#what am I doing this blog is supposed to be about language

[jimmy-dipthong]

Puff pastry pizza

[h4ndwr1tten]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — this took me a long ass time to write. if it seems familiar to any other works, i requested something with the same plot on someone else's blog lololol. THIS IS PART 1 AS IT'S A LITTLE LENGTHY!!! dividers by benkeibear.

(am i posting this on nanami's birthday? yes.)

cw — not proof read, established relationship, kinda ooc nanami? like one mention of sex, pregnancy, strong language, arguing, crying, accusations of cheating, hurt/no comfort.

synopsis — the test results are positive and you aren't ready. when you try to hide this from your boyfriend of 5 years, he assumes the worst.

part 1 | part 2

this wasn't supposed to happen. it shouldn't have happened. you both took every precaution possible to prevent an outcome neither of you were prepared for — from condoms, to birth control, to plan b. it had kept you safe for as long as you started having sex. you never found yourself worried about carrying a life in you for 9 months.

so why now does the test read positive?

it felt like the world stopped moving. you didn't even know if you were still breathing. your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach, your eyes wide and full of disbelief. you couldn't believe it. it couldn't have been correct. the 99% accurate claim on the kit had to be lying. there was no way it could've been true.

it took some time, but you were able to tear your gaze away from the test. you looked up to the ceiling, blinking away the hot tears you could feel building up. you took a few deep breaths and tried to swallow down the lump in your throat, your fingers trembling around the test.

you've thought about having kids before. you did want them, just not now. you were unprepared for this. how do you raise a kid when you aren't ready, when you aren't even married?

then it hit you — nanami's involved in this too.

the realization made you feel 10x worse. if you weren't ready for a child, you could only imagine how he would feel about this. his life was going so well right now. he was happy with his career and his salary, he was content with the apartment you both shared, and he was even more happy to be with you. he had his whole life and future planned out. he knew when he would retire and even what he'll do in life after he retires. nanami saw you in his future, you were always there when he would think of it. but would you still be there if he found out you were currently pregnant with his child?

you two had never fully talked about having kids together. you both were confident that you would spend the rest of your lives together. you've discussed marriage, homes, and briefly, kids. it was never a deep conversation — you only ever talked about having them and how many there would be. but never about having them earlier than expected.

gosh, you felt like shit. utter, absolute shit. you felt even worse for nanami. you felt like you were going to ruin his life plans. you felt like this would be the downfall of your relationship. and if it was, who knew if you would ever recover.

your phone buzzed with a notification, pulling you back to reality. you didn't realize tears had fallen until one slipped from your chin and landed on the hand gripping the test. you stood from where you sat on the closed toilet and checked your phone. it was a text from nanami.

i'll be home soon, my love. do you want me to bring anything home?

he was so caring. always considering you, always putting you first. you couldn't help but feel even more guilty.

hi ken. could you get some takeout pls? i'm sorry, i'm not in the mood to be cooking rn.

of course. want anything specific? are you feeling alright?

i'm fine. you can choose tonight :)

alright then. i'll be home soon, i love you ❤️

i love you too 💕

you shut your phone off and placed it back on the counter, screen facing down. you felt horrible — he was always thinking of your needs before his. would this end now that your carrying his child? certainly he wouldn't want to have to worry about another person in his life at the moment. you wouldn't want him to worry.

you stood from the toilet seat, about to leave the restroom when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your face was bright pink and red, your eyes also red but not super puffy and swollen. some people might think it was allergies, but not nanami. nanami wasn't some people — he knew you better than anyone, perhaps even yourself. he could see right through you, read you like a book. you began to worry what he would say if the pigment in your face didn't fade in time, if he would ask if you had been crying.

what would you say if he did ask? he knows you so well, it's nearly impossible to lie to the man. you could say you were rewatching your favorite show and got emotional, or reading another chapter or more of the book he bought you the other day. but nanami isn't dumb. he would catch on before you could even finish your excuse, he'd know something's up.

