verbally kicked Yuji while he’s down, he’s done it with a big old smile and laugh. He doesn’t hold back and goes for the throat.

Sukuna is being very nice to Megumi here when he doesn’t mention Gojo at all. The only death he blames on Megumi is Tsumiki. Everyone else? Nothing. That’s weird given that Sukuna will pass the blame of his kills onto Yuji to torment him.

Is this Sukuna a construct or is he playing nice because he respects Megumi? Who knows. Whatever happened here seems to point to Gojo’s memory being suppressed for Megumi’s sake. 

And why might Megumi accept this suppression? Why does he seem to be going along with Yuji’s delusions? The Unlimited Void brain fog. Megumi brings attention to it after he wakes up. 

If Sukuna can’t think straight after Gojo brain damage, neither is Megumi. Still Yuji has to be careful. If Megumi thinks too much, the illusion will be broken. 

What does this mean for them?

Well, the character assassination isn’t real (probably) which is a good thing! Other than that? Not a clue. We’ve got a real catbox situation here. I can’t tell who is dead anymore.

Sukuna projects delusions when someone he’s connected with is dying. Yuji projects delusions when he’s dying. Both of them are kind towards the people they’re interacting with in this space between dreams and reality. They try to give people endings that leave them satisfied.

JJK 270 ends with the hunt for a curse user who can distort perceptions of reality. This curse user is initially mistaken as a cursed spirit. That sounds like Sukuna I think.

I’m pretty confident this happy ending illusion will be shattered, that's for sure.

My Final Answer

I'm betting it all on this being a delusion. This is a kind of prediction that will either age well, very badly, or interestingly. I don't know what's in store for the final chapter...but I do have some ideas I'd like to speculate with.

"Without love it cannot be seen."

This time I'm going to use this phrase very literally. I'm going to make one final gamble on the assumption that love is the answer. So let's go back to Love itself—one of those reoccurring themes in JJK.

Love is a curse in JJK. It has the power to distort reality and transform loved ones horribly. Desperation to save a loved one from death over and over has resulted in extremely traumatic things. Yuta turned his childhood crush into monster that caused havoc for years. You can pin blame everything that has happened in JJK on Gojo being unable to get over the loss of his loved one, Geto.

Hana could've vanquished Sukuna on the spot, but she didn't because she loves Megumi. It's something a lot of people blame her for. If she had just killed him there, the Sukuna battle wouldn't have happened. But that's not really the truth. The only reason Sukuna even got his powerful is because Megumi refused to let Yuji die.

Megumi and Yuji going back and forth trying to save each other have been acts of love driving the plot of JJK since the beginning of this manga. If Megumi actually died on Yuji? Who knows what would happen.

...

A lot of readers have been on a very funny copium because of these last 3 chapters. Some of them joke that they are just one massive Takaba-induced hallucination. This theory has some merit to it! After all, his CT does two things:

1) It distorts reality.

2) By sheer force of will it bends people's souls to his whims.

One of the biggest complaints about the past 3 chapters has been the Merger plot ending abruptly. As of JJK 270 Tengen and Sukuna's remains have been mixed into the barrier around Japan and everything is just fine according to Gakuganji.

People wanted to see what the Merger would do, just like Kenjaku. In universe, Tengen made a prediction. They guessed that the impurity from humans would dominate and consume everything. The impurity that Higuruma wants to protect. The impurity that Higuruma sees in Yuji.

Would Sukuna activate the merger and kill Megumi to spite Yuji? Absolutely.

Would Yuji do or become anything to save Megumi's life? Absolutely.

Do whatever you want with this information.

[logansluvr]

TASTE

LOGAN HOWLETT x F!READER

SUMMARY : You won’t admit it, but it stung when you realized you were just a placeholder while Logan waited for Jean AGAIN. Now that she has him, she realizes that no matter how hard she tries there will always be you somewhere on him…Or Jean and Logan both fucked themselves over while you enjoy the aftermath.

WARNING : description of mutant powers (all things nature), angst, more angst, Jean slander (sorry), suggestive content, nothing deeper than a make out, hurt/slight comfort, some Logan slander (ily), Logan has some self reflection time, love triangle??square???

basically I was listening to taste and this sparked in my head and now it won’t leave me alone…

I heard you're back together and if that's true

you'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you

IN ALL HONESTY SOMEWHERE IN THE BACK OF your mind you knew it was coming. It was nice to indulge in the fantasy though. You indulged in it as an ode to your past self ( you from a year ago ) when you realized that what you thought of Logan was more than a crush. The opportunity presented itself so sinfully you thought it had to be some sort of hallucination.

You couldn’t say no, after all you still had that ode to your past self and deep down you felt…comforted. Comforted in the fact that Logan had thought about you in that way — though that thought diminished soon enough.

At first it was nice, Logan treated you right even if there was something a little off about it. He took you out on occasion, made you laughed, hell he even laughed with you.

There was a point after three months where he began to not mind falling asleep in your bed — even if he acted a little colder the day after it happened.

There were nights when he would be extra tense after a small rescue mission, or after something happened during the day.

He’d take it out on you by burying himself inside of you, biting down on your chest in places clothes covered — other times he’d just bury his head between your thighs taking his time in making you fall apart over and over.

But after nights like those he wouldn’t even look you in the eyes directly. It seemed that only a half a year into your relationship you realized something odd. Certain people in the halls would stare at you with pity, Scott Summers barely looked you in the eyes and even the professor seemed like each word he said to you he was internally wincing.

It was only one night after a particularly rough mission that you had pieced most of it together. Once you were in your room you recalled the high tension between Scott, Jean, and Logan. Most of the time you felt like you a Ororo were missing a big piece of something — especially with the way they’d all go at each other.

You were grateful he had the decency to tell you rather than ignore you, you weren’t even paying attention. Too busy trying to hold back tears — ones you were confused on having.

He muttered something along the lines of you being too young and he just isn’t ready for something like that. You didn’t care, it was a bunch of bullshit. You didn’t need telepathy to know that.

Once he shut the door behind him you had walked to the shower, turned it on, stepped inside with your clothes on, and cried. For a minute you didn’t even realize why you were crying until you had the realization that it was because you felt more for him than you initially let yourself believe.

The days after that everyone sensed the tension, Logan tried to act normal. You however, you just simply brushed him off — he didn’t need to know that he had seriously fucked with your mental. You were going to act normal, act like it didn’t affect you.

It was bad enough the professor looked at you with sympathy the day after your crying session.

On the bright side he fixed your schedule around so you’d see less of Logan.

The week following the breakup you realized he hadn’t even waited that long before he was already crowding Jean — that’s when you realized it wasn’t one big coincidence Scott was meaner at the same time Logan was crowding the Dr.

You had unfortunately turned down the hallway about a week and a half after the breakup, patting a student on the shoulder after they had bombarded you with questions. You were going to meet Scott, his next class in coordination with yours.

But as you glanced at the end of the hall you saw him. Standing next to her, arm on the wall as he smiled down at her. Staring like she was the only thing in the room — you could almost hear the swish of the trees outside, an affect from the anger simmering beneath you.

Thankfully someone stepped out of the classroom you were about to enter. It was one about halfway down the hall, and it seemed to draw both your attention and the attention of couple practically eye fucking at the end of the hallway.

Scott glanced at them, thankful for his sunglasses so they couldn’t see the glare on his face before he turned towards you. Clenching his jaw he walked towards you, handing you the lesson plan he had worked up.

You were far too busy reading over the sheet to notice the gaze burning holes into your back — but Scott wasn’t. And as he glanced over his shoulder he found Logan Howlett staring directly at you.

And a Jean grey staring at him staring at you.

It was only about three weeks after the breakup when something seemed to change. You hadn’t truly been feeling better but you were getting there — busying yourself with other things. Working more on your abilities and working on your training.

You were none the wiser to the situation happening between the two people you’d successfully stopped feeling hatred for. You stopped the avoidance thing about two weeks after the breakup, the mansion was big but not that big.

While it didn’t outwardly bother you that much, other people seemed to notice a tense thing between the couple anytime you were in the vicinity.

There was a day when it seemed like everything went from bad to worse between them. It was a nice day outside and Jean found herself in Logan’s arms, holding onto him whilst his lips pressed against hers.

Her hands were tangling in his hair whilst they swapped whatever DNA they were hoping to swap. And when they pulled away to catch their breath her eyes remained closed, a small furrow in her brow as her tongue ran over her lips.

If someone were to ask her, she’d say she was hallucinating.

Because she could’ve sworn she tasted cherry lipgloss on Logan’s lips — cherry lipgloss she didn’t own.

Yet as her tongue darted out to lick her lips again, it was gone. Her eyes cracking open to find Logan’s gaze over her shoulder, and when she spun around to glance at what had got his attention there you were.

There you always were.

Oblivious to the fact that Logan was watching you. Oblivious to the fact that wherever you showed up he seemed to only look at you the way he used to look at Jean. Oblivious to the fact that all you had to do was enter the same room and all of the sudden his attention was on you.

And it wasn’t on purpose, cause there was a moment where your mental forces had slipped and she probed. And when she dug deeper she only find pure oblivion, it made it all the harder to spite you.

She could ignore if she wanted too, and she tried. For a while. But every-time she kissed him, there was that lingering feeling of tasting cherry lipgloss.

The same cherry lipgloss she watched you apply in a mirror in the hallway.

And she swore your perfume lingered on him even if it had been weeks since you’d been within five feet of him.

Every time you close your eyes

And feel his lips, you're feelin' mine

And every time you breathe his air

Just know I was already there

this was short Ik but I’m currently crying because I had a smut with over 6.k words and HALF OF IT DIDNT SAVE?!??!?

anyways <33 taglist??

[httpsdrewstarkey]

shadows of doubt || drew starkey

authors note: hi here’s a part two to jealously that several people requested :) flashbacks are in bold print masterlist

warnings: angst! mentions of odessa

synopsis: reader struggles with the heartbreak of her relationship with drew, longing for the intimacy they once shared. as she reflects on their emotional disconnect, she realizes she deserves a love that values her, even if it means letting go.

Y/N laid in the hotel bed with a heavy weight pressing on her chest. The alcohol she had consumed earlier with Madelyn still pulsed through her veins, making her regret every sip. It made her thoughts spiral, the memories from a few months ago washing over her. Her throat began to tighten, and her vision started to blur, causing the frustration and anger to build as she replayed their last conversation and the way it ended. She rolled over, feeling defeated, and made her way to the bathroom hoping a shower would help ease her mind. She closed her eyes, letting the soft hum of the shower fill the silence as the warm water ran down her body, but the heat only intensified the memory of their last time together. 

Her back was pressed against Drew’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing as his arms wrapped around her. His warmth seeped into her skin, and though the heat from the water was comforting, it was the softness of his touch that had her heart racing.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck. His voice was low, almost vulnerable as his hand traced a slow, soothing path up and down her arm. 

“I missed you too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, the weight of her own longing heavy in her chest. His lips found her neck as he pressed his lips onto her damp skin. She could feel him smiling against her, the feeling making her pulse quicken. 

“I missed you more,” he murmured, a smile evident in his voice as he continued to kiss her neck.  Y/N couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her, the intimacy of his presence almost making her nervous at the closeness of their bodies. 

His hands moved across her body, his fingertips brushing the skin of her stomach before moving to her sides as if he was trying to memorize her. She tilted her head, giving him more access to her neck, kissing up to the spot just beneath her ear, where he knew it would make her melt.

“How was Omar’s concert?” she asked, her voice soft, an attempt to ground herself in the moment, to focus on something other than the intoxicating closeness between them.

“It was great,” Drew replied between kisses, “I wanted you there with me, always want you with me.” His voice was low, filled with a sincerity that made her heart feel like it would burst. She let out a soft hum in response, a small smile on her lips. His hand rested lightly on her stomach for a moment, his thumb brushing small circles as his other hand moved to her waist, gripping her. 

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against his shoulder as his lips returned to her neck, more insistent this time, each kiss sending sparks across her skin. His fingertips tracing down her stomach, finding her clit. 

She was snapped out of her thoughts, forcing herself to forget the way his hands felt all over her body, as though they were imprinted into her skin, leaving a lingering sensation that almost made her itch. She missed him—the way he could make her feel when they were alone, the warmth of his touch and the quiet connection they shared in private. But no matter how much she craved those moments, she couldn't shake the ache of wishing it could be something more. Every intimate moment was a bittersweet reminder of what they weren’t.

The memory hit her hard. It wasn’t just the words—they were sharp, yes—but the way he’d brushed off everything she was trying to say, as if her feelings didn’t even matter. She could still feel the sting, that lump in her throat, the tears burning as they fell because he wouldn’t even acknowledge what she was going through. He just stood there, denying it all, while she unraveled in front of him.

The night had started out so differently. They had just stepped out of the shower, steam lingering in the air as Drew wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. His warmth, the softness of his touch—it made everything feel right. They settled into their evening routine, light music drifting through the background of Drew’s apartment. It felt cozy, intimate, like they were in their own little bubble. But then, as she glanced over at his phone lying on the coffee table, a notification caught her eye, and her heart sank. Odessa.

She blinked, trying to push down the sudden rush of emotion, but the name stuck out like a warning sign. She could feel the adrenaline beginning to pump through her body, her muscles tensing as her mind raced. Her thoughts spiraled. Odessa had always been around, part of his life in ways that sometimes-made her feel small, unseen. She wasn’t the jealous type—or so she told herself—but seeing her name again, popping up so casually on Drew’s phone, stirred something in her she couldn’t ignore.

“Is Odessa flying in?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

Drew looked up, surprise flickering across his face as he walked over to the couch, handing her a plate of food. “Yeah, I told you that the other day, baby.”

“Right.” She fought to keep her tone steady, but her stomach twisted. “But you didn’t mention she was staying here with you.”

He shrugged, a casual gesture that felt like a slap. “It’s not a big deal. She’s just a friend.”

“Just a friend,” she echoed, surprise giving way to rising anger. “So, you thought it wouldn’t matter to tell me? That I wouldn’t care?”

“Why would it matter? You’ve met her. She’s not a threat.”

“Not a threat?” The incredulity in her voice was sharp. “You’re so close with her. It feels like I’m competing for your attention while she gets all of you.”

Drew shook his head, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. “You’re making this a problem. Odessa’s visit doesn’t change anything between us.”

Her heart raced, frustration swelling. “You spend hours on the phone with her, laughing and sharing things you don’t even tell me. How can you not see why I’m upset?”

“Because you’re overreacting!” he yelled, the tension thickening in the air. His jaw tightened, and she was taken aback—he rarely raised his voice and it stirred something unsettling inside her.

“Overreacting?” Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “I’m trying to explain how this makes me feel, and you just brush it off like it’s nothing. It’s like my feelings don’t matter to you.”

