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#but how sad is it to see someone that you care about so much; put themselves through danger on PURPOSE for the sake of others.
masonmontz · 3 hours
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hellooo everyone :) hope you like it
REMEMBER: english is not my first language
angst word count: 9,5k
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Y/N has a new boyfriend” Declan spoke and silence was the response he received. Mason felt his heart skip a beat and then fall to the floor, causing Mason to get a lump in his throat.
He just stared at Dec, trying to swallow the food he had put in his mouth before hearing the news. It took a lot of effort to swallow.
“I’m not hungry anymore” Mason pushed the plate away, feeling the strange sensation in his stomach, the same feeling that kept him awake at night. 
Lauren looked at him with pity and Mason felt like an idiot. Declan cleared his throat, realizing he shouldn't have told Mason the news, but what could he do if you were friends with him and Lauren too?
“Sorry mate, I shouldn't have said that” Declan apologized to Mason, but he shrugged it off, not placing the blame on Declan. 
“Who is the guy?” Reece asked, because after all he is also your friend. The restaurant seemed silent with the awkward atmosphere that remained at the table and Mason just stared at the plate he barely touched. 
“David. They work together” Lauren spoke and Mason looked at her, but Lauren was already looking at him waiting for Mason's reaction. Mason looked down and felt everyone's eyes on him, Dec, Lauren, Ben, Reece, Aimee and Henry. 
Mason felt like he was a bomb about to explode and everyone wanted to see the moment it happened.
“Sorry guys, I’m going home” Mason got up quickly and without looking at his friends, ‘cause he already knew that everyone noticed how affected he was by the news that you were dating, but he didn't want to see the pity in everyone's eyes. “Declan, pay my portion and I'll give you the money later.”
Mason left the restaurant quickly, but he heard Aimee's heels behind him and he sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to outrun the stubborn woman running after him. 
“Mase, wait-” she called him, and Mason only stopped walking when he felt the cold air on his face, needing some fresh air. “Hey.”
“I can't take this anymore, Aimee. I can't” Mason's voice was cracked, and the state he had been in for almost two months was deplorable. “She left me in the shit.”
Mason knows that Aimee is your best friend and he knows that you two talk daily, but he needs to talk to someone ‘cause Mason feels like at any moment he will reach his breaking point. 
His eyes filled with tears, and he was looking out into the cold night but Aimee could see his eyes were wet. 
“I'm so sorry, Mase. I tried to talk to her about it but she won't let me” Aimee hugged Mason from the side, putting her arms around his shoulders, even though he was taller than her. 
Mason looked at her devastated, and Aimee felt her own heart ache at the sadness on Mason's face.
“I really can't take this anymore, it's too much for me, Aim” Mason sighed and brought his hands to his face, because he still felt his heart tighten in his chest, he wasn't hungry and he felt like he could vomit ‘cause of the emotions that were going through him.
He missed you.
He was sad.
He was alone.
And you left.
“You know you can talk to all of us, right? We're your friends, Mason, and you can run to us whenever you need to. You don't have to deal with all of this alone” Aimee held his hand and Mason nodded, but he knew Aimee had been busy lately because she was planning her own wedding with Henry, but she was so nice that she offered to be Mason's support since you left.
“I know, thank you” Mason tried to smile, but he knew he gave the saddest smile anyone had ever seen. “Tell them I apologized for ditching dinner.”
“Don’t worry, but please, take care of yourself.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
You and Mason have been friends for years, you met in school and you had some friends in common. Everyone knew that Mason had been in love with you since you were a teenager, but you were never able to see him as anything more than a great friend. Not since the night you kissed for the first time.
You also knew that Mason was in love with you, but sometimes things don't happen the way we want, and even though he always treated you much better than your boyfriends, there was nothing you could do if you didn't like him back.
The night you were celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday in a place where all your friends were was when Mason decided to make the first move. 
He asked to deliver the gift he bought for you away from the others, and he gave you the most beautiful bracelet you had ever seen, it was gold and had your initial as a pendant, but it also had shells and stars, books, teacups and everything you liked the most. It was so delicate that you were moved when you realized how much Mason knew you.
When you hugged and thanked him that's when Mason kissed you, and that's okay, at that moment you didn't care and kissed him back. It was terrible to realize that that was the best kiss you had ever had, no one had ever kissed you so intensely, with so much love and passion.
Your mistake was going home with him after the party, ‘cause Mason was all over you the whole night and everyone could tell something was up, and you were also wrong for kissing him back every time, maybe giving Mason hope that it all meant something. 
At first it didn't really mean anything, but after weeks of having sex with him, even you who had an impenetrable heart found yourself attracted and in love with him. Mason made you smile, Mason treated you well and always put you first, and when you realized that, you also realized that you never put him first. And you never would.
You were working so hard at work to get the job the company was offering in Australia that it wouldn't be fair to him ‘cause you wouldn't be able to give him what he deserves if you had to move. 
Mason didn't accept staying away, so he said he didn't care if you didn't give a name to what you had. You weren't just friends but you weren't dating either, you knew his parents but not as his girlfriend, and Mason accompanied you everywhere just as... someone you were sleeping with. That was it.
For months it was like this. It was your house that Mason went to after games, it was you he called when he lost a game and wanted comfort from someone he loved or when they won and he wanted to celebrate with someone. You, always you, no one else. 
Mason loved you so much that he felt his heart jump with joy every time someone said your name or when he saw a message from you on his phone. Everyone thought you were his girlfriend, but Mason was too embarrassed to tell you that you weren't his girlfriend. Even he couldn't understand what was going on between you, so imagine telling others.
But your time was limited, and everyone knew it.
Almost a year later you received the proposal you had dreamed of for so long, and you were so happy that the idea of ​​leaving England wasn't scary at all, it was wonderful. You only told your parents at first, then Aimee ten days before you left. 
You didn't know how to tell him that you were moving, especially since you knew Mason wouldn't handle it very well. He was injured and had some problems with his Chelsea contract, and Mason was looking to you every day for comfort to feel good. 
He found out before you could tell him, and only because you left the plane ticket where he could see it, but it wasn't intentional, you just forgot to put it away. You still remember his face when Mason turned to you with the ticket in his hand, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized the argument was closer than you thought.
“Why do you have a plane ticket to Australia?” He asked quietly, but deep down you knew Mason knew what it meant. 
You couldn't lie to him anymore and you had to be honest, no matter how much it hurt.
“Cause I’m moving to Australia” Mason looked at the paper in his hand once more, probably wanting to see the date. The day you would leave.
“In ten days?” You just nodded, sighing when you saw Mason’s lip tremble. He put the paper back where he had found it and stared at you. “And when were you going to tell me? When you were getting on the plane?”
“I was planning on telling you right away, you weren't supposed to find out like this.” 
“It wouldn't hurt any less if you had told me sooner. How long have you known you were moving?”
“Almost two months” Mason agreed and you could see a piece of his heart break, then another and another. “C’mon, let's talk about it.”
You held out your hand to Mason, but he didn't take it and just stood there staring at you. You walked over to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the couch with you. Mason sat on the couch and you knelt on the floor in front of him, resting your arms on his knee as he stared at you in so much pain that you felt your heart clench.
“Mase, you know how much I wanted this job, I worked really hard for this transfer and I finally got it” you explained to him, gently stroking his leg. “Don't be mad at me, but we knew I would have to move if I got the job.”
“It's not that I didn't want you to get the job, I just didn't think it would happen, it seemed so far away and you didn't tell me. I'm the last to know” he spoke, staring at his hands without looking at you, but you brought your hand to his chin and made him look at you. “And we both know that our relationship isn't going to work out.”
“We just don't date because you don't want to, if it were up to me you know you'd be my girlfriend” he spoke softly and you sighed, knowing it was true.
“Mase, I know you have a crush on me and yeah, I have a crush on you but-”
“Y/N, I don’t have a crush on you, I’m in love with you. I love you” he said and you felt your heart race ‘cause you never let Mason confess his feelings to you, and you knew that what he felt was much bigger. “How can you say that I have a crush on you when I've been doing everything for you for almost a year? It's not fair to me.”
“Well, I never asked you to do anything for me. Mason, I'm sorry, but I also never promised to offer you more than I already do” you got up from the floor and sat next to him, but Mason continued to stare at the floor in front of him.
“I love you and I've loved you since before I kissed you for the first time, how funny is that? And even after months of sleeping next to you, having sex, wanting to be good enough for you, you don't feel anything for me? How can you be so cold?” 
“I never wanted this relationship to go ahead ‘cause I always hoped to go to Australia. You've got Chelsea, you've got enough women to last you the rest of your life, live it, Mason.” 
“I don't want any other woman, it's always been you, Y/N. It's always been you, and you acting like it's nothing is what hurts me the most” a tear ran down Mason's face, but he quickly wiped it away, which was in vain because he couldn't stop other tears from falling, and before you knew it Mason was crying, sobbing. “Why are you doing this to me?”
You didn't know how to respond, so you stayed silent as you watched Mason cry. And the scene was sad, because there was nothing you could do to comfort him, what was done was done.
“I will wait for you to come back” he whispered, and then turned his face to look at you.
“Mason, that’s the point. I don’t know if I will ever come back. What if I like Australia? Or if I find someone there?” At that moment Mason felt like he was going to have a panic attack, and he was sure he was running out of air to breathe. “Go and live your life and forget about me, that's what I'm asking.”
“I can’t do this, Y/N. I can’t. I love you and I have loved you since I was eighteen, how can you ask me to forget you? How can you ask me to forget you after sharing so much of myself with you?” He stood up, putting his hands in his hair and breathing quickly.
“Don't forget me then, but I won't promise you that I'll come back.” 
“How can you pretend you don't feel anything for me? You can confess it, no one has to know.” 
“Because I don’t love you back.” You said it, and even Mason knew it was a lie, but it still hurt.
“You do. Don’t lie. If you don’t love me you shouldn’t act like you do” he said between sobs. “Don’t do this to me, please. I’m begging you to stay.”
“I already made my decision long ago, you're not going to change that Mason” you spoke with a lump in your throat, wanting to cry but refusing to cry in front of him and making things more difficult. 
“Just say you love me back” he begged, and Mason looked like the saddest man you'd ever seen.
“I'm not going to say anything ‘cause things can't get any harder than they already are. Everything it's over between us, Mason. In ten days I'm going to Australia and you're going to stay here and conquer the world. Without me.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
Mason sighed as he entered his quiet London flat. It was strange to return to a place that had once been the place he considered home, but now London was no longer his home, and neither was Manchester. 
Because the place Mason considered home for a long time was in Australia, and now it was someone else's home.
Mason was going crazy and he was sure of it, but he swears that when he threw himself on the bed where you used to lie he smelled your perfume. That's where Mason broke down.
“Why did you do this to me, Y/N?” He spoke to himself, closing his eyes and feeling the tears run down his neck ‘cause he was lying down. A sob escaped his lips, it was the first time he had cried since the last time he saw you and Mason realized that he didn't know how to deal with the things that were happening in his life.
His contract with Chelsea ended and Mason joined Manchester United, but he was far from a happy man. Even with so many insults and threats, he didn't cry once, and every smile he gave when he went to Manchester United was fake. 