you sighed, inhaling and exhaling deeply. you didn't know how this was going to play out. you didn't know how to act or what to say to nanami when he came home. you were just hoping for the best.

the lock on the door clicked once, twice, and then the door opened. you had been in your shared bedroom, watching some corny rom-com to ease your mind. you had hidden any evidence of the pregnancy test. you threw away the box and instructions, then threw out the trash bag you tossed them in. you kept the test, however, and hid it in your purse that was now laying on your bed. nanami wasn't one to snoop. if he wanted to check something of yours, he would ask permission. and if you didn't grant it, he would respect your boundaries like he always does.

"my love?" you heard nanami's voice echo throughout the apartment. normally, you would've been waiting by the door for him and greeted him excitedly, but for obvious reasons, you weren't.

leaving the bedroom and walking to nanami, who was walking in the hallway and you assumed he was looking for you, you gave him a small smile.

"hi ken," you said quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist instead of his neck where you usually do. you stood up on your toes to reach his lips, kissing them gently and not for long. when you pulled back, nanami leaned down for another, a longer one. were you ever going to get these kisses again if he found out you were carrying his child?

for real this time, you both pulled away. you still smiled softly up at nanami, but he was observing you closely, worry swimming in his honey brown eyes.

three things were running through his mind right now: why were your cheeks and eyes tinted a bright red, as if you had been crying? why didn't you seem as eager to see him after work like usual, wrap your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, and kiss him for more than a second? something was wrong. did he do something? did you know what food he bought and were you not pleased by it? were you feeling sick?

"ken?" you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. "are you alright?"

"are you alright?" he returned, worry still plastered throughout his face.

you then looked confused, though you weren't, slowly nodding your head, "yeah... why?"

nanami stayed quiet for a second. maybe you were just tired, maybe he was overthinking this. but that idea didn't sit right with him. it was like his gut was telling him that something was up with you. but he didn't know what.

not wanting to push you, he answered, "nothing. i missed you though. let's go eat?"

throughout dinner, nanami noticed how quiet you were. if it were any other day, you would have been telling him about your day, the latest gossip, about the episode you watched or the chapter you read. you were barely even touching your food too. you occasionally took small bites, but most of the time, you were just poking it with your fork.

while he was putting the dishes away, you grabbed yourself a glass of water. that's when nanami asked you, "love, are you sure you're alright?"

"yeah, i'm fine. why do you ask that?" you replied unsurely, looking down at your water.

"i'm sorry. you just seem... off." nanami washed his hands, looking you up and down carefully.

that was another strange thing he noticed. you hadn't looked in his eyes when you told him you were fine. you always make eye contact with him. you're never afraid to and you're not one to break it so quickly, much less avoid it.

he was beginning to question whether you were really fine.

you had just finished getting ready for bed, teeth and hair brushed, skin care routine done. nanami had finished getting ready before you, so he was waiting for you by the bed. but instead of reading a book or even scrolling through his phone, his eyes were glued to you in worry. you could tell he was becoming suspicious of you, and you wished you hadn't made your troubles so obvious. your head was beginning to ache and you were desperately hoping that nanami wouldn't ask any questions.

those hopes were left unsatisfied.

"my love, are you sure you're okay?" nanami asked for what felt like the hundredth time today.

you sighed deeply. "yes, kento, i'm fine," emphasizing the fine. "my head just hurts right now. have you seen the tylenol?" you added, hoping that it would be enough to stop his questioning.

"no, do you want me to check your bag?"

you felt stupid for having kept an small extra bottle of tylenol in your bag. nanami reached over to your side of the bed, grabbing your purse. he had pulled the zipper open when you realized what was about to happen.

"no!" you yelped, practically sprinting to the bed and snatching the bag away from him. you checked to see if the bag had been open enough to see the test, which it hadn't, and some relief washed over you. but then you realized how much worse you had made your current situation with nanami.

fuck. i fucked up. i'm fucked.

nanami's brows were furrowed together, his face painted with a mix of frustration, confusion, and concern. he looked you up and down over and over again, gaze switching from you to your bag repeatedly.

