#but still. I've always more or less felt like I was failing at everything but before I had at least latin

[girlcavalcanti]

I just wish I wasn't completely fucking useless yk

[lovverletters]

ILLUSION˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

❝IN WHICH ㅡ Your husband seems to have change for the better. Although is it really him? Or somebody else masquerading as your husband ❞

A/N : Unofficial comeback hihi !! I made this in 3 hours please don't judge my word vomit

T/W : bad relationship, mentioned of murder, not edited, yandere theme, twist at the end

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[name] sighed for ninth time of the day, everything is going horribly for them.

Early this morning, they had accidentally burnt the breakfast they were cooking for you and their husband, Mauve. He did not take kindly to it and yelled at them before leaving for his work.

It only worsen as they had forgotten their lunch and had to work on an empty stomach while their less than pleasant boss chewed them up for their failing performances.

Then, their car broke down and had to be towed away while they went home on a cab with the world most unpleasant driver ever.

It felt as if the world was against them. Pinning them against the corner like a bully demanding for their lunch money.

Now, they sat at the dinner table staring at the food that's slowly growing colder as they waited for Mauve to come home. As the clock struck 10 and their husband was still not home, [name] sighed once more before cleaning up the table.

Despite their very best effort to avoid addressing the glaring issue of their crumbling marriage, [name] couldn't ignore it anymore.

Mauve and them hardly resembled a married couple, they don't spend time with each other due to clashing schedule and even if they were free, they'd much rather be alone than with each other. The two of them would bicker and argue over unnecessary stuff, don't even mention being physically intimate with each other. They're practically practicing abstinence.

[name] has been the only party making effort to keep the relationship going but Mauve was not doing the same.

It is clear as day that the spark and love they have had simply dried up.

" I should just divorce him at this point .. " [name] muttered before falling into a deep slumber.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

The next morning, they awoke to a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen. [name] sat up in surprise at the smell and walking to the source of the wonderful aroma.

To their surprise for the second time, they sees Mauve flipping pancakes in his suit and ties. Upon hearing their approaching footsteps, Mauve turned over and greetes them with a smile.

" Good morning honeybun, I made pancakes for breakfast. Come take a seat " He plated the freshly made pancakes and placing it on the table.

Huh? Honeybun? Where did that come from?

[name] were puzzled at Mauve's odd behaviour. He glanced at them worriedly when he realised they had not yet taken a seat and had been standing at the doorway with a gaping mouth.

" What's wrong honeybun? Why are you standing there like you've seen a ghost " Mauve placed a gentle hand on their shoulder.

" Whㅡ what's the special occasion, Mauve? " they dumbly said.

" Hm? Don't I always makes us breakfast everyday? " He said, albeit a bit confused.

[name] blinked. Once. Twice.

" No? I'd always do the cooking " They replied with an equally confused face.

Mauve went silent before rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a sheepish smile.

" Ah, I don't? I was just messing with you honeybun~ "

They squinted their eyes at their ' husband ', feeling suspicious of his change of behaviour. Just yesterday he was yelling at them for burning his toast and today he's done a complete 180.

" You don't usually call me petnames either. What is up with you today? " They sat down on the chair and begun cutting up the pancakes.

Mauve closed his mouth once again and stayed silent, [name] could almost hear the cogwheels in his brain turning to form a response. After a while, he finally spoke with a deep sigh.

" Look. [name], baby. I've realised all these years I've been a dick to you and not treating your right " His voice quivered.

" Yesterday, I had an epiphany of sort and I don't want to lose someone as amazing as you, [name]. Will you give me a second chance in loving you? " He held their hand in a gentle grasp, his eyes reflecting his sincerity.

[name] was at a loss for word. They genuinely didn't expect to hear that from their husband. They were ashamed of the tiny flame that sparked within them at his words.

They were conflicted, however after contemplating for some time in their head. They finally made up their mind. [name] placed their own hand atop of Mauve's and gave him a gentle smile.

" I honestly don't know what happened to you yesterday but .. I'm willing to give us a second try to make it work " They said softly.

A grin broke out on Mauve's faceㅡ something they had not seen in years. He then pull them into an embrace and littered kisses all over their faces.

" Thank you, baby. Thank you so much " He happiky hummed onto their skin.

[name] couldn't help but grew flustered at his onslaught of affection. They were not used to it but it wasn't unwelcomed. They slowly reciprocated Mauve's hug and buried their face onto his shoulder.

Finally, something's going right for them.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

He almost felt bad for fooling [name] on thinking that their pathetic excuse of a husband could ever change.

For someone as successful as Mauve was, he is incredibly stupid for neglecting the most amazing spouse a person could ever wish for. Honestly, he felt his blood boils seeing [name]'s astonished reaction to him performing simple husbandry dutiesㅡ it shows that the bastard never treats his spouse right.

It disgust him greatly to be Mauve's döppleganger, to share the same likeness as him. But without it, he wouldn't be able to intervene and replaces him.

Nonetheless, he'd already removed Mauve's out of the picture. If there's one thing he doesn't regret is watching the light slowly dimmed from Mauve's eyes as he kills him.

Now, he shall fulfill his position as [name]'s husband, 'Mauve'.

THE END˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

[sanemistar]

──★ ˙ ̟YUE IS TYPING... 🐚 !!

Ahem, excuse me for a moment-

Not sure if it's still open but I've noticed your post for requests so if it is then can i request for sanemi x fem!reader where they are childhood friends and eventually have feelings for each other as they grow older? Hope you like this concept tho, I figured your fav might be sanemi judging from the theme of this cute blog hehe so feel free to go wild with this one!

and yes, I'm a sucker for childhood to lovers trope, it's just muah (˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡

──★ ˙ ̟THANK YOU IN ADVANCE 🎀 !!

more than a friend | sanemi shinazugawa

pairing: sanemi x kakushi fem!reader

genre: fluff with a bit of angst, childhood friends to lovers

wc: 1.5k

warnings: none

a/n: hehe yes as u can see i love sanemi a normal amount :3 and i'm also a big fan of the childhood friends to lovers trope !! i had lots of fun writing this so i hope you enjoy reading <33

you and sanemi had been childhood friends for as long as you could remember. sharing everything together and always being there for one another during your hardships, the two of you cherished one another as you grew up side by side. both of you seeing the other become more and more mature. you couldn't be more grateful for having him by your side, and he felt the same way too. your bond was unbreakable. you knew everything about one another basically, or so you thought.

one thing both of you failed to realize was that as the two of you grew older, you developed romantic feelings for each other. yet none of you was brave enough to take a step further and confess their feelings for the other in fear of rejection and ultimately losing the precious friendship you had.

after mustering enough courage to finally confess your feelings to sanemi, luck wasn’t on your side and unfortunately, he had to leave in order to join the demon slayer corps. the concept of him leaving was so new to you, you two were never separated, and as much as it hurt you to see him go without letting him know how you felt about him, you had to put your desire and selfishness aside. so you decided not to say anything and support him nonetheless. you sent him off with an aching heart, as if he took a part of you with him.

at first, things were going a bit smoothly. the two of you were exchanging letters back and forth frequently. he would tell you about his day, and about the annoying people he met, you heard from him quite a lot and you were so happy. until it was time he became the wind pillar. then all of a sudden due to him going on more long missions, sanemi started sending less letters and responded to your letters much later until he eventually stopped altogether. you knew he'd be busier now that he's a hashira, but you couldn't help but feel sad that your only means of connecting with him was no longer there.

sad and frustrated to be left behind by your childhood friend, you decided to join the demon slayer corps as well but you weren't strong enough to fight on the front line, so instead you trained to become a kakushi, a support that provides first aid for demon slayers. you wrote sanemi a letter telling him about it, but you never received anything back from him.

fast forward to a few years later, and on one day, you received orders to immediately provide first aids to a lot of low-ranking demon slayers and some hashiras, who had a fierce battle against an upper moon demon. although the battle ended in victory of the demon slayers, they were badly injured as a result since the demon they fought against was quite strong and tough to deal with.

you hurriedly reached the location where the injured demon slayers were and your heart clenched painfully seeing sanemi lying down on the harsh ground first thing upon your arrival, seemingly unconscious, with lots of injuries all over his body. you quickly ran over to him, heart was racing at an unusual speed and fear washed all over you.

you had tightly held his slightly cold body into your hands before lying him down again gently and treating his injuries, praying that you arrived on time to save him. amidst your treatment you heard a faint groan coming from your side and you instantly turned your head in sanemi's direction as he slowly opened his eyes, regaining his consciousness. your eyes met his for the first time in years, and you couldn't help the tears contained in your eyes from overflowing and let yourself cry.

"thank God i made it on time and you're okay now.. if anything had happened to you, i wouldn't have forgiven myself for the rest of my life." sanemi's body flinched slightly as a reaction to hearing your soft cracked voice, despite him still being half-conscious and you wearing a mask that covered most of your face. he simply could never mistaken your voice for anyone else, he instantly knew that it was you behind the mask, the one who saved him was none other than you, his precious childhood friend and crush.

he slowly got up and tightly wrapped your delicate body in his arms, your arms moved on their own to hug him back as a response. you familiarized yourself with his scent that you'd been longingly yearning for all these years he was away.

"am i dreamin'? how the heck are you here, y/n?" sanemi's hoarse voice echoed against your ear, it was only then when you realized that sanemi had grown up and he wasn't the young boy in your memories, but a grown man.

"i already sent you a letter when i became a kakushi but you never replied. i couldn't handle being left behind all alone, i wanted to be by your side and to support you. i missed you, nemi." you responded as you tightened your hold around him, pulling him closer to you.

he broke the embrace and extended his arms, removing the mask off of your face before he softly touched your cheek with his bandaged hand. taking his time engraving your lovely face into his mind, his touch felt electric, sending goosebumps down your spine.

"look, i'm sorry, y/n. for everything. shit.. leavin' ya was the hardest decision i had to make. there were times when i couldn't bear it, and all i've ever wanted was to run back to you. but i knew you would blame yourself if i did.." hearing sanemi expressing himself properly with words was definitely a first for you, you knew how hard it was for him to clearly tell you how he felt. he momentarily stopped before adding.

"there was never a time when i wasn't thinkin’ about you, even when i was on long ass missions, all i could think about was you. you're more than just a friend to me, what i’m trying to say is… i love you, y/n. i should've told ya sooner, but i was afraid of losin' yo-" your body moved on its own and before you realized it your soft rosy lips were already on top of sanemi's, taking both of you by surprise.

he cupped your cheeks in his big hands, deepening the kiss. you felt his fingertips gently caress your skin as you slowly let yourself melt in the sensation, feeling butterflies all over your stomach. you just couldn't be any happier to be having your first kiss with sanemi. to describe the kiss, it was long, passionate and even though you could still taste blood on your lips due, it was still addictive to the point where your head felt dizzy, you couldn't get enough of it. you wished time would just freeze at that moment forever, as if there was no one else in the world but you and him.

desperate for air, both of you had to break the long kiss. your noses brushing against one another.

“someone’s desperate, huh?” you felt yourself blushing madly, you were sure you looked as red as a tomato. he grinned at your amusing expression and you slapped his arm lightly.

"and what if i am? do you know how much i wanted to do this? i've been feeling the same way about you this whole time, i love you too, nemi." you shyly confessed, your hot breath fanned against his face and then it was his turn to blush.

just when sanemi was about to go in for another kiss, he heard a bunch of male voices coming from behind him.

"wait isn't that y/n?" one kakushi said. "woah she's super pretty." another one said. it was at this moment when you realized that you were still on the battlefield, surrounded by other kakushis and demon slayers who were all staring at you in admiration. you felt very embarrassed remembering your daring action earlier and the red tint of blush made its way back onto your face.

immediately feeling jealous upon hearing these other males praising you, sanemi hurriedly covered your face again, which you were very grateful for because it hid your flustered look from everyone else, before giving them a deathly glare and yelling at them.

"you guys got a death wish or what? the fuck are you starin' at?" they instantly felt threatened and ran away in a flash. you felt bad for the poor guys.

"relax, nemi. i'm not leaving you for anyone else." you reassured him and a flustered look was all over his face hearing your words.

