#and i won't apologize for it not being life-changing

[fools-ramblings-and-whatnot]

Drabble (wip): Safe haven

"Prefect, I don't understand why won't you just hand over my dorm members".Yuu blinked their sleepy eyes. It was early morning, too early in fact. Riddle stood in front of Yuu's front porch, demanding that they return the duo."Why are you so insistent to keep them in your dorm?"

Yuu massaged their temple, trying to sober themselves up from sleep.

The Adeuce duo committed another blunder and had ended themselves up collared.

Indignant and ever so stuborn, the two has sought asylum in Yuu's dorm.

It seems like in NRCs rulebook, although changing dorms takes a process, staying in another is possible as long as the dorm head permits. Yuu was the dormhead of Ramshackle, and therefore had the right to house the two."Look Riddle, as much as I would like to return to you my friends. I can't let them keep barging into my dorm at night everytime they get upset with you."

Riddle's face was turning red. "Upset with me?"

Yuu sighed. It would have been better if Trey came and not Riddle, as the former was atleast calmer.

"You know the rules Riddle. They stay with me until I kick them out. Sorry."Yuu bowed their head for a moment, in faux apology, then they shut the door on Riddle's face while yawning.

Yuu wasn't really too amicable when they're sleep deprived.

.

.

.

"Potato..."

"Vil-senpai."Yuu acknowledged,once again he was opening his dorm door for another dorm leader." No, I will not kick Epel out the dorm."

Vil clicked his tongue.

Clearly, he could barge in the dorm and just drag Epel out if he wanted to however, the Ghosts inside the dorm had made it clear from his last visit that they do not care if he was a star, and had no qualms carrying him away and dropping him off disheveled near the dorm trashbins.

That was a horrible day for everyone involved . Vil's scream was earsplitting. Yuu had feared for their life ever since,yet the dorm leader had not done any curse upon them...yet.

"Just give him up, what benefit is being stuborn do for you?"The Pomefiore dorm leader scolded."You can't possibly just permit him to stay in your dorm indefinitely? Your water will do no good for his skin!"

Yuu's eyebrow twitched.

Its not their fault they sometimes lose hot water and don't have one of those fancy bath tub complete with skincare stuff.

"Vil-senpai, if you were far less strict maybe he would willingly return."

Vil scowled.

Yuu rolled their eyes."Then its a no for both of us." They shut the door again.

Wip. Was bored. Main idea is that when the first years get upset with their dorm leaders, they go to Ramshackle dorm for refuge.

Shenanigans occur.

[azaracyy]

"true partner" click here for the uquiz created by @/niconicomuda on twitter

[izzy-b-hands]

today should be a t break day

bc I'll need it to be more effective in the coming days if we see family, and then I'll have the survey shifts

but since late last night i keep randomly nearly breaking into tears and thinking abt the stupidest shit that needs to stay in the box in my brain

so idk. maybe it will be. it is thus far. but I'm not leaving my room without a container of some edible or another in my pocket either

[catmask]

tbh when i hear some people talk about 'breaking cycles of abuse', it becomes clear pretty quickly who has come to understand that phrase to mean 'since i was a victim of abuse/neglect by my parents/caretaker/s i will do everything to be nothing like them' and that is all. its not a completely flawed way of thinking either - something that hurt you would very likely hurt someone else; through empathy we learn to understand not to hurt others the way we were hurt too.

but what 'breaking cycles' looks like is more complicated than just not being your parents/caretakers - it's about recognizing how the things that happened to you changed you and how you can heal so you don't hurt someone else in turn. the survival skills you learned in an unhealthy enviroment often translate to poor if not unhealthy interpersonal skills in an enviroment where things ARE safe.

its a difficult pill to swallow for a lot of survivors of abuse (trust me, i know) because we have a tendency to simply want our pain to be recognized. by painting yourself as "absolutely nothing like my abuser" you can abstain from recognizing your own harmful tendencies and live comfortably in the role of victim hood for the rest of your life. it can be tempting to do this especially when so many people will do their best to deny what you experienced - almost like leaning into a stuck door that just won't budge.

the problem with this is if you never recognize that being mistreated made it so you LACK a lot of what other people learned from a loving enviroment, you can hurt people pretty badly even when doing your best just not to replicate what your parents/caretakers got wrong.

this also hurts for victims because, when it comes down to it - it's not FAIR. you were hurt for no reason, and most of us will never hear an apology or even admittance from the person who did it - so why do YOU have to change? why do YOU, the person hurt unjustly, have to put in the work?

and i mean. that's what breaking a cycle is. it means pushing against what's fair and comfortable deliberately so that you can stop something that's been repeating. it's work. its not just recognition of pain, it's the purposeful healing and treatment of it. but thats scary, and it's not fun, so a lot of people fall right back into it. its a lot easier said than done.

[the-tarot-witch22]

How your future spouse will treat you - Pick a Pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me! | My Paid Readings

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you guys - 2 of swords, king of pentacles, 5 of swords, ace of cups, 7 of pentacles, ace of wands, 10 of swords, judgement and 9 of pentacles)

Okay so the first thing i feel is they will treat you like a princess you are, they way you deserve to be treated. By listening to you, by treating your inner child, doing things for you, giving your surprises. For some of you who chose this pile there is anxious or nervous energy, like you don't actually believe you could be treated or loved this way, sometimes you end up choosing the path which is difficult or has difficulty in decision making, I also heard some of you waiting or still waiting for their loved one even if they don't show it, this is just feeling i got when i started doing your reading. Okay so let's talk about your cards, I feel they will have quite many decisions to make about you, like what do you need what do you actually want, how can they prepare things for you i also see them being confused just because they want to give you the best, some of the surprises they plan is hidden but i tried to channel it, it could be necklaces jewelry, or some expensive things planning trips for you, I also feel they will blindfold you a lot while they give you gifts, or surprises just to see your happy expression, honestly? they love that. I also feel they like fine things in their life and will give that to you as well, their love language is def gift giving and act of services, they will make the best of what they have, i heard "I will never disappoint you, darling", your love for me and everything you do for me, i am just so grateful, you deserve the best", so sweet!, I also feel they will be like a kid around you, dping silly things, giving you memories and love to hold on to, honestly the way you want to be treated and loved, they seem determined to make you feel loved and the way you deserve, They will spoil you with riches, i heard gift so many times so cute, if you are sick? they will wash your hair or help you wash them, prepare soup for you, no matter if they know cooking or not, this pile or their future spouse might like to read too, they are honestly a softie at heart, but just cover it up well with their hard exterior persona, I see them making the decisions which will help you both, they will push you out of your comfort zone to do things you never thought of doing or just too scared to do, they will help you become the better version of yourself, showing the love in the way they can, i see a picture or thing where you both go out grocery shopping, and he will be like let me hold it, and you just pick things, and he will hold it for you, there also might be conflicts because of change in opinion or your some different beliefs but i feel he will be apologizing to you for making you feel that way. They will not disrespect you or make a joke that will break you but most likely they will support you if someone is disrespecting you? they won't tolerate they will stood up for you, or at least calm the situation, i heard "hopeless romantic" so it could be you or them for sure, they will make you feel at ease and peace, you inner child will be safe with them, you don't have to feel you have to do something to earn his attention it's already yours, "when i look at you or think of you the world seems to stop and I don't know what i can do to make myself at ease, i just wanna meet you now" the emotions , the love everything will flow easily, you might also be their passenger princess, they will hold on to you cherish you, put efforts in the love and relationship, they would not want to lose you and they will make sure you know, I also feel outside you are very respectful couples, but at home you are very freaky like tear off my clothes type, best combo honestly, they will make you feel more loved and confident in your own body, I strongly feel you both will go through ups and down but make it out stronger than ever, i heard "i will worship the ground you walk on". You both are emotionally and financially stable couples, communication is very important for you guys.

Wow pile 1, they kept giving me messages, so sweet, i love it!

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you guys - 3 of cups, the chariot, the empress, page of cups and ace of swords)

Okay so the first thing i feel is they will treat you with utmost respect, even in bed or normal setting they will be treating you with such sincerity, they respect your wishes. I see them losing them in you. They are quite dominant or seductive, but also polite, they will be very soft spoken towards you, I also feel your relationship will be still playful, but with respect and boundaries and that's why i got the message of him being respectful towards you, I feel they will give you the things you desire the most and need, they will take care of health and even career wise, like asking if you are okay, is there new issues in your life regarding it, for some of you they would tell you to take it easy when you're distressed or not happy with what you have been doing, i feel they will try to motivate you, heal you, make you move forward towards the thing you wanna do , encourage you regarding your career or even personal life, they will be okay with whatever you do, as long as you are with them, they will trust you a lot too i feel, very it's super important in your life and with him, I feel he will be making sure you know that he have your back no matter what, i heard "my eyes won't leave you, no matter where you are you stay in my heart and head all the time, and it's not like i am complaining, I also feel they will be giving you baits to be with them more lol, like so you don't go to work and stay with them, their love language could be words of affirmation too, they will not let a single day go by that they won't show that to you, you will mean a lot to them, they will nurture you, you know a saying the more you cherish something they stay forever? that's kind of mindset they have, they won't like to be separated with you, they might also like to give you space, but also suffer because they wanna cling on to you so bad, very motherly vibe too, for some of you could be cancer moon? or you guys are, I also feel he will make sure you have eaten no matter how upset you are, check in with you, if you went to the hospital alone? and they were busy so they will call you and ask you what has happened are you okay, what did the doctor say, they don't or won't abandon you in any hardship you both go through, I also feel they are very young or pure hearted, they don't or won't make you upset or try not to, your anger with them, will only make them fall harder lol, so cute, with them you will see love, marriage and relationships with new perspective, maybe some of you have bad opinion on marriage, they will change that, i also feel they are very open minded and have good beliefs. I also see a situation where they text you every morning, and tell you how appreciative they are of you.