“You’re making it all about you!” he shot back, crossing his arms defensively. The air felt suffocating, as if the walls were closing in. “This isn’t betrayal. You’re just looking for reasons to be upset.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so upset if you actually listened to me!” she exclaimed, tears welling despite her efforts to stay strong. “I just want to feel like I matter, Drew. But every time I try to talk to you, you act like I’m crazy for caring.”

He turned away, frustration boiling into silence as she felt the distance between them expanding.  “You always do this, Y/N. You blow things out of proportion.”

“No, I’m not blowing anything out of proportion!” she cried, desperation creeping into her voice. “It hurts when you don’t share things with me. When I feel like I’m the last to know, it makes me feel small and unimportant.”

“Maybe you should focus on your own insecurities instead of blaming me for them,” he replied, the coldness creeping into his tone.

"I’m not blaming you!” Tears spilled over, burning against her skin. “I’m trying to tell you how your actions make me feel, and you refuse to acknowledge it!”

She was a mess, tears rolling down her face as they sat in silence, both frustrated with each other. She looked at him, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. A part of her debated breaking the silence, maybe even telling him he was right—that she was overreacting. But she couldn’t do it. She knew she deserved better. She loved the little bubble they shared, but she also knew that eventually, the world would see them together, and she couldn’t ignore how that felt.

Swallowing hard, she finally broke the silence, keeping her eyes locked on him, as she stood from the couch, “You can’t keep dismissing me like this, I won’t let you make me look like a fool.”  

As Y/N made her way back to the bed, the silence of the room pressed in around her, she stared at the ceiling, her heart aching, her mind swirling with memories of him. She longed for the comfort of his presence, for the way they’d retreat into their own little bubble where the rest of the world didn’t matter. She wanted to hear his voice, feel his arms around her, and pretend everything was okay. The need was so intense, it felt like it might tear her apart.

She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, her chest heaving with the weight of it all, the tears continuing to run down her face. But even through the tears, there was a new kind of strength taking root inside her, growing quietly beneath the sadness. She knew she was worth more. And she would wait—no matter how long it took—for the kind of love that made her feel whole, the kind of love that didn’t hurt.

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Soul Bound

Mob!Nico x reader

Warnings: some angst, but mostly cute. Mentions of death, of heartbreak.

Previous part

A/n: I apologize for how long this took me! I really really hope it was worth the wait haha. I’ll be editing and proofing later but wanted to get it out for y’all. Enjoy!

————————————————————————

Blinking softly, Nico breathes in the scent of your shampoo, the soft strands of your hair warm with each puff of air he exhales. Snowflakes scatter the streetlights coming in the bedroom window, the night clouds dumping snow on the ground. He thinks of you, contemplates waking you up so you can see it for just a moment. You love the snow, love how soft and quiet everything seems during the winter.

You’d love this storm. The flakes are big and fat, building up on the windowsill like something out of a movie.

Nico buries the tip of his nose further into your hair, restraining himself from rousing you. You need to sleep, need to get better so he can take you home. So that you’ll both get your normal lives back.

His thumb rubs circles over your hip, trying to soothe you while also lull himself back to sleep. He’s not sure what woke him. It could be the two wedding rings he has hidden in this bedroom, one that you’re very aware of. It could be the lingering bruises and cuts on your skin, marks that taunt Nico. Or it could be the fact that this entire trip has derailed his relationship with you.

He expected to leave here with a fiancée. Now he’ll be lucky if he leaves here with a girlfriend that still wants the pendant around her neck.

Swallowing heavily, Nico closes his eyes and pushes the thought out his head. You’ve picked him a million times over, he shouldn’t be scared that suddenly you wouldn’t do it again.

“Nico,” you murmur, voice just a whimper and it startles him. His body goes rigid, arms tightening around you and he cranes his neck to look down at the top of your head.

“I��m here darling, what’s wrong?”

Fingertips trail over your forehead, brushing out of place baby hairs away. You stir, heavy eyelids fighting to flutter open as his palm settles on the side of your neck, fingers lightly squeezing in encouragement. Fingers that can cause so much damage but touch you like you’re a precious pearl.

“I had a bad dream,” you finally whisper, shaken. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, guilt settling like a stone in his gut. Unable to look at you, he focuses back on the bedroom window.

“Got you,” he swears “I’ve got you baby, you’re ok.”

Your back shifts under his hands, ribs expanding as you inhale deeply and blow out a rattled breath. Then you do it again, the puff of air hot on his bare chest. Finally, you settle.

Not for long though. Shuffling, you push yourself up until you’re straddling his waist, weight heavy on his stomach and thighs but welcome. Knuckling at your sleepy eyes, you blink sluggishly at him.

“Why are you up handsome?”

He shrugs, smiling softly at the sweet name. Your fingers reach out for him, gentle and tickling as you push a strand of hair off his forehead.

“Was watching the snow fall and thinking about you.” Nico admits, voice just a whisper. Like a bolt of electricity has gone through you, you perk up, eyes brightening.

“Snowing?”

Pursing his lips to keep from laughing, Nico nods against the pillow. You duck your head down, rolling your lips inwards and trying to hide that beautiful smile from him. His heart swells with love, thumping painfully in his chest. Hands running up and down either side of your waist, he finally gives.

“Come on, let’s go outside.”

~~~~

It’s like a dream. The buttery glow of the street lights on the fresh snow, reflecting off your smiling cheeks that have turned pink in the cold.

The fabric of your snow pants swish as you waddle away from him, snow crunching loudly under both of your boots.

Clouds of fog dance in front of Nico’s eyes, thickening as he huffs and puffs after you. Stumbling after you, Nico lazily tosses the snowball in his gloved hands. It smacks you square in the back, and you squeal dramatically.

Nico stops as you whirl around, scooping up your own snowball and he hides behind his arms as you throw it into his chest. Flakes of snow drift up to his chin and cheeks, biting cold but he laughs anyway.

“Right in the heart baby?” He gasps, clutching at his pec. “Ouch.”

You pout, locking your hands together under your chin. “Oh no poor baby Nico.” You tease, a wicked grin morphing on your lips as you quickly scoop up more snow and run at him.

Tossing the half formed snowball into his stomach, you laugh evilly and try to duck around him. Luckily Nico has quick reflexes and manages to wrap his arms around you, lifting you up and swinging you in a circle.

Clutching at his hands and arms, you squeal and giggle, snow boots and legs drifting through the air. Nico keeps swaying you back and forth until his biceps burn from holding you and his stomach and cheeks ache from laughing.

“Cold?”He asks after your feet are back on the ground, the ice cold tip of his nose nudging your cheek.

“Yeah,” you pant out, still trying to catch your breath. The two of you haven’t gone far from the house. You’re still close enough that if any of the boys are light sleepers they definitely heard you laughing and play fighting. Not that Nico cares.

This is his house and he can do as he pleases on the property. Hell if he wanted to walk around buck naked he’s more than welcome to do so.

However, it is getting late (or early, he supposes) so he nudges you back towards the house with two hands on your waist. You move in silence alongside him, kicking snow off your boots on the porch before huddling into the entryway. Like a well oiled machine you seamlessly strip out of your snow clothes and layers, leaving them abandoned in heaps in front of the door to be dealt with in the morning.

Nico’s gotten down to his socks, a pair of boxers, and his shirt when you suddenly crowd into his chest, hands holding his face tenderly as you guide him down into a kiss. Like its second nature he holds you, arms snaking around your torso and lifting you to your toes so he can kiss you back.

It’s then that he realizes you’ve taken off almost everything, the only piece of clothing left on your body the soft pair of cotton underwear that brushes against his pinky finger.

Your skin is warm and soft, soothing against his thawing fingertips as he runs a hand up your spine, fingers gripping your hair.

Head fuzzy, Nico groans when you push your chest tight against his, sweetly nudging at his bottom lip with your tongue.

“Baby,” he murmurs gently, every part of him aching to just lay you down on the stupidly soft fur rug just across the way and have his way with you. But he can’t bring himself too, even if his dick is starting to thicken up in interest.

You must be able to tell by his tone, eyes fluttering open and swollen lips brushing against his. Gaze switching between his eyes, you stroke at the scruffy hairs of his beard.

“Are you ever going to stop looking at me like I’m hurt?”

It’s not accusatory. Or angry. Or even disappointed. Your tone is curious, like you’re simply asking him if he still likes coffee ice cream.

“You’re all healed up, I know.” He assures quietly, but earnestly. “And as badly as I want to make you feel good on me, I can’t until I’m certain that you’re all healed up inside too.”

Something warm and tender settles in your features, lifting the corners of your lips in a bittersweet smile.

“I know,” you whisper, slowly stepping back from him. He’s sure you’ve lost your top somewhere in the mess clothes beneath your feet, so he tugs off his own t-shirt, straightening out the sleeve. You duck your head down when he holds it open to you, helping you pull it down over your shoulders and torso.

Nico holds you again, desperate to feel you against him. His favorite thing in the world is getting to hold you close to him.

You lay your head on his shoulder, left arm squished between your two bodies and right hand innocently fiddling with the waistband of his boxers.

Bashfully, you say, “I don’t know how to be, though. I’m so mad at Timo, and I’ve never been mad at him before. And then I feel bad because I’m not mad you but I should be if I’m mad at him. But I don’t even know why I’m mad.”

Nico hums, swallowing thickly. You maybe should be mad at him. He knows he didn’t handle the situation well, knows he let his fear get ahold of him and he shut you down to protect you. Instead of using this as a chance to make you stronger and smarter, he put you in metaphorical bubble wrap.

“Yes you do,” he finally responds. “You just won’t say it because you don’t think it justifies how upset you are. But it does baby, and you have every right to feel that way.”

You sniffle. “Ok.”

He shakes his head fondly, amused by your lack of response and knowing that it simply means you’re really listening to him.

“But Timo has his own justifications for what he did and until you hear his side of it, you’ll both just be angry at each other.”

Your hand runs up his stomach, fingers cold on his skin and you teasingly pinch at the fat on his lower belly. “When did you get so smart?”

Looking up at him with twinkling eyes and an amused grin, Nico presses a soft kiss between your eyes.

“When I met you.”

~~~~

Nico’s arm is heavy on your shoulders as the two of you descend the stairs. It’s obvious that last nights snowy adventure has left you two exhausted if the dragging feet and yawns are anything to go by.

Chatter, the noisy clattering of pans and silverware travel from the kitchen. Sharing a curious look with Nico, you stop in the entryway and blink twice to make sure you’re not still sleeping.

Mercer is standing over the stove, a pan of bacon popping and sizzling in front of him. Luke is looming over the toaster, a loaf of bread in hand and a pile of toast stacked on a plate. At the bar top, Timo is elegantly slicing through tomatoes, carefully watching Alex in front of him who is doing his best to replicate Timo’s technique. And Jack sits with them, nimble fingers tearing apart a head of lettuce and laying the leafs out on a platter.

Mouth parted in shock, Mercer turns around, a spatula with greasy bacon in hand. He freezes when he spots you two, eyes wide and caught. You realize he’s wearing a white apron that reads “I ♥️ fondue” and wonder if it’s Timo’s or Nico’s.

“Morning sleepyheads.” He greets, bacon dripping grease onto the floor. Beside you, Nico sighs and drags a hand across his face.

“Mess, Merc.” He grumbles, more tired than annoyed or angry.

Mercer makes a noise of surprise, rushing to the island counter and laying the strips of bacon out on a platter. Nico removes his arm from you, grabbing the dish towel off the oven rack and moving to clean up the mess.

“Thanks boss,” Mercer grins, going back to his post at the stove. Nico grunts in acknowledgment, haphazardly throwing the rag into the sink as he heads towards the corner where the coffee pot is nestled.

One track minded for his morning caffeine, Nico putters around silently, dipping in and out of cabinets.

Rubbing your eyes, you look at the other boys. Jack is still going about his business of arranging lettuce pieces but he’s got a shit eating grin on his face, watching Nico intently. You already know he’s waiting for his boss to perk up so he can make some crude remarks or guesses at why the both of you slept in today.

Avoidant, Timo is locked in on the task of slicing tomatoes but you can tell he’s distracted. He’s slowed down, hands moving like molasses as if he’s putting more effort into not looking around than he is cutting vegetables.

Alex however, is watching you. He’s still holding his knife and half cut tomato in his hands, but they sit limp on the counter top. He angles himself towards you, gaze hesitant.

“I tried to make your matcha for you. It’s in the fridge. Not sure how good it is though.”

As usual, he just warms your heart. They couldn’t even make a cup of coffee for Nico, they’re boss, and yet Alex took the time to make you matcha before he started on breakfast BLTs with the rest of them.

“Thanks,” you smile, “M’sure it’s fine. If Nico can make it, anyone can.”

Now leaning against the counter next to Luke, Nico glares at you over the rim of his coffee mug. Even so he looks cute, all puffy eyes and messy hair, thick eyebrows pinched together.

You clear your throat, smiling drooping as you soak in how awkward it feels to be around all of them. How Luke still hasn’t said a word and that’s weird of him. Neither has Jack, and that’s so out of character it’s detrimentally concerning.

And poor Alex who looks like he’s just swallowed a buzzing alarm clock, who has never been holy at handling conflict between those he loves. Guilty, you’re moving before you can even think about it.

Timo must see you coming though because he drops everything in his hands, turning just right that you fit perfectly into the seam of his shoulder when you throw your arms around him.

He’s bigger than Nico, just a hair taller and a bit thicker, but the two of you are like pieces of the same puzzle. Different than you and Nico, but just as perfect.

The hug doesn’t say everything you need it to, but it says enough. You can tell by the way he sighs in relief, breath hot on the top of your head and he melts into you. Your fingers cling to his back, holding him tightly and desperately and it feels like the more you cling to him the tighter he squeezes you around the shoulders.

Closing your watering eyes, you puff out a weighted breath. “Please tell me you helped him make that matcha?” You whisper, just loud for Timo to hear. You can feel his laugh on your skin.