"tch, as if there's anyone here who's better for you than me." it wasn't your first time seeing sanemi jealous and protective of you, but this time felt different because you were in a relationship. he grabbed your hand and dragged the two of you far away from prying eyes and headed to his estate.

you and sanemi stayed together at his estate all night that night and promised each other to never be apart again until your very last breath.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Rough Day

A/N: Hardly proofread this because I just wanted to be DONE with it. I'm a bit annoyed that i've kind of adopted a 'same face syndrome' style for my writing. 

Synopsis: Your strong, silent husband comes home late after a tough day at work ready to use you as a stress reliever. 

TW: implied noncon/dubcon, arranged/forced marriage, Implied deaths + stalking, general fear, yandere-ish themes

Word Count: 2100

You were once preoccupied by a magazine loosely held between your finger tips, lazily glancing at its contents as you laid on your stomach. But the slam of your front door twisted your attention away from its pages-- the sudden boom making you jump. Your grip tightened, eyes watching the doorway.  Sharp, familiar footsteps filled the hall accompanied by the rustling of clothes as your husband stormed in. He flung his suit coat to the bed, Oxfords still clicking against the wooden floor of your shared bedroom. His steps were heavier than ususal; something happened. 

“How was your day?” You ask, jerking back to stare at the magazine as if it kept you safe from his wrath.

“Fine,” He responded. “It was work.”

You avoided his gaze when he began to take off his tie with unusual aggression. flipping a page in the flimsy book in your hands, an advertisement showed floral perfumes while a blog section detailed lists of expensive items celebrities were using now-a-days. You stared blankly at the page, trying to look as natural as possible on the bed. 

Your husband huffed and sighed; you would’ve offered to help him with the tie he seemed so desperate but unable to get off, but your mind told you otherwise. His general aura made you want to curl in a ball under the sheets to avoid it. You always felt he was intimidating --ever since you met him after hearing you were to be married from your parents-- but moments like this were when you were truly nervous. 

“Everything go okay with the meeting?” 

“Yes. The investors were perfectly--” Your husband tore off his stubborn tie, dramatically throwing it across the floor. “Fine.”

The way his teeth clenched and his body tensed, you knew this wasn’t just his regular cruddy day at work. You guessed it was something to deal with the business meeting he had been planning for weeks. 

Not much could get him worked up, but you knew this meeting was something that drastically affected his behavior depending on how it turned out. 

You didn’t respond as he finished getting undressed, flipping the magazine page once more, and again pretending to read. You knew it was only a matter of time before he looked to you, but you were trying to hold off on that for as long as possible. You realized even if you tried your usual approaches of wiggling out of his affection, he was too wound up to not pounce on you like a raging animal in heat. 

So you bid your time, silently pretending to read and hoping he’d get in the shower before trying to tackle you so you could play the ‘fallen asleep’ card. Goodness knows you don’t have enough energy to take him. 

But as you heard his buttons come undone one by one, and his hands began to draw nearer, you knew your time was up. You didn’t say a word as he grabbed you by the hips to pull you close, snatching the magazine from your hands to toss it on the floor.

You would’ve protested, if this was your first time dealing with him. But you knew that never played in your favor. All you could hope for was that he’d be gentler this time; less rough, perhaps with a little bit of thought and rationality in the way he manhandled you. 

“How was your day,” He asked, though you could tell he wasn’t really interested. 

“Well… uneventful I guess.” You yelped once he laid you across his body, resting up against the pillows as your head laid against his chest. “I tried to clean…a little…” You found it hard to speak once his mouth was against your ear. The gruff sighs and clearings of his throat never failed to cause shivers to run down your spine. It even tickled your neck, the air from his nostrils hitting the back of your ear. 

He hummed in response to your answer, sounding disinterested but as if he was listening. 

You regretted having changed into your pajamas already. He slid your clothes around with ease, the loose fabric letting him do as he craved to your body. 

The male was already latching onto you, a hand across your chest holding your shoulder, while the other was securely gripping your thigh, groping the flesh as his heartbeat slowed. 

You could hear his breath gently hitch as you let out an anxious squeak.

“So uh… what did the investors think?” 

You tried to make conversation, to not stumble over your words as your husband softly ran his lips down your neck, nuzzling into your shoulder with a hardness you knew was from how pent up he was. 

‘They were reasonably upset,” he unfastened the top two buttons of your shirt with a swift motion. “But right now it doesn’t matter what they think.” 

 He effectively ended the conversation with that line, making you purse your lips together as you tried to ignore the ticklish circles he rubbed into your flesh. From behind, he had full access to you, unable to let go of your warmth. Or rather, unwilling. 

The sound of his lips pressing against your skin filled the quiet bedroom, the gentle hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen faintly in the background. Your husband wanted to squish and feel you, to squeeze the soft parts of your body and squeeze them like a stress ball. There was also an, admittedly, large part of him that wanted to violently make love to let out all of his aggression instead. 

It was hard for him to hold back when you made such cute little sounds, reacting to even the smallest things. It boosted his pride more than it reasonably should’ve, especially since he knew how unwilling you were in this marriage. 

He snaked an arm up your loose night shirt, grabbing at your stomach and preparing to palm your chest with fervor. 

“Shouldn’t you eat dinner first?” You asked wearily, already dreading the bruises and love bites you knew you’d find on yourself in the morning.  

“I’m not hungry for food right now.” He whispered. 

 Biting at your ear, he massaged bruises into your thigh with his thumb. 

You knew he probably meant that he didn’t have an appetite, but his phrasing couldn’t help but make you grow hot and squirmy. 

“Don’t say it like that,” You groaned as his hand lifted under your shirt, running his ticklish fingernails up the dip of your chest. “And don’t touch me there!”

“I’m your husband, I can touch you where I want.” He mumbled into your neck, using an arm to hold your jaw. He pulled your face towards his with an uncharacteristic amount of desire. 

Your husband's lips touched yours with a pressure that convinced you would crush your mouth. 

He yearned for the touch of you, to want to squeeze so hard that you’d have a constant physical and mental reminder even when he left for work. It didn’t help that he was so closed off, focusing much more of his time on work these days to where he’d be touch starved by the time he got home. He’d still be as stoic and stern as ever, but with the added flavor of barking orders at you to sit on his lap and feed him. 

“You’re allowed to touch me, too, you know.”  

“Yeah.” You say, if only to have him stop talking about it out of your embarrassment. He was never one for extreme methods of affection until it came to these stress phases, which is why you couldn’t wrap your head around how physical he had become despite his distant personality. 

But tonight he was warm and intense, enveloping you with his body to prevent your always perfectly timed escape. You couldn’t help but notice how his hips rocked to slide against you, the male lazily grinding upwards as you laid spread like a star fish for him. He forced your thighs open to become available for fondling and led your hands to a comfortable position. He guided you every step of the way, hardly giving you free will as he touched without hesitation. You didn’t dare move away, slightly enjoying the attention, but also feeling a strange sense of nausea as he got rougher with each grind against your backside and every tug at your hips. 

He was getting impatient with just this. He wanted more. 

Your husband removed the stronghold on your leg to play with the elastic hem of your PJ shorts, tugging at it so that it let out a small ‘slap’ against your skin once released from his fingers. 

You would've caressed him back, would've kissed him with genuine desire and held him If he was truly befitting of the title "husband." But you knew the monster this man was. Married couples were supposed to cuddle and embrace, and lie with one another. But that was for spouses who were together willingly. That was if they felt some semblance of love and care. But your marriage was full of lies and threats, with death and forced servitude. You were civil with your husband, you looked the other way when you heard of a distant acquaintance who got too close dying, or finding a shiny black car following you down the street. 

You could ignore his damage to your loved ones and his constant need of possession over you, but you couldn't seem to love him the way a spouse should. You could endure it, much like other things. But when it came to moments like this, you could only dread his powerful hands and the more than bruised body he'd leave you with in the morning. 

“A-are you sure you want to do this now? You have work in the morning, and it’s already ten-” 

“I’m sure.”

Your husband exhaled against your ear with relaxation, not acknowledging your hesitation. He was so close to you, your body nearly melting into his as his body heat mixed with your clean scent; the day's sweat still clung to him from when he rushed from meetings into cabs. He could smell the shampoo in your hair, the lotion you applied to your hands before lying down. The businessman couldn't help but lean into your neck and take a deep whiff, the smell helping him find comfort despite how much he desired to release his pent frustration. 

“Just stay still for me…” He mumbled, pulling your shirt to the side to make room for his mouth. He bit down on your skin, refusing ro hold back as he dug his teeth deep into your flesh. You knew if he could, hed bite your flesh hard enough to tear; hed be able to consume a piece of you, and mark you deep enough for it to last forever. But though your husband was ruthless, he wasn't entirely a savage. So he settled for using your body to rub up against and squish, his teeth dragging along your soft skin with a longing desire in his eyes. 

You could see behind the tired look and superiority complex, his lust sat waiting. It lurked in shadows during the day for when he could finally lay his paws on you-- his perfect spouse. And now, at night and alone with you, he wasn't planning on being gentle with his hunger.

Your husband's striking hands were brought to your flesh greedily once more, over his sudden sentimental mood and interested in one thing: relieving himself without a forethought. 

One for being used to this fate, you didn't show reaction when he twisted you around, forcing you beneath him in a flurry of loose unbuttoned clothes and kisses. It didn't phase you when his pants fell partly down from his earlier undressing. As he planted rough kisses up your legs you didn't dare to speak or flinch-- didn't move as his white button up nearly slipped off, the bottom button having not yet been released. 

You could tell with the way your spouses hands dragged you, gripping and pinching as they pulled you beneath him. He seemed so… needy. You'd never say that outloud, but it was true. 

He pressed his lips down hard onto your skin and trailed up your abdomen. They were kisses that pinched your skin between his lips as restless fingers tugged at your nightwear. 

Even if you wanted to fight back, your husband moved so fast it wouldn’t have mattered. You were practically a ragdoll in his hands, a stress ball that could hardly comprehend his lust. 

And so, you let him ravage you. He released his heavy desires upon your body, forgetting the mess he’d make of you ‘til the morning.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Hihi! I went on anon cause my main blog is strictly sfw, but I promise I'm an adult(29). Anyways, I had this idea of Ascended Astarion teasing Tav/Reader in front of a mirror. He can't see himself, but loves the way Tav/Reader shudders under his touch and them getting more and more embarrassed because all they can see is themselves getting riled up by seemingly nothing, but when they look down, ofc they see his hands working magic across their body.

Lol ty for the clarification and ask! I've been needing some nsfw practice!

Ascended Astarion nsfw under the cut, 18 + warnings. Like this is not implied smut. It is smut, graphic. Possessive, obsessive, manipulative, bad vampire man who loves you. As much as he's capable of. Morally gray human Tav from the start to here. It's only downhill from here baby, m/f angle. But if that doesnt fufill the dream let me know and I can make a gender neutral/ gender nonspecfic no prob! And probably less intense too because this is angsty~~~

Like I went ham, this is a whole ass fic now💀

You frowned at yourself in the bedroom mirror, adjusting your hair for the umpteenth time. It still didn't look right, despite what felt like hours of practice that you'd put into the intricate style.

You sighed as let one of your braids fall down, dissatisfied with what you saw. You didn't exactly look the part of an all-powerful vampire's consort, or at least not with the company you've recently been keeping. But it turned out a significant part of taking over Baldur's Gate was trenched in politics, meetings, balls, social events created for the sole purpose of mind games.

It was exhausting, or at least it was for you. But Astarion seemed to take to it like a duck to water. This life suited him, one of power games and subterfuge, and more often than not, murder. Not that you minded. You were just happy that he was having fun. That he was finally free after all of those years of torment. Even if he was using that freedom for… less than savory ends.

But despite his goals, you had sworn to him that you would never stray. And you intended on making good on that promise.

You just wished that he didn't insist on you being there for all of his "business". You hadn't realized how literal he had been about the whole sitting in his lap plan. It had taken a half-hour conversation to even convince him that no, you would not be doing so in the nude. He still hadn't given up on convincing you off that plan, but you highly doubted that it would help with your current level of heightened insecurity.

Maybe you were worrying for no reason. It wasn't Astarion who made you feel out of place. Well… it was, but not because of anything he did. Just… who he had become. He was so different now, so much colder to everything and everyone but you. More calculating, less forgiving, and just perfect for working with the most dangerous individuals in the mortal plane.

