#it's just in my mind I was friends with a lot of people that weirdly all looked like characters

[xoxoemynn]

What I'm seeing from all these recent picrew tag games is that most of you don't look like your pfp and frankly that's a lot for me to wrap my mind around.

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

I know a lot of much needed change is coming my way. Although I am excited for the long awaited opportunities, I do feel heavily unsettled.

I think it’s out of heartache of what’s going to happen to a lot of people I won’t see again. They’ll forever be lost in the labyrinth of time. All I can do is move forward and hope my people stay with me.

[puppetlooselystrung]

how much avoidance tendencies is too much avoidance tendencies cause this shit is RUINING my life

[themultifanshipper]

Who knew practicing your makeup skills on Lando and Oscar would lead to this.

Vaguely based on the time I did my ex's makeup and we got unbearably horny because of it

Warnings: filth, absolute filth, smut, threesome, spit, PinV sex, PinA sex, double penetration, the inherent eroticism of doing someone's makeup, the inherent eroticism of landoscar in the same room, Landoscar being kinky little fuckers. I'd say pwp but tbh the plot is like 3 sentences.

You'd spent two years being a makeup artist on the formula 1 media team. Which was great, it payed well, you'd made some great friends, you traveled all over the place. It was a lot of people's dream job, really.

But you had to admit you were getting bored of covering zits and five o’clock shadows all the time (and hickeys but shhhhhh) and you were hoping for a bit of a change of routine.

That change came in the form of an offer to become the official f1 Academy makeup artist.

Sure it wasn't exactly Cirque du Soleil but at least you'd get to do a bit more than just pandering to male egos.

So before the end of the season, you thought you'd get a bit of practice in by doing some of your friends makeup.

The problem was the only friends you had access to while traveling were formula one drivers, or in other words, men.

So you roped your two best friends in the paddock Lando and Oscar into letting you do their makeup one afternoon, in the comfort of their motorhome bathroom, where the lighting was best, and the presence of a sink was convenient.

You grabbed a chair from the other room, which happened to be quite large, so it took up most of the space in the bathroom.

You did Oscar's eyes first, that way you could alternate between the two so they wouldn't have to stay still for too long.

You instructed Oscar to close his eyes, then you stepped closer, shaking the tube to get the liquid flowing.

Having Oscar under you, so pliant and at your mercy with his eyes closed sent a shiver up your spine and you hesitated for a second, you mind conjuring up other scenarios where you two could be in this position. Then you quickly came to your senses and eagerly applied the black liquid in a sharp wing.

The angle was a bit weird but you got through it, and when he opened his eyes to look at you, your breath caught in your throat. He was beautiful. Not in a particularly feminine way but it really fucking suited him, it made his deep brown eyes stand out. You were almost jealous.

Then it was Lando's turn. They swapped places, Lando settling on the chair while Oscar sat on the floor.

You uncapped the lid and went to start Lando's liner, but the angle was even worse due to their slight height difference.

You huffed. “Hang on I need to get closer, this is killing my wrist.” You thought for a second. “Can I sit on your lap? I promise it'll be quick”

Lando’s eyes widened a fraction but he nodded and you straddled his thighs, your legs on either side of his.

Plot twist, it was not quick. He couldn't keep still long enough and you kept having to stop to let him scratch his nose, beard, neck, etc…

You got a bit frustrated at his fidgeting so you grabbed his jaw, perhaps a bit harder than intended, and held him in place.

“Stop moving!” you ordered, and he became weirdly stock still suddenly.

In your concentration you didn't notice how close your face had gotten to his, and how his pupils dilated more and more, the closer you got.

You shifted on his lap as you tried to get the right angle to do the last part, but you must have hurt him because he gasped and scrunched his eyebrows together as his hands flew to your hips to stop you from moving.

“Shit, you ok? Did I hurt you?”

“Nope, no it's fine just…” he exhaled shakily “just don't move around too much” he gulped as he avoided eye contact. His breathing had picked up a bit and you didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable so you hurried the rest. But you had to admit, sitting on Lando's lap with his hands squeezing your hips was making you hot, and slightly dizzy.

Oscar was looking curiously at the interaction from the floor, eyes darting from your faces only a few inches apart, to where Lando’s leg was starting to twitch, to his hands on the meat of your hips, to the way your fingers were digging into his jaw to keep him still.

You managed to finish quickly, and as you got off him you noticed the mirror was starting to steam up a little bit. What you didn't see was the way Lando adjusted his pants before getting up to let Oscar have his turn.

“Holy shit, mate. It looks really good on you” Oscar was almost in awe as he got up, now slightly higher than eye level with Lando.

The two of them sort of stood there looking at each other’s eyes with an intensity you'd never seen in them before, then seemingly remembered where they were before clearing their throats and shuffling around awkwardly to switch places.

"You wanna..."

"Yeah, thanks"

You took the lipstick out of your bag, applying a bit to a brush before grabbing Oscar's jaw the same way you had Lando’s, and tilting his face upwards. His hand naturally came to rest on your waist as you sat down on him, you didn't mind. He swallowed and the movement of his adam's apple caught your eye.

“You okay?” you whispered, looking into his eyes from above.

“Yeah” he replied, the deafening silence that followed almost overwhelmed you so you quickly started swiping the brush over his bottom lip.

You took the liberty of using your thumb to wipe some excess off, and it grazed Oscar's tongue.

He gasped and you swore, about to apologise, but when you looked at his eyes you were shocked to find them closed, as Oscar opened his mouth just a fraction more, inviting.

When you didn't say anything or move for several seconds, he looked up at you through lidded eyes and you understood. He was turned on.

You didn't dare move. You glanced at his lips then back up to his eyes and he did the same.

“Oscar…” You breathed out, barely even loud enough to be considered a whisper.

In guise of a response, he pressed your hips down and rolled his upwards, and the groan he let out was almost akin to whimper. He was so hard you could feel him through all the layers.

You chanced a glance down to where Lando was sitting and the look that met yours was overwhelming. He looked like a siren, painted eyes also lidded as he looked at you and Oscar, mouth hanging half open as his hand palmed his obvious erection through his joggers.

“You two are so fucking hot” he whispered, and you looked back at the man you were currently grinding on. Oscar looked so fucked out you might have blacked out for a second, dropping the makeup brush on the counter and grabbing Oscar by the hair to pull his head back ever further, exposing his neck. You trailed kisses along his jaw before settling below his ear to bite at it lightly.

“You want to fuck me, Osc? Give this little freak a show, huh?” You ground your hips down harder and he groaned out a curse at the ceiling before sliding a hand around your neck to close the gap between you.

His lips were slippery thanks to the half-applied lipstick, but he made up for it by sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and your hips stuttered against his as you felt Lando's hands start to work at your clothes…

You weren't sure when the plan changed, but you found yourself riding Lando instead of Oscar on the chair, while Oscar guided your hips at a leisurely pace as he sloppily made out with Lando over your shoulder.

You haven't truly lived until you've witnessed that.

Suddenly Oscar had a thought and slowed your hips down to a slow grind. You were sweaty and your legs were aching so you were thankful for the break.

“Can you take us both?” Oscar asked.

You and Lando froze. You frowned at each other.

“What?”

“Do you think” he started, trailing sloppy kisses down your back, hands going lower and lower. “you can take us both?”

“As in…?” you trailed off as he got to the dip in your lower back.

“As in both of us…” his hands came down to spread your ass as he kissed the end of your tail bone. “… at the same time.” His thumb stroked over your rim and you shuddered in Lando's embrace.

“I've never done that before” but you could feel yourself getting wetter at the prospect.

“Do you want to try it?” Oscar asked, still level with where you and Lando were joined.

You didn't take much convincing, and as soon as he had your consent, Oscar surged forward and licked a stripe from where you were split open by Lando, up to where his last kiss had landed.

You moaned as he spread you open and and spat straight onto your puckered hole, watching his spit slide down your skin to Lando's cock inside you. Lando swore as you tightened around him and pulled out so that he wouldn't come too soon. You took the opportunity to arch your back, presenting yourself to Oscar as Lando stroked your hair and kissed you sweetly.

Oscar wasted no time, he dived in with expert precision, stretching you out with his tongue, then a finger, then two, dipping them in your cunt first to get them nice and wet.

Soon enough you were panting into Lando's chest and dripping over his thighs, overwhelmed by the new sensations taking over your body. When Oscar got to four fingers he pulled out and gave your ass a quick spank before dipping his cock into your wet folds once.

When his tip breached your rim, he stopped to let you adjust for a second, before continuing to slide into you slowly.

The drag of his cock inside you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and you felt like you were going to come any second, just from that.

Lando chose that moment to slide back into you, slightly less on the edge than before, but as soon as he was fully inside and nudged your g-spot you came with a shout as your body clamped down on the two cocks inside of you. The feeling so intense you swore you could see colours burst beneath your eyelids as the waves crashed over you and wetness dripped between the three of you.

Oscar groaned as he realised you were squirting, probably also for the first time.

Lando couldn't help himself, his hips moved of their own accord as he chased his high, and the stream just kept flowing as Oscar followed his lead, both men incredibly close to orgasm themselves.

The feeling of the two of them filling you up with their cum was peculiar but indescribably erotic as you came down from your high with them.

Turns out the worst part of aftercare with Lando and Oscar, was having to instruct them on how to remove their (now slightly smudged) makeup.

Your legs were too unstable to move so you barked orders at them in the bathroom until they were done. Then they came to bed and lay on either side of you, hands wandering over each others bodies as the three of you drifted into bliss

Looks like your days of covering hickeys weren't quite finished yet.