Pile 2, your future spouse, is a very loving and honest person, and they will make sure you feel loved everyday.

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you guys - Ace of cups, 3 of wands, knight of wands, 6 of wands, 8 of pentacles and knight of cups)

Okay so i feel very playfully like so loving in a way, you saw in movies, opening the car gate for you? check? holding your hand while crossing the road? check. Winning things for you in fair or parks, also check. They will treat you like a freaking sweetheart so aggressive love too, but not in a hurting way, you guys have you seen the video where the guy piggyback his girl and say "you are my princess and queen" that's exactly what i channeled when i think about how your fs will treat you. He won't let you do things alone, helping you in every way he can, he might even tell you to don't work so that he can provide you, he would want you to be stress free and at peace with him, i feel a scene where he plans movie nights at home with you, treat you with snack, his love language could be physical touch , he would like to kiss you a lot, a passionate energy from this pile, he is in tune or has a emotional side as well as dark passionate side in bed, you will be in a ride of your life with him, he will be also very protective of you in every way he can, he would not like men being friendly towards you, but honestly nothing in a bad way, more like you are mine type of energy lol, he would like to touch you a lot when you are outside, showing everyone you are with him, He won't let you fall apart again, when you tell him about your past or the relationships you have had he will hate it honestly, for how they treated you, he will even do so much after care after your intimate time with each other, very emotional and sincere, a package honestly, I also feel he will help you explore the hidden parts about yourself, he won't shame, even if you are in wrong, i see him supporting you, but will politely let you know you were wrong, i heard "when i love you, it's only you, no one else", there is some versatilities in your relationship but i see him and you respecting that and still being attracted to each other both emotionally and physically, he will treat you as you are a part of himself, doing things to make you happy like if you want to dance and he doesn't he still will do that, he wants to see you the happiest with him, it's funny how he sending me little nsfw messages for you guys like sir this ain't the right reading for it, but i am still gonna channel got to give you guys what your future spouse wants, no? hehe, I also feel he will sweep you off with his charm like everything even if you are cold hearted or believe in actions , he will just melt you lol, he will also be a very smooth talker, i feel musk scent for some reason?, he will admire you a lot, and treat you as a win, a charm for him, he feels he got lucky he got you and he will show it to you, he is also quite playful with you and likes to tease you but all in a good way, some people could be jealous of your and their dynamic too, for them you are the only one, and that's so loving and admirable, I also feel he will cook dinner for you if you got late from work or anywhere, so that you can rest without stress. They seem so gentle and caring with you.

Such a gentleman! love it for you pile 3.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[prezaki]

One core trait of Phoenix Wright as a character that I rarely see discussed is how utterly evasive he is about his private affairs. It sticks out the most in AA4 when we see Phoenix from the outside, but "Phoenix won't tell anyone anything important unless he absolutely has to (and even then, he probably won't)" is by no means a new development for him.

From AA1 onwards, we see Phoenix dodge people's questions about his personal life time and time again. In part, this is by narrative necessity - Phoenix knows more than the player is meant to know in order to achieve the optimal tension curve. But AA takes his narrative shortcut and turns it into a real character beat.

Phoenix Wright is the most cagey fucker on the planet.

At the end of 1-1 Mia asks him how he came to befriend Larry and Phoenix dodges the question with a vague promise to tell her later - this also means that in all of his time working with Mia, he's never actually disclosed his full motivation for becoming a lawyer to her.

In 1-2, Maya asks him how he knows Edgeworth and he dodges, because of course he does. The same song and dance repeats at the end of 1-3. And despite Maya's repeated prodding by 1-4, Phoenix still has not told her a thing about his past. That's from October until December that Maya is left going ??? and her questions go nowhere.

Then, between AA1 and AA2, Edgeworth is presumed dead by suicide. Does Phoenix tell Maya about this? Absolutely not. He does not tell her in letters nor is he clear about it when they see each other again in person, months later.

What Maya gets once it's inevitable to talk is a vague 'he's gone' and no elaboration other than the request to not speak about him again.

This is Phoenix's default coping mechanism.

In AA3, there are numerous instances where he mentions forgetting Dahlia, not speaking her name again, etc. Edgeworth is 100% getting the 'person who hurt me too deeply to think about' treatment here.

But to not even tell Maya a vague overview on the matter, when Maya knew him too? Rough. And it just keeps going.

It's six months between telling Maya that Edgeworth is 'gone' in 2-2 and her finding out that 'gone' seemingly means' dead' in 2-3.

Maya complains about it, too. This isn't a matter of 'she never asked again', it's a matter of 'Phoenix is dodging all questions'. Gumshoe has to intervene in order for Maya to finally find out.

And finally in 3-5, does he tell anybody why he's going to Hazakura temple and why he seems interested in Iris? Absolutely not!

At this point we get Edgeworth openly acknowledging that Phoenix keeps his emotional cards extremely closely to the chest. When he states that he wants confirmation on whether or not he has met Iris before, this exchange happens:

Even as Edgeworth directly calls him out on being evasive and never actually speaking to people, all Phoenix can do is acknowledge that this is how he is by apologizing - but he won't change his ways.

AA4 Phoenix is really just a natural evolution of Trilogy Phoenix - Trilogy Phoenix is already evasive, already hates telling people about his struggles or accepting help... It's really no wonder that he'd isolate himself instead of reaching out once he gets disbarred.

[shaisuki]

SHAI I NEED YANDERE MICHAEL KAISER BABY TRAPPING CHUBBY READER..... PLEASSEEEEEEE AHSHSJZJZNJ

𝗕𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗦

FT. YANDERE! MICHAEL KAISER

content warnings: babytrapping, sabotage, brief chap. 260 spoilers, implied abuse, abandonment issues, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, smut.

synopsis: kaiser is ready for a baby but you aren't ready so you leave him with no choice.

“i'm not ready for a baby, michael.”

that wasn't the answer he was expecting coming from you. michael had put a lot of thought on this, starting a family with you and you straight out refused him. never did he felt betrayed from the person who is you.

he have the influence. connection and wealth to raise children no matter how many you want but why the answer of you not being ready when in his mind you were the perfect mother to his perfect kids.

“so when you will be ready for children, rose?” the nickname rolling smoothly in his tongue. grasping your soft jaw softly and lifting it up to meet his baby blue eyes. his lips quirked in soft curve. a smile he had shown to you many times.

“i don't know, michael. honestly, i've been thinking that we're both not ready for it and i'm scared. scared that i'm bringing a life in this world where i'm unsure of what to. i don't want for the baby to have a mother whose unsure of herself.” you reasoned and you watch as his smile deflates. replacing it with a thin line. a look of disappointment in his face. his baby blue eyes darkening.

you meant it. he's sure of it and despite for searching for a subtle hint that you are lying, he found nothing. only the features of what a anxious person is and michael hated it.

everything was going fine. he's the ace of bastard münchen, the one who will replace noel noa, an emperor and he can't get what he wants. needs. he only want a fucking child with you and you can't even be prepared for it when your job is only to bear his kid.

your explanation meant one thing. you don't want to be with him anymore. that's right. that's the reason you don't want to take it on the next step and sooner or later, you'll be leaving him for good.

he won't allow you leave him. out of admirers and his potential lovers none of them made connection and attachment to him like you did. you were the chosen one for him and a devious idea formed inside his thought. he could impregnate you without your knowledge and you won't be thinking of leaving him with a child inside your already round stomach. he's sure of it. you're nothing a like to his greedy mother. you're perfect for motherhood, to him.

he'll be killing two birds with one stone and thus, it begins.

“m-michael....” you softly moans out his name after reaching your release and kaiser groans from the tightness of your cunt milking him dry. it's still the same from how you call his name, the hold you have in his arms, everything. however it didn't change that you leaving him since you confessed that you don't want a baby from since he expressed his desire for wanting one.

michael eyes the pill bottle in disdain watching as you popped two pills in your mouth. birth control pills. one of the things he certainly dislikes. preventing you from being swollen with his child.

he softly pats your head. the questions reeling in his mind. “you know we're going to be great parents to a child.” he commented out of the blue of the dimness surrounding the room. you tense at the subject of being parents. shifting in your place where you lay your round cheeks in his lean chest. you pressed your palm in his chest and meeting his gaze. “michael, please not again. i'm not ready. we're going to be one but not today.” frowning at what he's implying again.

“i apologize, my rose. the thought don't simply want to leave me.” the pad of his thumb grazing on the softness of your cheek. “i always think that our child will be blessed with a parents like us. imagine a mini-version of me or yours and better a mix of us. having us for them to look at. both they will love.” his voice gentle and sweet. a glint of fondness swirling in his eyes and it made you sick. staring at those eyes of him when he talks about it.

sighing, “i want that too, michael.” your simply murmured. avoiding his gaze and he's quick to met yours again. “we both want it.” catching your lips in one of a desperate kiss before pulling back. pushing your round shoulder. laying down with your back in the sheets. michael hovers above you. his blonde hair streaked with blue were like vines hanging.