“Of course I did.”

~~~~

Picking at the sleeve of your cable knit sweater, you look from Nico to Timo, lips pursed. Your sat on the freshly made bed, legs crossed over each other in front of you and that teddy bear from Nico’s childhood bedroom resting by your feet.

Timo clears his throat uncomfortably, sat in the large windowsill across from the bed. The sky behind him is bright and blue, showing off after a night of dumping snow in the town. It hurts your eyes a bit to look at it, stabs at the tender spot behind your right eye.

Nico is slowly pacing by the side of the bed. Not anxiously or uneasy, but in a way that makes you feel both of those. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, the string of his hoodie bitten between his teeth.

Every once in awhile he looks up from his feet, looks at Timo like he can’t really decide what to do with him. Then he looks at you, and his eyes go all gentle and soft, and his lips lift just the slightest bit. Then he looks back at his feet and paces.

“Um Schoa?”

He stops, looks up at you expectantly. “Hi, wanna sit for a second?” You ask politely, patting the bed next to you. His brow furrows.

“Why?”

Laughing, you say, “So that I can hold your hand when I tell you that we don’t need a mediator.”

Across the room Timo chuckles. Nico’s head snaps over to glare at him and Timo hides his smile behind his hand, pretending to scratch above his lip.

Climbing to your knees, you shuffle to the end of the bed until you can reach Nico, taking his hands in yours. Your touch pulls his attention from Timo, gaze going tender as it falls on you. You almost melt at the way his head tilts ever so slightly and his thumbs rub at the back of your hands.

“I know that I just…”

“Just what?” You encourage.

His next breath comes out slow and calculated, eyebrows pinching ever so slightly as he thinks. “I’m trying to decide if I should make you two wait to do this and take you with me to Luca’s.”

The investigation (and subsequent interrogation) that had taken place after Lena and Marcello abducted you was officially completed a few days ago. Luca has been waiting for you to heal before he wanted to go over the run down and findings with Nico.

You know why Nico is so torn up about making you and Timo go. He’s trying to open the work side of the family to you, just as you’d asked him to do. He wants you to feel included, to know that he’s not trying to hide this.

But at the same time, you’re relationship with Timo is more important to you than knowing why and what happened that day in his grandfathers old house.

Besides, it makes your skin crawl thinking about having to watch security footage, hear stories and records taken during interrogation with Luca and the rest of the boys around. Probably Nina too, and whatever men they have tailing them.

Embarrassing, you decide. It would so embarrassing to look them in the eye after they’ve seen you at your weakest.

“I want to hear it from you,” you say, fingers tightening around his palms. “Just you, please.”

He reads you so well. Can tell immediately why you don’t want to go, that you only trust him enough to relive that day with him. No one else.

“Ok,” Nico agrees easily, right hand letting go of yours to cradle the back of your head. He ducks down and presses a comforting peck to your forehead. “I promise I’ll tell you everything we find, show you whatever you want after ok?”

He straightens out, smoothes his hand over the top of your head and looks to Timo.

“You’ll be updated too,” Nico tells him. “As long as you keep her safe and happy today, deal?”

Your best friend scoffs. “That’s literally my job description. Along with being hot.”

His words make you giggle, the sound so unexpected you press into Nico’s stomach to stifle the sound into his hoodie. You know better than to laugh when Nico is talking business, but sometimes those boys get the best of you.

And as much as Nico pretends it annoys him, you know he likes to see how happy the family makes you. You can tell by the way he softly tugs at the roots of your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you look up at him. He’s fighting back an amused grin when you do.

“Come on Schao,” you mumble. “Get outta here, it’s Timo time.”

~~~~

Snow crunching under your boots, you sip at your latte, wincing when the foam burns the tip of your tongue, but too impatient to wait for it to cool.

To the left of you, Timo has popped the lid off of his drink, swirls of steam billowing up into the frigid air and he’s cautiously blowing to cool the liquid down.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, the two of you strolling lackadaisically through the streets of town. After a moment he takes a deep breath, gloved hand shoving the lid back on his latte. He takes a sip.

“I’m sorry that I left you in the hospital that day,” he finally says, voice quiet like he’s unsure of what to even say. “I should’ve told Nico that you could handle it.”

“Do you really believe that?” You ask, “or are you just saying that now?”

He frowns, lips pursuing. He looks like he’s fighting himself on what to say and you’re unsure if that’s a bad thing or not.

“When Nico came me to that day and told me he lost you, it was like the ground fell out beneath me,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how Nico kept his cool, but I mean he’s always been good at knowing what to do and when to do it.

“So when he said it wasn’t the best idea to let you at Lena and stuff, I trusted him-“

“You should’ve trusted me.” You cut in, the reminder of him picking Nico over you making your temper flare.

“I know I know,” Timo concedes, holding a hand out to stop you at the streets crosswalk. He checks both ways before nodding you along. “But I was scared and I just-I couldn’t-I didn’t trust myself.”

The sidewalk under your feet feels slick, and you reach out to link your arm through Timo’s. He’s sturdy, locking your arm under his bicep and slipping his hand into his pocket.

“What do you mean?”

Timo sighs heavily, breath shaking with the weight of it. “It was my job to train you, to prepare you to be Nico’s prinzessin and I failed. Somewhere along the way, something you were supposed to know didn’t click and I didn’t make sure that it did. And then all of this happened.

“I did this to you and Nico!”

He’s stopped walking now, angled himself towards you. His eyes are wet and red when they meet yours, the sadness in them colder than the winter temperatures.

“I had to side with him. It was the only thing that felt right after I screwed up so badly. You know Nico, he can fix literally anything.”

You wrench your arm out of his hold, rising to your toes and throwing it around his neck into a bruising hug.

Timo tucks his face into your shoulder, shoulders hunching down to meet your height. Blinking away the tears in your own eyes, you look up at the bright blue sky and focus on the puffy clouds drifting by.

“I had a panic attack,” you murmur weakly. “At the party. Nico and I were fighting, it felt like he was so far away and I just freaked. It was like I was on autopilot, I just went outside to catch my breath.”

You swallow thickly, choking back tears. “As soon as the world around me came back I realized what I did and tried to go back but-“

“Don’t say it,” he cuts off, voice strained and broken. “Don’t tell me how they hurt you.”

“I should’ve been ready,” you continue instead. “Everything they did I went over with you a million times. At least everything I can remember them doing. B-but it was like my head was exploding. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t see.

“My head hurt so badly. I could feel the instructions and lessons right there but nothing was clicking. All I could think about was Nico, how much I wanted him there.”

The air is colder on your cheeks now, and you realize it’s the wet trails of tears that burn. You tuck into Timo shoulders, wet eyelashes fluttering shut to hide from the world.

“I failed Timo. You and Nico prepared me, I just couldn’t do it.”

The arm around your middle squeezes, so tightly it takes your breath away. “That’s not true,” he utters, earnestly. “You didn’t fail. You showed all of us up, you got Luca to side with you. You got the boys out here.

“You showed me and Nico that you know how to lead, all on your own.”

His assurance is like warm water trickling on your head, trailing down into your bones. It’s soothing, calming to hear. Especially from him, from your best friend in the entire world. And he’s a people pleaser, he’ll tell anyone anything they want to hear. This, however, is sincere.

You can tell by the way he looks down at you after you’ve released him from your hug, baby blue eyes certain and steady.

He holds his arm out to you. “M’sorry I didn’t listen to you before.”

“I’m sorry I shut down on you,” you apologize, taking his arm like before. He nods down the street.

“Come on. I want to show you something.”

~~~~

The room is so silent, Nico thinks he could hear snowflakes hitting the roof of the building if he really listened. If it weren’t for the sound of Holtzy breathing so shakily, angrily.

Nico knows the feeling.

The large display screen in Luca’s conference room has gone dark, reflecting a distorted image of them gathered around the table. Nico doesn’t really see that picture. No, he still sees Marcello tying to the chair, how harshly your limo body was thrown down and manipulated with rope. He can still see the way your head lulled, even after you woke up. The way you tried to move and he’s not sure if the bindings stopped you or the fact that you looked like you couldn’t even identify your own limbs.

He can still see the blood that smattered the floor when Lena hit you. Can see and hear the way you cried when Marcello touched you.

Nico never got the footage of the warehouse in Philly when you taken the first time. He had no way of accessing it, especially after he lit the place on fire. He’s thankful for that now.

If he can’t stand to see this, he would’ve died seeing that.

“All of that because she wanted Nico?”

It’s Luke who speaks up first, lips curled in disdain as he looks away from the screen to Luca. The older Hischier sibling looks guilty as he nods, bringing a fist to his mouth as he clears his throat.

“She wanted the business. And the only way to get that for her was through Nico.”

The phones they’d taken and unlocked from Marcello and Lena lay on the oak table in front of him, message threads pulled up. Nico doesn’t need to read them again. Doesn’t need to see another video, hear anymore audio. The story is clear cut.

Lena convinced Marcello that you were using Nico, that you wanted to infiltrate the family from the inside where’d you’d be able to take over both Luca and Nina’s territory.

Marcello believed her, spurred by the fact that they never saw you in a Devs pendant or with a ring. Because in the states, those marks are subtle and hidden. Yours is always tucked under your shirt.

Unlike in Switzerland, where a pendant is always flaunted, every outfit centered around the piece of gold.

And then they devised a plan. One carefully laid out in a text thread between the two the same night Nico took you to Luca’s bar. The same night that you had a run with Lena, apparently. Her friends said something to Luca about it, his camera picked up the moment in front of the bathroom, and Nina confirmed it.

Nico had no idea about it. Hadn’t even known his ex-whatever was even back in town. He can’t believe he didn’t notice. He’s usually so attentive, so analytic of his whereabouts. He’d let his guard down that night too. Because he was so happy to see his siblings, to see you fit right into that booth in the bar with his sister and at the pool table with Luca.

He remembers holding you that night in the bar. Loving and kissing on you in a way he doesn’t normally do in public. How he swayed you to his favorite song and held your waist when helping you line up the queue ball. The way he whispered stupid little things into your ear just to get you to giggle and curl into him, give him a reason to press sweet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Lena most of noticed. Must of seen how fucking in love he is with you. He never took her to his family’s places, never played her any songs he liked, never tried to make her laugh.

It makes him nauseous to think that someone took that love and used it to hurt you. That she saw him with you and decided that was reason enough to put you in the hospital, to articulate a plan that would take you out of his life forever.

Because that was the intention.

It’s written out in front of him. Kidnap you, use you as bait to get a private meeting with Nico. And when he’d get there by himself, Marcello would have the barrel of his pistol to your temple and Nico would barely get to say your name before he’d pull the trigger.

And Lena would throw herself at him, threaten to turn him in for treason if he didn’t agree to get back with her. She’d tell his whole family how you were using them, say Nico was in on it, and that would be it.

“She should’ve killed her,” Holtzy mutters, and Nico can’t say he disagrees with him. There was a reason he was saving Marcello and Lena after their interrogation. He wanted to have the whole story before he decided what to do.

You took matters into your own hands though, and Nico now thinks that was merciful of you. Because he’d hurt them in ways they could never imagine if he had the chance to now.

All of this because Marcello couldn’t think to check around your fucking neck for a ring or pendant before he strangled you with Nico’s scarf.

“Alex,” Nina breathes in disappointment, lips parted like she wants to scold him or defend you letting Lena live.

“She should’ve,” Nico agrees, so angry it burns his skin, claws at his throat. “She should’ve fucking killed all of us. When we left her at that hospital, when we lied to her.”

He looks over at his boys, at Holtzy who’s always been so fiercely defensive and protective of you it rivals Nico. At Luke and Jack who tease the two of you, who tell you that you can do better and love to drive the two of you crazy but still flew out here last minute because they believe in you. And Mercer who’s always so immature and playful, goofing off and acting like he’s still the 17 year old kid Nico brought into Jersey.

Mercer who worked with you and Luca to execute your plan of revenge. He stepped up lead, got them all together on that flight, was your second in command. The boys took orders from him that day, same as you.

He’s proud of them. Nico is so fucking proud of this group of kids that you turned into men.

“But she did what she thought was best, not what she wanted,” he tells Holtzy. “And we have to trust and accept that.”

The room goes quiet again. Luca takes his seat at the head of the table, running his hands through his hair. Nico locks the stolen phones, stacking them on top of each other and putting them in his hoodie pocket. In case you want to see them.

“I’m retraining,” Luca sighs. “All of my men. In phases every section is going through boot camp again. So that this never happens again Neeky.”

Nico nods, flashing a quick but grateful smile at his brother. He doesn’t blame Luca for this. He knows how Lena is -was- how conniving and controlling. She was so good at always playing the victim.

“We want to have a party kind of thing for you all before you head back to Jersey,” Luca nods towards the younger boys. “End on a happier note. I’ll shut down the bar for a night, have security still but it’ll be safer. Better.”

Nico takes a deep breath, tries to shake off how exhausting this meeting was. “We’ll be there.”

Nina is tapping her fingers on the table top, gaze burning into the side of Nico’s head. He looks over at her, raises an expectant eyebrow.

“When are you gonna do it?”

It. Propose. Nico winces.

“Do what?”

“What are you doing boss?”

Nico thinks the Hughes brothers could be twins with how in sync they always are, how they seem to have the same thoughts. He could kill Nina for bringing this up in front of them.

“Not here,” Nico mutters, looking away when Nina groans in frustration.

“You fought to get her back just to bail! Come on Nico, I saw you that day! You can’t let this scare you off.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching as he tries to keep his tone in check. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to be reminded that the whole purpose of this trip got hijacked and now he’s returning to the states with not just one, but two engagement rings. Neither of which are on your finger.

“M’not gonna do this to her here, Nina.”

“Why not?” She presses. “What could be better? She loves it here, you heard her.”

His temper flares, exploding out of him like boiling oil. “No I heard her screaming and crying as she was tortured!

“I watched her fight for her life in a place she was supposed to be happy. So no I’m not pulling out a ring, and looking her in the eye and explaining that the picture perfect proposal she asked for was lost because I left her alone for five minutes, but please marry me anyway. Sorry I’m asking in my brother’s sticky bar.”

Nico’s chest heaves, angry puffs of air rattling out of him as he sinks back into his chair. He rakes a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands painfully for some kind of release.

He can feel the eyes of all them, watching him like he might start yelling again.

“Boss,” Mercer mumbles cautiously, “she’d still marry you, you know that.”

Nico sighs, nods. “Yeah I know. She told me she still wants to. I just-I have to do it right. And it’s not right anymore.”

“Neeky, you could pull out a ring pop in the bathroom of the bar and that girl would still say yes to you.”

Nina is right. He knows she’s right. You told him that as long as he had the ring and was on his knee, you’d say yes.

But that’s not the point. The point is that he wanted it to be a big deal. Something he planned out, put thought into every detail. He wanted you to see the intention. That way you know he’s doing this because he wants to. Because he wants you.

“I know,” he mutters, the sound of you calling yourself a Hischier on that tape echoing in his head. The last name isn’t officially yours yet, but it’s yours in every sense of the word. “It’s not about her saying yes, I know she’ll say yes. It’s about me…”

Showing her.

He has to show you. Because he’s not great at saying things. He’s better with actions.

“It’s fine,” Nico dismisses, “I’ll figure something out.”

~~~~

Kids laughing and chattering fills the air, echoing around the large skating rink. Timo had bypassed the skate rentals desk when you came in, instead guiding you straight towards the upper stands.

You don’t know why he’s bringing you here, or why he’s staying so far from the actual ice, but you follow him anyway.

The sound of skates scraping the ice flitters up into the rafters, and you glance over to find a group of excited kids skating messily around the rink.

