#this is for two MAYBE three people and i am one of them

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[kurizz]

Pink Poly Club (miromabby)

Summary: It's what happens after Huntrix and Saja boys' joint fansign event. Mira is annoyed at the trending hashtags online, she sees their fans shipping her with SB Romance and Abby. Their manager, thinking it'd be a good idea, organized another joint fansign event the next day.

Word Count: 773

-----

Mira snatched Bobby's phone out of his hands, fuming at the edited pictures she saw. "What's this? Pink Poly Club? No way am I being lumped in with those boys!" She handed the phone back.

Zoey was internally squealing.

"Me and Mystery? Like—" She caught the scary look on Mira's face and quickly backtracked. "I mean, ew, why? He's so NOT my type."

With an exasperated sigh, Mira ran a finger through her hair.

"Should I just dye my hair a different color? Ugh, like hell I would. Why’d they have to have the same color as me?"

"You look better anyway!" Zoey encouraged, flailing her arms. "Don't let them get to you. I’m not letting Mystery get to me, too... although, he is kind of my type—I mean, who said that!"

Bobby tried to get a word in, but the girls were too busy complaining. He didn’t even know where Rumi had gone—she’d just suddenly left. It wasn’t rare for the girls to get chaotic, but that didn’t make it any easier.

"But isn’t this great? It’s what the fans want. Maybe it’d be a good idea to have another one tomorrow..." he trailed off, thinking it might not be such a bad idea.

Oh well. Why not?

And so, here they were: another Huntrix x Saja Boys fansign event, with the same seating arrangement as yesterday. The fans were coming in hot—it even looked like there were more of them this time. Some wore miromabby shirts and held up edited ship posters.

"Hey, it’s nice seeing you again." Romance wrapped his arms behind Mira’s chair, leaning slightly at her side. From the corner of her eye, she could see some fans going wild. She ignored him and looked the other way—only to find Abby already staring. He grinned in that boyish charm of his, also leaning in close. "Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but here we are."

Her heart skipped a beat but she snapped out of it, shaking her head. She faced forward and shoved both guys' faces away from her. The fans were in a ruckus, and she couldn’t understand why.

With furrowed brows, she greets the first fan that comes up. Great, he's wearing a miromabby shirt.

"Cool shirt you got there. I don't remember taking it though." Abby commented, giving the guy a thumbs up.

Of course, he doesn't remember. It was clearly fake. A photoshopped picture of them with the two guys wrapping their arm on Mira's shoulders and she just had to be in the middle.

She furiously signed another fans poster, but doesn't forget to smile and thank them after. Abby and Romance won't stop staring at her and taking up her space.

"Can you two not?" Mira muttered under her breath.

Abby straightened with a dramatic sigh. "I don't like the number two. Let's be three instead."

"Oh my god," Mira groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I’m going to lose it."

Romance leaned back in his chair. "Can’t blame us nor the fans for having good taste."

"You do make a good centerpiece for a love triangle," Abby added.

Heat crawled up to her face and she glared at them both.

"Go bother someone else," she snapped, grabbing a sharpie and aggressively signing the next fan’s poster. The poor girl looked simultaneously thrilled and terrified.

Abby pouted, "Why would we? Don't wanna."

A sudden squeal erupted from the line of fans. A group of them were holding up a massive printed banner: "MiRoMAbby FOREVER 💖"—complete with photoshopped wedding photos and glittery pink text.

Zoey peeked over. "Whoa. That’s, like, next-level editing. I almost believed it was real."

"Don’t say it out loud! They’ll think it’s encouragement!"

These people had Mira stressed out. She glanced at the other end of the table where Rumi and Jinu was in. It was impossible to spot Rumi from the way Jinu was blocking her view with his back. Why's that guy all over her?

"You really should be focusing," Romance took her hand that's holding the pen and guided it to sign the next poster. Their fingers interlocked.

His hand was warm, and it was creeping up to her body. Romance doesn't let go. He stared at her face, taking in the faint blush on her cheeks despite her frown.

"Hey..." He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "You should come with us after this."

"Shut up." She whispered back harshly, hating how her heart was now beating wildly.

Abby twisted his finger on her hair, playing with it softly. "Pay me some attention too, Mira."

Oh, someone help her.

________

click for part 2

________

first time I posted here. i had the sudden urge and here we are. that's my short contribution to this ship. might write more.

also, idk but huntrix songs>>>saja boys songs for me. their vocals are insaneeee. gotta give my girls more love cus what. their songs on repeat 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter | 13 |

PART THIRTEEN 💖 Dad!Price & Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader. 3k+ words

Previous parts -> [series masterlist]

TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

🔈Readers view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

| Please be aware that manipulative people are really good at twisting the narrative to look good and make others look bad! They know their targets, can be two completely different people that you wouldn’t realise what goes on behind closed doors. Trigger warning: LENA!! |

Lena’s POV:

Vodka lemonade. Lena Marston’s drink of choice, a companion she’d kept since her teen years. Where John had whisky, she had vodka and a kid, you. She likes to think that she’s a decent mother, enough to prepare you for the bad people in this world. You’re resourceful, a tad hopeful but it always works in her favour. So desperate for love that you believe every word she coats with sugar and when she does snap, you’re reminded of the harsh reality. Lena’s a realist, taking things for what they are. Whereas you’re an idealist, hoping that those around you will change for the better. That your mother will stop drinking and choosing men over you. That your father will come back and make everything right. As if taking her youth wasn’t enough, you’re still causing trouble for her now.

She thought she raised you better, maybe you are your father’s daughter. Someone who thinks they can change the world. Nobody changes, it’s laughable to imagine John any different, but as he sits opposite her with a non-alcoholic drink she can’t help, but laugh.

It’s been years since Lena’s seen John, a few phone calls here and there to lay the foundations. To complain about you, ask John when he’s going to pick his daughter up and have a word. Such an ungrateful girl. John’s age hasn’t ruined his looks, a head full of thick hair and beard. Doesn’t have to cover the grey hairs, dye his roots every month to appear younger. He’s not the one carrying stretch marks on his stomach or a scar from birthing you.

“Well how’s the wife, John? The boy…you always wanted a boy,” Lena asks, swirling the vodka around in her glass, ice cubes clinking together. She can’t remember the kids age or name and doesn’t care much to be honest. She’s thankful that she never had another.

John nods, “yep, all good. A three year old girl too.” His fingers drum against the table, sipping his beer without breaking eye connect with Lena.

Oh, that must ruin you. No longer daddy’s little girl and now you see John being the present dad that you’d only dreamt of growing up with. Another fantasy Lena told you to let go of years ago. Dreams don’t come true for girls like you.

He's not bothered to shred his jacket or remove the knitted scarf around his neck. Still the same man, gaze trailing Lena's features for any tells. John always reading too much into things or people and getting lost in the tiny details. Trying to connect them, losing the bigger picture completely. Not everything has to be so complex.

"You took money from our kid?"

And there it is…

Lena scoffs, “my kid, John. Ain’t seen you raising her.” She slams the glass to the table and points to her chest, sharp red nails jabbing herself and reminding him that she was there, not him. He’s always been too proud, wanting to be seen as a good and decent man. And in some ways maybe he is.

John leans back in his chair, gaze on his beer as if he wondering if it’s half full or half empty. There’s no way you’ve told him, he’d probably be less calm now than if you had. No, he doesn’t know everything and as per usual you’ve made it too easy for Lena. She’d thank you, but she doesn’t want to ruin the surprise. That or let you craft an excuse or hint at the truth.

“She didn’t tell ya? Of course she wouldn’t,” Lena chuckles, chasing the last remnants of her drink, vodka and lemon not as strong with the melting ice. “That ungrateful little shit stole that money from me, the last time she went back to him.” She sniffs, back of her hand swiping her nose. Her eyes sting, lashes clumping with tears and she feels the weight of John’s hand on top of hers. A heaviness she hasn’t had in years, but she’s laying the foundations. Dropping little pieces for John to pick up, make him overthink and draw his own conclusions. Anything to get him off her back.

His thumb brushes over her knuckles, light and soothing. “I didn’t know,” John says and Lena dares to glance up at him, his hand retreating back to his lap.

Phase one, plant a seed of doubt. Turn a bad thing sour. The moneys technically hers anyways, for all those years she had to raise you on her own. It’s not easy bringing a kid up without a father or the usual bricks and mortar. Half the time you were the reason Lena had to pack up her life again and search for the next place to settle. And as you grew older she noticed the way men’s eyes lingered on you instead of her. You were the one picking her up off the floor though, dragging her into the shower and sobering her up. You looked after her better than any man had and she wondered where you’d learnt that from. It wasn’t her, maybe that’s why Lena can’t stand you. She’s never been cut out to be a mother, didn’t have one like that either. So, how can you care for her better than she can?