“we should have plenty of conversation once it happened. looking forward to seeing this stomach of yours getting rounder than already it is with our baby.” he cheekily commented although it was laced with honesty. “michael, i'm on the pill.” you giggled. the striker smiles at you. “i know. let me have you like i'm going to get you pregnant.” he's one with you again.

the sudden blaring of the timer startles you. five whole minutes of waiting and your life is about to change, maybe michael's too. you weren't sure and your hands shakes like they were electrocuted. exhale and inhale. you repeated it. the tears is already pooling in between of your lashes and you didn't know wether to cry or not.

building the courage of grabbing the flipped pregnancy test down. you reversed the stick and you bursted into tears. the results clear as the daylight.

all two lines. it is positive. all three of the pregnancy sticks littered in the sink indicated you were pregnant with kaiser's child. why? the first question appeared in your mind. you were careful and so is michael since you made it clear you didn't want a baby and michael was respectful of it. you don't know what you're supposedly to do know. your misery in exchange for kaiser's happiness.

a triumphant smirk blooms in his face. his jaw resting in your head while he comforts his girlfriend who told him minutes ago that you are pregnant with his baby. switching from shushing and comforting you that he knows best. listening while you cry your heart out. “we were careful, michael.” you sob. “i know.” he whispers.

“i was on the pill. i took them regularly at the right time.”

sugar pills.

sugar pills is what you had been taking for the past months. a bit hard to differentiate them from the real ones, your birth control pills easily switched with those sugar pills. you didn't even suspect a thing and during that time where you began taking them is where he made sure to breed you full. cumming deep inside and staying for a bit to make sure it took and it did.

michael cups your cheeks. “it was meant for us, my rose.” was his only explanation to you. sparks and sparks of new emotions bubbling inside of him. he's going to be a father. the best one and you his girlfriend is about to be a mother. he would spend the next months looking over for his soon-to-be wife and baby. of course, wife. the baby would not to be illegitimate child of his.

as much kaiser dislikes your tears, it was better. you can no longer leave him. not with his baby inside you. it would be considered a crime for you to take it away. truly, it wasn't going to happen if you simply just agreed with him. have his baby, end of story.

it's going to be a bed of roses from now on.

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 1 - Betrayal

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, betrayal, mean!Bucky,

Hi! This kinda came outta nowhere lmao. Apologies for the angst, I just needed to do an angsty/sad fic cos I'm in my feels. As always, I appreciate your comments and reblogs. This is a two part series (standalone, not linked to any of my other fics, not the same characters as in Sweet and Sour) second part coming soon...

Wordcount: 3.7k

💔

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me, Doll. After everything we’ve been through? Was it all a lie?”

“Don’t deny it! That’s your voice on the recording! Banner proved your phone was there, it pinged there – we’ve got the proof. Even now you’re lying, you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

You had read about people being too stunned to move or speak, but you always thought it was a little embellished for dramatic effect in books. Surely, you could just push through? Surely shock did not have such a profound effect on your body that it rendered you temporarily paralysed and mute?

But you had calmly walked down the stairs towards the lobby of the house twenty minutes ago and hadn’t moved since. You just stood there now, rigid and dumbfounded, trying to understand how your entire world had just collapsed around you mere minutes beforehand. Now, you got the ‘stunned’ thing. You understood.

The aftershocks of Bucky yelling at you echoed around your head. What had just happened? You’d been sleeping peacefully just before he stormed in your shared bedroom, roaring at you before your eyes had even opened. You’d never seen him like that before. This wasn’t your Bucky, this was work Bucky. The one he’d always worked so hard to keep you from.

Why wouldn’t he listen? What did he mean, the recording? The phone ping? Your skull ached as you tried to make sense of it all. You would never do a thing like that to him. You loved him. You’d die before you purposefully tried to hurt him. Why didn’t he understand that?

You briefly considered going back upstairs, finding him wherever he was in the labyrinth of this house and straightening this whole mess out. Telling him you loved him, and he had to listen. Taking him in your arms, kissing him softly.

But the memory of the look in his eyes, the sheer rage they contained, the hatred that lay there, stopped you.

There was nothing to go back for.

You managed to pull yourself from your paralysis and move towards the hall closet near the front door. Well, it was more like a small room than a closet. An overflow from the walk-in closet just off the master bedroom upstairs. A huge space packed with a selection of Bucky’s jackets and shoes. He liked keeping some of them downstairs, getting the staff to rotate them when he wanted a change. Some of your things sat in there too - a few high-end coats, beautiful shoes. 

Correction, past tense - they were yours. Not now. 

“You’re a liar! You lied to me…Bet you loved spending my money too, didn’t you? Laughing all the way to bank as you sucked me dry…”

You screwed up your face as the memory of his voice flooded you. He was just so angry…he just wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t believe you…

You pushed it all aside and opened the closet door, darting and shuffling through the combined thousands of dollars at your fingertips - the Dior, the Gucci, the Prada. You knew it was in here somewhere.

Then you spotted a flash of red behind one of the shoe racks in the far corner. There she was. 

You moved towards it, grabbing at the red fabric and tugging. It squeezed past the luxury shoes and revealed itself as you pulled it toward you - your faithful red backpack.

A relic of your former self.

No designer labels here, just a bag that had followed you throughout your life - high school, college before you’d dropped out, various apartment moves and vacations. The once-bright crimson colour had faded over time, but it was still sturdy and strong, still TARDIS-like in how much you could pack inside. It stuck out like a sore thumb in the closet against the glamour and opulence. 

You knew how that felt.

You unzipped it and dug through the contents. A pair of jeans, a sweater, a couple of T-shirts and your beaten-up old sneakers. Some pairs of underwear and bras. A few other simple garments. All polyblends and cheap textiles. No fancy labels to be found. No fine silks or luxe fabrics that Bucky had liked to spoil you with. 

This backpack was all you had to your name when you’d moved in here. Funny how life went in circles, because once again it was all you had now.

At the time Bucky had taken it from you and insisted you throw it away - you wouldn’t need it! He’d buy you a whole walk-in closet full of clothes! 

And he did. 

A dizzying amount. More than you could ever wear. A mix of designer labels and custom pieces that fit you perfectly. Fine tailoring and exquisite details. Dresses. Blouses. Pants. Jeans. Organic cotton t-shirts. Skirts of every length. Winter coats that had cost the same as two months of your rent in the city. Underwear sets so pretty and delicate that you were almost too nervous to wear them. 

And accessories, too. Handbags. Jewellery. Shoes. Oh, the shoes. Heels, flats, boots, sandals, sneakers and slippers. Shoes for fancy parties and shoes for hikes. Shoes for the grand vacations. Shoes for just lounging around the house. Shoes you only wore for sex.

All gone, in an instant.

It didn’t matter, anyway. You always told him you didn’t need any of it. And you weren’t lying. You’d never lied to him, despite what he believed now. You were always happiest in sweats and loungewear, you just liked being comfortable and yourself. You just liked being near him.

At the time you’d talked him round about letting you keeping the backpack - nostalgia, you know? You’d had it years, after all.

But he didn’t think you needed it. That was then, this was now. Why keep an old bag when you could get anything you’d ever want? He’d buy you a hundred backpacks, he said, he’d get your initials embroidered, he’d let you design your own, he’d have your favourite designer make you one - especially for you.

But that wouldn’t be your bag. The bag that had seen everything. Your constant companion. 

You persisted. What was one little backpack in a big old house like his? It would take up no space at all. He wouldn’t even know it was there.

He relented eventually, he’d always loved how down to earth and low-key you were. He was fond of your sentimentality. You’d never been interested in his money; you’d kept the love notes he wrote you - not the shopping receipts - but he still liked to spoil you. You deserved it. 

Or so he’d told you then. But it was a different story today. 

The bag had been hastily stashed here in the closet the first day you moved in and had been there ever since, languishing amongst the Italian tailoring. 

Until now.

Part of you wondered if deep down you had always known this day would come. Maybe your gut had sensed it was all too good to be true, and you knew you needed to store a parachute for the inevitable fall. 

You sniffed, wiping away the threat of more tears. There would be time for that later. 

You looked down at the slip you wore, the slinky, silly nightie thing he’d bought you that you’d worn to bed. Not very practical now you’d be out on the street. 

Your brain suddenly switched into survival mode, most likely in an attempt to stop yourself from falling apart, but you couldn’t think about it all now. You needed to find somewhere to stay. And you couldn’t do that in a silk nightdress. 

You quickly shrugged the gown off, leaving it in a tangled pool on the floor of the closet and mentally apologising to Martha who would have to pick it up tomorrow. You grabbed the backpack and pulled on the jeans, a bra, one of the tees and the sweater. You rolled the Dollar Tree socks onto your feet. Kicked on the sneakers. It was all a little musty from being folded up in the bag for so long. But it would do. 

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the closet mirror and gasped. Aside from the wild eyes and tear-stained face, you looked like a version of yourself you hadn’t seen in a long time. Another life.

Hello again.

Next: where to go. The obvious places were Wanda’s or Nat’s homes. And you’d go there. Either would work. Either would welcome you with open arms, being the true friends that they were. Bucky’s betrayal had made you question everything you knew about love, but not the faith in your friends to catch you when you fall. That was unshakeable. 

Maybe you could alternate who you stayed with until you got back on your feet, so you weren’t too much of a burden to either. You just couldn’t face either of them tonight, you needed to be alone. 

You frantically rummaged through the backpack again until you found what you were looking for at the very bottom. You let out a little yelp of relief.

The battered old wallet had seen better days, but it was hanging on. You opened it up and breathed a sigh of relief that you’d never transferred your driver’s license into the Gucci wallet Bucky had given you on that first day. Thanks, lazy past self. It wasn’t like you’d driven much anyway, not with his all drivers on the payroll and the Uber account he’d loaded onto your phone. 

The wallet also contained debit and credit cards you’d never cancelled but hadn’t touched since Bucky gave you your very own black card. It was funny how you used to obsessively count every penny and now you could charge whatever you wanted without a second thought.