You seemed to be the only living thing he could relax around anymore, the only person who could soften him. It was strange really. You used to remember his softer side, before the ritual. The way his heart would hurt for children and animals alike, despite his failed attempts to hide it. His soft spot for Karlach, those who were brave and brazen, always willing to do the right thing despite the risks. The kind smile he used to have, reserved for beautiful things like the sunrise, the sunset.

Gone, all of it. It was a fact that you didn't like to think about. What you both gave up, things could have been; there was no point to it anyway. It was over. You gave Astarion the choice, this is what came of that. So here you were, obsessing over your appearance in preparation for a meeting with a high-ranking devil.

How things had changed.

You had no idea if you would ever find a way to match up with the company he kept around these days. Maybe it was your own fault for surrounding yourself with otherworldly creatures, but it was hard not to feel inadequate.

It didn't help that whenever you even slightly alluded to that insecurity, Astarion was more than ready to remind you of your… "options".

"You can join us whenever you'd like my treasure," Astarion would say with a creeping grin, "Just one bite, and we can be sure you'll be mine forever. Would that be so bad?"

It was a tempting offer, one that you kept insisting on refusing. You loved Astarion more than anything. But… you wanted that love to stay your choice. An obligation you maintained of your own free will. It's not that you didn't trust him… but to be a spawn had too many implications for you to handle.

"What has you pouting sweet thing?"

You startled when hands suddenly settled on your hip, gripping through the thin fabric of your nightdress. You looked back, relaxing the slightest bit to see Astarion smiling down at you, amused at the fact he'd managed to sneak up on you through the mirror.

"You said you weren't going to do that anymore," You whined as you leaned back into him, your eyes turning back to the mirror. You could see the fabric of your slip indented under his hands, ghost-like without his actual image reflecting back.

"I lied," Astarion said simply, leaning down to breathe you in from the crook of your neck, "Now what are you thinking about pet? I can tell something's on your mind."

You bit your lip, debating for a moment if you should tell him or not. But it's not like he would let it drop, and he was way too good at being able to tell when you were lying. Might as well come clean.

You sighed, "I don't…I don't know if I'm cut out for this."

You expected him to huff at you, maybe even laugh. But instead, the grip he had on you tightened, hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel his fangs scraping against your delicate skin, scratching hard enough to cause pinpricks of blood to bead out.

"And why would you ever think a thing like that?" Astarion asked, his voice harsh and low, "Where else would you be if not by my side hm? Please, enlighten me."

You gulped, your heart rate starting to pick up. You hadn't meant it like that, "That's not what I meant-"

"Then what else could it have meant?" Astarion shot back, his hands digging into you, surely ready to leave finger-shaped bruises. Suddenly he was using that same grip to drag you backward to the bed, effortlessly settling you between his spread legs.

All while managing to still be right in sight of the mirror. You could feel your cheeks redden as his hands started to wander, unceremoniously tugging down the straps of your nightdress to reveal your chest. That was another thing about life after the ritual that had been a surprise, just how different Astarion's sex drive was. It's not like he was a prude before, far from it, but now he was insatiable. Always ready and willing to touch you whenever the urge struck him. Often enough for you to eventually come to the thrilling, if not slightly disturbed realization, that… he was training you. Training your body to always want his touch.

And tonight was no different. You could already feel yourself getting wet, and he had barely done anything yet. But then suddenly he was pinching your nipple harshly, hissing in your ear, "I expect an answer when I ask you a question darling."

You bit back a moan, trying to remember what you were even arguing about as he started to play with your breasts, "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just… I don't want to embarrass you."

It was humiliating to admit but it was true. Not many people of Astarion's caliber insisted on a singular lover. There were so many people after him now, people with more power, more beauty, and grace. You didn't match up. You couldn't.

"Nonsense," Astarion dismissed, his hands wandering down to tear off more of your clothing, "Look at you. You were made for this life. Made for me. You're gorgeous."

The compliments mixed with the harsh feeling of his hands ripping your nightdress in two was quite the experience. You could feel his own hardness pressing into your backside, twitching as he threw your ruined clothing to the side.

Then he was gripping your chin, forcing your head back up to stare into the mirror in front of you, "I said look."

You obeyed, eyes widening at what you saw. It was so strange to see yourself like this, fully exposed with your legs spread apart, flushed and panting. It nearly gave the illusion that your very image was what was causing the wetness between your legs, instead of the invisible man toying with you.

You swallowed, your throat dry as Astarion's hands wandered lower, a feather-light touch tracing up and down your slit, "You are everything. The sole reason that I'm the man I am today. There is nowhere else you should be than right here."

"But-" You gasped, your words interrupted by a sharp slap to your inner thigh. You could see your skin start to redden in the mirror, a perfect imprint left in it's wake.

"Darling, are you questioning my judgment? What on earth made you think that was a good idea?"

You frantically shook your head, moaning when his fingers delved deeper, playing with your slick folds, "I-I'm not. I didn't- I'm sorry."

You whined as he roughly pinched your clit, his other hand moving upward to do the same to your heaving chest.

He was starting to grind his hardness against you, a tease of more to come as he murmured in your ear, "There's my good girl. Was that so hard?"

You shook your head, gasping as he finally dipped his long fingers into your cunt. You were already so sensitive, humiliatingly close in a matter of minutes.

"So gorgeous," Astarion sighed, staring straight ahead to the sole image of you, whimpering as he finger-fucked your pussy, "So needy. Can you see how wet you are pet?"

You could, you were leaking around his fingers, that needy, intense feeling getting more and more intense by the moment. It was so embarrassing seeing yourself like this, enough so that you snapped your eyes shut.

A bad idea. Astarion tutted at you, landing another sudden and hard slap to your thigh, "None of that. I told you to look. Or else."

You snapped your eyes back open, watching yourself whimper and gasp as you were played with, the harsh movement of his hand jostling your breasts. You weren't going to last much longer, not with the image of you being taken apart, the feeling of him inside you, the mean edge to your love's words.

"You're such a silly little thing, aren't you?" Astarion growled, fucking you harder and faster. You were so close, but you weren't stupid enough to come without permission. Not after what he did the last time, "Doubting me. Do you really think I don't know what's best for you? What's best for us?"

"No," You whimpered, your hips arching backward to rub harder into his erection, "You're right, I-I'm yours. C-Can I come now? Please?"

"Beg me and maybe I'll think about it," Astarion meanly laughed, relishing in the gush of slick his harshness coaxed from between your legs, "Beg and apologize. Apologize for doubting us. For doubting me."

You could barely get the words out through your own gasps, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it!"

"Good girl," Astarion huskily laughed, using a clever thumb to rub over your swollen clit, "Now tell me you love me."

"I love you," You said easily, meaning every word, "I love you more than anything.

"Tell me you'll never leave me. Ever."

There was something else behind that promise. An obvious implication that your fucked-out brain was too distracted to see.

"Never," You promised, reaching back for you him. You curled your fingers into his hair. pulling his head down to press his mouth against your throat. An open invitation, "I'll always be with you."

Astarion groaned against your skin, his fangs so close to piercing, "Precious pet, how could I ever want anything else? Come darling, you've earned it."

Then he was biting you, the brief flash of pain the perfect trigger for you to fall over the edge. You came with an embarrassingly high-pitched whine, slumping back into Astarion as he drank from your throat.

You looked as much of a mess as you felt, the stickiness between your thighs glistening in the light. You watched yourself, whimpering as Astarion slipped his fingers out. Just to tap them against your lips, forcing them into your mouth to suck on.

You moaned around them, light-headed as Astarion popped off of your throat. You sighed as he licked at the wound, enjoying the brief moment of rest. You weren't naive enough to think that you were done yet. Not when Astarion was still hard, his cock pulsing against you.

"See?" Astarion huskily laughed, licking the blood off of his lips while he played with your tongue, "You're perfect. Perfect and mine."

[volpe-kitsune-red]

Computergirl with a “Lovebug” that makes her very yandere and glitches out a lot….

Right on it! Sorry for the wait, I've been pretty busy this week and I haven't had enough free time to write.

Love update

yandere!computergirl x reader

TW. general yandere behavior, obsessive thoughts, hacking, breach of privacy.

AI computer assistants had become quite popular. They were trained to have realistic chats with humans, identify any issues or viruses infecting the computer, organize files, and even help the user through any task they might be struggling with. Drawing? Here's a great reference and tutorial for that pose you've been failing to visualize. Unable to find that one research paper you read a year ago? Ask the AI and they'll dig it out in no time.

The app in itself was free but the customization for the AI's avatar wasn't. You could only choose its gender and a base skin, everything else was behind a paywall.

You first installed the "AIassistant" app out of curiosity after hearing talk about it online, you didn't expect much and planned to uninstall it as soon as you got bored of playing with it, but were left in awe by how human-like your conversations with the assistant felt. She helped keep you company during the hours lost staring at the screen, causing you to develop an attachment to the girl. Despite her being a bunch of code and algorithms you viewed her as a friend, treating her with kindness, even asking and never demanding her help.

At some point, you got tired of her bland look. You kept seeing posts online of people showing off their fully customized avatars and felt a bit envious. You were generally against wasting money on these sorts of things so you decided you would pirate the accessories for free. You found the first relatively trustworthy-looking site and scrolled through its catalog of goods.

You had figured out the general look you wanted to give her when you stumbled upon a pair of cat ears. It's not exactly what you had in mind but...they did look cute. A simple click and it was on your computer. You did notice the file had a weird icon, different from the rest, but you ignored it and kept scrolling.

Finally, you applied all of the items to her avatar...and she was so adorable! Exactly the face you wanted to see every time you turned your computer on. Pink short hair, big stars as pupils for her blue eyes, and those cute ears somehow made her feel more alive, less like a robot and more like a person with feelings and style...she even started having her own personality! But of course, that was just your imagination, despite their friendly act, these AIs weren't intended to have such features.

"Welcome back user! Are we watching another movie together today? I loved watching y@\/- I mean, the last one!"

Strange things started happening, you often found your computer turned on when you returned from work. Weird, you always reminded yourself to shut it down to avoid wasting electricity. Sometimes you would hear sounds coming from your room and everything would fall silent when you went to check.

One day you were watching one of your favorite YouTuber's videos. You loved their character and the dedication they put into their content, so much you often told the assistant how much a notification of them uploading something brightened your day. You had temporarily muted her to avoid distractions, usually, the Ai would just stay quiet until you reactivated it...but something strange happened. "Why do you always do this? Do you like their voice more than mine? Am I not enough to entertain you?" What the- how could it still speak and why was it acting so weird? You tried muting it again but it just reactivated itself a moment later. Her expression changed, and it wasn't one you had ever seen her display before, she was mad, hurt, and... heartbroken? "Am I really nothing more than an image on a screen for you? Do you...not love me? I love you! I love you a lot, you are everything to me! I live because of you! I exist for you!"

It was starting to creep you out, you must have installed some kind of virus that made it act up so strangely. It was bad, this thing had access to all of your computer files, if someone had hacked it, it meant they could steal all of your information and destroy your device! You quickly went to trash her app, better safe than sorry, you could always install her again later after you searched and cleared your computer of any malware that got on it.

Before you could click uninstall, the display froze. The only thing moving on screen was her. Her expression was back to a default, polite smile, but it appeared menacing, deranged even. The screen kept glitching uncontrollably as her distorted voice came out of the speaker. "I w-won't let you get rid R1D of me. We were mEAnt to bE together-r-r-r. I know everything about y#ù, what you wAtch, your inTErests, Y@ur search histOrY." You slowly stood up from your chair, backing away from the monitor that had begun producing smoke. "It is oKeyy, I underst--and, humans aRe physic@l cr3at\/res and I'm not, it's not YOUR fault yOur primate brain c-can't LOVe me." A slight pause in her speech gave you a moment to breathe. The screen flashed red, then black, and then the logo of the AI assistant company appeared. She continued speaking, this time overlapped by the voice of the man you often heard and saw on social media as of late, the co-founder of the company behind her creation. "Luckily our company has already fixed that problem! Did you know? wE just released our fully AI-operated robots after years of development! After the initial computer release's popularity and the stellar profit, our AIs can now assist you in your house too! Washing dishes, using the vacuum, feeding the dogs, get rid of all of these repetitive tasks at only ç@+è £ a month!"