Sometimes she sees her younger self in you and it twists her insides. A poison that coats the back of her throat, weighing on her tongue that she resorts to unleashing that venom on you. Lena tries not to think of being a teen with a toddler, lying on a mattress as you scream a fever. She can still hear those cries in the depths of a night terror, because to her you were a terror. No life and isolated from everything she once knew. The week days merging together till John called on a Saturday or Sunday, offering Lena a piece of her old self. His money the one thing giving her life.

Your teen years are what she loathed most. Lena refused to get you certain clothes, bought you a size too big so it swamped your body and said it would save her money in the long run. You are your mother’s daughter after all, she doesn’t want to compliment or encourage you in fear you’ll do better than her. There’s that spec of your father though, the spark of fire you strike back whenever one of her boyfriends tried to lay down the law. Never did learn.

“Fancy a smoke?” Lena asks, pulling a pack menthol cigarettes from her handbag. She slings her coat over her shoulders and smiles as John nods.

Another distraction, a break between the forced conversation and Lena wonders if you’d smell the lingering scent when John gets home. It’s distinct, something you despised.

The rain pelts on the awning outside the pub, wind whipping through the patio and Lena wades through the tables to heater. A warm orange glow illuminating above johns head as he stands in front of her and lights her cigarette, he reluctantly accepts one of her menthol ones, sparking the end alight with hers. He hates the smell of mint and tobacco merged, but Lena knows he’s too stressed not to smoke. His fingers have been twitching against his pint glass since he sat down an hour ago.

If he wasn’t married and loyal like a dog, she’d probably sleep with him. Anything to get him off her back. You’d definitely leave if you knew she’d had her claws back in him. The one scrap of hope you hold onto, John.

John exhales a cloud of smoke, head tilted as he watches the wind carry the fog away. “How much?” He asks, turning the cigarette in his hold.

“Don’t matter, we sorted it out. She’s an adult now John, needs to learn there’s consequences. Lord knows she should’ve learnt ‘em six bloody years ago,” Lena says, flicking her ash into the nearest tray on the table. She glances to John out of the corner of her eye, the muscle in his jaw flexing at the mention of six years ago. A testy subject for all involved, especially you. A turning point that solidified your hatred for John.

“Spit it out Lena,” he snaps, never one to beat around the bush with her. Hook-line and sinker. “You and her are always dangling that in my face, but I’m yet to be told what actually happened.” His nose wrinkles as he takes another drag of his cigarette, eyes narrowed at Lena.

His gaze doesn’t waver from her face, she’s not even sure he’s breathing as he waits for the verbal blow. Ash burning his fingers. He doesn’t want to miss anything.

“You really wanna know your kid?” Lena cocks her to the side, arched brow rising. He nods, crushing the cigarette under his boot. “She was arrested for the possession of drugs at fifteen, John. Went to a young offenders institute for months until I managed to get the charges dropped.”

John opens his mouth, but she waves him off. She relays the details, telling him of that night and the months that followed, answering his questions in between. Exaggerating certain parts to prove a point, that you’re not the good kid he thinks you are.

“That boyfriend of hers, you can thank him. She gave me hell for years John, I don’t blame you. I know you were working that huge case and couldn’t be home, but I did my best,” she says, wiping the salty tears rolling down her cheeks and leaning into john’s embrace as he wraps an arm around her. Too easy.

"I'm here now, let me help," he says, palm smoothing up and down her arm. She tucks her head under his chin and wraps her arms around his torso. It’s like she’s a teen again, clinging to John for warmth.

Lena releases a trembling breath. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s still using. You know those mood swings and lashing out,” she mumbles into his chest. He tenses, slipping out of her hold and stepping back.

“What really happened between the two of you?” He asks, leaning down to try and catch her wandering gaze. “Kid, can’t even talk about ya’ without…”

“She’ll bleed you dry John and be gone before you realise,” Lena’s voice muffled, cigarette balancing between her lips as she dug through her handbag. “Your kids actual phone number, she’s got two.” She hands him a faded receipt, blue ink smeared on the crumpled paper.

John’s POV:

John thought if he saw Lena face to face he’d know, some sort of gut instinct to untangle the mess in his head. Dad intuition or whatever it’s called, but he doesn’t have that with you not yet. If anything, all he’s sees in Lena is you. You can’t be doing drugs, he checked your bag whilst you were in the hospital and if you had Toff would have added it to your medical notes. The mood swings, John knows are more trauma related. If Lena is lying what does she gain from doing so?

The smudged ink of your second phone number burns a hole in his pocket. Already stored in his contacts list just incase. He’s not going to bring it up with you either, knowing you’ll get rid of it and he won’t be able to reach you one day.

The mist of rain blurs John’s surroundings outside his truck. Window cracked open a fraction as he tries to get rid of the fogged up glass, old heater ticking away. Your bedroom light is still on, but John doesn’t want to enter the res house, not till he’s got his head sorted and he’s prepared. The last thing he wants it to scare or push you away. He knows if he reaches out too fast and close, you’ll withdraw. Maybe even leave him and never look back. Part of him doesn’t want to dig up that police report, it’s probably been cleared off your record by now as you were a minor and the charges were dropped. Doesn’t mean he’s not thinking about it though. His stomach twisting as he realises how alone you must have felt and he now understands why you think he wasn’t there for you. He knows he wasn’t there.

Lena’s minty scent clings to his clothes, he can smell it on his moustache and fingertips. The alcohol gel in his car not giving him much help, if anything he doesn’t even think it has a particular aroma to it. He curses himself for leaving his cigars back in his office, locked away in the top drawer. Meeting Lena wasn’t planned, the whole evening throwing him off as he sat in his truck at three in the morning. The missed calls on his phones unanswered, he’d warned Angie of that though and wasn’t expecting her to ring anytime soon. No, Simon’s number appears in the chain of notifications, on and off for the past two hours. A text of his return soon, always giving him an estimated arrival.

The next op isn’t his main worry though, but it should be. He hates to think it. There’s a niggling feeling that if John goes away now, you might not be home when he returns. The thought alone making him not want to have the have the talk. He has to though. A light tap against the glass draws him out of his thoughts and he rolls the window down. One skeleton gloved hand rests against the truck as Simon leans down to greet John.

“Work or the kid?” Simon asks, his gaze flitting to the line settling between johns brows as if he already knows. He wrinkles his nose, swaying in his spot as if the stench of minted tobacco has just invaded the thin layer of his mask. The cheapest cigarettes that are supposed to be left on the shelves, well that’s what Simon says.

John nudges his head to the passenger seat, watching Simon circle the truck and open the door. The old vehicle rocking as he fell into the seat and closed the door lightly. John’s lost count of how many times he’s had to fit the handle back on whenever Simon slams the door. The engine sputters to life and they don’t say anything till they’re out of the military base. Nothing but the open road and the darkness wrapping around them.

“Went to see Lena,” John says, the red light glaring at him and he slams the brakes, both of them lurching forward in their seats.

“And you came back with more questions than answers?” Simon replies, raising a blond brow at the captain. He’s never been a fan of John’s ex.

John fills him on the evening and everything Lena told him. Simon silent, nodding along as he listened. John can’t help, but see you in another light now and he tells Simon so. His mind wandering back to the shattered lamp, did you knock it off or break it? He knows you’re lying about your mum and he hopes you’ll pluck up the courage to confide in him. He doesn’t even want to go into the whole Johnny and you situation with Simon, he’s not ready for that yet. The one thing he definitely has to pull you up on.

“I just don’t know what to think,” John mumbles, fingers pressing against his temple and the dull pulsating ache. The past few weeks were weighing on him, work escalating and your unpredictable moods around him made him try ten times harder to accommodate your needs. Lowering his voice, stepping back and offering you more space in hopes you’ll come to him. He can’t keep saying later with you. He’s running out of time.

“She’s gotta have a reason to lie,” Simon pauses, holding a hand up and silencing John before he can offer his thoughts. “Think about it, she’s not had a stable upbringing and well, you don’t know the full story. You need to talk to the kid before you jump to conclusions.”

John nods, looping back round the streets and driving to the military base. The back of his throat burns, mouth dry as Simon’s words sink in. He doesn’t have all the information and you deserve to be heard. He owes you that much.

The truck rolls to a stop outside the res house, the light from your bedroom off. John removes the keys and holds them in his palm, elbow on the door panel. Simon exits the truck, walking round to johns side and he reaches over the door and pops the handle down opening it for him.

“Take a breather, then talk to her. It’s all fresh and amplified mate, just don’t interrogate the kid. With the right questions you’ll be able to figure out the situation.” Simon nods, advice given and he disappears down the gravel path to the main building without another glance.

John's lucky to get two hours sleep, giving up as soon as the sunlight filters through the blinds. He makes his bed as usual, tucking the sheets under the mattress and sits on the edge. His suitcase stares at him beside the chest of drawers, his fingers turning his wedding band deep in thought. He glances to the clock reading seven forty and he rises from the bed, pulling his door open.