Not now, then, you corrected. You needed to get used to your life with Bucky being referred to in the past tense.

“You were working with the feds this whole time, Doll? Is that it? You were all laughing at me? Laughing at how easy it was to let you in? The cute little waitress doing her ‘oh shucks!’ routine, catching me hook, line and sinker?? God I’m such a fucking idiot…”

You stifled a sob, but continued hunting through the wallet.

You thought about your purse sitting out on the side table by the front door. You could take that with you and charge a hotel room it. He probably wouldn’t even notice such a small charge amongst his wealth, and even if he did, he wouldn’t begrudge you a few bucks for a roof over your head for one night. Would he?

No. Enough. 

He had ended it. He had implied you were a leech. He didn’t listen, he didn’t trust you. He didn’t believe you. If he truly thought you’d done what he said…he couldn’t ever have loved you. Not really. 

No more spending his money, even though you never really felt comfortable doing so anyway. The showdown tonight had confirmed your biggest fears - he’d always resented you for spending his cash. You couldn’t live like that anymore. 

Besides, you didn’t want him to know where you were. Not that you thought he’d come after you…but still. 

Fortunately, the wallet had a ream of stale bills stuffed in one of the sections. You exclaimed in excitement; you remembered them now. It had been your last day at your waitress job. You’d quit right before you came over to this place to move in, and Lou had given you the rest of the week’s pay plus tips. You had fought him on it, insisting you didn’t need it - but Lou had asked you to take it. For his sake.

“I want you to be happy, hon’,” he’d told you kindly when you had shared your plans. “And I know you’re a smart girl. But you’re getting mixed up with…a different kinda world. A…different kind of guy. You never know when this might come in handy”.

You’d frowned at him at the time, not quite sure what he meant. But as you stood there in the closet clutching the cash, you sent him a silent thank-you for his foresight. God bless Lou. He was exactly right.

You shoved the money and the wallet back into the red bag and moved from the closet into the hallway. The house was completely silent. If Bucky knew you hadn’t left yet, he’d made no effort to stop you. You admitted that a tiny part of yourself had hoped he’d come after you and admit he’d made a terrible mistake.

But he wasn’t coming. 

You slung the backpack over your shoulder as you headed to the front door. As your hand curled around the handle, you turned and took one last look at what had been your first real home. What you’d hoped would be your last home. 

You looked over at your phone which you’d tossed onto the dresser next to the closet in your panic. You briefly pondered taking it, but it wasn’t yours anymore. You’d buy a burner in the morning and get a new cell plan once you were back on your feet. 

Wow. You were surprising yourself with this pragmatism. But you also knew you were hanging on by a thread.

But the fact was - you’d survived before Bucky, and you’d survive after him, too. You always kept going. You’d been dirt poor before, you could do it again. You’d been alone before, too. You’d been alone most of your life. 

You could do it again.

‘Tenacious’ - that’s what Nat had called you once. You weren’t sure if you agreed with her at the time, but now you wanted to prove her right. You wanted to be the person she believed you to be. 

You already knew it would be much harder now, as you’d had a taste of the other side. How the other half live, as they say. Before, you didn’t know any different - you didn’t know what you were missing. Now you absolutely did. Not just the money…the comfort…but being cared for, being loved. 

On some level, you’d always known this wasn’t going to be your happy ending. You knew deep down that the house of cards would eventually fall, because it always did. 

You just wished you weren’t always right. 

You opened the door and stepped out into the dark.

💔

You walked for thirty minutes towards the city. Bucky lived on the outskirts and most of the journey had been leaving his estate along the single, winding road that led up to his property. None of his men paid you any mind. Not the ones with guns pitched up along the perimeter. Not those waiting in cars half a mile from his house, keeping an eye out for any potential threats as they did every night. They all knew who you were, so word must’ve spread fast. Otherwise they would’ve been falling over themselves to check on you and find out why the boss’ girl was out walking by herself at this time. 

You wondered if Steve or Sam had put a message out on the comms. ‘They’re over. Don’t worry about her anymore’ or words to that effect. Something cold but concise. That’s how this operation worked. 

You’d developed friendships with some of these men. Chatted to them and even brought them coffee when they kept watch on cold nights. You would watch then from the windows and tell Bucky you were worried about how freezing it was out there, and he’d laugh it off and say it was part of their job and they were fine. But they were always grateful when you came out with a thermos, always told you how much it meant to them. 

All of it forgotten in an instant, you were disposable as anything else in Bucky’s empire. You understood that now. Just like when he wanted a new car or a new watch, he’d toss away the old model - then find himself something newer and shinier. 

You walked a little further as signs of civilisation starting to appear and Bucky’s acres of land disappeared behind you. A gas station. A boarded-up strip mall. You were a little frightened walking alone by yourself, but the sheer adrenaline your situation propelled you forward. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you eventually found a tired-looking Holiday Inn up ahead. A few of the lightbulbs on the neon sign were out, meaning it spelled out H LIDAY INN. A leaky drainpipe dripped a steady stream of water over the entrance. Oh dear. 

But it would do for now. 

You took a deep breath as you went inside and checked in at the front desk, paying for a basic room with your waitress cash. The disinterested receptionist gave you the key card and sighed with boredom, barely looking at you as she barked the directions to your room and resumed Candy Crush on her phone. She didn’t seem surprised to see a lone woman turning up in the middle of the night, arriving to a roadside hotel on foot, paying for two nights in crumpled bills. She didn’t even ask to see your ID. That all gave you a pretty clear idea of what the staff were used to here.

You passed an ancient-looking PC that guests could use, which surprisingly, as it looked like it was last updated for Windows 95, had WiFi. You made a mental note to log on tomorrow to message Wanda and Nat on social media and fill them in …and hopefully get one of them to come pick you up. 

You grabbed some chips and soda from the vending machines then walked towards the elevators. Not quite the glamorous dinner you’d become accustomed too, but it would do. For now.

You hit the button to call the elevator as you slumped against the wall, the exertion of your long walk and the evening finally catching up with you. The elevator creaked and spluttered but it finally got you to your floor. 

You scanned your keycard and swung the room door open, dumping your backpack and snacks onto the wood-veneer desk before flinging yourself onto the double bed. The no-frills basics were worlds away from the fancy hotels you were used to staying in with Bucky, but it was clean and comfortable. And most important of all, it was private. 

“Just get the fuck out. We’re done here so save your tears. Over. Finito. I don’t need some liar in my bed, being sweet to my face then sticking a knife in my back – then not even having the guts to admit to it when she’s caught red-handed”.

Finally alone, you allowed yourself to weep. To mourn the end of your relationship and the man you thought Bucky was, versus the man he turned out to really be. To grieve, to bid farewell to the life you thought you had (and would continue to have) with him, and the way you thought he saw you. It wasn’t just about losing him and tarnishing your memories, it was also grieving for a future and a life you thought you were going to have. 

“I don’t care. You’ll figure something out, sweetheart. You’re just lucky this is all I’m doing after everything you’ve pulled…”

Large, wracking sobs took over your body as you curled up on the hotel bedspread and allowed yourself to feel it all. You ate the chips and drank the soda, barely tasting either. You turned on the TV and let the black and white movie on the one working channel serve as background noise. Fatigue eventually swam over you, smothering you like a weighted blanket.

Soon there were no tears left and the well had finally run dry. Mercifully, sleep finally came for you, and you gave into it without a fight. 

And you slept. And slept. 

💔

Bucky was at his desk looking at paperwork when Steve came back into his home office. He was doing his best to ignore the nauseating rush in his gut, trying his hardest not to think about you and the way your face had crumpled as he confronted you. Most likely it was just your guilt, anyway.

“Barton said the shipment arrived right on schedule, everything accounted for,” Steve advised as he poured himself a shot of bourbon from the small bar setup in the corner of the office. “And Sam’s out at the shipyard, running through the plan with Rumlow”.

He was desperate to address the elephant of the room and ask Bucky how he was holding up, but Bucky had previously insisted nobody bring your name up. So he didn’t. 

“Good,” Bucky replied curtly. “And Stark?”

“All on board. Said we can iron out the details next week”.

“Perfect, thanks”.

Steve nodded, downing the last of his glass as he placed it on the ornate tray and headed to the door.

“Oh, and Steve?” Bucky called out to him.

“Yeah, Buck?” He turned to face his friend.

“Do you….you uh know…where she went? After…what happened?” He asked, the tiniest hint of hesitation in his otherwise firm tone. Most people wouldn’t have spotted it, but most people didn’t know Bucky like Steve did. 

Steve shook his head, “No, Buck. Some of the men saw her leaving on foot a little while ago”.

Bucky swallowed but his face betrayed no emotion, “On foot?”

“Yeah. I guess she didn’t have a lot of options…” Steve shrugged.

Bucky nodded, “Yeah…I guess I just assumed she’d book a cab…or call one of her friends…” he said wistfully as he looked back down at the papers across his desk.

“She left her phone. Scott found it by the front door, next to her purse. I’m not sure she took anything with her, actually,” Steve mused.

Bucky frowned, “No…phone? No…money?”

Steve shrugged, “I don’t think so. But that’s good, right? You said yourself she was probably just playing a long-con to get your money too…”

Bucky’s gaze dropped back to the desk, his grip on the fountain pen he was holding tightened, the nib shaking from the force of his strength.

“You okay, Buck?” Steve asked tentatively as he watched the way the pen shook.

Any hint of vulnerability was immediately snuffed out as Bucky’s eyes snapped back to Steve. 

“Of course. Fine. Let me know what Sam says”.

Steve nodded, “Right. I’ll call him now”.

As Steve closed the door, the pen snapped in Bucky’s hand.

