#sorry I won’t get into the details but I am salty

[smilesrobotlover]

ok I have a question. Your brain seems to have a lot in common with mine. We clearly think about Zelda too much. In particular, we both seem obsessed with Twilight Princess side characters. And some recent posts have made it clear you love Star Wars to a degree too.

this is an idea I had a while ago but am not confident enough to draw— the Resistance, but the Bad Batch. Link as Echo, Rusl as Hunter, Ashei as Crosshair, Shad as Tech, maybe Telma as Wrecker (and Louise is her Lula), and maybe Zelda as Omega. no worries if you don’t take requests. But these thoughts live rent free in my head and it would look so good in your style

Oooh yes it’s a fun idea! I do not take requests and I hold a lot of resentment towards the bad batch unfortunately (I still haven’t seen season 2 but that’s mostly cuz I don’t have the motivation to watch it BDKSBSK) but I love teams like that <333

[mega-pixie-dream-girl]

Making Space - Part II

1990

❣ I am still very new at writing these! I know I am long-winded... I could probably edit even more and make small moment high-intensity fics, but this is sort of my style ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and I have decided to make this story more of a chap book. Note: I leave some details in brackets when I don't want to associate a real name/place/thing, fill it in madlibs style ❣

Pairing: Dave Mustaine x f!reader

Summary: Y/n is a musician--well, sort of. She is getting back into it when she meets Dave who has a practice space she can use. She wasn't looking for a muse... just a spark to ignite her creative passions. But falling for another musician is like playing with fire–falling for the frontman of Megadeth, that's like playing with an a-bomb.

𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓝𝓘𝓝𝓖𝓢: power dynamic/mentorship, size, fluff, smut, angst

read Part I here

.・。♪.・゜✧・.♬・☆・゜・。. • ✧ ♪ . ° .• °:.♬ *₊ ° . ✧.・。♪.・゜✧

I drank more that weekend than I had drank in a month–which wasn’t hard since I didn’t really drink much. I had gone back to the Diamond Saloon Saturday and Sunday, hoping I might run into Dave. No such luck. Monday–my first day with my rehearsal hours in Dave’s practice room–came and went, the little folded up envelope of cash I brought to pay him feeling heavier in my pocket knowing I still had not seen him again since that night he disappeared to talk to some record exec right before we almost got drinks together. Ugh. Was I torturing myself? Perhaps setting myself up to be the character in an old sci-fi mystery show where every time I was close to getting to know him, something cataclysmic would get in the way? 

But Tuesday would be 1 week since we met at Diamond Saloon–surely he would be there again–but… he had another show tonight so maybe not. I could go see him play… but maybe he was already over it, over me.

The night was mine and I wore my favorite mini dress. There was no way I was going to be caught dead chasing a guy who had left me outside a venue like a half-empty bottle put down and forgotten. I went to the bar down the block from where he was playing to preserve my dignity. 

Sitting at the bar I felt like I was still in transit, like I hadn’t arrived, the emptiness of something missing I tried to quell, perhaps the bar will pick up in half an hour, or maybe it’s the wrong night–but deep down I knew I was waiting for someone who wasn’t there. My heart sank as I walked past heads that turned, none his, even though I knew he wouldn’t be here if he was playing down the block. It was like the night was slipping out of my grasp.

I sought the liveliness of the night I had dreamt up, relying on a change of scenery to fill in where my own lack of chatter failed. Changing bars, once, twice, I found myself at the diner, chicken soup at 2am. I had a habit of turning every page of the book-like menu even when I knew what I wanted and the waitress knew too. The noodles and salty broth felt like a hug, my own little place as other patrons laughed with friends.

"...Well, if Junior here hadn’t helped that old lady with her bags, she wouldn’t have stolen his wallet, and if she hadn’t stolen his wallet, we would have been able to replace the drum kit. I guess we just won’t be playing there for a while…"

It was fate.

I heard their footsteps get louder.

"Alright. Alright. Just fuck karma, right? It’s totally my fault Nick was drunk, missed his most important entrance, and broke the kick…" Junior responded annoyed.

They kept walking, except for one. Dave paused.

"Hey." His tone was suddenly softer. The rest of the band scooted into a booth.

"Oh, hey."

"Um… The other night–I–"

"It’s fine. Whatever."

"No–um… Sorry…" He said, looking down. "Can I make it up to you? I’m not [Jazz Guitarist], but maybe I could give you a lesson? We could go back to the studio–we could go now–" He said, lips parted, "if you want…"

"I was actually planning on heading out–"

"I can drive you back after?"

I paused. I wanted so badly to be aloof, to not betray my pride, but his red lips were frozen slightly apart as if waiting for me, for the smoke of my coquettish veil to lift. Imagining feeling them on mine I felt my own lips tingle, if only he would pull me close to him now. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he could already read the subtext of my heart between the lines of my mind. The night was mine again. I nodded in agreement. He held out his hand to steady me as I left the booth I was in.

"How was the show?" I asked as we walked toward the rehearsal space.

"Terrible."

"Why? What happened?"

"Everything."

"It couldn’t have been that bad."

"Just… everything was just… off."

I wanted to cup his cheek and tell him not to worry.

"You just need to clone yourself and master each instrument."

He smiled at my joke. "Sure… 4 drunk assholes instead of 1 drunk asshole and 3 drunk dumb asses… Totally would solve it." He mused back.

When we got up to the rehearsal room it felt different–the string lights glowed in the dim room with only another lamp on in the corner alight. Dave made an effort to kick aside more of the beer cans that had accumulated, brushing away the soot of an ashtray too small to contain its usage. To my surprise, he pushed aside the stool too. Shuffling through the shelf of gear and oddities, he pulled out a woven blanket and some pillows and placed them on the ground picnic style. He set up 2 guitars, placing them down on either side of the blanket.

"Do you want a beer?"

"Sure."

Hand me a cold can of beer from the faux wood-grain mini fridge that closed with a clap.

We sat down on the blanket, facing each other, each taking a guitar into our laps. His magnetic eyes were soft but firm and like his hair, they lit up almost golden in the dim, warm light. It felt as if he was looking at me with x-ray vision and I felt my heat wet in the silence as his eyes calmly raked over my body. My heart felt almost at peace, finally having his undivided attention. I felt twisted up inside, wanting to learn from him but also wanting to move in closer to his toned body and take the guitar out of his arms so they would be free to embrace me.

"Can we work on [song name]?" I asked.

"Sure." He nodded.

He showed me some of the riffs, then played the chords so I could practice over them in time, keeping his eyes on me, as if his hands were someone else’s or his mind completely split from them to let his sultry, piercing gaze stay on me as he played. I kept looking down at the fretboard to make sure my fingers were in the right places. 

Losing track of time, the only eon that mattered was the length of this song, the repetition as we felt out each riff along the fretboard, each breath subtly punctuating the articulation of the notes, his slowly curling smile making our steady rhythm feel faster as it mixed with my heartbeat. 

We didn’t need to talk to know what was next–I plugged into his movements, copying his own and when I played it right he went faster, then he moved to the next one, then we connected them. Maybe it was his talent as a guitarist–how intimately he knew the instrument–but I felt like he was learning me instead, becoming in tune with my movements as he coached my fingers, pushing me harder just enough to get me to the edge of losing it before I reached the satisfying peak of playing each riff correctly over and over.

When we came to the end of the song, Dave sipped his beer. "You play pretty well." He complimented.

"Thanks, you're a good teacher."

"I’m actually impressed. You’re good." He set his guitar down and looked at me, leaning slightly against a crate behind him. "How old are you?"

"24."

"You’re young." He smiled, tilting his head a bit. "Are you a vocalist, or just play guitar?" 

"Both." I answered, nonchalantly.

"Looks like we have something in common then." He smirked, before picking up his guitar again. "I’d like to hear ya. Can you play your favorite song?"

I think for a moment, I felt a pang of nerves and excitement–I'm actually a great vocalist, I just really want to be better at guitar. This is my chance to actually impress him. "Um…" I nodded and started playing and singing. I started with my favorite bossa nova song, playing the chords and starting to sing, my voice like cool rain cutting through the warm hum of amps and the growing tension between us. He jumped in accompanying me on guitar, jamming along, his chin leaning slightly closer as he listened intently. Then I gave a bit of a curveball, switching into a rock song. He followed, my vocals now switching from mellow bossa nova jazz to soulful rock.

I couldn’t help but glow as his eyes gave away his subtle amazement, not once looking away. His fingers moved with ease, picking up the chords by ear and filling in with little riffs. 

"Damn, you have a hell of a voice, sweetheart."

I grinned, enjoying my moment to show off, but his attention was almost too much.

Smiling, he chuckled a bit, his guitar still in his lap. "Why the bashfulness,? You’re amazing."

"Thanks... I-I guess I haven't sung in front of someone I know in a while."

He gazed at me so warmly, his smile radiating from his eyes most of all. "Oh yeah? Who was the last person you sang to?"

I paused. I didn’t really want to think about it–about my ex. "Just someone I knew…" 

A glint of curiosity sparked in his eyes. "Your voice is beautiful. I’m surprised you’re not in some well-known girl band or something. Also… you are very confident… but nervous at the same time… Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?"

I felt like I could sing in front of him forever. "I–no–it's just–"

He smirked as I stumbled over my words, giving little else away on his face.

"I think you're really talented." I say, avoiding admitting my crush on him.

He didn’t buy it. 

"Your turn. Will you sing something for me?" I tried to pivot the conversation. 

He seemed a little surprised at first. "Yeah, of course. Any requests?"

"Your favorite song."

I already knew he sings well, but his normally rough-around-the-edges voice was smoother than usual, sultry, taking over the whole room. His hands moved over the chords, every note articulated perfectly yet so relaxed. It was a passionate song, clearly a love song–a softer song from a harder band–but something about the way he looked at me, combined with the lyrics, made it feel like it was meant for me.

"Not what I would have guessed" I muse.

He chuckled. "No? What did you expect me to sing? Something more heavy metal?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. But you are really good at this too."

"I have range, too, you know." 

For a brief moment, his gaze flickered down to my lips before returning to my gaze. His eyes searched mine, almost as if he was looking at me with hunger, as if he was restraining himself, gulping as if to swallow his desires, keeping his demeanor composed. I felt like I was winning a week-long game of tug-of-war.

"It’s getting late." I say, desperate for his next move as his gaze seemed like it could hold me for eternity.

"Yeah… it is." He said his jaw shifting a bit.

Reaching out he brushed a stray hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear, just grazing my skin. "Are you sure you wanna go home?"

I knew that I could ask him to teach me more, but the temperature in the room had risen with the electrifying current between us.

He continued to lightly stroke my hair tucked behind my ear.

"I think I need to get home." I finally said, still feeling a bit slighted from the other night. "Maybe I can see you again?"

He swallowed, a flicker of disappointment going through his eyes, simply nodding and withdrawing his hand from my face.

"Of course, Sweetheart." He said, forcing a smile, "Anytime you want."

As we left the studio we were greeted by the damp early morning air on the deserted street, quiet and still. It must have been nearly 4am–a light drizzle raining on our skin and wetting the streets so that even the cars a few blocks away sounded like velcro pulling apart as they drove. Dave walked alongside me, but the connection we had while playing felt like it was worlds away. I reached out and held his hand as we walked, interlacing my fingers with his. He immediately gave my hand a gentle squeeze in response, as if silently communicating that he was still there, still thinking about me, in spite of walking in a sort of quiet awkward silence a few blocks towards his car. 

The rain started to get a bit heavier. My breath did too, as he started to rub my hand gently with his thumb. Lightning flashed above us and with a clap of thunder it started to pour.

Dave swore under his breath and looked up, realizing there was no way to avoid the downpour. He stopped, gently pulling me closer to him until I was nearly pressed up against his body. Eyeing a shop awning, he moved quickly, pulling us under the awning to get out of the heavy rain and turning his body to shield me from the brunt of the storm as best he could. He was pretty soaked now, his long hair sticking to his face and shoulders, his arms on either side of my head, effectively pinning me in place. 

His back breaking the pummeling rain, his white t-shirt began to become more transparent clinging to his toned body, emphasizing the muscles beneath the thin, damp fabric as his chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. He glanced over his shoulder at the rain as it came down in sheets before his eyes returned, lingering on my wet face. I felt the heat rise within me, my heart pounding against my chest. I let my gaze fall to his perfect red lips, his muscular frame keeping me safe from the storm.

Every breath as his eyes enjoyed me between the wall and his chiseled form felt like a flash of lightning, illuminating the lust behind his dark gaze. He leaned in a little closer, "Sweetheart…" he whispered, closing the space between us so that our noses almost brushed, his voice was low, filled with a hint of huskiness, and a gentle fondness. "You look beautiful…" he murmured, much softer than the man I had first heard walk into the diner tonight.

Our bodies arching together, he closed the gap between us, his lips capturing mine bringing an overwhelming flush to my face as his hand began to gently trace up my arm, bringing his electric touch up the side of my heated cheeks, fingers tangling into my hair. He kissed me like he’d been yearning for the past 20 hours all at once, his body pressing against me like I might disappear if he didn’t hold onto the moment. He let out a small exhale as I hooked my fingers through his belt loops, pulling his body tighter against mine, his hips instinctually leaning into my touch and pinning me against the wall completely. His touch was firm yet so gentle all at once as he slid his hand down, brushing the side of my breast and coming to rest on my hip, leaving a trail of fire on my skin.

The kiss slowly became softer and gentler, his hand wandering from my hip down my leg. But slowly, his hand started to move to the underside of my dress, fingers tracing up the skin of my thigh with a feather-light touch.

My breath hitched in our kiss as he started to trace the edge of my lace panties before slipping his finger between the fabric and my heat.

"Sensitive." He chuckled, taking in the image of my pleading eyes. He took his time, slowly exploring the contours of my intimate parts. I couldn’t help but grind into his touch, arching my back as his muscular torso stayed firm against me. His gaze drank me in with a look of both affection and heated desire as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in closer.

"Impatient, darling?" He teased, his brows raising a bit.

"Like I said, you’re talented." I replied breathily, knowing he saw through it the first time. He huffed out a soft laugh, his hand on my back rubbing in a gentle circle. He grinned, his eyes sparkling with a combination of amusement and affection.

The sound of rain began to soften and the small amount of pelting on the awning slowly came to a pitter-patter. It was as if the world had hushed to a near-silent still. He took a moment to look around.

"Looks like the storm's passing." He hummed. He hadn't moved any further away, his hand still on my back while the other continued to tease and explore. "Don't suppose you want to forget about that going home part, hmm?"

.・。♪.・゜✧・.♬・☆・゜・。. • ✧ ♪ . ° .• °:.♬ *₊ ° . ✧.・。♪.・゜✧

...to be continued... read Part I here

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi there!

I hope you’re doing well, i love your blog and i think you’re a very cool person.

I have a bit of a problem and i was hoping i could get some advice from you about it

So basically last year i had a really hard time at school due to my terrible mental health. I don’t want to go into too much detail but i just felt horrible and i struggled with some very bad thoughts

I asked to go to a psychologist, and i was allowed to go, but only a few times before my parents decided it was too expensive for me to keep going (i did tell them multiple times how bad i felt, but they didn’t take me seriously)

At the same time as that was going on, my sibling was also having a tough time, but they received more support from our parents than I ever did (this isn’t that relevant, but I just feel salty about it so i included it)

Now i feel a bit better, but i’m scared when the school year starts again i’ll start getting bad again. I know i have to start doing better at school because it’s my last year and i need to get into a good university. That’s why I desperately need to get myself together and just magically feel better.

But then again, getting better is kind of hard, and i don’t have much support with that - i’m still a minor, so i can’t go to a therapist without my parents’ permission, and i know they probably won’t let me go if i ask. I can’t talk to my parents about my mental health anymore after how they treated me when i talked to them about it last time, and i don’t have any other trusted adult to go to about this.

I do have my friends though, and while i am extremely grateful that they’re there for me, i am scared that it won’t be enough and that i’ll have another mental breakdown in a few months

Do you have any advice for me on how to cope with stuff? All i need is to get through the next year and then once i go to uni i can actually seek professional help. Until then, is there anything I could do to make myself feel better?