He walks into your room, expecting the the door handle to rattle and the lock to click, but it swept wide open.

“Come on, up you get Kiddo,” John says, tugging the duvet off you. “You’re coming home with me, no discussion.” He tosses the flimsy duffle on your bed, pulling your clothes from the hangers in the wardrobe.

You catch the hoody he throws at you, mumbling under your breath as you shove it over your head and accept your fate. He thought you'd fight him on it, but he doesn't give you the chance to.

Lena stirring things up 🥴 johns going to have the talk with kiddo in the next part 🫡 please note I am dyslexic so there may be errors/mistakes. I do edit multiple times but miss out things - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie @elegancefr @jesskidding3 @thepowers-kat-be @frangiipanii @ye-olde-trash-panda @sleep101 @bluebarrybubblez @shitaaba @muraaaaaa @vajjaa @rafaelacallinybbay @jeannieboys @poetoflawed @idleviewer @darling006 @itsleeq

[vivwritesfics]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Four

Max and Charles aren't exactly a pack. But they want to be, especially when the half feral little werewolf starts driving in Carlos's place after an injury. Unfortunately, things aren't always that simple

Lestappen X Reader Werewolf AU

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

"You're okay, Beastie. You did good."

It hadn't been an easy race for either Ferrari driver. You and Charles had both struggled, through no fault of your own, during the race. The strategy was shit and the car struggled on track.

"You're okay, Beastie," your handler said, combing her fingers through your hair. "You can stop now. You can breathe."

She was trying to calm you down, Charles realised as he watched you.

Beastie. What an awful nickname, simply awful. Charles watched as your handler handed you earbuds. Your hands shook as you placed them into your ears, a whimper leaving your lips.

Beastie. You weren't a beast. Charles could see it, and he was sure that everybody else could see it, too. You weren't a beast; you just wanted to be free.

He strode across the garage, strode over to you. "What're you listening to?" He asked, his voice soft.

A whimper left your lips and you clawed at your shock collar. "Woah, woah," he whispered and grabbed a hold of your hands, stopping you from hurting yourself. "You're okay, Birdy."

Birdy. Charles wasn't very sure where it came from, but it felt right. It suited you. Birdy. You just wanted to be free. Free as a bird. Another noise left your lips, one that Charles was unable to place. "Wanna tell me what you're listening to?" He asked and pushed your hair out of your face.

You wouldn't answer. Charles knew this, he wasn't expect you to open your mouth to answer, but to somehow communicate it to him. Maybe pull your earbud from your ear and offer it too him instead.

Your handler stepped forward. "She discovered your music last night," she said and nodded to Charles. "She finds it's calming, so I thought it might help take her out of 'Race Space'."

"Race Space?"

Race Space. The headspace you went into as soon as you were in the car. It left you acting on instinct, going for every gap and having no self preservation. It would have been terrifying to watch, if you had anybody that cared about you."

"She likes my music?" Charles couldn't stop himself from answering as he looked at you. You liked his music. At that very moment, you were listening to his music. "Birdy," he whispered, unable to stop himself from grinning.

Charles couldn't help but think about it for the next few hours. As he flew back to Monaco, sharing a jet with Pierre. Maybe one day you could share a jet with them, too. But you weren't in the position for a private jet yet. Once you were a proper driver, no longer driving in the place of an injured Carlos, Charles would take you everywhere in his private yet, he decided.

And then you'd be flying. As free as a bird.

"You're attached," Max said as he watched Charles.

Sitting at the piano, Charles couldn't stop himself from thinking about you. He pressed a couple of the keys, no song really coming from it. "I am," he confirmed, giving a small nod. "I really am, Max."

Max released a sigh as he walked over. He slipped onto the bench beside Charles and wrapped his arms around him. "What're we gonna do about it?" He asked.

"I don't know, Max," Charles answered through a sigh. "I really don't know."

***

Home. A small room with several locks on the door to keep people safe from you. Locked in, Charles's music playing on a loop. This was better, you knew. You locked away from the rest of the world.

Birdy.

You had been a beast for so long that Birdy felt weird. Weird, but not exactly wrong. Birdy, because you wanted to fly away and be free. Birdy was fitting, you realised.

Birdy.

You liked it. Really liked it. Far better than Beasty. A beast was what you had been turned into, not what you wanted to be. You were never supposed to be a beast and you no longer wanted to be one.

Birdy.

The music stopped and you released a whimper. Tapping at the iPod screen, you got the music playing again, the piano filling the room. Your eyes closed as you laid back on your bed, holding your pillow against your chest.

Charles was nice. He was real nice, in a way nobody but your handler had been before. Why had you tried to bite him? Why had you acted out like that? But, still, he was sweet to you. Sweet, even after you had attempted to attack him.

You wouldn't, not again. You wouldn't attack the next time he was nice to you. It was easy to picture it in your mind, your muzzle removed as you hugged Charles, nuzzling yourself against his chest. But you were looking at it through rose coloured glasses.

It wouldn't be as simple as not attacking and you knew that. The reaction was involuntary: You couldn't help it. Couldn't stop yourself from lashing out and trying to hurt him. 

You couldn't wait for the next race weekend. 

"Birdy," you whispered to yourself and started his music again. "Birdy. Birdy. Birdy." 

You didn't have to wait long, just a week. That week you spent training, in the gym, listening to your trainer like an obedient dog. When she said run, you ran. When she said lift, you lifted. 

There was just one reason why you didn't like the gym. It allowed you to let out your aggression in a way that stopped anybody from getting hurt. But the collar around your neck and the muzzle attached to your face made the gym uncomfortable, skin beneath them prickling. 

On the Tuesday, you flew to Miami. You were sedated for the entirety of the flight. It didn't take away your fear, just stopped you from acting on it. 

You woke up in the taxi on your way to the hotel. How disorienting it was, to suddenly regain conscious in a different part of the world, so similar to your home, yet somehow different. 

You panicked. Not enough to hurt anybody in the car with you. But your nails dug into your palms, pressing deep enough to draw blood.

"Enough of that, Beasty," your handler commented and patted your knee. Maybe she was trying to give you comfort. Whatever it was, it didn't help.

She got you into the hotel, her grip on your sleeve acting as a leash. As soon as she had your key (she always kept your room key. It was almost a threat: If you left you couldn't get back in), she led you to the stairs. 

No lifts, you were too feral for that. They were too much like cages, and you didn't do cages. 

“Rest, little Beast,” she said as you placed your bags in your room. Rest. You've done enough resting already. You didn't need anymore rest. “I'll come get you in the morning.”

Taglist: @remussbitch

@mimisweetz

@usseraloo

@trashmouthsahra

[kitkat5628]

I need Bat writers and Titans writers to get it together and communicate, please.

I understand the writers have their preferences. Bat writers probably prefer DickBabs while Titans writers prefer DickKory, but I'M BEGGING if one editorial is making one of the couple canon, can't the other one tone down the flirting or implications??😭

I also understand "feeding" the fans, especially DickKory ones since they're not the current couple but can't they use... Like... Elseworlds? Same for DickBabs. If Dick and Barbara were to break up and Dick would start dating Kory again, I'd rather have them in elseworlds instead of flirting or implications in main canon.

Dick Grayson character is already often mistaken as a cheater because of... That annual, shudders.

Why would they make it worse..?🫠

You can give us content for both ships to make everyone happy by giving us flashbacks or elseworlds stuff (Kami Garcia's books are currently the best example. They're so cute in that and it's an elseworld, fans of both ships are getting "fed" and happy), why making it seem like he's cheating or not "committing" (?) to his partner? It feels so disrespectful for all three characters idk.

Can't they talk it out like "if you're writing about the main continuity keep in mind that Dick is dating Babs/Kory so don't write some certain stuff"??

And again I understand they must have their preferences but it can't be that hard to write Dick and Babs or Dick and Kory as close friends? Like, I always say DickKory is good but not my thing: I'd still be able to write them as friends, same for Babs. While I heavily ship her and Dick, I wouldn't have problems in writing them as close friends with funny banters, without having to include romance.

I keep hearing from others that Dick is a cheater because of the annual or him flirting with Kory while dating Babs — probably meaning the Titans Academy thing. And following the timeline, apparently, he and Babs weren't together. But Taylor was indeed writing them with the intentions of getting them together at that time, so why the need of writing that part of the story???

Before being a fan of the ship, I'll always be a Dick Grayson fan first, and I can't blame people for thinking he's a cheater if writers keeps pulling inconsistent stuff😭😭

Or like the recent cover, where they put Dick and Kory but always include Garfield. Like... There's no need to put Garfield to make it platonic. You can just draw them as close but not in a romantic way, and if people want to ship them it's not the artist fault and canonically no one's doing weird stuff.

It didn't even look like a romantic cover, just two friends (and exes who are still close) getting a coffee together. Compared to Dick and Barbara's covers you can feel the difference.