Mason was just surviving and doing whatever he was told to do, ‘cause all his thoughts were about you, from the moment he woke up in the morning until the time he lay down to sleep. 
And Mason even had the false idea that you were also thinking about him, but no, because now you have a boyfriend. Mason feels his own body heat up with anger when he thinks about another man touching you, kissing you in the same way he did. 
Mason's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he sighed because he didn't want to look at the message. And it was something that had become a habit for him, if no message was from you, why would he be excited to receive one?
But he still picked up his phone to check and was not at all surprised to see Aimee's message.
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Mason threw his phone on the mattress, looking around the room and seeing that you hadn't left anything there, not even a sock, and it was as if you had never entered that room. 
The worst part is that every time Mason saw Aimee he remembered that you two were always together too, because you were like twins, you were always together and did the same things. He also heard that you and Aimee had a falling out over your decision to move to Australia, but had talked things through before you traveled.
Y/N has a new boyfriend. Declan's voice crossed Mason's mind again, and that phrase had been haunting him ever since he heard it. 
Mason knew you loved him, he could see it in the touches, the looks and even the secrets you shared with each other. You were too stubborn to tell him that, and Mason knew it wasn't fair to ask you to give up on a dream, but he wished he could have heard at least once the three words he always wanted to hear from your lips. Just once was enough, because then Mason would know that all those months together had been worth it.
Mason can't understand how you don't miss him, someone you shared everything with until months ago and now he's a stranger. How can you not miss him when Mason has been missing you even when he's sleeping? Don't you miss him when you're taking a shower with your new boyfriend? The thought makes Mason want to vomit.
But now you have a boyfriend and it's him you say I love you to, it's him who asks to hold your hand, it's him who admires you sleeping.
Mason didn't know it was possible to feel so jealous of someone while having a broken heart. It's been five months since you left and Mason feels like his heart hurts more every day, and he doesn't know how long it will take for him to heal.
He needs to forget you ‘cause you've definitely already forgotten him, but he doesn't know how. Mason discovered that he needs you the same way he needs air to breathe. 
But you moved on and Mason moved on with a broken heart, in a helpless state, and even though he'll never open up to anyone the way he did to you, at some point that pain has to pass.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹ 3 months later ✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“No, I didn't forget the dress, mum” you said in a phone call walking through the London airport while talking to your mother. She was traveling to Ireland and wouldn't be back until next week, so you were alone for the next few days. “Yes, I will wait for you to come back, you know I will stay in England for twenty days. I know. Yes, I will. Bye, I love you too.”
You almost groaned at the amount of people walking around London airport, and it would be much harder to find Aimee than you thought. After eight months, you are back in the rainy, cold weather of England, and you missed it so much that you felt like you could cry at any moment.
Aimee and Henry's wedding is in three days, and that's why you've brought yourself back to England, ‘cause you wouldn't miss it for anything. 
Australia is a great place to live and you love your job there, you've made some friends but... Australia is not London. 
“Y/N!” You heard Aimee's voice before you even saw her, and your eyes filled with tears when you saw her waiting for you at the airport exit. It was like a scene from a movie, but you ran and hugged each other while you cried.
“How can you go and live far away from me? My God, I hate you, I was dying missing you” she cried, and you didn't let go of each other for long minutes. “Did you miss me?”
“Of course I missed you” you wiped the tear from your tear-streaked face, and it was impossible to stop smiling when you knew you were home again. “You look so beautiful. How is everyone? Are you looking forward to the wedding?”
“I can't believe I'm without my best friend when I get married, let's start there. And yes, everyone is fine, everyone is excited to see you again” you and Aimee walked towards the airport exit carrying your bags, and the reception you received was heavy rain at the exit. Nothing better than being in England.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“I heard you have a boyfriend in Australia” Henry said with a smirk on his mouth, and you blushed. “Why didn't you bring him?”
“First, we’re just having sex, he’s not my boyfriend. Second, why would I bring him to your wedding?” You put a piece of pizza in your mouth, wanting to ignore what they were talking about. 
Josh wasn't really your boyfriend, you worked together and enjoyed being together, but he was in love with someone else and you knew it, so you never wanted anything from him. Your heart was only half in Australia too.
“And what was that photo you posted on Instagram months ago?” Aimee asked and you looked angry at her. They were nosy and wouldn't change.
“He mentioned me in his stories, what could I do?” You shrugged it off, because it really wasn't that big of a deal.
“Everyone saw it” Henry said, and he emphasized when he said “everyone”. 
You looked at him and thought of Mason. In fact, Mason hadn't left your thoughts for months, he was what you thought about twenty-four hours a day. You looked at the table without looking at the two of them, and even though you didn't want to show that you cared about Mason, they were able to read your face like a book.
“You know he's coming to the wedding, right?” Aimee asked and you agreed. “It's the international break and he has a few days off, he'll be in London during those days.” 
“I know.” 
You were nervous about seeing Mason again after so long, even more because you left without saying what he wanted so bad to hear. 
It wasn't fair to confess your feelings when you were moving to the other side of the world. It wasn't fair to him and it wasn't fair to you, that's why even after so many months with him and knowing how much he loved you, you refused to tell him how you felt about him, because you knew it would be worse.
Deep down you know that if he brings someone else it will hurt, but you can't feel hurt when it was your decision. Maybe, just maybe, if Mason is over you it means that going back to Australia and moving on is the best option, even if you feel incomplete. 
God, it's so hard to love someone and want to do the right thing.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Should I wear red lingerie?” Aimee asked and you looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You’re not supposed to have sex until the wedding” you looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring your bare legs in the long-sleeved black dress. “Do I look hotter or is it just me?”
“You are hot, baby.” 
You and Aimee are getting ready for her bachelorette party at a club in London, one you used to go to as teenagers. She's invited her bridesmaids and other friends, and it's sure to be an amazing night.
You can't believe your best friend is getting married. 
The club was full of people, the music was lively and soon you found the place reserved for Aimee's bachelor party, because there were balloons, glitter, feathers and lots of pink and white.
In Australia you made some friends but it was different being with the people you grew up with, who know you inside out and like the same things as you. 
Aimee cried every fifteen minutes when she remembered that she was going to marry the love of her life in two days, and in the end someone always cried with emotion with her. She and Henry loved each other since they met, it was incredible to see how well they worked together, how much Henry treated her well or did everything for her.
You always wanted someone like that by your side.
As you watched Aimee talk to Kylie, probably about the wedding or about Henry, you remembered that you had a person like that for you.
And you ruined everything. 
You felt your heart skip a beat when you thought about Mason again, and even after the drinks you had already had, you felt sad when you remembered that besides pushing Mason out of your life, you were also alone.
A few months ago, before you moved, you asked your mother how she knew that Richard, your stepfather, was the right person for her. She and your father had a bad marriage and she was not happy, and you and your sister suffered the consequences of that failed marriage, but with Richard she was glowing with happiness.
“It needs to be someone special.” 
Someone who doesn't argue with you, someone who celebrates the little things, someone who makes you happy most days. Happiness isn't eternal but it's moments, and if someone makes you sad more than happy, there's something wrong.
You had someone special, and you realized it when you stared into that empty, silent apartment in Australia, far from everyone you love. 
You were lost in thought, but you came back to reality when Aimee screamed and pointed behind you, and then you heard male laughter.
A laugh that you could recognize anywhere.
You smelled Mason's scent before you even saw him and your legs went weak as you realized what was happening. 
“Hi boys” Aime squealed, cheering as Henry walked up to her and kissed her in front of everyone, causing the girls to clap. You’d have smiled if you weren't feeling Mason's gaze on your back.
It was ridiculous that you were afraid to turn around and look at him, but you were scared to death. You turned so you could look at his face, even if it was the only time that night. You couldn't help yourself ‘cause you needed to look at him, so you turned around.
You met his eyes before you could react, because you knew he was watching you, his gaze heavy on your back. His face was serious now, and the worst thing was that you noticed that his eyes no longer had that sparkle they had when you were together.
You were the one most to blame for this.
You couldn't look away from him but you couldn't say anything either, you were just taken out of your thoughts and had to look to your side when Declan shouted when he saw you. You smiled at your friend, happy to see him, because Declan was your family too.
“Hello, D” you hugged him, closing your eyes and feeling emotional. You don't know how you managed to go so many months without seeing them. “How are you?”
“I'm fine. And you? Did you realize that England is your place?” Lauren walked over and Declan wrapped his arms around her neck. “This woman has been talking about you every day since you moved in, I couldn't take it anymore.”
“That’s not true” she complained and rolled her eyes smiling, because Lauren was also one of your best friends. “By the way, we missed you, Y/N.”
Mason was standing in the same spot and you finally turned to him after talking to Declan, and you almost rolled your eyes when you saw them all move away purposefully. It was like seeing a ray of sunshine after a storm, and you felt like nothing else mattered when Mason had his eyes on you like you were the only woman in the room.
It was ridiculous to try to explain how handsome Mason looked. He was wearing black pants, a black men's tank top, a white wool coat and Converse. 
“Hello Mason” you said, and even with the loud music he would hear, because it seemed like there were only the two of you there. 
Mason scratched his throat before answering you, he seemed as nervous as you were, and deep down, you were glad for that.
“Hello” he mumbled but you could read his lips. Oh, how you missed his voice.
You took a step towards him, ignoring that everyone was looking at you, and you were lost with the Mason colony around you. 
“You good?” You asked and Mason just nodded, but then Reece appeared hugging Mason by the neck and breaking the bad mood between you. He was drunk and you noticed, he was laughing at nothing and holding onto Mason. You smiled, because you had missed him too. 
“Oh, did you remember you have friends?” You rolled your eyes and hugged him, feeling Mason's gaze on you. “I missed you, Y/N.” 
“I missed you so much, Reece. There is no one like you in Australia.”
“Mason missed you too, but he doesn't tell anyone” Reece whispered in your ear and you smiled, not looking at Mason so he wouldn't realize his friend was talking about him, but before you could do anything, Mason left and went to Declan and Lauren. “He's been a complicated boy these past few months.”
“I fucked up with him and he hates me now” and it was true, Mason probably started to despise you after you were such a bitch to him. 
“He loves you, but he is so stubborn ‘cause you hurt him.”
Mason was now on his back, and God, you just wanted to hug him and feel safe again as you felt his arms around you. 
Mason ignored you perfectly for a long time, you couldn't get close to him and you didn't know how either. Was it fair to want to talk to him and then leave again? Maybe Mason is just protecting his own heart because you already broke his heart once, it's not right to break his heart again after so many months.
Henry said that he had decided to come to the same club as Aimee ‘cause he wanted to have fun with her and the boys, and you smiled at his confession. Aimee knew he was coming and hadn't told you anything, who thought it would be a girls' night. 
“Where's your boyfriend, Y/N?” Declan asked hours later when you were both sitting on the beanbags, the music lower now and you could talk without shouting. 
Before you could answer Mason stood up, saying he was going to get a drink from the bar even though the table was full of drink options. You looked at him disappointed ‘cause you wanted to be able to talk to him or tell him that you don't have a boyfriend, and he preferred to leave than hear you talk about another man.
“Our boy Mason is jealous” Reece laughed and you decided to go after Mason, without answering Declan's question.