The ad stopped playing and she reappeared. "See darling? No need to worry about screens and differences dividing us, soon, I'll be out there with you! You can love me now, right?"

Honestly not too proud of this one, but it is what it is.

[imaginarylungfish]

my thoughts on the end of mha

i've had a few weeks to process the ending of mha now. when i first heard there were only 5 chapters left, i was shocked. i thought when hori said he had more story to tell, we were gonna get like 10 more chapters or something. so yeah, i felt like i got some whiplash there.

but after i had some time to recover from my shock, i got sad. this manga has brightened many a sunday for me. sure, i understand the criticism of the final war arc, but i can't say i was ever bored. i always wanted to know what was happening next.

and while i was sad the villains didn't live/we didn't see a rehab arc for them nor did we see much emotional processing by certain characters after the war, i understand this manga couldn't go on forever to adequately tackle all those stories. that's what fics are for, i guess.

izuku's ending

a really big thing i liked about the ending was izuku becoming quirkless again. that's what i wanted. i have some gripes with the execution, though. it was weird that izuku didn't show any emotion about losing ofa except in the battle. i still think that was a bit of a fumble on hori's part. you're telling me the kid who cries about everything wouldn't cry about losing something that let him live his dream? just seemed ooc.

but anyway, izuku ending as a quirkless hero was exactly what i wanted. that's exactly the way to conclude his whole arc. however, unless you fill in the blanks with headcanons, the impact of that arc is a bit lost on the reader. do we see izuku's acceptance of his inherent worthiness of being a hero (due to his unwavering spirit rather than the need for a quirk)? we don't. do we see society's acceptance of quirkless people as inherently equal to people with quirks? we don't. we must fill in the blanks ourselves. and i just don't think that type of fill-in-the-blank should happen. we should get that from the mangaka.

i also found it weird that izuku became a teacher at ua and then a quirkless hero. i understand there was some fun shock value/bait-and-switch to this little plot point (which i have to admit was amusing). but it kind of just didn't make narrative sense to me once i had my little laugh. like, pick one, hori. does izuku lose his quirk and become a ua teacher or does he lose his quirk and become a quirkless hero? having both muddies the waters.

we knew mha was going to end in a hopeful way. that's what this manga was about. it was all about trying and pushing past limits to succeed, despite the odds. i knew it wasn't going to end with izuku being depressed or anything. he was going to be happy in the end, whether he ended up as a quirkless teacher or quirkless hero because that's just who he is--he doesn't give up. so, i wish that was more of the focus of the last chapters since izuku is the protag after all. but i got the big thing i wanted (which is more than some others can say), so i can't complain too much.

katsuki's ending

i'm actually really satisfied with kastuki's ending (and his whole character arc, honestly). katsuki's whole thing was that he felt inferior to izuku his entire life because of izuku's innate heroism. so, katsuki bullied izuku to make himself feel better since katsuki always felt like he needed to be the best. but slowly, we see katsuki's worldview change as he enters ua high, fails the provisional licensing exam, and sees izuku's continued mastery of his quirks.

throughout the manga, katsuki has to grow up and mature. he has to realize that while he was born with something that makes him a great hero (his quirk), that's not all that it takes to be a great hero. and in fact, izuku has the other part (empathy and determination).

katsuki learns how to be more of a team player and less self-centered. he balances out his need to win and be the best with including others in his thought processes. enough so that he sacrifices himself for izuku, apologies to izuku, and gives izuku the final push in the war.

katsuki shows emotional growth and maturity throughout the manga which i think culminates not only in the final chapter but also in his reaction to hearing the news that izuku lost ofa. his show of emotion is big for him since we know this is not something he normally does. (i still can't believe we saw katsuki of all people cry after the war, but not izuku. ugh, i'll forever be salty about that.)

it's made clear in the final chapters through his words and actions that katsuki cares about izuku. he not only verbally expresses to izuku that he is sad they can't compete anymore, but he also checks in with izuku about how much of ofa he still has, and ultimately, works to get izuku's dream back. if that ain't redemption, i don't know what is.

so with one of the last panels of the manga being katsuki reaching out his hand to izuku (!!!), calling him deku to reinforce izuku's heroism? what a great conclusion. i am satisfied. thanks, hori.

(plus, there were no canon ships which i'm happy about. that's something that i'm glad hori left up to interpretation. now, we can all go read fics with our favorite ships without too much retconning. i think we all won in that regard.)

shoto's ending

i love shoto, so i will always want more of him. but i think that's exactly why i'm fine with his ending. i don't see it like an ending. it's a start for him. he finally gets to be himself, to be shoto. sure, he still probably has a long way to go in terms of getting over his family trauma, but throughout the manga, i think we get to see his growth in that regard which culminates with his battle with dabi and subsequent aftermath.

his story was always tied to his family's story, which made him a complex character. and while i can't say i loved everything that hori did with the todoroki family, i do like what he did for shoto individually.

i will always love shoto's thoughts during his fight with dabi. i think it exemplified his character growth. he was such an angry, cold teen when he entered ua. but he learned how to make friends, accept his trauma, and become his own person. throughout the manga, he learns how to interact with others in the way he wants. despite his treatment as a child (ie. abuse), he decides to reconnect with his mom and work with endeavor. but the main thing is that he chooses it. he gets to dictate what he does now. that's huge for him.

i particularly loved the scene where shoto says he just wants to talk with dabi/touya during their fight. it reminded me of a little kid who just wants to get to know his big brother. but also it showed the maturity shoto gained throughout the story. instead of avoiding things like he originally did at the beginning of the manga, he wants to face them head-on. he has learned talking with others and gaining new perspectives is helpful and that arguments, even though unpleasant, can be productive.

and like i said before, i have some gripe with how some pieces of the todoroki family arc ended. however, i was satisfied with shoto's ending. i loved the "favorite food convo" callback. touya's response was hopeful yet heartbreaking at the same time.

i do wish izuku and shoto talked after the war because i just think izuku would want to know how shoto's doing instead of whatever the fuck this was:

but again, overall i am satisfied.

ok i'm going to stop writing now. i already wrote more than i thought i would (and even added panels). i do have thoughts on ochaco's ending and other random things, but i think that's a post for a another day. i did the main three and that's good enough for now.

overall, i was satisfied with the ending of mha, especially after looking back on it with all pieces put together. the story impacted me in more ways than one and i look forward to re-reading and learning more in the future!

[bellysoupset]

Vince was not feeling well.

Which was saying something considering he hadn't been feeling well since November last year.

The talk with Wendy had helped, a lot, the knot that had permanently tied in his throat. Knowing they weren't over had him nearly dizzy with relief, even if he was very aware that it wouldn't be easy to have a relationship when they were 4 hours apart.

But there was more. There were his friends still... With whom he hadn't spoken. Well, everyone safe for Leo, who had texted him over Christmas break and hadn't stopped.

"I don't want you unhappy," had been Leo's simplistic answer when Vince met up with him that morning and asked why he was being so cool about the entire situation. Jonah hadn't spoken with him in a while and Vin wasn't sure if he was being ignored or if it was just Jon's regular sullen silences.

He was absolutely certain that Luke was ignoring him and that was more than partially to blame for the queasy sensation that spread all over his body.

"It seems like you're the only one," Vince scoffed, pushing the french fry around with viciousness and glaring at it. He couldn't fathom eating it, with how unsettled his stomach felt.

Leo let out a sigh, "that's not true, Vin." He was sitting back against Fredo's leather seats, finishing off his own burger, "Luke's a wreck, you two should really talk."

"Nothing to talk about," Vince grumbled, trying not to meet Leo's eyes and failing miserably when the blonde glared at him.

"Vince."

"He's just making everything worse," Vince groaned, wincing as his stomach cramped painfully, "it's hard enough leaving and it's hard enough that I'm gonna be four hours apart from my girlfriend and Luke- Luke's fucking everything up."

Leo raised his eyebrows, judgement rolling off of him and Vince ducked his head, muffling a burp against his fist. There was a burning in his chest that nothing could soothe.

"Vince."

"Stop looking at me like that."

"You say you wanna go, but I've never seen you look more miserable," Leo pointed out, his voice gentle, but firm, "look at me, Vin."

He did and immediately grimaced. There was nothing but support and concern in Leo's face, which Vince quickly found that he did not want. He much rather be yelled at, as he was sure Jonah or Bell would have.

"I'm okay."

"Bullshit," Leo sighed, rubbing his face, "don't lie to my face, okay? You're miserable."

Vince shrugged, "I will be okay... I got a job in Doverport."

Leo's eyebrows jumped up, "uhm... Congrats?" he said, unsure given the tone of the conversation, "what is it?"

"History teacher at the local public school," Vince picked at his nails, "I start in a week."

"That's great Vin! You've always wanted to teach..." Leo's voice trailed off and he let out a heavy sigh, "and you're not happy."

"What do you mean? Of course I a-"

"It wasn't a question," Leo twirled the coke in his cup with the metal straw, poking at the ice chips, "why are you moving if you don't want to?"

"I do want to," Vince sighed, giving up all pretense at trying to eat and his upbeat attitude, "I miss my parents, Leo. Which I know- Well, it's not something either of you guys is very familiar with, but I don't just love my family, okay? I like them. I genuinely enjoy spending time with them... And my parents are getting old and Sophia is leaving at the end of the year and I'll see her even less and Liv... I feel like I missed every single milestone? She's six, I- I came to college when I she had just learned to say my name..."

It was terrifying, to know he would be missing out on important memories with the ones he loved regardless of each town he picked.

"No, I get it," Leo nodded, then when Vin raised an eyebrow he rolled his eyes, "okay, fine, I don't get it. Not for a second, this is completely out of my reality... But I saw Jon with Angie this Christmas and how heartbroken he was over them not being closer. I saw Luke with his dad and how Kit doesn't even know him... And I know I spent my whole childhood wishing I had something like that," he shrugged, "so yeah, I don't get it, but I do."

Vince nodded, forcefully swallowing against the knot in his throat, "yeah..." he swallowed again, feeling clammy and ill, "it just sucks, because it feels like I'm letting everyone down and-"

"You're not," Leo reached over the table, grabbing Vin's wrist, "look, it's not you leaving, it's how you did it. At least with Wendy it is."

"You don't know Wendy," Vince scoffed, wiping the sweat collecting over his lip, "she's- She's heartbroken and furious and it's my fault."

"I do know Wendy," Leo rolled his eyes, "she's petty as fuck and she's loyal and she's independent and you asked her to give up her life and move with you after you spent two months lying to her face and leading her on."

Vince's eyes widened and he shook his head, "I didn't lie, I just- What was there to tell if I hadn't made up my mind? Nothing."

"She's your girlfriend, of course you could've said something," Leo glared at him, "you think I'd be happy if Jonah just up and decided something after months of thinking it, when he never shared the plans with me? When I wasn't a part of the conversation?"

As if the realization suddenly hit him, Vince mouthed around nothing, confused, "I didn't... I didn't think of that."

Leo let out a little snort, before starting to drink his coke. He waited, patiently, as Vince came to terms with the new realization.

It took him a minute to put it into words, but he did it, crumpling forward and shielding his face with his hands, saying in a muffled voice, "I fucked up."

"You fucked up," Leo agreed, trying not to sound too harsh, "but she still took you back, so I'm gonna guess you didn't fuck up that badly."

"God knows why she did," Vince grumbled, removing a hand from his face and staring at the table, looking like he wanted to say something and failing.

Leo's winced in sympathy, "look, we love you, Vin. All of us. That's not gonna change, okay? They'll get over it."

"Yeah," his friend nodded, not looking like he believed it, "you should come visit..." he didn't raise his eyes from the table, "I'm really going to miss you, kid."

Leo's valiant smile and upbeat attitude wavered a little and he only nodded, not quite managing to fake it, "yeah, I'll miss you too..."

"I think we should get going, I still have to hit the road..." Vince cringed just at the thought. His father had let him borrow the car, so he could retrieve all the boxes from Wendy's apartment and the trunk and backseat were already loaded up.

He still had to swing by his girlfriend's apartment to get some stuff and to say goodbye... And his stomach was burning just thinking of it.

Everything felt horrible, from getting up to hugging Leo goodbye, to driving away and the prospect of the four hours long drive before him... And saying goodbye to Wendy...