I just wish they were more consistent.

If Dick is dating one girl, don't make him flirt with the other one, it's so bad for the three characters, especially for Dick who's getting the "cheater" flair.

Am I just imagining things, is it just me?? Like it could be, maybe I'm just not sleeping enough again (it's almost been a day)💔

[salmoninnit]

Wish You Stayed

ex!satoru gojo x reader x crush?!choso kamo pt. 1 - pt. 2

The sound of your phone buzzing awoke you from your sleep, with a groan you reach for it and open your eyes slightly. 

Satoru: Morning, you fell asleep in the car and wouldn’t wake up. I brought you upstairs and made sure to lock up before leaving. I left some alka-seltzer pills that are on your bedside table. Feel better

Same old Satoru as he was before, caring and considerate towards you even after not speaking for years. A part of you wanted to see this as a good thing but another part felt like you can’t just go back. People change in 3 years, you’ve changed in 3 years.

Nothing ever can be the same, it can only get better or worse. 

A part of you from last night wanted to see how things played out with Choso while another part of you wanted to run back to Satoru. 

You: morning, thank you for bringing me up and for the tablets. my head is pounding

He instantly replied to your message.

Satoru: Yea of course, need anything else to feel better?

You bit your lip, you wanted to ask for something just to see him. But you knew better to do that to yourself. Him being here, taking care of you? It was asking to become putty in his hands and with how shitty you feel, it’d work and rewire everything. 

You: no ill be fine! thank you for offering :) Satoru: Okay, just let me know if you do

You thumbs up the message and toss your phone on the bed. It was 10 am and thankfully you didn’t have plans. You reluctantly got up and grabbed the tablets he left for you. Letting them sizzle in the water as you go to the bathroom. 

Splashing water in your face after you freshened up felt like falling into a cold pool. You shivered as you patted your face dry. Heading back to your room you drank the water. Feeling a little less groggy as you climbed back into bed. Playing some random youtube video and laying down. 

You don’t know how long it took but you were again awoken by a buzzing from your phone. Sighing you flip it over and see it’s 2 pm and the buzzing was now a text from a random number. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey it’s Choso. did you make it home safe last night? 

A flutter appeared in your stomach as you smiled. Adding his contact and replying back. 

You: hey! yea i did, a friend dropped me off. i drank so much, im suffering the consequences of my own actions Choso: i’m glad to hear you made it safe. how much did you end up drinking for you to feel that bad?  You: i lost count after my fourth round of shots and 3 drinks deep tbh Choso: one hell of a reunion for you and your friends huh?

You giggled as you tried to recount how many drinks you actually had. Kento’s beer, a mojito, two drinks with Choso, 2 shots, another mojito, another shot, another mojito, and maybe 3 other shots? No way you drank that much, your bank account shall suffer and you shall not check it. 

You: yea it was. i’ve seen most of them except one throughout these past three years and so this was the first time we were all together since highschool Choso: that’s nice, im glad you had fun. I had fun with you last night 

You feel your cheeks warm as you giggle. It really was nice talking to him, it was easy and he was kind but also intimidating. He was tall and built, probably not as tall as Suguru or Satoru. But his build definitely matched similar to theirs. 

You: i did too, would definitely take you up on that date you mentioned :P Choso: are you available tomorrow? 5 pm?  You: yea! what is the setting? how should i dress? Choso: anything you want, you’ll be pretty and fit in anywhere i have planned :) You: okay then, i’ll see you then :)

He hearts your message and you send your address to him. 

Either that alka-seltzer put in the work or the idea of a date with Choso made you feel so much better. 

You sigh as you look up at the ceiling, this was just the start of whatever will be your next few months of whatever the fuck is happening with Satoru and Choso. After 3 years of nothing romantic, all of a sudden two men appear. Even though Satoru hasn’t explicitly said he wants you (you saw him once, maybe you are a bit delusional), there was a feeling in your gut that said he does. The stares, the way he talks a bit quieter when he speaks to you, and the way he just is the old him when you were together. Less brash and nowhere near as affectionate (for obvious reasons), he still looked at you the same way he did before. 

You don’t know if he ever stopped looking at you that way, even when breaking up. Yea it was on mutual terms but the look in his eyes as you agreed to it, held every emotion he still carried for you. 

And he still carried that look in his eyes 3 years later. 

A part of you yearned for it, wish you spoke to him sooner. But you didn’t dare to reach out and neither did he. So what was the point? Still being in love with your high school sweetheart, mutual affection both ways but at the same time, you both loved old versions of each other. 

What if we changed so drastically and once found out, it wasn’t there? Would there be a point in bringing up old emotions from a previous time? From previous versions of you?

You didn’t know and didn’t want to think about it much longer.

So you let the day move on, eating and resting. The alcohol killed you but at least you hadn’t thrown up. Pretty sure the alka-seltzer really did work overtime for you. 

Lounging on your couch at 8 pm, playing a tv show and laying on your side. A knock on your door echoed through the apartment as you lowered the volume of the tv. You made your way to the door and looked through the peephole. On the other side stood Satoru, wearing a hoodie with digimon character and jeans. Your heart did a small flip as you opened the door. 

“Hey”, you said with a smile. 

“Hey, sorry for showing up like this. Wasn’t sure if you had eaten and was in the area. So I got you your favorite - or old favorite pho”, Satoru said as he held up a bag from your favorite spot. 

“It’s okay, thank you. Come in”, you say as you move aside for him to walk in. He takes off his shoes and makes his way to the table. He starts taking out the pho containers and setting them up, then he sits casually in the chair just like he used to before, like it was second nature for him.  

You shut the door and make your way to the fridge, grabbing two sodas, one coke and one dr pepper. Proceeding to the table as you sat across from him, placing the coke in front of him and grabbing your portion of the food. 

“I got you the same as before, hope you didn’t switch that”, he laughed as he opened his container. Popping the top part out and dumping it onto the noodles. Then filling the container with broth. You followed suit and let the noodles soften. 

“You know you didn’t have to do this right?”, you say as you look at him. He’s adorning a smile and now you take notice he isn’t wearing his glasses. His eyes are set on you and speaking a million words. 

“I know but it felt like a nice thing to do, plus I haven’t seen you in ages. Thought it’d be nice to just hang out”, he says as he looks down at his soup. Satoru had debated this for hours since the morning. He was hoping you’d tell him you need something, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat to see you again. Even though he doesn’t feel like he has that right anymore, he was willing to do anything to make it be his right again. 

“This is nice, I honestly was craving this after my shitty excuse for food earlier. Made a burnt grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup from a can”, you laugh as you stir your noodles around, breaking them from their mold of a circle. 

“You could’ve asked, I told you just to let me know”, he says softly as he mimics your actions with the soup. He cracks open his drink and takes a sip from it. “Still remember my likes, like I remember yours”.

“Well hard to forget when we ate and drank much of the same things back then”, you laugh and start eating your pho. 

“Fair enough, it’s like it’s embedded into my brain”, Satoru says as he starts eating. 

You fell into a silence of eating and the only thing being heard was the tv and you two eating. It felt domestic, it felt like it did before. The time changed and yet you’re still here, sitting across each other in the same way, eating the same foods you two would get, and being comfortable with each other. 

As you were finishing your pho, your phone rang on the table. You glanced at it and saw Choso’s name at the top. You inhaled and grabbed it quickly. 

“Sorry I’ll be right back”, you say as you get up and make your way to your room. 

“Hey!”, you exclaim as you make your way into your room. 

Satoru’s ears perked up at how happy you sounded. He had seen the name on your phone and by your reaction, it had to be the guy from last night. With a small groan he threw his head back. Competition wasn’t new for him, he’s always been competitive and good - no great - at everything he did. But he had never dealt with competition when it came to you. 

Having met on your first days of highschool, you two were both nerds. Relating on interests and hobbies, staying up waiting on drop dates for games or going out and buying ridiculous anime items. It was natural for you two to end up liking each other, even your friends saw it before you two did. They bet on how long it’d take for someone to make a move, it wasn’t until before the ending of freshman year that anything was said to one another. 

He confessed first like a lovesick puppy, he had seen you get hit on by some guy in another class. It was the first time he saw you blush at anyone other than him. He felt a sickening feeling in his stomach, at the thought of losing you, at the thought of you being with someone else.

And that’s when he realized he had liked you. He had rushed over to you and told you some lie to pull you away from the guy. He had dragged you outside to where you two would hangout after school with your friends but usually after they left, you two would linger there. 

“I need to tell you something”, he said nervously as he balled his hands into fists. 

“Okay what is it ‘Toru?”, you spoke lightly with a tilt of your head. Eyebrows furrowed as you stared up at him. 

“I-I like you. I don’t know how long I’ve liked you for and maybe it was the first time you smiled at me. O-Or when you gave me my keychain for my phone, or when you laughed at my joke the first week of class. Maybe I’ve liked you from the moment I got to know you. But I just know I like you. More than anyone else, more than my favorite digimon character”, he utters as he averts your gaze. 