It wasn't hard to find Mason, he sat in one of the chairs at the counter and had his back to you, so you quickly sat next to him. He noticed when you sat down next to him but didn't say anything, just continued to stare at the untouched drink in front of him. 
“Running away is not something you usually do” you said and Mason finally looked at you, raising his eyebrows.
“I used to do a lot of things that I don't do anymore” not that you deserve Mason being rude, but it's clear that Mason still resents you. 
“And that's why I know things between us aren't resolved yet” you saw Mason sigh, and you wanted so much to be able to hug him, but if you asked him to he would probably run away from you.
“Yes, everything is resolved. We resolved it when you decided to leave” Mason held the glass and threatened to get up, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving. “Please let me go, don't make me suffer again.”
“I don't want to make you suffer, Mason, I just want to talk to you for a while” you practically begged him, but Mason was still trying to pull away from you. 
“Talk about what? About how my life went to shit after you left? That I was here suffering while you started a new life in fucking Australia? You wanna know about that to laugh at me because I was an idiot?” 
“Don’t do that, please” you whispered, because Mason had no idea how much you suffered away from him. You never told him, of course he doesn't know.
“I gave my all to you, Y/N, and that's the worst ‘cause I still love you so much that my heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest” he said looking at you and you felt your own hands tremble, Mason always had that effect on you. “You can't just leave and come back wanting to talk to me like everything is fine, because it's not.”
“Please don't act like it wasn't difficult for me too” You felt your eyes water and Mason shook his head in disbelief.
Because it was really difficult. You spent weeks thinking if you did the right thing, if leaving everything in England was the best option, if ending the best thing that had ever happened to you was the best choice, and there was only one answer in your head. 
“Yeah, I know. By the way, where's your boyfriend? Is that why your life was hard in Australia?” Mason asked and drank all the last drink he had ordered. “I went to hell after you moved out, and while you were there enjoying your new life I stayed here because I was dropped off without notice. Don't feel rejected because I don't want you to fuck me again, you rejected me first.”
Mason turned his back and left the club without saying goodbye, leaving you alone with the guilt and regret consuming you.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
You took at least five deep breaths before ringing the bell on the white door in front of you. You also don't know how or why, but your fingerprint was still registered at the entrance to the building where Mason has a flat in London, and after convincing Aimee to tell you if he was there, she finally said yes. 
You regretted it the second you rang the doorbell, especially since it was only seven thirty in the morning, but you had been up all night and would go crazy if you didn't go there. You raised your finger to press the doorbell again but heard a grumble coming from the other side of the door, and you hated yourself ‘cause you probably woke Mason up.
He opened the door wearing only underwear and a crumpled face. You swallowed hard.
“Y/n?” He spoke in a hoarse voice, and before he could tell you to leave, you entered the apartment cause you needed to talk to him. “Is there something wrong?”
Mason closed the door and looked at you, waiting for you to answer. You took another deep breath, but it still wasn't enough to make you less nervous.
“It was difficult for me too, it still is” Mason raised his eyebrow. “Don't think that just because I never said what you wanted to hear, I didn't feel anything, I just knew that our time together had an end date and there was nothing to change that.”
“Look, I don’t want to-”
“You’re gonna listen to me, Mason” you stopped Mason from speaking, and then he kept looking at you. “It's not fair for you to say that I didn't suffer, because no one was in Australia with me to know that, you don't know how many nights I cried on the phone with Aimee wanting to give up everything to go back to England and to you.”
“And I don't care if you think I don't care about you, but know that you were one of the best things that ever happened to me and you can't treat me badly like you treated me yesterday, it's not fair to me either” you stopped for two seconds to breathe, and Mason looked at you without saying anything. “You know how much I always wanted this job, Mason, and you can't imagine how much it hurts me to realize that I'm gone and I was much happier here than I am in Australia.”
A tear fell from your face and you wiped it away, Mason brought his hands to his face and sighed, taking a step towards you, but you stopped him from getting closer. 
“I'm not here to ask you for forgiveness, I just needed to say a few things.”
And you were gone as quickly as you arrived, leaving Mason and his own thoughts alone.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
Mason felt like shit for the rest of the day, mainly ‘cause he knew he treated you badly. The problem is that Mason gave you everything, and when he least expected it, you broke his heart into pieces.
Those were terrible months, Mason was training, he was irritated with everyone and especially on the field, which caused him to be sent off and made the coach discuss with him. Mason spent months without sleeping through the night, got drunk at every party he went to, and even spent weeks without talking to his own family so no one would ask about you.
Aimee and Henry's wedding is tomorrow and Mason would rather be anywhere but there. He can't even imagine what it's going to be like to see you so beautiful and in a relationship with another man who's oceans away, but Mason knows it's going to be very difficult.
“Why do you have such a shitty face?” Declan asked as he took the beer Mason handed him, and Mason had been quiet for minutes while they were watching an old football match that was on the television.
“Y/N came here this morning” Mason spoke softly and threw himself onto the couch, sighing as he remembered the words you spoke to him. “I feel like shit again, bro.”
“You've been feeling like shit for eight months, my friend” Mason rolled his eyes, but he couldn't disagree. You came back and turned over all the feelings that Mason thought were gone, when in fact they were stored and emerged to squeeze his heart again.
And he knows that in a few days you'll be gone again, he knows it'll be shit again and it'll be another eight months to forget everything. 
“I feel like we haven't ended things between us yet, but I'm not ready for that. Man, I love her so much, she's gonna kill me again” Mason confessed, and for months he hadn't talked about you to anyone but Aimee. His mother would always ask, but Mason wouldn't talk about it to her, or anyone else. 
The funniest thing was that even the fans said that there was something wrong with Mason, but he always said that everything was fine while putting that sadness deeper in his heart. 
“Don't let her bring you down again then” Declan said it like it was obvious, but it was easy for him because he had Lauren, Jude and he was happy.
“It's not that simple.” 
“Make it so.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“You look so pretty, I'm gonna ruin my makeup from crying this much” you said as you shook your eyes to stop crying as you looked at Aimee in the wedding dress. “I have never seen such a beautiful bride.”
“Please, stop, you're making me emotional and I can't cry” Aimee said looking at the ceiling, and then you approached and hugged her, saying once again how beautiful she was. “You look beautiful too, that color looks wonderful on you.”
“I know, I really look good in blue” you joked, and she laughed as the two of you checked to make sure everything was ready for Aimee to get married. “Let's check if we have everything.”
Aimee agreed and went to the window to see the place where the ceremony was taking place. All the guests were already there and in a few minutes it would be her turn. The day was beautiful, and everything was perfect. You walked over to the window, looking down at where the guests were sitting, and even without meaning to, your gaze quickly found the person who had been your thoughts for months.
Mason was laughing with Declan and Reece, and he had no way of seeing you there but you could even see his eyes closing as he laughed. He looked so happy, he didn't look like the same sad-hearted man you'd met two days ago, and for a moment you felt good that Mason was smiling.
“Did you talk to him?” Aimee asked, and you nodded.
“He hates me” you shrugged because it's the truth. 
“He doesn't hate you, don't be silly, Mason loves you so much, he just didn't know how to deal with you leaving.” 
“It doesn't matter now” you wiped away a tear and turned to Aimee, smiling at her. “So, something old?”
“My grandmother's earrings” Aimee pointed to her grandmother's gold earrings, and they really were beautiful. 
“Something new?”
“My dress.”
“Something borrowed?”
“My shoe.”
“Something blue?”
“The sexy lingerie I'm wearing underneath.”
“Oh, spare me the details” you rolled your eyes, and then smiled nervously ‘cause the time was finally coming. Aimee's father came in to call her and you finally left, but not before wishing her good luck.
You went down to where the ceremony would be and greeted a few people, some surprised and happy that you were back in England. Lauren waved and called you over, so you quickly walked over to her, sighing because Mason was there too. You felt your hands sweat as you walked down the hallway, as well as your heart racing.
“Hey guys” you said and almost groaned when you saw that the empty seat Lauren had saved was next to Mason. “Is this place for me?”
Mason looked at you and you almost forgot how to walk, because he had this effect on you, making you nervous with just a look. He was so handsome, he looked like he was ready for his own wedding. You quickly looked away from him, but Mason didn't stop looking at you for a second.
“Sure” Lauren smiled and you wanted to kill her. You sat next to Mason, controlling your breathing, and even so he didn't stop looking at you, leaving you blushing. 
“You're drooling man, control yourself” Reece spoke softly to Mason, and Mason cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, making RJ laugh. You were talking to Lauren because you had nothing to talk about with Mason, but his cologne was all around you, making you drunk by the smell of the perfume he had been using for years. 
Everyone cried or got emotional when Aimee walked in, especially Henry who cried like a baby when he saw her walking towards him. You and Lauren were almost sobbing throughout the ceremony, and Declan was already laughing at you. 
When they said their vows was when you and Mason looked at each other, and a racing heart because of his deep gaze on you made you come closer and hold his arm, leaning your face against his suit in a loving way, and it was the closest to love you had come in eight months.
Because Mason means love to you, and not even so many months apart have changed that.
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“I'm nervous, I forgot the speech paper” you whispered to Anthony, Aimee's brother, and he shrugged with a laugh.
“Not my problem, Y/N, I've already said my speech.”
“Okay, I can do this” you took a deep breath and he helped you climb onto a chair. Everyone had already eaten dinner and everything was so spectacular, it would be a wonderful night for your best friend. 
You trembled as you saw all the eyes on you, but you held the microphone and smiled to pretend you weren't nervous.
“I wrote some words on a piece of paper but I forgot the paper at home, so I'll have to improvise, I hope the bride and groom don't mind” everyone laughed at what you said and you felt your cheeks heat up, speaking in public wasn't very easy, speaking at a wedding was even worse. “I remember the day Aimee came to me when we were in college a few years ago and said she met the coolest guy in the world and I said "impossible, no man is the coolest in the world" and yet she said he was.” 
“In fact Henry, you proved that you are really a very nice guy and Aimee was right, ‘cause she shines when she looks at you, just like we can see in your eyes how much you love her. I could tell you all about some of the embarrassing moments of the two of them, but I prefer to talk about love cause I think everyone would like to hear it.”
“I once asked my mom how she knew my stepdad was the right person for her and she told me it had to be someone special. It's a person who doesn't mind being silent by your side because they know that everything is fine even without talking. It's someone who makes you happy just by remembering that person for a minute of the day or the whole day. It's someone who doesn't judge you, doesn't embarrass you or devalue what you feel.”
Even without wanting to, your gaze fell on Mason, and he was staring at you on top of that chair with a microphone in your hand. He was paying attention to every word that came out of your mouth and you almost lost focus because it hurt so much knowing that you would never have him in your life again.
“You two are each other's special person. I'm sure everyone here has someone special, and it's worth dropping everything when you know you have someone by your side to love you and go through everything with you, because that's how love works.”
Your eyes filled with tears and you had to stop looking at Mason ‘cause even he got teary-eyed listening to you. You looked at Aimee and she was crying and trying not to ruin her makeup as she ran her hand over her eyes, and Henry next to her smiled as he wiped a tear that ran down his face too. 
You also had to wipe away the tear that ran down your face. 