"okay, y/n, seriously. what the hell is going on with you? first, i come home and you don't seem as excited as you tend to be. then your face is all red like you had been crying. then you—you barely talk to me, hell, even look at me throughout dinner! you touched your food like, what, 5 times? and then when i try to look through your bag to help you, you panic and snatch it away from me?"

kento's ramble had you silent. you didn't know how what to say, what stupid excuse you could use, how to explain your behavior. you only avoided his gaze and stared down at your bag. the thick, suffocating silence lasted for a moment longer, then nanami finally spoke again.

"y/n, are you..."

he paused and took a deep breath, as if to prepare himself for what he was about to say.

"are you cheating on me, y/n...?"

you were dumbfounded. in absolute, utter shock. how could nanami, the person who you believed to have the most trust in you, think that you would be unfaithful to him? yes, you realized how skeptical your behavior was. but for him to come to the assumption that you'd cheat on him? it stung a little—a lot, actually.

"what? no... no, of course not, kento! how could you say that?" you retorted, finally looking him in the eyes.

"gee, i don't know, maybe 'cause you can barely even look at me and you're very obviously hiding something!" his voice raising more with each word spoken.

you had no argument to counter what he had just laid out to you because he was right. you couldn't look at him for more than 5 seconds and you were hiding something. you eyed the floor beneath you, opening and shutting your mouth as you tried to think of something to say. nothing ever came out though.

a heavy sigh cut through your thoughts. you looked up from the floor and saw nanami shaking his head, running his hand down his face. he was so disappointed, you could feel his hurt radiating off of him.

"i'm going to sleep," he muttered, reaching for the lamp and dimming it. lying down, nanami shuffled into a more comfortable position, facing away from your side of the bed, and pulling the covers up to his shoulders.

"ken—"

"night, y/n."

you didn't know what you were going to say anyways. tears slid down your cheeks and the least you could do for nanami was keep quiet and let him rest. you realized that you wanted to apologize. apologize for the way you had been behaving towards him this entire evening, for making him doubt your faithfulness to him.

you slid into bed next to him, facing away from him as well. your body shook with the sobs you fought hard to keep in, nose stuffy and pillow quickly becoming soaked. you thought that the positive pregnancy test would have been the downfall of this relationship—now you wonder, will this argument turn these past 5 years into a mere memory?

m. list

[russellsppttemplates]

Uh oh, I'm falling in love (Lando Norris)

Y/N and Lando both have jobs that require good sight and attention to detail and yet they're oblivious to their feelings for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. I'm in a very fluffy mood, so I got really excited when I got this request! This also makes my expectations even higher and calls me single in about seventeen different languages at once...

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions a needle (for sewing)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey guys! How's everyone?", Max said to the camera as you made sure the set up was right, the screen showing his and Lando's faces on one screen and the table on the other like it was supposed to.

"As per your many, many requests, we have brought our graphic designer at Quadrant, Y/N", Lando announced as you appeared on camera, sending a very awkward first wave to the camera, "today's stream is little different than our usual programming, but it was the only way she agreed to be in one! You guys really wanted to see her, so we had to be creative!", Max said as he moved the friendship bracelets making kit into view on the table.

"Hey, Queen Taylor said we should make the friendship bracelets, so we're just following her!", you chuckled, looking at all the coloured threads and colourful beads, sorting them out and grabbing a pen and paper so you could draw your ideas.

"Since you guys wanted to get to know Y/N, can I tell them to send in questions?", Lando questioned you, "sure, I'll answer them to the best of mu ability", you smiled.

You were picking the letters you needed for the bracelet you were making when Max spoke up, "first one: how did you start working with Quadrant? I'd love to work on the team when I finish my degree!".

"I saw the job offer, and I must admit at first I didn't really know much about the company. I looked it up, looked cool enough and I sent my CV and portfolio in. So keep your eyes peeled for any offers, I guess? We have them now on the website, which was my doing, so you can check them out there if you want to be part of the team", you offered.