Thanks so much for your help and i’m sorry to dump this on you, i’m just getting a bit desperate

lots of love from a stranger on the internet 💗

Hi hon!

I'm so sorry that you're struggling with this.

So I think this time around you have a bit of an advantage, because you know the things that trigger you and you can be proactive. If you feel yourself getting depressed, use the positive coping skills you have. But also, make sure to use them before you need them. Plan for lots of time for self-care. It might feel like a waste, but you're preventing being in the space you were in before.

If you find yourself in a spot like you were before, there are a lot of online help centers that you can use- the people on these help lines are trained. They aren't professionals like therapists are, but they are trained in a crisis and they can be helpful in a pinch, especially if you know you can get better help in the future.

Also- keep that in mind. You have hope in the future. Make a countdown on your phone and remind yourself that things will get better.

Edited to add: someone wrote to remind me- schools have counselors! Wow, it really is summer, I completely forgot to add this. Does your school have a counselor you'd be comfortable talking to? They can be very helpful to vent to and to help you with coping skills and manage school stress!

You can do this, and I'm here of you need to talk! <3

Naming you support anon!

[twindevilgang]

Hyee may i tr req s/o asking the boys if they had any pretty woman pictures in their phones and when the boys said no ( well its up to you either the ans is no or yes ) the s/o will ask them back like “ so i am ugly? “ im sorry if its too detailed or you can’t understand it😭😭😭 also you can do with any characters you want 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻 as long as there’s ran/kakucho

“So I’m ugly?”

Characters: Kakucho, Hakkai Shiba, Ran Haitani, Wakasa imaushi.

A/n: im still salty about kakucho not having a last name.😑 but that’s alright he can take my last name. And I’m sorry but I only have time to do three 😭

Kakucho

Is stressing

I’m talking stuttering and sweating bullets and full on turning red

You set him up for embarrassment 

“Dear, there’s no reason for me to have any pictures of ‘pretty’ women on my phone” Kakucho hummed out, never taking his eyes off some papers he was signing for Bonten. You raised a brow, he had fallen into your trap “so what? I’m ugly to you?” You say crossing your norms over your shoulder, just so it seemed you were offended. He went stiff, the pen he was holding almost snapping from how hard he was holding it. He look up you with Terror in his eyes, you wanted to laugh but you refrain yourself from doing so. “I’m-I’m sorry? What are you talking about? You’re very beautiful dear. You outshine every woman that crosses your path!” You huffed, turning your head away “I asked you if you had any pictures of pretty women on your phone, and you said no. Meaning you don’t have any pictures of me and calling me ugly kaku!” Kakucho started to sweat, what was he supposed to do now, honestly he’s scared you’ll get more angry. He pulled out his phone and handed it to you. “I swear I have at least 6 albums on my phone all dedicated to you! You can see for yourself” you played along, unlocking his phone while he sat patiently. Scrolling through his phone, he did in fact have six albums, all of them with a specific title. You hummed in approval, handing Kakucho back his phone. You got up from your seat and kissed on the cheek, leaving every confused and nervous kakucho behind.

Hakkai Shiba

Doesn’t know weather to cry or simply leave

Goes silent when you ask

‘If I don’t move she won’t see me’ type beat

Almost calls Yuzuha because he though it was some type of girl code or something

I’m-I’m So-sorry?” Hakkai stuttered out, trying to avoid any eye contact with you. You glared at him. “Do you have any pictures of pretty women? You’re a model so I suppose you do '' you could hear him gulp violently. Was this some type of prank or a joke? Did his sister put you up to this? He just stood there, quietly as he sweated bullets. You on the other hand kinda feel bad but the show must go on! “I-um don’t have any pictures of pretty women?” Poor baby, he almost hit himself because his statement came out more like a question. You stared at him “can I see your phone then” hakkai quickly goes to fetch it from his pocket, almost dropping it when he goes and hands it to you. “He-here but I don’t have any pictures of pretty women!” He tries to defend himself. You unlock his phone and instantly go to these photos where you random pictures but most of them are you. You huffed out and pointed at his phone “so were you calling me ugly?” “What?!? I never even mention you were ugly, not even since we meet!” “They why did you say you didn’t have any pictures of pretty ladies when you clary have hundreds of pictures of me!” Hakkai just wanted to give up on his life at some point. He leaned against his chair. “I’m sorry” he mumbled out, ignoring your stares. Now you really felt bad and got up from your chair, walked over to him and leaned down kissing his check. Nothing but a faint blue coated his pale skin. “I’m just kidding, don’t really care if you have pictures of them in your phone anyway!” You smiled and skipped away leaving a very flustered and dying Hakkai behind.

Ran haitani

Will pretend he doesn’t hear so you have to repeat it

Ran will most likely tease you about it

Will say you’re jealous when really your not

He knows you’re joking around so he goes along with it

“Hm?” You rolled your eyes, you could clearly see the sly smirk that was plastered on his face as he turned to looked down at you. “Do you have any pictures of pretty women on your phone?” He repeated. He pretended to think for a moment “why would you like to know? Hm? Would you be jealous if I said yes~?” “Um no why would?” “Then there is not reason for me to show you~” he says and walks away. You stood there thinking ‘does he actually have pictures of other women on his phone or is he just messing with me?’ It’s Ran so maybe? You followed him to the living where he sits on the couch scrolling through his phone. You fiddle with your fingers feeling a little self conscious. “Do you really have pictures of other women on your phone?” You asked he looked up you a smiles. “I’m just messing with you doll” he hands you his phone “you can see for yourself ~” and you did going through his phone, face red when you come in contact with his pictures, to be specific pictures of you in doing very erotic things and in very erotic positions that Ran only puts you in when you two are alone. You handed him back the phone as he laugh. “See, only have pictures of you~” “but there’s so…out there Ran why don’t you put them in a file or something! Aren’t you afraid someone might see them?!” He laughs again “that’s the point doll, wanna tell them you’re mine without telling them you’re mine~”

[omiscurls]

Diluc, zhongli and childe reaction to their s/o breaking up with them after something they said, maybe after a week or so after they argument they think the s/o forgave them but they break up instead? I WANT THE ANGST

consequences

plot: reader decides to break up with the character after not speaking to them

contains: diluc, zhongli, tartaglia (idk how am i going to do this to my special boy but ill try my best)

warnings: angst, breakups, implied past toxic behavior

a/n: OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO HARD- I DONT HAVE THE HEART TO BREAKUP WITH PEOPLE

diluc

hopeless thoughts ran through your head as you fought with yourself about wether to enter angel’s share or not, hand halfway through to the doorknob. your mind hadn’t been made up just yet, you were still in between two very different scenarios - the urge to forgive him for his hurtful words growing stronger each day, as anger and other emotions subdued to loneliness and the feeling of a part of you missing, ever since the two of you stopped talking.

your mind flashed back to the exact moment when you looked into diluc’s eyes, always so soft and calm for you, forming a way of anger he never expressed towards you before. to the feeling you got right then and there that this man is not the same one you’ve met and fell in love with.

the process of coming to terms with that conclusion was as painful as the first strike of his angry glare, and even though he seemed to have realized the weight of his words right after saying them out loud, no matter how hard you tried, you could not erase them from your memory.

one strike of that pain, one memory of that night was enough to make you go through with your plan, door to the bar opening with a little screech.

it was like just another late afternoon, with charles tending the bar, knights and townsfolk filling the hot room, and the smell of alcohol traveling through the air.

“hi” you said to the bartender “is master diluc around?”

charles, busy with his work, quickly replied that he’s out back, opening a barrel. you nodded and went where his directions guided, pushing open yet another door to see the back of the man you loved, looking just as always from this angle, working over said chore. he didn’t even seem to mind the fact that someone walked in on him working.

“diluc” you said with a sigh, and he almost immediately turned around, tools falling from his hands and onto the ground.

“darling, hi” he replied quietly, walking over to you but stopping half way, eyes set to analyze your expression, figure out what was going on in your mind. “i’m glad you’re here safely, i haven’t heard from you in over a week” he added cautiously, as if weighing every word before deciding to say it out loud.

“well” you sighed again, once again going over wether you should actually break things off right then, mind taking pity on his troubled expression, tired eyes, on the obvious eyebags that were much more apparent than before, a sign that he didn’t catch too much sleep. “i had to come to terms with what i’m about to say”

he wanted to tell you he was sorry, he really did, but words didn’t seem to come out of his throat. obviously he was sorry, it was a bad day and he meant none of what he said, but you knew that, right? you knew he always cared for you and loved you… right?

he wasn’t the best with words, hence, the idea of apologizing with a gesture after you were done teaching him his lesson came to mind. a brilliant idea, one could never go wrong with a thoughtful deed for their significant other, just give him one more chance.

“and my conclusion is, we need to take a step back and… reevaluate things in our lives. i’m not saying this is the ultimate end, but what you’ve said, and how you’ve said it made me realize…”

you were making a good point. you were talking about your feelings. he should listen, but the only thing he heard was the blood pumping through his veins, and the two single words

the end

so there won’t be another chance? he won’t be able to prove himself? what do you mean, the end? the best thing that ever happened to him in his sad life was coming to an end because of him? but he was so careful, he treated you like his treasure, because that’s how he truly felt, like his lifeline, something he could never lose…

and all it took was one sentence too much, one glare too intense. for the first time in what, six, maybe seven years, his eyes began to water, as he blinked the tears back at a rapid pace.

“… and that was a shitty thing to do. i hope you know that. i don’t know if i had anything else i wanted to say, perhaps i did, but… that’s all. see you around, i guess” you mumbled, loosing confidence in what you were saying, taking one last glance at his lost eyes before turning around.

turning around from him, from the love of your life, was perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to do, and yet you did do it.

before you could reach the door again, though, a cold hand caught your forearm. your eyes met his, with just a glimmer of hope that he would magically say all the right words and somehow make you stay, you didn’t want to leave, yet knew you had to. if you wanted to preserve the respect you had for yourself, you had to leave.

why were you giving him time to say something?

his helpless gaze seemed to speak with a thousand words, begging, pleading you to not leave through that door, but as much as his lips did part, not a single word left.

he couldn’t say anything to hold you back, and you ripped away from his grip, turned, and walked away.

and just like that,

he was all alone, again.

he was gonna need a drink.

zhongli

tears flooded your vision, blurring every details of zhongli’s face, causing you to only see a pale color palette, instead of your favorite person, ever. maybe it was for the best, maybe it would make it easier, you thought, but that was a foolish thing to hope for.

even through the salty tears, you could make out his eyes, it’s glow never failing to guide you, and comfort you, now seeming to burn their way through you, through your body and soul.

“you’re stuck in another love, zhongli, we both know that!” you exhaled a bit louder than you intended to, the outcome sounding more like an accusation than a fact. “how can you ever say you love me, when it’s so obvious, and so apparent, that every time you look at me, you see someone else? you HOPE for someone else?”

you could only wish the words you spoke didn’t come out as a complete mess, because of those tears you were constantly choking on. desperation seeped through your voice, as the feeling of helplessness rose every time you looked at your lover and at the anguish, and confusion he presented.

how could he make this so hard? it’s not like you’ve presented some statement he didn’t know already, right?

you hoped your eyes would say all the things you didn’t trust your voice to. you hoped he’d somehow hear how all you ever wanted was to be enough, was to meet his standard, how it tore you open that every time he said <i love you> his eyes wandered everywhere but onto yours, how all his touches seemed absent, how all his compliments were truly about some other face, some other smile, some other kind soul.

the worst part was, how could you blame him? how can anyone, ever, blame someone for being in love, of all things? love was something beautiful, and once you’ve experienced it, you’re drowned in it forever, and don’t even want to see the surface again.

love is beautiful. when you’re the one who’s receiving it. love was beautiful, to you, too, when you loved how his wisdom flew through his words, how his kindness hugged your spirit, how his aura brought you comfort. you loved his eyes, you loved his cheeks, his lips, every single detail of his skin.

the love you felt made you complete, made you warm, until you finally realize the thing you should’ve seen much sooner.

that you were merely a mirror for him to look at someone else, someone long gone.

suddenly all the warmth you felt was directed back at you, burning you inside, making you wish you never felt it in the first place.

“aren’t you gonna say something?” you whispered.

his long fingers found their way to your hand, but you snatched it away.

if you fell onto his charms now, you wouldn’t be able to get out once more.

his breath hitched as he gathered himself to speak

“i want nothing more than to love you” he said, although quietly, it rang through your ears like the loudest of screams.

you scoffed.

“we both would’ve wanted that, then”

“and i’m sure i can, if you just—“

now, laughter was all that you were capable of letting out.

“zhongli, you can’t train yourself to love someone. and even if you could, then how do you think that would make me feel? like i’m so unlovable you had to force yourself through it to grow accustomed to a feeling similar to love?”

“that’s not what i—“

“that’s what it means! let it go, please, please just… let me go” you sighed, standing up from the bench over at liyue harbor that you were sitting on. the sun has begun to set on the other side of the sea, and you couldn’t help but notice, it would’ve been the perfect date.

“i do sincerely hope you’ll find someone who’ll love you just the same” he finally stated, as he gave up on trying to make you stay.

“why?” you chuckled “so i could make them suffer the same way you made me?”

tartaglia

(archons give me strength)

you found nothing but guilt, looking into the endless ocean trapped in his eyes. for the first time in forever, they glistened, but not with a spark of joy, like you always hoped they would, they shone a sickly shine, caused by a thin layer of tears, that didn’t dear to spill over his porcelain cheeks, almost as if afraid of making contact with the ruthless face of the number eleven of the fatui harbingers.

he could’ve easily been crying if only he let himself go. he would’ve been in tears, sniffing and coughing, but he just… wasn’t. he held those tears in the gates of his eyes, as if his life depended on it.

the guilt you found inside them, wasn’t his, but yours. you felt guilty, watching this composed, confident man fall into pieces right before you, crumbling before your sight. why were you doing this? you seemed to forget all those terrible things you’ve heard just from the way his irises begged for forgiveness and brows furrowed in inexplicable sadness.

but you couldn’t, no, this time you couldn’t.

“my word” you swore on dear life you’d burst into tears if your voice shook right now “my word is final. we’re over. and that’s… that’s it. you need to understand that there won’t be another chance.”

the moment his lips parted, you knew you were lost.

“i have told you so many times already, but i will say this as much as i need to, it will never happen again! i swear, on everything i love and everything that i am, i swear on life itself, i won’t ever let that happen again! you know i won’t! come on, i promise you, if there’s anything you can say about me is i do keep my promises, don’t i? darling, please…”

“promise yourself to heal and become better, first” you stated coldly, watching faith disappearing slowly from his fixed look.

“im sorry, you know i am, im sorry, im sorry, im so fucking sorry!” a scream left his throat as desperation took over both reason and self-respect.

“sorry isn’t gonna cut it”

“then what will? i’ll do anything, anything in the world, anything to prove myself to you. i get that you can’t love me, i understand that, but please, let me win your trust again.”

he said unnaturally calmly, compared to what he did before, and you got concerned immediately.

i understand that you can’t love me, his words rang through your head. oh god, what were you doing? guilt stroke again, right at where you felt your heart to be.

right when you wanted to turn around and leave, he must’ve sensed that, and pulled you into a tight embrace. not suffocating, as they often describe it, not toxic and desperate, but… as loving as every other hug you’ve ever received from him. as calming and grounding, even though you could feel his heart racing. he didn’t refuse for you to leave, he didn’t trap you.

you understood after a while,

he was saying goodbye. all the love trapped inside his heart seeped out onto you, all his feelings surrounding and engulfing you.

“let me promise you this” he whispered, voice shaking painfully “the next time i’ll see you, i’ll be a better man. someone you will be able to be proud of, someone worthy of both your trust, and love. i won’t stop until i’ll be enough for you to look at me without the disgust and fear you have now. i promise. i’ll be better.”