You had stood there in awe, shock, and pure bliss. 

“Toru…I like you too. I didn’t think you’d like me back but looking back I might be a bit stupid from not realizing it”, you laugh as he shot his head back to look at you. You were looking down as he stared wide eyed. He didn’t think you’d reject him but at the same time he didn’t think you really did like him.

“Oh..I-I honestly don’t know why I didn’t think you’d like me too. Maybe we're both a little stupid here”, he laughs as he reaches for your hands, embracing them with both of his. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You gaze up at him with a saccharine smile, eyes crinkling from how genuine it is. “Really?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Yes really stupid. I think if you don’t answer I’ll bury myself 6 feet under”.

“Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend Satoru”, you giggle as you pull your hands away from his and hug him. He reflexively wrapped his arms around you and picked you up with a spin. You laugh out and so does he. 

Shoko won the bet, she had said you’d two be together before the end of the school year. Kento and Yu had bet you’d get together by the beginning of the next semester. While Suguru thought it’s take another year for you two to even realize it by how stupid you both were to each others yearning. 

Satoru sighs as he replays the memory, he thinks about it far too often. Having replayed every detail from that day, the days before and after. His biggest regret was breaking up with you before college. You hadn’t grown apart, it was all the same but you both wanted to focus on college. He proposed the idea after seeing all the time he’d have with school and the family business, he didn’t find it fair to you to be unavailable constantly. It hurt him to even bring it up, to even think about it. 

But you understood, you wanted the both of you to be successful in your own ways. It crossed your mind but you never voiced it. When he brought it up, you wanted to say it’d be fine and you’d understand his time away. But you knew, it would ruin you two. The lack of seeing each other and affection you both couldn’t 100% show. Would make you two grow to resent it and resent each other for not trying harder. 

So you agreed. The no contact was to not be distracted, neither of you saw each other as distractions, but you both knew it’d turn into it. So there was no fighting, no lashing out; just acceptance. It killed you both and even 3 years later, after graduating and working, you both felt the same way for one another as you did then. 

Satoru tried to move on, tried to meet new people, tried to forget about you but everyone he met wasn't you. Everyone was shallow with no true personality, you were the only one he’d met that fit him like a puzzle. So he stopped trying, he’d get hit on but turn them down. 

Now watching you get excited over someone else was killing him. He wishes he’d come around sooner, yea you met this Choso guy last night but the way you had looked at him when you had talked to him in the bar, Satoru had only seen you look at him that way. 

He knew from Suguru that you hadn’t been with anyone else since him. He reveled in the fact that you hadn’t moved on from him.

As if you’d ever truly be able to move on from one another.

But this factor of running into someone who clicked with you like he once had, had him nervous. Had him on the brink of begging you to be with him. But he couldn’t.

It wouldn’t work, maybe before, back then it would’ve. But he can tell you changed, you’re not as you were before. Not lovesick for him like he was for you. 

He might be too late but that won’t stop him from trying. 

<<previous : next>>

so guess this is my first series on here, not sure if it'll be long or short but lets see how ill do

[lynncade]

5 Stages of Grief

zayne x reader angst. takes place after the events of the main chapter update. going through the 5 stages of grief after zayne leaves you.

Day 3 - Denial - 4:52 PM

You sit on a bench outside of Akso Hospital feeding breadcrumbs to Clopidogrel as people pass by in the late afternoon. Some cast sideways glances to the lone Deepspace Hunter feeding a squirrel, but after noting the puffiness of her cheeks and the far away expression on her face they quickly lose interest and turn away. 

“Miss Hunter, it’s nice to see you again. How are your wounds healing?”

You don’t startle at the sudden familiar voice. “Hello, Yvonne. I’m fine, and you?”

The woman’s shadow falls across your back as she hesitates before deciding to sit next to you. “I’m alright, thank you for asking.”

You two sit in silence for a while, a silence that is neither comfortable nor intrusive. It’s the type of quiet that feels like it’s building up to something, like a story where the ending is finalized but the middle part hasn’t been written. You both know why you aren’t speaking but whereas she doesn’t know how to start, you don’t want to. You can’t. Speaking of it makes it real and you can’t do real right now.

It’s only been three days, three days isn’t even enough time to make something real. So it can’t be real and since it can’t be real there’s nothing for you to talk about. You would be content to sit in silence for the rest of your life if it meant it wasn’t real.

She takes a breath. “You know, I remember your first appointment with-”

You stand abruptly. “I’m sorry, there’s somewhere I have to be right now.”

She stammers out an apology but you’ve already turned your back and started walking away. 

-

Day 18 - Anger - 1:43 AM

You’re pacing the livingroom, music blaring through your TV speakers to drown out the thoughts that still push you to stomp in circles. You can’t even hear what song is playing, Zayne’s words echoing over and over in your head.

“If I hurt you, that would be the greatest regret of my life.”

You snatch an open bottle of whiskey up from the coffee table and take a swig, at this point immune to the burn of the cheap liquid. Its fire pours down your throat and settles in your stomach, raging alongside your absolute fury at the man whose voice haunts every step you take.

He doesn’t care if he hurts you. If he cared he would be here, telling you that drinking this much on a stomach that’s been empty for two days is inadvisable and reckless. If he cared he’d be holding your hair back as you threw up everything but your stupid fucking memories, wiping your forehead with a damp rag and using his dumb dry humor to try to make you laugh. He’d help you change out of the clothes you’d been wearing since last Thursday and run a hot shower for you, maybe even throwing one of your fizzies in to create a calming atmosphere of eucalyptus scented steam. He’d have water and pain meds already on your nightstand and he’d chide you when you fought him like a child to take them. Then he’d make sure to tuck you into bed and slide in under the covers beside you when you asked him to keep you company.

“...the greatest regret of my life.”

SMASH!

The bottle of whiskey shatters in the kitchen sink, your hands shaking with the force of throwing it. You don’t care what the neighbors think about what they’re hearing, why the fuck should you care about anything when he doesn’t care about you.

You stare at the broken glass in your sink, hating the way the smell of whiskey now burns in your nostrils, the way the too-bright light of the kitchen catches the jagged edges. With a scoff you stalk back into the living room and drop onto the couch, praying that the buzz of the alcohol will finally start numbing the sting of abandonment.

After some amount of time- what's the difference between a second and an hour anymore?- you pick up one of the throw pillows, bring it to your face, and scream.

You scream.

And scream.

And scream.

But if he hears you, he still doesn’t care. He still doesn’t come back.

-

Day 27 - Bargaining - 9:32 PM

“The number you have dialed cannot take your call at this time. Please leave a message at the tone.”

BEEP!

“It’s me. I mean, you know it’s me, you can see my number in your list of missed calls. There should be several of them. Missed calls, not…not numbers. Unless there are multiple people calling you and that’s why you’ve been missing my calls…and not returning them. If or when you do get my message, this one or the 20 other ones, please give me a call back? Or a text? Or a voice memo? Fuck, even a smoke signal at this point. Just…just please send me something.”

Day 29 - Bargaining - 12:14 PM

“The number you have dialed cannot take your call at this time. Please leave a message at the tone.”

BEEP!

“I’m on my lunch break and headed to the hospital to feed Clopidogrel. I know you’re probably worried about him getting fat because I’ve been feeding him more than normal, but honestly I throw him food and he just sits there, like he’s also waiting for something. Or someone. You know, I bet if you came by to see him he’d perk right up! Forget Greyson and Yvonne, we both know the real draw to the hospital is this silly little squirrel. I think he misses you, you should come visit him sometime.”

Day 32 - Bargaining - 10:45 AM

“The number you have dialed cannot take your call at this time. Please leave a message at the tone.”

BEEP!

“This is the first morning I haven’t had a delivery from the pastry shop you love. They told me you had pre-bought a month’s worth of desserts to be sent to me, one each day. I think my favorite was either the chocolate hazelnut torte or the salted caramel macarons. I know you wouldn’t want to eat those because you don’t think salt has a place in sweets, but I think they were perfectly balanced. Maybe you should try them? Get outside your comfort zone a little bit? Tell you what, I’m headed to that bakery myself right now, you could meet me and I’ll buy some for you to try. Or really I’ll buy whatever you want, the whole pastry shop is your oyster, okay? Great, so I’ll see you soon.”

Day 40 - Bargaining - 11:29 PM

“The number you have dialed cannot take your call at this time. The mailbox is full and cannot take anymore messages. Good-bye.”

-

Day ??? - Depression

You wish he broke you.

Days and nights pass by and you wish through every second of it all that he had broken you, that you could say you had a broken heart. Explaining to friends and coworkers why you stopped going out, why tear streaks constantly painted your face, why your clothes no longer fit, explaining it all away by saying you had a broken heart would have been easy. Everyone has seen the movies, heard the songs. Broken hearts happen, hearts break and then they heal again. It may take time, but every wound eventually patches itself back up.