[astuteology]

🌡~My take on scorpio placements ~

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

☆ scorpio in the 7th house- usually get cheated on by their partners. Go through Toxic/ narcissistic partners at some point in their lives. 3rd party situations. Partners lying and deceiving you.

☆ scorpio mars- usually center of attention (attention grabber not seeker). Females with this placement tend to attract jealously from their so called friends or just other people in general. Men tends to sexualize them alot, Might have spread rumors about them at some point.

Men with this placement, if underdeveloped, tends to be toxic af. The need to control everyone and everything around them is just awful. Fuck around a lot. Sleeping with different different people.

If developed, good achievers. Very strategic mindset. Usually get what they want in life. Bulletproof mindset. Very good at talking to people but still maintaining boundaries. Loyal.

☆scorpio suns- idk why and how, but when people get to know that someone is a scorpio, they get weirdly attracted to them??? Like staring at them, wanting to know them. Intimidated by them.

☆scorpio sun/moons- have a good sense of humour. They can make anyone laugh. And with this, they tend to attract alot of people who wants to be in a relationship with them.

☆scorpio venus- won't say a loyal lover HOWEVER when they love love, they are loyal 100%. Underdeveloped can lie about being in love.

☆retrograde scorpio venus- feels unlovable. Extreme trust issues. Highly sensitive. Very very very high on trust. You know how they say scorpios take tests? With this placement? Tests x 100. Don't give 2nd chances. It's very very difficult for them to be vulnerable. People have rejected them alot. Might have been body shamed or criticised for looks. They feel like they don't deserve to be loved.

☆scorpio stellium in the natal chart- highly intuitive. Usually sees things beforehand. POWER. THE DARKNESS. THE EYES!!! Very beautiful people inside out. However they don't trust easily but if they do, for the love of lord, don't break it cuz you'll be coming back again and again to win them over.

☆scorpio moon- been through some serious shit. Been through hell and back with themselves. They understand people very well. However, they don't get the same understanding in return. They can see right through you so don't f with them. Hate mind games.

☆scorpio rising- very very intimidating. Females with this placement tends to attract jealousy in any form. People want to dominate you so bad. People telling them to tone it down. Basically people don't like your mindset, it triggers them cuz they can't have power over you. Hates 2 faced people. And the irony is, they usually deal with 2 faced people.

☆scorpio lilith- highly seductive. Very attractive. Sex appeal. Feelings run deep for them. Had people who wanted them only for sexual pleasures, wanted to touch them in any way. High vibration scorpio lilith is THE HEALER. also I've seen yall had some near death experiences?? Or witnessed someone dying in front of you.

☆ scorpio mercury- moves in silence. Very strategic and careful. Committed to anything they put their mind into. Always ready to be one on one while fighting. Their way of talking is very intense and mysterious which makes people wanna know how do you think like that. When they say something they really mean it. They take their time. Expects the worst. They figure things out so fast so don't even think of gaslighting them.

☆Scorpio in the 10th house- achievers. From a young age they had an insight of what they will become. Hold power in their work environment. If your a student, your classmates want to steal your notes, they feel envious that you make pretty good notes of whatever you're studying cuz yall go in depth and make pretty good observations of the topics. Authority figures.

☆scorpio in the 5th- gets extreme reactions from people. Ofcourse with any other placements, attracts jealousy. (Bruh I don't get it, what's with the scorpios dealing with alot of jealousy???? Like that's tiring) Grabs attention in parties, get togethers or any form of social gatherings. Might have dealt with people wanting to take your partners. Might have overly strict parents or very fucked up family issues.

That's it for now🫶🏻

[aballadforbarbatos]

diavolo makes a pact with you

well, you never know

once upon a time, he brought it up to lucifer and barbatos

they shot him down immediately

receiving a lecture is bad enough but imagine receiving one from BOTH lucifer and barbatos

rip

he takes it like a champ tho. he’s way better than me cause i hate getting told off

years pass

the devil’s pudding event happens. diavolo almost learns his lesson that day.

like he says he has but there’s a lot of times where that memory crosses his mind and he sits there like huh. wish that could happen again

YOU learnt the lesson though, so it’ll NEVER happen again

if he brings it up on his birthday there’s a good chance you will look at him with disdain

he’s catching up on paperwork when something crosses his mind

maybe you’d be more into it if you had a pact with him?

the lecture he got from his two closest friends though was pretty awful though

but…

what if it was in secret?

what if, and he’s just throwing out ideas here, he gave lucifer a ton of work and made barbatos go on holiday and summoned you to his castle?

hypothetically.

you know, a will-never-happen scenario.

barbatos appears at his door soon after that.

“hey, barbatos. what did you need?”

“oh… nothing. i just got a bad feeling, that’s all.”

oops

another year goes by and the idea pops into his head again, about the same time as he sees you cuddling up with mammon

Right.

diavolo’s situation and this isn’t even remotely the same, because you don’t need a pact to cuddle and mammon is your first so he’s on a separate level altogether, but he chooses to ignore these details

it’s barbatos’ birthday. he gets sent off. hearing complaints, diavolo threatens him with two weeks

lucifer weirdly gets hit with a ton of work randomly. damn that’s crazy huh. do your best!!!

and you are summoned to the castle. you also get a bad feeling.

he tries to convince you that having a pact with him is a good idea

(some people are normal about this; i am not and wouldn’t need convincing personally)

you refuse.

if you bring this up to lucifer if he asks about your visit he is so screwed

ah, but maybe he could make you his unwilling partner in crime…?

pulls a lucifer and forces it on you. suddenly you have a big fancy mark around your neck.

he’s pretty proud of it. you cover your face with your hands and go oh my god.

it feels like it could be exasperation but he would really prefer for it to not be that

lucifer asks what diavolo wanted you for and you weakly say it was for new clothes. new clothes that conveniently hide your collarbone

all of this is unraveled when someone (mammon) walks in on you getting dressed and screams bloody murder about the weird MARK on your neck

pacts are permanent and so is diavolo getting lectured

[binomech]

I mean it when I say that Kim and Harry's relationship is only possible at the point in time where they meet, as the people they are during the Hanged Man case. I love playing with AUs but the same way even a Harry with amnesia is inevitably a product of his past, so is Kim. this is a VERY long post so i'm putting it under a cut.

facts about Harry:

Harry tried to kill himself three times in one night and he failed to kill his body

The Harry you meet does not remember this, consciously, and yet sometimes the only thing he thinks will solve a situation is killing himself

Harry doesn't remember his mother, but he remembers being very loved by her

Harry is the only person left from his childhood friend group, and he forgot them

Harry learns about his life through a case ledger and a bitter coworker and a town full of people he traumatized before he tried to kill himself

The ledger says: You were brilliant and bright and you solved every mystery. You once beat a man until he could never walk again with this very clipboard because he reminded you of yourself. Out of all the policing specialties, you picked building safety regulation because it wasn't violent, and once you spotted a crumbling building and reported it but it fell before anyone in the force could give a shit and a bunch of families died. Your partner that you forgot, who you only have experienced as vitriolic and judgemental, once campaigned to keep a street mural because he knew it was a sign of hope for you and you liked it.

Your body remembers what your mind cannot: The smell of apricots and loss. Being raped. Prepping for anal with another man. Being a gym teacher, a loving mentor and then giving it up for the apricot smell. A sick liver. A sad brain. A locked jaw and chronic pain because the polio epidemic took everyone but not you. Survivor's guilt. The need to dance.

he thing about harry's memory loss is that it's that his life becomes a crime scene to investigate. and he's very good at that. he's been told it's the only thing he's good at. and his body remembers that that momentum is the thing keeping him alive. and yet everything he finds is marred with mistakes, violence and lots and lots of love that make the mistakes and violence even more damning. and he can't stop looking with morbid curiosity because it doesn't even feel like his life, but he's living the consequences of it. and sometimes he does things, he feels things, and he understands that he's not someone else and then he wants to die.

Why are you an amnesiac? Is it because the pale took you while you sank in the water next to a church where baby pale is growing? Is it what the decades of substance abuse did to your brain tissue? Is this you, protecting you from yourself, just so you can live for a few weeks more?

Why are you a detective? You remember being a happy teacher, a good teacher, you were an art student teaching gym. why did you change careers? Is the insatiable curiosity that your body remembers something that was eating you alive? Is it why you're still alive at all, to find out? Did you think you could do more with a gun in your hand and some speed in your system? Did she think that?

And then there's Kim. One of Kim's lines that is among my favorites, and weirdly honest for what we get from him usually when he's talking to people that aren't Harry is:

"My position, ma'am? My parents got ripped to shreds in the Revolution -- I would have gone the same way. I was saved by being two years old. That's my position -- the abattoir."

Harry's life is defined by a violence that he cannot remember, Kim's life is defined by a violence he cannot forget.

And that, I think, is important to their dynamic. Kim's life is defined by the degradation he has suffered, by the Moralintern as the child of revolutionaries, by his peers at every point in his life due to his racial heritage and his sexuality, by his disability. His fear isn't even fear, it's a certainty -- he's waiting for the other shoe to drop and go the same way his parents went, in front of a firing squad for daring to want something better. So he bargains, and he tries to delay what he knows is coming by not only not stepping out of line but giving the line a wide berth that could be a fucking moat filled with krakens.

He grows up Dolorian breathing the ideology of the institution that had his parents executed 24/7. He believes so deeply that he is as important as everyone else for the world to keep going, a blue forget me not, a piece of the sky. But of course he knows enough about his parents so he cosplays as a revolutionary and joins the RCM as the shitty replacement of the Commune's guerrilla.