“until then, then.” was the only thing you were capable of saying before leaving.

as soon as the door shut behind you, you rested against a wall and covered your mouth with a hand, unable to hold your tears any longer.

you heard a cry through the door. so he does have some feelings left, after all

your daily reminder that requests are open [here]

[aronarchy]

So far there have not been any criticisms of furiousgoldfish’s posts themselves apart from the ableism. General consensus seems to be along the lines of “her advice is (very) good, she would be a net positive if she weren’t ableist and transphobic.” A few more dedicated and detailed users might examine her other harmful radical feminist beliefs (i.e. her being extremely anti-kink), but of course no one would ever go so far as criticizing her casual stigmatization of that other group we don’t talk about which she also constantly scapegoats as inherently abusive because of course no one cares about us we’re an acceptable scapegoat (yes I am extremely salty, no that’s (hopefully) not what this post of mine is primarily about, sorry for getting off track).

One person attempted to criticize Fish’s advice as harmful because it “convinces children they’re being abused when they’re not actually being abused,” among other things. I had that individual blocked, and I won’t name them because I don’t want to get them attacked and their posts were extremely triggering, but hopefully we can all agree that they’re wrong and that’s shit reasoning.

I would, however, like to try my hand at a criticism of my own.

Of course, we know that Fish’s anti-abuse advocacy fails when considering intersectionality: what about trans/cluster B/kinky/para youth and abuse survivors, how are we to be treated? Ostracized and called monsters and sterilized, or coddled as poor helpless victims? To people like her, there are no nuances, no gray areas, no in-betweens; people are classified into either monstrous sub/inhuman perpetrators undeserving of any rights, or poor uwu little victims who could never be abusive or have traits she deems abusive themselves. When encountering someone who does not fit neatly into either category, they attempt to rewrite our narratives for us to maintain their cognitive dissonance.

But there are also some more areas in which Fish’s bigotry limits her anti-abuse advocacy. Mainly: that radical feminism and other bigoted reactionary ideologies mentioned above have a not-particularly-progressive view of civil rights; they call out problems only when they are present in individual cases without examining why they were able to happen in the first place. They assume problems with systems are mistakes, accidents, rather than signs that systems are flawed by design.

Her solution to rampant parental abuse is, simply, “get rid of all the bad parents” (whom she can magically identify by specific neurological traits). With someone like her in power, the nuclear family stays, adultist hierarchies stay--only a few demographics which are mostly victims and not abusers, and who make up a tiny percentage of real abusers, are forced to go.

There is very little examination on her end of the systemic structures which teach abusers they should abuse and allow abuse to run rampant unchecked. Like all other carceral feminists, she believes the system can be reformed and hierarchies can remain as long as the people holding the authority will Use It For Good and not abuse it, and she knows they won’t because they are an Inherently Good Person and don’t have a specific biological difference.

It’s not a coincidence that radical youthlibs tend to overlap with the pro cluster B, pro para etc communities and vice versa. Those of us who are severely hated and marginalized by all of society, including the ostensibly “progressive” groups, are far more likely to have been abused as youth and far more likely to be skeptical of liberal “reform > abolition” moderates because we have been through it all, we have tried it all and we know by now that it doesn’t. fucking. work.

Radical feminist, ableist etc beliefs rarely stand on their own. They bleed over into the “anti-abuse” advocacy you do. And until you deconstruct that you are no ally of mine and your solutions will not work and you’re just enabling more abuse. There is no true child abuse prevention without complete youth liberation and abolition of ageist hierarchies.

[obeiii-mee]

Hey! Sorry to bother you with a second ask but i thought this one would be cool. Fluffy headcanons of the demon brothers watching scary movies with MC??? Somewhere MC gets scared, and some where they don't? Thanks again!! :)

It’s no bother!! I love getting requests from you guys! The more, the merrier. I sort of hc that the brothers and MC do have movie night every week or so and with them being demons, they tend to levitate towards the horror genre. Thank you for sending this, this is really cute :)))

Without further ado—-

————————————

The Brothers watching Scary movies with MC:

Lucifer:

-Haha mf already knows how this is going to end

-He warned you, he really did

-The horror movies DevilDom has to offer are nothing, and I mean nothing, like the ones from the human world

-I’m not going to go into detail but imagine Two Girls One Cup, in a less kinky and more gorey way (then times that by 10)

-But you were adamant into giving it a go and he literally could not deny you in that moment

-Because you were giving him the puppy eyes

-That’s like, the finishing blow you use every time to get your way with him and as far as you know it’s the only one that works so-

-He expected your reaction to the last second

-You were traumatised for lack of a better word and you were basically watching the whole film through the cracks between your fingers

-Seeing you in that state was like a punch in the gut but he couldn’t stop himself from throwing in a subtle ‘I told you so’

-“I told you watching something like this before bed is a bad idea, MC.”

-He might be a bit condescending and judgemental at first, but he’s probably going to baby you a bit for the rest of the night

-Because he feels bad he allowed you to watch it in the first place

-HAHAHAHA SOFT LUCIFER HAS BEEN SUMMONED, USE HIM WISELY

-He will start muttering words of comfort to you later because he’s certain you’re going to have trouble sleeping

-Because of that one time, he’s very hesitant to let you watch another horror film anytime soon

-But he will relent eventually (especially if you want to watch a human horror film as those are technically less extreme)

-If it makes you happy, he will go through with it, even if he has to let you cling onto him for the rest of the day

-Besides, the way you cuddle into him while you’re watching a horror film is very cute and endearing to him

Mammon:

-Ah yes, the most effective method of waking up the entire House of Lamentation at 3:00 am

-Mammon screaming his own vocal cords out in his room as he tries to get through his human’s favourite horror movie without dying of a heart attack

-It was his idea because he’s definitely the type to go: “Yeah let’s do this, it will be fun. Don’t get too scared alright MC? The Great Mammon will be here to protect ya.”

-And then ten minutes in, he’s basically in your lap

-Half an hour in, he turned himself into a demon burrito with his blankets

-You were enjoying the movie, laughing at the stupid sound effects and poor quality while Mammon next to you has wrapped himself in like two dozen blankets and pillows

-“Mammon you’re going to overheat.”

-“Don’t be silly human, I’m a demon who lives in hell. I can take high temperatures the same way I can take this damn movie!”

-He doesn’t take either of them well

-Mammon and the horror genre don’t mix well together to begin with

-So even if you might enjoy horror, he doesn’t react well to it at all

-And he’ll be low-key relieved if you tell him you guys don’t have to watch any sort of horror film for your date night

-“Well I guess if you don’t want to, then we don’t have to. Can’t make my human do something they’re uncomfortable with eh?”

-But if you do watch a scary movie with him, be sure to show any sort of physical affection to him as often as possible

-You don’t have to say anything, just hold his hand or let him put his head in your lap or something

-It might stop him from screeching like a female sloth in heat

-The last time that happened, his brothers weren’t too pleased with him

-They about to recreate the horror film scenes onto him, bring the popcorn have fun

Levi:

-For some reason, I feel like he doesn’t get scared easily while watching stuff

-I mean, after decades of obsessively watching animes with brutal character deaths (like Attack on Titan style) and grotesque horror games that are pretty nasty even to demons, let alone humans;

-A horror film, from the human world or even DevilDom, doesn’t do much for him

-It will have to have very good psychological horror in it if you want the hairs on his arms to stand up in anticipation

-Tension is a big deal for him and he will immediately shut off the TV if there are any cheap jump scares

-But, if you manage to find just the right thing for him?

-You’ll both be hiding under the bed in no time under the bathtub more like

-Hell, if the film you’re watching is that good, he might even be holding onto you for dear life without realising it and getting flustered about it

-For weeks afterwards, any sound that is remotely similar to one from that movie will probably send both of you into panic

-You came to his room one night because you’ve had a nightmare about the stupid film and legitimately thought there was a fucking demon serial killer in your room

-So you wanted to stay in his

-“But what if there is a serial killer in your room and now you just led it to me MC????”

-It’s all jokes, there’s no question he would lock both of you in his room and then stay there with you wide awake until dawn

-You’re his best friend after all, he would have to be completely heartless to leave you on your own! (Besides Levi is terrifying when he wants to be)

-One time you were sleeping over and the sound of fumbling woke you tf up

-And Levi immediately turned into his demon form, like he was ready to throw hands with this fictional murderer that supposedly sneaked into his room

-“DON’T WORRY MC, I’LL PROTECT YOU!”

-“Ah never mind, it’s just Mammon breaking into your room again to steal your Ruri-Cham figurines and sell them on Akuzon.”

-“Oh OK.”

-“.....”

-“WAIT MAMMON WTF YOU FUCKING SCUMBAG, GET OUT OF MY ROOM-“

-I’m playing Minecraft

Satan:

-Believe it or not, Satan doesn’t care much about horror movies

-Don’t get me wrong, he loves watching his brothers shit their pants out of fear in the middle of one while he silently smirks to himself because watching other people suffer brings him euphoria

-Especially if someone actually manages to find a film that is excellent enough to spook Lucifer, because then he will be cackLING

-But, overall, he watches a lot of shows revolved around drama and crime

-That’s his thing

-However, he won’t turn you down if you’re up to watching a scary movie with him

-Any time spent with you is valuable time seeing as it won’t be long before his brothers start hogging you again like the cockblockers they are

-He is honestly surprised to find out you seem to be rather amused by those sort of movies

-So, even if it’s not inherently something he does on the regular, he would definitely watch a scary film with you if you enjoy them that much

-But in exchange, he makes you promise to read with him until bedtime rolls around (imagine Lucifer having a fucking curfew for his brothers and you lmao)

-So for the rest of night you guys just read together, ya know, like sappy romantics

-Tbh, this man will do almost anything with you as long as both of you are having fun

-He knows it’s not likely, but he insists on sleeping in the same room that night just in case you have nightmares and he needs to comfort you

- :)

-Satan is a gentleman. Idk how many people that don’t play OM expected to hear this

Asmo:

-Why would you want to watch a movie when you could be watching him???

-I mean, you would rather watch all that gory stuff on the TV than his beautiful face?

-He may get salty over a fucking movie tbh

-Horror films aren’t something he generally looks for while trying to pick a movie to watch

-He can definitely handle them better than Mammon but it’s not something he takes great pleasure in watching

-But the first time he ever sits down with you to watch one, he’s very intrigued to see your reactions

-You started feeling the sensation of absolute dread creep in at the very beginning and you were trying your best to act like you weren’t getting affected by what you saw on the screen

-But you were

-You went from “I’m grown ass adult, I can watch a fucking horror movie, no problem.”

-To “Welp, not enough of a grown ass adult for this-“

-And Asmo thought the way you tried to hide your nervousness was very mesmerising in a way

-He was planning on flirting with you during the movie anyway, but now that you were pressing himself against him?

-Oh boy, Oh boy

-“Darling if you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just said so. Making the excuse of watching a movie is unnecessary.”

-Nightmares? What nightmares? You won’t have time to have nightmares ;)

-haHAHA funny inappropriate joke

-It’s Asmo, it’s mandatory to have at least one of those added in here

Beel:

-Beel will show up if there’s food and that’s that

-He doesn’t care what type of movie is playing on the TV as long as he has a bucket of popcorn next to him at all times

-Horror films aren’t something he can’t handle, he’s a demon like the rest of his brothers and he is used to...violent deaths and such

-He doesn’t get scared but there are times where he gets attached to the characters

-Especially movies with actual good and not cringeworthy dialogue

-Therefore, when they die, he gets sad even if they’re just fictional and their death had no real impact

-He also thinks that the way you can watch these things without flinching is impressive

-I mean, he can watch it and so can his brothers because they are demons

-They’ve done worse things than the things you see in horror films

-But you’re a human! So it’s weird to see you watch a person get repeatedly slammed against a wall until their neck snaps without batting an eyelid

-Overall, he does not have an opinion on scary movies

-He gets a bit emotional when a character he really liked dies

-But other than that, he’s just focused on eating

-And occasionally patting your head affectionately

Belphie:

-He doesn’t really like horror films because there’s a lot of screaming and tense music and he’s just trying to nap in your lap (rhyme)

-He doesn’t really need sound effects like that in the background while he’s trying to sleep

-But one day he was like “Hey, what if I show my favourite human this particular scary film?”

-And he did

-And he’s internally dying and feeling guilty and yet so flustered because of you

-It’s like you suddenly turn into this very fidgety and anxious mess and he thinks you just look....cute

-At some point you were getting overwhelmed and sprung up on your feet to turn the lights on

-And he just grabbbed your wrists, pulled you down next to him and let you press your head against his chest

-As mentioned, he’s a little shit and will tease you for being such a scaredy cat

-“That was the most predictable jumpscare and you still flinched, wth is wrong with you lmao.”

-But at the same time....

-“Relax. It’s just a horror movie. You’ll be fine. Besides, I’m here. Like I would let something bad happen to you.”

-That’s sweet, even if the tone of voice may not imply it because he’s such a brat-

-He actually really likes holding you for once, because usually he’s the little spoon

-He’s still a bit of a sadist so I imagine him sitting there and watching this while giggling to himself

-Isn’t he the cutest, laughing at other people’s misery and their never ending suffering?🥺🥺🥺 UwU

-Ah well, at least he has the decency to spoil with affection afterwards and make sure you have no nightmares that night

-You know, as payback for the horrific shit he made you watch with no warning

————————————

OK, I think I made a decent job of this even though it took longer than it actually was meant to. Thank you for reading though. I’ve got so many requests to go through and I’ve been feeling motivated lately so yeah!

See you soon

Al~

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt17

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

“I’m sorry, what?” Marinette tried not to laugh at Bruce but it was actually funny to see some of her own idiosyncrasies mirrored in him.

“It’s a rather long story. Why don’t we sit?” She led Cass over to the couch to sit, not letting go of her. Now that they were together she was going to make sure her twin got the affection she deserved. Bruce sat on a chair across from them still looking like he was waiting for an attack.

“What was that comment about a magic wielding narcissist about?” Marinette sighed. She really hated explaining this.

“I won’t go into details because until you’ve been through an attack it won’t seem real anyway. Short version is Paris is being held hostage by a man with a magical artifact and a god complex. I’m one of the people trying to stop him.” Bruce just blinked at her for a moment and she could almost see him trying to gather his thoughts.

“And the comment about Cass being your Black Cat? What did that mean?” He sounded so tired. She could commiserate.

“I really am sorry to just drag you into this and I wouldn’t have if I didn’t believe it was absolutely necessary.” Cass actually hugged her without prompting that time and even Bruce’s expression softened. “The artifacts we use are called the Miraculous. They’re all about balance. I wield the Ladybug Miraculous of Creation, it’s opposite is the Black Cat Miraculous of Destruction. While I had a partner that used that Miraculous he was nowhere near as in tune with it as I am with mine and it creates a power imbalance that isn’t sustainable. As soon as I found out about Cass, I was certain she was my other half. The person actually meant to be my partner. If you’re willing of course.”

“Not leaving you alone.” Marinette smiled fondly at her little sister.

“You may very well want to rethink that position once you meet Plagg.” They both looked at her in confusion and jumped when a new voice broke in.

“I’ll have you know I’m a delight to be around. You just don’t appreciate my personality.” She rolled her eyes at the Kwami floating in front of her.

“Yes, obviously I’m the problem.” They were about to snark back at her when Bruce spoke up.

“What is that?” Plagg opened their mouth to answer but Marinette beat him to it. The last thing she needed was him going off on a tangent about how wonderful he was.

“This is Plagg, Kwami of Destruction and Bad Luck. They are what gives the Black Cat Miraculous it’s powers.” Bruce was eyeing the creature warily but Plagg was busy studying Cass. After a minute their expression softened.

“Yeah, she’s definitely one of mine.” Then they just burrowed into Cass’s hair and started purring.

“Her life is not your fault Plagg. And you said you could protect her from the worst of her innate bad luck now right?” They just nodded. Marinette wasn’t sure what to make of this attitude if she was being honest.

“Plagg’s a big softy when it comes to their Chosen. Especially when they’ve been so badly mistreated.” Tikki made their entrance and Cass was watching them with interest. Bruce looked like he was fighting off a migraine.

“And this is Tikki, Kwami of Creation and Good Luck. They are what power the Ladybug Miraculous.”

“It’s very nice to meet you both, even if it’s a bit of an adjustment. I can help you get rid of that headache if you want.” Bruce actually flinched at the offer and Marinette struggled not to laugh. Tikki actually rolled their eyes.

“Like father, like daughter.”

“Hey! That’s not fair. I didn’t have anything against magic itself. I just thought I was a terrible choice for a hero is all.”