"I need help, guys", Lando said as he fiddled with his bracelet, the orange and grey beads with his initials sliding on the elasticated material, I can't do the closing knot on my own", he pouted as you placed your bracelet down.

"You have to flip it like this, here. Just put it on your wrist and I'll do the rest", you ushered him, your fingertips gingerly touching his hand and wrist as you quietly laced it, "this way we don't get frilly bits out and it looks pretty, see? Pretty!", you smiled, modelling his wrist for the camera.

Pretty, that's what he often thought about you. Not only pretty, but it was one of the first physical traits that came to mind.

"We should all have matching ones!", Max said as he completed his bracelet, impressively on his own, revealing the colourful beads with Quadrant spelled in white round beads with black letters, "I'll make one for each of you", he said as he watched you show your own, pink beads and a lyric he assumed was from a Taylor Swift song.

"I'll make Y/N's, she helped me after all", Lando said as one brave fan sent a comment into the chat.

He's so giddy to make Y/N a bracelet, it's a shame it will snap because of his lack of skills

Am I delusional if I say that they'd make a great couple?

If you're delusional, then what do I call myself? I still think they're making heart eyes at eachother whenever they catch the slightest glimpse!

We're joining forces, I think it's a noble pursuit!

He's a dork, Y/N, but you should give him a chance

Have you always known you wanted to be a graphic designer?

"I thought about different careers before I settled on this one, for now at least", you explained, "engineering was in the running up, but then I figured out that I was curious about how things worked, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be the one working on it. And this was a way to express my creativity, my strategy planning as well, and at the moment it's been quite good", you smiled as Lando grabbed your wrist softly, "I need to make sure this fits", he interrupted, "and it won't snap because I've learnt how to do it, thank you very much", he blushed. So he, too, was reading the comments, choosing not to dwell in them.

"Look, this way you always have a lucky charm with you everywhere you go, even if we're not together. We're eachothers lucky charms!", Lando announced as Max mafe a fake gagging noise.

.

"Are you all ready?", you said as you and Tara walked inside the room, clasping your watch on your wrist and hoping to find the boys ready.

Quadrant had been invited to a gala dinner that celebrated the companies in the same line of business, inviting five people to take part in the meal. After some team members politely declining the invitation since they had things booked already, the group ended up being Lando, Max, Callum, Tara and yourself.

The dress required everyone to up their usual style, hence the long dress you were wearing. Even though it was far from your usual everyday attire, you felt beautiful in the dress you ended up with after browsing the online shops for a while. The cut was simple, the skirt widening from your waist down and complimenting your curves as the sheen from the midnight blue fabric looked soft and sweet against your skin.

Lando seemed to think the same, trying his best to not let his mouth hang open when you and Tara walked inside their room, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you hurried them, "does it really take that long to put on a suit? I had to help Tara with the laces on her back and we still got ready faster than the three of you?", you asked, shaking your wrist to check if the dainty watch wasn't going to fall and that it wasn't too tight either.

Looking up to meet Lando's eyes, you were sure you physically and audibly gulped. No one should look that good in a plain white shirt. The cuffs were still unbuttoned, but the shirt itself was tucked in his black pants. He didn't have any jewellery, so his tanned skin caught your eye as it contrasted with his clothes.

"Lando has a problem with his shirt and we are trying to solve it", Max said, a little bit too antsy given that, at the naked eye, there didn't seem to be a big issue with the piece of clothing you had been inspecting quite closely.

"There was a loose button, and I tried to fix it, but I made it worse", Lando said as he pointed to the button on his hand, the slight movement showing you the place where it was supposed to he holding the piece together and closed.

"Three people in this room and no one thought about grabbing the sewing kit from the amenities?", Tara suggested, looking for it in the box that was the same as it was in your room, "see? Simple as that! Can you sew it, Y/N? My hand isn't fully healed yet, I can't quite grasp something that small yet".