[murdrdocs]

MDNI ; explicit sexual content ; fem!reader

thinking about luke being so desperate to have you that he can't control himself.

you're naked on the bed, completely bare, and your skin glistens with sweat. it shines from the light coming through the window. he can't keep his eyes off of you. he can't keep his hands off of you.

he's already as close to you as he could get, physically and emotionally. he’s buried inside of you to the hilt, one arm wound around your back, the other holding himself up by pressing his hand into the space above your head. but he needs more.

his skin is burning. it's hot today, stuffy in the cabin, but that's not what's affecting him the most. he's used to the heat that comes and goes during the summer. it's this carnal desire that's new to him, the craving that makes him want to crawl out of his skin and lodge himself into yours.

his hips rut up into yours with more force as he bares his teeth, burying his head in the crook of your neck, pulling your torso closer to him and creating a curve in your back. you huff with the change, and he expects you to recoil, to undo the arch in your back and situate yourself more comfortably onto the bed.

instead, you dig your hands into his tousled hair and push your pelvis closer to his. luke grins against your neck, he nips the skin there and then presses a kiss into the same spot.

he pulls his knees up closer to the backs of your thighs, sitting on his haunches as he pulls you practically onto his lap. he resumes his pace, a vein in his neck straining as he attempts to hold back a little. he wants to give you more. he wants to give you all of him. and although you hold the same divinity as him, he still fears that you won't be able to take it.

maybe some other day.

for now, he gives you what he knows you'll be able to handle. at least, that's his plan, but then you start fucking yourself on him, both of you utilizing the hard trained muscles in your cores to stay in the position.

it's discordant, a push and pull that's not exactly rhythmic, a concotion of staccato and legato movements. you groan, digging your nails into the skin on luke's shoulder, and he realizes that while he might be holding back, you aren't.

your nails pierce his skin, there's definitely a few marks and he can't tell if the liquid running down his back is blood or another droplet of sweat.

"luke, i need..." you start the sentence but never finish it.

your pelvis grinds into his, you press a hand behind you into the mattress and roll your hips. it gives you some form of satisfaction; luke can see your eyes roll back as well as he can hear your grateful sigh.

apparently, it gives you an idea, because you pull yourself closer to him, dig your toes into the mattress, and push him back until he lays flat.

barely a second passes before you're on top of him, riding him like your life depends on it. the bed is too short for this, and luke's head hands off of the edge of it. he lays like that for a moment, too lost in the change. his hands grip your hips as your cunt slurps him up and spits him out, just to repeat it once more. the sound is absolutely filfthy, so vivid and lewd and luke wishes he could commit it to memory.

just as he wants to commit the image to memory.

a pain settles in the back of his neck as he holds his head up to stare at you. to watch your tits bounce and your stomach flex and the way your skin ripples with each bounce.

you're letting it all out at this point, pressing luke's hips down with your hands while you moan unabashedly as you use him.

"yes. right there! gods, 's good, luke."

it's wrong of you to call upon the divine in a moment like this. if you were in your right mind, maybe you would have slapped a hand over your mouth and apologized profusely. but you don't. you keep going, repeating it with absolutely no cares.

your uncaring nature pushes luke closer. because how is it that you, the sweet girl who would only speak kind of the gods, turn into this.

he grips your hips, briefly considering taking over once more, but you're doing so well on you're own and he knows you flourish best when he gets you started, and you finish things on your own. so he lets you get him closer.

he warns you of his impending orgasm, he asks you to get him there (it comes out more of a beg than anything), and when he feels his balls tighten, he digs one hand into the bedsheets and the other into the flesh of your ass and he lets go.

the cum gets trapped in the condom, warm against his already sensitive tip, and then to add to it all, you clench around him and bring your chest down and he feels the hard pebbles of your nipples pressing into his pecs. your hand snakes between your bodies, he can feel the ghost of your fingers rubbing at your clit, and your moans are so clear next to his ear as you get yourself closer and closer, finally reaching the end when luke weakly thrusts up into you.

[churipu]

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (21/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The truth comes under purple skies.

Warnings: angst, but mostly tooth rotting fluff because you deserve it

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: a little late happy birthday to me! sorry for the wait. I love you.

Although you keep your eyes closed, you know that it is still dark outside.

The air in the room is cool against your face, while your tired body is kept comfortably warm under the heavy comforter. It is just as warm against the free, uncovered parts of your body as Charles' soft skin.

His arm is wrapped around your middle, his fingers are tightly intertwined with yours and his thumb strokes gentle circles over your hand. A tender, loving gesture that you're not sure whether it's meant to calm your nerves or his own. 

You haven't changed your positions in bed since you fell asleep pressed tightly together a few hours ago. Charles's chest is still pressed against your back and if you were to focus on it, you could certainly feel his heart beating hard and steady. But you don't. Your thoughts revolve around breathing as normally as possible so that it still looks like you're asleep. 

You don't want to be awake. 

Being awake would involve thinking, and you definitely don't want to think about the last few days. You don't want to think about how Charles told you that you would jump into bed with Lando at the next opportunity. You don't want to think about Raphael coming to your front door last night and calling you a whore. And you don't want to be reminded that Charles jumped to your side and defended you without so much as batting an eye.

All you want right now is to lie here, in his strong arms, wrapped in his scent and warmth. Deep down, you know you can't be angry with him. Lando's words flit through your head again and again about how you both want to protect each other, and even though you've only known each other for a few days, you can tell Charles so well that it's exactly this part of him that makes him who he is.

But you still don't know why he treated you like that.

You breathe in deeply, take in his scent - a mixture of sandalwood, peppermint and a smell that you can only describe as Charles - and press your face into the soft pillow. Although you had been furious with him, you had missed his closeness over the last few days. 

The thumb that has been tenderly drawing figures on your hand pauses.

"I'm sorry." Charles' voice is little more than a whisper against your shoulder blade. As his warm breath brushes over you, your muscles tighten. "No apology in this world can make up for what I did to you. I betrayed your trust, hurt you, and left you thinking I didn't care about you." When you don't answer him, he continues. "I am so incredibly sorry. And I won't ask for your forgiveness or kindness, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you."

Your heart beats so fast against your ribcage that you fear it will break your bones and jump out of your chest. His touch feels like your skin is burning. When you open your eyes, you see purple clouds in the morning sky through the window. 

Carefully, you turn in his arms, whereupon his embrace loosens a little, but his arm remains on your hip. His eyes are closed, as if he doesn't dare to look into your face. His eyebrows are furrowed and there are a few wrinkles between them that you would love to smooth out with your fingers.

You decide to run your fingers over his bare shoulders. His muscles twitch under your fingertips. "Why did you do it?" Charles remains silent, so you tentatively place your hand against his cheek. You feel his stubble scratch your skin as he exhales deeply, as if he hasn't taken a decent breath in a long time.

He opens his eyes and there is an anxious gleam in the otherwise beautiful green. His gaze searches yours as he nuzzles his face against your hand. "I was jealous."

Jealous?

A small glimmer of hope flares up inside you. Maybe everything you've experienced together - the viewpoint, your movie night, the bookstore, the tiramisu - is based on something other than friendship. On something more. Maybe there was more to every conversation, every look and every smile than just the friendship you nailed down to protect your heart. Maybe you were just talking past each other the whole time. Maybe –

"I was jealous of how well you got on with Lando. I thought that if you got to know each other better and became more than just friends, then we wouldn't be friends anymore. I thought -" He pauses for a moment. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you because of your relationship."

You try to suppress the punch in the pit of your stomach and swallow the frog in your throat. "You hurt me and pushed me away because you didn't want to get hurt yourself?" Your heart breaks a little for him. You finally smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your thumb. His arm wraps around you tighter and presses you together. His fingers stroke your back and goose bumps spread across your body. 

That's exactly what Lando said. That Charles pushes the people he cares about away to protect himself. Something you can well understand, after all, you were planning to do the same to him. Only not so drastically. 

But Lando also told you something else about the Monegasque. "But that's not all, is it?" An image flickers in your mind's eye of Raphael holding out his hand to introduce himself to Charles. "You didn't just want to protect yourself. Or am I wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

As you say his name, a shiver jerks through his body, as if he's suddenly cold, and his hand freezes against your spine. "You're not." His tone is cooler, more distant than it was a few moments ago, and the tension in the room is palpable despite the purple clouds and morning calm as you place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating fast and strong.

"I - I think we both rushed into this friendship far too quickly." You try to put as much warmth into your whisper as you can, even though deep down your heart has caught quite a tear. "We've known each other for five days. And so much has happened in that time that takes some friends years. Our trust in each other went from zero to one hundred." You run your finger over his collarbone, your gaze following him.

Panting, he sucks air into his lungs at your touch. "What do you suggest?"

You purse your lips. "Maybe - maybe we should get to know each other better first. Get to know each other properly so that this doesn't happen again. So that our living together is easier."

Charles tightens his grip around your middle, his legs tangle with yours. "Living together? Does that mean you're staying with me?"

You nod slightly, but grab your arm with your hand to pull away from him. Something flits across his face, but as quickly as it came, it's gone again as you place his hand between your faces on the pillows. "But maybe a little distance will do us good. So we don't mess this up."

His fingers interlace with yours. "I'll do everything I can to make this work."

"That makes two of us," you smile, missing his touch on your body. You miss the warmth pulsing through your veins under your skin. But it's the right thing to do. At least that's what you try to tell yourself. You take a deep breath. "I - I'm unemployed, by the way." You look down at your hands. "I was fired from this magazine before we met. I'm looking for a new job so that I can continue to live in Monaco, because my savings won't last forever. That's why I'm so grateful to you for standing up for me with Joris. About the rent. I can't thank you enough for that."