Timo sits dead center in the row, holding down your seat for him and you gladly take it, propping up your half-drank latte on your thigh. You look down, watch the kids skate and notice a woman among them. Beautiful red hair in a thick and loose braid, a black and white skating costume on, the sleeves and pants glittering with gems under the bright lights.

“Nico and I learned to skate here,” Timo says, crossing his foot over his knee and relaxing back into his seat like muscle memory. You wonder how many times he’s come here, probably sat in this exact same seat for some reason.

“It’s a nice rink,” you say, looking over. He’s looking at the ice so intently you think his gaze might magically melt it, create little pools of slush. No, he’s not looking at the ice, you realize, he’s looking at her. At the beautiful red head that’s now gathering the children in a circle for stretches.

“When we were about 13, this girl moved here. Went to our school and everything. She got on well with Nico. We would come here after school everyday, when we were putting off assignments especially. Luca would buy us tickets for the train and we’d come with him because he skated better.

“One day she was here too. And it was like nothing, the way she’d just join us. Never hockey, but she’d skate with us. And she was so beautiful, that way she moved, the way she opened up when she got on the ice…”

His voice has gone soft, distant like he’s lost in this vivid memory of this old friend. You take in the lovesick look on his face, so clear even from just his side profile, and it clicks. He brought you here because that girl on the ice right now is the girl he’s telling you about.

The girl he’d left here. The one Nico briefly mentioned to you once, a few years back when you asked him why Timo, with his beautiful blue eyes and his sweet smile, never went out on dates.

“Timo’s heart is back in Switzerland,” Nico had explained. “His girl is still there, I think.”

You reach over, lay your hand over his in his lap and he blinks, his fingers relaxing under your hold. “Her parents didn’t like us. They knew about Nico and his family, about how I was training with him too. Nico’s grandfather wasn’t the nicest person, hell Rino and Katja are like saints compared to his grandfather.

“So they told her to stay away from us. But she didn’t. Everyday she got on the train with us, sat right next to me and would pull out this cucumber snacks her mother made. She always had them for me. And I started bringing her stuff too. Chocolate and sweets from around my house. She has a sweet tooth but her mother never let her have it. Said it would make her unhealthy.”

Timo laughed quietly to himself, like he still can’t believe her parents were like that. Or maybe at his own rebelliousness, how he went directly against them to make her happy.

“That’s really sweet Timo,” you murmur, smiling to yourself. You’ve known he was a big softie, could’ve guessed that he’d be even worse when in love.

“Yeah, it was. We dated for a long time after that. Snuck around behind her parents back, even though we know they knew. But it was fun. And I was like a puppy in love…”

Something sad settles over his features, glosses over his eyes and he sighs softly.

You fill in the next part for him. “And then you left to Jersey with Nico.”

Timo puffs out his cheeks, nods just once. “I asked her to come with. Told her I’d marry her as soon as we got there. And she agreed, was ready to give up everything, even her figure skating career to come with me.

“But she wasn’t 18 yet and her parents could use that to stop her visa. They told her she couldn’t go with, they forbid it. And they threatened to disown her too.”

You laugh humorlessly, familiar with the abandonment of family. It makes you sad to think of her not even getting the chance to pick. Yeah it broke you to have to make a decision between Nico and your loved ones, but at least you had the agency to make that pick. Her parents never gave her that.

“Every time I’m here I come see her. Beg her to come with me. She’s not close to her parents anymore, but she never got over that teenage fear. And she has a career and a life here now. One without me.

“How am I supposed to ask her to give that up?”

He’s looking at you now, eyes glossy and begging, and it breaks your heart. You had no idea how tormented by love Timo has been all these years. That every year when he makes his annual trip home he tears open old wounds just to see his teenage sweetheart that he never got over.

Answers. He wants answers from you because you had been her before.

You swallow thickly, frowning sympathetically at him. “Tell her that,” you advise. “Tell her how much it hurts you to ask her to give that life up. And if she really loves you, it won’t matter.

“It’s not exactly a sacrifice if what you’re getting in return is far better in the end.”

“Is that how it was?” He asks. “For you and Nico?”

It’s not even a question you have to think about, nodding as your lips curl into a loving smile. “Yeah it was. Nico told me he’d never want to make me choose, but my family wanted me to. And no one who really loves you would make you choose.”

Timo sniffles, blinking back his tears and turning back to the rink. “I don’t want her to pick, I just want her to be happy. And I know she loves me still. Every time I’m home we fall back into who we were when I left. Like no time has ever passed.”

You can’t help but ache for him. So you lean your head against his shoulder, hold his hand to let him know you’re here for him, always.

“You know, for being my best friend, you kept this from me for a long time.”

Timo chuckles, squeezing your fingers in acknowledgment. “I wanted her to myself for a bit longer. And I knew if I told you you’d come flying over here in that jet to get her to come to Jersey.”

On the ice, the beautiful red head looks up from her lesson, immediately finding Timo in the stands. You were right, this must be his spot in the rink, some seat of significance.

Timo lifts his free hand, waving at her and she effortlessly skates a little flourish, wiggling her fingers back at him with a smile so wide you can see it from all the way up here.

You and Nico have your love story, you decide, and now it’s time for Timo to have his too. Whether it’s convincing him to stay here with her or convincing her to come home with him, you’ll do whatever it takes.

[astroeleanor]

How To Attract REAL Love Based on Your Venus Sign & 7H Sign

Understanding your Venus sign and the sign ruling your 7th house in astrology can be a powerful tool for attracting real, lasting love. Venus represents your values in relationships, how you express affection, and what you find beautiful and desirable. Meanwhile, the 7th house governs partnerships, commitment, and the qualities you seek in a significant other.

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ARIES VENUS/7TH HOUSE

You’re a natural initiator, don’t wait for others to come to you. Take the lead in your love life. Initiate conversations & displays of affection. Ask them out, message them first. Be direct about what you want. When you take the initiative, love naturally follows.

Pursue activities that excite you and make you feel alive. Tap into that Aries fire, channel your intensity in a way that’s productive.

Practice clear communication in all your relationships. If you’re interested in someone, be straightforward about it. Your directness is refreshing, and it lets others know exactly where they stand with you.

Spend time cultivating your sense of independence. Focus on building your own life—whether it’s through your career, hobbies, or personal growth. When you’re comfortable standing on your own, you’ll attract your person.

Work on slowing down and enjoying the process of getting to know someone. Focus on building a strong foundation before jumping into something serious. STOP MOVING TOO FAST and jumping headfirst into shit.

Let go of any need to impress or conform to societal expectations in dating. When you show up as your authentic self, you’ll attract someone who values you for who you are, not for who they want you to be.

Surround yourself with energetic, motivated people by joining groups, clubs, or activities that inspire you. Keep your social circle exciting.

Don’t shy away from being assertive or standing up for yourself, but also practice resolving conflicts in a way that builds understanding. You enjoy the passion that comes with standing your ground and challenging others. However, be mindful of how you approach conflict, making sure that it’s productive and not destructive.

TAURUS VENUS/7TH HOUSE

• Show up everyday for yourself. Focus on building a steady life, and someone who values stability will come to share it with you. Invest in your home, career, friendships, and personal well-being.

• Remember the little things about your love interest. Be consistent, apply pressure. Be upfront about your values and expectations.

• Create a peaceful, secure environment where you feel grounded.

• Do not rush into relationships. Love for you grows slowly, so patience will be your greatest asset. Focus on building strong, high-quality, meaningful connections.

• Engage in activities that connect you to your senses. Cooking a delicious meal, practice yoga, be in the present moment, wrap yourself in cozy blankets, take a warm bath, adorn yourself with jewelry, enjoy a spa day. Give yourself time to appreciate beauty, touch, pleasure in all forms.

• Reflect on your values and what you truly want in a relationship. Don’t settle for anything less than what feels aligned with your sense of security and stability.

• Find beauty in simplicity. What matters most are the small, meaningful moments of connection–a quiet evening at home, a walk in nature, or a home-cooked meal or a cup of tea. Spend time appreciating the small things that bring you joy.

• To attract love, be clear about your desire for security, whether it’s financial stability or emotional consistency. The right partner will appreciate your need for a stable foundation and will be willing to build that with you.

• Work on enjoying the present moment, slow down to smell the flowers. Practice mindfulness in your daily life. Take it slow and savor the present moment. Cultivate that calm and steady energy that characterizes your Venus placement.

GEMINI VENUS/7TH HOUSE

Talk your way into people’s hearts. Let your intellect and curiosity shine. Be your authentic, witty self. Engage in deep conversations, ask about your love interes’s ideas, show them the side of you that is constantly learning and growing.

Give compliments, use words of affirmations. Ask thoughtful questions. Be an active listener. Create a strong foundation for effective communication with the people in your life.

Lead with curiosity, lean into your curious and open-minded nature. Ask questions, learn new things, especially about the people that you’re attracted to. Show genuine interest in their ideas, thoughts, experiences and perspectives.

Keep things light and fun. The more playful the better. Engage in witty banter, fun adventures, allow yourself to have fun and not take dating too seriously.

To attract love, focus on cultivating intellectual connections. Engage with people who stimulate your mind, challenge your perspectives, and introduce you to new concepts.

You thrive on variety and change. Spice things up. Be open to meeting different types of people, exploring new places, trying new things, being flexible. The more variety you introduce in your life, the better.

Focus on cultivating your hobbies and interests. Real love shows up when you keep your mind engaged. Expose yourself to different cultures, viewpoints, and experiences.

Lean into your flirty side! Be playful, lighthearted.

Be honest about your need for freedom, both with yourself and potential partners. You need space to explore your interest and meet new people, so let that be known.

CANCER VENUS/7TH HOUSE

• Make yourself feel safe and cared for. When you create emotional safety within, you’ll attract someone who respects that space. Treat yourself with the same love you wish to give others.

• Express love through nurturing gestures, by being there for your partner when they need someone to talk to or by cooking for them.

• Practice being emotionally open, even in small ways. Share your thoughts and feelings with trusted friends or write down your emotions in a journal. By getting comfortable with vulnerability in safe spaces, you’ll be more prepared to open up when the right relationship comes along.

• Make your home an inviting space where you can feel comfortable and safe. Add personal touches to make it feel warm and cozy. Your home is an extension of your heart, make it feel like a sanctuary. This way you’ll naturally attract someone who appreciates that sense of emotional depth & warmth.

• Honor your need for emotional security by creating emotional stability within yourself. Practice self-soothing techniques, engage in therapy to process past hurts, focus on becoming emotionally grounded.

• Spend time reconnecting with family members or people who make you feel at home. Share stories, engage in family traditions, or reflect on who/what gives you a sense of belonging. This will help you feel more grounded and open to attracting love that’s equally deep and meaningful.

• Reflect on what you truly need in a partner, and don’t settle for anything less. Stay open to connections that feel deep and authentic, even if they don’t happen overnight. Real love takes time to develop.

LEO VENUS/7TH HOUSE

Let your inner child out to play. Be that fun, carefree person to date, show your partner how to enjoy life.

Work on becoming secure in who you are, that’s how you’ll draw others toward you.

Show up as your authentic self. Don’t dim your own light. Express your desires, opinions, ideas, perspectives and passions.

Surprise your person with small acts of kindness and affection (compliments, spontaneous dates, a heartfelt message or letter). Lean into your generosity and giving nature.

Love yourself LOUDLY. If your person isn’t here yet, take yourself out on dates, buy yourself flowers, wine and dine your damn SELF!

Be loyal to yourself. Never, ever, disrespect yourself or stay in situations where you’re not cherished. Stay away from people who try to dim your own light.

Before committing, make sure that your partner is as loyal and invested as you are. Build trust by taking your time, don’t give your heart away too quickly.

Be open about your passions, your talents, your hobbies and actively cultivate them.

Celebrate your own achievements, step into your confidence, don’t shrink yourself to make others feel comfortable.

VIRGO VENUS/7tH HOUSE

In love, don’t shy away from offering a helping hand or some thoughtful advice, you attract people by being there when they need you most.

Start by focusing on the small details of your own life. Show up for yourself in the ways you want a partner to show up for you.

You show affection by helping, being supportive, being there for the people that you love in small, meaningful ways. Tap into this thoughtful side of you, even if your person hasn’t entered your life yet.

Cultivate an appreciation for the small joys in life. Spend time in nature, practice mindfulness, find beauty in simplicity. Focus on the beauty of everyday moments.

Be PICKY! This selectiveness is a strength. Take your time choosing the right partner for you. Be thoughtful & mindful about who you let in your life.

Focus on your own self-development. Perfect your craft, take care of your wellbeing, lean into your desire to better yourself.

Work on self-acceptance and letting go of the need for perfection. Allow yourself to make mistakes and embrace the messiness of life. When you show that you’re okay with imperfection, you’ll attract partners who feel comfortable being their authentic selves with you.

Practice clear and thoughtful communication. Focus on maintaining open lines of communication. Cultivate honest and constructive conversations.

Take time to declutter and organize your living space. Create a peaceful, functional environment that makes you feel grounded and calm. Let your personal space reflect your sense of order.

LIBRA VENUS/7TH HOUSE

Make others feel comfortable, appreciated and at ease in your presence. Show your thoughtfulness–whether it's offering to pay for a meal or making sure the scales are balanced between you and your partner, you attract others by showing that you believe in fairness and mutual respect.

Focus on cultivating balance in all areas of your life (finances, career, friendships, self-care).

Lean into your grace, politeness, diplomatic nature, allow your natural charm to shine. This is what makes you magnetic.

Spend time cultivating harmony in your day-to-day life. This could mean balancing work and relaxation, making time for creative pursuits, or improving your home environment to make it more peaceful. When you’re living in balance, love flows more easily into your life.

Engage in activities that bring out your romantic side. Write, create art, enjoying romantic movies or books. Nurture this part of yourself.

Prioritize beauty, aesthetics and mental connection. Surround yourself by elegance, beautiful experiences. Allow your appreciation for beauty to guide you. Spoil yourself.

Engage in any creative hobbies. Decorate your space. Cultivate your personal style. Express and find beauty in your everyday life.

Be mindful of how balanced your interactions are with potential partners. Focus on finding someone who is willing to give as much as they receive, and who values fairness in the relationship.

Practice asserting your needs without fear of upsetting others. When you have strong boundaries, you’re more likely to attract partners who respect you and value your emotional wellbeing.

Engage in social and intellectual activities where you can meet like-minded people. Mental stimulation is key for you (air sign).

SCORPIO VENUS/7TH HOUSE

Lean into the slow-burn type of love stories. Don’t open up to just anyone, keep your emotions close to your chest–show your vulnerability to people who deserve it.

Do the inner work. Confront your shadows and fears. You’ll find someone who’s just as ready to dive deep with you.

Channel your intensity and passion into hobbies, personal development or creative work.