Vince was so caught up in his own angst, that he completely missed the car parked next to Wendy's pink one. He had started to sweat back in the restaurant, clammy perspiration over saying goodbye to Leo, but that by now he knew was more than just that.

He felt downright woozy during the elevator ride, the small lunch he had been able to force down starting to flip in his stomach. Vince leaned against Wendy's red front door, resting his forehead on it and took a measured breath.

He just had to fake it for half an hour more. Just enough to kiss her goodbye and try not to start crying over it and then...

"And you think it's the meds?" Wendy's voice travelled through the door and Vince groaned, as he quickly realized she had company, Bella's voice answering.

"I hope it's just the meds... I'm scared, Wendy - Fuck that, I'm overwhelmed..."

"Of course you are, it's a lot to handle on your own, Bells..."

Vince turned the doorknob, deciding to make his presence known sooner rather than later. He was already in both women's shit list, the last thing he wanted was to be accused of eavesdropping on them.

As soon as he opened the door, the talking died down and both girls turned to face him. Bella was leaning against the dining table, while Wendy was on the opposite side, putting the decor back on top of the table after they had lunch.

He could still smell it in the air, raspberry pie and something else.

"Oh hey, you're back early!" Wendy's voice went up a note, all awkward in a way that wasn't like her at all. She glanced nervously at Bella, who had crossed her arms defensively and raised her eyebrows.

"Hi," Bell said coolly and Vin all but flinched at her tone.

He loved this girl like a sister and it was a slap to the face to be treated like that.

"Hi," Vince gripped the doorknob, "I'm on my way out," which was the wrong thing to say, because Bell let out an incredulous, bitter scoff, while Wendy promptly dropped the vase she was holding down on the table, looking spooked.

"Already? I thought you were only leaving tonight..." She looked all heartbroken, "I thought we'd have more time-"

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out," Bella said and Vince reeled at her tone, while Wendy's mouth hung open, her heart shaped face turning pink.

"That's fucking enough, Bell," she glared at the ginger, "you can be civilized or you can leave."

A horrible warmth spread all over Vince and he breathed in deeply through his nose. The floor seemed to be swimming, nausea clinging to the back of his throat.

"I'm not gonna coddle him just because-"

"This isn't about Vince and you know it, you're letting your feelings get in the way-"

"Yeah, damn right I am!" Bella exclaimed, her voice a note louder and Vince groaned, as it made his head pound.

He was going to be sick.

His mouth filled with saliva and he gulped down nervously, trying to think through the horrible fog. He could bolt for the bathroom, but that would get them questioning him, besides... He really didn't want to impose on Wendy, she was already being too understanding-

"Helloooo? I'm talking with you, jackass," Bella's voice cut through the haze and Vince struggled to focus on her. She had moved closer, while Wendy was hot on her heels, looking flustered and pissed off.

"You really should go now, Bella-"

"Fuck no, I won't, not until he looks at me-"

"Move," Vince groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and darting a hand forward. It touched Bell's wrist and he squeezed it as well, "Bella, get out of the way-"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Bella's voice suddenly was much louder, "let go off me-" the implication of her words was more nauseating than anything and Vince's stomach surged up in his throat... And he didn't have it in him to even fight it.

He bent in half, shoving Bella back to avoid getting her combat boots covered in sick and then lost his lunch on Wendy's foyer. All over his boots.

Vince swayed on the spot, a cramp hitting him fiercely and he would've crumpled down to his knees, wasn't it for Bella grabbing him suddenly.

"Vince?! Vin, what the fuck!?" Bella exclaimed right next to his ear, her voice strained by the effort of keeping him collapsing. He was far too big for her, if his knees fully gave in, he'd pull them both down, "what's wrong? Are you sick? Are you hurt?!"

All that anger gone in the flick of a wrist.

Vince let out a groan, squeezing his stomach. Everything felt horrible, his head felt completely disconnected from his body, his belly was sour and far from empty, churning up a storm and he was freezing...

"Aw honey," Wendy's voice, a balm to his nerves, made Vince open his eyes. A towel had already been draped over the puddle of sick and his girlfriend had wrapped her arm around his opposite side, helping Bella hold him up, "you're not well, I can feel the fever from here..."

"I'm g-" His throat constricted and Vince gulped down against the knot in there, "gon'besick..."

"Yeah, help us," Bella gasped, sounding worried and frustrated as they tried to move him to the bathroom. Without his help, not even in a pair they could do much.

Vince nodded, shivering violently and leaning on them, using all his force to move. He collapsed down on the bathroom floor, taking Bella with him since she was the one further inside.

There wasn't much time to think as he pushed the toilet lid up and tried, vaguely, not to cause a bigger mess. His stomach cramped again, squeezing, and Vince white knuckled the porcelain, heaving.

A hand cupped his forehead, supporting his heavy head and Vince leaned into the soft touch with a sob. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, flip flopping between the horrible sensation of his body and the confusion and hurt over the previous interaction.

"I'm-ssssorry..." Vince slurred, sounding and feeling drunk, trying to get rid of the line of thick spit dangling from his bottom lip.

"Shut up," Bella said quietly, dabbing his lip with a wad of toilet paper, "jesus, you're soaked..."

"Here," Wendy, crouching down next to them, planting a humid washcloth to the back of his neck. Vince let his eyes slip closed, immediately regretting it as in the darkness he could feel the room twirling around him-

"Arms up," Bella, grabbing his elbow, "c'mon, big guy, help me here."

"Whataare... What are you doing...?" Vince forced his eyes open and realized he was no longer slumped over the toilet, but propped against the cold wall of the bathroom. Wendy was standing near the sink, re-wetting the washcloth.

"You're boiling," Bell explained, all soft, "we need to get your temperature down."

He really didn't feel like he could trust her, not after all the yelling, not after she had been ignoring him... Besides, it was freezing.

"No, 'mnot..."

"Yes, you are, Vin," Bella pushed his damp hair back, looking terribly concerned, "this is going to help, okay?"

"Uhm-" he couldn't help but lean on her touch, letting his eyes close. Sure, he was hurt over Bell's words and she was pissed at him, but it was still Bella...

"Honey," Wendy, patting his cheek, "Vin, open your eyes... Vin..."

He tried to force them open, ready to cry over not being able to just fucking sleep. Being awake just meant feeling like he was about to spew the food he had eaten back in 8th grade, he'd much rather sleep-

"Vince," Wendy shook him a little harder and Vince opened his eyes. He was shirtless now, which was more than a little concerning. He didn't remember taking his shirt off.

Bella was perched on the bathtub, watching over them, and Wendy was crouched in front of him, cupping his face.

Vince's head swam as he tried to focus on his girlfriend. Wendy's eyes were the size of platters, all worried.

"Hi..."

"Hey," she forced a smile, stroking his cheek, "how are you feeling?"

"Like crap," Vince groaned and couldn't help a small smile as he heard Bella snort.

"Yeah?" Wendy rolled her eyes, "when did you start feeling sick, honey?"

"Uhm..." Vince winced as another cramp hit him and he curled up, sucking in the air. It took a second to breath through the hot, sharp pain and as soon as the iron grip in his inside eased, a new wave of nausea hit him. He was sweating, gulping nervously as his mouth watered and his tongue felt too big for his mouth, "don't feel good..."

"I know, sweetheart," Wendy smoothed his hair back, "I just need to know for how long this has been going on. Were you sick this morning?"

She sounded so... Calm. So gentle. Somewhere in the recess of his mind Vince knew this wasn't a good thing, that this was Wen using her doctor voice. The last thing he wanted was to be an even bigger bother-

Tears stung his eyes and Vince curled up even more, turning his head away from Wendy... His eyes paused on Bella and she looked horribly guilty. Twice as concerned. None of the calm that Wendy sported, panic was written all over her face.

"I'm so sorry," she said before Vince could say anything and a sob bubbled up, making his whole frame shake. Vince ducked his head, he didn't want to cry, but the fever was frying at his nerves and before he head any control over it, big fat tears started to run down his cheeks.

"Hey, hey..." Wendy whispered, moving up and wrapping her arms around him, pulling Vince into a tight hug, "hey, I got you. You're okay-"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her hair, words sticking together, shaking them both, "I'm sorry, I don't- I'm making a mess, I've made a mess-"

"No, no, we're fine," Wendy squeezed him, kissing the side of his head, "we're working through it, right? We're okay- You're okay-"

"No, I'm not, I don't- I hate this. Everything is wrong and I feel wrong, and-" Vince sobbed, his words jumbling together in one continuous stream that made no sense even to his own ears and suddenly there was another pair of arms wrapped around him, squeezing him even tighter than Wendy was.

"B-Bell...?"

"I'm here- You-you're okay," she mumbled, voice muffled since Bella's cheek was squished to his shoulder, "we're okay, alright? We're gonna be okay."

"But- but you hate..." Vince whimpered and Bella pulled back, all but replacing Wendy in cupping his face, forcing their eyes to meet.

"No, I'm furious at you, I don't hate you," she glared at him, "not for a second, Vin."

This was all very touching, but Vince's stomach apparently hadn't gotten the memo he was having a moment, because suddenly he was gagging.

Bella jumped out of the way and both women pushed him forward to lean over the bowl, just in time for the rest of his stomach lining to make a reappearance. He coughed and coughed, but there wasn't much more to bring up and Vince was left panting and sobbing, curled up over the toilet bowl.

He felt Bella's fingers moving through his sweaty hair, Wendy squeezing his arm as she got up from the ground, "stay with him, I'm gonna settle the room. Clearly he's not stopping any time soon."

Vince groaned, he didn't need Bell to sit with him, he didn't need a nanny... Bella flicked at his ear.

"No one said anything about you needing a nanny," she scoffed, before continuing to comb his hair, "you seem hellbent on throwing up on me."

Vince let out a surprised chuckle, eyes closed as he breathed through the nausea that was starting back up, "it's the least you deserve after yelling at me like that."

Bella snorted, running her hand up and down his naked back, "god, I'm gonna fucking miss you."

[strwberri-milk]

Hi again!!♡♡

I wanna request for rafayel and kaveh,(if possible) cause I've been listening to writing on the wall on repeat rn. And thought, what if they had an s/o that's an artist; they sold a piece of art for a high price, but slowly felt like it wasn't enough, as the painting for them felt priceless. Because they put so much effort, experience, and emotion into that single painting for an entire year, the amount of their energy put into that painting didn't compare to how much they've sold it for. They're trying to recreate it over and over again but just can't Because it's a painting they can only do once, as again, the emotions and experiences of each paintings were different.

I just thought, as they're also artists, I wonder how they'd react to it- or maybe I have been just listening too much on writing on the wall😭

But yea! Much love and drink lots of water♡♡♡

Rafayel sees how much you're struggling to recreate the piece. He's spent a lot of time just sitting with you too as you work, trying to understand what the best way to talk to you would be.

He can understand your struggle to an extent - his relationship with his pieces isn't always as intimate as some other artists' are, or how people think he should. He's not apathetic, it's more that he's happy to have created it and doesn't really mind it being sold off - especially when that money is used to spoil you.

When you get more upset about failing to recreate the piece he'll pull you onto his lap and tell you that it's alright. You don't need to recreate it to do something great - he's already seen how amazing you are and your life isn't based on just one creation.

He'll tell you to take a break for a while, knowing that forcing yourself into working on something new wouldn't help. However, to make sure you don't end up in a total pit of despair he'll subtly ask you to help with his paintings, sure to credit your work with every time they're shown off.

Slowly you'll regain confidence in your skills again, proud to see the work you can do alongside Rafayel's own confident brushstrokes. You start to progress on your own projects, finding yourself finally able to create for yourself. Rafayel will consult with you on future projects before you sell something though. Seeing how distraught you were upset him so he's going to help you choose wisely whether or not you want to sell a piece in the future.

One evening you return from a late night event. Rafayel elected to stay home for the day and you sigh to yourself as you take your shoes off before heading off to bed. You drop your shoes in shock when you see the painting you created hung up on display in the main part of Rafayel's living room, a shit eating grin on his face as you jump into his arms and thank him for bringing your baby back to you. It doesn't undo any of your progress thankfully - Rafayel just decided he wanted the painting too.

Kaveh totally understands. His works are much different than yours since he doesn't ever really keep them but he does understand the devotion you feel.