"But you don't have to," he replies quietly. "Friends help each other. They're there for each other. I can understand why you didn't tell me. Nobody likes to talk about the fact that they've recently lost their job." 

"Thank you," you whisper back. You feel a weight fall from your shoulders. You suddenly find it easier to breathe. But now it's something else that's plaguing your thoughts.

And no one but Charles can give you the answer. "Can you please explain to me what happened yesterday? With - with Raphael?"

The Monegasque briefly lets go of your hand so that he can play with your fingers. He doesn't look at you. "Do you remember the night we watched Cars together?"

You nod. How could you forget that night? The wine, the movie, the flirting that apparently wasn't flirting. Ouch. 

"We talked about Formula One and how you used to watch it with your grandfather when Michael Schuhmacher drove for Ferrari." His gaze is literally glued to your fingers. "When we first met, I told you that my work had something to do with cars, and I wasn't lying."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. If he's a mechanic or engineer for one of the racing teams, that woiuld explain why he has to travel so much for work. "Is that where all the cool photos on your phone come from? Because you fly across the globe with Formula 1 to work on the cars?"

Your flatmate purses his lips. "I don't work on the cars. I - I drive them." He licks his lips once. "I'm a Formula One driver for Scuderia Ferrari."

"Don't fuck with me," you reply, wanting to pull your fingers out of his grasp. But he holds on to them and when he lifts his gaze and looks you in the eyes, you know he's telling the truth. And his confession makes you see the last few days from a different perspective. 

The conversation between Charles and Joris, shortly after he suddenly appeared in the apartment, pops up in your mind. "When we met, that night - you were on the phone with Joris. You said something about headlines."

He nods slightly. "A few weeks ago, the season ended and Annika and I broke up. I stayed away from here as long as I could because I didn't want to be confronted with it. And when I got to my apartment for emergencies, there you were. With a valid tenancy agreement. I couldn't just throw you out the door. You could have gone public and then it would have made the headlines. Something like "Charles Leclerc throws poor woman out of rented apartment". It was a risk I couldn't take." He furrows his eyebrows again, but this time you hold back.

"You have a nutritionist."

Again he nods. "For the races, I have to follow a strict diet to make the car go faster. Unfortunately, pasta and thick sandwiches aren't part of it, so please don't tell him." 

Fragments of the last few days appear one after the other in your mind's eye, which you try to sort out and work through. "The bistro you went to after the bookshop had already closed, hadn't it?"

"Yes. But when do you ever have a Formula One driver on your doorstep who needs two sandwiches?" He shrugs. "One photo and we've had our dinner."

You lick your tongue over your lips and you don't miss the way Charles' eyes twitch to your mouth. "We went everywhere in my car. Why?"

"You've seen my car." He's referring to the fancy Ferrari in the parking garage. "With its stripes, it's not exactly inconspicuous. Especially since everyone knows the car is mine." He runs his thumb over the side of your index finger. "As soon as the car rolls down the street, everyone knows it's me. And everyone takes photos of it. I couldn't risk you getting caught up in all this because of a stupid car. And especially not because you couldn't choose it until now. Your sweet tin can was the only way we could get around the city together without attracting attention."

You clench your jaw. "The meetings in Italy. What about it?"

"The headquarters are there, in Maranello. Before the winter break, the team wanted to get together again and discuss what went wrong this season and what we can improve."

"And you could just leave like that?" you ask him.

He shakes his head. "Not really. But in my opinion, there wasn't much to talk about either. The season was a throwaway." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was actually a little relieved when Lando called and asked me to go home."

So you were right. The Brit did call Charles. "And what did he say?" 

"Exactly what I needed to hear." He smiles slightly. "He threw a lot of swear words at me and made it clear that I'd be the stupidest idiot in the world if I screwed up this friendship."

You don't know what to do with this information. The fact that Lando called Charles and made a slug out of him doesn't bother you much, because the Monegasque needed the push. But there's also something about the fact that Charles didn't come up with the idea of straightening things out himself. That one of his friends had to step in for you first so that he would get off his butt and stand up for this friendship. That Lando -

"What about Lando? And Pierre? And Kika? Are they part of Formula One too?"

Charles purses his lips into a thin line. "Lando and Pierre are also drivers. Kika is a model."

Bile rises in your gullet as you release your hand from his and turn onto your back, closing your eyes. Everyone knew, they even work in the same field, and no one thought to let you in on it. The whole thing could have gone down the drain. People could have recognized you both, taken photos of you and spread the word. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I -" Charles exhales. "I was just scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"My job - my name - brings a lot with it. A lot of good things, like seeing the world, getting to know cultures and not having to worry about things like money. But there are also negative things, like a lot of pressure, fake friends, no privacy." He also turns onto his back. "I don't want you to choose something you don't want because of my name. I thought - I thought if we stayed in our little bubble, our little world, that - I don't know. It was just nice to have someone as a friend who wanted to be friends with me because I'm Charles. And not because I'm Charles Leclerc."

You have to smile. "Actually, I'm only friends with you so that I can live with you and save on rent."

"Haha."

You clasp your hands behind your head. "I can understand, I think. That you have to be careful who you surround yourself with. And that there are a lot of people who only use you because you're you. It sounds very lonely."

Charles snorts softly. "It can definitely be lonely."

"Then let me assure you that I don't want to be friends with you because of your money or your name." 

"But?"

"Do you really need reasons?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt my ego," you can practically hear his grin. 

"All right," you reply. "I want to be friends with you because you're kind and considerate of your friends' feelings. Because you trusted me with your favorite place, even though you didn't know me. Because you introduced me to your friends because you thought it was inevitable anyway if our friendship strengthened." You take a deep breath and exhale. "I want to be friends with you because you're funny and make me laugh. Because you have a big heart. Because -" 

A feeling bubbles up inside you. You've felt it before - the day after your movie night, when you were reviewing the evening. In the not entirely innocent dream you had about Charles. And when you shared the bed after the bookshop.

It's warm, like a warm blanket, strong like a good hug and bright like Charles' eyes when the sun shines on his face. Charles is not just your roommate. Or your friend. Charles is so much more. Charles is your home.

Before you can complete the sentence, the Monegasque interrupts you. "That's good. That's good enough for me, thank you." He smiles. "It's nice to have you as a friend. Even if I don't deserve it, the way I've treated you."

"Mm-hmm." 

"Maybe you should sleep on it one more night and then decide if you really want it. There's so much more that comes with a friendship with me." When you yawn, he has to laugh. "You see? Maybe you're not even able to think straight right now. And then I push you into a friendship that you don't even want."

"I'm sure," you reply tiredly and you notice how your eyes get heavier. 

"But -"

Before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his hand and interlace his fingers with yours. You try to ignore the fact that this makes your heart beat faster. "I'm sure of it. Believe me." 

When you gently squeeze his fingers twice, he replies with the same gesture. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have to find out," you smile and as you yawn again, Charles pulls you closer to him. Like a magnet, you slide across the bed towards him, unable to resist as your face finds its place against the crook of his neck. 

He lets go of your hand, but only to wrap his arm around you. His hand rests on the bare skin of your hip, while his other hand pulls your leg over him so that you're half lying on top of him. You are enveloped by him, fully and completely, and as you place your hand on his bare chest, you feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. 

You try to convince yourself that it's not beating for you, but as you snuggle even closer to him and your lips touch the soft skin on his neck, you feel it skip a beat. But maybe you're just imagining it. 

"I'll be better from now on," he whispers and tentatively presses a kiss to your forehead. Goosebumps spread all over your body, but not because you're cold like he thinks, which is why his arm presses you even tighter against him. "I don't want there to be another moment when you doubt how important you are to me, mon amour."

"You can teach me a little French," you reply. "Then you can hide less from me if I speak your mother tongue too," you joke. 

Charles feels your smile on his neck and he is glad that you can't see the blush on his face. 

"Anything you want. I'll go to the other side of the world for you if I have to."

"But not until tomorrow, all right?" You gently caress his chest with your fingertips and Charles draws in a sharp breath. "Now it's time to sleep. And don't you dare steal my blanket in the night."

Charles would love to pull you on top of him, kiss you and promise you that you're safe with him and that he won't let anything happen to you. But he holds back, just lets his fingers dance over your skin. 

He promises in the purple morning light. "Deal."

next part

[stark-ironman]

I am in love with your writing, and I am also OBSESSED with Hugh, I simply need to give this man five children, anyway, could you please do something with Hugh now, with a younger girlfriend, maybe 21? She's getting pregnant for the first time and being scared, and Hugh is there for her as the sweet and loving man he is 🙏🏻❤️ plss, sorry for the bad english, it's not my first language, tkss

I'll be there for you

A/N: I loved writing this! I wish it was longer but I might come around and do another part to this. I hope you like it! Always remember you can send in more requests!

Warnings: Accidental pregnancy, age gap (reader is 21, I made Hugh 51)

Positive +

Your breath hitches as you look at the four tests laying on the counter. This wasn't supposed to happen, not when you and Hugh made sure to be really careful when having sex because you two agreed on just being friends with benefits, nothing more. There's absolutely no way he wants to have a baby at his age. Not that he's too old but you know he's had other plans for his life that never involved a baby.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you from your thoughts and you read it.

"Come over when you get done. I want to see you." Hugh texts, making you start panicking. Fuck, fuck, fuck... what are you going to tell him? Better yet, how?

Taking a deep breath, you stick the tests in a bag and drive over to Hugh's place, a little slower than normal but you arrive faster than you planned.