“Here's to Aimee and Henry. May their lives be wonderful” you raised your glass of champagne and everyone raised their own, toasting to their new life together. Anthony helped you down from the chair and you quickly went to your seat, but in reality you wanted to go out and cry.
Mason didn't take his eyes off you and you started to feel suffocated, especially since he hadn't even wanted to come near you for two days and he still left you in pieces when you tried to talk to him.
“I've never heard such beautiful words, Y/N” Aimee Aimee hugged you and you smiled, still with tears in your eyes. “Thank you for coming, thank you for being my best friend. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Aim.”
You didn't even make it to the table because everyone stopped to congratulate you on your beautiful speech, and when you finally got there, Mason was no longer there. 
“Where is he?” you asked RJ, and he said that Mason had gone to the bathroom, before anyone could stop you again, you went to look for him. 
You waited a few minutes before Mason came out of the bathroom and saying that he was surprised to see you waiting for him was nothing new. You stared at each other for a few seconds before another guy came out of the bathroom and you and Mason had to break contact, so you pulled him by the hand and walked down the hallway until you found another door. 
Mason didn't say anything as he followed you, and when you saw that it was a warehouse and there was no one there, you went in and pulled Mason with you, pushing him against the wall.
“I love you” you whispered and Mason's eyes widened, shocked because he finally heard the three words he wanted to hear so much. Maybe it was too late and you would never be together again, but at least you got your feelings off your chest and told Mason. “Oh my God, I love you.”
“What?” Mason put his hand over his mouth, not wanting to show his smile, but he was smiling so much it was impossible to hide it. “I didn't hear.”
“I love you, I love you, I love-.” You had never felt such relief when Mason reached out and pulled your mouth against his.
Kissing Mason is like Christmas morning, or the morning of your birthday or the birthday of someone you love. Feeling Mason's arms is like feeling like nothing in the world can bring you down ‘cause you have someone protecting you from everything and ready to fight with you. 
“Does he ask to hold your hand?” Mason whispered and then kissed you again, and you couldn't respond because you were busy feeling the wonderful taste of his lips. “I bet he doesn't kiss you like I do.” 
Mason held you with both hands on your neck, and then he brought his hand to the back of your neck and grabbed your hair, making you pull your mouth away from his and look at him.
Why did he have to be so handsome?
And that stupid blond hair, that made you want to take his clothes off completely.
The look on your face was probably desperate with desire ‘cause Mason smiled and ran his tongue over his lips, staring at your mouth. 
“No” you confessed, feeling Mason smile. “You're the only one who knows how to touch me and how to love me.”
Mason smiled when you responded and pulled your mouth against his once more, wrapping his arm around your neck and holding you against him. It was okay, you didn't want to be anywhere else but in his arms.
Mason pushed you against the wall and you gasped ‘cause his body against yours gave you protection. How did you manage to go so many months without him? You only knew one home, and that was next to Mason. 
You'll never be able to live in Australia alone again. 
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
“Are you ready for a wedding?” Mason asked as he kissed your skin, and he whispered it because of the blue panties you were wearing. You weren't discreet when you left the wedding together and you heard your friends cheering when they saw you get into Mason's car, and you hadn't been able to stop smiling for hours, ever since he kissed you for the first time. “Something blue…”
You sighed as Mason showered you with kisses, you were numb with his body on top of yours. You didn't know how much you had missed this, these moments with Mason where you completed each other like soulmates, because only he knew how to drive you crazy. 
“There is still something borrowed and something old missing” you said, closing your eyes and bringing your hands to Mason's hair. His breath was on your groin and you almost moaned, because you were tired but you needed Mason so much that you felt like you were going to explode. “But we can think about it.”
“I don't want you to think about anything but me right now, love.”
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
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It's been a month since you got back to Australia and you and Mason have been trying to keep things at arm's length, but it's really hard because when you're waking up, Mason's going to sleep or when you're working, Mason's waking up.
But ever since you set foot in England again, you knew that this was where you belonged, and when you returned to Australia, you didn't think twice when you asked for a transfer again.
Your boss agreed and said that you could get the same position in England, but you would have to wait a few weeks for all the paperwork to be ready. No one knew you were  coming back because it would be a surprise to both Mason and his mom or his friends.
And at that moment you were at Manchester airport ‘cause the first place you were going was home. Mason. You don't even know if he's at home, if he's training, he might even be with someone else there and you feel like you might faint when you think about it.
It's already getting dark and cold, but you’re at an Uber with the only two suitcases of stuff you'd taken to Australia with you. The car dropped you off in front of Mason's house and if you weren't so nervous you would roll your eyes at the size of the place. 
You rang the bell at the gate and after a few rings you heard a bark and raised your eyebrows, because you didn't know Mason had a dog. 
“Hello?” His voice was hoarse and you almost cried, you were missing him so much it was making you sick.
“Hi, were you the one who asked for a girlfriend?” you were smiling and everything was silent for a few seconds until you saw the door to the house open quickly. Mason ran barefoot on the wet grass and you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your face. 
“What the fuck? Are you insane?” Mason pulled you against him, lifting you off the ground as you jumped against him and wrapping your legs around his hips. “I thought you were in Australia, my god I missed you so much. I love you, I love you” Mason whispered and squeezed you, without letting you go. 
“I love you, I'll never leave, never again” you cried as you hugged him, trying to hold onto Mason everywhere so he would never let you go again. “You are my home Mason, I'm sorry for everything, I know I don't deserve it but I just want to be with you forever.”
“I can't believe you're back, I'm dreaming” Mason finally let go of you and put you on the ground, then he pulled you in and kissed you after more than a month away from your lips. “You're still going to kill me by doing these things to me.”
Mason pulled your bags and pointed to the entrance of the house, and you walked as he pulled your things. You stopped when a puppy ran out of the house towards you, and you bent down to pet it.
“Oh my God, we already have a child?” you joked and Mason just smiled and crouched down to be close to you. The puppy jumped on your legs and then ran to Mason, who petted his fur.
“This is Ace, he’s a boy and he has been my new company since you left me alone.”
“Ahh, poor boy, he had to put up with you crying for long weeks.”
“His mommy is home now” you stood up and looked at Mason, kissing him once more. 
“My home is wherever you are.”
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bitegore · 10 months
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Zionists want you to conflate Judaism and Zionism. Zionists want you to believe that Judaism cannot exist without Zionism and that all Jews are Zionists. Zionism would have Jews believe that a Jewish state is the only way that they can be safe from antisemitism and will point to any instance of antisemitism as proof that Zionism is the solution- so Zionism wants gentiles to be antisemitic in their support of Palestine. They want you to conflate all Jews with Zionism and the state of Israel, and they want you to treat all Jews regardless of political affiliation as the face of Israel. Antizionist Jews exist, and incidences of antisemitism ostensibly acting against Zionism will not help dismantle the forces propping Zionism up.
Don't do their work for them.
#red rambles#viva palestina#antizionism#i haven't actually seen a lot of antisemitism personally. not recently anyway. but that's more a feature of me not following antisemites#i DO however see a lot of people talking about the people they're seeing throw their support behind antisemites using palestine#as an excuse to conflate all jews with israel#and i cannot stress enough that that is literally what israel and zionist forces abroad WANT.#i am jewish. my entire family is jewish. i want to see palestine free. and i have SEEN how the jewish community gets conflated with israel#both from the inside and out#and i am dead serious when i say that every time someone is antisemitic it strengthens the conviction from people abroad#that it's a terrible sad situation but there's 'no other choice'#if you're being antisemitic you are doing the enemy's work for them. Stop it.#like... look. i am putting this in the tags bc im talking in the tags but i mean this. I do not give a single flying fuck if you personally#are a giant raging antisemite at the moment. Your personal beliefs are your problem and not mine. I do not fucking care. But if you are#being openly and loudly antisemitic *in your support of palestine* you are absolutely not fucking helping. I am so dead serious right now#if you want to raise awareness and you're being antisemitic because of deep held beliefs or whatever i want you to look around and read the#fucking room. Do you understand how much of Israel's international support comes from the idea that they are the only country where jews ar#safe from antisemitism? do you see how every time palestine comes up people point at incidences of antisemitism in anti-genocide actions to#discredit the entire movement? do you not understand how your actions are cutting the movement down at the knees?#i'm jewish and proud of it. i don't like antisemitism. but there's a genocide on and i'd rather work against it than quibble over who i#work alongside. i dont fucking care. you can be as antisemitic as you like in private. stop fucking the movement up.#there are bigger things to worry about here. if i can put aside my own concerns as to who i'm talking to you can hold your tongue#and fight the good fight instead of handing weapons to the people who are trying to fucking flatten gaza.
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yuridovewing · 7 months
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As a fellow Dovewing lover, it's frustrating how the fandom watered her down into a whiny brat who never cared about Ivypool. I mean, seriously? Not only did Dovewing care about her sister (reacting in horror when Lionblaze, her own mentor and Jayfeather are willing to potentially sacrifice Ivypool's safety by employing her as her spy instead of trying to get her out of the Dark Forest's clutches, hiding a thorn in her nest to cover for her scarring from her training).
Heck, even the scene where she tries to feed Ivypool her catch during a hunting patrol was demonized because 'she was trying to make Ivypool break the code like SHE does, as if it doesn't matter' and because she got upset when Ivypool started arguing with her! But you guys said she didn't care, right? Plus, people act like being forced into a prophecy is something you should be grateful for, as if it didn't irreparably change her close relationship with her sister? As if Lionblaze and Jayfeather didn't still keep her out of the loop (and for all the fussing they made about keeping it a secret, Lionblaze confesses his power to Cinderheart and Jayfeather doesn't even care).