Tara had injured herself earlier on in the week, prompting her to ask to tag out of the gala until you pleaded her to go so you wouldn't be alone, so she couldn't do it. None of the other guys seemed to even know how to pull the thread through the needle, so you grabbed the kit from Tara's hand, "sure, I'll do it", you said, "if that's okay with you, that is", you looked over at Lando.

"Sure, anything to solve this. Do I keep it on or should I take it off?", he questioned, wanting to slap himself straight after at his offer. Why would he volunteer to be shirtless in front of you? It certainly wasn't the way to go, shoving himself like that.

"On should be fine", you muttered, missing the snickers going on behind you as you wet the thread with your tongue, careful to not transfer any of the lipstick on it and ruining the piece without point of return for good, easily looping it through and adjusting the size of the ends.

"Button", you put your hand out so Lando could place it in your fingers, "I will do my best not to poke you, let me know if I do so accidentally", you mumbled at the closeness to him you found yourself in. It was the third button from the top, and as much as you loved the sight of the shirt slightly undone, the dinner required his shirt to be done up. Looping the thread on the button a few times, you moved to pierce the crisp white fabric so it would be secure, your hands dangerously close to his skin as you could hear his laboured breath. Lando still remembered and thought constantly about your fingers touching his hand and wrist when you did the friendship bracelets video for the YouTube channel, and right now, it only added to his predicament.

"It's done, all good!", you exclaimed, looking up as you cut the thread and seeing Lando's eyes on you. The intensity nearly threw you off of your balance as you stood the tiniest bit crouched down on your high heels.

Scrambling to further the distance between your bodies, you smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on your dress, storing the supplies back in the kit as Lando managed to utter out a thank you, too stunned and intoxicated by your scent to say anything else.

"I sewed a button as neither of you look any more ready that you were when we got here? We're going to be late!", you hurried, sitting next to Tara and ignoring her smirk as you scrolled through your phone.

.

"That shoot will have to wait since Lando won't be back here soon, then", you said, moving things around in the online shared calendar, "when did you say you could again? I'm sorry", you asked, rubbing your forehead and squeezing your eyes, adjusting your glasses and looking at him through the screen.

"The first weekend of the next month", Lando assured, "are you okay, Y/N?", he asked. The bags under your eyes didn't fool anyone and you looked tired. And sick, he guessed by the layers of clothing you had on.

"I had a pretty shit day, actually", you admitted, "I had to go with the guys from storage because there was an issue. The supplier sent the samples and we wanted to get things moving so I could have some ideas for the description and the social media team also wanted to prep the draft for the whole story telling, but it all went under. I also think I caught some bug, so it's been a fun day", you exaggeratingly smiled, mocking your own misery.

"You look like you need a hug, Y/N. Do you need a hug?", Lando asked as you nodded, "Actually, that would be pretty good, but I live alone. The neighbours would think I'm pretty weird if I went around like this asking for one, too", you reasoned.

Even though he wasn't next to you, Lando still managed to pull a smile out of you as he got up from the chair he was sitting in, hugging his laptop, "did you feel that hug?", he loudly wondered, "it's full of Get well soon fairy dust!", he smiled charmingly.

"Fairy dust, mate?", Callum wondered, reminding you of his presence in the videocall, "you try and spend more than a few hours with a little girl and you let me know. Mila has taught me all about fairy dust and princess magic", Lando added.

.

"How will we get out of here?", you wondered, starting to regret joining Lando, Max and Pietra when they said they were going to watch a football game. You loved the sport and you figured it would be a nice distraction after a work loaded week, but now, things were looking less than a distraction.

"We will let them space out once the game finishes, free up the roads as well because getting out of here will be a pain, too", Lando suggested.

The game granted your team a win and three points in the championship, the crowd going wild as they clapped, whistled and waved their scarfs, slowly leaving the stadium.

"Should we make a run for it now?", Pietra said, holding her boyfriend's hand as she allowed him to pull her away.