He spends 15 years in a position usually given to recently enlisted officers because they do not believe him to be good enough. He finally promotes by going undercover as a teenager and infiltrating a fucking arcade because asians look so young and asians are so good at tech. The first partner he gets as a detective is nicknamed Eyes because he was assigned to him because his eyesight and sharpshooting could not be trusted. He doesn't see a shooter approaching and Eyes takes a bullet for him and he's the one to deliver the news to his family.

He doesn't even believe in Moralism, strictly, because he's too old and not innocent enough but the sunk cost of spending his entire life carving his tombstone as an RCM lieutenant is simply too much to give up. He rations his cigarettes to remind himself no matter how much he wants, wanting will destroy you from the inside out.

And then, he gets sent to Martinaise both because he is undeniably good at his job (he's shown them, he can shoot, he can fine, he can send people to jail facilities without breaking a sweat, he can lord over his authority to any civilian as much as any other straight white cop in the precinct) but also with the expectation that he will Fail and they'll finally have a reason to demote him. And he goes there and waits for two days for Harry to show up and when he does, he's drunk, doesn't know the basics of the world (the basics he cannot forget for one second or they will kill him, too) and is still capable of wonder.

And Kim is so fucking jealous. He's like "what the fuck, I have to do so much and this guy gets a pass?". Not because you are actually doing anything wrong, most of the questions are standard for Harry at any point in the game, but you get to forget everything and keep your job. You get to have drugs and keep your standing. You get to be violent and brilliant and no one doubts you for a second. He gets away with wearing heels and blatantly faggy old fashioned clothes. He gets to cry and show the worst parts of himself. He gets to protect you without losing anything.

Harry is everything Kim can't be, because he is a white cop.

But that's not what changes things, in the end. It's that this guy who literally is everything a good detective is and also everything awful a detective is, takes one look at you and sees you on the other side of the moat and he doesn't even build a bridge: He plunges headfirst into the moat and makes friends with the krakens and comes out soaked and dying on the other side and he smiles and asks for your opinion, Kim, you always know what to say

He doesn't know you and he's the first person that doesn't assume the worst. And you know he's putting you on a pedestal, and that you need to make sure he understands that's not good for him, but it does feel a little good to have all the things you do be acknowledged without friction.

And he makes stupid jokes and when you joke back he laughs and doesn't think less of you. And he likes art, which you will never let yourself understand, and he likes children because he doesn't have a history of 15 years trying to get kids to have a better life and them dying by the dozens, and he's everything you hate because he's everything you wish you could be.

And then he finds a miracle, and he tells the miracle about you, and you take a picture and it's not a dream. You thought, it must be the amnesia, he will remember and life will go on with the realities that you know to be true. But the picture is still there: Tangible proof that not everything you think immutable is a sure fact of reality.

Unbeknownst to you, in one of these universes he spares you from a nuclear bomb that he launches himself. If you get shot, he will hear you on the radio when he needs you the most. You are not the only one that has been changed from this.

Pre-amnesia Harry and Kim could have never found this tentative kindness because Harry was bogged down by all the things he had done and Kim was buried in things he couldn't do. But whatever happened to Harry, it opened a door in a huge web of universes, just by saying "It doesn't have to be like this". No matter where they go from the ending of the game, that is a thing you cannot un-know.

[project-sonadow]

My [15M] rival [15/50M] has been weirdly aggressive towards me ever since he lost his memories for the second(?) time. Should I be worried about him trying to kill me again?

Summary

A post on r/relationship_advice by u/Chili_Dog1991

EDIT 1: Stop saying I'm Sonic I'm not.

EDIT 2: Okay I am Sonic. I don't see how that matters.

EDIT 3: Stop trying to figure out which of my rivals this is.

EDIT 4: Stop telling me to contact the police about his attempts to murder me or his age. It's complicated in regards to his age but he's essentially 15 and I can already defend myself way better than the police can in regards to his murder attempts. Also the police would probably try to arrest me too because they're either useless or make things actively worse.

EDIT 5: Stop DMing me to ask how murder attempts can be fun. I shouldn't have to explain this.

EDIT 6: Stop implying I'm a masochist.

EDIT 7: Stop implying I'm an adrenaline junkie. If I just wanted adrenaline I've got tons of other people who could give me that.

EDIT 8: To everyone who actually responded with advice, thank you. I attempted to talk to him about it, we fought again, and it turns out he's been acting aggressive because he doesn't know how to show affection so he just defaults to violence. We ended up holding hands after we physically couldn't fight anymore. It was a great night and I think we're together now.

EDIT 9: Which of you motherfuckers sent this to Tails.

ORIGINAL POST

Hi everyone, using a throwaway account to make this post because my little brother knows my main and the embarrassment would kill me if he ever saw this. 

So for context, I've known this guy for a while now, at least in the context of my life. I've got a pretty hectic life and I'm a traveler, so I've met a lot of people and he's one of the few that's been able to keep up with me. Our first meeting was during a bit of a stressful time because he kind of inadvertently framed me for thievery (we look kinda alike and the police are stupid, it's not his fault but I was pretty pissed at the time) and got me arrested, so we ended up fighting about it in the middle of the street. I'm used to fighting and pretty good at it, so it was a surprise when he turned out to be basically my equal at it, which is pretty rare even among my other rivals. He got the upper hand on me for long enough that the police were able to arrest me again. I was pretty mad but also impressed. Our second meeting was even more stressful because I had just got out of jail after being arrested for the second time, and I was still angry about it so we fought again. I was about to win but then it turned out we were both in danger along with some friends of mine so we both left as fast as we could. Both of these times I could tell he was taking the fight seriously, but I could also tell he wasn't trying to KILL ME kill me. Y'know?

Anyway, in our next meeting he was definitely trying to kill me. Outright said it to my face. I won that fight thankfully, and I'm not even angry about it because a lot of people have tried to kill me over the years and also he has some kind of goal I was getting in the way of, and he didn't even succeed. He ended up changing his mind about that goal though, and when we next saw each other we were on the same side trying to deal with a mutual threat. 

And it was at that point I kind of realized I was in love. I've never really wanted a relationship because I thought it would get in the way of my lifestyle, but with this guy specifically it wouldn't be a problem. I would have told him about it, but then I thought he died and I didn't see him for a while. I wasn't too broken up about it because we only knew each other for a couple days, but I was still sadder than I thought I would have been.

He ended up coming back to life though, and he had lost his memories for the second time in his life (long story I'm not gonna get into) and he didn't really remember me anymore. I know from a mutual friend of ours that he remembered me well enough to be annoyed by my name, which made me irrationally happy, and I think he did end up getting his memories back, but when we first saw each other he definitely didn't know who I was. We fought again, it was a tie, and then we ended up teaming up to take down a mutual enemy again. 

Things have been a bit less chaotic since then. We've fought a couple more times but nothing serious, he's saved my life, I've saved his, you know how it goes. We haven't really talked about anything that happened, but that's fine because neither of us have ever been much for verbal communication and we understand each other just fine. I've tried getting over my crush on him, but that's never really worked because we see each other a lot due to our lifestyles and we have some mutual friends in common, and I like spending time with him anyways, even if we're just beating each other up most of the time.

Personality wise, he's basically my polar opposite, but we get on pretty well despite that. I think aside from my general attraction to danger and his ability to match me in a fight and a race that might be the main thing that draws me to him. I've got a lot of friends, but never one so different from me and yet so similar. He's just always been special to me.

But the main reason I'm making this post is because despite all we've been through, he still acts like we're enemies at worst and temporary allies at best. We fight almost every time we meet unless something less serious is going on, and he's pretty grumpy and mean to me all the time. I like this about him, but it does make me question if he even sees me as anything more than a rival, and I don't know how to ask him because we don't talk about weird emotional stuff. I also think that asking him directly could maybe lead to another murder attempt, which would be fun, but it's not what I'm looking for anymore. I don't mind all the fighting, but just once I'd like to kiss him on the mouth instead of punching his teeth in, y'know?

[petday]

your art is so so so so inspiring to me which is strange bc my style isnt very similar to yours at all. but it makes me happy to see your art, especially when you make art from things from childhood id forgotten about💫💫💫💫💫🩷🩷🩷🩷

Thanks. Your message and similar messages from others over the years inspired me to try to put into words why I draw 'nostalgic things'. I ended up writing a lot.

There was a period of time when I became cynical about being seen as an 'artist who reminds people of childhood' or a 'nostalgic artist'. I no longer feel that way but I will explain why. Some artists, who I like and respect, will sometimes mention 'nostalgia holding artist's growth back' and 'nostalgia causes learned helplessness.' But I feel differently.

Maybe I perceive time differently. I have lived long enough to witness cycles of 'what is valued, and what is not valued' repeated. For example, I loved what is now called 'Y2K' style, but during mid 2000s, for whatever reason it was derided as something to be left in the past, something embarrassing. "Aren't we glad we optimized things now, and they are 'sleeker' and less complex? Old things were childish, an embarrassing weakness for humans, we must advance and reach our ideal evolution." That became the common attitude. I felt pressure to have the same thoughts. I just couldn't make myself feel that way no matter what, though. Even with the increasing threats about, 'keep up with others or you won't ever develop positive social relationships!' I couldn't change my mind.

(If what is currently valued becomes devalued and then it becomes valuable after that… that's an odd cycle to me. For example, if we like bananas, even when bananas cannot be harvested, we still like them even though they occupy a smaller space in our minds but we don't deride them. Going even further, though, I sometimes wonder if it is possible for humans to eventually remove the 'devaluation' stage, particularly in art 'trends' as I am an artist. Whatever is considered valuable remains valuable. A counter arguement would be, 'no, the devaluation of the previous thing is exactly what causes the next thing to be valued, and then the cycle flows beautifully: X was valued -> Y is valued, X is devalued -> Y is devalued, X becomes valuable again. If you want X to always remain valuable, just develop better patience. Like we cannot pick fruit we like all year, we cannot simply keep adding onto the pile of things we like, something has to be seen as inferior by the majority of humans.' I disagree. I might explain my thoughts against this argument more in the future.)