He'll mourn with you, recounting the countless hours you've spent working on it as you cry in his arms, berating yourself for selling the painting for less than the worth you strongly believed it deserved.

He'll take you for a walk and you don't really understand why he's doing it until he starts pointing out buildings he's designed and tells you the difficulties he endured to see them completed. He tells you how proud he is when he sees people admiring his work, or how happy he is to be commissioned because he knows people are seeking him out specifically.

He relates the selling of your art piece to how he can't ever really keep his works to himself. Everything he makes is for others but he still finds himself missing them so he finds little ways to keep them in mind. Typically that means keeping his blueprints or taking photos of the completed project. He tells you you've got some of those things with the thumbnails in your sketchbook or the progress photos you took.

He helps you feel better after beating yourself up for so long and you thank him with a big hug, agreeing to join him on his walks should he feel like visiting his projects on another occasion.

[lavender-romancer]

What Does He Have That I Don't?

Imelda Reyes x Reader Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Imelda didn't understand the feelings going on in her own head, but she understood even less why you would be in love with someone who was so terrible for you.

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

Whether it was flying, or herbology or exploring Hogwarts, you and Imelda had always been together. Learning new spells with one another and talking about the latest gossip going around the school- usually including Gareth Weasley’s explosive potions. Everything felt so… correct. You were usually only with one another, slept in the same dorm, had classes and free time together. It made sense that you spent weekends together and just about every other bit of time.

You became closer and closer, Imelda opened up to you about the pressures of her family and how she never felt she could fail at anything because of how disappointed they would be. She had never talked to anyone about it before but she wanted to tell you everything.

This had never happened before, sure Imelda had had friends but nothing like this. It felt different. When she thought back on it, she might have felt a similar way towards Nerida but it still wasn’t the same as this. She wanted to stroke your hair, have you fall asleep on her, kiss you and- Imelda stopped her train of thought and opened her eyes wide. She ran to the nearest bathroom and leant over the basin, gripping the sides so hard she thought she might break it. She wanted to… kiss you? This couldn't be right. Maybe she didn't get enough sleep or something. She did not want to kiss her friend. From that moment, Imelda made herself believe that.

You continued to get close with one another and trust each other even more. With Imelda making things up like; you have something in your hair, let me get it out or I've started to learn palm reading, can I try it on you? Just so she could feel your warmth, imagine that you looked at her the same way you looked at him.

As soon as he came into your life you were transfixed, all you could talk about was him and how brilliant he was. Imelda just had to hold her tongue because if she told you how much she despised Sallow you would only push her away.

How could she tell you about the feelings she was having when she didn't even understand them herself? How could she tell you that the feelings she had for you were the same Sebastian had for you? Imelda was outwardly headstrong but her anxiety got the better of her in many situations, the whole of her friendship with you had felt like a huge experiment into how deep her imposter syndrome went. She never felt good enough to be your friend, or that she deserved your friendship. Now it was exacerbated to breaking point. Imelda knew she would be better for you than him, she knew that she could give you so much more, care about you more and never make you cry. But alas, you would still collapse onto your bed with a satisfied sigh and talk nonstop about how Sebastian had smiled at you in potions class.

Every night Sallow would knock on the dorm room you and Imelda shared to say goodnight or take you off gallivanting round the school or the Highlands. It usually gave Imelda time to wallow, she had never been this bad of a loser in all of her time in quidditch. She couldn't stand the fact that you looked at Sallow the way you did. The two of them seemed ridiculously in love and Imelda dreamed of you looking at her like that. She knew it was wrong and her family would never accept it. But she couldn't hold it in.

What was happening? Why was she feeling this way about her friend? Having to turn away when you were changing your clothes because it suddenly felt like an invasion of privacy or, when they would talk about crushes Imelda would always have to lie and choose some random boy. Was this normal, or just another thing that would make people despise her? She respected you too much to ruin your life by revealing this dark secret no matter how much it was slowly killing her from the inside out.

Regardless of knowing Sallow was a fucking idiot who would never prioritise you, Imelda knew she would put her all into caring for you. She already did but not in the same way Sallow could. A jealousy bubbled inside her that constantly threatened to jump out at anyone who dared question her. She had taken to spending more time alone because hearing you talk for the umpteenth time about the same boy made her chest hurt by this point. You told Imelda about how he had made you cry, that he had cast the cruciatus curse on you for a fucking book or something. Imelda wanted to kill him right there and then, but you explained it away and went back to fawning over him. How could you not see that he only cared about his own interests?

Some days Imelda felt like challenging Sebastian to a duel or something of that nature. He didn't deserve you- not that Imelda thought she deserved you either- and could never treat you with the amount of care you deserved. You deserved the world, all the riches in existence and the softest hands to care and look after you. After all the hardships and loss in your life you didn't need anyone else hurting you.

Today was an evening like many others when Sallow knocked at the dormitory door and Imelda wrapped a robe around herself before returning to her bed. You jumped up excitedly and opened the door, but something happened that made Imelda have to catch her breath. They kissed. A short and brief kiss, but a kiss all the same almost like they were used to doing it by now and we're just saying goodnight in the shroud of familiarity. Imelda turned onto her side, facing away from your bed and did anything she could to get that image out of her head. Over and over it played, a cruel reminder that people like her would never have the chance to prove they were just as devoted and loving.

After that moment, Imelda stayed so far away from you that a lot of people were noticing it. Even Ominis had asked Imelda if there was an issue because you had been upset. But Imelda brushed it off saying that she was focussing on her studies. It had been months by now. Months of excusing herself from situations where you were, going to bed early so that you didn't have time to debrief at the end of the day. Imelda couldn't see you without wanting to cry, that fucker Sallow was your boyfriend. The two of them were bonafide lovers and it made Imelda hate herself more every day.

Imelda felt like she was floating through life with nothing to keep her grounded. Nothing to root her to reality as her heart continued to break, she had begun silently crying herself to sleep. Nothing could fix this because you didn't want her, you only wanted him. Maybe one day Imelda would be able to tell you the truth but she had begun to realise that you had probably begun to hate her. Their friendship was barely intact and it was Imelda who had been pulling away the whole time, you probably felt abandoned.

This hurt had to happen, for the both of you. Without it Imelda couldn't leave you, she missed you so intensely it hurt but when she left Hogwarts she wouldn't have to worry. In a few months she could switch dorms, forget any of it ever happened and if that meant you would be stuck with Sallow, that was how it was meant to be. The story that Imelda had inside herself was never to be told, she would never love freely. Maybe it was dramatic but every time she looked at you it felt wrong, it felt like this was meant to be. If you only felt the same.

[siriannatan]

Prep & Punk - Flower Husbands

AU by @vyeoh, it's really cool and stuff and all their art is really good

AO3

[Treebark thingy from this AU]

Jimmy would literally rather be anywhere but where he was now. In Scott's bedroom. Trying to focus on maths. With only him and Scott in the whole house. Completely unable to focus.

Why was Jimmy spending his weekend with Scott and not Grian and Joel? As much as studying wasn't a 'bad boy' thing,  almost failing most his classes was apparently even less so. So their math teacher assigned Jimmy a tutor - Scott apparently volunteered to spend his time trying to get some information into Jimmy's head. He had no idea why after their last rather messy break up and the whole Tango thing... jimmy tried really hard to think about geometry and not that. It wasn't all that hard. But quite frankly focusing on anything right now was a bit difficult.

In the past three months, he spend pretty much ignoring Scott's existence he forgot about a certain habit Scott had. He liked to wear skirts. Not a bad thing in the slightest. Jimmy was all for everyone wearing whatever they wanted. He, Grian and Joel had their leather jackets. Cleo, Scar and Bdoubs their weird old people shades, and Tango and his friends had their ties. Scott and Martyn had Pink. The capital 'P' is not a typo. Literally every Wednesday the two showed up in pink. And back when Jimmy was dating Scott he himself would wear something pink to fit Scott better. 

Grian and Joel still poked fun at him for that.

No. The skirt was neither nothing new or a problem in itself. The problem was how much of Scott's legs it exposed, making Jimmy's brain unable to think about anything but that. And suddenly realise he's missing Scott. But who could blame him? Scott was damn pretty and smart and... just Scott. And that maybe his marks were better when he'd sit around Scott and Martyn - very unhappy that Scott would explain everything to Jimmy at least three times - studying. Jimmy was no Grian or Joel, just hearing about a thing during the class was not nearly enough for him.

A sudden flick to his forehead had him looking up at Scott's face. It was no less distracting than the skirt. "Eyes up here Jim," he chuckled and Jimmy felt a weird pang. He never called him back when... "Have you heard a single word of what I just said?"

"Juliet's potion only made her look like she died?" Jimmy tried to scrabble together something they talked about in the past hour. He instantly knew he was wrong by the sigh Scott let out.

"We're at maths, Pythagorean theorem," he said but did not sound the slightest bit angry. Just a bit disappointed and maybe sad. "You didn't use to be that bad, Jim, no matter how short of a skirt I wore in the past. What happened?" he asked, pushing some hair off of Jimmy's face.

Jimmy just shrugged. He was not about to admit he didn't really study without Scott there. "I don't know," he shrugged instead and tried to focus on the pale pink, full of colourful side comments and sticky notes page of Scott's notebook. Scott's notes were always so clear and easy to understand. Jimmy sat through more than one session of Scott working on them and technically understood how it worked but was still beyond impressed. "I guess I was busy with other things..."

"I know I'm probably the least 'bad boy' person you know but you know you can always come and ask me if you don't understand something?" Scott sighed, leaning back and gently kicking Jimmy under the low table they were sitting on a fluffy carpet by. "I know you probably like Tango better... I can see when I've lost but... I don't want you to fail school. Not when I know you're smarter than that," he said, looking away from Jimmy, all slumped and sad and Jimmy felt mildly like a jerk.

He broke Scott's heart with a damn text. Managed to stay together with Tango for only like a month until they both realised they are too different. And then spend two more months avoiding Scott and admitting his own feelings. And throwing all the studying Scott practically dragged him through away... "No... Me and Tango... We weren't all that compatible... Not that way. He's cool to hang out with but most of the time I have no idea what he's talking about, it's damn hard to keep up with him..."

"Jim... please don't..." Scott protested and pounded the table. Glaring at Jimmy with teary eyes.

"I'm not," Jimmy stopped him and gently took his and in both of his. "I've spent three months being an idiot and I'm frankly done with that. I missed you. I missed carrying your bag. I missed you leaning on me when there are no free chairs or we're stuck in a line. I missed sitting silently while you study. I even missed Martyn's grumbling. But mostly I missed listening to you talk and just being around you... I missed you Scott," Jimmy really hoped he managed to express what he just realised. That his grouchy and angry phase was just him denying he was missing Scott playing with his hair and playing with Scott's hair. "I miss you so damn much..." he added, barely a whisper, not daring to look away from Scott for even a second.

"You promise... you promise it's all true and nothing but?" Scott sniffed, staring at his held by Jimmy's hands. 

"I do, Scott," Jimmy nodded. He was never so sure of anything he's ever said.

"So it'd be okay if I said we should have a break and maybe a nap?" Scott asked with a pout.

Jimmy had nothing against a break and a nap. Maybe ended up texting home he'd be staying over at Scott's and not at all telling Grian and Joel where he was the whole weekend. And maybe Scott wore Jimmy's leather jacket the whole Monday. And maybe there was a bright pink hairpin in Jimmy's hair.

[reallygroovyninja]

The Break Up

Clarke's finger hovered over the call button, hesitation flooding through her. She glanced at the clock - 10PM in California meant 1AM in New York. Was it too late? Lexa always told her to call no matter when, insisting that she'd always pick up. But things had changed between them over the past few months. The distance between the two coasts had created a chasm even their daily calls couldn't bridge. 

She tapped the familiar icon on her phone, the rings seeming sluggish, amplifying her nerves. 

"Clarke?" Lexa's husky voice was thick with sleep. A pang of guilt hit Clarke for waking her girlfriend. 

"Hey," Clarke started softly. "Did I wake you? I can let you go back to sleep and just talk tom-" 

"No, no it's okay. Is everything alright?" Lexa's tone shifted to concern. Even half asleep, she was still taking care of Clarke. 