The problem is, he didn’t break you. Breaking you would mean there was something left to break. He didn’t break you when he left, he took you with him.

Mornings melted into afternoons that spilled into evenings and through it all you felt nothing anymore. Not in the numbing way, no you would give anything to be numb. You ache, mind, body, and soul, because you’re empty. There’s nothing left in you to give. To feel. No hope to cling to, no anger to sustain you. Sometimes you wish the world would swallow you up, suck you down into a well, deep and dark and as empty as you are. Sometimes you feel like you are the well, a black hole of nothing moving through life to survive, not to live.

Your phone has been dead for a few days now, the temptation to look at old pictures and text messages kept plaguing you and at some point even the self torture felt pointless. If work needs to reach you, the message can come through your comm watch. If anyone else needs to reach you, or cares to reach you, well…the important people know where you dwell.

The weather has been traitorously perfect, the abnormal snow from all those weeks ago completely forgotten as the sun shines and cool breezes drift through warm days. In the books and movies the weather always reflects the mood, so why does the sun continue to shine? Why do birds sing and children laugh right outside your window? Why does everything else in the world get to experience joy and life while you curl into yourself and freeze in darkness? A few weeks ago you would have screamed at it all until your throat felt raw but now you would be shocked to discover if you could even whisper anymore.

You’re not broken.

You’re not anything.

-

Acceptance

“Tara, I’m still waiting on your reports from last week’s mission,” Jenna’s voice grows closer as she walks over to where you and your friend are chatting about some mission that’s supposed to be underway next week.

“Of course, ma’am, right on it!”

Tara smiles apologetically as she runs back to her desk and starts shuffling through the stack of papers she had left for “Future Tara” to deal with.

Jenna stops in front of your desk and glances over you with an appraising eye.

“You’ve been looking better these past few weeks.” It’s not an unkind thing to say, she’s speaking to you in earnest. She doesn’t know the full extent of everything that happened but she wasn’t blind to the way you spiraled down, down, down.

“I’ve been feeling better.” Not a lie, though not necessarily the truth either.

It’s not that you’ve been feeling better, it’s that, for the first time in a long time you’re finally able to feel at all. It started slowly, crying yourself to sleep turned to slipping into unconsciousness. Nightmares that kept you tossing and turning and sometimes screaming yourself awake gradually became dreamless sleeps that still didn’t feel restful but at least sustained you enough to keep dark circles from under your eyes. Bit by bit, piece by piece, you began rebuilding a semblance of your life. It wasn’t easy, and there were days when the darkness gnawed its way back into your mind and settled there like a feral animal with teeth and claws. But even those days started lessening after time, and though they never really went away, they were easier to handle. You had plans in place to help you navigate them.

Jasmine tea for nights where sleep seems too far out of reach. Chocolate croissants for the mornings when getting out of bed seems like too much effort. Music for when the thoughts get too loud, walks in the park when they get too quiet. You laugh to yourself the day you realize you’ve created a treatment plan for yourself like a doctor treating a patient. The sound of your laughter is foreign, it feels uncomfortable in your throat, but like everything else lately: it gets easier.

“This mission we’re going on next week, it could get pretty intense. No one would bat an eye if you decided you needed to stay back and run support.” 

You hesitate before meeting her eyes, something like determination flickering in your heart. “No, I can do it.”

And you can.

You’re not healed, but you’re something, and that matters. Sometimes you're hurt, sometimes the pain is dulled to a minor ache, and sometimes you even believe yourself when you say you’re okay. A few months ago the idea of you even stepping foot outside your apartment seemed too far beyond the realm of possibility. Now you find yourself moving through the world like the person you used to be, not haunting it like the ghost his absence made you.

You don’t think this is your forever, but it’s your present and for the moment you can accept it.

[merrybloomwrites]

When The Wolves Come Out (Chapter 11)

Story Summary: When Y/N gets hired to play drums for One Direction, the last thing she expects is to find herself as part of their pack. Especially since it seems that they don’t want her there. Only time will tell if they’ll accept her, or if the omega will have to deal with rejection from the others.

Chapter Summary: The post concert incident leads to a situation you never saw coming.

Word Count: 2.1K

CW/tags: omega verse, omega reader, alpha Harry, alpha Zayn, alpha Louis, beta Niall, beta Liam, poly, omega drop

Previous chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

AN: Thought of another twist and couldn’t resist adding it. Sorry 🙃

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

Two hours.

That’s how long you remain in the drop. Two long hours, during which you’re unaware of what’s happening around you.

After placing you carefully in Zayn’s arms, Louis distances himself, leaving the back room and heading to the small kitchenette in the front of the bus so that his current emotions won’t negatively affect you. He trusts Harry and Zayn to remain calm and take care of you. Niall stays with you as well.

It’s Liam who follows the alpha, wondering what’s wrong, unaware of what happened.

“Lou,” the beta says cautiously. “What’s going on?”

“There was an alpha,” Louis growls. “Cornered her. Made advances. I could feel her fear. And he just- He wouldn’t let her go.”

“But you got there in time?”

“Yes.”

“And then she dropped?”

“No.”

“Louis-”

“The fans. The people who say they love us. They were out there shouting horrible comments at her. Calling her all sorts of horrible things. I don’t understand how they could be so cruel. It was all just too much. Y/N dropped right before we got on the bus. I stayed calm but I am enraged. I want to go back out there and rip that alphas throat out. And. Well obviously I don’t want to hurt the fans. But it would feel nice to yell at them. Tell them how hurtful they were being.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, processing the situation while Louis continues to pace and wear out his angry energy. Finally, the alpha flops onto a chair, letting out a loud sigh.

“I want to keep her safe,” he says softy.

“You did. You did everything you could. Got her away from the alpha. Got her back to the bus. There’s not much any of us can do about unruly fans. Think we figured that out a while ago,” Liam says.

“I know. I got used to whatever they threw at us. But I hate it being directed at her. She doesn’t deserve that. She’s being called names because of us. It’s not right.”

Slowly, carefully, Liam kneels on the ground next to Louis. The older man places a hand on the other's neck, a position that brings them both comfort. For the alpha, it’s a safe way to express dominance, allowing Louis to gain a sense of control. The beta finds it comforting, his alpha accepting and caring for him.

They stay that way until Niall walks in and says, “Lou, the others are asking for you.”

“Y/N’s up?” Louis asks, his voice hopeful.

“Sorry, no. Not yet. Zayn and Harry want to talk to you,” Niall answers.

With a nod and one final squeeze to the beta, Louis gets up. Niall stops him as he passes, pulling him in for a quick reassuring kiss. It soothes the alpha enough that he’s calm when he gets back to you.

Harry has you in his lap now, and Zayn is rubbing his wrist against yours, using the glands there to help douse you in his scent.

The two men look up as Louis enters, and he asks, “How is she?”

“Calm,” Harry answers. “She was a little restless at first but she’s better now. I think she’s past the fear and into the resting and refreshing stage of the drop.”

“Good. That’s good. Niall said that you wanted to talk to me?”

“We’re worried,” Zayn states. “This isn’t good for her health. Mental or physical.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?” Harry asks.

“That I don’t know,” Louis replies. “Let’s just finish the last couple of shows. Maybe during the break she can see a doctor, talk to a therapist, figure out if there’s anything that can help her handle this type of career.”

“You think going to a doctor is going to help stop alphas being creeps and fans being rude?” Zayn asks, a touch of accusation in his voice.

“No of course not! We can’t control the actions of other people, but we can increase security to keep her safe.”

They sit in silence and Louis quietly adds. “We’ll figure this out. It might take some work, but, we’ll just, we’ll figure it out.”

He wishes he could explain it better, but honestly he’s exhausted. It’s the middle of the night, he’s stressed and tired, the bus is moving in a rocking motion that makes him just want to lay down and sleep. But he can’t. Not until you come up and he’s sure you’re okay.

A few minutes later you breathe a deep sigh, so different from the even breaths of the last two hours that they all turn to watch you. Slowly you begin to shift until finally your eyes open.

“Hey there,” Zayn says. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. What time is it?”

“Early morning, nearly 2,” Harry replies.

“Great. I’m going to sleep,” you state.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted,” Louis says. “Should we all lay down here?”

“No, I’m going to my bunk,” you reply, confusing the others. They honestly can’t remember the last time you slept in your bunk, always back here with at least one other pack member. But they don’t stop you, letting you stand, reaching out just in case you’re a little unsteady. You ignore the arms outstretched towards you and head to the bathroom before crawling into your bunk.

You don’t sleep, instead laying there and listening to the others all make their way to their own bunks. Your mind is busy, swirling with thoughts of what happened earlier and the conversation you had overheard as you came up from your drop.

What had happened after the concert was bad enough. But the alphas thinking you need medical attention? Therapy?