Meanwhile Nightheart is angry he isn't orange and hates his mom for being exiled and the whole world has to stop for him. 🤪 And Bramblestar is simply so tortured by having an evil father, the only choice is to train with him and his evil half-brother and hide this from his wife! (But remember, it's bad when that witch Squirrelflight hides the parentage of the three from him, even when Blackstar and Leopardstar were still around after being complicit in the torture and killing of halfclan cats.) Why are these male characters sympathized with, even when they actively harm people (Nightheart forcing himself into Sunbeam's life by lying to everyone about being her mate without even asking her if she would be fine with that beforehand), Bramblestar (we all know what he does), but when Dovewing or any other female character is upset, people freak out and call them whiny brats or abusive for (checks notes) asking her partner if he loves her anymore after they argued multiple times in a book. Really makes you think! (Sorry this is so long, you just have based opinions!)
dovewing being characterized as this flighty airheaded vain popular girl stereotype in fanon is like. one of those biggest "we didnt actually read the books" things in the fandom. like theres so much fanart where shes grinning and giggling over the prophecy and shes besties with the trio and shes got preferential treatment, and then in the actual books shes basically the autistic kid no one actually likes. people really, REALLY overexaggerate that one scene where she snaps at ivypaw and brags. (and i dont wanna shit on amvs but i am forever side eying how the animation community handled dove back in the day. more than one person animated her getting murdered. normal.)
i do think its gotten better recently at least. but wow does it feel like at least one person on the writing team has a bone to pick
(also awww thank you <3 no need to be sorry i love getting stuff in my inbox)
#it does also feel so insidious to me just how long the bramblesquirrel conflict was painted as ''equally kind of wrong''#the ppl who put words in squilfs mouth sometimes which. btw ill get to that when i read the book#and tbf part of it is that sometimes abuse isnt as easy to spot if youre primed to the mainstream version of it#like. bramble isnt a born evil wifebeater everyone can see coming from a mile away. hes a complex guy with his own insecurities#and his own goals and people he openly cares about. and even in some fanon stuff i see ppl kinda erase that part of him#(which i wont pretend im above- ive been trying to walk that line myself)#and that doesnt match how abusers are usually percieved by the public. or in this very series.#like. the main excuse for clear sky is literally ''hes sad his sister died and tried to save her! no one changes THAT much''#anyone can be an abuser. you could be an abuser. i could be an abuser. that doesnt mean that we ARE but we are capable of it#and the thing that catches ppl off guard is that abusers are really good at hiding who they are and theyre often charming#i often hear this account of abuse that goes something like ''my parent abused me but no one believed me bc theyre nice in public''#you dont know whats going on behind closed doors. and ik this is about funny kitties at the end of the day but its quite telling#so... yeah bramble has his nice moments. hes got his GREAT moments even. i love his relationship with his mom for example#but those moments dont mean that hes not capable of being worse. of being a monster to his loved ones#its why squilf keeps getting sucked back in. hes not a one dimensional asshole. hes capable of being kind to her.#and thats what makes his disgusting moments hit so much harder#wow ok i got off topic in the tags but yknow. idk i got feelings abt this matter as someone who's experienced toxic relationships
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sendmyresignation · 9 months
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one of the things about where are your boys tonight i really appreciated and, to me, seemed like the most significant thrust of the book (but never garnered much attention, imo), was the focus on the business side of things and particularly the way the many bands never saw long term success or stability or the way a lot of very young people were taken advantage of even after making their labels and handlers metric butt-tones of money and this really culminated with the discussion about paramores record deal and the inherently coercive nature of making a 14 year old sign a record deal (not even really mentioning that record deal was 20 fucking years lmao) and yet i still see people argue she was an industry plant or whatever. sorry ig one of my fatal flaws is i give child stars the benefit of the doubt considering the fundamental exploitation necessary for that position to exist or whatever
#sorry was thinking about this bc I saw some truly horrible and dismissive posts on twitter about hayleys contract#but i also think it dovetails into the general malaise that existed in the third wave that a lot of places are quick to dismiss#idk. i keep thinking about how so many ppl were taken advantage of (in the sense of predatory contracts or not getting paid victory style)#and how many are stuck in an endless loop of diminishing returns in order to be career musicians who can actually support themselves#and fundamentally this is the key linchpin in the emo nostalgia- some of the btier andlower bands Need stuff like#emo nites or wwwy to actually make a living (no matter how much you make up front a altrock hit single cannot sustain someone as livelihood)#and since touring is the only reliable way to make money. well why put significant expenses into ur new album#none of your fans care about anyway? its a pre-existing cycle. very thrash metal. but its almost worse#when you factor in shit like the fan perception of the used the canyon....#idk ive been thinking about it a lot and i dont find nostalgia circuits reprehensible bc of the fundamental indignities#of the recording industry and all its issues#but its hard to see people shit talk the third wave for being full of impressionable kids hoping to survive of their passion#like you do realize they dont sound like assholes in that circumstance for crashing and burning? right?#(esp when you add mental health and addiction into the mix- these bands were full of sick people being denied care bc it would interfere w/#the 'rawness' or authenticity or whatever the fuck. these bands were having their sadness wrung out of them for money)#anyway i think hayley williams should be allowed to hunt any and all current or former atlantic higherups for sport#my posts
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gor3sigil · 2 months
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Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.
I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.
Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.
I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.
5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.
I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.
I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.
I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.
I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.
I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.
But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.
I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.
It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.
If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.
Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.
It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.
You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.
Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.
Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.
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lymtw · 4 months
Text
Toji invites you over with a simple text of:
You busy tonight, doll?
To which you respond with:
I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?
He laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.
Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?
I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.
You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.
Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.
Drive safe.
Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.
You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.
He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.
Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.
"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.
"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"
"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.
"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.
"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.
"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."
He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.
"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.
You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.
Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".
Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.
"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.
"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.
"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"
You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.
One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.
You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.
You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.
"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.
"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.
"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.
"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"
"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.
"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."
With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.
"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.
Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.
"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.
Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."
Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.
"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"
The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.
Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"
"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"
He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."
You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.
"So?" Toji prompts.
"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.
Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.
"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.
"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.
You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.
"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."
You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.
"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.
"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."
Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.
You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.
This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.
"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.
"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."
He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"
"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.
"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.
"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.
"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.
"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.
"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.
He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.
"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."
"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.
He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.
You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.
You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.
He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.
With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.
"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"
Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.
"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."
Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.
"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.
You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.
"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."
You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.
"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.
"Why not?"
"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."
"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.
"Toji, don't look at me."
"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.
"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.
"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."
"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.
"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.
"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.
"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.
"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."
You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.
"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.
"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.
"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.
"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.
"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."
Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.
Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.
"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.
"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."
Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.
"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."
You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.
"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."
You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."
"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"
You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."
Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.
"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.
Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.
"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.
"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.
"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"
"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.
Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.
"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."
"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."
"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.
Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.
"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.
"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.
"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.
"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.
You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.
There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.
Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.
You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...
"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.
You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.
"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.
Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.
You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.
"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"
You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."
Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."
"So... boring."
"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.
You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."
"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."
You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.
"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.
"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.
"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.
You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.
"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.
"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.
"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. "There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."
"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.
"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."
You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.
He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."
That went out to every version of you.
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whirlybirbs · 7 days
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— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍
summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.
You never did go pro.
Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 
The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:
What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?
How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 
You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 
Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 
You see it differently.
Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 
You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 
You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 
Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.
What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 
Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 
He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 
He isn't a villain-in-training. 
None of them are.
It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 
So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 
You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 
After all, you never did go pro.
And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.
He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 
It was the beginning of the end, then.
His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 
Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.
It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 
Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:
Endeavor's wing. 
There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 
Very different.
Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."
"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"
"Oh, ho, no way!"
Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 
"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"
"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."
It is you.
You look... good. 
Happy. 
You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 
For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.
It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 
"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"
Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.
Shoto is on the move.
The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.
Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 
Shoto Todoroki.
He looks... good. 
Really good.
He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.
For a second, you're seventeen again.
It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.
They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.
There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.
"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 
You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 
Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 
"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"
"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 
"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"
"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.
Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 
"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"
There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 
You're using him as a teaching moment.
Shoto's smile is soft.
You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."
"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"
Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 
You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 
He hangs back. 
He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 
...It's kinda cute.
Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 
Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 
And he deserves to be happy.
Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.
You hang back. 
Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.
"Hey."
"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."
"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."
His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."
You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.
Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."
"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."
"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."
Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 
And the underdog in question can read a room. 
This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.
"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"
You jump.
How long has he even been there?
"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.
"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"
"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."
Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.
"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"
"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."
Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."
"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."
There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 
It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 
"Would you like to—"
"Are you free—"
Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.
"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"
You make yourself available.
Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.
Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 
From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.
"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 
"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 
"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.
"Father was the one who suggested it."
"...That old dog." 
Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"
The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.
Shoto winces.
"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.
"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."
Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.
"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.
Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 
"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."
"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"
"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"
"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."
"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 
"She wants me to call her after—"
"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"
Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.
"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."
Shoto lets out a long breath. 
Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"
"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"
It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."
Easier said than done.
You never did go pro.
Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 
You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.
He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 
Fuyumi's contribution. 
You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.
The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 
It feels like you've been lit on fire.
You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 
Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 
The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.
You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 
For a second, you're seventeen again.
Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 
You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 
A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 
He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 
"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."
Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 
Until this morning, that is. 
You smile into your drink. 
"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.
His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.
"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."
Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."
He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."
The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."
You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.
He notices.
Shoto's face feels hot. 
He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 
Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.
Now, less so. 
It's adorable. 
Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 
While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 
Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.
His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 
His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 
But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 
The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 
It's sweet.
Really sweet. 
The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 
"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.
His hand settles there. 
Your stomach does a flip. 
You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 
Keep it together. 
He isn't seventeen.
He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 
...Right?
Green light.
His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 
The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 
It makes your chest ache.
Shoto swallows thickly.
Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.
He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.
What if you don't want to kiss him?
When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?
Why does he feel like he's going to die?
"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 
"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."
You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."
"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."
"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"
Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."
"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"
"I'm not being weird—"
"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.
"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."
His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 
It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?
Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 
"You don't need to be."
Shoto's breath catches at that.
So, he makes his move.
His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 
Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.
Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 
He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 
The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  
Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 
Then, his eyes stick to your lips.
"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 
You never did go pro.
But, Shoto did. 
It shows. 
Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—
His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 
It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 
And then you whimper. 
It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 
You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.
He needs to slow down.
He is not having sex with you in his father's car.
That's shameless.
He needs to slow down.
He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 
Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 
You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.
It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 
He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 
"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."
A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 
"Are you serious?"
"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.
"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"
Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 
"Are you free this weekend?"
"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."
"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"
"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."
Shoto scoffs. 
Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:
"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."
Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.
Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 
Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 
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gay-dorito-dust · 10 days
Text
Controversial younger s/o things
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Slight mentions of like one nsfw thing, especially for Stanley, it’s not much but still I thought I should say.
Ford worries that he’s far too old for you, but yet is unable to keep his distance from you when you spent every waking moment at the shack with Soos, Wendy, Dipper and Mabel.
He feels like a perv whenever he lets his gaze linger a little too long on you for it to be platonic, yet he could never bring himself to look away as you had him bewitched mind, body and soul for all he knew and he didn’t mind it, even if it did mean he lost sleep dreaming about you being his youthful spouse who often stole his turtlenecks just to get his attention.
He thinks you could be better off with someone your own age, and yet despite believing this, Ford can’t help but harbour this mentality that he could treat you far, far better then anyone your own age. He’d worship the ground you walk on, treat you with respect, dignity and trust.
You’d probably be brought down to the lab quite often per his request. Ford claims he needs your opinion on something but the moment your down there, you’re making out with your back pressed against his workbench as his hands remained above your waist; maybe teasingly trailing to your thighs but still he’s a respective gentleman towards you forever and always.
There the moments you gladly wait all day for moments like these as you got to feel just how badly Ford wanted you in more ways then one ;)
You make out in his bed too but that’s only if you couldn’t make it to the lab, so Ford makes sure to lock the door when you do, for privacy and such.
There’s multiple entries about you and Ford’s conflicted feelings towards you followed with sketches of you looking the most beautiful he’s ever seen you. Seeing you be great and supportive with dipper and Mabel defiantly awakens something in him that he later puts down in the journal.
Will loose it if he ever saw you in his turtleneck, he’s not gods strongest soldier in their regards as he’s more then happy to get on his knees for you right then and there. You in his turtleneck is his secrete fantasy and to see it become reality is enough for this man to believe that there is a heaven.
Stanley feels that you deserve better then him
the girdle stays off! You don’t give a fuck, the girdle stays off and you will fucking hide it from him, much to his dismay but you love his tummy so, so so much!
Heated make outs in el Diablo while on road trips just the two of you at night.