Anyway, what people call 'Y2K style' or 'art that emulates how things commonly appeared in early years of 2000s' is popular nowadays. Even someone who did not grow up with it can become attracted to it. That 'desire' itself is a communication between past and present. Something can make someone feel 'lighter' [in sense of, "wow, the crushing weight of my circumstance feels not so crushing when I look at this'] -- a similar 'light' to how someone in the past was perceiving it when it was the present and not the past. So, even though two people were born in different eras and may not become friends or even meet, they're still connected by that 'lighthearted' feeling they both like. I know it will be seen as 'lower value' soon, but I truly cannot care because as I mentioned earlier, I might perceive 'time' weirdly.

When I started playing video games, a family member would point out, 'those games were made before you were born, interesting!' but that statement confused me at the time since my perception was, 'well, if these games are from before I was born, I don't understand why she is bringing attention to it. Why is it interesting? It's just regular. They're alive in the present now, because I'm in the present and so are they.' That was when I was a very young child. I subconsciously kept the same feeling even as I was reaching teenage and adult years. The feeling echoed when people liked to ask the question 'why are you still playing games from long ago?' as I got older but still played the same 'old' games. The answer: they are beautiful and will remain beautiful, and something made in the past is still communicating in the present, so are they really truly 'outdated inferior games'...? Just because the cycle of valued and devalued happened to be in a different position and those old things were seen as an embarrassment? (Now there are popular games inspired by the era of games many people ridiculed me for consistently enjoying, lol. Similarly, I was using 'crappy' old versions of programs even through 2017. Now people from wealthy upbringing and background use 'crappy' programs willingly. lol)

The present talks to the past all the time, nostalgia is not a dead end. In that sense I cannot see nostalgia as a death trap but rather a connection made from past to present. A string between the past and present that feelings can crawl across and communicate. Feelings such as 'I wish my life took a different direction. I can't make things like how they were back then, it won't ever be the same again, so I'll do nothing.' The criticism of 'nostalgia' is towards that last sentence. But there are things you can do with those feelings. 'Doing nothing is boring. And I keep thinking of that fun drawing I saw... I kinda wanna try to make something.' Making something while thinking of the past and present at the same time, so there is a communication between past self and present self. Pure bitterness communicating with slightly light-hearted view, the 'end result' is artwork/creation.

*I used light-hearted feeling as example, but nostalgia can exist for any feeling, and not just for people who were nice when they were younger. If someone was cruel as a child/teenager, after the person has been an adult for a while, they can communicate with their younger self about what was it about the cruelty that was enjoyable, and then extract a small part from the cruelty that they wish to bring back into the present -- example, the attraction to 'high speed activities, playful mischievousness' can be extracted from 'hurting people on purpose so they will acknowledge/react to you'. The dialogue could be something like, "'honestly, you and I both know spamming people with bad things felt pretty fun at the time, so let's just keep the 'high energy mischievousness' feeling and leave behind the crap that hurt people deeply, and let's make an animation while thinking of that high energy feeling.

^ I don't answer questions or reply to messages often because of giving answers that aren't too long or too short is tough for me. lol. Thanks for liking my art. I like a lot of art that doesn't resemble mine as well. It's fun! Like appreciating different flavours in the same meal even if you cannot make the meal yourself.

[masivechaos]

laugh by his side!

── ☆ remus lupin x fem! reader

── ☆ Request: yes / no

── ☆ Synopsis: Remus always had a crush on you and now that he finally gathers the courage to speak to you, he finds out you're deaf and don't talk. not that he minds, for you, he's ready to learn.

── ☆ Warning/content: reader is deaf, reads lips and uses sign language, i do not know anyone deaf personally so i hope my descripition is accurate, reader is insecure about their laugh (as i have heard from some deaf people on social media), she gets a comment from dumb meanies, my English

── ☆ a.n.: 1.8k words-

masterlist/ marauders masterlist / navigation / taglist 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

At Hogwarts, everybody knew everybody. You always saw people whisper a name, shush about someone’s embarrassing moment. So even when you didn't have a lot of friends and liked it better to be alone, people knew you from afar.

Not that they knew anything more than your house and name.

But Remus wanted to know more than that. He wanted to know what you liked and what was going on in this head of yours when you were reading at the library.

The first time he saw you he was barely twelve. You were sitting alone at the great hall, ignoring the guys talking next to you. He took in your features, even at that time he thought you were pretty.

But you were shy, and so was he. Therefore, it’s only at the beginning of year 7 that he finally decided to speak to you. Now or never, it was his last year.

“Um, hi, Y/n, right?” he said with an awkward hand wave as he rested his shoulder against the bookshelf. 

You didn’t really expect him to be there so you stared at him with wide eyes for a second too long before nodding your head. You could already feel your face turn warm under his tall gaze.

Remus scratched the back of his head “I, uh… What are you reading?” he asked as he nodded towards the book in your hands. He found you oddly silent but tried to ignore it, everything was going well, no need to get worried, maybe she’s just really shy. 

You showed him the cover, trying to ignore how moist your hands had turned ever since he spoke.

“The picture of Dorian Gray?” he said with a raised eyebrow “you like classics?” You nodded again. “What do you like about them?”

That was the embarrassing moment you feared, the one where you couldn’t answer with a yes or no and had to awkwardly make him understand you only spoke in sign language.

You shrugged.

Remus tried to keep his composure. This was going awfully bad for him “Um… if I’m bothering you… you can say it”

You shook your head. No way he was leaving now.

“Then what is it?”

You took a deep breath and held up a finger to make him wait. You dug in your bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen. With a slightly shaky hand, you wrote down ‘I can’t speak’

“Oh,” Remus said as he read “Why is that?”

“Deaf since birth” you wrote down.

He frowned slightly, “But you can hear me…?”

You grabbed your pen “I read lips” Weirdly, the Wizarding World didn’t have solutions for these kinds of things compared to muggles. So since you were a kid you train yourself to read lips.

“Oh… got it.”

A moment of silence passed before he broke it “Can I ask a question?”

You nodded, happy that he was still willing to talk.

“If you’re only deaf, why can’t you talk? I mean… no offense I’m just curious.”

“I can make sounds but I don’t know how to talk because I never heard. I prefer sign language.”

He waited and read. His lips tugged into a smile “Sign language… I see”

You grabbed your pen again “I don’t try to talk because it makes me feel stupid in front of people I don’t know. Laughing too”

Remus frowned “You don’t allow yourself to laugh? Don’t you think it’s a little harsh on yourself?”

“People think my laugh is weird because I can’t control how loud it is”

“I’m sorry that sucks,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “But you know if someday you want-” Remus was cut by the sound of Sirius’ voice.

“C’mon, mate. Don’t wanna be late to James’ game,” he said as he dragged him away from you.

Remus waved his hand and mouthed ‘see you’ as he left the library without his will.

You were left alone with your book and burning cheeks. It felt so warm to know that even if you were deaf, he was willing to know you more. You didn’t have many friends and of course the few you had knew at least some signs. But you never really dare talking to new people, you always thought you’d be too boring. But apparently, it didn’t bother Remus at all.

-

Around a week later, you went into the library after class as always but every table seemed to be full. Your eyes darted the room, you didn’t want to sit next to someone you didn’t know and as you turned around to leave, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jolted by surprise. 

You spun around and saw Remus “Sorry,” you read on his lips “Forgot you couldn’t hear me from afar”

You smiled to let him know you weren’t mad.

“There’s a free seat next to me if you want”

You sat by his side and saw him pull out a paper and write “Is reading lips more tiring than reading what I write?”

Your smile only widened, no way he was asking this. You only spoke one time and didn’t expect him to be so considerate already. “Yes”

“Got it,” he wrote.

You both worked on your own in silence, Remus was occasionally glancing at you. You were so focused on your work, your tongue poking out the corner of your lips, he thought you were so cute.

He took a deep breath and went back to his work. Little did he know that you were struggling just as much to not stare at him. Your knee brushing his, your elbow touching his, it was all too much. You felt the warmth creeping up your neck and ears and cheeks.

As you kept staring down at your textbook, you saw Remus’ hand sliding a sheet under your eyes “Want to take a break?” he had written.

It had been less than an hour but you wouldn’t say no to more time with him so you looked up and nodded.

Once out of the library, he led you to the Black Lake. He sat down against a tree and made sure you could see his face as he said “Better here, no?”

You looked at his soft smile as he spoke and nodded. Your lips were tugged into a smile, too. There was just something about him. You couldn’t help it.

“Here we don’t have tons of loud students” he said before realizing “not like it matters to you” he chuckled awkwardly, realizing his mistake.

You laughed. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to laugh in front of someone other than your four friends. You knew you probably sounded a little weird but you didn’t care because you saw his smile widening.

“I like that,” he said.

You shook your head with a smile, “No,” you managed to stay, still laughing. It felt good to finally allow yourself to be free.

“What ‘no’?” he smiled, “It’s adorable, keep laughing.”

Your heart melted, you spent so much time hiding it and there, Remus was allowing you to be yourself. And it felt so good to finally let your guard down.

-

As the weeks passed by, you spent more and more time together, using study sessions as an excuse to be with each other.

You kept every single sheet he used to talk to you, reading the conversations over and over again when you had some time alone. It was easy to say you were whipped.

But the good thing was, Remus was too.

“Come on,” James grinned “You have to tell her!”