"Great to see you, love." Hugh smiles as he hugs you, letting you walk inside and you give him a small smile. "Do you need to put the stuff in the bag up?" He asks. You start fidgeting with the bag, feeling your heartbeat and breath start picking back up.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?" Hugh starts immediately asking, pulling you in for a hug. Apologies fall from your mouth as tears run down your face, handing him the bag.

He looks at you confused but opens it, pulling the test out while you try to read his face for any kind of emotion. "You're pregnant?" His voice is hoarse as he continues to stare at it. "Yeah, I found it when you texted me earlier." You sniffle, wrapping your arms around yourself. "Well, what do you think about it?" He asks.

"I don't know. I know you didn't want anymore kids, especially with someone as young as me. I wasn't even sure if I wanted kids and now..." Your voice trails off and he motions for you to continue, "Now I want to keep the baby. I know you probably don't want to but I'll raise the baby by myself and I-" Hugh cuts you off by kissing you, running his hand through your hair.

"I never thought I would want kids again but being with you these past several months has made me question what I want out of life. I know I'm too old for you.. fuck, we probably should've never gotten together but I can't help but feel a deep love for you. I've loved you for a long time now but I was okay with being your fuck buddy. I want this life with you and our baby too. We can have as many babies as you want if it meant I get to be with you." Hugh confesses, not caring that he's rambling.

You stand on your tiptoes, kissing him softly. "I love you too, Hugh. I want this life with you. I've never cared about your age and that won't change, ever." He smiles at you, leaning down and pressing his lips against your stomach.

[farshootergotme]

I get emotional thinking about how his family would react to Bruce's change if he ever started working on himself, on improving his behavior. But the one I think about the most is Dick Grayson.

Alfred is the one who was there from the very beginning, but Dick Grayson is who arrived and made the biggest impact. He's the first kid who Bruce took in, the one who approached this man and became his first partner to fight by his side out in the night.

Dick was able to pull Bruce out of the darkness that consumed him. No matter how many times Bruce went back, Dick's presence was a constant reminder that there's not only shadows. That if Bruce pushes back, fights so he won't be dragged down, he will find light.

However, it was a cycle. Dick would get him out, but Bruce would go back, sooner or later. And repeat. And Dick realized this and knew he couldn't let that be his whole life. But despite the distance, it still affects Dick knowing he can't find a definite solution for Bruce.

So, seeing Bruce actually change, get better and seeing that last...it would lift the heaviest weight on Dick's shoulders, who's felt responsible for Bruce's emotions since the day he became Robin.

It's been implied to him that Bruce needs him, that he's who keeps him from falling. And Dick, despite not always feeling like he is enough, carries with that responsibility because, deep down, he also feels like he owes it to Bruce, who Dick has needed (still needs) present in his life, too.

Bruce getting better would be like being able to breath again, but it would be so suffocating too.

Dick would happy for Bruce, for the man who raised him. He'd be relieved that the hurt will stop, for both his father and those he's continuously pushed away. But then he'll be anxious, will it really last? How long until he can be sure? And he'll be scared, does he still need him, now? Does a Batman who's gotten help still need Dick Grayson Robin? Nightwing? And lurking in the back of his mind, there'd be anger. Why now? Why after all those years? Why not before? Was Dick not enough reason to change? Was he never worth this? And shame will drown those thoughts. It's selfish, to think that way. He should be happy. He wants to be happy. He is happy. But he is also mad. He's sad and he mourns the child who never saw this side of Bruce. And most of all, he loves. He loves Bruce too much to hate him for it. No matter how angry, no matter how hurt, he loves his father and he's grateful for him, for his efforts. And all he can do is smile and congratulate him because that's everything he feels he has the right to say.

And when all is said and done, Bruce will come to him and Dick will have to face the worst part of this change;

Apologies.

If Bruce has truly changed, then he would know there's more things than he can count with his fingers that he has to apologize to his son for. And out of everything else, this is what Dick Grayson fears the most.

Dick can take it, he can hear Bruce out, but he can't unpack all the pain he's been accumulating in front of his dad. He can't bring himself to say 'I forgive you' out loud despite having convinced himself long ago that it's alright.

Bruce doesn't didn't do apologies. Things happened and then went back to normal and Dick was okay with that. He forgave him, he did. So, Bruce doesn't need to apologize, he doesn't have to make him say it out loud. He can't tell him, but he's forgiven him long ago. Even if it hurt, even if he was still resentful sometimes, even if he wanted to yell at him for it, Dick could push it all down and forgive him. Bruce shouldn't apologize, shouldn't bring it up again because Dick isn't strong enough to keep it all bottled up if Bruce starts acknowledging it, if he confirms that Dick wasn't crazy for feeling wronged and hurt.

He can take it, but he really can't.

Just thinking about it drives me crazy because, out of everyone, Dick Grayson might be the kid who's been waiting for this the longest, and who thought he'd already given up the idea of his father finding a lasting happiness that would bring permanent change in him. And it would be just so overwhelming.

[inafever]

On how much Aziraphale has learned since season one:

This is about character development. Inside of a story, everything that happens, happens for a reason. It's meant to tell you something, to teach you or the character of your story, something.

So if the story continues and your character repeats the same mistakes again you know that they are bound to be doomed this time, and even worse the audience is going to certainly lose respect for them, cause they have made the same mistake twice, they haven't learned anything, they're gonna do it again another time, they don't deserve a happy ending. (yes I'm talking about good omens here) So you don't do that to a character that matters to you and you respect even the tiniest bit.

A Lot of us here are thinking that this is what has happened to Aziraphale's character at the end of season two, that he has done it again, repeated the same mistake again and has left Crowley to join heaven and it's been because of reasons like wanting to change Crowley (not true, see this post), still believing in heaven's goodness (not true at all), not being on the same page with Crowley (I'm gonna talk about this one especially in this post) and such likes. But these are the things he should've known better about after 6000 years and all the events that we've learnt about especially throughout season two. (It seems to be rather the whole point doesn't it?)

But we all seem to rather believe that he's made that mistake again nonetheless. so what we're doing here is trying to find reasons to justify the mistake and somehow make the reason behind the wrong actions something relatable to ourselves so we can forgive him when the time comes.

In fact I don't believe that he's made a mistake. for Aziraphale's character to be redeemable, what he has done, must be the only option that he's had for saving them both. I don't care what kind of situation could have resulted in him making this decision, but the only reason, the one and only reason, must be his love for Crowley. Otherwise it'll prove that he hasn't learnt his lessons or doesn't love Crowley enough to make a compromise, and in both cases, he's not worthy of love. He won't earn his happy ending by being tortured and feeling sorry and doing the apology dance for Crowley if he's hurt Crowley out of selfishness and stupidity again

But I'm sure he'll earn his happy ending and I'm sure he's learnt his lessons and it's too late for him to have unlearned them all in a matter of a few seconds. (He is an idiot but he's not stupid) and it's mostly because of this, that I believe the reason why he made that decision, must be very different from what it appears to be on the surface.

Anyway, this post is about what Aziraphale has learned and how he's changed.

I have made a post about their moments of conflict from both season one and two, it's here and you can look it up. This is where you begin to understand how Aziraphale has changed since season one because these are his dialogues after he's had a fight with Crowley in the bandstand, season one:

"even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn't tell you we're on opposite sides"

"friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you"

"there is no our side Crowley. Not anymore. It's over"

And then there's season two, when they disagree on what to do with Gabriel, Aziraphale is the one to point out that they both rely on the life they've built together

He's asking him to help him take care of Gabriel together and in response Crowley leaves

In the final scene he asks Crowley to come back to heaven

"work with me" "We can be together as Angels, Doing good" "I need you."

He says anything he can think of literally to convince him to stay with him and it doesn't work

We start from "we're not friends" and arrive at "work with me. we can be together"

Even if we don't know the reason why he's insisting on taking Crowley back to heaven with him, this is an Angel that has picked up the pace. That wants them to be an us. No matter what.

But these are only a few dialogues. I think there's more than that. I think the show in five and a half episodes (out of six) has tried its hardest to make the point quite clear about how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (or how strongly he feels those emotions). all through the way he looks at him and through his gestures and soft touches from time to time

I'm gonna make another post of those moments separately and I'm gonna link it to this when I do.

update: (here's the post. not just average moments of Aziraphale looking cute, it's something about the way he looks at him)

And I'd like to even compare those wishful glances to some of those from season one, but I can't, cause they are nonexistent in there.

[imadhatt3r]

You know what? That one line from that Phantom Liberty ending where V can call Johnny a "big ol' softie"? They're right. They're absolutely right.

Johnny is a softie. He goofs off on multiple occasions in V's field of view despite knowing that nobody can see him, probably to his own and V's amusement. He screams on the rollercoaster and grins like crazy at V. He adores Nibbles. He wanted to check on Kerry when he heard that he was suicidal. He finally took Rogue on that car cinema date and can flirt with her in a goofy way straight out of his favorite "Bushido" movies. He has fun on the reunion concert and gives Kerry his DeLuze Orphean as a goodbye gift. He narrates that one quest like a noir narrator just to mess with V. He understands Barry's grief over his tortoise. He's respectful when watching Joshua's crucifiction. He's nice to Spider Murphy and calls her "Spider". He sheepishly apologizes to Alt in "The Sun" ending. He puffs up his chest when Denny says she misses him. He's fuming over the kids in "Talent Academy" being treated like products, probably because it reminds him of how he was treated in the military. He feels for Solomon Reed because he sees himself in him. He feels for Songbird because her circumstances remind him of V's.