“You called me a talking bug-mouse.” Tikki’s drool tone matched their glare.

“I opened a box and you popped out. How was I supposed to react?” Tikki held the glare for a few more seconds before they both dissolved into laughter. It was a running joke between them especially since her parents found out. Her Papa had broken a chair trying to jump away and her Maman had tried to hit Tikki with a rolling pin. Luckily the Kwami had seen it coming in time to phase through it rather than being smacked into a wall.

“And the Lazarus Pits?” He really didn’t sound like he wanted to know.

“Plagg caused the extinction of the dinosaurs. The Pits wouldn’t even be a challenge. Tikki also thinks I’m capable of returning them to their natural state without them, but that’s only theoretical at this point.” Tikki and Wayzz had both tried to explain the process but it was incredibly complicated.

“Natural state?” The question came from Cass and Plagg decided to speak again.

“The Pits were made from hot springs that were believed to have healing powers. The people who made them were trying to enhance that but did not understand the powers they were using. All magic comes with a price.”

AO3   Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

@moonystars14 @ladybug-182 @elmokingkong @smolplantmum @jessigurl-design @trippingovermyfeet @its-salty-bug @whydoexamsexist @scorchdragon88 @alenee13 @lil-1254s-blog @sturchling @random-fandoms7 @fandom-writer642 @chylou34 @thewitchwhowaited @junarvion @laurcad123 @hakoirii @aestheticnpoetic @aegyobutpsycho2 @sassakitty @swiftie-miraculer13 @miraculous-simmer7 @peachedpocky @misslenamooney @shamefullove @user00000003 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @galla02006 @thestressmademedoit @toodaloo-kangaroo @trinity-1002107 @alessialeone6997 @i-shizen @necromancerflight @astoriaandromeda @devils-wrath

[parkers-gal]

you dont have to write this if youre not comfortable doing it, but could you do something where the reader is toms girlfriend and is diagonsed with a brain tumor and starts forgetting things, like she suddenly cant remember his family anymore or that toms spider-man?

wc: 1.4k words - please READ WITH CAUTION. it's heavy tw // brain tumors, diseases, MRI's, crying, angst

requests are open

—

“And I’m telling you there’s something obviously wrong with her.” Tom was just on the edge of yelling at the doctor. You were sitting on the medical bed in the lonesome room.

One month of Tom being home was enough time for him to realize you were not the same person you were when he left for filming. You were quiet, more conserved, and a bit more curious than you normally were. But not in the sense that you were inquisitive about new things. No, you were forgetting what you already knew to be true.

“Sir, we just asked her a series of questions and she’s showing no signs of change.”

“Then that’s not enough, goddammit!” His fist slams down on the counter, startling everyone in the room.

“Please refrain from raising your voice, sir.”

“I won’t refrain from doing anything until you keep running more tests. Try- try something different if you’re not getting anywhere with these ones!”

The man, his tag reading Dr. Goldstein, offered a tense smile. He whispered something to Tom, something out of your earshot, and he nodded.

“I’ll be right back, okay baby?” He leaned close to your ear, leaving a gentle kiss under the lobe while you nodded. His fingers slipped from yours and suddenly you were alone in the room.

Goldstein brought Tom into a separate medical room, and Tom sat in one of the chairs provided while the doctor logged himself into the company database.

“Can you explain what you’ve been noticing? Your reason for being here?”

“She’s having a lot of headaches.” The doctor hummed, a sign for Tom to elaborate. He did. “She- she told me to bring home extra medicine but the headaches got so bad she had to call in sick for work. About three days later she was throwing up frequently. We took her to the local doctor but they said it was a stomach bug and it would go away.”

“And it didn’t?” Tom shook his head. “Is that all? Has she had any seizures?”

“No.”

“Does anyone in her family have a history of having seizures?”

“Not that I know of.” Goldstein looked at Tom through the tops of his glasses, eyebrows raised as he wrote all the information down.

“Has she had any memory loss, fatigue or sleeping problems?”

“Yeah, sleeping problems were big with the headaches. She- uh… she’s been forgetting things a lot easier now, too.”

“Do you know any of the things she’s forgotten? Anything major, that is.”

Tom scratched the back of his neck in thought. “I mean… she forgot her phone password once. A few hair appointments maybe, or a dinner reservation. I think the big one was when she forgot how to drive.”

“She forgot how to drive?”

“Not entirely, just a couple steps.”

The doctor clicked his tongue. It wasn’t calming Tom’s nerves. You, however, were swinging your legs back and forth as you waited patiently for someone to return. A nurse had come in to give you some water, which you gratefully accepted. You weren’t sure what was taking so long for Tom to get back; you were the one sick, afterall.

“We’ll have to run a few tests just to confirm anything, first. Can you make an appointment with the front desk?”

Tom nods, standing as the man leads him out of this room and into the one with you.

“Hey,” He breathes out. “You okay?” You nod, he hums with a small smile.

“Everything okay?” He nods.

“We’ll have to come back, though.” You frown but nod nonetheless.

**

Medical dresses reminded you of movies that would leave you crying for a happier ending. You felt like you were the movie, a camera in your face while family members cried because of the news.

You had just gotten an MRI-scan. Magnetic resonance imaging, as the doctor had put it. They explained everything to you in such detail that the information had flown right over your head. You drowned everything out, the only thing keeping you grounded being Tom and his voice.

You were still wearing the dress as the doctor came back in forty minutes later with his head hung low and your verdict on the slip of paper.

“Well?” Tom’s voice was eager, and not in a positive way. His hand was holding yours tightly as his nerves rose to an all time high.

Dr. Goldstein sighed as he sat in his rolling chair. “It’s called neurofibromatosis. It’s a tumor located in the prefrontal lobe. It’s a hereditary disease that can last a lifetime.” Tom physically deflates at the news. A tear slips from your eyes, but the doctor keeps going. “Though we just performed the biopsy, we can already tell it’s spread to the temporal lobe. We can predict it’s probably going to affect your spinal cord and your central nervous system.”

“Can… can it be cured?” Tom was so hesitant, so afraid he’d lose the one stable thing in his life. He was afraid of losing you, watching you slip through his fingers while he tried to hold on, grasp as much of you as he could. What he didn’t want to admit, though, was that you were already slipping, and his hands were already losing grip.

“No. But treatment can help prevent the spread.”

“Am I going to die?” Your shrill, quiet voice cuts the tension, asking the question everybody was afraid to know the answer to.

“The average life expectancy of a patient with your tumor is eight years.” He clicks his tongue and Tom scoffs.

“Eight years? Of what, chemo?”

“Sir, there’s no way to tell if it’s permanent or not. If the treatment goes well, it could die out without killing her. You’re lucky you’re still in the early stages.”

The drive home was quiet. You weren’t reacting the way Tom wanted you to. You were acting normal, and it killed him inside that you weren’t batting an eye or pointing out the elephant in the room.

“Can we go bowling tomorrow?”

“I have work tomorrow.” Tom sighs as he grips the steering wheel harder.

“Work…?” You look at him expectantly. He blinks

“We’re filming Spider-man 3 for the next five months.” He tells you almost irritatingly, as if he expects you to know his schedule better than himself. And you do. But not anymore.

“You’re an actor?”

When he pulls up to the driveway, he parks the car and looks at you strangely, as if a piece of his soul just washed away, lost to never be found again. He looks as if he’s about to cry.

“Sorry if you don’t like talking about work,” You say it defensively. “I just didn’t know you were an actor.”

“Love….” He sits back defeatedly, shoulders sagging. “Maybe Harry can take you bowling tomorrow instead. I need to talk to Jon about something.”

“Harry…?” You trail off as if he’ll fill in the blank to who this person is. Before he opens the car door, he stops to look at you again.

“My brother?” He’s soft as he tries to see if you’ll remember him. You don’t. “You don’t remember my brothers?”

“You have multiple?” The two of you step out of the car as you head inside.

“I have three.”

“I wish I knew them all.” Tom chokes on air.

“Y/N, you do know them.”

You watch as Tom’s figure nearly deflates again, and you pout. “I’m sorry.” He turns around hastily.

“For what?”

“I just… it feels like I’m not trying hard enough.”

“Baby… ” He pulls you into his chest as you gasp out a cry, sucking in a breath as new tears fall. Tom cries too, gripping you tightly as the salty waters flow out of the rivers, breaking the dams and flooding all around it.

“I’m so-” You whisper out between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” He’s trying not to cry too loudly, too harshly. “‘S Not your fault.”

He feels you nod against him, and for the first time in weeks, he feels as if he finally has a grip on you again, as if he can pull you out of the drowning waters, let you come up for air before another wave crashes over your helpless body. For the first time in weeks, he feels like you might actually be his Y/N again. But you’re not, because as soon as you’re in his grip, he loses you again.

He just doesn’t want to see what happens when he loses his grip for good.

hello here’s part two <3

[buckysgoldenheart]

Trust Me

Henry Cavill x reader

Summary: You’ve gone back to the same manipulate ex enough times that you’ve lost count, but Henry decides he won’t let you do it again.

Words: 1673

Notes/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, sexual tension (sort of), mention of manipulative relationships (but doesn’t go into detail), cursing.

Sacrificing yourself for someone who does not deserve it, throwing yourself on a wooden spike for them, despite how it may sound, is the easiest thing in the world, and when you fail to see the damage it inflicts because your denial is just that strong, you can die one hundred times over and not even notice.

But your denial has gradually weakened. You have started to notice that maybe you’ve killed yourself too many times for someone who does not deserve your love. Though newfound awareness does not erase the poor choices or the pain, and certainly not the fear of dragging that pain with you wherever you go.

“Sweetheart,” Henry says as he kneels in front of where you’re sitting on the couch, both of your hands gripped tightly in his. “You’ve got to stop.”

You can see him. You can see his worried lips, and his concerned, blue gaze, and his dark eyebrows pinched at the middle, and yet, you’re not positive he is with you. He is touching you and still, you’re praying he’s not a hallucination, because he feels very real and you like it just a little too much. You’ve always liked it just a little too much.

But then you remember the way Henry’s smile slipped the second you opened the door, and it provides sudden reassurance that he is really, solidly in front of you. As he had scanned your body up and down, his own not even past the threshold yet, the expression on his face couldn’t seem to decide between devastation or absolute outrage, and you hadn’t even said a word. That was all you needed to understand that you look as terrible as you feel. Not because of the man you happily gave up, but because of the aching anxiety he left lingering around you long after he was gone. Now, here you are, here Henry is, and you don’t want to dump those damaged feelings on him when he is the last to deserve it.

He touches your cheek, and the sensation of rough fingertips grazing along your skin tugs at the strands of your attention.

“All he ever does is break you, but you can’t keep breaking, Love. I can’t stand it any longer. I won’t let you go back to him ever again.”

You want to tell him not to worry, that you won’t go back, that you’ve finally learned from your mistakes, but you figure it changes nothing. Crumbled, broken, ripped apart one time or a hundred, it makes no difference. No matter how many times you fix yourself, you’ll never be enough. Even if repaired, a thing that has been shattered to bits retains little of its original value, does it not?

“You’re worth so much, and you deserve better than him. You deserve to be loved and taken care of.”

Holding your tongue is not easy. You itch to disagree, but it will only serve to intensify his argument. He’s said it all before, and when he saw you and realized that while he’d been away, you spent those months being manipulated by your ex for the umpteenth time, you were well prepared for him to say it again.

“Fuck,” Henry says. “I wish you’d just let me do it.”

Your eyes focus a little harder on his and you swallow.

“You know how much I want to,” He continues as he tucks a strand of messy hair behind your ear. “You’re not going to drag me down like you think you will, Sweetheart. I know that’s what keeps you from saying yes, but I promise you, the worst you could do is make me deliriously happy.”

“You don’t know that,” You finally speak, your voice hoarse as it passes through your dry, cracked lips.

Something like relief flashes in Henry’s eyes at your break in silence. “Yes, I do,” He says determinedly. “And I won’t drag you down, either. More than that, I won’t hurt you.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Have I ever hurt you?” He asks.

You don’t even have to think on it. He hadn’t. Not in all the years of your friendship had he done anything other than brighten your mood, but good people do painful things every day. If others have to suffer at the hands of those they love most, what hope might you both have of escaping the same fate if things evolved past platonic.

Your thoughts begin drifting to a darker place, but they are sharply yanked back to the surface when Henry leans up and softly presses his lips to your own. You still completely as a large hand shifts to the back of your neck and holds you close. And damn it, this is exactly what you were trying to avoid. You’ve always known that if he ever kissed you, that would be it. Game over. Now he has, and the longer your lips remain weaved with his, the harder it becomes to remember the reasons why you’ve never given yourself to him before. He has always wanted you; He made that abundantly clear. You are the one who has held back.

He pulls away before you begin to react to his kiss, then gives you one last peck and meets your eyes as they slowly open.

“I’m sorry,” He says, and your eyebrows rise slightly before settling back into neutrality. “I shouldn’t have—that wasn’t fair of me.”

Your gaze follows his body as he moves to sit beside you on the couch. He runs a hand through his hair before he covers his face with them both, braces his elbows on his knees, and groans into the cave of his palms.

You want to get closer to him, but he’s speaking again, and it makes you pause. “Oh, God, that was so selfish,” He says, more to himself than to you. “You’re going through shit, and I just--

He raises his head to look at you when your touch reaches his bicep, but then you push him down against the back of the couch and swing a leg over his thighs to straddle him.

He looks hesitant; his eyes wide, seemingly unconvinced your body is on top of his despite the friction of your hips or the way you cautiously trace the curve of his neck with your nails. His hands rise and his fingers twitch, and you know he wants to touch you, but won’t until you clearly show him that you want it too. So when you lean down and kiss him, he wastes no time firmly encasing you in his arms, moaning so deep you feel the vibration against your breasts.

Henry is different. His kisses follow your lead even when it’s obvious he wants to dominate you, make you his completely. His touch shows a respect you’ve never had the luxury of experiencing. There’s no room for anything between you. You’re connected; holding and feeling and seeing one another without restraint, with chests cracked open and hearts bare.

But then, what are hearts other than big, red, pumping targets practically calling for a sharp dagger to pierce their center. A tear slips down your cheek and you quickly separate your lips to wipe it away before Henry can see, but he beats you to it. His thumb slides along your cheekbone, smoothing the salty liquid into your skin.

“I…Henry, I don’t want to lose you,” You near whisper, sniffling. “If we hurt each other—"

“Sweetheart.” Henry trails an affectionate hand over your shoulder and down your arm, settling finally on your thigh. His fingers squeeze your flesh. “We won’t.”

You seal your eyelids and more tears fall that Henry gets rid of.

“You think us together would be a risk, but it’s not. It’s a sure thing, Love. As long as you want me, I will forever want you, and nothing can change that. You could scream at me until your lungs collapse, and I would still be in love with you.”

“I would never scream at you,” You mumble, bypassing his confession of love and trying your best to ignore the way every flowing, beating, humming part of your body freezes entirely.

“No,” He chuckles. “You wouldn’t. You would never yell or slap at me or say anything to break my heart. You don’t have a cruel bone in your beautiful body, so why do you assume we will be destructive to one another?” Henry’s thumb and index finger grip your chin and lift until your eyes can only meet his. “I am so in love with you, Y/N.”

“You keep saying that,” You mutter.

“Because it’s the truth.” He smiles. “God damn, is it the truth. You have no idea.”

You shift your hips and Henry lightly groans, his arm wrapping around you tighter. You blush when you realize what you’ve done.

With a smile, he pecks your lips to chase away the shy, guilty look on your face. “Just try this with me,” He says and gives you another quick kiss. “Trust me. I’ll take care of you. Be with me and I will prove it to you. I’ll prove how much I love you.”

You take in a shaky breath as he puts his palms to your cheeks and tilts your head until your foreheads meet. Your heart beats hard. Hard enough that you’re surprised each thump isn’t visibly pushing the left side of your chest outward. Your body has never worked this hard to prove a point to your brain. It tells you, you want this and it won’t let you convince yourself otherwise.

Pulling back, you smile down at him and run a finger over his bottom lip. “I trust you,” You say.