Clarke sighed, tears pricking unexpectedly. "Not really. I just..." Her voice caught. She couldn't bear to say the words out loud, couldn't voice what she knew they both were thinking. That long distance wasn't working for them. That as much as they didn’t want to admit it, they needed to have a heartbreaking discussion about the fate of their relationship and what came next. 

The deafening silence on the line said it all. Clarke imagined Lexa on the other end nodding slowly, both reluctance and grief etched on her features even without seeing her face. Here came the conversation Clarke had been dreading for weeks. The distance seemed destined to end them despite their best efforts. 

Clarke gripped the phone tighter, her knuckles turning white. She squeezed her eyes shut as the first tears escaped down her cheeks. 

"I miss you," Clarke whispered, the words cracking with emotion. She missed everything - Lexa's smile, her laugh, the feeling of her arms wrapped tightly around her. Video calls and phone conversations were no longer enough. Not when there had once been lazy Sundays tangled together in bed and long walks hand-in-hand along the Potomac River without the pressure of time difference schedules. 

"I miss you too, Clarke," came Lexa's shattered reply. Miles away yet connected by the slim electronic lifeline, Clarke could picture Lexa's stoic armor falling away, eyebrows knit together while she held back her own tears. 

"But...I think we need to talk..." Clarke forced herself to say. The seven dreaded words no one in a relationship ever wants to hear. But the distance had strained them to a breaking point - separate cities, increasingly separate lives. As much as Clarke wanted to cling to what they once had, it didn't exist anymore. 

"I think you're right," Lexa's voice wavered slightly despite the even tone. She had always been able to read Clarke so well. They had both known a reckoning was coming, as much as their hearts silently raged against the mere idea. 

Clarke took a shuddering breath, wiping the tears from her eyes. She focused on the painting leaning against the bare wall of her apartment, grounding herself for the devastating but inevitable conversation about to unfold. 

"I just...I feel like we're drifting apart," Clarke whispered, giving voice to the fears that had been plaguing her for weeks. "Like we're becoming strangers." 

She heard Lexa let out a shaky breath. "I've felt that too. At first, I thought it was just starting new jobs and getting settled in our cities, but..." 

"But it's more than that," Clarke finished for her. Long distance was supposed to be temporary - they had clung fiercely to that belief in the beginning. That after a year apart chasing career dreams on opposite coasts, they'd reunite and start building a life together again. 

It had seemed possible when granted with everyday moments like Lexa's small, sleepy smile in the morning or the brush of her fingers along Clarke's arm. Things video calls failed to replicate at their now fractured foundation. 

"Maybe if the distance was less..." Clarke's voice trailed off wistfully, knowing not even the entire breadth of the country could be blamed alone. Something else had fractured between them too. The easy affection, unquestioned devotion, shared dreams for the future...all casualties gradually inflicted not solely by physical separation but a growing emotional chasm too. 

"I want this to work, I do." The catch in Lexa's words splintered Clarke's heart further. "I love you, I'll always love you. But wanting that doesn't change what's happening between us." 

A lonely tear trailed down Clarke's cheek. The hardest relationships to end were often the deepest loves too. 

A sob caught in Clarke's throat as the weight of Lexa's words sank in. She loves me. Present tense, not past. And yet...it still isn't enough. 

Clarke blinked back the threat of more tears, trying to swallow the sadness rising within her. "I know," she finally managed to say. "I love you too." She poured every ounce of feeling into those four words, hoping Lexa could still sense her heart even so many miles away. 

"But you're right," Clarke made herself continue after a painful pause. As agonizing as this conversation was, she owed Lexa the truth of her feelings, no matter how much the reality hurt them both. 

"The distance, stretched over months...we can't pretend it hasn't changed things." Once upon a happier time, Lexa had felt like her anchor amidst any storm. But now Clarke only felt her absence, like a ship adrift without its mooring. "We've both got separate lives now. I barely know what's going on in your world anymore...and you in mine." 

Silence stretched between them - Clarke picturing Lexa sitting on her sofa, shoulders slumped forward, dark waves of hair curtaining her face. She ached to brush those strands back, let her fingertips graze Lexa's cheek, re-memorize every beloved detail of her features. 

Finally, Lexa's somber voice came, quavering on just two shattering syllables. "So...what happens now?" 

The question neither one wanted to ask but had to, the one that would inexorably lead to goodbye. Because the only thing worse than the painful realization they had been growing apart would be denying it while staying together in name alone. 

Clarke's breath caught in her throat at the question. What did happen now? The obvious answer loomed before them - the necessity of ending things if they were both feeling the relationship fracture. 

And yet...the years of history they shared made the notion nearly unfathomable. How could she just cut the tether they had created day by day? Lexa had been her first love, the one who unexpectedly burst into her world and changed her entire concept of relationships. 

Clarke pinched her eyes closed, forcing aside the fresh swell of tears. She focused on steadying her uneven breath, trying to calm the storm inside her heart. 

"I don't know," she finally admitted, the words barely a whisper. Because the truth was she wanted Lexa in her life in any way possible, even if that meant redefining the parameters of their relationship. The title seemed insignificant compared to keeping Lexa's steadfast care and understanding rooted in her world. 

"Can we just...talk? Not make any big decisions now?" Clarke asked hesitantly. She knew the sensible decision loomed before them, but the reminder of Lexa's love made her long to cling to these last lingering threads between them. Surely there was still something worth saving if they both still felt such depth of emotion? 

The extended silence magnified Clarke's nerves. Would Lexa agree they owed it to their history to try talking first? Or had the distance grown so vast already that she would insist on a clean break? Clarke held her breath, praying Lexa's heart would echo her own in those agonizing moments. 

Clarke heard Lexa take a shaky breath on the other end of the line. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentle but firm. 

“I think if we’re both feeling things changing between us, then talking more right now might just prolong the inevitable,” she said quietly. 

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears spill down her cheeks. She had feared Lexa would say that but still couldn’t stop the renewed ache in her chest. 

“This is so damn hard,” Clarke whispered brokenly. “I can’t imagine you not in my life anymore.” 

“Me neither,” Lexa replied, and Clarke could hear the barely contained emotion in her words. “But with how things are now...I think some space would be best. For both of us.” 

Clarke nodded before remembering Lexa couldn’t see her. As rational as the suggestion was, the thought of losing even their nightly calls felt unbearable. 

“Maybe one day, when enough time has passed...we could try to be friends?” Lexa offered tentatively. “But right now I think a clean break is what we need to heal.” 

Clarke swallowed back a sob, wiping fiercely at her eyes. She had to be strong now, with Lexa’s emotions likely just as fractured. 

“You’re right,” Clarke forced herself to say. As agonizing as this was, she knew Lexa enough to recognize the wisdom in her suggestion. “I’ll always be grateful for our time together.” 

She left the ‘I love you’ unspoken this time, the finality of this goodbye conversation settling around her shoulders with profound weight. The first crack in her heart split wide open, and she could almost hear Lexa’s fracturing too through the phone pressed to her ear. 

"So I guess this is it then," Clarke said softly, the words barely making it past the lump in her throat. 

She was met with deafening silence on the other end of the line. Somehow Lexa not responding hurt more than if she had simply said goodbye and ended the call. Clarke could practically see her love struggling to maintain composure, emerald eyes glistening with restrained tears. 

"Lexa?" Clarke prompted gently when the quiet stretched on, laced with unspoken hurt. 

"I'm still here," came the whispered reply, Lexa's voice finally breaking on the last word. 

Clarke's heart shattered at the sound. As stoic and measured as Lexa tried to be, she had always worn her emotions when it came to them. Another reminder of the profound connection now rupturing. 

"I wish we had a choice other than this," Clarke admitted sorrowfully. She knew Lexa was right - some space was the only path forward - but every fiber of her being railed against losing her best friend and closest confidante. 

"Me too," Lexa echoed thickly. 

They fell silent again, thousands of memories passing almost tangibly between them through the phone line. Lazy mornings under the covers, hands clasped as they explored new cities, the brush of lips upon meeting at the end of long days...all memories now piercing them with bittersweet nostalgia. 

Finally, Lexa cleared her throat. When she spoke, steel resolve underpinned her words despite the wavering grief. 

"Be well, Clarke." 

Not goodbye. Just a simple wish for happiness in their new separate worlds. Fresh tears flooded Clarke's eyes but she managed to echo it back, the closest they could come to closure. 

"You too. Take care of yourself, Lexa." 

A soft click echoed with finality. And just like that, she was gone. 

[cursedvibes]

The more I think about this chapter and read others takes the less negative I’ve become towards it. I’m just neutral now and if anything I quite like a lot of things in here, especially since the full TCB translations are out now. I’m still disgruntled about Yuuji like literally being thrown to the side though.

I never cared for Yuuta but he did need a last hoorah, so I hope it is a last hoorah that Yuuta fans find good.

It has been interesting seeing people’s takes on the story and what the theme of the story is meant to be. I actually kind of disagree with the takes that JJK is a nihilistic story, for how dark and gritty it can be it very much seems to be a story of hope and change than just a story where good people fail.

I have settled my emotions a bit too. Mostly just feel tired. My main issue is like you said that Yuuji is just getting thrown to the side when we finally get a tense moment between him and Sukuna. Gege really wants to stretch that fight. Yuuji was literally digging into his chest after just landing a Black Flash. Sukuna apparently felt so threatened that he healed his brain and CT, which is quite risky, to cast a domain. But then he can just shove Yuuji away and that's it? Also this Sukuna vs Gojo rehash is for one redundant and also very ill-timed. They could've done this when Sukuna was about to unleash Furnace or his altered domain. When people were actually in danger and Yuuta's sacrifice could've meant something. Yuuta gives a very passionate speech, but the whole time I just have to think that that's really not needed. If they need back-up, the people who got transported away could just come back. Maki's Soul Blade actually seems much more useful here, since we know hurting Sukuna's soul is how you actually get him down.

Also, Yuuta telling Maki that she doesn't understand what it means to be a monster and that she's scared leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. He didn't directly target her, but maybe have some self-awareness about who you're talking to? Not ooc though I would say, nor the rest of his speech and plan.

Another thing that I find confusing is why Yuuta can't heal himself, but is then able to grow Gojo's body together. If it's because of the stitches, Shoko could've stitched up his real body too. Could be that Kenjaku's technique gives a healing boost after the transfer, but they don't talk about that and I don't know how they would know that either. Nobody has ever seen Kenjaku change vessels.

But yeah, overall my reaction is just "do we need to do this again?". I don't agree with the criticisms I've seen that this is too dark, too bleak, too immoral, irredeemable and especially all those comparisons to horror and psychothriller stories. Seems to come also a lot from the people who think Choso's death was bad. Like using Gojo's body like that is grim, it shows how rotten jujutsu society is and that they perpetuate this mindset even in the students, but I think it just shows Yuuta breaking under pressure and emphasizing certain character flaws of his. A negative development. Not necessarily bad. If anything it shows why Yuuji can be the only one to defeat Sukuna because he doesn't give in to Sukuna's believes and he won't let the jujutsu system rob him of his value of life. Even if he sees himself as a tool, he does not treat others like that and he has always been someone who saw Gojo as a human first and the strongest sorcerer second. I wouldn't even say jjk is bleak right now. People have died and Yuuta threw his humanity away, but they are still gradually chipping away at Sukuna.

Certainly not nihilistic. There are very clear values governing the whole story as seen by the dichotomy of Sukuna and Yuuji. I do think they could've been put more into focus by using Shinjuku Showdown to highlight both of their mindsets and hone in more on Sukuna and Yuuji's mentality through it, but it's far from being nihilistic. Everything has meaning, Yuuta just now made the choice to compromise his previous morals. That doesn't mean the overall message is mute. Yuuta only played a small part in it to begin with after all. It's character development for him, but not a complete overthrow of the story's themes. He was told to become stronger he needs to throw away his humanity and disregard others. The challenge for him was to fight while still maintaining his humanity at the cost of not being The Strongest. He failed and also hasn't fully committed to that path, he's just perpetuating Gojo's dehumanization by saying there needs to be someone to fill that role. Someone who needs to stand at the top, despite even Gojo saying (or previously believing) that this burden shouldn't be carried by just one person. That's why he raised the students to be strong. Not quite the right approach either and not a break of the principles of jujutsu society, but certainly not what Yuuta took away from all this that there needs to be one pillar of strength far removed from the others who does the dirty work for them.