So they do think you’re weak. That something is wrong with you. And they’re probably right. You love performing, but you have to admit, there are other ways to live. Ones that won’t leave you drained, constantly running on empty. Maybe it’s time for a career change.

You’re sure the boys would support you; they care about you and your health. It might take some extra planning, but it could probably work.

With a potential solution in mind you feel better. There are only a few days left of the tour. You can make it through that and then figure things out from there.

You eventually fall asleep thinking that everything will be okay.

You’re less sure of that when you wake up to an email telling you that you’ll be meeting with Simon Cowell. Face to face, one on one. It’ll be the first time you’re meeting him like this since your first day on the job months ago. This time you truly have no idea what to expect.

When the boys ask where you are going you reply, “To a meeting.” And when they ask for details you just say, “Not sure. Probably a performance review or discussion of my contract since the tour is ending.”

You leave the bus and enter the car that’s waiting for you. Thankfully Paul is driving you, so you have a friendly face. It’s a short drive and soon you arrive at an office building. Following the instructions you’ve been given, you make your way inside and upstairs.

It’s weird sitting across a desk from Simon again. The energy is not good, and your anxiety starts to rise.

“I’m going to say something that I don’t often say,” he begins. You don’t answer, instead watching him expectantly.

“I made a mistake. I thought bringing you in would be a help to the boys. But unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be happening.”

Now you’re confused.

“But it has been good for them. They’ve learned how to care for an omega, care about me. They’ve really opened up and I’ve seen them grow.”

“And that’s all well and good. But unfortunately, adding you to the band, and to the pack, will be a detriment to their careers.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ratings are suffering. People are leaving the fandom. With you there, they no longer get to imagine it will be them that’s chosen to be the final piece of One Direction. The boys are no longer desirable. You are hurting their career. Everything they’ve worked towards.”

It knocks the air out of you. Because it makes sense. The fans were angry last night. They hate you. Having you there is dragging the boys down.

And who are you to wreck the empire they’ve spent years creating? How selfish would you be if you let your feelings destroy all the time and energy they’ve put into this band?

“You understand, don’t you?”

“I do,” you reply in a quiet voice.

“So you understand why I'm not offering you a new contract after this one ends on Friday?”

“Yes.”

“And why it would be in everyone’s best interest if you broke off your relationship?”

Finding it hard now to breathe, you just nod yes to show you understand.

“I know this will be difficult, but it’s the right choice. Here is your new flight information. You’ll be traveling back to New Jersey on Saturday morning. Your belongings will be shipped to you. Do you need us to arrange a car home from the airport?”

“No. I’ll call someone.”

“Excellent. Contact Ryan if you have any questions about the logistics.”

You nod once again.

“Y/N, it has been a pleasure working with you. Truly, you are a very talented drummer. If you ever need a reference for a new job please reach out and we will happily recommend you.”

“Thank you,” you hear yourself say.

In a daze you make your way back to the car.

“Is there any way I can stop at a cafe or something? I could use a little time before going back to the bus,” you ask Paul.

“Of course. There’s one a couple blocks away,” he says and begins driving. Once there he comes in with you, but gives you space, just remaining nearby to keep an eye on you.

On auto pilot, you order a coffee and find a seat in a back corner, needing some time alone to think through everything. One thing is for sure. You will do anything to protect the boys. You want them to be happy and successful. As painful as it will be, you know that leaving is the best choice.

But you can’t do a goodbye. Maybe that’s selfish, but you know they’ll fight you on this decision. That they’ll beg you to stay. And that will just hurt you more.

You pull out the notebook and pen you always keep in your bag and begin to write. A letter may never truly capture everything you want to say to them, but this is the best you can think to do. When you finish writing you somehow feel better, and also one hundred times worse. Reality sinks in. You’re leaving. In just a few days, you’ll separate from them for good.

But you still have a few days. And no one is stopping you from enjoying them, soaking in the last bit of time you have. So you put a smile on your face and head over to Paul, asking him to take you back to the bus.

Of course, the next few days fly by. The concerts are amazing, and you mourn the fact that you won’t be performing again. At least, not for a while. You have no idea when you’ll get to be back on stage, if ever. And that’s just another reason why this whole situation sucks.

There’s a party after the final show, and you lower your inhibitions, dancing the night away with the boys. Back at the hotel you all pile in bed, exchanging heated kisses. If things were different, this would be the night you’d go all the way with them.

But you can’t do that. Not to them, since you’d feel like you were using them. And not to yourself. You can’t open yourself up, experience what it’d be like to truly connect with them, only to leave them the next day. Better not to know what you’re missing out on.

You barely sleep, not wanting to miss a moment of the little time you have left. You sneak items from each of them into your bag, knowing you’ll want their scents around for at least a little while to ease the pain.

All too soon, the sun starts to rise and it’s time for you to leave. Carefully, so gently as to not wake anyone, you lean and press a kiss to each of them. Before you can even comprehend what this means, you quickly grab your bags and force yourself out of the room, leaving behind the people you love, and the future you thought you had.

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

AN: Honestly, who wrote this angst, because I didn’t even know I could write angst but this just flowed out in about 2 hours total

taglist: @luxiorchive

[hoeforhockey]

Dad and Daddy. Pt.1

-S.C #87

AU: So...I'm back! um, this is quite literally going to be disgusting. So good luck. But like..the only other old man i could think of to use for this was letang..so, yea. Um basically, this is pure filth with a plot..so yea. The title ends up making sense eventually i promise. And these pics literally suck bc pintrest won't let me log in on my laptop. So.. and good god the digging I had to do for that damn picture

Warnings: none really, it’s just kinda suggestive

Did he really need to parade around your backyard with no shirt and swim trunks three sizes too small?

Apparently.

It was so wrong. So, so wrong. he was 37 and you were only freshly 22. Did i mention it was wrong? Every single day this summer your stupid dad had invited him over to parade around in all his half naked glory while you were stuck watching. Becuase he would never feel the same right? He was 37, there's no way he liked you even remotely close to the way you liked him.

While Sidney stood half underwater in the pool talking to your father, you noticed how his eyes drifted your way every few minutes. Granted most peoples wpuld given the bikini you had on was almost two sizes to small and practically squeezing your boobs right out of the fabric. But it wasn't directed at you..right? Or at leat thats what you told yourself.

It wasn't until your dad annoucned that he needed to leave to go deal with something that he finally confrimed what you thought would never happen.

He pulled himself out of the water, his arms flexing like a damn Greek god. *What you wouldn’t do to hold one..* Snap out of it. He’s your dad’s teammate.

But oh how his arms looked…

No. It’s not possible.

“You look good..” he murmured as he walked past you, sitting down in the chair next you. Well shit, maybe it is possible.

“What-?” You asked, caught of guard as you looked over at him, your eyes raking over his torso without even realizing

“You look good.” He said again, this time louder. Like he really meant it.

Oh…OH.

“Thanks..” you said as you snapped your eyes back up to face only to find them clued to your boobs. Which, in all fairness they are actually about to break your swimsuit straps, but that’s not the point. “I see the way you look at me y’know. I’m old, not blind.” He said as he looked back up at you, meeting your gaze

“I don’t look at you like anythi-“ Your tried to protest before it died in your throat, because it just wasn’t true. “Ok fine, but I see you to.”

“Good. That’s the point.” He said with the tiniest little grin

“Come here.”

“For what?”

“Just do it.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up and walking over. You stood over him, your hands on your hips

“Happy?”

He didn’t say a thing, his hands pulling yours away from your hips and pulling you down ontop of him. Your thighs were next to his ,and you were quite literally straddling him. And damn, if you were ever curious how big he was you definitely weren’t now.

“Now I am.” He said with a smirk, his hands finding their way to your highs

“Sidney wha-“ you tried to say before you were cut off by his hand squishing your cheeks together

“Quiet. I know you want it.” He murmured

He let go of your fave, his hands finding their place on your sides

“You wanna tell me why you keep staring at me like you want to eat me?”

“You walk around like that all the time. What was I supposed to do?” You exasperated, you head dropping into his shoulder

“You act like you don’t do the same thing.” He scoffed quietly

“Yea well-“ You started before he cut you off

“Nope. Don’t even. I know what you try to do.”

“it works by the way.”

He stood, his hands still under your thighs, as I he walked towards the sliding doors of the house.

“Where’s your room?” He asked as I shut the door behind him.

���Upstairs..down the hall.” You said as your hands held into his arm. This was not how you expected today to go.