“So…”

“So…let’s try.”

tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat​ @anise-d-castle6​ @projectxhappiness​ @notmyfault404​ @jjamesbbarness​ @guera31​ @sophiatomlinson23​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @hiddles-rose​ @mywinterwolf​ @picapicapicassobaby​ @genius2050​ @lokilvrr​ @sunshine-seven @missjayi @agniavateira​ @tumblnewby @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​

[mandoalorian]

Scars [Max Lord x gn!Reader]

Summary: Maxwell Lord is entrapped and scarred by the Lasso of Hestia, and he requests your care to help him heal.

Rating: PG-13 // unprompted angst (I am so sorry.)

Warnings: Details of injury/scars, details of Max’s declining health/illness.

Word count: 1300

Author’s Note: There are depictions in the comic books where Diana’s lasso of truth actually scars it’s victims. We all have scars and marks that we wish weren’t there, but I think it’s important to embrace them and learn to love them. So here is something short and sweet for those who share a similar insecurity.

Masterlist

The second you and Maxwell enter Marine One, he closes all curtains aboard and discards his grey, pinstripe suit jacket. He tugs on his tie, and you see that he’s struggling to take it off. His motions are rough and aggressive and for a split second, you’re afraid he might choke himself. You approach him and gently take his shaky hands. They’re cold, like blocks of ice and you let go of them so they fall by his side. You bring your fingers up to his patterned blue tie and unravel the knot in it. Maxwell’s nose is scrunched up and he’s groaning, rubbing his chest and the side of his torso. It’s like he’s in pain.

“Can you help me take this off?” He asks you, and he’s grabbing at his white shirt like it’s suffocating him. You nod and start with pulling down his black and blue zig-zag suspenders so they drop by his legs. When you unbutton his shirt, you start at his collar and work your way down. Once it’s off and discarded onto the floor, Max breathes a sigh of relief. He’s grateful for the cool air hitting his skin.

He looks down at his body and his expression doesn’t change. In a sense, he expected it. He forgets that you’re with him, standing before him and looking upon his form feeling nothing but fear and concern.

On the exterior, Max Lord has always been confident. He walks around D.C. like he owns the entire city, in his perfectly pressed power suits and designer shoes. He constantly flaunts his power and wealth with every given opportunity. So to see him like this, washed with insecurity over his body image, was unexpected to say the least.

Maxwell watches your expression intently as you take in the sight of his scarred torso, and he swallows a knot in his throat. It was a knot that he didn’t realise he’d been holding back. He desperately searches your face for clues, trying his hardest to figure out what exactly you’re thinking about when you look at him. He prays silently that you aren’t as disgusted as he is. He feels his cheeks flush with warmth and he hopes he doesn’t look as flustered as he imagines. But his embarrassment isn’t lost on you. Your soft lips part and you extend your arm.

“May I?” you request, reaching out, your fingers hovering just above his ribcage. Maxwell silently nods and you gently trace the dark pink lines that mark there. The scars are risen slightly, and radiate heat. You can tell that they’re recent, although Maxwell won’t exactly explain what went on in The White House. You know better than to keep pushing him for answers. “They feel like burns,” you acknowledge, taking your hand away from his skin and biting your fingernails as you ponder. The lines look angry and there are so many of them. “Does it hurt when I touch?”

“No.” he grits out, and your heart breaks for him. You know he’s trying to stay strong for you.

“I-- I’m not really sure how to help,” you confess with a frown, and finally bring your gaze to meet his dark honeyed eyes. For the first time ever, you see a side to Maxwell that you have never seen before. He looks afraid. “Maybe you should go home and rest.” you propose, but already regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You know that it’s a silly suggestion and you know that Maxwell will just dismiss your comment like all the other times you’ve requested that he goes home. All the wish-granting has left him with shaky hands and blood shot eyes. His skin is pale and he looks tired; distinctly more tired than usual.

You’re in the air now, flying out to some place you don’t even know. Maxwell won’t tell you where he’s taking you. You want to trust him, but after all of this, it’s difficult. You get the feeling that he’s not thinking straight, and that his motive has been completely corrupted by this newfound power he has gained. You’re frightened for him. He doesn’t listen to you the way he used to and it feels like he doesn’t value your advice.

You’re afraid he doesn’t love you anymore.

And he’s afraid you won’t love him after this.

“Do you hate it?” Max asks, breaking the silence. The question comes as a shock and it snaps you out of your thoughts. It was an unusual question, especially coming from a man like Maxwell.

“What?” you counter, your eyes searching to meet his gaze, but he’s so self-conscious, he can’t even bring himself to look at you. “I-- no Max, of course I don’t hate it.”

Max swallows again. “I don’t think it’ll ever heal, or at least not completely.”

“If you come home now, we can see a doctor. But the longer you wait… the worse it might be,” you explain. “Although, no matter what you decide, I won’t leave you. Not now, not ever. And especially not because of some scars.”

“You know I can’t just come home,” Maxwell whispers. At this point, he feels like he’s forcing himself to complete the mission he’s set himself. He’s forgotten what really matters. However, he does miss the comfort of his bed and the warmth of your body when you wrap your arms and legs around him like a koala bear hugs a tree. “I have to finish what I started…” Maxwell pauses to cup your face, his thumb brushing the height of your cheekbone. You find yourself subconsciously leaning into his touch and you close your eyes as he admires your beauty.

You miss him. You want him to come home. You worry things might never be the same as they once were.

He won’t tell you his plans because he knows you’ll never approve. Max tells himself he’s doing this for the greater good. He wants to help those less fortunate. Just one wish could change so many lives. He could change lives.

But you won’t give up on him.

You choke back tears. He’s shutting you out, and you’re scared. His health is rapidly declining, that much is clear. He can barely walk. He’s wheezing every few minutes and you try your hardest not to think about the black veins that travel up his arm and neck.

He’s dying.

And there’s nothing you can do about it.

It’s a hard pill to swallow, and you can only hope that there is some higher power looking out for him. Someone out there who will help him see the truth.

You sniff and let yourself fall limp into his chest. On impulse, he wraps his arms tight around you and presses a chaste kiss onto the top of your head. 

“I just wish that you’d learn to love yourself.” you whimper, your salty tears dampening his bare skin.

A gust of wind breezes through your hair and Maxwell’s nose bleeds onto your shoulder. In that moment, Max swears that he will never let you go.

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal  @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos​ @rocketqueen  @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @ladyjenny19 @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans

[sunatooru]

Hii, im sorry for bringing down the mood but can i rq an emergency ask? My mom always guilt tripping everyone who go against her. If anyone feels sad and cried about it, she'll either angry, spewing about 'kids were born to please and make parents happy' at us or pulling "it's because i love you and i care for you." Card then playing victim. Obviously it's wont always work, so when those 2 options didnt work. she'll give silent treatment for who knows how long.

What if ushijima found his s/o crying in the last week before holidays where all student went home to their own house (shiratorizawa seems like a boarding school based on season 4) because she didnt want to go home and deal with her mother. So he take her away and comfort her? at this point i dont even mad if he kidnap me lol

I'm sorry if this is too detailed

Hii, please no mood was brought down (imo). I detest parents like that, like am I the child or you??? Anyways, thank you for requesting and I hope this helps in some way. Sending you hugs xx

~

Did I perhaps self project? Maybe

Warnings: gaslighting mother, breakdown crying and feeling distraught 

~

Ushijima

He hadn’t sent you off for the holidays and weren’t sure why. Had you left already? Did you not want to see him before leaving? Were you in a rush? All those questions troubled his mind, so he decided to check your dorm.

He walks along the hall, thankful he was allowed to pass. The corridor was dark, only a small ray of light making it easy for him to make his way. He almost smiles when he realises it’s the light coming from your room, shoulders relaxing knowing you had not left yet. But all that tension returned as he saw you sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around yourself protectively as you weeped.

He slowly makes his way inside your room, he looks around and sees some clothes thrown in the corner, your phone screen lighting up with every new notification. He couldn’t understand what was wrong.

You feel his presence and lock your eyes with his. His heart clenched at the hurt in your eyes, the slight redness around your pupils showed that whatever happened was not good.

He carefully approaches you, awkwardly sitting next to you, not knowing what to say yet so he kisses your forehand.

“You can tell me what’s wrong.” He states, the deep tone of his voice somewhat softer, a deliberate change to calm you.

It makes you jump into his arms and they welcome you. He wraps them around your shaking body. Large hand gently patting your hair, heart pounding at the pain in your cries.

“She’s just too much. It’s like I can’t do anything right. Ushi...Why does she always have to fight and taunt and make me feel like it’s my fault?!” You burst out.

He might not understand but he listens. He nods at your words, humming in appreciation that you’re sharing.

“Can you tell me.. who?” He hesitates a bit but asks.

“My mother...I- she asked why I decide not to go home. She said how I’m upsetting her by choosing not to come home...”

You hiccup, fresh tears pouring as you finally speak about the feelings you’ve pent up.

“... and I can’t even tell her it’s because of her. Because of how she makes me feel because then she’ll just blame me again. It’s so hot and cold, she claims is her love language and that it’s for my better good. But how is it good if I feel like this? I can’t go home Ushijima...I can’t...” you trail and now he’s fully away of the situation.

He cups your jaw and wipes your tears away with his thumbs. He kisses your forehead, lips ghosting over your nose and reaches your lips. He rubs your neck softly as he kisses you, the saltiness of your tears mixing. He pulls away and frown.

“Come with me.” He demands.

“I understand you don’t want to go home and that you don’t have a strong relationship with your mother, so let me take you to my home instead? Or we can stay here together?” He suggests, cleaning your tear stains.

“I’m here for you. I may not be able to sort all your problems but I won’t let you burden them alone. It’s not good for you and I can’t have you feeling like this. Thank you for telling me. Remember, I love you and will always try to protect you.” He confesses.

He moves around and stands up, pulling you lightly onto your feet. He hold your hand and leads you out the room. You stare at your hand in his as he walks. You finally look up when crisp air hits you.

He’s brought you to the flower patch in the school yard. The soft colours of the petals illuminating under the shy moon. He seats you at the near bench, letting you rest your head on his shoulder and warm your hands with his.

“I thought you might like some air.,” he’s a little nervous, he didn’t mean to remove you from the comfort of your room but he knew how much a breather could help.

“Thank you” you whisper, getting closer to him that he puts his arm around your shoulder, not before shrugging off his school jacket to cover you.

“It’s okay, and please know I’m honest about taking you with me. If that’s what you want.”

And you agree. The next day you pack and join him on his way home. A single message sent to your mother, ignoring anything else except the time with your boyfriend.

[songbirdsingingthings]

Daisies - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

I should really be going to bed rn but instead I had an idea while listening to some music and got really in my feels SO HERE IT IS <3

Warnings: Angst ending in fluff You could see it in the way that he carried himself. Shouto was nowhere near who he used to be when you first started dating. You missed the stolen glances the two of you shared, the red that took up residence on his cheeks whenever you came into the room, and the subtle touch he gave your hand which indicated that he wanted to hold it in his. You remembered when he would do anything in his power to get home to your shared apartment so that you could have dinner together and maybe watch a movie. Now when he got home, if he came home at all, it would be way past dinner and bordering on the next day. You used to stay up for him, waiting to put his meal you had prepared in the microwave so it could be warm by the time you helped him put away his coat and work bag when he came home from the agency. At first, you believed that it would only be a couple days of this, but those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into 3 months. You stopped staying up almost 3 days ago.

Currently, you were on the phone with your mother who was begging you for more details on your two year relationship.

“I know you know this, but your father proposed to me after two years of dating, about as long as you and your boyfriend have been dating,” she said, making you swallow a lump that was lodged in your throat. 

“You’re right Mom, I do know this. You tell me every chance you get,” you say in a joking voice with your voice as blank as a slate. You loved your mother, you really did. However, recently, she felt the need to hint at a proposal that you knew was not coming soon, if at all. For the duration, the two of you had never talked about marriage or if you thought about wanting to get married.

“I’m just saying, you would look beautiful in a white dress with a bouquet of daisies walking down the aisle. Where is Shouto? I haven’t been able to reach him in a while, can you put him on the phone for me?” At her words, you rub your eyes with your right hand and will yourself not to cry. You’ve already cried enough these past two weeks.

“U-um,” you begin, your voice wavering, “he’s n-not home. Probably won’t be for a while.”

“...Honey, is something the matter?” She asks, concern laced in her voice. It’s the soft comfort in her voice that makes you break. You sob into the phone, letting your tears run down your face.

“M-mom I’m so scared,” you say, crying through your words. “I-I don’t think he loves me anymore.” You feel your body shake from your weeping, now holding onto the edge of the kitchen counter for support. 

“Oh, Y/N...” your mother says, her voice quiet.

“He hasn’t come home for days and when he does come home, I feel like we’re strangers. I haven’t been able to talk to him and see what’s actually going in his life in so long that now our conversations are one of us commenting on the weather. THE WEATHER!” You scream into the phone as you walk over to your couch and collapse onto it. Your mother stays quiet as you vent, and boy, do you vent. On how Shouto’s given you the excuse of ‘work’ when you know for a fact that your friend Ochaco’s husband, Midoriya, worked at the same level that Shouto did and he came home at 7:30 sharp every night, and she lived ten minutes farther away from the agency than you did. How he hasn’t made an effort to try and take you on a date in months. How he’s stopped doing anything to make you feel like you were in a relationship.

“Y/N, you know what you have to do.” Your mother says, her voice serious.

“If you’re implying that I should break up with him-”

“No honey. You need to talk to him, and not about the weather. You need to tell him what you just told me and how much his actions have been hurting you. And, if he doesn’t see the fault in his actions, that’s when I would let him go. If anything happens, you can always have your old room back. I miss your cooking anyways, I feel like the house has downgraded from a 5-star restaurant to a 2-star one ever since you moved out.” This earned her a light laugh from you as you began to wipe the salty tears from your cheeks and take a deep breath.

“Thank you Mom,” you say.

“I’m always here for you Y/N, you know that. I’ll always be in your corner,” she says. You say goodbye and exit from your phone app to open up messages. You send Shouto a simple and concise message.

Y/N: I would really appreciate it if you could get home a little earlier tonight. We need to talk.

What shocked you was that almost immediately after, you saw the three dots pop up on the opposite side of the screen.

Shouto: Okay. Something up?

You were definitely not going to be starting this conversation over text. Absolutely not.

Y/N: We’ll talk when you get home.

The three dots didn’t pop up again, so instead, you decided to make dinner. You prepared a simple yet fail-safe comfort dinner for yourself, (favorite meal). Just as you finished fixing a plate for yourself and covered the rest in foil, you heard the faint jingle of keys outside of the apartment door. Your eyes dart up and your heart begins to beat wildly. Not in months has he been home early enough to have dinner with you - you thought you would’ve had more time to prepare what you were going to say to him. The door swings open to reveal Shouto with his work bag slung around his shoulder, hero costume stuffed in it. That detail stood out to you - never has Shouto not folded it carefully in order to prevent wrinkles. He dropped his bag near the front door and slid off his shoes. When he met your eyes, you stopped chewing instantly. The two of you stayed in your positions, perfectly still, until you slowly got up and grabbed an extra plate, putting a good portion of the meal you made onto it, and set it across from your spot at the dining room table. As you were sitting back down, Shouto walked towards you slowly, warily. It was like he was trying not to spook you. Like if he made any abrupt movements, you would jump up out of your chair and run for the hills. In his hand, you noticed, he held a daisy, which he placed on the table. Daisies always used to be a thing between the two of you. On your first date, he had taken you on a picnic in a meadow surrounded by the white dainty flowers. Daisies meant that you loved the other person. Taking a forkful of the food and placing it into his mouth, you could see him relax a bit. He always had a soft spot for your cooking, no matter what he felt like. The silence was overwhelming as the two of you ate, so Shouto decided to clear his throat.

“It’s been a long time since we had dinner together, huh.” He says. This simple sentence, just those 11 words, set you off. You slam your fork onto the table making Shouto jump a bit in his chair.