Remus sighed “I’ll look dumb if she doesn’t feel the same. I’ve looked at her from afar for years now but to her it’ll be so sudden”

Sirius scoffed “Bullshit. That’s just an excuse you found.”

“Yeah listen to them,” Peter chimed.

“Weren’t you supposed to be my ally in this?” Remus frowned.

Peter shook his head with a laugh “Nope”

Remus sighed and laid back on his bed “I’m so… down bad”

“That you are,” James grinned “That’s why you have to tell her”

“Yeah, I know…” he whispered “You know what?” he said as he sat up “I’m gonna tell her. This is our last year, I’ll regret this if I don’t’

“That’s what we like to hear!!!” Sirius shouted as he clapped hands with James.

-

Remus ran to your usual meeting spot next to the lake. He was ready, he was gonna confess. All these weeks he spent by your side, it felt so good. He needed more.

He could finally see the tree and… he frowned. You weren’t alone, three students with green collars were by your side. You didn’t seem well. He rushed to you “Everything’s alright?” he asked as he immediately pulled you close to him.

One of the students snickered “Like she can answer you,” he laughed.

Remus’ frown deepened “Excuse me?”

“Your girlfriend’s mute.”

“No she’s not.”

“Oh,” another Slytherin chimed in “and why won’t she speak then?”

Remus felt anger boil in the pit of his stomach “Because you don’t deserve to hear her. Piss off now.”

The three didn’t bulge “I said piss off!” he said louder until the group left. He turned around and tightened his arms around you, making you understand you were safe now. You were curled up by his side, you didn’t know what he said to make them leave but you had felt their footsteps running away from you.

Remus tilted your chin to make you look at him “You’re alright?”

You nodded

“I’m sorry they bugged you” he whispered.

You smiled to say ‘it’s fine’

“No it’s not,” he said, already knowing you too well. “It’s not fine.”

You looked down and felt his embrace tighten. You stayed like this for a while, with his arm around your back and your head in his neck. It felt good. You could feel your heartbeat calming down.

Remus pulled away. You sat down against your usual tree. “I came here to say something– well… let you know something”

You looked up at him, intrigued, and tilted my head.

Remus took a deep breath and started moving his hands and fingers, trying to remember the signs he learned. It was time. He focused and signed “Will-you-go-out-with-me-?”

Your eyes widened and you nodded. Your heart was a puddle, you couldn’t believe he had put so many thoughts into this. You nodded again and hugged him as tight as you could. You felt the warmth in your body, creeping from your toes to the top of your head.

Just as always, Remus stayed there, knowing exactly what you needed and giving it to you without hesitation.

It probably didn’t mean a lot to him to learn a sentence in sign language, but to you, it meant so much. Just like when you allowed yourself to laugh by his side, with him, you could be free, you could be yourself.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ remus lupin taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cauliflowertree @madison-rebel @moonlitmeeks  @rhydianissuperior @loveeharrington @mad-elia @jackys-stuff-blog @elenatries2write @princess-paramour @juneberrie @f4iry-blush @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @sparklenarniawizard @songs4themoon @moondemon123 @mystic-writings @siriusblackstwin @natashxromanovf @violetteshoneybee @unadulterated-syd @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @garfieldsladybird @kidcuisinesvcks @percy-the-hufflepuff @fairydxll @spookydarkwitch @innerloverpainter @vancitycharlie @nyxxxxxxxx @venussflytraps @diorgirl444 @oncasette @locke-writes @dori-and-gray @itsarajr @maddipoof @starconfettii @widowbf @starlit-epiphany @rosalyn-s @etanordiesbullshit @sageskisses444 @luvmarsbars @jsjcue @mellozhi @lovings4turn

[nataliasquote]

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

[anzulvr]

Thank you for follow back! >.> meant a lot to me. Is it okay if I request a Karma x reader where the reader is very sweet & affectionate towards Karma & it makes him shy. No pressure. Just wanted to say hi & thank you! ^_^

♡ ୨୧ Karma with affectionate Reader ୨୧ ♡

ʚɞ fluff; no warnings || Karma Akabane ♥︎ note : HIII HII SORRY THIS IS LIKE CENTURIES LATE SHEA… guys pls tell me if you see typos I checked but I get sick of reading my own things again and again… 😭|| ʚɞ

— Karma is inexperienced when it comes to relationships therefore when you’re affectionate and sweet to him he doesn’t know how to act!!

His face canonically gets super red when he’s embarrassed though it’s not an often thing because he can usually shake things off with a joke! When it does happen it’s finally your chance to get back at him for all the times he’s purposely taken weird photos of you.

He’d be shy with PDA (when he’s not trying to embarrass you, since he’s also the type to mortify you by calling you the stupidest pet names in front of your friends and family.)

If you react strongly it's worse because he loves getting you mad and rilled up it's like his love language. Some people like giving gifts or giving words of affirmation to their s/o while he likes pissing you off.

If you randomly hold his hand or rest your hand on his shoulder he won’t know what to do. He plays with your hand instead of staying still as a way to distract himself from how giddy he’s feeling.

Half the time “playing with your hand” means him trying to jokingly get you to slap your own face with your hand, the other half of the time when he feels like being nice and cute he’s just lightly squeezing it.

Very “opposites attract” troupe.

Even when you were just friends you were very attentive which isn’t something he’s familiar with. For the first time ever there’s someone taking care of him? Asking about his day and doing anything to make him feel better when it’s a bad one? He’d find it hard to believe you’re doing so much for him without wanting anything in return.

When he starts getting more comfortable in the relationship he inches towards being sweeter and more open with you.

E-class finds it hard to believe when they first see it, cause it’s Karma out of all people?? Karma being affectionate??

Don’t get me started on Asano’s reaction to this, he from the bottom of his heart, thinks you’re being held hostage.

Most of Karmas “affection” is just making fun of people so when they see him being weirdly nice to you it’s creepy to them. Constant compliments and praise coming out of his mouth is something they didn’t think they’d live to see.

He can’t be serious for long periods of time and always finds a way to “ruin the moment”. For example you’ll hug him and Karma will hug back… for three seconds before he lifts you off the ground and spins you till too dizzy to walk. (He finds it funny to see you struggling.)

Ms.Vitch is tired of you both because you refuse to work with anyone else she sets you up with (since her class centers around assassination with seduction). Sure, the phrases she makes you all say are awkward no matter who you’re saying it to but you can’t bring yourself to work with your other classmates for that class! If you do work with someone else he’s so shady about it afterwards.

“Karma do you mind getting my bag for me?"

“Maybe ask Maehara since he’s so strong.”

“You know I only said that for the class!!"

Karasuma is also sick of you two getting side tracked, instead of sparring you two sword fight, instead of running a mile you somehow convince Karma to carry you on his back while he does all the running?! (he’s a show off.) Instead of doing pushups you sit on Karmas back as he does them. It gets to the point he makes you work on opposite sides of the field but you somehow end up getting together anyway within minutes. He’s starting to give up.

On the brighter side you’re together in all of Korosensei’s classes because he can’t bring himself to separate you two! He did once and you were so miserable he gave in. Even if Karma does give you the answers in exchange for a kiss (it’s really that easy.) Korosensei thought you might’ve died from heartbreak if he kept you apart longer.

It’s pretty hard to make him shy since he’s constantly being praised to the point his ego is up there. It happens in more quiet, private moments. Like if you’re at his house watching a movie and you’re moving closer together all of a sudden he’s looking at the roof and not the screen. He can’t let you see his face is beet red.

Another example is him seeing you in a pretty outfit and not being able to act right cause he’s flustered.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re just, you’re- you you’re I like.”

“Come again?”

[neuroticboyfriend]

A lot of the time when professionals interact with psychotic people, they try to reduce our distress by getting us to stop believing things. For me, that only made things worse. It was confusing and distressing. I felt angry, scared, and misunderstood. The best way I've found to cope with delusional thinking is something I discovered on my own. I'll give an example here so, huge TW for unreality and paranoia.

Scroll away if you're not able to hear delusional thinking.

Yesterday I started freaking out thinking people could hear my thoughts. This is something I've occasionally experienced since I was a child. When this comes up, I always think there's some massive conspiracy, where everyone can hear my thoughts but they react to me as if they don't hear anything. And they're all in on it. This time, it was triggered by intrusive thoughts that I started judging myself for.

As you can imagine, this is distressing. I started talking to people through my mind, which only made it worse. I couldn't focus on what was happening around me. What I did to reduce that distress is.. weirdly nonchalant. I just sat there and thought "Well, if this is true, it's not like they're going to change how they interact with me. Everything is the same as it was. Nothing I can do about it, might as well just keep on keeping on."

That calmed me down enough to start focusing on what I was doing, and eventually completely forget about it until now. Whenever I try to treat my delusional thinking as something I have to stop immediately... it literally only makes my mind double down. But if I work within what I believe - what I "know" - I can find another way to look at it that isn't so scary.

This works with my hallucinations, too. I sometimes see shadow people; they're more like jump scares than anything. They startle me, and I start to wonder if people I'm looking at are real. But that latter part only really happens if I get fearful of them. To avoid that fear, I try to think of the shadow people as just friends watching over me, checking in. They don't do anything, after all. They just pop up, stand there, and disappear.

(Talk of unreality ends here)

So, yeah. This doesn't work for everyone, and it doesn't always work for me depending on what I'm experiencing/how I'm feeling. But without this, I'd be far worse off; it doesn't take too many missteps for me to spiral. I guess my point is, my reality doesn't have to be "normal" for me to be healthy as a schizophrenic person. It just has to be something I can live with, as happily and safely as possible.