Prioritize quality over quantity in your dating life. Take your time getting to know people who are emotionally available and interested in building a deep connection.

Practice being emotionally vulnerable in safe spaces. Acknowledge your fears of getting hurt but understand that vulnerability is a necessary part of deep love. To attract lasting love, you must embrace it.

Work on healing any past wounds related to trust and betrayal. Reflect on what trust means to you and what you need from a partner to feel secure. You don’t just need to learn how to trust other people, but also in yourself and your ability to navigate relationships.

Balance intensity with lightheartedness. Love doesn’t always have to be serious and heavy. Focus on enjoying the lighter moments, engage in activities that make you laugh, spend time with friends, find joy in the little things.

Be intentional about the people you spend time with. Walk away from connections that don’t align with your values or emotional needs. Invest in people who want to build something real.

Focus on cultivating self-confidence and embracing your inner power. When you feel empowered and grounded in who you are, others will naturally be drawn to your magnetic energy.

SAGITTARIUS VENUS/7TH HOUSE

Seek new experiences, even if you have to pursue them alone for a while.  Take yourself on adventures, big or small. Travel to new places, try new hobbies, step out of your comfort zone in any way you know of! To attract love, lean into this love for adventure and prioritize it in your life.

Your excitement for life is contagious, so lean into it. Be your spontaneous self. Engage in activities that make you feel happy and fulfilled. When you radiate positivity, you’ll naturally attract people who are excited to share your adventures and optimism with you.

Dive into deep conversations about life’s questions. Share your thoughts and feelings without fear of losing your independence. To attract lasting love, it’s important to balance your need for space with vulnerability and emotional connection.

Don’t restrict yourself to dating within a narrow framework. Meet new people through social events, groups, or activities that interest you, and don’t be afraid to step outside your comfort zone. The more open you are to new experiences, the better. Let go of rigid plans or expectations for how love will unfold.

Focus on maintaining your independence and pursuing your own passions. This will naturally attract partners who respect your need for space and autonomy, rather than those who want to control or confine you.

Join groups or attend events where learning and personal growth are at the center. Expand your mind, learn something new everyday. Invest in books, courses, intellectual growth, meaningful conversations.

Reflect on your relationship ideals and be clear about what you truly want. Don’t compromise on core values just to be in a relationship. Stay true to your vision of love.

Actively pursue your growth. You thrive on self-improvement. Set personal goals—like learning a new language, traveling to new places, exploring different philosophies. When you’re focused on becoming the best version of yourself, you’ll naturally attract someone who is on a similar journey.

CAPRICORN VENUS/7TH HOUSE

When people see how grounded, reliable, and responsible you are, they can’t help but be drawn to you.

Show off your success, but in a way that highlights your willingness to share it with your partner. Show that you’re willing to invest in a partnership, either financially or emotionally.

Invest time in your personal and professional growth first. Work on building a strong sense of self and achieving your goals, whether they’re related to career, health, or personal development.

Don’t feel pressured to rush into relationships. Take your time getting to know new people, focusing on forming a strong friendship first. Allow connections to develop naturally.

Remember that emotional connection is just as vital as financial and material security in a relationship. Allow yourself to be vulnerable & to open up. Start by sharing your feelings, dreams, concerns, even if it feels uncomfortable at first.

Set high standards, but be open to imperfections. Stay open to the idea that your partner may not check every box on your list—but that doesn’t mean they aren’t right for you. Love is about finding someone who grows with you, not someone who meets every ideal from the start.

Nurture your existing relationships by being consistent and reliable. Your loyalty will naturally attract people who value the same qualities in a partner.

Take time to clarify your long-term goals, both personally and professionally. When dating, look for partners who share similar values and visions for the future. Be open about what you want out of life, and don’t be afraid to walk away from relationships that don’t align with your ambitions.

AQUARIUS VENUS/7TH HOUSE:

• Own your quirks, whether it be your fashion sense, perspectives, beliefs, visions or originality. That’s how you’ll attract someone who loves you for exactly who you are.

• Embrace your need for space and freedom. Practice enjoying your independence while cultivating self-love. Travel solo, pursue your hobbies, and focus on personal growth.

• Lean into the mental stimulation of a connection, but also keep yourself mentally engaged by pursuing your goals and hobbies.

• Invest your time in activities and communities that align with your passions, surround yourself with like-minded individuals.

• Cultivate your intellectual connections. Expand your knowledge and share your ideas with other people. You could also start new projects, learn a new skill or dive into topics that fascinate you to increase your magnetism.

• Value friendships as the foundation for love. Invest in the people that you already know, cultivate strong platonic connections. Explore group activities and social events that bring people together. When you focus on friendship, love may arise in an unexpected, natural way.

• Take the pressure off finding “the one” or fitting into traditional relationship molds. Instead, explore new ways of connecting with others, and allow yourself the freedom to redefine what love looks like for you.

• Practice vulnerability, even in small ways. It’s okay to let your guard down and share your feelings with trusted friends or through creative expression. When you allow yourself to be emotionally open, you’re more likely to attract someone who sees and appreciates the real you.

• Push yourself out of your comfort zone by trying new activities or exploring new social circles. Attend events where you can meet people with different perspectives and backgrounds. Love might come when you’re busy discovering new parts of yourself and the world around you.

PISCES VENUS/7TH HOUSE

You attract people through your softness, your empathy, and your creative soul. 

When you’re open about your creative, spiritual, and emotional sides, you become irresistible.

Engage in deep, soulful conversations, talk about the meaning of life, or share your love for art, music, and beauty. 

Express your love in meaningful ways, such as writing letters, creating curated playlists for your love interest, creating a drawing/painting for them, etc. 

Show your caring nature without being afraid of vulnerability. Let people see the compassionate side of you. 

Set healthy boundaries and avoid unbalanced relationships–protect your energy. Learn to say no when you need space so that your emotional resources are not drained.

Stay in touch with your emotions, practice emotional awareness through journaling, therapy, yoga, etc.

Romanticize your life, find beauty even in the simplest moments. Turn everyday moments into something magical and meaningful. Create romantic experiences for yourself, lead with your natural ability to make things special.

Release your emotional baggage. Don’t carry unresolved feelings or unrealistic fantasies into your relationships. Process your emotions to clear the path for love.

Trust your intuition and be compassionate with yourself. Love finds you when you’re in tune with your inner world.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Thank you for taking the time to read my post! Your curiosity & engagement mean the world to me. I hope you not only found it enjoyable but also enriching for your astrological knowledge. Your support & interest inspire me to continue sharing insights & information with you. I appreciate you immensely. • 🕸️ JOIN MY PATREON for exquisite & in-depth astrology content. You'll also receive a free mini reading upon joining. :)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[clawsdevour]

welcome home

wc: 2.3k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, kageyama x reader, smut, hc that kags likes tits, fingering, creampie, not proofread

. ᝰ˚ ༘

Home alone in the kitchen making yourself a small midnight snack. The ambient lighting is more silent than the echoing noises of your shuffling. Washing your hands after a quick bite of your meal, you pause for a second.

Was that a creaking sound? 

Staring in the direction it came from, the front door of your house. Followed by the sound of keys jingling as you watched the doorknob twist and turn open. Upon entrance, you see your husband Kageyama Tobio back home from his business trip due to his volleyball career.

His head lifting up from his suitcase, his cold beady gaze softens when he sees that you’re still up.

“Tobio.. Welcome home!” dropping the cloth you dried your hands with, running over to him with open arms. 

Catching you in his warm embrace, his muscular arms tightly squeezing around you to make up for his lack of presence throughout the time he was away. He wasn’t just excited, something down there was too. 

“W-Wait..” the friction as you swayed around in his arms building up his already pent up erection, coming to a sudden halt. 

You didn’t realize until you saw his eyes move lower to look at the hard to miss tent sticking up from his crotch. Averting his eyes to look behind you a bit humiliated that that was his first reaction to coming back home. His stern face starts to heat up, you can’t help but giggle under your breath.

“Bring in the suitcase and take a nice hot shower, love. We’ll get to that later..” using your thumb at his chin, changing the direction of his head to look down at you. Planting an affectionate kiss on his cold but soft lips before heading back to your midnight snacking.

Doing as you said, Kageyama brought in the suitcase to the bedroom to unpack before starting a shower that dissolved all his worries now that you’re under the same roof as him. 

You’re laying under the fluffy covers, waiting for him to walk out as you continue to binge watch a show you watched with him before he left home for work.

The moment he opens the door, the light hitting just right at him, slightly showing you slivers of his toned and rippling body that seemed to get hotter every time you saw it. 

The towel on his waist hung low.. too low to the point it made your mouth part open with a bit of drool about to start dripping down your chin. 

The steamy atmosphere slowly disintegrated from the bathroom into the bedroom air, the particles disappearing in the light. His dark black hair was absolutely drenched and dripping with water while he hand dried it with a separate towel.

It’s been so long, you never get to see him like this anymore. Rubbing your legs under the covers as you started to feel aroused, hoping it’d relieve something. Kageyama’s headed towards you, looking at the TV with the colorful lights reflecting on his freshly damp skin.

“Is this a new episode? Have you been watching it without me?” peering at you from behind. His stern dark blue eyes pierced into you, a subtle smile plastered on his face.

“Mhm.. you took too long to get back home I couldn’t wait anymore,” pouting playfully at him, chuckling as he sat on the end of the bed.

Feeling a sensation on your lower legs through the blanket, looking up you see a hand rubbing them up and down while his eyes are fixated on the screen. 

“Ha. I see how it is,” he blatantly said.

Kicking off the covers, you crawled near to him. Well, more like closer to his broad and toned back and started to softly massaging them. His tender muscular skin in between your fingers that worked like magic, relieving any of his soreness.

“Does this hit the spot?” whispering seductively in his ear through a smirk. His head gradually leaned back in delight, egging you on to go deeper into his tissue.

“Yeah.. it does. Can you go a bit higher?” cooing under his breath as his lashes flutter to a close. 

“Right here?” planting a gentle peck on the crook of his neck. 

“Oh you wanna do this right now?” taking the damp towel off his hair whilst averting his full attention to you in the back. His dark eyes reeked of sin and need that intoxicated the eye contact between you two. 

“Yeah—” cutting you off right as his lips raced towards yours. 

Crashing multiple times before he’s able to slide his tongue into your mouth. Exploring each and every crevice of your being. 

Kageyama’s leading and dominating kiss makes you back up onto the mattress as his stature completely towers upon you, towel somehow still clinging onto his waist as it brushes onto you. 

A warm large palm slithering its way up your dainty tank top as he continued breathlessly making out with your lips. You’re whimpering into the kiss as you start to lose breath. 

Detaching his plump lips from yours, making his way down to nip at the contours of your jaw and neck. His stare still lingering on your skin, watching each and every reaction. 

The water droplets from his wet hair catches onto your hot complexion as Kageyama places down a kiss on every possible area of your skin, almost drowning you in his affection as you straddle his broad bare shoulders to keep yourself afloat.

His fingers caressing your tender breast, pinching and flicking your little nubs as you squirmed in delight. The towel began to release from its grip, his erection hitting the surface of your thigh. 

Breaking away from your fast paced kiss that made you see stars, Kageyama throws your tank top off, leaving it somewhere on the floor. Nipping at your neck, creating red and bright pink marks moving down to your perky nipples. 

Kissing them gently before latching his hot mouth onto you. His warm damp air brushed onto your skin as his heart raced and pounded like crazy. The foreign sensation makes your head all foggy while his tongue continues to play and tease at your delicate little nub.

You didn’t realize when he began reaching his other hand lower, down towards the hem of your thin shorts. His two digits gently pressing on your crotch, finding your slit admist the fabric that concealed it.

“Tobio..” whining to catch his attention.

Kageyama’s dark blue gaze averts to your flushed complexion, instantly going back head level with you just a few inches away from yours.

“Yes, love?” slender long fingers tucking strands of hair behind your ears, his pupils darting everywhere as he inspected your expression.

“Oh, well.. just miss you a lot” pulling him in for a snug hug once more, just half naked this time. Feeling him in nothing made it feel more intimate. 

That was until you felt a hand slide down into your shorts, burning a smoldering heat as it pressed against your panties just right where it was damp. 

“Me too,” he purred. 

Putting space between you two for a brief moment, Kageyama helps you out of your shorts and underwear to keep up the pace as you two exchange more eye contact that begged for physical affection.

“..So wet?” running a hand up your slit, collecting your essence at the tip of his finger.

Biting down on your lower lip as you watched the tent that was just barely covered by his fluffy towel grow in size. Continuing with your antics, Kageyama lowers himself down onto you. His touch rubbing slow and small circles on your wet clit.

The sound of your juices melted with the audios of your sloppy passionate kiss as you whimpered with pleasure. A prodding at the entrance of your cunt, his middle finger slips in. 

Welcoming his digit with a warm clench, you just slightly take a moment to breathe in that fresh air. However, Kageyama’s lips don’t stop moving with all the free reign he has over your nudr and vulnerable body.

His plump lips move everywhere, kissing every crevice he may have missed from earlier. Adding in another finger, pumping them in and out of your sopping cunt at a steady and bearable rhythm. When Kageyama started scissoring, and curling his fingers inside you, was what made you start gripping onto his shoulders for dear life trying to receive him, nails starting to create crescent marks in his tender muscles as if imprinting your marks on him.

“S-So good..” you sobbed in his ear amongst the squelching and heated atmosphere that caught onto your skin. 

The pace of his plunging fingers increase to fulfill your orgasm, going knuckle deep. It felt like heaps of liquid dripped and pooled in the depths of your nether regions, inching you and edging you on. 

“Fuck ..Tobio ugh!!” The more he jammed his slender but thick fingers inside out, the more your nails clawed into him to stabilize your trembling body. 

Panting out all the air in your lungs the moment you creamed all over his digits. Watching as he slid them out to taste your orgasm on his tongue as a way to clean them off.

“You okay?” using his hand to caress your cheek, pressing a delicate kiss on your forehead. 

“Yeah, just put it inn.. I miss you being inside me” you whimper to him with your half lidded eyes, playing with his wet locs of hair that drew towards you from above.

“M’kay, don’t whine if you can’t handle it.”

Lining himself up at your entrance, slithering through your drenched folds beforehand to collect your fluids on his girth. Kageyama’s warm and relaxed strokes drawing your patience thin.

Reaching a hand down to guide his hands to your entrance with a look of passion written all over your face. His tip enters your aching cunt as you squirm in discomfort, the more he inched the more it felt like as if he’s splitting you open in two. 

“Does it hurt? Come here,” nodding while you got into his lap, tears starting to form in your eyes the more you tried to blink them away. 

Kageyama’s big arms hugged you tight as your walls gradually slid down and gripped onto his cock. Your walls expand to take his shape, keeping his dick warm and compact, almost like he’s about to explode inside, while he rewards you with small affectionate pecks till you feel better. 