“Yes, Shoto, it has been. It’s been 3 months and 5 days since we last shared a meal together.” You say, venom leaking from your voice. Shouto instantly knew what this ‘talk’ you wanted to have was about. Just as he was about to open his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “No,” you simply say, “let me speak first. I could forgive the first couple of weeks when you came home late or said you had to stay over at the agency, but good god, what has been consuming all of your time that has made you spend more hours there than you have at home? I know for a fact that Midoriya works in the same department and has the same title and responsibilities that he has, but he’s home at 7:30 on the dot every night to see his wife and have dinner with her.” You snarl. “You haven’t been visiting home, I’ve called Natsuo and Fuyumi to ask if you were there and they said no. You haven’t been visiting your mother because the nurse makes sure to send an alert to our computer system for security reasons. So what, what has consumed your life in such a way that you don’t want to spend your time with me anymore?” As much as you tried, you couldn’t help it. You feel the moisture on your cheeks before you can comprehend that you're crying. Shouto’s face falls, his heart breaking as he can see yours has been crumbled for a long time.

“Y/N��� I’m so sorry,” he says, his gaze never faltering from yours. He takes a deep breath and stands from his seat, making his way over to yours and kneeling in front of you. “I…,” he choked out. You always knew that putting his feelings into words has never been one of Shouto’s strong suits, so you granted him the time to slowly get his thoughts together. “I freaked out.” He said simply.

“W-what?” You said, confused.

“I know we’ve been together for a long time, and I know that you’re looking for someone to settle down with and I freaked out because I didn’t think that I was a person who could do that.” You close your eyes and exhale. “I’ve been staying out late because I’ve been going to counseling, and I couldn’t let it get in the way of work. I wanted to help myself so that I could make the both of us happy and partake in an equal and loving relationship. I know I should’ve told you, but I… I just couldn’t get myself to spit it out.” You slid from the chair to your knees so you could be on the same level as Shouto was. Shouto rustled around in his jacket pocket and what was in his hands made your eyes widen. It was a small velvet box which left little to imagine what was inside. Before he could say another word, you put a hand on top of it to prevent him from opening it. This caused panic to flash in his eyes as they darted up to look into yours. 

“Shouto… I love you. You know that I love you, but are you sure?” You make sure to squeeze his hand. “I need you to be completely sure before you do this, because I am, and I can’t imagine myself with anyone else.”

“Yes.” He says, instantly. You smile and lean your forehead against his. What confuses him is when you grab the box and nestle it back into his coat pocket.

“This is not me saying no. I just think we need to get back into our old groove before this happens. We both know that we want to reach that milestone, but we need to run there first, okay?” You ask. Shouto exhales and reaches his hand up to cup your cheek.

“Okay. You share a kiss and let yourselves cry and hold the other. Shouto’s strong arms now move to tighten around your waist, which sends you over the moon. He hadn’t done that in a long time. 

“Let’s go to bed, yeah? I don’t want you to be late tomorrow.” You whisper, sniffling.

“No. I’ll shoot Midoriya a text telling him that I’m not gonna be in tomorrow. I want to make up for lost time.” Elated, more tears trail down your cheek, but these were happy ones. Letting Shouto pick you up, he carried you with such care to your soft bed and helped you get changed into pajamas. He taps your shoulders to get you to hold your arms straight up so that he can slide the blouse you wore to work today off of you. You unclip the pinchy bra you wore yourself and slid down the flowy pants you wore until they pooled around your feet. Shouto handed you one of his shirts, the one you’ve always had a soft spot for. It was now ragged with holes and falling apart at the seams, but the softness of the material enveloped you as he helped your arms through the sleeves. When you poked your head through the top of the shirt, Shouto gently gathered your hair and pulled it out of the shirt, laying it down your back. He himself then got changed and climbed into bed next to you. The two of you were like magnets with opposite poles, immediately being attracted to the other’s side. You lay your head on his chest and you feel his chin find its place on top of your head. You finally felt peaceful. Felt loved. And, more importantly, felt Shouto at your side.

“I love you,” he breathes. The air he exhales tickles your neck which only makes you nestle into him more.

“And I love you,” You murmur.

“We’re going to get married one day, okay?” He says, brushing a hand over your hair and playing with the ends of it.

“Okay.” You smile, a smile gracing your face as you drift off. Shouto’s heart didn’t slow to its normal pace until hours later. He was proud of himself. He finally admitted to himself that he was ready to enter a relationship where he knew that both of you felt the same way. For the entire time the two of you dated, he knew that he loved you, but he was terrified that one day, a switch would go off and his parents’ relationship would become yours. But now, with you in his arms agreeing to marry him one day, although he hadn’t yet formally proposed, guided him into a blissful sleep. Dreamworld decided to be nice to him, because all he could picture in his mind as he slumbered away were images of you, rings, and daisies

[anightflower]

One Night Stand

Summary: After a shitty one night stand, Bucky slut shames your sex life. You get a little revenge by playing a game Bucky doesn’t like. 

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY: S M U T 

You grumbled as you made your way down to the Towers main kitchen. Your body ached, you were exhausted, and all you wanted was a cup or coffee and some goddamn peace and quiet.

You internally groaned when you noticed that the kitchen was not empty. Bucky and Sam sat at the breakfast bar. One drowsily eating cereal, while the other attempted to flick runaway cereal pieces at the other. Natasha sat perched next to the coffee machine, scrolling through her phone and sipping from a mug of coffee.

Natasha's eyes left her phone and lit up as she focused on you. “You look tired (Y/N)” she snickered. “Did you have a late night last night?” 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Bucky and Sam focus on you.

You glared at Nat as you made your way to the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup of coffee. 

Don’t even start. “I don’t know what makes you say that Nat.” You said irritated.

“Well for one you look like hell, and two I don’t think you’re supposed to put salt in your coffee. Unless you really prefer it that way.” Sam piped up with a shiteating grin. 

“Oh hell.” You hissed, tossing your salty coffee down the sink. 

Natasha made her way over to you with a fresh mug of coffee. “So tell me, was he good?” 

You nearly dropped the cup she handed to you. “NAT!” 

“Oh please. I saw you sneak out last night like a horny teenager. You’re an adult now, you can talk about sex. Unless the boys can't handle it.” She raised a brow at Sam and Bucky who pretended not to listen. 

Sam smirked into his coffee. Bucky remained stone-faced, glaring slightly at Natasha. 

“I for one, don’t need to hear the details of another one of your slinky one night stands doll.” Bucky grumbled angrily, pushing his stool back from the counter. 

“Slinky one night stands? Are you fucking kidding me Buck? Sorry I am a grown woman looking for quality sex that I clearly can’t find here!” You growled. 

Bucky eyes burned with anger. He looked like he was about to say something but all he did was huff and leave the room. 

“Sam maybe it’s time you got Bucky laid.” Nat observed, “He seems to always have a stick far up his ass.”

“Trust me, it’s not all it's cracked up to be.” You mumbled, stirring more creamer into your coffee. 

“Was it really that bad?”  Nat asked. 

“Oh, the guy wasn’t bad, he was horrific. Only cared about himself. I may as well have stayed home and used a toy for hell’s sake. 

Sam winced. “I did not need to know you had sex toys.” 

“Oh grow up Sam, it’s not a woman’s fault that men don’t know what they’re doing. Men are the problem, sex toys are the solution.” 

“Well, who knows (Y/N), maybe you'll meet a special someone at Stark’s Charity Gala Saturday.” Nat said wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“Fuck, I forgot that was this weekend. I’m all for charity, but if I’m forced to go to another one of Stark’s fucking parties-” You groaned. 

“Uhem” You heard a familiar voice sound from the door. “First off you love my parties, even if it’s deep down. Second, you always look ravishing in whatever you wear, and lastly, you get all the free alcohol you want. All you have to do is force a smile and be friendly.” Tony hummed.

You rolled your eyes as you pushed past him, careful not to spill your coffee. If Saturday you had to be a social butterfly, today would be a lock yourself in your room and watch Netflix kinda day.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Tony was right, you do always manage to look ravishing. Very Bond-esque” Sam said to you as he entered your room. 

You smiled at him through your reflection, admiring the slimming black dress you had on. “Thanks Sam. Have you come to be my handsome escort?” 

He held a hand out to you,  “Bond, James Bond, happily at your service.

His other hand produced a bottle of expensive liquor from behind his back, a liquor that was most likely stolen from Tony’s “hidden” cabinet. “I have also come to get you throughly wasted before this party. Bucky’s in a bitchy mood and Steve’s very busy trying to untie Bucky’s panties.” 

“In that case, pour us some drinks, it’s going to be a long night if we have to deal with not one, but two grouchy old men.” 

__________________________________________________________________________

You could have sworn this party was more extravagant than the last. The room shone with several different lights, giving it an ethereal glow. Champagne fountains stood about the room. It was like walking into a Great Gatsby fantasy.

Bucky and Steve were already at the bar, causing your joy to deflate a bit. You had avoided Bucky at every cost since the two of you had fought. He hadn’t sought you out to apologize either.

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “I hope the bar has enough of the strong stuff, otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to deal with Bucky’s bitchiness all night, even with the alcohol we had before this in my system.” 

Sam snickered. “He still hasn’t apologized has he?” 

“Nope. So he’s definitely on my shit list. He had no reason to be angry with me or shame my sex life.” 

Sam looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself. He shook his head. “Just ignore him (Y/N). Bucky will be Bucky. Besides if you really feel like enacting revenge I know a little game you can play to piss him off even more.”

You groaned. “Sam as much as I would love to piss Bucky off more, I am not in the mood to play 'One Night Rate’ right now. This last guy really put me off for a while.” 

“Oh come on (Y/N)! One guy can’t ruin your chances of a great one night stand. Look at all the beautiful people here.” He said gesturing around the room. “You’re telling me there isn’t a single guy you want to take home?” 

There was one guy you wanted to take home, but he currently was the one person who you weren’t speaking to. You knew you would probably regret this but-

“Fine.” You groaned. “I’ll play, but that doesn’t mean I have to follow through with it.” 

Sam grinned as you two made your way over to Bucky and Steve.

Steve smiled at the two of you, but it quickly turned into a suspicious look at the grin on Sam’s face.  “What are you two up to?” 

You and Sam remained quiet smirking at one another. Steve finally put the pieces together. 

“You two are not playing One Night Rate again are you?” He groaned.  

“Listen man, (Y/N) needs a better partner to make up for the last guy. The least I can do is support her and give good advice.” Sam said, as you blushed. 

“You’re the one who convinced me to do it! I wasn’t even going to play it.” You laughed, nudging Sam’s shoulder. 

Bucky stared at the three of you stone faced. “Do I even want to know what this game is?” 

You gave Bucky a sarcastic smirk. “It’s a game Sam, Steve, and I came up with one night at one of Tony’s galas-” 

“It was mostly Sam and (Y/N).” Steve interjected. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was Golden Boy.” Sam snickered. “Anyway, we were bored and perhaps a bit more intoxicated than we should have been-” 

“Excuses, excuses.” Sam interrupted you. “You are avoiding the point. It’s basically a game where one of us chooses a person and the jury,” he gestured to you and Steve, “Comes to a consensus on whether or not that person should be brought home or not.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Are you guys serious?” 

“If you’re going to slut shame, you can always hang with Nat, I’m sure she’s drunk enough to put up with your assholery. Besides, you wouldn’t want to play such a sleazy game right?” You said, plastering a fake smile on your face. 

Bucky winced. “(Y/N)-”

You held up a hand, stopping him. “I don’t want to hear it right now James.” You only called him by his first name when you were really pissed with him. “Right now, I want to drink, find a guy, and get an actual good fuck. So if you’ll excuse me.” You pushed past the three men, ignoring their shocked faces and Bucky’s very pissed one.

Sam grimaced. “So much for playing the game. Something tells me she’ll follow her own rules right now.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Sam had remained at the bar with Bucky and Steve, long after you left them. Bucky’s face was steely, his eyes following every move you made on the dance floor. You weren’t alone, and of course the guy you had chosen was incredibly handsy with you. As his hands slide down your body, Bucky couldn't help but let out a growl.

“Buck, I don’t get it. Why won’t you just apologize and tell her how you feel? You’re being idiotic.” Steve said gently, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Sam nodded along with Steve’s sentiment. “Dude maybe if you opened your eyes you’d see that she actually likes you back.” 

Bucky’s eyes shot to Sam. “What the hell did you say Wilson?”

Sam gave him a look. “Don’t play dumb with me Barnes, you heard what I said. She likes you. I’m surprised that such a good assassin like you could miss something as blatant as that.” 

“Then why the hell does she go off with other guys then?” Bucky asked, irritated.

“Because she’s just as blind to it as you. You have no idea how obnoxious it is to be the middleman and keep quiet, especially when you’re dealing with two oblivious morons.” Sam groaned. Steve cackled loudly.

“What am I supposed to do? She’s off with some other guy.” Bucky sighed. 

Steve smirked at him, “That never stopped you in the 40’s.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

This guy was doing nothing for you. He was sweaty, way too handsy, and was unfortunately not as attractive up close, a drunken mistake on your part. But you knew Bucky was watching and you would not cave easily, so you kept dancing. 

The guy pulled you taut against him. “So babe when do you want to get out of here?” 

You grimaced, resisting the urge to push the guy off you. Was pissing Bucky off really worth all this?

“I think I can take it from here bud.” A familiar voice said. It sent chills down your spine. Your date, what was his name? Jake? Jason? You couldn't even remember, that’s how uninteresting he was. 

He turned to Bucky releasing his grip on you. “Back off dude, she’s taken.” 

Bucky glared at him unmoving. “I think you misunderstood me asshole. Fuck off.” The dance floor lights flashed over Bucky’s face giving sweaty hands a better look at who he was talking to. 

His face paled. “Oh shit I’m so sorry man, she’s all yours.” He quickly pushed through the crowd on the dance floor to get away. 

You turned to Bucky and crossed your arms. “Are you fucking kidding me James?  First, you call me sleazy and now you chase off any fucking guy I am interested in? What is wrong with y-” 

Your rant was cut off as Bucky dragged you off the dance floor and through a maze of halls. You were too shocked to say anything as he pushed you into the fancy one stall bathroom and locked the door. 

You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t just scare my date off then drag me into a bathroom.”

“Oh please, that guy was a scumbag, you could do much better.” Bucky snarled.  

He turned his back on you and let out a frustrated growl, running his hands through his hair. 

“You weren’t even playing the game right.” He said quietly. 

“What?” 

He turned back to you and moved toward you, causing you to back up until you hit the sink counter. His arms pinned down on either side of you and he leaned in. There were mere inches between both of your lips. 

“I said you weren’t even playing the game right. You’re supposed to consult Sam and Steve and come to a consensus. You just picked a random asshole to piss me off. I at least played the game right.” He growled.

You heart was in your throat. You thought of what to say to defend your choices, then you realized what Bucky said. “Wait what do you mean you’re playing the game right?”

Bucky smirked. “The jury came to a consensus. You’re the best choice to take home tonight. You got the highest rating (Y/N).” His smile turned more sincere. “I want to take you home tonight and every night if you’ll let me. I know I’ve been an ass to you and I’m sorry. I was just so pissed that other guys got to have you while I couldn’t. And-”

You grabbed Bucky by his shirt collar and pulled him in, smashing your lips against his. A growl emanated from his throat as he wrapped his arms around you. Causing both of you to go into a frenzy. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he lifted you up and placed you on the bathroom counter. You whined as Bucky placed kisses all down your neck. He sucked harshly in certain areas making you gasp. 

“If I can finally have you all to myself, I want to mark you as mine.” He mumbled against your neck. His words went straight to your soaking core. 

You began unbuttoning his shirt as he pushed up your dress. He pulled it over your head and  threw it behind him, pausing to admire you in your matching black lace set. You returned the favor and pushed off his suit jacket as he attempted to unbutton his shirt. You let out a moan when his chiseled body was finally fully in view.

Bucky pulled down your bra causing your breasts to be pushed up from the material. He purred as he leaned down and worshipped each one, placing kisses all over the top, then moving down and sucking on your nipple. His hand went to your other breast, his fingers massaging and playing with your other nipple. He tugged at it causing you to let out a loud moan. 

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cried out. He smirked as his hands and mouth traveled down your body. When he finally reached your panties, he looked you in the eye and slowly pulled them down with his teeth. 

You were speechless. 

“Fuck baby, just a few words and some teasing and you’re soaking for me,” He hissed out, his dick hardening as he gazed at your sexed out and wanton state. 