And that's ok. Neurodivergent people are allowed to exist, and some people are helped best by finding ways for them to exist as they are without so much distress - rather than trying to eliminate troubling symptoms entirely.

[byuno-o]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS I'VE OBSERVED (mostly about moon placements)

NOTE: PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS. HENCE, MIGHT NOT BE APPLICABLE FOR EVERYONE. ONLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT. HENCE, DISCRETION IS ADVISED. DO PROVIDE FEEDBACKS, I LOVE IT. :)

I have seen people with strong emotional responses having strong mars and debilitated moon placements. For example, one having strong Mars placements or degrees, in Mars ruled houses such as Scorpio mars and Aquarius moon might end up expressing their anger in a scathing way, you know: the kind of people who just know what to say to hurt you, or pull tricks which might be fatal for everyone surrounding them?

As much as I love my fellow Pisces, I just need to put this out: you need to put into the work in order to actually manifest what you want. You cannot just sit and wish for good things to come to you while you don't work on yourself.

Also, my friends with Pisces moons have a tendency to avoid the problems plaguing them, but they seem to become the biggest helpers when it comes to solving other people's problems. I often wonder if I should laugh for having such cool friends in times or need or cry for having friends who could careless for their own problems which in turn become the reason for their sufferings.

4) My Mom is have Taurus mars, and boy when they tell you that people with Taurus mars are the most chillest people you'll ever meet until you cross them the wrong way.

5) My father and I share the same moon sign, and I think he's the evolved version of Leo moon. I have this theory that a person's emotional evolvement is often related to their moon sign's sister sign. For example, my father has a Leo moon, but he rationalizes his emotions like an Aquarius moon would, keep things bottled up, and when he really has to speak, he'd speak about his emotions in a practical way--and often talk about the root causes as if he's delivering a motivational speech on self improvement.

6) on the other hand, my brother (youngest one) has Aquarius moon, and he is very dramatic, takes every word as a jab and has a very regal aura to him. Another example would be my two guy friends who have capricorn moon and cancer moon, and weirdly enough, the capricorn one is more emotionally charged than the cancer one, who is very mature when it comes to handing his emotions. The capricorn one is very sneaky, and is very petty to the ones who hurt him (I find it funny most of the time that he act like he is unfazed only to go to his social media and post shit about the person) It gives 'very mindful. But the cancer one is very nurturing, very motherly and respectful--even to the ones who disagree to him (he often debates a lot and often end up in verbal brawls) Although he can be scathing too.

7) Also, regarding the moon signs, I can see the changes forming within me these days. My solar return for this year has aquarius moon in my fourth house, and I have mellowed down, and feel very emotionally connected to my mother specially.

8) People with harsh aspects between their moon signs and saturn constantly fights against their own emotions, it's often like the fight between their mind and their heart. Hence they might try to be practical, but often end up expressing themselves in an opposite way.

9) I often imagine people with Libra moon with having a heart of gold, the 'very demure, very mindful' types. If they were to have their dark sides, I would think manipulations, and twisting words would be it. Do lemme know your thoughts on this.

10) With all my friends studying with me: we're in a creative field, I have noticed a pattern, their art preferences, and their dislikes regarding some aspects of art, are closely related to their moon signs. I have seen the ones having Sag moons gravitate towards creating pieces with many greens and purples, you know? Ecobrutalism but with a dash of futurism too? The most original ones in my opinions are the ones with pisces, leo and scorpio moons. my friends with those moon signs happened to always bring something new to the table. The most consistent ones with a very definitive art style are IMO, capricorn moon and cancer moon and aquarius moon. They'll make it happen, however.

THAT'S IT FOR TODAY. I HAVE BEEN AWAY FOR TOO LONG THAT THE OBSERVATIONS I HAD MADE (MOST OF 'EM) HAVE BEEN LOST. I NEED TO KEEP A NOTEBOOK OR SOMETHING. HEHEHEHE. DO LET ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS, AND YEAH, I WHOLEHEARTEDLY WANT TO HAVE DISCUSSIONS COS BOY I NEED TO IMPROVE.

[gn4bnahc]

Do I have a chance? | Part 2

Pairing: Popular guy!Bangchan x Quiet girl!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends to lovers

Part 1

Masterlist

THIS IS JUST FICTION!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was lunch time, you were sitting with Changbin, both of you see Chan getting lunch, “What’s up with you and Chan? You guys have been hanging out a lot lately and he mostly talks about you whenever we are together”, Changbin says while raising his eyebrow, “We’re just friends what do you mean?”, you say trying to avoid eye contact with him, “Really hm? I see him smiling often while he’s on his phone and when I look at who he’s texting, it’s you…”, Changbin says looking at you suspiciously, “Well I guess Im a really funny person”, you say while looking everywhere, but his eyes, “Pfft you are not a funny person, I don’t remember laughing while talking to you”, Changbin says while rolling his eyes, “Oh really? Why did the chicken cross the road?”, you say making an attempt to make him laugh, “Why?”, Changbin says, already cringing even though you haven’t finished the joke yet, “Because there was kfc on the other side!”, you say smiling awkwardly, “Oh… umm… that was… no comment…”, Changbin says while forming a fake smile, “i’ll go now… you and Chan definitely are a thing and you are something…”, Changbin says while walking away, Chan approaches you, sitting beside you. “What were you guys talk about?”, Chan says while smiling widely at you and taking a bite of his food, “Oh that… it was nothing… haha…”, you say while smiling weirdly at him, “Ok, you guys were definitely talking about something weird”, Chan says as he chuckled. Few minutes passed and you looked like a tomato, so red from blushing, and you were a laughing mess, Chan looks at you and can’t help but admire you, the way you laughed, the way your smile lights up the whole place. You both stare at eachother and it was silent, you accidentally drop your spoon, you both look down to pick it up, both of your head bump with eachother, both of you chuckled, “You alright?”, Chan says while smiling sweetly at you, caressing your head, both of you looked at eachother again, Chan stared at your eyes and at your beautiful face, all he wanted to do right now was to kiss you. Then, Chan said “Y/n can I court you?”, “What… Chan, don’t be ridiculous”, you say while lauging awkwardly, “Y/n, ever since I saw you, you were the only one that I think about 24/7, I wonder if you like this and that, I wonder what it would be like having you in my arms, hugging and cuddling with you, I wonder what it would be like to be… yours… Y/n you haunt my mind day and night, so please…”, Chan looks at you with determination in his eyes, “Chan, I mean… why me? theres so much better girls out there… I mean-”, you say while Chan looks at you in disbelief and cuts you off by kissing you on your lips, “But…”, you say while Chan broke off the kiss, “No more buts, I take that as a yes, see you again tomorrow, love you!, Chan says while running away, smiling like an idiot, you feel your cheeks heat up, “There is no way that this isn’t a dream”, you say while still flabbergasted.

The next day, Chan texted you to meet at the back of the bleachers, you go there and see him holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a 2 packs of dried mangoes (if you don’t like mangoes well you do now), “I know you really like these” Chan says while smiling cutely at you, you take the flowers and he grabs your hand to sit with him on the bleachers, “I know you don’t really like catching people’s attention, so I took you here instead, let’s eat these together”, he says while placing a kiss on your cheek, “And who told you, you can kiss me on the cheek? hm?”, you say, teasing him, “Oh you don’t want kisses on the cheek? Ok, ill just kiss you on the lips then”, Chan doesn’t let you respond and he suddenly holds your waist and pecks on your lips multiple times, “Chan! stop it”, you say while blushing, “Chan, you do know that you’re still courting me, I can’t just let you kiss me”, you say shyly, “Oh but you let me kiss you at the cafeteria yesterday though”, Chan says in a teasing tone, “Hey!… I did not let you kiss me, you just suddenly kissed me out of nowhere”, you say, acting sassy, “Yeah sure… whatever you say”, he says rolling his eyes while smiling, you pout and shove 3 pieces of dried mangoes in his mouth to make him shut up, Chan chuckled at your cuteness. When class was over, Chan drived you back home, and you placed a kiss on his cheek and opened the door and ran fast, leaving him flabbergasted like you the day he asked to court you.

Everyday, Chan would always give you something, something that made your day. Each day, you see the amount of effort he gives you. One day, while Chan was driving you home after he took you out for dinner, you hold his hand while the traffic lights turned red, he looks at you and smiles at you, “Yes”, you say while he’s confused by what you meant, “What?”, Chan say’s, confused, “it’s a yes Chan, my answer is yes”, you say while smiling widely at him, “Wha… ooooooh… Oh! Really?!?! wait you better be serious right now”, Chan says as the traffic lights turned green, “Baby, did you really have to do that now, Im so happy, I can’t even focus on driving, oh gosh”, Chan says while smiling like an idiot, this was the first time he called you “Baby”.

Few years later

Both of you were happily married, you and Chan are cuddling on the bed, wearing matching pajamas, he plays with your hair while you snuggle on him, “I never thought I would have a chance with you, not until that day you asked me if you can court me”, you say as he kisses your head, sniffing your hair that smelled like your favorite flower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I cant believe I did this in one night 😭, I tagged some of the people that liked part 1 early.

@nowadays56 @therid-iidae @bethanysnow @itsshy2001 @arloo00 @jenzlovschan @zofiaaa @mjailene15 @jusanontstuff @honeyjake @saaucie @brownriceocean @planetoddinary

[ode2rin]

your tequila lips is my idea of luxury

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. fluff & university/college rom :D 

warnings/content. 4.1k+ wc | soccer team captain!reo (giggles) | mentions of alcohol, drinking, and drunken state | public kissing (don’t ask) | minimal proofread | me and my poor attempt of banter

in which: last night left you with three hazy memories — a dare, a kiss, and the name reo mikage

If college has managed to drill one thing into your head, it’s the gospel of abstaining from weekday drinking. After all, who in their right mind willingly marches to class with a pounding headache? Certainly not you.