“Sorry.. I guess it’s been a while,” he heard between sniffles. 

His subtle smile as he glances down at your glossy eyes makes you know that you have all the time in the world whenever you’re with him. 

“It’s okay. Don’t rush it if it hurts babe.”

Once you’ve situated his length nested inside your tight cunt, you’ve begun just to slowly grind your hips with his. However, not fully adjusted. Groaning in pain, continuing to have your walls mold to his cock while his hands linger around your bare waist inching lower to your ass. 

Making the first move, you slowly rose and dropped yourself onto him. The pleasure started to wash over the pain when you realized he’s starting to hit your deeper and stimulating areas that couldn’t be reached earlier in this position. 

His hands grasp onto your hips to support you as you continue to go at your own leisurely pace to get used to his dick once more. His husky moans suppressed under his breath, cursing to himself in the process as he loses himself in your addictive sensation. 

“You’re doing good, love” bringing a hand to the front to rub your swollen clit as you mumble out sweet, almost melodic moans that rang in his ears.

Calling out his name in between sobs of joy, he can’t take it anymore. Kageyama just wants to fuck you till your out cold and quivering from pleasure. 

Thrusting with all his might and stopping you in your tracks. Your body quaked as he reached further and into your nether regions, stimulating your g-spot multiple times. 

He’s cunningly snickering under his breath watching you become a moaning mess on top of him. Your breasts that dangled and bounced in front of him with each pounding were too tempting to not tease and suck on. 

The foreign sensation making its way back onto your body, licking you up and down making your chest feel weird in a content way. Sucking onto your perky plump nipple, Kageyama’s tongue wrapping around the nub with intent to overstimulate you with satisfaction. 

“Wait, Love. Might, cum–”

Crying out one last moan of joy while he continues to penetrate deep into your incoming orgasm at intensive and quick speed, your vision turns white when you feel a spurt of warm liquid ooze into your swollen red cunt. His stuttering words coming to an end when all you could hear is his gasps.

Clenching your plush walls around Kageyama, a rim of white froth built up on the base of his cock when he lifts you up by ur ass. Grasping all his cum mixed with your wet juices and orgasm that started to trickle out of your pussy. 

Panting as your exhausted sweaty body drifts down catching onto his muscular but tender chest that heaved up and down to catch his breath. His hands are giving you the tightest of tight hugs despite both of you being covered in a sheen layer of sweat and a mix of your essences. 

“Would’ve gone easier on you if I hadn’t been away for so long.”

masterlist here

[astrow0rldx]

PAC TAROT: Shadow Work

Piles read left to right. Really use your intuition for which one calls to you to read. This Reading will be a little different, because it's ai generated. But hear me out, it's extremely accurate. I pull the tarot cards, and questions and it makes a story using automatic creative writing skills. In the story format it should help understand better.

Pile One

You present yourself as someone grounded and nurturing, someone who has it all together—capable, reliable, and a provider of stability. You wear this mask of self-sufficiency with grace, offering support and care to those around you. There’s a warmth to how you handle life, as if you’re always the one others can lean on. Yet, beneath this persona, there’s a quiet dissatisfaction, an emotional numbness that you don’t let others see. You feel disconnected, like something essential is missing, but you avoid acknowledging it, preferring to maintain the image of having everything under control.

Deep down, there’s a fear of rejection and abandonment that colors how you see yourself and your place in the world. This fear stems from past experiences where you felt left out or unworthy, perhaps from moments when you reached out for support and were met with coldness or lack. That sense of being shut out has led you to withdraw emotionally, burying your desires and vulnerabilities under layers of self-protection. However, this hidden wound shapes how you move through the world—it keeps you from fully expressing the vibrant, fiery side of yourself, the part of you that is bold, passionate, and fearless. While you project strength, this shadow lingers in the background, holding you back from fully owning your power.

Your shadow comes to the surface when you’re confronted by people or situations that reflect confidence and control, especially when they embody traits you’ve repressed. These encounters stir something inside you, triggering internal conflict as your shadow self clashes with the persona you’ve carefully built. The lesson in this struggle is to reconnect with your emotional core, to allow yourself to feel deeply and openly once again. Healing comes through embracing the tension, acknowledging that inner battles are a part of your growth. By working through this, you’ll move toward a more patient and nurturing relationship with yourself, where you invest in long-term growth and understand that healing is a process—one that requires steady effort and care.

Pile Two

She finds herself in a state of suspension, caught between holding onto control and surrendering to the unknown. Outwardly, she appears strong, composed, and authoritative, someone who takes charge with ease and thrives in an orderly world. She presents herself as the one in control, the one who always knows what to do. However, beneath this confident exterior, she’s struggling with uncertainty. She feels stuck, as if the answers she’s searching for are just out of reach, and in order to find them, she knows she must let go of the rigid expectations she’s placed on herself. She wears the mask of authority, but behind it, she is deeply uncertain, torn between what she knows and what she longs to discover.

At her core, she craves connection—a relationship where she can feel deeply understood and loved. There's a romantic within her, yearning for a bond that feels effortless and sincere, as if she’s waiting for that perfect emotional partnership. But she’s haunted by past disappointments, memories of love that didn’t turn out the way she hoped. This loss lingers, making her cautious about trusting her heart again. She often revisits those past moments of grief, wondering what went wrong and fearing that opening herself up to love again will lead to more heartbreak. As much as she wants love, the weight of her emotional past makes her guard her feelings, holding back from diving fully into new connections.

Her fears and vulnerabilities surface when emotions become overwhelming, or when she’s faced with situations that push her to move too fast. In those moments, she becomes protective, holding onto her feelings and resources tightly, afraid of losing control or being vulnerable. Her instinct is to cling to what she knows, but there’s also a deeper truth: her dreams and fantasies about what could be are not just idle thoughts. They reflect her true desires, the part of her that longs to break free from her hesitation and embrace all the possibilities that life offers. To heal, she needs to release the fear of losing control, to trust that even if things are uncertain, the journey ahead is rich with opportunities—ones she’s fully capable of seizing, if only she lets go.

Pile Three

She is moving through a period of transition, quietly distancing herself from past conflicts and emotional turbulence. Her journey, both literal and metaphorical, is one of seeking peace and clarity after enduring a storm. On the outside, she may seem calm, as though she’s finally found her direction, but the waters behind her are still unsettled. Internally, she is recovering from struggles, possibly with others or even within herself. The tension and discord she’s left behind still echo in her thoughts, making it difficult for her to fully let go. While she appears to be progressing, there is a quiet battle inside her, as if she’s constantly bracing for the next challenge.

Her internal struggle centers on patience and the need to balance her desires with the reality of what she’s building. She has invested time and energy into something—perhaps a relationship, a career, or personal growth—and now she waits, unsure of the outcome. There's a restlessness beneath her calm exterior, a feeling of competition, either with herself or with others. She yearns for stability and celebration, for a moment when she can finally relax and feel secure, but she is deeply aware that the foundation she’s working on still needs time to solidify. Emotionally, she is tied to the idea of love and partnership, but her past battles have made her wary. Love feels both close and distant, like something she craves but is cautious about fully embracing.

Her emotional depth runs deep, though she doesn’t always show it. She is someone who feels intensely, yet she’s learned to control and temper her feelings. When her emotions rise, they are powerful, but she channels them carefully, maintaining a composed exterior. Her greatest strength lies in her intuition. She often knows more than she lets on, reading situations and people with a subtle, almost mystical understanding. But this also makes her guarded, as if she’s protecting herself from being hurt again. She’s been through many trials, and though she’s weary, she remains resilient. Her journey is far from over, and while the battles she’s faced have left her cautious, they have also made her wiser. She stands ready to move forward, but she knows the path ahead will require both patience and strength.

[requiemforthepoets]

hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?

tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43

PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader

SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n

As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.

However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.

Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.

When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.

“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”

You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.

After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.

When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.

“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”

He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”

His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.

You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”

Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”

You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.

“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”

Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”

You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”

He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”

Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.

You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.

Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”

Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”

You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”

“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”

Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”

As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.

After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.

You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.

“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”

He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.

Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.

You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.

[dee-writes-anime]

God, Do Anything But Leave Me

FEATURING Toji Fushiguro x Reader

SUMMARY Toji just can't live without you.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst to fluff, talk of Toji's dead wife, mentions little Megumi, arguments, reader storms out

AUTHORS NOTE I've been absent, but never fear! I am back from my week-long trip with some Toji goods just for yall ;)

The apartment was unnervingly quiet, the ticking of the clock loud in the stillness. You stood by the window, staring at the night, your reflection faint against the glass. The air between you and Toji felt heavy, like a storm waiting to break. He sat on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, eyes burning into your back. It was unbearable—the silence, the weight of everything left unsaid, everything you were too scared to voice until now.

Finally, the tension snapped, his gravelly voice cutting through the air like a blade. “You’re acting weird. What’s going on with you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, willing the knot in your throat to loosen. It felt like you were on the edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t take back once it started. But there was no stopping it now.

“It’s nothing.” You lied, your voice brittle.

His eyes narrowed, his irritation creeping in. “Don’t give me that bullshit. It’s not nothing. Talk.”

The demand in his voice struck a nerve. He always spoke like that—rough, commanding. But tonight, it grated on you, fueling the fire already burning in your chest. You turned around, fists clenched at your sides, your heart pounding as you faced him.

“You really want me to talk? Fine.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “It’s about her.”

The look on his face darkened immediately. He didn’t need to ask who. His ex-wife—Megumi’s mother. The woman who had been a permanent shadow in your relationship, even though she was long gone.

Toji straightened, his jaw tightening. “What about her?”

“You loved her, Toji. You had a life with her. You had a family. I get that,” you said, your voice trembling but growing louder with each word. “But what am I supposed to do with that? How am I supposed to be okay knowing that no matter what I do, I’ll never be her?”

Toji stood up abruptly, the motion abrupt, his looming presence now swallowing up the small room. “You’re not her. You don’t need to be her. I don’t understand what the hell this is about.”

“You don’t understand?” You let out a bitter laugh, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. “Toji, you barely talk about her, but she’s always there! You act like you’ve moved on, but I know you haven’t. How could you?”

He crossed the room in two steps, stopping just in front of you, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl. “She’s dead. What do you want me to say? It’s done.”

“You want me to believe that?” You couldn’t stop the tears now, your emotions spilling out uncontrollably. “You had a child with her, Toji. You built a life together, and I know you loved her. I feel like I’m just—just filling in the gaps where she left. Like I’ll never be enough for you.”

Toji's jaw clenched, and his eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something raw and wounded. “You think this is about her? You think I’m still hung up on that?”

“I don’t think. I know!” You shouted, the dam inside you finally breaking. “You never talk about her. It’s like you’ve buried everything, and I’m supposed to just accept that? Like it doesn’t affect you?”

He stepped closer, his voice rough and sharp. “You think I want to drag up old shit all the time? You think I want to live in the past?”

“Maybe you don’t want to live in it, but you haven’t left it behind, Toji!” You were yelling now, voice breaking as the words you had swallowed for so long poured out. “Every time I see you with Megumi, I wonder if you’re thinking about her. I wonder if you look at me and wish I was her.”

Toji’s expression hardened, the tension between you snapping like a taut wire. “That’s bullshit, and you know it,” he growled, his frustration boiling over. “I don’t compare you to her. You’re the one doing that.”

“Because I have to!” Your voice cracked with the weight of your confession. “I’m trying so hard to be enough for you, but it never feels like I can be. You loved her, Toji. You had a child with her, and she’s gone. How can I ever compete with that?”

Toji’s fists clenched at his sides, his breathing heavy, like he was fighting to keep his emotions in check. “You’re not competing with anyone. I’m with you because I want to be with you, not because I’m comparing you to a ghost.”

“But that’s what it feels like!” Your voice trembled, breaking under the weight of your emotions. “You might not say it, but it’s there. It’s always there.”

His eyes flashed with anger, his patience finally worn thin. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he growled, stepping closer, towering over you. “You think I haven’t moved on? You think I don’t care about you? After everything we’ve been through, you’re still hung up on this?”

His words stung, each one like a slap to the face, and the tears came faster, slipping down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath. “I can’t do this, Toji,” you whispered, your voice broken. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with this. With you not talking, with you shutting me out every time something hard comes up. I can’t compete with someone you lost, someone you loved so much you had a child with her.”

Toji’s eyes darkened further, his lips curling in frustration, but beneath the anger, you saw the flicker of something else—hurt, guilt, maybe even regret. But it didn’t matter. You were too far gone now, the pain too sharp, the cracks in your heart too deep.

“Where the hell are you going with this?” he demanded, his voice rough.

“I’m leaving.” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Toji’s face twisted, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “What?”

“I need to go,” you said, your voice trembling, hands shaking as you took a step back. “I can’t… I need space, Toji. I can’t breathe in here. I can’t breathe around all these memories, around the weight of everything you’ve lost.”

For a moment, you thought he might stop you. His jaw tightened, and he took a step forward, but then he stopped himself. His fists remained at his sides, clenched tightly, his breathing ragged as he stared at you.

“And what the hell am I supposed to do?” he asked, voice harsh but laced with something raw, almost pleading. “You just gonna walk out?”

You looked at him, the man you loved, the man you had tried so hard to reach, and for the first time, you saw the distance between you, the gulf that had been widening for far too long.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “But I can’t stay here. Not like this.”

Without another word, you turned and grabbed your coat from the hook by the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you stepped into the hallway. Behind you, Toji stood frozen, his shadow looming large against the doorframe.

The door clicked shut behind you, the cold hallway wrapping around you like a suffocating embrace. Your steps were shaky, tears blurring your vision as you moved down the stairs. Each breath felt heavier than the last, your chest tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. You couldn’t stay in that apartment, surrounded by the memories that weren’t yours, by the ghosts of a life Toji once had and lost. You needed space, air, something to stop the overwhelming ache in your heart.

But behind you, in that apartment you had just left, Toji stood frozen in place. His fists were still clenched, knuckles white as he stared at the door you had walked through. The sound of it shutting echoed in his head, each second that passed making it feel more final. You were leaving—leaving him—and the reality of that hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath, running a hand through his dark hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. He could feel the anger boiling up again, the sharp edge of his temper threatening to snap. But beneath that, something far more dangerous stirred—panic.

He paced, his heart pounding, each beat like a hammer driving home the gravity of the situation. You were gone, and he was standing here, helpless, watching everything slip through his fingers. The image of you walking away felt like a flashback to another time—another loss.

His breath hitched as a memory, long buried, surfaced. His wife—Megumi’s mother. He had lost her too, just after their son was born. The pain of that loss had carved out a piece of his soul, left him hollow in ways he never wanted to admit. But even in his grief, he had survived. He had kept going, if only for his son’s sake. He had learned to live with that emptiness, that hole in his chest. But this—losing you—was something he couldn’t live through.