‘Bucky please.” You begged. Wanting, no, needing him to touch you. 

He smirked at you. “Oh I see now doll, when you want me to fuck you I’m Bucky, notJames?”

“James Buchanan Barnes, if you do not fuck me right now-” you growled. 

Bucky chuckled, lowering his mouth to where you needed it most. Your growl turned into a pleasurable scream. 

Bucky looked up at you, amusement in his eyes. He paused his work. “You know love, you’re lucky the music is so loud, otherwise you and I could be caught in this very scandalous position.”

You smirked and bit your lip. “Let them find us then.” 

With that Bucky feasted on you like you were his last meal. His tongue swirling over your clit and licking your slit until you felt that delicious build up in your stomach. Your hands grasped and pulled at his hair. 

“Bucky, don’t stop, I'm going to-” whiteness filled your vision as you came. You tried to close your legs, but Bucky had them pinned against the counter, continuing his work until you finished riding out your orgasm. 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as Bucky kissed back up your body until he met your lips. 

You undid his belt and pants, letting his bulging member free. Bucky wasted no time lining himself up with your entrance. Sliding in slowly until he filled you completely. 

You gasped at the pleasure that filled your body. You had never felt so full in any other one night stand. Hell hardly any of them had made you come like this once, or at all. 

“God doll, you’re so tight.” Bucky groaned as he gave you time to adjust to his size. 

“Bucky if you don’t start moving-” you threatened, but were cut off as Bucky quickly thrust in and out of you.

He smirked as you let out a pleasured squeak. 

“Fuck you” you giggled. 

“Gladly.” He replied as he picked up his pace. 

It was relentless and god it was the greatest sex you had ever had. He had actually put your pleasure first, and was about to make you come again. 

The feeling built up in your stomach, and you clenched around Bucky. As if he could read your mind, he reached down and began rubbing your clit. You had to bite back a scream. 

Bucky smashed his lips against yours, as white flashed again in your vision, as your second orgasm hit you. Bucky followed soon after. 

When you both came down from your highs, your eyes met and you giggled. 

“What?” Bucky asked, returning your smile. 

“I swear this better be the last one night stand I ever had, because all I want for the rest of my life is you Bucky Barnes.” 

Bucky’s eyes softened and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Funny, because all I’ve ever wanted for the longest time, is you.” You felt your heart skip a beat. 

Bucky’s face turned more mischievous. “Now let’s get out of here. I have a long night planned to show you that you actually can find quality sex around here.” 

[colorseeingchick]

Onigiri and Second Chances

Pairing: Osamu Miya x Reader

Summary: The Black Jackals are hosting a Christmas party, and Osamu agrees to come. But there’s some details Atsumu forgot to tell him- 1, he’s supposed to mass-make Onigiri for the party, and 2, a figure from his past is making a reappearance. 

Warnings: Mostly Fluff, some Angst, suggestive content, swearing 

Word Count: 3.7k 

A/N: Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays everyone! This is far from my best work but I hope its fun regardless !

Osamu swears he can see his breath crystalize before him in his kitchen as he plots the murder of his damned brother. 

Well, plotting his brother’s demise is currently secondary to the molding of the  onigiri in his hand. It feels odd, the contrast between the soft, squishy rice warming his palms as he meticulously works at it and the prickly cold that bites his forearms, bare and at the mercy of the cold air of his kitchen, unprotected by his rolled up sleeves. 

Now, you probably have a lot of questions! 

Why’s Osamu Miya making some lip-smacking onigiri at 4 pm on Christmas Eve? 

Because his bitch of a brother tricked him.

Why’s he making 70? 

Ask Atsumu smh (if it’s not abundantly clear, my boy Osamu is VERY salty).

Has he been here for like, 3 hours already? 

Yeah, he sure as hell has. 

Will he be here for a good few more?

Uh huh. 

Why? 

Well, Osamu doesn’t take onigiri lightly. 1. If he’s gonna make em for Atsumu’s party, he was gonna do em right. Even though Atsumu forgot to mention that onigiri was gonna be the special dish to Osamu- the one making the onigiri- until 10 am the day of, (I’m sure y’all get why Osamu is mad now) there wasn’t a chance in hell he was gonna let his dishes fall flat, especially for a party this big. He has a bunch of specialty flavors he’s been wanting to showcase anyways, and in the process of making so many for such a large number, he knows it’s easy to get lost in a ‘quantity over quality’ mindset. No matter the amount, Onigiri Miya’s quality never wavers (A/N: period king as you should). 

But the AC being broken? That’s not a part of his plan. And it was just kinda, icing on his metaphorical cake of reasons why he’s pissed as hell right now. It makes him question if all this effort is really worth it, at least for tonight. 

Osamu’s initially thought that, because his brother’s the host for this party, that maybe he should try to spruce up a bit, come in lookin like an acceptable counterpart to his charismatic, showy brother. But now? He’ll realistically be here in this kitchen till the time of the party, so he’ll show up lookin a lil rough. Effort that should’ve gone into his looks is not being put into his food.  If Atsumu complains, Osamu will not hesitate to shove an onigiri up his-

It’s whatever. It’s not like he has anyone he needs to impress there anyways. He’s just the onigiri twin tonight. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party is in full swing when Osamu arrives. But unlike Atsumu’s usual parties, the music wasn’t blaring- it’s festive and moderate. And despite being ‘party’ attire, everyone seems a little less scandalous. I guess that’s natural when some business representatives and officials from the volleyball world are also present. Unfortunately, this does mean that Osamu is the most underdressed, but he’s come to terms with it. 

But knowing his brother, there’s no way a Miya party would be fully professional. There has to be some element of childishness or stupidity somewhere in this party-

And Osamu gets his answer when he looks up. 

Mistletoe. And lots of it. It’s not everywhere everywhere. But there’s more than one, and they are seemingly strategically placed. 

Osamu chuckles. Leave it to his brother to try and start shit. All this means is that he has to be careful to not end up in the wrong spot with some random person. He’ll be fine. 

Giant container filled with onigiri in hand, he maneuvers his way to the kitchen, nodding and smiling at his acquaintances as he goes. As he’s about to step onto the cold tile of the kitchen, he stops dead in his tracks. 

Fuck his brother. 

He didn’t say anything about you being here. Somebody’ll have to stop him from slugging his asshat of a twin across the face. 

“SAMMMMUUUU!!!!!” Speak of the devil. 

Atsumu slings his arm over his twin’s shoulder,  a cup in his other hand.

“Are ya drunk?” 

“Huh? No. Gotta keep it together! I’m the host after all.” Atsumu smiles wide, rather stupidly. 

“Great. If yer sober, that means I can beat the ever livin’ shit outta ya and yer gonna remember.” 

“Oi, oi, what did I do!? Ya just got here!” Fear shined Atsumu’s bright eyes. 

“If you could like, not beat my boyfriend up, I’d appreciate it a bit, Samu-kun,” a female voice gently chimes in. 

“Homura-chan, hello.” Osamu’s shoulders relax as his brother’s level-headed girlfriend pops up in between the two, giving Osamu a side hug only to watch Atsumu pout. 

“Homura…” Atsumu’s whine is enough for her to placate him with a tight hug, but she continues to face Osamu. 

“Why do you wanna kill him this time? Not that you’re wrong for wanting to. I’m just curious.”

“Hey!”

“He didn’t tell me they were gon be here.” Osamu’s eyes shift to you, laughing in the kitchen, talking to Hinata and Bokuto, while filling cups with hot chocolate. 

“Oh I thought you were gonna yell at him for not telling you about the onigiris till this morning.”

“That too.”

“HEY!” 

“But I guess it’s my fault they’re here. I invited them, they are my best friend after all. But I should have told you. I’m sorry, Samu.”

“No, no. Its fine Homura-chan. I just…” 

Osamu doesn’t know how to verbalize it. He’s had a crush on you since 2nd year, and it didn’t go anywhere even through college. You two knew each other pretty well, and he almost asked you out. Emphasis on almost. Being honest, he abandoned ship when he saw some guy kissing you after class one day- he figured he had waited for too long. He cut off communication with you soon after, despite your attempts to reach out. Homura had time and time again reminded Osamu that you didn’t hate him, and he did trust her. But that didn’t help him shake off the feeling you did, and always would, resent him. 

It also did not help that his stomach jumped the moment he heard your beautiful laugh resonate in the kitchen, or that his face heated up when he saw you warmly hug your cup of hot chocolate, sipping it so gently. So cute. 

He’s still whipped. Fuck. 

Homura nudges his shoulder, one hand intertwined with Atsumu’s. “We’re not gonna make you talk to them-”

“maybe...” adds in Atsumu.

“-But if they come up to ya, maybe it won’t be the worst thing.”

Osamu looks down, tightly gripping the strap attached to his container. “Okay,” he quietly agrees.

Atsumu slaps his brother’s shoulder with a smile and comments, “ya know where my clothes are, grab em if ya need em” before taking his leave to go entertain other guests.

“I’m assuming you have more containers?” Homura asks, standing by Osamu’s side.

“70 onigiris definitely do not fit in here.” Osamu smiles with his quip, and she smiles back. 

“Figured. I’ll help ya grab the rest. Go and put that down first.” She heads towards the front door, leaving him in the doorway. 

He takes a deep breath before recomposing himself, restoring his classic blank n’ bored expression. He strides into the kitchen, placing the black container down softly and attracts eyes in the process, including yours. He feels your soft gaze somehow dig into the back of his head once he swiftly turns around, walking away back to the front door. As he steps back into the winter breeze, he’s met with Homura’s knowing gaze. 

“They’re single, ya know.” 

Osamu huffs out cold hair, eyes closing at the sting of the wind. And somehow, the cold sting filling his lungs eased the fear in his stomach. 

“I look like shit.”

“Atsu said you could take his clothes. Let’s go pick somethin’ nice out for ya.” 

This is gonna be a long night. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Osamu sits himself on the couch, a glass of champagne in one hand. Atsumu’s maroon button-up faintly smells like his signature cologne, and although he usually hates it, something about it helps Osamu channel his brother’s cockiness confidence, which feels very helpful right about now. 

But the confidence he’s tryna channel can only do so much. Suna and Akaashi are both worried as they watch Osamu space out mid conversation. Its far from normal. Suna knows exactly what’s on his best friend’s mind, while Akaashi is astute enough to make a guess. 

“Myaa-sam.” Akaashi gently calls to Osamu. No response. 

So Suna gives him a nice kick. 

“Oi!” Osamu rubs his shin. 

“Talk to them, before ya go crazy and take us all down with ya,” Suna’s tone is flat and bored, but the intensity of the statement is clear. 

“I dunno…” 

“Myaa-sam, don’t you think it's worth a try?” Akaashi’s approach is different, soft and coaxing. 

“Ya know how awkward it’s gonna be?” His leg is bouncing now.

He wants to. Very badly. But he can’t. It might only make things worse. 

“It’s only awkward if ya make it awkward. And that’s comin’ from me. Ya know, from both of our personal experiences, waiting too long is the worst mistake you can make.” Suna turns his gaze back to the kitchen, wistfulness is his voice. 

“We fucked up. But yer gettin’ a second chance. Don’t do it again.” 

Osamu knows Suna’s pain. He knows he’s right. 

“How the hell do I even start?” 

Suna’s gaze shifts to something, or someone, else before quickly locking eyes with Akaashi. 

“Don’t run.” He then gets up wordlessly and walks away. 

Akaashi brushes his pants off before standing, a small smile resting on his face. 

“Just remember Myaa-sam, you’ll only regret the things you don’t do. It’s best to be honest,” and with that, Akaashi also walks away. 

As Osamu’s eyes trace Akaashi’s path of escape, his eyes are caught by you, happily bounding towards him- a smile on your face and onigiri in hand. 

Yeah, that’s you for sure. Osamu is caught between the nerves in his stomach and the fuzziness in his mind as you come up to him. 

“Osamu, hello! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, L/N.”

“Can, can I sit here?”

Don’t run. 

“Yeah.”

As you sit down, he notes the distance, he notes how your arms are in front of you, he notes your smile, and he notes how your eyes shine. He notes how cute you look with the onigiri tightly held in your hands. 

“Your onigiri’s are amazing! I always knew you were a great cook, but I’m so sad I never got to try them before!”

“Thank you, L/N. These definitely aren’t my best, Tsumu didn’t tell me I needed to make em till this mornin’ so… I was worried they weren’t as good.”

A lie. He knows they’re not bad. But he wants you to think they can be much better. 

“If this is bad then I’ll definitely have to come by and try more! Because this is the best onigiri I’ve ever had. But maybe that’s because you’re the one who made em.” You quickly move on from your comment by taking a giant bite out of your onigiri, and Osamu hopes that you don’t see how intensely his face heats up. 

Are ya, flirting? With him? Nah, yer just being you, all nice and all. But that doesn’t do anything to mitigate how much you’ve just stroked his ego. 

“Sounds like classic Atsumu, to forget to tell ya something important. What was your day like? Having to prep all this so fast.” You look up at him, expectantly, eagerly ready to listen to him.

Your undivided attention does illegal things to his heart, ya know. 

But just like that, you two fall into your usual pace, as if y’all had never stopped talking in the first place. He tells you stories, you add in charismatic quips, you both share laughs, and slowly the gap between you two closes. Osamu’s hand is now empty of any glasses and lounges against the back of the chair right by your head. You, on the other hand, have your legs pulled up under you, your knees gently pushing against his thigh. 

“Oh my gosh I should be at more Black Jackals games from now on, this sounds amazing,” you say as you wipe a tear from your eye after laughing too hard. 

“If yer goin, lemme know, I can keep ya company,” Osamu lets the words fall from his mouth before he processes what he’s saying. 

You pause, soaking in his words. “Really?”

Now it’s his turn to process his offer. “Uh.. only… if yer interested-”

“I’d love that.” You smile at him, excitement clear in your voice. 

As Osamu indulges himself in the sight of your smile, he realizes that some rice clung to the corner of your face. Out of instinct and enabled by proximity, his hand resting in his lap reaches out to you. His hand caresses your jaw while his thumb drags against the corner of your mouth, down over your bottom lip. Out of shock, you could do nothing but stare at him as his eyes meet yours. 

In this moment, in this place, time has stopped. Osamu has one thought on his mind as he thumbs at your lips. 

I need to kiss them. Now.

But then he didn’t. 

Osamu sharply retracts his hand, a “ah, sorry,” running off his tongue. 

“You’re, you’re fine.” You look down, flustered. “I’ll, be right back.” Osamu sighs and feels his heart start to sting as you walk away, head lowered. 

Fuck me. I fucked up again, didn’t I? I just didn’t want to do anything they didn’t want. 

 Osamu snaps back to reality as he feels a hard slap against the back of his head. 

He’s ready to fight when he turns around, only to see Homura and Atsumu behind the couch. 

“The fuck was that, Samu?” Atsumu aggressively yell whispers. 

“What doya mean!” He knows what Atsumu means. He hates admitting Tsumu is right, but he can’t admit that. 

Homura’s disappointed glare quiets him down. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, Osamu. But if you want it, you can’t keep running away. And don’t lead them on either, that ain’t fair.” 

“I didn’t know if they wanted to…” Hasn’t that always been the problem? Osamu is a confident guy. He pulls a lotta people, pretty consistently too. But you were different, always had been. Osamu never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to make you uncomfortable. Never wanted to ruin your friendship. But in trying to do that, once it was too late, he knew that’s exactly what he did. And he couldn’t find it in himself to do that again. 

“They want it. I know my best friend. They want you as much as you want them, headass. So if you’re not gonna make a move, I will.” With that, Homura turns on her heels and walks away, Atsumu glaring at his brother while his girlfriend pulls him along. 

That’s definitely a threat. What does it mean? Who knows! But better to not find out.

Osamu’s eyes scan the room and he finds Suna leaning up against a wall, Akaashi standing next to him. Suna’s lazy gaze makes contact with Osamu’s for a moment before closing while sipping at his hot chocolate. Akaashi’s squint also feels more piercing in this moment. 

My boys are talkin’ shit about me? Incorrect, Samu. In case you have not realized, your boys are not the type to talk in the first place. 

I deserve it this time though. He rubs the back of his neck as he stands up to stretch. 

You do regret the things you don’t do. Dammit Akaashi. Time to talk it out. 