Spoils you rotten however he could in meaningful ways, kinda feels sad that he can’t do more for you like you deserved but you didn’t care as you pepper his face with kisses and reassurance that he’s more then enough for you.
Probs gets jealous of you talking to other older men that has deeper pockets, but is smug as fuck the moment you came back to him with wads of their money in your hands as he pulls you in close by the waist and kisses you firmly on the lips saying, ‘that’s my girl/boy/ spouse.’
You will get love bites from him for making him jealous but also for making him so proud of his gorgeous/handsome/ beautiful spouse. You wear them with pride as you know no one else can elicit the same feeling as Stan did and he’d show off his own love bites with pride as he’s shameless and wants to show that he’s more then taken.
Does get moments of insecurity about your age gap but with a few words of reassurances, kisses and caresses to his body and he’s more than back to being confident of your relationship.
Stan wants you to sit on his lap all of the time, no excuses you’re on his lap and he gets the prettiest view of his unbearably cute spouse as his large hand rubs your thighs, getting progressively closer as to where you needed him most. ;)
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thelostconsultant · 12 days
Text
Not a gold digger
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: Fans think you only want Max's money. But as it turns out, you were wealthy before he came into your life--you just don't make it obvious.
warnings: No smut, but there's a part that makes me say MDNI.
note: So... I'm kinda back? Idk, I'll see if I'll stick around.
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The toxicity of the fandom was becoming quite entertaining, really. It was the third time since you and Max had made your relationship public half a year ago that someone started an anti gold digger campaign to protect your boyfriend. They truly believed they were doing this for a greater good, and they all begged Max for his attention.
It always began after they sniffed out he had given you something expensive as a gift or took you shopping to a luxury boutique. While there were some people who tried to protect you by pointing out that maybe he enjoyed showering you with gifts, the rest didn't care about that. 
You lived in a small apartment back home, you were driving a five years old Renault SUV, and no one knew what you did for a living. This was enough to enrage them and make them believe all you wanted was Max's money at the end of the day. Just think about the way she's looking at him, one of them wrote about two months ago, she's so clearly not in love with him. Poor Max, someone please save him. 
Ridiculous.
“Is everything okay?” he asked when he got home and kissed the top of your head. 
You were sitting in his sim rig, using the time while it was free to practice, because you wanted to play with him when you weren't here together, and he was more than happy to show you the basics. “Someone started another campaign to cancel me,” you replied casually as you got out with his help. 
Even when you were standing in front of him, he didn't let go of your hand, instead he raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on its back. “Gold digging?” You nodded with a sad look on your face, but less than five seconds later you were both laughing. “Look, I know you're having way too much fun with this, but–”
Without waiting for him to finish, you raised your hand to make him stop. “I'm not stepping out of the shadows, Max. I've been hiding for years, even fucking Forbes doesn't know my real name or face,” you told him.
Back in the old days, when Bitcoin appeared, your geeky uncle had gotten into mining and trading it. He knew the potential, so he put most of his savings into buying them, then he held onto them, and by the time he got sick years later, he knew they were valuable and would be worth a lot more in the upcoming years. In his will, he left his savings and his wallet to you, giving you the chance to use them as you wished since you had learned everything about crypto from him.
So now you had Bitcoin as well as old fashioned investments, and you had used your money to help out an up-and-coming tech company for a forty percent share, and it was later sold to a tech giant for a lot of money. But despite your wealth, you chose to stay under the radar, because you loved your small apartment, and you weren't about to trade it for some fancy penthouse. 
You had met Max the year before in Las Vegas. F1 was a sport you watched with your uncle while he was still alive, and you were hell-bent on getting a VIP pass for the weekend. If you asked your boyfriend, he would say it was love at first sight, but in reality he was just annoyed by you. For a solid ten seconds, he would correct you every time you talked about it.
You agreed that you would hide in Max's apartment until this latest campaign died down, which gave you some time to spend together in peace. Every now and then you checked the tags to see how things were going, and after the silence of the past few days, today your name was trending again. Ready to have a good laugh, you opened the tag, but the most popular post gave you a minor stroke.
“Oh, fuck me,” you yelled as you launched your phone into the couch.
Max pulled the headset down to his neck as he looked over at you. “Is everything okay?” You raised your finger to your lips as if you wanted him to stay quiet, but luckily he got the message. “I'm muted. So?”
You grabbed your phone and went over to him. “They know. One of those idiots from the company I helped back in the day posted a tweet to protect me, saying that if it wasn't for me being an angel investor, they wouldn't be millionaires now,” you summarized as you gave him the device.
He scrolled through a series of tweets, and found a post from a journalist of Forbes in which he promised a proper investigative piece based on this info. He handed you the phone, then wrapped an arm around your waist. “It's okay, schatje. I know that's not what you wanted, but maybe they'll stop with the recurring hate campaign now,” he tried. “And if you’re worried about the article… Don’t be. There is nothing compromising about you. Yes, you inherited the money, but you have proven you know what to do with it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” you admitted with a sigh. 
“I’m usually right. C’mere,” he said as he reached out to pull you closer, but you glanced over at the camera. Rolling his eyes, he quickly turned it off, then gave you an expectant look. “Will you hug me now? And I want a kiss too.”
With a laugh, you leaned down to wrap your arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. But he wanted more, his hand slowly sneaked under your shorts, his fingers running over your clothed cunt before he decided to pull your panties aside and dip a finger between your folds. You moaned into the kiss, but he pulled away a second later to lick his finger clean. 
Shaking your head with a chuckle, you patted his shoulder and walked back to the couch. You could feel Max’s eyes on you the whole time, and when you looked at him again, he flashed a devilish smile at you. “I should quit the stream. Now that I had a taste, I want more,” he told you. 
“I’m not going anywhere, just try to be patient.”
He looked back at the screen, then put the headset back on his head and unmuted his mic. “Sorry, I have to go. See you next time,” he told the others, then logged out. You couldn’t remember the last time he left the sim rig this fast, and only a few seconds later he was kneeling in front of you, eagerly reaching up to pull your shorts off you.
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liked by user1, user2 and 947,896 others
f1gossips: Breaking news! Turns out Max Verstappen's girlfriend isn't a gold digger after all as she has her own fortune according to the investigative article published by Forbes. Will the fans apologize?
view all comments
user2: And here I was, thinking she's just a greedy airhead...
user3: Easy to be wealthy with your uncle's money.
↳ user4: Have you read the whole thing? She invested the money and helped out several startups--that later became pretty successful--as an angel investor. Yes, maybe she inherited a lot of money, but she knows what to do with it.
↳ user5: May I remind you how many F1 drivers started their careers with their families's money?
user6: Told you she wasn't a gold digger. Suck it, haters.
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,577,353 others
maxverstappen1: If you don't buy your girlfriend gifts every once in a while, you're a bad boyfriend. I love to spoil her, it's not a crime. I love her, I'm proud of her, and you can send us as much hate as you want, it will only make us stronger.
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
yourusername: I'd be perfectly fine without the gifts, I already told you.
↳ maxverstappen1: I don't care.
landonorris: You're absolutely right!
↳ maxverstappen1: You're single, how would you know?
↳ landonorris: Just FYI, I've been in relationships before.
danielricciardo: You're so disgustingly smitten with her. (I love you both.)
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wishful-seeker · 1 year
Text
Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist
1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.
Example:
Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."
Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"
This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.
Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."
Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"
This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.
Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.
To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.
2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.
For example:
Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"
Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."
Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making YOU uncomfortable?
3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.
For example:
Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."
Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."
This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.
4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.
For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.
5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.
6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.
For example:
Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"
Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"
Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.
7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.
For example:
Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."
Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"
This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.
Hope this helps, stay punk.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months
Text
black eye
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words: 500
warnings: reader has a black eye from getting punched
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450
sarah brings you an ice pack wrapped in a towel, eyes wide as they scan your face.
“i’m okay, i promise.” you say, pressing it against your eye, letting out a sigh of relief as the cold soothes your already swollen skin.
“rafe, just take a breath-” you say as he rounds the couch, not failing to notice the way sarah leaves the room while rafes eye is trained on you.
“it’s not you i’m worried about.” sarah laughs, trying to relieve some of the tension. “it’s whoever did this to you when rafe gets his hands on them.”
“who did what to who?” rafes voice suddenly says from behind you, making you jump. 
“who.” is the one word he manages to spit out.
you know the best strategy is to distract him at the moment, quell the anger rising in his gut. “don’t even care to check on me?” you ask with a pout.
rafes chest stops its heaving, eyes turning sad as he kneels in front of you. his hand cups over your own, moving the ice pack away to see your swollen eye, skin beginning to turn purple. 
“baby.” he frowns, sliding his hand down to your neck as he turns your head, seeing your bruise from every angle.
“it was an accident.” you say in a whisper.
“as someone who has gotten many black eyes from getting punched, you can’t tell me this was just an accident.” he’s right, you got into a foolish argument with some girls, and one of them punched you square in the face. thankfully, sarah found you before too much worse could happen.
“can we just not talk about this, you’re making my head hurt.” you say, putting the ice back over your eye.
“your head hurts?” rafe asks, moving his hands to squeeze your knees, needing to feel you in some way. “we should take you to the doctors.”
“nooo.” you say. “i’m not going to the freaking doctors. can we just go lay down in your bed? i think cuddles would cure me.”
rafe sighs, dropping his head down. he presses a few scattering kisses to your thighs before looking up and nodding. you know instantly that rafe isn’t going to let you even walk by yourself, letting him lift you up and carry you to his bedroom.
rafe nods, taking a deep, calming breath and laying down next to you. you snuggle up next to him as soon as his back is against the sheets. rafe opens his arms to you, letting you put the uninjured side of your face against his chest.
he sets you carefully down on his bed, already beginning to fuss over you, “is your ice pack still cold enough? do you want to get changed? did you get hurt anywhere else?”
“shh, rafe.” you giggle, grabbing his hand and tugging on it, signaling that you want him in bed next to you. “just cuddles, babe.”
“babe.” he says after a minute. “can you just appreciate how fucking calm im being?” 
“mhm, i’m so proud of you.” you say, patting his chest.
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asstrolo · 3 months
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astrology observations for sad people
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— the signs who I personally believe are really misunderstood by their peers are often capricorns and aquarius because of their saturnian tendencies where they become the mature, bigger person or are aloof of how they're presenting themselves, they always think they know better or people feel very intimidated by their personalities and, because people don't understand them, they alienate them,
— aries and scorpio as they are very intense, over confident people, other's might feel put-off by them, they can be very controlling and have a "I don't care" kind of personality that doesn't usually goes well with others, their ways of always trying to make themselves clear and understood causes the opposite effect, they are often misjudged as villainous or mean,
— geminis are also put in a place of having to know better, not given a chance or space to mess up as they are very intelligent people and show it, others might have big expectations which are often not met since they prefer to do what makes them happy and makes them curious, they tend to over-inflate themselves, or the opposite, and people take their words too seriously or not at all, very polarizing sign.
— a stellium in 4th can be super difficult to deal with, specially if it falls on not easy planets like mars, or saturn, uranus, or pluto. These people are always dragged back to their family issues no matter how much they try to escape, their parents maybe gave them too much responsibilities as little kids or vented to their child without thinking of the consequences, if these people ever decide to have a family they should always consider if they're doing it because they want to or because it is what's expected of them.