Not again. Not like this.

Toji swore under his breath, grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch as he stormed out the door. His footsteps were heavy, echoing down the stairwell as he followed you, his mind racing, his chest tight with emotions he hadn’t fully processed until now.

He spotted you just outside, a few steps ahead, your form hunched over as you wrapped your arms around yourself, as if trying to keep the world out. His heart twisted at the sight, a surge of something—guilt, fear, desperation—forcing him to move faster.

“Wait!” His voice cut through the cool night air, rough and urgent, his footsteps pounding against the pavement as he caught up to you.

You froze at the sound of his voice, your heart skipping a beat. But you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. The tears were still streaming down your face, and you weren’t ready for another fight. Not now, not like this.

“Please,” Toji’s voice cracked as he reached you, his hand gripping your arm, not rough but firm, as though he was terrified you might disappear if he let go. “Don’t go.”

His breath was ragged, uneven, and when you finally turned to face him, you saw something in his eyes that you hadn’t expected—fear. Real, raw fear.

“Toji, I…” Your voice faltered, but the tears kept coming, the pain still too fresh. “I can’t do this. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay.”

“I’m not asking you to pretend,” he rasped, his voice strained in a way that you rarely heard from him. “I just—fuck, I can’t lose you. Not you.”

The words hit you hard, and you blinked through your tears, staring at him as his expression shifted—cracked, in a way you had never seen before. Toji Fushiguro, the man who always seemed unshakable, was on the edge of breaking, and it terrified you.

“You don’t understand,” you whispered, shaking your head, your voice thick with emotion. “You’ll be fine. You lost her, and you—”

Toji’s grip tightened, not painfully, but enough to ground you both. “No. I survived losing her, but that’s it. I survived. I didn’t live. I didn’t feel anything after that except for Megumi. It was like everything inside me was just—” He paused, his voice catching as he struggled to find the right words, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the intensity of it all. “It was like a part of me died with her. But you…”

His voice softened, the roughness giving way to something much more vulnerable, something he wasn’t used to letting out. “You made me feel like I was alive again. Like I could actually breathe.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of your emotions. You had never seen him like this—so raw, so open. It was as if the walls he had built around himself for years were crumbling before your eyes.

“I don’t know how to be good at this,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes fixed on yours. “I don’t know how to talk about this shit, about her. But you… You’re not in her shadow. You never were. I didn’t choose you to replace her. I chose you because I need you. Because I—fuck.” He closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he fought to keep control. “I need you. And I’m not strong enough to lose you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning, with all the pain he had been carrying for so long.

You swallowed hard, the tears still falling but the sharp edge of your hurt beginning to dull as his words sank in. “Toji, I…” You faltered, your heart aching with how much this moment hurt, but how much you wanted to believe him, to believe that this could be different, that you weren’t just a stand-in for someone he had lost.

He stepped closer, his hand moving to your cheek, brushing a tear away with a gentleness that belied the storm in his eyes. “I lost her, and it hurt. It tore me apart. But I kept living. I had to. For Megumi. For me.” He paused, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, his voice lowering to a whisper. “But if I lose you, I don’t think I can come back from that.”

Your chest tightened, a sob escaping your throat as his words wrapped around your heart. You could feel the weight of his emotions in every word, in the way his hand trembled slightly against your skin.

You wanted to be angry. You wanted to cling to the pain, to the hurt that had driven you to walk out in the first place. But standing here, with Toji looking at you like you were the most important thing in his world, the walls you had built around your heart started to crumble.

“Toji, I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m scared I’ll never be enough.”

He shook his head, his grip on you tightening as though he could somehow hold you together with just his hands. “You’re enough. You’ve always been enough. I’m the one who’s not enough. But I’m trying. I’m trying because I can’t lose you. Not after everything. Not when you’re the one thing keeping me from falling apart.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. There was so much pain here, so much history, but there was also something else—a chance, a fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be different.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice raw and pleading. “Don’t leave me.”

[runninriot]

Only Me

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

week 3 prompts: rough, aftercare | rated: E | wc: 2.737 | tags: sub Eddie Munson, mean dom Steve Harrington, restraints, nipple clamps, impact play, mild degradation kink, established relationship | also on ao3

  “Please! You promised!”

Eddie’s eyes are wet with unshed tears, wide and pleading and so goddamn pretty. He always is when he’s like that. When he’s all tied up and helpless, squirming and writhing. Uselessly tugging at the restraints keeping his arms above his head, beautifully exposed, defenceless and at Steve's mercy.

It’s a sight Steve will never get sick of, will never not feast on – especially when his eyes catch all the signs of love he left on pale skin, all the marks, the claims, the trails of colour painting his boyfriend’s body.

Lust reflecting back at him from Eddie’s strained neck that’s covered in bruises, angry red lines revealing where Steve dragged his nails a little too rough over sensitive skin, remains of a greedy mouth baring its teeth – Steve’s art scattered all over this bare perfection in front of him.

Eddie is everything he never thought he could have, submissively offering himself to be used in every way he knows they both enjoy when they indulge in this dissolute act of love.

It’s his favourite game.

   “Don’t think you’ve earned it, yet,” Steve answers his boyfriend’s feeble attempt to make him relent, to give what he’s so desperate for.

Later, not now. Steve isn’t done playing his wicked games and he knows Eddie can take some more; it would be such a waste to skip this part just because Eddie is a little cock slut, needy for Steve’s dick to stuff him and fill him up.

Eddie jerks when Steve pulls at the clamps biting into his nipples, giving each side a rough tug that must send painful ripples of electric shocks through his body.

   “Ow! Oh fuck, Steve! Please, I can’t-“

His voice cracks, words dissolving into an unintelligible sequence of pitiful sounds when Steve grants himself permission to pull again, harder this time.

   “Did you say something? Couldn’t hear you over your pathetic whining.”

It’s his second favourite part of the game, to provoke and be mean, to remind Eddie who’s in charge and who isn’t, let the little Devil inside him take the lead.

   “Keep complaining and I won’t give you anything,” Steve warns and Eddie tries to comply but seems unable to swallow the needy whimpers that break through his parted lips.

   “I’ll give you what you need. I always take care of you, don’t I?”

Eddie nods weakly.

   “Use your words, baby.”

Steve’s thumbs and fingers linger on either side of the clamps, not pinching, not pulling, just resting there as a silent threat Eddie understands wordlessly.

   “A-always. You always take care of me,” he stammers, voice weak but with certainty in his words because he knows Steve will never not give him what he needs.

It’s wonderful, bad for his already too big ego but a treat nonetheless. To hold such power over someone else makes him feel superior, godlike almost, with the way Eddie bows to him. Perfectly obedient, unless he’s being a brat but even then, Steve never loses the upper hand, knows exactly what to say and do, how to create a scene that fulfills both their needs.

   “Exactly. And that’s why you’re going to stop begging like a needy little whore and let me take my time with you.”

Careful, almost gentle compared to his earlier actions, Steve relieves Eddie from the torment, giving the overstimulated nerves in his nipples a moment to relax, letting him shiver through the lingering pain just long enough for him to catch his breath before he continues the teasing torture.

It’s too inviting, the sight of reddened skin and swollen flesh, so he gives into his sadistic nature and lets his thumbs rub in pretend-soothing circles around the sensitive area.

Eddie cries out for Steve to stop but he doesn’t mean it, not really – he knows what to say when he needs Steve to slow down. So, Steve keeps going unfazed, closing his mouth around one of the hardened buds to suck at it, greedy and rough, until Eddie’s moans turn to soft, defeated little whimpers.

   “Sorry, baby,” Steve says, not feeling sorry at all.

His lips curl into a wicked grin when he notices the tear streaks on Eddie’s face and it fills him with a twisted sense of pride that he’s the one responsible for making his boyfriend cry.

It’s paradox. Steve loves Eddie with all his heart, would never hurt him, wants nothing more than to see him smile. But this right here is different, those tears are good tears, this is the good kind of pain, the one that makes Eddie beg for more.

And beg he does, insistent and impatient, needs something inside to fill the emptiness, his loose hole clenching around nothing now that the plug they’ve used to open him up lies abandoned on the side of the bed. Steve crawls further up between his thighs, can’t bite down a mean laugh when he sees Eddie’s eyes widen, probably thinking he’s finally getting what he’s been asking for. He doesn’t, is the thing, all he gets is Steve’s hardness brushing his skin, leaving a trail of slickness on its way when he leans over him, untying the rope around his wrists.

Slowly, he brings Eddie’s arms down, thumbs rubbing over the faint redness he caused by pulling too hard, fighting against the restraints he specifically had asked for. Steve kisses each wrist before he drops them on either side of Eddie’s body.

   “Kiss me,” he demands, and Eddie complies instantly, lifts his head to capture Steve’s lips with his own.

The kiss is deep but slow, some calm before a storm only Steve knows is coming.

   “Turn around,” Steve commands when they part, voice stern and eyes not leaving Eddie’s, who looks at him with a mix of confused frustration and thrilling excitement.

On his hands and knees, Eddie offers a sight that makes Steve’s cock throb, makes it hard to resist the urge to push inside. To take without warning and finally give in to Eddie’s pleas.

Not yet, though. Eddie’s going to have to earn it. And so does Steve.

The thing about playing with Eddie like this, about taunting him by making him wait and beg and then wait some more, is that Steve, too, had to learn patience and how to maintain control over his own body’s reactions. Not wanting to lose himself too early, not wanting to miss out on the reward of falling together.

Steve places both hands on Eddie’s hips, feeling just a little bit bad for making it seem as if he’s aligning himself with his boyfriend’s ass, hole gaping and ready to take him.

   “Will you fuck me, please?”

Eddie opens his legs some more, hips swaying in Steve’s hold – he’s getting impatient, desperate to be filled.

   “No.” It’s such a small word, two letters that hold so much power because it’s all Steve has to say to make Eddie lose his mind.

Before he can complain, Steve’s hands slide down, grabbing his ass with both hands, fingernails digging into tender flesh and burning skin, digging deep enough to leave marks before letting go completely

Eddie cries out a weak little ‘Oh, fuck!’, voice trembling with anticipation. He knows what’s coming, knows how Steve will make him earn his right to be fucked.

   “Are you gonna be my good little whore?” Steve asks and Eddie answers with a nod and a whimper as he braces himself for what’s to come, no doubt already starting to become headless, always getting a little dumb when Steve degrades him with words.

When he calls him a slut. A toy. A stupid, cock-drunk mess.

Baby or whore, it doesn’t really matter what he calls him; Eddie can be both and Steve can say either with love – they’re interchangeable, mean the same thing in the language they share like a secret code.

The first contact of Steve’s palm with Eddie’s ass is barely more than a hard tap, nothing to really cause pain, only to slightly warm up his cheek. So does the second and third, but before Eddie can ask for more, Steve’s hand sinks down again with a loud smack, making rosy colour bloom on pale skin.

   “Ah! Yes, yes fuck, more please!”

One, two, three, four, five more slaps, each one harder than the one before, Steve’s hand striking down in the rhythm to Eddie’s cries, every hit drawing out another beautiful sound that goes straight to his own dick.

Steve loses count but the angry red colour in the shape of his hands is spurring him on to keep going until Eddie’s moans turn into sobbing.

   “What’s wrong, baby? D’you need me to stop? Or do you want me to go harder? Your choice.” Steve grins, tongue licking over his teeth like a hungry hyena, excitement pulsing in his lower half because he already knows what Eddie’s answer will be.

   “H-harder. Please, Steve. Need it.”

Always so polite, his perfect boy.

How could Steve resist when he’s asking so nicely?

Only when Eddie’s arms give up and he falls face-first into the mattress, does Steve stop. He marvels at the art he created on his boyfriend’s skin, red and hot, burning under his fingertips as he lets them trail over soon-to-be bruises he’ll have to tend to later.

He lifts Eddie’s weakened body up, holds him by his hips and then, finally, pushes the swollen, purple tip of his cock into the waiting heat that’s been yearning to be filled for so long.

Eddie’s back arches beautifully when Steve thrusts deeper, doesn’t need to hold back, not when Eddie is so open and willing to let him in.

And then he fucks him. Hips snapping hard against Eddie’s sore ass, pulling cry after moan after pathetic little whimper out of the other man’s throat. They’re both too deep, too far gone already, won’t last long, not after building up all this tension and pressure and overwhelming neediness. Ready to fall and come and burst at the seams, lose themselves to each other.

   “You should see yourself. Fuck, baby!” Steve’s eyes are transfixed on the place between his thighs where he watches himself sink deeper, watches Eddie’s body welcome him, swallow him, stretch around him so perfectly. “Taking me so well, so good for me. Ah! So tight! Shit.”

Eddie comes first, cock neglected and untouched, spurts all over himself and the sheets, and the noises he makes are what tips Steve over the edge, spilling his release into the depths of Eddie’s body, shaking apart as he rides out his own orgasm.

He watches the mess he made when he pulls out slowly, watches the trail of his own cum trickling out of Eddie’s sloppy hole, can’t help but to push it back where it belongs, pumping two fingers inside with no resistance where he’d just been buried balls-deep.

Beneath him, Eddie bucks his hips, moaning and panting – Steve knows he’s had enough, knows he would still let him play with him for hours more if Steve insisted.

It’s tempting, his greedy inner Devil already rubbing his hands at the thought. He could plug him, make him keep Steve’s cum inside, could make him suck his spent cock until they’re both hard again.

But there’s always time for that later, tomorrow, the day after – Steve’s not going anywhere and neither is Eddie. They’ve got their whole lives ahead of them, enough years still left to be young and reckless.

Eddie deserves a break, deserves to be loved in a gentler way after being so good, so obedient, so perfect.

Groaning, obviously wrung out and exhausted, sore in all kinds of places, Eddie turns to lie on his back, hissing when his ass hits the sheets.

Steve’s beside him, eyes roaming over his boyfriend’s body, taking in the state of him. Come stains on his belly, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, his legs still slightly trembling, and his mind probably floating somewhere far away – Eddie is a mess in every sense of the word and Steve is about to make it worse. Just a little. Just as a treat for himself before he’s actually going to take care of his sweet boy.

He leans down, parted lips hovering over stained skin, hot breath tickling his boyfriend’s abdomen.

   “Ste-heeve! Stevie, whatcha doing?” Eddie giggles, sounds high or maybe drunk; drunk on Steve, maybe, wouldn’t that be something?

   “Just wanna give back what belongs to you,” he answers vaguely before darting his tongue out.

Eddie squirms, shaking with laughter that turns into a loud moan when Steve’s tongue trails from his pelvis up to his navel, lapping up Eddie’s cum on its way. When he comes back up so he’s face-to-face with the other man, Eddie is already looking at him with wide, curious eyes.