But if there’s also one thing college didn't prepare you for, that is ignoring that one advice it drilled into you, and the golden rule of never, ever going against your own wisdom. 

If it did, then maybe you wouldn’t find yourself seated at the table of your kitchen dorm, your elbows resting heavily on its surface and your hands cradling your throbbing head, with your fingers pressed against your temples in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pounding sensation that is making you feel like it’s your last day on earth.

And to add a splash of more chaos to the mix, you feel like your headache intensified by tenfold at the absurdity of what your roommate just told you.

“I did fucking what now?”

“You kissed Reo at the party last night! Reo freaking Mikage!”

Yup, it’s definitely your last day on earth.

“ —and we squealed so loud! We never thought you had it in you to pull shit like that!” 

Well, you didn’t either.

“Hold on, talk slowly! I kissed him?!” 

Furrowing your brows, you attempt to process the bombshell your roommate just dropped on you. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot what happened last night!”

To say that your roommate did a poor job of filling you in on what atrocity happened last night is an understatement. The only thing you managed to register from the weirdly sequenced story were two things: kiss and Reo. 

And from there, the memories of last night came rushing back to you. 

Fucking hell.

You are damned, no doubt. Of all people, it had to be Reo Mikage. Are you even allowed to say that name so casually, even in your mind? That name drips gold and glory in every letter. He’s probably the richest guy on campus, the most famous (for sure), and on top of that, he’s the captain of the goddamn soccer team. Talk about a boring and plain college life he’s living. 

And to kiss that said man in a party for a dare? You’re doomed. You’re done for. You did the worst thing imaginable. 

You should’ve known better that nothing good comes out of college parties and dumb drinking games.

You made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, that you admit. But this one probably takes the top spot.

And it all started innocently enough – with a dare. 

The kind of dare that only seems like a great idea after a few too many shots. You had been the reigning champion of beer pong for as long as you could remember, and your friends decided it was high time to knock you down a peg. The stakes were set: a dare for a dare, and you were handed the ultimatum. Win the game or face the consequences.

But as fate would have it, your well-practiced skills crumbled under the pressure, and you found yourself facing the ultimate punishment—eight shots of tequila, back-to-back, in quick succession. 

Under typical circumstances, you could easily handle that quantity, but regular situations don't account for having a crucial presentation the following day. Eight shots? It's a nightmare, considering you've reached your limit.

And so, you found yourself stumbling through the crowd with only one goal in mind: redemption.

Or maybe it was the tequila that whispered that goal into your ear, urging you to prove yourself. It was hard to tell. 

And in that hazy state, your eyes had locked onto a figure that seemed to glow amidst the dim lights of the party. Reo Mikage, a name that resonated through campus like a melody, stood there, his presence magnetic and his smile dangerously alluring.

Without much thought, you approached the poseur table he was located at.

“Are you single?” you asked him the second you got close enough for him to hear. Fortunately, he wasn't surrounded by his usual crowd.

Now, what happened to ‘hello’? To ‘are you having fun?’ That question is too straightforward for a conversation starter, isn't it? 

“Yeah? Yes, I mean.” Reo replied, confusion evident in his tone.

“Okay good, listen.” Stepping closer, you caught him off guard, and he instinctively took a step back. His movement prompted a questioning look from you, tinged with a hint of concern because it was one step, yet he backed away for three. Little did you know, your proximity was affecting him more than the alcohol he'd consumed.

Undeterred and tequila-fueled, you continued. “I really don't want to drink those abominations in liquid form my friends dared me, so may you find it in your good heart to let me kiss the shit out of you so I’m saved.”

What the hell did he just hear? “Kiss the shit out of me…?”

“Yeah.” So, he heard you right. He’s not making it up. Good, he thinks.

“What do I get in return?”

“Lunch? My treat.” 

Did you just offer a multimillionaire heir a lunch and promise it's on you? At this point, you're not drunk — you're certifiably crazy.

“Hmm, sounds good. Alright, please do show me how the shit out of me can be kissed by you.”

In the face of his agreement, you rolled your eyes at his mocking tone. But there was no time for second-guessing; this was your moment.

Grasping the front of his shirt, you tugged him closer. You saw how his eyes widened at what you did before it broke out to a boyish grin. A breath passed, and then — the two of you collided.

In the electrified space between heartbeats, your lips found each other hungrily. His breath mingled with yours, a shared exchange of anticipation as your mouths moved in sync, exploring each other with an urgency that defied logic.

The taste of tequila still lingered, a faint reminder of the daring choice that had led you here. But it was the heat, the fervor, that consumed you both. Your bodies pressed together, the proximity sparking flames of need that danced through your veins.

His fingers found purchase at your waist, the touch igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and a moan rose out of your throat as he drew your bottom lip between his teeth, a delicious tug that blurred the lines between who was kissing whom.

You pulled back from the kiss first, and a protest almost climbed Reo’s throat. But he knew better than to step in unwarranted, instead, he settled with savoring the image of your flushed state. Even in these neon blaring lights, Reo could discern your state with your heavy panting. Was it because of the alcohol? Or him? He hopes it’s the latter.

“That was… fuck. Thank your friends for the dare for me, yeah?”

And that’s how it all ended — with a kiss far from innocent.

Now here you are, nursing a splitting headache as you trudged across campus, textbooks clutched to your chest, trying to shake off the remnants of last night's debauchery. The taste of regret was heavy on your tongue—not just from the hangover, but from the events that led up to it.

In your slightly inebriated mind, the plan made sense. Kiss the hottest guy at the party, and you'd show your friends that you were up to the challenge. It was akin to hitting two birds with one stone: escaping the impending liquor onslaught and salvaging your pride. 

At the time, it sounded good – sounded like a winning strategy. But now? You want to bang your head against the wall for even thinking it made sense. And you’d do it if it weren’t for your phone buzzing in your pocket interrupting your self-loathing.

Last night for Reo was enchanting, to say the least. 

It was like a spark in the darkness, an unexpected surge of joy that he found himself smirking at the memory, reliving the sensation of your lips in his.

Last night might have been the spark, but it wasn't where it all began for Reo. 

Before you approached him at the party, he remembered you from freshman year. It was hard not to—especially when he recalled the exact moment. He perfectly remembers how you looked him dead in the eye and quipped,“Why waste your time on that sport if your aim is as off as a blindfolded archer? The goal's over there, genius. Not me.” after his supposed goal went astray and hit you in the back.

Well, he took that personally— word for word. And within a year, he had risen to become the best player on the team.

Now add that memory to the daring kiss you shared last night? There was no way Reo would be forgetting you anytime soon. He was now on a mission to make sure that you remembered him as vividly as he remembered you.

Good thing you owe him lunch, and an even better thing that he spotted you just now on a bench near the field he was on. He chuckled to himself at the coincidence, he wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. 

Reo, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, was perhaps one of the last people on earth to put faith in notions like fate. But maybe he can make an exception to that philosophy if it’s you. 

Because right now, this whole thing felt like a mischievous wink from the cosmos, giving Reo a shot at something he had only dared to imagine. Wasting no more chances, he pulled out his phone.

[Today, 8:32 AM]

Is this Y/N?  This is Reo, by the way.

From his vantage point, he saw you reach for your phone immediately after he hit send. The widening of your eyes and the hint of surprise as you read his message didn't go unnoticed.

Cute. Peering down to his phone, he snorted with laughter at your response.

y/n: No. You’ve got the wrong number. [8:33 AM] Your friend confirmed it’s yours, though :P [8:33 AM] Also, I can see you typing. [8:34 AM]

Your eyes immediately scanned the whole field in search of the possible source of your college life’s impending doom. After a few seconds of looking with furrowed brows and a crinkled nose, there – you saw him, with his head slightly cocked to the side and his arms crossed over his chest, grinning at your display of reaction to his messages.

Your searching eyes transformed into bewilderment the instant he stood up, making his way toward you. Realizing that the two of you couldn’t be seen together under any circumstances to avoid igniting unnecessary gossip, your fingers danced over the screen of your phone, rapidly firing off messages that inundated his notifications.

y/n: what do you need are you trying to approach me stop right there stop walking!!!! everyone's looking i swear to god [8:37 AM]

Your frantic typing, however, seemed to make no impact. As if on a mission, Reo continued walking closer to you with the most annoyingly confident grin on his lips. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering and undeterred.

Even from the distance that separates you two, you could make out what he was wearing. And you were damn sure, it was the sluttiest piece of clothing a man could wear.

The divine must really have its favorites, it seems. Because while you looked like hell had taken up residence on your head from last night’s festivities, he looked too sinful for a sunny morning in his compression shirt. 

No one should look that damn good at 8 AM—it's practically criminal and a slap in the face to regular college students like you.

As Reo closed the distance between you, you could practically feel the weight of all those curious eyes fixated on the scene. Were they looking at him? You? Or both? The thought alone made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.

“Hi.” 

Hi? You’re hyperventilating from the attention the two of you are getting and he quips a hi? 

“What do you need?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady amid the prying gazes of onlookers.

Reo's grin remained stubbornly intact, seemingly oblivious to the audience around you. “I’m here to collect a favor you owe me!” he declared with an enthusiasm that felt almost out of place in this surreal moment.

He can’t be seriously asking you to buy him lunch, right? What does he even eat? A5 Wagyu steak? There’s no way your student budget can afford that.

“I don’t remember owing you anything.”

“Really? I’ll remind you then, you offered to buy me lunch last night before you grabbed my collar and kissed m–”

“Finish that sentence, and lunch is not the only thing you’ll get from me.”