— chiron in social signs as gemini, aquarius and libra feel very alienated at all times, having social interactions is a learning experience for them, whether is good or bad, I also notice people usually get obsessed with them? They don't respect these people¡s space or it could be the other way around, to me is a placement where you'll learn to not be socially inept or teach people how to treat you right for some reason?
— saturn IS a complicated planet, it depends on the person's other planets and aspects how they deal with saturn, a person with moon conjuct saturn has a harder time dealing with their emotions than a capricorn moon. Even when the energies are similar, they don't have the same impact.
— now, a person with a capricornian stellium or dominant does deal with the saturn energy much comfortably than a person with sun trine saturn, because they were born with it. I personally believe you accommodate, or your aspects accommodate to you as you grow and evolve as a person.
— a pisces stellium, specially if is on moon or ascendants, is very perceptive to other's opinion on them, not in a superficial way but more on a "does this person thinks i'm being fair or mean?" Let's not forget the sister sign of Pisces is Virgo, so these signs also share the analytical or more neurotic way of seeing the world. A Pisces Rising is very self-aware of how they come off to people or how they are seen, they might not show it or say anything about it, a Pisces mercury might be self-conscious about how they approach others, how their voice sounds or how they come off when talking.
— I do believe leo's have a harder time being appreciated by people, as they devote to other's so easily they could neglect themselves in the process. Is the kind of person who is always looking out for someone to make happy or to make them feel comfortable because is something they want reciprocated. But this is a thing that can happen to fire signs a lot, they can be overbearing or too kind to people that it ends up backfiring on them, they have a very childlike mentally.
— is true what they say, a 12th house stellium in a natal chart makes the person passive and/or too in their own world, they have premonitions in dreams, but I've also seen these individuals have a really hard time with sleep, they have paranormal experiences a lot that some of them are used to it. They can be in some sort of medication, but not all, and not always these people are medicated or doing substances, they have an easier time to have out-of-body experiences, like lucid dreaming or sleep paralysis, these can occur because these people are super sensitive and get easily drained and stressed. Is important they are taking care of their energy at all times, I've met many that have one, two or more 12th house placement where I've found out some other person has been doing some sort of witchcraft on them, or have a big negative energy that this 12th houser sucks accidentally.
— having a mercurial dominant or rising can be super difficult when it comes to feeling, they tend to rationalize everything too much, are easily distracted and indulgent, they are very, very anxious at all times on all situations, even if they show otherwise. they overthink things too much, are the kind to be incredibly self-aware or completely out of touch with themselves.
— the ascendant aspecting negatively the mercury gives the individual speech impediment or a very shy personality, an almost inaudible voice or a raspy one, people with this placement have a harder time getting their thoughts across, or people might misinterpret them.
— keeping the conversation going, mercury negatively aspecting saturn makes a shy and reserved person, someone who, as a kid or a teen, has problems with being heard, or people simply didn't care or asked for this person's opinions, they might had been very codependent on an adult or somebody else to talk or to get to be seen, as they grow older they learn to communicate rather excellently, they might want to treat their shyness or whatever problem they have with unwanted attention or negligence
— neptune in personal houses like the 1st, 7th, 4th or 10th is really tricky. you might ignore gut feelings bout certain individuals, or on the contrary, believe someone is good when they aren't. these people can be their own worst enemies as they are super perceptive of how they come across to others, or how others make them feel.
— neptune in the 1st is common on actors and models and singers, usually on famous people, because they can create a fantasy of how they want people to see them, or act like chameleons around people, this creates a series of identity crisis during their lives.
— neptune in 7th is prone to feel things that really aren't there? they convince themselves somebody hates them or likes them for just one interaction, these individuals are like a sponge in social situations and they take everything somebody tells them to the heart. they also are known to lie a lot to people on behalf of good manners, they like to be liked.
— neptune in 4th house has a really confusing or unclear family situation, they might adopt the role of the parent when they shouldn't, or are treated as a child even as an adult, something in their family, in what they think is normal growing up, isn't. the most likely to stay in a bad situation for many, many years because they don't know any better, or think it's normal.
— neptune in 10th, although it deals with fame and impersonal relationships, to me, is just as fundamental as the houses listed above. they don't see themselves through their own eyes, or feel like they depend on other's perceptions on themselves too much, they are confident, or pretend it really well. these individuals know how to act the part, how to commit to the bit, they never feel that sense of belonging anywhere, because they might show different parts of their personalities to different people
— for me, the hardest moons to have are capricorn, scorpio and virgo.
— capricorn moon is a strictly analytical sign, they don't feel comfortable in the moon as is where the emotions and insecurities shine the most.
— scorpio moon is a very intense sign, as opposite to the Capricorn, they can be super emotional, or completely numb, very extremist and their emotions are black or white, polarizing.
— virgo moon is extremely difficult, they don't like to have to feel things, they like to think and act with precaution and it's hard for them to let their emotions slip, the kind of friend who'd have the most practical advice to all sort of topics, a helpful hand in all situations, but when it comes to them as individuals, they let themselves be too much, their head is always at a thousand percent. From what I've gathered of this moon is that, yes, they are neurotic when it comes to certain things, but completely careless to others, and it's usually to themselves, you won't ever see a Virgo moon misbehave or dress bad, but they can hold a lot of suppressed shame or anger or sadness, like they tie it with a bow in a box and keep it locked.
— lastly, no aspect or moon or sign is bad, they are just more difficult than others, there are people with easy aspects, like sun sextile or trine jupiter, they are prone to idealization and inferiority complexes. it's true that a person that has the harmonious aspects is lazier or gets unmotivated way easier. nothing is really set in stone, you can have a moon conjunct saturn and a cancer mercury in 9th house, your way of expressing yourself is more reserved, but optimistic and even childlike. when it comes to astrology, every single aspect and sign, and house counts to describe a person.
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 5 months
Text
[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader
Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.
Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending
“Are you married?”
He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.
“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.
He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.
The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.
It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?
He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.
No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.
He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.
I’m sorry.
The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.
Please stay.
The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.
Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.
He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.
Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.
His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.
Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.
I miss you so much.
but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.
That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.
You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.
He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.
The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.
You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.
“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.
“Hey.” He mumbles.
The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.
Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...
He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.
“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.
because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.
It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.
“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”
“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”
“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”
“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”
“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”
“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”
“Anything else you want to say?”
“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”
“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”
He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.
Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.
“My pleasure.”
a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j
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daegall · 1 year
Text
☆ tiny mishap
➷ in which your very protective boyfriend interrogates you about a certain wound you have
pairing: (opla!)bf!zoro x reader
genre: fluff, slight crack, established relationship!AU
warnings: injuries, booze, mentions of self harm (it is assumed, but false) based off opla!zoro, but has chopper bc chopper <3
word count: 1.5k words
a/n: to my nct audience; LOL SORRY IF THIS CAME UP IN UR FEED AND YOU GOT CONFUSED 😇🙏 currently obssesed over one piece live action dude i physically cannot explain how much i love all the characters :( (esp koby and nami's character development!!!) anw ive been having a major zoro brainrot so :) enjoy!!!
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You grumble and keep a hand to your cheek, shoulders slumped and sore, as you walk into the kitchen, in search of someone specific.
Chopper, your trusty nurse and adorable friend, of course. Who else would heal the cut on your face and bruises on your arm?
Hearing a little action going on in the kitchen, you can only assume is your captain Luffy, or Usopp, as they both are food lovers, after all.
"Hey, have you guys seen Chopper anywhe–"
However, once you make it inside the kitchen, you are shocked to see the person you've been avoiding this whole morning.
"Oh," You breathe out. A frown curls on your lips once you realize he's got a bottle of booze wrapped in his hand, bringing it up to his lips as he turns to gaze at you. "Damn it, I thought I hid those..."
Your boyfriend's got a nasty habit of drinking alcohol. Anytime he wanted. Bored? He's either napping, training, or drinking his stupid booze. Tired? Booze. Feeling happy or sad? Stupid booze.
You've been trying to stop him before he becomes 80% alcohol, but he's better at finding it than you are at hiding it.
"Morning," Zoro mumbles, as he puts his bottle down. "tried to hide these just like you've been hiding from me me all day?"
At his words, you look away, taking a step away from him. "I don't know what you're talking about,"
"Why are you holding your cheek?"
When your eyes flicker back at him, he's got a worried frown, a crease in his eyebrows some might mistake as anger, but you recognize it as care.
He cares for you, and you hate how soft it makes you.
"It's just... cold," You attempt to lie, rubbing at your skin. Bad idea, as you fail to stop your hiss of pain.
Zoro instantly walks towards you, his hands releasing his bottle of beer, and his swords, to raise it to your face. One hand hovers over your uncovered cheek, the other wrapping it's fingers around your wrist gently.
"Show me."
You still, not knowing what to do. You know you're gonna succumb to him anyway, so there's no need to put up a fight, but you can't help how stubborn you are.
So, you don't step away, but you don't lower your hand anyway.
"Y/N," Zoro says sternly.
"It's nothing, I swear, just a tiny... mishap,"
"Then show me,"
Despite his voice being so harsh, and his gaze just as much, you know this is all because he loves you. You can tell by the way his thumb softly runs over your skin, you can tell by the way he steps closer to observe further, you can tell by the way he doesn't force you. He trusts that you trust him, and you hate how it works on you every time.
"Do you at least have any bandages?"
With your tiny voice and small gaze up at him, Zoro knows you've given in.
"You know I always do,"
It's true. With the amount of fights he gets himself into, he has at least 2 packs on him. Also in case you scrape your knee or get a papercut. It's the small things he does that assure you he cares.
He finally releases his grip on your wrist, walking back to pick up his bottle of beer on the counter. Before he can even take a sip, however, you hop onto the counter in front of him, and snatch the bottle, shaking your head.
"It's 10 in the morning." You remind him sternly.
Zoro can't stop the tiny smirk on the corner of his lips, huffing. "Yeah, yeah,"
You know he loves you, he knows you love him too.
It's the tiny things like this that prove it. The way you try to make him a better man, the way you'd instantly take care of his wounds yourself, the way you shush the other crewmembers when he's napping. And unlike you, he loves how soft it makes him.
"Take your hand off now."
Though you have a disapproving look, and grimace, you comply, slowly lowering your hand from your cheek.
You look down at your lap once you hear his sharp intake of air, playing with the hem of your shirt.
Zoro can't take his eyes off the cut on your cheekbone, his heart sinking impossibly quickly, cracking when he sees a bruise right under the cut. "What the fuck happened?"
"It just... happened," You mumble weakly.
"Who did it?" Zoro'a voice, once again, is harsh, but you hear the shake in it, worry.
"...I did,"
You know he takes it the wrong way the next second, considering how you answered him, you would have skipped to conclusions yourself.
"You're harming yourself?!"
You interject immediently, reaching out to grab his wrist, "No! God, no, Zoro,"
You haven't said his name until now, and it still manages to send a wave of warmth over his body. The way you are so quick to reassure him, the way you lean into his warmth, how your skin rubs against his comfortingly, it all warms him inside. He's only ever felt warm with you, which is why he loves you so much.
"Then how did it happen?"