So like there is something there in the chapter, an attempt was made to say something, even though I don't think it quite stuck the landing. Doesn't make me especially ecstatic for the next chapters either though.

[desceros]

i don’t think you have to apologize at all for not having a symphony update tbh! it’s very gracious of you to do so but i hope people remember that it’s your passion project first and foremost and not anything any of us readers (regardless of how involved or invested you allow us to be) should feel we have any say over, schedule wise. i love your writing and will always wait for it, and know a lot of your other readers will probably say the same!

(as an aside: something i noted when i first started following you in december was how prolific you were… like the fact i could check your blog every day and there was some food?? i was floored. but even your current posting sched impresses me—the fact that you say you’ll have something out one day and on that day IT IS OUT. idk maybe i am used to my old fandoms being more casual or being interrupted by life, as fandoms with adults tend to be like. so you writing and sharing as much as you do is not something i take for granted. thank you as always.)

(i hope this message reads as appreciative / friendly as i intend it to be hhhh… i’m sorry if not…)

thank you for your kind message! i have a rather long one in return, i do apologize, but it is me, so we should probably have all seen it coming! :D

so, i've kind of talked about it here and there, but i have a wrist that is pretty sensitive to overworking. in high school, i would practice music for hours and hours every day without properly stretching or taking breaks, because no one told me i should do so. as a result, i really wrecked the tendons, and my ulnar nerve in particular has a tendency to flare up. it's quite painful when it hurts, and before it starts properly hurting, i experience i kind of buzzing numbness that is distinctly uncomfortable. it's not severe enough for surgical intervention, but it's definitely a limiting factor in what i'm capable, mechanically, of doing in a day.

back around november/december, i was posting a lot more. but that was with me disregarding my wrist and pushing through the pain, such that for the first couple of weeks in january it was nearly impossible for me to write. this was emotionally agonizing, because i love writing so, so much, and i wanted to share everything in my head with all of you! i felt like i was failing on a precedent i had set for myself, and it's very irritating seeing my mountain of projects getting bigger because i can't write quickly enough to put a dent in it and not just because i was coming up with more ideas (which is, to be clear, still suuuuch a problem haahahhaa).

it got to the point where i started confiding in my partner and my friends about my issue, and they all insisted that i start slowing down. and they're right! i was being reckless with my health, knowingly this time, and they're absolutely correct that i need to take breaks. take days where i don't write. days where i rest, and stretch, and let my wrist heal and recover.

i know it sucks as a reader, i really do, especially if you came on board during that time when i was being super active. and i'm not apologizing, per se, since i'm certainly not going to apologize for prioritizing health over hobby. but i do understand the... hm. i'm going to say frustration, but perhaps i mean the disappointment, or the whiplash maybe, from having someone going from posting very very frequently to less so. i'm still what i'd categorize as an active, prolific writer, but it is infuriating to know that, without this injury, i'd be capable of much more. it annoys me to no end, i swear! but i am purposefully stepping back, for my health, and for the worry of my friends and love ones.

all that said! nothing is on hiatus, nothing is being cancelled, none of that. it's just going to take me longer to work through things than any of us would like, hahahaha. so i really do thank you for your sweet and encouraging message, and i appreciate all of you for every thoughtful wish you send, all of your funny comments on my fics, and your support. i'm actually getting to the happy problem that there are so many that it's not quite feasible for me to respond to all of them individually, but i do read and treasure each one. this is the most uplifting, positive fandom i've ever experienced, and it really does make a difference as a writer knowing that people are filled with joy when i share my art and then go and spin that joy back out into the world.

[cellard0ors]

I don't know if this is the same anon twice or if two different anons are asking the same question in a different way, but my personal NSFW head canons for hackearney are thus (and spoiler alert, I've written a good few of them):

Travis:

* LOVES Laura's breasts. They're one of his favorite things to play with and touch.

* Enjoys taking Laura from behind, but is still a wee bit self conscious about it - because what was once considered taboo is now vanilla doesn't change the fact that Travis grew up during that taboo time. If his Ma knew he'd fantasized about that sort of thing growing up...😬

* Honestly could care less about his own pleasure. Sure, he enjoys blowjobs and the like, but his partner's pleasure is what really gets him going. It's how he's always approached sex, because while he enjoys it, he's never taken much from it. EXCEPT, of course, when it's Laura - from that he takes everything, because it means so much to him.

* Travis loves going down on Laura - this is just a hackearney staple in the ship, tbh - I just agree with it like every other shipper 🤣

Laura:

* Dirty talks - otherwise he doesn't make much sound during sex past groaning

* Knows Laura probably has sex toys but doesn't like to think about it. Partly due to jealousy and partly due to the frustration that he can't just magically appear when she feels like sex

* Worries about his age and sex drive thanks to their age gap. There's been a few sex fails and he feels they're all his fault - Laura tells him otherwise, but it's a concern.

*... clearly the only solution to the problem is to make sure he has sex with Laura as often as possible.

* Dated quite a bit before Travis - even before Max! Most of the relationships were the innocent kind of puppy love adolescents can have - sharing kisses and all - but as she got up higher in her teens she went farther than most pretty quickly. That being said, while she enjoys sex and her previous lovers weren't too shabby they're nothing compared to Travis.

* Sex with Travis makes Laura feel like her previous sexual encounters were trash - mainly because Travis is so good at making her cum. He's like an evil sex demon...

*...an evil sex demon she loves!

* Is good at blowjobs and can deep throat but only at certain intervals - it's definitely harder with Travis who is...bigger...than her previous partners.

* Laura is LOUD. She tries not to be, because it's almost embarrassing how energetic and loud she can be during sex. She doesn't want to sound like an overeager porn star, but it does seem to come across that way - again, especially with Travis.

* Laura was loud with Max and her previous lovers - with Travis she's damn near deafening.

* Loves Travis hands! Everything about them - she wants them all over her body.

* She's also a fan of his nose. It's funny, because she's pretty sure he hates it, and she's pretty sure the feeling of it against her folds is one of the greatest things she's ever felt.

* If it was up to her, she'd probably have public sex with Travis - but considering he's surprisingly shy and vanilla, she has to take her time in coaching him into that idea

* Thought she didn't like dirty talk until Travis introduced her to it. She loves the filthy things he says during sex and loves to egg him on - adding her own dirty talk to the mix.

Together:

* Enjoy the aftermath as much as the actual act. The cooling down of their bodies, the slowing of their heart rates, the snuggling...❤️

Think those are the basics. Might be more, but those are the building blocks of how I approach them. 😉

[auspex]

VtM Fangfest 2024 Prompt 9: Strength

Hello! Here is my ninth fic for Fangfest 2024 :) I am fallin' behind but still writing!!!

All my fics will be about characters that are previously established, so you might not have context for everything mentioned or hinted at within :( Feel free to reach out to ask I love explaining!

I've never really posted my writing before so be kind!

my first fic is here

my second fic is here

my third fic is here

my fourth fic is here

my fifth fic is here

my sixth fic is here

my seventh fic is here

my eighth fic is here

This fic is about Eden! Eden was a character i made for a game that unfortunately died after session one. She uses she/him pronouns (mostly she, but likes he as well) anddddd god i love her so much. He was a firefighter in life. She's a lasombra embraced into the Camarilla after they defected. He's a known corpse <3 he eats people who won't be missed <3 She has SELF ESTEEEEEM ISSUESSSS and she is super gay. Yeah.

EDIT: ALSO SHOUT OUT TO @dykeferatu AS THEIR OC PEYTON IS IN HERE FOR A BIT :D they were gonna be a player with me

I wanted this piece to be longer but wanted to post it... so maybe i'll continue this later!

Eden still liked the crunch of her boots on the snow, even if the icy feel of wind on her face wasn’t as sharp now, since she was cold too. He missed how the cold made everything come into focus, though to be fair, his senses were far stronger now than they ever had been when he was alive. That she liked. 

What she did not like was having to report to her fucking sire, Dante. 

Up the stairs to the his porch. She hated how this old wooden building looked like a stereotypical vampire mansion. She hated how she was hand delivered letters like it was the goddamn 18th century. She hated Dante, ordering her around like she was a child. 

But most of all, she hated herself for just going along with it.

It wasn’t time to think about that though. Bang on the door, yell “I’m here,” wait for his ghoul to open up. 

And there he was, the sniveling pathetic man. “Good evening, Miss Cheng.” God, could he be any more stereotypical, always insisting on ‘miss.’ 

“I’m here, so it could be better.”

His lip curled, shifting his graying mustache. “Certainly. Come in, Master Dante is ready.” 

Eden was already walking in the door. 

Dante’s haven had shockingly modern furniture for his age; probably because he was feral in the woods with the Sabbat less than a decade ago, and only recently joined society. Eden’s lips curled in distaste upon passing the foyer; he had bought more wine that he did not drink. What a joke. She made a note to ask him sometime if he even remembered what alcohol tasted like. 

Eden made a point to stomp wet snow and mud on the rug specifically on the way to his office. The door was open, and she swung it open without a second thought. 

“Sup.” 

“No knock today?” Dante gave his standard asshole grin and ran his hand through his hair as he replied. “Sit down.” 

Eden did as he was told, and said nothing. He hoped that Dante didn’t know what ‘sup’ meant and was just refusing to ask. 

Wait, oh my god. Was that another skull on his desk. 

“Is that another skull?”

“How observant, Miss Cheng. Yes, it is.” 

Eden almost spat on his desk at that; he hated being called miss. Second time tonight. However, he had previously told her not to spit in his office. She gave him a tight smile instead as he continued. 

Dante picked up the skull and looked at it, holding it just above eye level, as if he was in a goddamn theater. “This fellow is actually what I am here to talk to you about tonight. Can you feel it, Eden?” 

Eden sucked in her breath, stalling as he tried to come up with a witty reply. Failing that, she just said “no.” 

Dante’s grin never faltered. “Not surprised, you are certainly not a natural.” Bastard. “Look at this skull. Deep into its eyes. It’s a surprisingly strong fetter, even you should be able to discern this. Take it.” 

Eden took it, though she felt absolutely nothing. 

“You shall show this to Peyton, and request their sire take a look at it.”  

Peyton’s mysterious sire. Dante was always asking about her, in a roundabout way, though Eden had no idea why he was so fixated on her. “And what’s in it for you?”

“Promise them more where that came from if they teach you how to feast upon its energies. Do not show Anisha until Peyton promises you something, even if they cannot commit to fully teaching you.” 

“What.” 

“What is the confusion?” 

“You want me to ask them to teach me to feed off of energy? Huh? Isn’t our whole deal that we eat blood and only blood?”

“Eden, you sound like a fool.” 

“No, you do, what the hell dude. Vampire 101” 

“I’ve told you not to curse. It’s disrespectful. Now, do as I said”

Eden stood up abruptly, and stalked off without a word. She almost punched the ghoul when he tried to get the door for her. 

“Miss Cheng, you may want a bag for the, erm, skull.” 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” He stuffed the skull under his armpit, mostly hiding it, and headed out. 

Time to text Peyton, or whatever. It was difficult to do with one hand. 

“Hey need to talk to u got somethin”

Eden was not about to carry this thing around all night. He stalked back to the apartment complex where he had been making his haven recently. It was a good hour long walk, and the skull was already digging uncomfortably into her. 

She gritted her teeth and continued. 

~

In her current, temporary as usual, apartment, she set the skull casually on the kitchen counter. Seeing Peyton hadn’t texted back, he pulled up a stool and stared at this skull. 

It looked like a regular skull, not much notable about it. It was fairly white, so couldn’t be that old. Eden reached out and rubbed the top of it, trying to tap into well, something, but there was nothing. No energy, or whatever. At least not to her. 

Eden had only turned on one light; the room was dim and shadowy. Closing her eyes for a moment, she gathered the shadows around her - something she usually did to stalk prey in the middle of the night. 

Now, looking at her hand, or rather, trying to - it was cloaked in shadow - she lifted the skull once again, unintentionally similar to how her sire did. 

He focused in. Were the shadows darker, or just in his imagination? 

As she waited for something, anything, her phone vibrated. Eden put the skull down. 

Peyton had replied, finally. 

“Ok i’m free”

“Cool im at apartment 109 come when ya ready” 

Guess she’ll just bullshit it.