Your threat hung heavy in the air, your words loaded with a blend of annoyance and embarrassment that had settled on your cheeks.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” and yet, ever undeterred from your hostility, Reo's voice took on a smug, teasing tone that matched the twinkle in his eye.

This guy. “You're a bit annoying, don’t you think?”

“No, I don't think I am,” he countered, “And I also don't think that's how you should speak to someone who, and I quote, found it in their good heart to kiss you and save you from eight shots of tequila, though.”

Reo was on a mission, that much was clear. And quoting your exact words from last night seemed to be one of his tactics to ensure you remembered him and that kiss you shared. 

And lucky him, it looks like it’s working like a charm in which the telltale warmth in your cheeks revealed. Unfortunately for you, your simmering frustration combined with a throbbing headache could either launch you into a one-way ticket to expulsion or earn you a potential criminal record.

May the universe and all the saints grant you patience, because the overwhelming urge to wipe that damn grin off his face is slowly overtaking your senses.

You glanced at your watch, calculating whether you had enough time to wrap up your presentation before considering lunch. “Fine. Text me the location,” you conceded, your tone reluctantly agreeable. “I have a presentation to do first. I'll meet you there before noon.”

It might turn out to be a questionable financial decision to let him choose the lunch spot, but you were sticking to your word. You still owed him, after all.

“Sure. Good luck on your presentation. I’m sure you’ll devour the shit out of it.” 

His playful tone, quoting your own words again back at you, made your eyes roll in a mix of annoyance and flustered embarrassment.

Reo, on the other hand, seems like he’s having the time of his life with your reactions.

Someone can’t wait for lunch time, it seems. And clearly, that’s not you but a certain purple-haired.

If anyone were to observe Reo in this moment, they might easily mistake his fidgeting for the anxious prelude to a first Tinder meet up. Of course, that would be utterly absurd, considering he was simply awaiting someone's arrival, who happened to owe him a wholesome meal.

The little bell above the restaurant's entrance jingled, drawing Reo's attention like a magnet. 

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk in, much to his surprise. Seemingly fresh and put-together now, you appeared quite different from the disarrayed figure he had spotted on the field earlier. 

Your smile, which now adorned your face as you exchanged pleasantries with the hostess, seemed to hint that your presentation had gone well, and perhaps the remnants of last night’s headache were subsiding.

Casually dressed yet carrying an air of understated confidence, you navigated the room with ease. His eyes followed you as you moved, taking in the subtle sway of your hair, the way your lips curved into polite smiles for familiar faces. He observed this scene unfolding before him, almost as if he were watching a scene from one of those romcom movies.

When your gaze finally settled on him, Reo could feel the heat making its way to his neck that he hoped his collar was hiding well.

The moment you settled into your seat, you wasted no time in addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room. “I’m sorry I put you in that position last night,” you blurted out.

Conversation starters were not your strong suit, Reo noted with an inward chuckle. Last night's shameless question was understandable, given the influence of alcohol, but in the clear light of day, your choice of conversation openers left much to be desired.

“It’s fine,” he replied with a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a faint smile of reassurance. He raised his left hand to catch the waiter's attention, subtly signaling for the menu. “Glad it was me, actually,” he mumbled more to himself than to you, his own unfiltered thought taking him by surprise.

“What?”

“What?”

Before you could even attempt to untangle the verbal knot, the waiter arrived with the menus, saving Reo from any further explanations. He observed as the waiter acknowledged you, a smile exchanged between you two. It seemed you were a regular here, and he found himself intrigued by yet another layer of your personality.

“You know him?” Reo inquired, nodding toward the departing waiter.

“Oh, I'm a regular here. It's my favorite place,” you explained with a hint of fondness.

“What are the chances? It's mine too.” 

Your eyes narrowed in playful disbelief, seemingly not buying the idea of someone like Reo enjoying a meal at a diner like this. “You?”

You admit you were surprised when he texted you of this place being his choice of dining. You were totally gearing up for him to suggest some fancy French or Italian joint where you'd need to take out a loan just to cover the bill. After all, people like him should be dining on caviar and foie gras. But then he texted you this choice, and maybe he's more down-to-earth than you thought. Or maybe he just knows where the good food is. It's hard to believe either, though.

Challenged, Reo insisted, “Yes. Me.”

“Alright, what are you having then? I’m ordering their famous pesto pasta—surely you know what that is, right?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 

“Of course, I do.” Reo was basically lying through his teeth, at this point. But he couldn’t back down from his claim. And what? Admit that it's his first time here and the only reason he chose this was because he often sees you eating here? Not a chance.

“Why don’t you order for us then?”

With no turning back, he quipped, “Sure thing,” before signaling for a server. He sensed your amused gaze on him, and a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

“We’ll have two orders of your pesto pasta, please.”

“Uhm sir, we don’t serve pasta here.”

You let out a laugh, and Reo swears he could almost hear the birds chirping in the background.

Maybe a bit of embarrassment was a fair trade for that sound, he mused.

Lunch, for you, was not so bad and not quite the disaster you initially imagined.

Not until, out of nowhere, Reo brought up your embarrassing escapade from last night, “Was it because of that incident in freshman year that you approached me last night?”

“Freshman year?” you echoed, momentarily thrown off track. “Did we ever have a class together? Because I genuinely can't picture myself willingly signing up for economics or any finance-related course.”

“No, we didn't share any classes. And what's wrong with those courses? They're actually quite enjoyable.”

Yeah, if your idea of fun is spending hours deciphering graphs and balancing budgets. Enjoyable if you think that analyzing the stock market is the pinnacle of excitement.

“I don’t remember you from freshman year, though.” you admitted.

Reo's disbelief was palpable as he leaned back in his chair, a smug grin settling in. “You told me I suck at soccer a couple of years ago. Ring any bells? It was on the field.”

“I did fucking what now again?” You briefly questioned your past choices – or the lack of recollection thereof. Were you perpetually in a tipsy daze during your time at university? How could you miss every brash choice you made? Your brazen mouth could indeed get you into unforeseen trouble one day, that much is very clear.

“And here I was, thinking you kissed me on that dare as payback for me accidentally hitting you with a soccer ball.” Reo chuckled at your surprise, leaning back further.

“No,” you retorted, shaking your head slightly. “I did it because the dare was to kiss someone we found hot at the party.”

Oh. “So you think I’m hot?”

“My drunk self sure did.”

“Well, and what does your sober self think now?”

Clearly, this banter was a game both of you were more than willing to play. With a pointed gaze, you focused on Reo, a slow grin tugging at your lips. The effect on Reo was almost instantaneous—his throat cleared awkwardly, and his confident grin faltering.

“My sober self thinks my drunk self is absolutely right.” 

You infused the word ‘absolutely’ with a nonchalant drawl, noting the flush creeping up Reo’s cheeks. His composure seemed to waver, and he hastily reached for his drink, downing it within seconds. 

Satisfied that you managed to wipe his confident grin, you pressed on, “Are you blushing?”

“No,” Reo responded a bit too quickly, his voice a tad higher than usual. “It’s a bit hot in here.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” You chuckled at his flimsy excuse, your eyes catching the telltale shade of red tinting his ears and neck. Reo is easy to fluster as it is for him to do so, you noted. “Let’s get out of here, let me just pay.” 

Just as you were about to signal a waiter, Reo halted you with his words, “It’s done.”

“Done?”

“I gave them my card before you arrived.”

What the fuck. “But the favor…”

Reo's smirk reappeared, a gleam of triumph in those amethyst orbs. “Looks like you still owe me a date.”

“A lunch,” you corrected him, but Reo shrugged nonchalantly, a playful ‘same thing’ expression on his face.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mimicked your tone, “Let me walk you to your next class.” He offered, rising from his seat as you did.

“Thank you, but absolutely no.”

“Why not?” 

Reo must be really oblivious to his fame, it seems. “Just because. Also, don’t you have practice?”

“I do, but ten more minutes with you sounds better.” 

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to charm you. “Are you slacking off, captain? Looks like my freshman self was right about your soccer skills after all.”

“I’m not slacking off, I just know my priorities.” and there it was again, that grin and that stare. Whether it was the tequila or just him, Reo really had a way of pulling you into his orbit.

Bashful, and at a loss for better retorts, you looked away. “Next time.”

“So there’s a next time, then?” he innocently asks, clearly fishing for another affirmation.

“Next time, I’m paying.” 

“Got that.” Reo mindlessly agreed. He’s just happy there’s a next time, honestly. “Let me walk you out, at least.”

Both of you left the restaurant, walking side by side in companionable silence. After a few moments, you decided to break the quietude that had settled between you.

“I guess we're parting ways here,” you remarked, your voice carrying a hint of finality.

Reo’s disappointment was evident, though he tried to mask it. “Sure. Thank you for the meal.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What are you thanking me for? You paid for it.”

“Let me rephrase it then, thank you for introducing me to this place. I’ve clearly been missing out,” he beams.

“You're welcome, Mr. Fine Dining.”

As you walked a few steps ahead of Reo, you turned your head to look back at him, seemingly remembering something to tell him. “Oh, by the way,” you start, a teasing smile making its way to your lips, “I’m glad it was you too.”

With that, you took one last glance at his starstruck expression before parting ways, leaving him with a lingering smile.

Maybe something good does come out of stupid college parties and dumb drinking games – in the form of someone with enchanting smiles and magnetic purple eyes, that is.

And now, for sure, with or without the tequila haze, there’s not a single chance you’re forgetting Reo Mikage anytime soon. 

note. he makes me ill ( i love him very much and this is purely self-indulgent because i need him like air).