At his question, you frown again, but it's less serious than before, it's more of a pout, if anything.
"It's stupid."
"It's not stupid if you're getting hurt."
"You'll think it's stupid,"
"Our captain is Luffy, whatever you do can't be that bad."
Zoro waits patiently for your answer, taking out the band-aid from his pocket. His eyes shine with anticipation, no longer (that) angry, and you're glad he isn't as worried anymore. You hate making him worry.
"I..." You hesitate for a second, tearing your eyes away from his gaze. You decide that it doesn't matter if he laughs or not in the end, because he won't ever see you differently. He's your Zoro, and he'll always be by your side.
"You know how there was a storm last night?"
Your boyfriend's eyebrows raise at your words, and he nods silently, gently sticking the band-aid to your cheek. He blows on it, making sure it's secure.
"I fell off my bed and face planted onto the floor,"
At your words, Zoro completely freezes, his fingers grazing the skin of your jaw. You can't tell what he's quite feeling, as one, you didn't have the pride to look at him for more than 2 seconds, and two, he remains as emotionless as a rock.
"...Zoro?"
Suddenly, there's a sound. A strange sound that comes from him. It's unfamiliar, but... strangely warm. You come to a conclusion that Roronoa Zoro, your cold, stoic boyfriend, is laughing. He's laughing with his whole heart, eyes squinting as he finally smiles, the prettiest, most precious smile you have ever seen.
Zoro's forehead lands on your shoulder as he continues, an arm wrapping around your waist to secure you in place.
"Roronoa Zoro are you laughing at me?"
"N-no–" He snorts. How dare he lie to your face.
Although he did flat out lie to your face, it's endearing. His laugh and smile is new, comforting, and you swear your could listen to it your whole life and not complain.
"I-I'm not laughing at you, I promise!"
"Doesn't look like it," You huff out with a grumble, facing away from, attempting to hide the shy smile curling on your lips.
"N-nooo!" Zoro chuckles. A sudden warm feeling envelops not only your chin, but your whole entire being, as Zoro tilts your head back to him, your heart almost stopping at the sight of his charming grin.
He's grinning.
And it's all because of you.
You have to admit, you're proud of yourself.
"You're just... too adorable,"
"Roronoa Zoro, you're flirting with me now?!"
"Shhh!" He shushes you, though its playful, and loving, placing his index finger on your smiley lips.
You two sit there, alone and together, for minutes on end, unable to let the moment become a memory. Zoro resumes with patching you up, caressing the bruises on your arm comfortingly.
It's moments like these that make you realize just how special you are to Zoro, and just how special he is to you, because who else on planet earth would be able to get him to laugh thay hard, grin that much, and love you that much?
You'd crash into the floor a million times if it meant seeing Zoro's smile, you'd admit to any embarassing moment, if it meant having to hear his melodious laugh.
"You know," He breaks the peaceful silence, causing you to grow concious of how you were staring at him. To be fair, the both of you don't mind staring at each other. What's there to hide? You love him, he loves you.
"you could come nap with me if you want. I could keep you anchored to the bed so you don't fall out again."
Considering how much he valued his hours of sleep, and alone time, this is something big he asks you of, and you feel a sweet warmth stirr in you.
This time, you don't grow shy, or snarl at his sarcastic remark. Rather, you grin at your lover, reaching up to pinch his chin playfully. "You'd like that, huh?"
"Don't say you wouldn't,"
"And if I drag you down with me?"
Zoro shrugs, ruffling your bed-head. "We'll both get to laugh and patch each other up."
You reach up to peck his cheek, before hopping off the counter. "I'll take you up on that someday,"
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haveagarbageday · 17 days
Text
Nobody got you the way I do \\ Lando Norris
summary: When Lando finds out what your friends truly think about him, he starts to wonder why you haven't left him yet.
additional info: This is a blurb, really. Title comes from OneRepublic's song Nobody.
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Some of your friends often wondered why you were sticking around. “It must be tiring,” they said several times when Lando’s struggles with his mental health came up in a conversation. They were reading the posts, saw the interviews, checked the social media buzz around him, so they always knew when there was a reason to bring it up and convince you to break up with him. It was almost a sport for them at this point, which was quite annoying since they were supposed to be on your side.
But you never cared about these comments, you loved him way too much, even on his darker days. He was under a lot of pressure on and off the track, and thanks to his more emotional personality, it was only natural that he wasn’t always in a cheery mood, and there were times when he truly doubted himself. Now that his car was fast and he had pretty good results on every race weekend, he began to overthink everything, terrified that he would make a mistake on the track that could take it all away.
Following the Italian grand prix, your friends were back on their bullshit after seeing the photos McLaren posted, the ones that showed neither Lando nor Oscar were in good spirits despite being on the podium behind Charles. “Gosh, he’s such a sore loser,” one of them noted, a girl you didn’t even remember from before. She was probably a friend of a friend and that’s how she became a part of your group chat. All you knew was that she was usually quiet and decided to stay away from your nights out, so you completely forgot that she existed.
Tired of the pointless fight with them, you put down your phone went to bed, hoping Lando would soon finish his Quadrant meeting and join you before you fell asleep. But he didn’t. You drifted off to sleep without him, and only woke up in the middle of the night when he sat down, causing the bed to shift under his weight. You turned your head to look at him, and you saw him sit there with his back against the headboard, phone in hand as he read something, which made it obvious that he couldn’t sleep again.
“You okay?” you asked him quietly.
Lando glanced down at you with a surprised look. “Yeah, sure,” he replied a little too quickly.
It was a lie, you knew that, but you didn’t say anything, only let out a sigh and closed your eyes again. He reached out to bury his hand into your hair, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek as if he was trying to help you relax and go back to sleep. It almost began to work when he suddenly let out a groan and you heard the clicking sound coming from the phone as he locked the screen.
“When everyone, including your friends, keep telling you to leave me… why do you stay?”
You raised your head from the pillow and gave him a questioning look, but he refused to elaborate. Knowing your family meant he knew they weren’t so happy that you chose to date him, while some F1 fans also enjoyed bullying him online by writing comments about how you looked too nice and normal to date someone like him. But your friends? You had never mentioned those conversations.
After some time he looked at you, and even in the dimly lit room you could see the sadness in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to snoop around, but when I checked the settings of that app on your phone, a notification popped up from your group chat and I read the preview. How long has this been going on? How long have they been trying to convince you to break up with me?”
A small smile appeared on your lips to assure him everything was okay, but he seemed even more troubled than before, so you decided to sit on top of him and lean down to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. “They can talk as much as they want, but I won't leave you, all right?” you said as your fingers traced his cheek. “I love you, this is all that matters to me.”
He gulped as he watched you, struggling to keep his composure, but when you kissed the corner of his mouth, he let out a relieved sigh. “I love you too. I don't want you to ever leave me,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and leaned forward to bury his face into your chest.
“Lan?” He looked up at you with a questioning hum. “You would have to do something colossally stupid thing to make me leave,” you told him with a laugh.
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erzva · 6 months
Text
his favorite ways to make you cum
a/n: ok i’ve realized that you can actually just insert any character of your liking while reading this bc it’s not specific to the character i had in mind..
eating you out
his favorite sexual activity for sure. not only does he love giving you head and seeing you feel good because of him but it’s relaxing to him. when he’s tired or sad he’ll always crawl in between your legs and start kissing and licking and nibbling on your stomach around your bellybutton and your thighs, coating them in love bites.
it’s also extremely arousing to him. he loves hearing all the noises you make, and them getting louder and messier and more embarrassing (as you claim) the closer you get to your orgasm. he can’t help but grind his hips into the mattress, moaning into your pussy, the added vibrations making you groan.
he is always so focused on the task and gets lost in your big pussy lips lapping and sucking at them and your puffy clit as if it’s his favorite hobby (it is). his arms are usually always both snaked around your lower half to keep you in place and so he has easier access and can shove his tongue as deep into your cunt as possible. except for if he’s fingering you additionally to licking your clit ofc. then his right hand will be buried deep in your pussy, desperately grazing your g-spot while sucking on your clit until you start rutting your hips against his face and your grip on his hair becomes tighter. oh how he loves it when you tug on his hair while you’re chanting his name when you’re cumming..
handjobs
he likes them almost as much as you do. he especially loves how you go about asking for one though. he loves it when you sit in his lap, crossing your legs behind his back and hugging him tight for a few minutes, with your head buried in his neck, kissing it and sucking light bruises into his skin before your kisses and sucks move up to his ear and earlobe. and then his jawline. until your kisses finally reach his lips and he’s too impatient to wait for you any longer so he just immediately licks into your mouth making both of you moan at the feeling of each others soft tongues. you keep moaning and trying to keep up with his aggressive licks but your mind wasn’t ready for it yet so you had to pull back. he chuckled. he knew what question was about to escape your lips. you stayed close to him and started kissing your way back to his neck and ear, nuzzling into him. “can you give me a handjob?” you’d ask sucking on the skin below his ear. you couldn’t see but he was smirking. he chuckled lightly. as if he could ever deny you that.
he picked you up in one swift motion and walked to the bedroom with you throwing you on the bed as soon as you reached it. oh how he loved the look on your face every time he does this. you looked about ready to jump him.
“pants off, pretty.” he would demand before positioning himself behind you and starting to kiss your neck and jawline. he would start slow and grope you aggressively while sucking bruises into your skin. the foreplay was part of why you loved handjobs so much. you just couldn’t get enough of his hands on your body.
by the time he would finally bring his hand down to your clit, after whining and silently begging him to touch you already, you were already wet from the foddling and kissing.
and all the praise and dirty talk that was possible in this position was heavenly. his lips were practically sealed to your ear constantly praising you and grunting and moaning in your ear because he knows how much you love it and how much it gets you off.
he loved holding you down with his other arm whenever you’d start chanting his name and wiggling, indicating that you were close.
mating press
missionary is the basic sex position for a reason. it was just so easy to handle someone this way. the look on your face and the sounds you made every time he’d put your legs up on his shoulder and start drilling into you was so arousing to him.
he didn’t care about how “messy and chaotic and embarrassing” you thought you sounded. that’s part of what was so arousing. the fact that he’s making you feel so good you don’t know what to say or what sound to make and don’t even try to tame yourself and instead just let the sounds escape your lips was so hot to him, he wants to cum right then and there.
dickriding
oh how he loved making you cum when you were the one on top. he loved bottoming or subbing and seeing you take control of him and the situation. but he also likes messing with you and he would do anything to hear all the messy embarrassing sounds you make when he drills up into you from below.
the way your eyes would roll back and your moans would become more animalistic at the sudden fast pace was one of his favorite sights to see.
and when it became too much for you and you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore so you’d collapse on top of him and put your arms around him, he would smirk to himself. being able to hold you tight while ramming up into you as fast as possible to make both of you cum while hearing you moan and breathe into his ear was too arousing.
this was originally supposed to be about jason todd (no one’s surprised) but i can also see: hal jordan, dick grayson, roy harper, wally west, toji, nanami, gojo, sae, aiku, karasu, otoya, katakuri, sanji, zoro, shanks, semi eita, atsumu, iwaizumi, tartaglia/childe, itto, laxus dreyar, sting eucliffe, gray, jellal, gajeel, natsu
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