He nods frantically to answer a question Steve didn’t ask and opens his mouth. Steve pushes two fingers over the waiting tongue spilling over his bottom lip, forcing his jaw to open wider before he lets a string of saliva drip from his mouth to Eddie’s, sharing the taste of his own cum with him. It's filthy and beautiful, makes him feel hot all over, regretting the fact that he can't give him more.

   “Good boy,” he teases, tapping Eddie’s cheek with his spit-coated fingers as he watches his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows Steve’s gift obediently.

Eddie’s eyelids flutter shut, expression soft, and Steve seals his lips with a kiss.

   “God, I can’t believe how perfect you are,” Steve’s heart flips when Eddie opens his eyes again, sparkling, dark, and full of adoration and love.

   “So perfect. All for me, only me.”

   “Only you,” Eddie agrees, says it like it’s a promise and Steve feels overcome with selfish satisfaction at the thought of being the only one who’ll ever get to see him like this. The only one to touch him like that. To love him this way.

   “How are you feeling?”

   “Hmm, perfect. Thank you.”

Eddie sounds sleepy, eyelids heavy and hardly staying open. Steve proudly thinks to himself that he must’ve done a real good job tiring him out. But he can’t have Eddie fall asleep like that.

   “Let’s get you in the shower, baby.”

-----

The water is warm and comforting, easing the strain in Eddie’s aching body. Steve doesn’t stop kissing him while he gently scrubs him clean, careful not to hurt him where his skin has already started to change colour.

Steve loves this part, the after, when he gets to worship Eddie’s body with care, soft and slow, different than before but just as wonderful.

Intimacy comes in many forms and although Steve really, really enjoys the rougher side of it, loves to give in to the raw and brute kind of his own desires, he can’t deny that this, here, is even better. To hold an exhausted Eddie in his arms like this, close to his own heart, gently caressing the skin he blemished before, taking care of the bruises and scratch marks, the shapes, and colours Steve left on every part of him, fills him with a different kind of satisfaction.

To be the one allowed to put Eddie back together after tearing him to pieces, is an honour, something Steve cherishes a lot.

When they fall into bed together, naked, and soft, and tired, Steve pulls Eddie close to his chest, whispering love confessions into his hair until Eddie’s breathing calms and he can feel his body sink deeper into the embrace, slowly drifting as sleep takes a hold of him.

His own heart matches the rhythm of Eddie’s, a slow but strong beat that sounds like a love song written only for them. Because they belong together. There could never be anyone else for Steve; his heart and soul belong to Eddie and Eddie alone. And for as long as he'll let him, Steve will give Eddie everything he needs, everything he wants, and sometimes even more than that.

Eddie is his to hold. To fuck and tease. To hurt in all the good ways and to love. No one else but Steve is allowed to touch him like that.

   “Only me,” he whispers once more, a little selfish and a lot possessive but he knows that’s okay because it’s true. And it makes him smile, content and satisfied, before exhaustion finally pulls him under.

[urdreamydoodles]

im assuming you're taking requests, so I will bring you Scott, Logan, Jean, Ororo, Charales, Erik with a young kid reader who has a very power mutation and is an omega level mutant, and is now at the mansion because they parents didn't want them

X-Men x Kid!Reader

Their relationship with you—a omega-level mutant

After being abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous omega-level mutation, you arrive at the Xavier Institute, where a X-Man take you under their wing. They help you navigate the overwhelming potential of your powers, becoming mentors and parental figures as they guide you toward self-acceptance and control.

Characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr

Of course I take requests, don't hesitate to ask again love ♡ And thanks for the idea, I hadn't planned on writing for a Kid!Reader soon but you motivated me to do it. — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you first arrived at the mansion, Scott was the one who greeted you. As a leader, he had taken on the responsibility of welcoming new students, especially those who might be difficult to place. But when he learned that you, a young child, had been abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous mutation, something in him softened. He saw a reflection of his younger self in you—alone, scared, and confused about your powers. He was quiet at first, observing you as you sat in the mansion’s common room, staring out the window, your small form dwarfed by the large surroundings. You didn’t speak much either, afraid of being rejected again.

Scott had been through so much with his own powers, especially as someone whose mutation had caused harm in the past. He understood how overwhelming it could be, especially for a child. He approached you cautiously, always careful not to seem too intrusive. "Hey," he said softly, kneeling to be at eye level with you. "I know things are hard right now, but we’re here to help. You're safe here."

At first, you didn’t believe him. How could anyone help with something as destructive as your mutation? But Scott never pushed you, never forced you to talk about it until you were ready. Days turned into weeks, and little by little, Scott became the constant figure in your life. He would check on you every morning, sitting with you during meals when you felt too shy to sit with the other students. He’d take you to the Danger Room, not for training, but to show you that your powers didn’t define who you were.

As time passed, Scott began teaching you how to control your mutation, sharing his own struggles with his optic blasts and how Professor Xavier had helped him. He showed you that even though your mutation was powerful, it could be harnessed for good. The bond between the two of you grew, and Scott became a father figure in your life, guiding you through the complexities of being an omega-level mutant. Whenever you felt overwhelmed, Scott was always there, his calm and steady presence reassuring you that you were never alone.

The more time you spent together, the more you came to see Scott as not just a mentor but as someone who truly cared for you. He would bring you small gifts—a book he thought you’d like, or a new pair of shoes when he noticed yours were wearing out. He’d sit with you at night when nightmares of losing control over your powers haunted your sleep. Over time, Scott became the person you trusted most, the one who saw past your dangerous mutation and saw you as a person—someone worth loving and protecting.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Logan wasn’t known for being a nurturing figure, but when Charles asked him to keep an eye on you, he couldn’t say no. When you arrived at the mansion, a young kid with a mutation that even the other mutants found intimidating, Logan saw the fear in your eyes. It reminded him of his own past—how he’d been treated like a monster because of his powers. But he didn’t approach you immediately. He watched from a distance at first, letting you get comfortable in your new environment.

You were quiet, withdrawn, and understandably scared of hurting someone with your powers. Your parents had abandoned you, and that kind of rejection left deep scars. But Logan understood that. He knew what it was like to be rejected for something you couldn’t control. Slowly, he began to approach you, always in his gruff, no-nonsense way. "Kid," he’d say, catching your attention one afternoon while you sat alone in the garden. "You hungry? Come get something to eat."

At first, you were hesitant around him. Logan’s rough exterior and gruff voice made him seem intimidating, but over time, you began to realize that beneath all of that was someone who genuinely cared. He didn’t coddle you, didn’t treat you like you were fragile. Instead, he treated you like a person, not just a child. He would take you with him on walks through the woods surrounding the mansion, teaching you survival skills and how to listen to the world around you. Logan wasn’t the type to sit down and talk about feelings, but in his own way, he helped you understand that your mutation didn’t define you.

As your bond grew, Logan became more protective of you. He’d take you out to train, showing you how to defend yourself—not just with your powers, but with your fists. He wanted you to be strong, to not rely solely on your mutation. "There’s more to you than just that," he’d tell you, his tone gruff but kind. "You’ve got a brain, kid. Use it."

Logan was never one for emotional speeches, but his actions spoke louder than words. He’d be there when you had nightmares, sitting silently by your side until you fell back asleep. He made sure you had everything you needed, even if that meant going out in the middle of the night to get you something. Over time, you began to see Logan as a father figure, someone who, despite his rough edges, loved you in his own way. He was the one who taught you that you were more than just your powers, and for that, you loved him back.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

When Jean first saw you, she sensed the fear and confusion swirling around you like a storm. You were so young, yet your powers were immense, dangerous even, and you didn’t have the control to handle them yet. Jean understood what it was like to carry the weight of powers that felt too big for you. She’d been there once, and she knew how terrifying it could be. So, from the moment you stepped foot into the mansion, Jean made it her mission to help you.

Jean was gentle with you from the start, never pushing you to open up too soon. Instead, she made sure you knew she was always there, a comforting presence in the chaos of your new life. She’d sit with you during meals, smiling softly, encouraging you to try new foods or talk about your day. "You’re not alone in this," she’d say, her voice calm and reassuring. "We’ve all been where you are. It’s okay to be scared."

The first time your powers flared up, it was in the middle of the night. You had a nightmare, and your mutation spiraled out of control, shaking the entire mansion. Jean was there within seconds, her own powers calming the chaos around you. She sat beside you, her arms around your trembling form, whispering soothing words until the storm inside you calmed. "It’s okay," she’d murmur softly. "I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you."

Jean became the mother figure you had never known. She was patient, always understanding that your powers were tied to your emotions. She spent hours with you, teaching you how to meditate, how to center yourself, and how to control the overwhelming power you carried. She shared her own experiences with you, telling you about the times she had lost control of her abilities, and how she had learned to harness them with time and practice.

The more time you spent with Jean, the more you grew to trust her. She was the one you went to when you were scared, the one who held you when the weight of your mutation became too much. Jean was always there, offering comfort, guidance, and love. She never saw you as a danger, even when your powers flared up unexpectedly. Instead, she saw you as a young mutant who just needed a little help finding her way.

As your relationship deepened, Jean became more than just a mentor—she became the mother you had always needed. She was there for every milestone, every step of your journey to control your powers. And when you finally began to master them, it was Jean who stood beside you, her smile filled with pride and love. She had taken you under her wing, and in doing so, she had given you a family.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you first arrived at the Xavier Institute, Ororo Munroe was one of the first faces you saw. There was something about her calm and regal presence that made you feel a little less overwhelmed by your new surroundings. You were still so young, and with your mutation threatening to spiral out of control at any moment, you were terrified. Your parents had made it clear they couldn’t handle the dangers your powers presented, and now you were here—alone, confused, and unsure of what to expect.

Ororo approached you gently, her voice soft but strong. "Welcome," she said with a warm smile. "You’re safe here. We’ll figure this out together." She could sense your unease, the way your powers hummed beneath your skin, ready to burst forth at the slightest emotional trigger. Ororo understood what it was like to have powers connected so deeply to one’s emotions. Her ability to control the weather had once been wild and untamed, just like you.

At first, you were hesitant. You didn’t trust easily, not after the way your parents had reacted to your mutation. But Ororo didn’t push. She gave you space when you needed it, but was always there when you felt ready to open up. She took you under her wing, teaching you how to connect with nature, how to calm your mind and body to prevent your powers from overwhelming you.

She would take you out into the gardens, her favorite place at the mansion, and together you would sit in the grass, surrounded by flowers and trees. Ororo showed you how to focus on the wind, the rustle of the leaves, the soft patter of rain—small, natural things that helped you feel grounded. "Your powers don’t control you," she’d say with quiet conviction. "You control them."

As time passed, Ororo became a mother figure to you. She was always patient, always understanding. She taught you discipline and control, but more than that, she taught you self-acceptance. She helped you see that your mutation was a part of who you were, but it didn’t define you. Whenever you had a rough day, Ororo would be there, offering comforting words and reminding you that you were stronger than you thought.

The bond you developed with Ororo was unbreakable. She was there through every challenge, every triumph, and every setback. With her guidance, you grew stronger, not just in your abilities, but in your confidence. And no matter how many times you stumbled, Ororo was always there to lift you back up, her gentle smile reminding you that you were never alone.

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

You hadn’t said much when you first arrived at the mansion, but Charles Xavier didn’t need words to understand the storm of emotions brewing inside you. The moment he saw you, he could sense your fear, your confusion, and the overwhelming power you were struggling to control. Your mutation was dangerous, unpredictable, and omega-level—something your parents couldn’t handle. They had sent you here, hoping Charles could help, but you felt abandoned, rejected.

Charles had seen it all before, in countless young mutants who had passed through the mansion’s doors. But something about your quiet demeanor, the way you held yourself as though you didn’t want to take up any space, tugged at his heart. He approached you with kindness, offering a gentle smile. "You’re not alone anymore," he said, his voice soft but reassuring. "This is your home now."

At first, you were skeptical. You had been told so many times that you were dangerous, that your mutation made you a threat. But Charles never treated you that way. He was patient, understanding, and always willing to listen. He never probed your mind without permission, respecting your boundaries even when he knew you were struggling.

He spent hours with you in his study, guiding you through meditation exercises, helping you learn to quiet the noise in your mind. "Your mutation is powerful," he’d tell you, "but it doesn’t have to define you. You are in control, not the other way around." His presence was calming, his belief in you unwavering. It was the first time in a long time that you felt like someone truly saw you—not as a threat, but as a person.

As the months passed, Charles became more than just a mentor to you. He was like a father, always there when you needed guidance or support. He encouraged you to push beyond your fears, to embrace your mutation as a part of who you were. With his help, you began to gain control over your powers, learning to harness them instead of being overwhelmed by them.

Charles never gave up on you, even on the days when you felt like giving up on yourself. He believed in you when no one else had, and that belief made all the difference. Over time, the bond between you grew stronger, and Charles became a pillar of strength in your life. You knew that no matter how difficult things got, he would always be there to guide you through it.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you were first brought to Erik Lehnsherr, you were terrified. Not just of your powers, but of him. You had heard stories—whispers about Magneto, the mutant who could control metal with just a flick of his hand, the one who had waged wars for mutantkind. But there was no one else who could understand what you were going through. Your mutation was out of control, destructive, and your parents had given up on you.

Erik didn’t approach you like the others at the mansion might have. He didn’t sugarcoat things or offer soothing words. Instead, he looked at you with a kind of intensity that made you feel like he was seeing straight through you. "You are powerful," he told you bluntly, his voice firm. "More powerful than you realize. And that power is something you must learn to control."

You weren’t sure what to make of him at first. He was intimidating, his presence almost overwhelming. But there was something in his words that resonated with you. He didn’t treat you like a fragile child. He didn’t look at you with fear or pity. Instead, he saw potential in you—potential that everyone else had overlooked.

Erik took you under his wing, and while his methods were harsh at times, they were effective. He pushed you harder than anyone else, refusing to let you be consumed by fear or self-doubt. "Fear is a weapon," he would say during training sessions. "And if you let it control you, you’ve already lost."

As the days turned into weeks, you began to see a different side of Erik. Beneath the hardened exterior, there was a deep well of care—especially for you. He had seen firsthand what it was like to be cast aside because of one’s powers, and he wasn’t going to let that happen to you. He believed in your strength, even when you didn’t, and he was determined to help you harness your abilities.

Erik was a complicated figure in your life. He wasn’t soft or gentle like the others, but he was there when you needed him most. He challenged you, pushed you to the brink, but always pulled you back when things became too much. And over time, you came to trust him, to see him as more than just a mentor. He was like a father to you, albeit one with a complicated history.

Under Erik’s guidance, you grew into your powers. He helped you understand that being powerful wasn’t something to fear—it was something to embrace. And though your relationship with him was often difficult, it was also one of the most important connections you had ever made. You knew that, despite everything, Erik cared for you in his own way. And that was enough.