Osamu strides through the house tryna find you. He finds you stepping down the stairs, wiping at your face. His heart shatters and he really wants nothing but to hug you. But he resists, mind determined. 

“L/N.”

“Osamu! Hi um… I’m so sorry if I’ve been bothering you.” 

“L/N.”

“I’ll just let you go, I don’t wanna make you anymore uncomfortable.”

“Y/N.” Osamu grabs your arm as you try and walk away and gently tugs you to face him. “Please. Can we talk?” 

You pause, take a deep breath, and then turn to him, eyes still ensuring him that he has your undivided attention. 

With butterflies fluttering in his stomach, he calmly speaks. “I like you.”

Your eyes widen.

“I like you a lot. Since 2nd year-”

“In college?”

“High school.” 

You shudder and tears pool in the corners of your eyes. Instinct takes over Osamu as he pulls you forward with all his weight, throwing you against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. 

“I’m sorry I never told ya,” he whispers to you as he rocks you side to side, your face buried in his chest and your arms tight around his back. 

“I’ve always been so scared of, hurtin ya. You were one of my close friends, and I didn’t wanna mess it up over feelings. I didn’t wanna lose ya.” 

You nuzzle against his chest as he feels you start to shake.

“But when I saw that guy kissin ya one day, I thought… I thought I lost you anyways. I realized I waited too long and that I made a mistake. And then I proceeded to do everythin’ I never wanted to do, I hurt ya and I fucked up our friendship.”

“Osamu, I never wanted him to kiss me.” Your voice cracks. 

“...What?” His eyes go wide with concern and confusion. 

“He kissed me outta the blue. I thought we were just friends but he didn’t see it that way. I was just being myself, though. But right after that I told him there was someone else I liked.” 

Osamu internally hits himself. Maybe he should just ask Atsumu to punch him. How could he be so fuckin’ stupid? 

“I was gonna confess to you after that, but that’s when you dipped on me. I didn’t know what I did, and Homura told me to talk to you and find out for myself- she said it’d be fine if I talked to you, and that I should learn to communicate with you but I… I didn’t reach out. That’s my fault.”

Osamu pulls you closer to him, crushing you as much as he could. It’s his turn to shed a few tears, in frustration and pain. He coulda been with you all this time, but he was being a headass. Maybe Homura should punch him instead. 

“I’m...I’m so so sorry Y/N. I missed ya so much.” He cradles you in his arms, a calming (self-calming) sigh falling through his lips. 

“I’ve missed you too, Samu.”

You two look at each other for a good, long moment before small smiles crawl onto your faces. Osamu pulls you against him once more. 

“Let’s try this again. I wanna get it right this time.”

“Sounds good to me.” You say, sniffles stopping and giggles rising out of your chest. 

He buries his nose into the top of your head drawing in the sweet smell of your shampoo while his hands grab onto your fluffy sweater. 

“So cute! NOW KISS.” You and Osamu jolt out of your hug when Atsumu barks. All Osamu’s (and your) friends had now come to look at you two, smiles all around. 

Akaashi smiles fondly. Suna smiles lazily, and your favorite dumb Black Jackals (Bokuto and Hinata), who were unaware of any history between you two, are now in shock while also smiling like crazy. 

“Get it, Mya-samm!” Bokuto cheers out, causing everyone to erupt into laughter. 

“Wait, wait!” Atsumu runs down the hall, jumps, and then runs right up to his twin. He then proceeds to hold a mistletoe right above yours and Osamu’s head. 

“ I’ve been waitin’ for this shit to happen for Ion even know how many years. No chickenin’ out of it this time.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it, jackass.” 

Osamu’s hands find their way to your cheeks, gently caressing it with his fingers running up and down your jaw. His eyes take their time inspecting every inch of your face, mentally mapping every beautiful feature that adorns you. With the fire hot in his stomach and his lips aching, he pulls your face to meet his, lips gently massaging yours, telling you everything he had said earlier all over again, but this time with his actions. 

He likes you. A lot. For years. And he’s missed you so much. 

He slows the kiss down, taking his time to let you feel his lips against yours. When your hands reach up to hold his face he can’t help but try and pull you closer. 

As he pulls away after a mere 30 seconds, which did indeed feel like forever, his adrenaline is pumping and his smile is uncontrollable. The whooping and hollering slowly starts to die down, not that either of you heard it while so focused on the other. 

Osamu’s eyes find Suna’s. Suna has his camera out, as per usual, but his face has a small smile on it, and he nods to his best friend. With that, he nudges Akaashi and they walk back to to the family room. 

“Alright alright let’s get going boys. We have games that need to be played.” Homura grabs Bokuto and Hinata by the arm and collar (respectively) after giving a look to you. 

In that moment, Atsumu winked at Osamu while doing the ‘okay’ sign with his hands before walking to the room with everyone else. 

It was a signal the two had established way back in high school, when he and Homura started dating. It was their nonverbal sign of permission to the other twin for guaranteed privacy- which was important in a household of shared rooms and shared, well, everything. 

“What now Samu?” You look up at him, tugging him closer now that everyone else was gone. 

“I’m not done with ya just yet.” He smiles down at you, his eyes mischievous. 

You tilt your head in confusion. 

“I’m throwin ya over my shoulder, okay?” 

“Yes but why-” 

With that, Osamu sweeps you off the floor and throws you over his right shoulder easily.

“I messed up for years of my life, and now I have to make up for lost time. I told ya I’m not done with ya just yet.” 

Osamu proceeds to carry you up the stairs, giggles falling from your mouth. 

He’s gonna make sure you know much he really likes you. He’ll shower you in so much love, there won’t be a doubt left in your mind. 

He promises.

Epilogue- the next day

As the Black Jackals all slept like logs in their rooms, the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the air, attracting some of the other guests.

Some of the other boys, Suna, Akaashi, and Osamu, had all slept over, and were the among the first to find their way to the kitchen. 

“Samu, did Y/N get home ok?” Homura asks him while flipping some pancakes at the stove. 

Rubbing his eyes as he approaches her with a cup of coffee in hand, he nods. “Happy n’ safe.” 

“I’m very glad.”

“Homura-chan, I have a question for ya.” 

“Yes?”

“You knew both of our sides of the story from a long time ago. Why did ya never say anythin’? I’m not mad but I’m tryna figure it out.”

She smiles before saying, “It didn’t feel right. I love you both. A lot, obviously. But I think we both know intervening can... make things worse. A lot worse.”

A shared memory flashes through their minds. 

“And on top of that, I don’t think it would’ve solved the real issue both of you had. I wanted y’all to be happy in a relationship, but that meant y’all would have some barriers to cross. Y’all needed to grow before you could work as a couple. So I figured time would do its work.” 

“Although!!” Atsumu’s bright voice cuts in as he marches into the kitchen, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms, “us not telling you they were coming yesterday was 100% planned.” 

“And not telling me about onigiris?”

“Yeah that was intentional. Had to keep ya away from the house long enough.” 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya, Tsumu.” 

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed! The ambiguity with Suna, Osamu, and Homura was intentional, so stay tuned!!!

[whumpasaurus101]

Five Past Three

Oki ik i said i was on a writing break but uhmmmmm feck that :) here is some Pheonix content BC THE POOR BEBE HAS BEEN NEGLECTED OMG!!! SO here is some backstory shenanigans that are sorta important to know heheh 👀

CW: drug use (not in too much detail but oc is high.) / i cant think of anything else BUT if i missed anything plz plz plzzzz lmk!!!!!

masterlist

Pheonix collapsed to the ground with a grunt. His whole body was tingling, almost numb. He felt as if everyone in the world was watching him. He lifted his head, no one.

The wind blew more, making Pheonix shiver.

He could still feel the pounding of the nightclub’s music in his head. Not the one he worked at, oh no no, he wouldn't get high at the place he worked at.

He scrambled in his pocket with numb fingers, trying his best to take out his phone. He tried to put in his passcode, 1-7-8-5, try again, 1-4-5-6, try again “FUCK!” Pheonix yelled, throwing his phone across the car park, hearing it crack against the concrete.

“Who’s there?” Came a voice. Pheonix curled up more in on himself. “Son, are you alright?” Phoenix's head snapped up to see an old man standing in front of him. His vision was shaking as he tried to focus in on the man. He could hear him talking but he couldn't understand! He sounded so far away, yet, he was just about a meter away.

“Hey -ah! Ya reak, boy! What did you take?!”

“Wh-what time is it?” Pheonix’s shaky voice asked. “It's five past three in the mornin’, lad. Now, are ya gonna answer my question?” Pheonix shook his head. No. To be fully honest, Pheonix didn’t know himself. He shouldn't have been so reckless! How did he even get in the carpark? He didn't remember walking here.

“This is dangerous! Someone coulda just picked you from the streets and- well, God knows what would happen! You're lucky I saw ya, lad.” His phone! That's what he was doing! “C-could you pass me my phone please, it-it's over there.” The man looked at him, confused at first before he saw the phone lying there. He strolled over and picked it up, studying the cracked screen.

The lock screen came on and the man could see some notifications. Ten missed calls from Sammy, a bunch of text messages from Sammy too and then just some regular notifications. “Well, it seems as if someone is worried about you, ya better call them back before they go absolutely mad lookin’ for ya, ay?”

Pheonix just held out his hand for the phone before asking again, “What time is it?” The man huffed, “Lad, you just asked, it's still five past three.” Pheonix’s eyebrows furrowed, “N-no, you told me that ages ago, th-the- I-”

“Shhh, it's alright, relax yourself.” He passed Pheonix’s phone over and pointed at the time, “See?” He asked in a gentle voice. Pheonix nodded as he saw the numbers through tear-filled eyes.

“I-I- yes, I’m sorry-” “Hey, no need. Now, how about you ring your friend there and we can sort out how we can get ya home. How does that sound?” Pheonix nodded as he tried to put in his passcode once more. His hands were shaking violently as his numb fingers attempted to key in the numbers. Please try again.

“Here, how about I’ll put it in for you and you can do the talking, aye?” Pheonix nodded, “The uh, the passcode is 1-4-5-2. The man put in the code and Pheonix’s phone unlocked. The man opened the phone app and pressed the contact ‘Sammy’. It only took one ring until Sammy’s desperate voice was heard, “Pheonix?!? Pheonix are you okay?! God I'm gonna kill you if I haven't already died from a heart attack!" Pheonix chuckled slowly, " ‘m okay Sammy. Well, kinda. Theres a uh,, a man with me.”

“WHAT?! PHEONIX PUT ME ON SPEAKER RIGHT NOW!”

“Ay, it's okay, he’s makin’ it sound a lot worse than it is,” The man chuckled. Pheonix laughed, almost falling from his sitting position. “It's alright, my name is Hudson Wheeler, I’ll share the location where we are now. I was walkin’ back to my car when I saw your friend here, someone must have roofied him.. Unless he took the drugs himself. Although, I haven't gotten much chat from him.”

Sammy’s breathing was heavy on the other line as he tried to decide whether to believe it. “Alright, alright, stay on the call and send me your location right now.” Hudson went into messages and selected the button to share the location, he waited for a moment before asking, “Have you got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Jesus Christ, Pheonix. Alright, how long can you stay with him for, Hudson?”

“As long as you need. You know, I can bring him anywhere if you need me to?”

“No, no, sorry, but no. I- I’ll collect him but it might take me a little while.”

“That's alright. No worries, I have all the time in the world.” Sammy let out a sigh of relief, “Uhm, thank you. Thanks for helping him and I’m sorry I was salty at the start. He’s just, well we've had some bad experiences when it comes to this stuff in the past.”

“Hey, it's all good! You're a great friend.”

“See you sooooon Ssssssammmmyyyyy,” Pheonix laughed.

“Mhm… see you soon.”

Sammy hung up and Hudson looked at Pheonix, shaking his head and chuckled.

Sammy rushed out to the driveway of their house and quickly hopped into his car, keys, wallet, water, phone. That's everything, they thought. They quickly turned on the engine and reversed out of the driveway. They pulled up a map on their phone and followed the directions that came up on the screen.

They put the volume of the radio on full volume and drove. He knew he was driving over the speed limit but he had to get to his friend. They had to. Their foot pressed down on the excelerator more than intended but they didn't notice.

They didn't notice until police sirens started to blare. “No! SHIT!” They slammed the steering wheel with all his force, making their palms turn red. They thought about just speeding and avoiding the police, but he had enough things that they could get caught for than that.

They growled and pulled over, running a hand through their hair. A policeman came over and tapped on the window. Sammy blew out a huff of air and pulled down the window, “Hey officer.”

The officer shone a flashlight into the car, making Sammy wince and cover their eyes. “HEY! Hands up slowly, no sudden movements.” “I'm s-sorry officer!”

“It's alright, now, do you know why I pulled you over?” The officer’s thick Southern accent spoke. “I'm sorry, I was going way above the speed limit, I just- I wasn't thinking, I just-” “Hey, hey, hey, no need to get wound up now alright?” Sammy nodded. “Alright, and where are you going to?”

Sammy thought for a moment, they couldn't give away too much. Pheonix had taken drugs. The last thing Sammy would want is their friend to get arrested!! “I uhm, I'm just going to pick up my friend.” “Mhmm, alright. Listen, you seem like a good person, although I am quite curious why you're out this late, but listen. Drive slower and focus, got it?” Sammy nodded quickly, “Y-yes officer, thank you so much officer, I promise it won’t happen again.” The police officer chuckled slightly, “It's alright, safe drive.” “You too.”

The officer patted the window and smiled and Sammy drove off. Slow, slow, easy, calm, relax. They looked to the map, fifteen minutes.

Hudson looked over to Pheonix who was now lying on the ground, eyes wide as he looked up at night sky. Tears streamed down his face. “Hey now, why are you crying?” Pheonix licked his dry lips and shrugged. He could see streaks of pink and green in the sky, he guessed Hudson couldn't see them.

Hudson dug into his backpack, “Ah, I knew I had it!” He took out a water bottle, “Here, sit up.” He supported Pheonix’s back and helped him sit up. He brought the water bottle to Pheonix’s lips and gently tipped the water.

Pheonix was fully leaning against Hudson for support. He gulped the water quickly and whined as Hudson took the bottle away. “Hey, I cant have ya gettin sick alright?” Pheonix whined but nodded. He then turned his body with a groan and cuddled into Hudson as he shivered.

Hudson sighed as he looked at Pheonix, “What are ya doin’ to yourself, lad?” He shielded his eyes as bright lights suddenly shone. “Looks like your friend is here. Hey, wake up.” Hudson slowly stood up, carrying Pheonix by the shoulders with him.

Sammy rushed out of their car and dashed over to Pheonix, “Oh my god, Pheonix, you idiot! Here, can you help me get him into the car please?” “Of course.”

The pair guided Pheonix to the backseat and laid him across the back. Sammy closed the door and sighed. Hudson gave him a sympathetic smile. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course, my pleasure. I would tell you ways to help him sober up, but I'm guessing this isn't your first rodeo,” He chuckled slightly.

Sammy huffed, “No, can't say it is. But seriously, thank you. Listen, this is all I got but please take it,” Sammy handed a fifty dollar bill to Hudson. “No, hey, that's not necessary at all!”

“No, no, please take it.”

Hudson sighed and took it, “Thank you.”

“Can I give you a lift back home at all?” Hudson smiled, “Oh that's so kind, my car is actually only five minutes away but thank you.”

“Of course -no of course.”

“Well, you better get that laddo home, hm?” “Yes, yes. Thank you.”

Sammy got back into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. They looked in the mirror and saw Pheonix asleep. They smiled and closed his eyes for a moment. No, no, get home and then sleep. They widened his eyes and put their hands back on the steering wheel.

The drive home was fine. Sammy didn't play the radio to ensure Pheonix could rest. They kept at the right speed too, they couldn't get pulled over again. They yawned and blinked hard for a few moments.

Once the car pulled into the driveway, Sammy helped Pheonix into their house. Pheonix groaned but Sammy ignored him, “Hey, none of that now. Cmon, let's get you to your room.”

They tucked Pheonix into the guest room’s bed and left a basin on the ground just incase. “Rest up,” they whispered. “G’niiiiiiiiiight,” Pheonix chuckled.

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