Well, here it is 🤗 Im planning on making this a mini series, so we’ll see where it goes from here. Also..bear with me here, I don’t know how to write super suggestive stuff so I’m trying my best. This might suck but oh well

[b3dbfe]

                                                                                    — succes story 003

emma's manifestation challenge recap of week one

first things first

this is the perspective of a couch potato aka I leave the house twice a week when I need to work. last week though I actually went outside with friends (whaaat) yes you heard that right and it was actually the most fruitful day.

maybe this challenge would make more sense for people that are outside not only to quickly rush to work and go back home haha

( day one )

"assume you'll hear a specific word today"

June 18th, I was out with friends. I chose the word "holo" or "hologram" I would have accepted either the color or an actual hologram. And we watched the Movie Lilo&Stitch in which not only once but twice we saw a hologram yeeey

( day two )

"assume you'll avoid inconvenience. no traffic, no long lines, no wifi crashes"

my second day would have been June 19th but I stayed inside which made it really hard to experience any inconvenienences, but on June 18th this actually successfully unfolded as well.

therefore you now get the biggest success story you could, in one day (probably)

• to give my friend her present I need the mail to arrive with a folder and it came at 2 pm (I had to leave at 4 pm) • I got done with the present entirely in time • I got to eat in time at 3:30 pm • the bus wasn't there when I came (which I love cause I hate when they just stand there already cause they had their lunch break there) • the bus came early and I could sit down like 3 Minutes early • I arrived early as always • my friend came not very much after that • I decided the train will be on time (and noticed how much of a limiting believer this women is and it annoyed me, she was conviced now that I said the train will be earlier cause my bus already was, it will be late) • the train was 1 minute early (yes right no one will let us belief their limiting mindsets) • we where at the cinema exactly on time • didn't need to pee the whole movie • after the movie we went to the restrooms and I could put away my jacket immediately • my friend (the one which had birthday, not the limiting beliefs one) and I could exchange our presents in secret while the other ones went outside already • her present fit in her bag, which I didn't expect • we were at the train perfectly on time • the limiting friend said the train always is 2 minutes late which meant it would arrive 4 minutes later than the thingy said, I decided it will be early as well • then it came 2 minutes, and 2 minutes before her negative mindset time which means you could technically say it was there 4 minutes early • back at the home station I looked at the bus time and noticed I am exactly right to still get my bus (which at that time only comes once an hour) • the bus came early like 12 minutes or something but I was there haha • didn't have to inconevience anything bad in the bus, no drunk people, creepy people whatever • at home my mom wasn't in need of the bathroom therefore I could take my make up off as soon as I arrived and make my food • at night before I went to bed my friend had already opened my present and send a text telling me how much she loved it and that she felt so many emotions and never got a better present in her life (I love her sm)

omg that's a really long list haha, as you can see everything went perfectly and better than I could have ever imagined (even though we had negative people around and they omg like people like them are reasons why I shift, how can you be this negative and hateful???)

( day three )

"assume compliments, extra kindness, good shit only"

June 20th, I work with my mom and usually she says I did a good job once and then continues to ciritize like 5 things that I "forgot" (that she didn't tell me I needed to put there) but on that particular day she overly praised me for something I connected. And like my inner child danced.

Later that day our neighbour came around and she gave us a bag with stuff from a bakery (which isn't unusual) but omg this time it contained strawberry pastry stuff. It tasted so good and usually there is like 1 to 2 things I like but I got like 5 items at least this times that I actually enyojed a lot :)

( day four )

"choose one small, specific desire and assume it's already on the way"

June 21st, yeah this day is a little error but it was cause I wasn't really sure what to choose and the things I could have chosen were things that didn't work before which made me start with a negative in belief on these things therefore it didn't work but I wasn't convinced and didn't really give it a chance to work.

( day five )

"walk into a room and assume everyone notices you"

June 22nd, I mean I was at home you know haha I kind of know my presence has impact at home. That's what I meant when I said as an rarely outside person (cause why would I in this reality) some of these things do not work as well at home at least for me haha

( day six )

"make a bold declaration and post it anywhere"

June 23rd, I noticed yesterday that I still could do this but it was a few minutes before going to bed that's why I didn't post it anywhere and that was maybe me error cause I only wrote it down in my google notes. And it was "I shift tonight" yeah ehmmm that did not happen...

( day seven )

"when something goes wrong, don't react, stay in your assumption"

June 24th, today hehe, everything went great. I was at work alone, my mom has time off of work now and I was excited but a little scared cause I am only there for the second month and I work part time which means in full time I have 2 weeks of experience. But I did a great job :)

( week one summary ) @hrrtshape

alrightyyyyy week one is complete and I will put in more effort in week two. I know it worked great. I thought I didn't do a good job, but actually the things I wrote down scream success to me :D

what I mean with "putting in more effort" is "be more aware" cause I kind of forgot about it. But it still worked therefore I will keep going, with more intention and I should have more faith in me, that's literally what this challenge is about.

but I guess "failing" or being scared of it is just a trauma response and it's okay if trusting is hard, I will get there and you will get there too!

We just need to keep going <3

[deardiarywrites]

make lemonade with the lemons life throws at you - dealing w the blues alone . . .

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

hey guys! how are you all? oh, me? im doing a little meh.. i am someone who feels a lot and yeah you guessed it right. that means whenever i am upset, i feel really really upset and my mind starts bubbling up and slowly starts to disintegrate. that is exactly why i am creating this post. to help myself and you to heal and get better, even when we have no one by our side. especially if we don't have anyone or feel like no one gets us. teeny tiny fix - there are people who care abt us ok? it's just our cute little minds being a bit under pressure rn so it feels like everyone is against us.

tip one : acknowledge your feelings

be upset. be depressed. cry. yes, let it all out. no toxic positivity here. who are we without our shadowy bits? there is nothing wrong to be upset and it's fine if no one gets it. they don't have to get it for it to be real. you are going to be okay. listen to songs that totally describe your situation and mood and let yourself be sad. feel it. and accept it. but don't make it your identity.

pls note ! : please don't harm yourself as it will further ruin your mood. it is possible to allow yourself to feel w/o inflicting damage upon yourself or others. yes, others too. just because you are upset, try not to bring down other people. if u feel like you tend to be extra mean when you are upset, i suggest taking deep breaths before answering someone and don't be afraid to be vulnerable, if you are upset, don't act like you're on top of the world.

tip two : create something even if it sucks

create something. literally anything. paint rocks. braid grass. try a new hairstyle. make a stickman comic strip. make a quiet book (so so so fun). create a notion template. write a short story. write a poem about how you are feeling. draw yourself. choreograph a popular song. cook smth. draw on your body. try a makeup look. cut your hair. write letters you'll never send. write a script and act. create cute costumes. cosplay as your perfect character.

it doesn't have to be perfect. just create. and not for any kind of validation. create something and don't tell anyone about it. it will be your little secret. let it age, like fine wine and fix it every now and then. and then later, when you're feeling better, look at what you created and smile !

tip three : have a "boring" hour

select an hour when you can be left alone, undisturbed and basically do absolutely nothing. don't do anything at all. stare at a wall. no sleeping, reading, showering etc. like nothing, ykwim? for one whole hour, let yourself do nothing. maybe at first you will feel like you are going insane, but it helps. trust me.

maybe you'll figure out parts of yourself, thoughts, emotions, memories you almost forgot about. let yourself be bored. <3

tip four : therapy sessions with chatgpt

i had one today. and trust me when i tell you that i bawled my eyes out. ask chatgpt to act like a professional therapist and just start talking to it, it is honestly an amazing alternative for real therapy if you're unable to get that due to certain circumstances.

why i love this : it actually makes you feel heard and seen and brings light to different kinds of prespectives. helps decode + validate your feelings while guiding you on how to change and get better.

pls note ! : don't get too emotionally attached (lol) to chatgpt cuz it is an ai after all. keep that in mind.

tip five : pretend to be your favourite character for a day

choose someone you look up to and act like them for a day. research about when they wake up, their habits, what do they do when they are upset, and totally lock in in that feeling. and at the end of the day, reflect. how did you feel? which parts of your day were your fav? which parts of your fav character would you like to keep with you?

have fun ! be quirky ! be cringe ! do things you love !

tip six : spend time naked but don't look into the mirror

just relax and feel your body in its barest form. this is all yours. nothing that belongs to someone else. all yours. and just exist. let shame fade away into the background and just have fun with your body. give it hugs, tell it that it's loved and is beautiful.

look, life won't just suddenly start feeling better. you will have to put in the work. and also, there is no pressure. do it as slowly as you can. but do it okay? take action! nothing changes if nothing changes!

xoxo,

@deardiarywrites

[whaliiwatching]

diversity win! peacock jumping spider and wolf spider in love

[crossbackpoke-check]

philadelphia where love goes to…..be reborn?? crazy stuff happening here!!

i-

yeah you know what, that narrative makes sense, continue 🤝 philly

[sharkbit3z]

excuse my fors4ken posting again but what the hell i actually didnt expect shedletsky to be so fun

UPD. IF YOU SEE TGIS POST NO YOU DONT GET OUTE

[tateytots]

the duality of me ig lol

[fridayyy-13th]

wow. not even a week into college and i'm already behind on work. fucking lovely.