And speaking of, he really loves V. He just loves them so much; He's always on watch for any danger and does his best to give them advice. He promises that he will do everything he can to cure them. He will encourage them to take a break if they're feeling sick. He will attempt the most dangerous stunts to get them to Mikoshi. He promises V to let them wipe him from the Relic and he keeps that promise. He will realize that they're his only loved one left and will ask for the last chance, and when he gets it he does everything he can to make them proud and happy. He accepts their decision no matter what it is, because it's their body and life. His worst fear is getting to live again, but without his friend/partner/soulmate/beloved (depending on interpretation) with him. He's proud to be able to call himself V's friend. He's proud of them. He's sad that he won't be able to see how V will change. He choses to stay calm and positive before he will be innevitably killed so that his beloved V will live to keep them calm and comfort them.

That whole hardass, asshole act? It's a ruse, it's a front, it's a persona he had to put on due to bad childhood, PTSD from being drafted as a teenager, seeing other teenagers die horribly around him, losing his limb and being branded with the Arasaka logo he did his best to scratch out and being tossed into a rockstar life of drinking, drugs and fans when he was likely not much older.

He might fight it, but he will never be the detached, emotionless action hero he wants to be, because that's not at all who he is! I think that his slight grin when V says it is one of relief, that he was able to show his most vulnerable, tender and gentle side to the one person he holds dear and not be punished for it, playfully teased but with clear sympathy on V's part. After decades of struggle with who he is being so different from who he wants to be, he can finally be seen for who he is, and who he would be if his life went oh so differently.

[total-lunareclipse4]

🌜One sided hate🌛

pairing: five hargreeves x reader

summary: you work for The Commission, but so does your coworker who you hate. After a sweet gesture during your special day, you begin to wonder if maybe you’re the problem.

warnings: none I can think of

word count: 1.9 k

There wasn't anything extraordinary about today. You'd felt the same as always when you had woken up by the alarm blasting from your phone, and when you'd gone to turn it off, you'd realized that you didn't have any messages. Not that this came as a surprise to you, you hadn't even felt disappointed like years prior. The type of life you chose to lead was a very solitary one. Having a family wasn't compatible with working for The Commission, and friends got tired of associating with you when your work caused you to miss every important event in their life. Also, there was the fact that you didn't even stay in one place for long periods of time, traveling through humankind's history as if you were going from one country to another.

As you got in the shower, you dreaded going to work today. Usually, you were very fond of what you did, but today you were going in to do paperwork. Whenever a mission was over, you had to spend the next couple of days writing endless detailed reports about everything that had gone down for your supervisors to go over. In some cases, you would be called in and scolded for doing something reckless that had put in danger the integrity of the organization. That had only happened to you once, but the pain in the ass you had for a coworker had not let you live it down. He was the perfect employee, your boss adored him and everyone in the office was constantly kissing his ass. Not you, however, you did not care how good he was at what he did, you were also pretty damn good about it and didn't need to put others down to prove it.

Distracted by these thoughts, you lost track of time, realizing that you were now running late. Annoyed that you were going to have to miss breakfast, you quickly headed for your place of work. Upon arriving, you were quick to get inside, trying to hide from your boss so she wouldn't realize you were late. However, as your luck would have it, she was waiting for you by your desk.

With her red lips pressed firmly in a tight line and her pale arms crossed over her chest, she gave you a frown before speaking;

“Agent, a word.” She started walking towards her office and you had no choice but to follow. Once both of you were inside the room, you closed the door and sat down reluctantly.

“After today, that makes what? Three times you've been late this month?”

Four, actually. But you weren't going to correct her.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“No excuses today?” One of her eyebrows shot up.

With a sigh, you replied, “No, just a promise not to let this happen again.”

She looked taken aback by your change in attitude, being used to the endless rants that explained why you had been late that day. Some of your best stuff had been used during these meetings, realizing that you were most creative during the early hours of the morning.

“I love this job, and I'm good at it. I won't be late again, I promise.” You tried to keep your sentences as short as possible, wanting this conversation to end quickly.

Your boss rested her chin on her hand and waited a few seconds before speaking again.

“Look, I'm gonna be honest with you here. You have one of the best success rates, however, being a good killer doesn't necessarily make you a good worker. You need to take this job more seriously. Be on time, dress more professionally, hand in your reports when they’re due. Next time I won't be letting you go with just a warning.”

You tried to ignore her comment about your clothes, since you thought you usually looked very professional. There was a lot of thought put into your outfits. But this wasn't the time to argue with her.

“I'm sorry. Like I said, it won't happen again.”

“Good. Close the door on your way out.” You gladly took this as an opportunity to get out of her office, but when your hand had reached the handle, you heard her call after you.

“Wait, before I forget,”

So close, you thought.

“Have Five go over your report once you’re done with it.”

“What? Why?” your words carried a little more aggression than you'd intended, something that didn't go unnoticed by your superior.

“Because I'm telling you to do so.”

You debated if this was a discussion worth having, deciding that it indeed was.

“But he has the same rank as me, why is he supervising my work now?” You could tolerate putting in some extra work now that your job was sort of on the line, but answering to Five was something that you thought you could not tolerate.

“You have the same rank, yet, he’s never been late.” You knew this was a sign to drop the subject before she regretted not firing you in the first place.

You opened the door, resigned to leave.

“One more thing,” you heard her say, “don't ever question me again.

“Yes ma’ am,” you replied and went to sit over at your desk.

This was proving to be the worst birthday ever.

Once you were all settled in, you decided to start moving some files around, figuring that if you wanted to be taken more seriously, you had to start by cleaning up your place of work. That’s when you first noticed the little brown bag and the paper cup with your name written on it. Upon closer inspection, you realized they happened to be your favorite drink and pastry. There was also a note attached written in very neat handwriting that read: “Happy birthday, enjoy breakfast on me.” On the bottom left corner were three doodles you figured were a poor attempt at drawing balloons.

You looked around the office, but none of your coworkers seemed to be paying you any attention. Against your better judgment, you took a sip from the beverage, thankful that you were going to be able to eat some breakfast afterall.

Around noon, you were almost ready with your report, and you decided to take a quick lunch break as a reward for your work. You headed for the snacks machine, almost having forgotten about the terrible morning you’d had. However, things seemed to be going bad again when you noticed a particular coworker standing by the machine.

Taking a deep breath, you chose to rise above and walked over to get some food. You noticed he was whistling your favorite song, apparently not having realized you were there.

“Goodmorning,” you said as to let him know you were there.

Without turning back to look at you, he bent over to pick up the soda that had fallen from the machine and replied,

“Actually, it’s the afternoon.” Already annoyed, you looked down at your watch to realize he had been right. It was exactly twelve PM. You chose not to say anything, waiting for him to leave so you could buy your lunch, but instead, he opened his can with a loud POP and leaned against the machine.

“Did you like the breakfast? I wasn’t sure if that was still your order,” he asked.

You were shocked by the revelation, expecting the gift to have come from anyone but him. You had so many questions, and a couple of insults too. Regardless, the only thing you could mutter out was a poor attempt at being grateful.

“Yeah, thanks,” you spoke dryly.

“I know you never have any breakfast so I thought it an appropriate gift.” He took a sip from his soda.

“You couldn’t possibly know that,” you spat, annoyed.

He gave you a half grin, an insufferable look that said please, who do you think you’re talking to?

“You’re always late, usually looking like a hot mess. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you don’t have time to eat breakfast. Not saying that I’m not a genius though.” You hated that he was making assumptions about your life like that, however true they may be. He didn’t know the first thing about you.

“And humble too,” you replied, anger taking over your tone.

He furrowed his brow, as if confused by your response. Did he seriously expect you to act any differently after he called you a mess?

“Have I done something to offend you?” He asked.

You let out a loud puff. Where could you start?

“I don’t appreciate you treating me like garbage just because you’re on the good side of our boss.”

He let out a laugh, an actual audible laugh that made you want to strangle him.

“Buying you breakfast on your birthday is treating you like garbage now?” He always managed to twist your words to leave you looking like the bad guy.

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then what were you talking about? Enlighten me please, when have I ever been rude to you?”

This was your opportunity to show him how insufferable he had been over the years, however, after giving it some thought, you couldn’t come up with much.

“Like that time I got told off for making a mistake during a mission and you made fun of me afterwards.” You felt silly saying it out loud. It sounded so childish.

“That’s what this is about? I was just playing around, that’s what friends do!” He laughed again, taking another sip.

“We’re friends?”

“We aren’t?” He asked. His brows furrowed in a confused looked.

Suddenly, you realized all of the anger you had held against him over the years was nothing but one sided and utterly pointless, given that Five actually thought you two were friends.

“No, not to my knowledge,” your tone was soft, no longer mad but a bit embarrassed by your past attitude.

Five took a good look at you, inspecting you for a moment. He seemed to be making a choice in his mind, which he shared with you when he spoke again.

“Tell you what, let me take you out for dinner tonight, as a way to celebrate your birthday properly. We can actually talk and get to know each other then. That way you can make an informed decision about whether or not you wish to be my friend.”

You pondered about it for a few seconds, unsure if to trust the guy who you'd considered your enemy for as long as you’d worked here. After a little bit, you came to the conclusion that eating dinner with a coworker was better than sitting alone in your apartment feeding on leftovers, even if that coworker was Five Hargreeves.

“Fine, let’s have dinner.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Yeah sure, whatever,” you smiled. You figured you could try to be a little kinder to him after years of unjustified rudeness.

He smiled back and began walking away, once he was a few feet away from you, he turned around to face you again.

“And hey, don't forget to have that report on my desk before you clock out today,” he said with a wink before leaving you alone.

The anger came back, making you feel the urge to punch that stupid grin off his face.

Maybe all was not forgiven.

……..

author’s note: I’ll probably do a part two if this goes well of them having dinner!