You followed Lando, thanking his choice of a colourful hoodie to wear today as it made it easier for you to spot him, "go in front of me, I'll back you up", he switched positions. You weren't having too much trouble until you were met with a ramp, people carelessly shoving others as they tried to leave as quick as they could, all with the same intent of avoiding traffic and crowded roads.

"Here, Y/N", you heard Lando as he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers in his and pulling you along, excusing you two as you approached Max and Pietra again, "we're here", you tapped the blonde woman's shoulder with your free hand.

"Goodness, that was and adventure", she said once you reached the stadium car park, the crowd clearing up significantly as there was maybe another ten people headed the same way as you were now, "is everyone alright? I think someone stepped on my foot quite a few times, or many people stepped on it at various different times", you reasoned, walking alongside Lando still.

"Don't we need to hand the bracelets back?", Max said as he looked at the sign, taking his bracelet off and depositing it in the box in the booth, Pietra doing the same as you seemed distracted.

"Are you okay, Y/N?", Max asked, seeing you and Lando were still holding hands and, because of that, not taking off your bracelets.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?", you scrunched your eyebrows, "we need to hand the bracelets back in, so I kind of need to have yours, too", he teased, looking at your hand still entwined with Lando's.

Removing your hand from Lando's as if it har started burning all of a sudden, you removed the bracelet, apologising quietly to the stadium employee as you thanked him, "shall we go now?".

"Dinner out?", Lando gulped, getting into the driver's seat, "Good idea, yes", Max added, sitting in the passenger's seat as you and Pietra sat in the back, your hand rubbing your other hand that had been laced with Lando's own one for a long time. Uh oh, you were falling in love.

.

The launch was finally over after an amazing response from the fans, leaving your heart happy and warm with a sense of mission accomplished.

"Is everything packed into the van?", you asked Tara, "yes, it's just this box. It has fragile things, so do you think you guys can take it in the car with you? It probably only fits at the front, so you'll have to squeeze in with the boys on the back", she smiled apologetically, "it's fine, we'll keep eachother warm like penguins do", you chuckled, holding the door open as she set the box safely.

Saying goodbye to her and the rest of the team, Max and Lando joined you, "You sit in the middle seat", Max pointed at you, opening the door ao you could scoot closer to Lando and he could get in.

"Could you tell me how long we have until get back?", Lando asked the driver, "with traffic at this hour, I'd say around 90 minutes", he smiled, turning on the blinker so he could leave the car park.

"Plenty of time for me to catch up on sleep, then!", you cheered, making yourself comfortable in the space you had, folding your scarf into an impromptu travel pillow, closing your eyes.

"Are you a snorer?", Max asked, making you blindly swat his thigh, "only when I'm sick, and lucky for you, I'm in presteen health, no blocked nose", you grumbled.

It didn't take you long to fall asleep. In the last week, all of the nights combined, you probably slept less than thirty hours, so your body was indeed in need of rest.

"And there it goes", Max said as your pillow undid itself, Lando lifting his shoulder in reflex so your head wouldn't drop drastically, landing on top of him, "Good thing she isn't our engineer, hm?", he chuckled, looking at how his bestfriend was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

"I think I'm in love with Y/N", Lando whispered after he took your appearance in. You had forgone wearing make-up today, so he could see all your moles and scars, your pouty lips and the darkened skin under your eyes. It took everything in him to not bend down and kiss your forehead.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out, mate", Max added, shaking his head, "I genuinely thought you had some issue processing information, I'm glad to find out you don't.

"Now you just have to act on it, which is going to take you, what? Two, three more months?".

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey guysss! A lot of people have been asking for me to make a challenge for a while now. I honestly didn’t want to, not because I’m against them or anything but because the law will be different for everyone. Sometimes, it feels like tumblr needs a reminder - you are the only person who knows what you need to do to succeed. I wish I could imprint this realization on everyone's minds. I’ve also gotten so manyyyy asks about things that genuinely just feel like your doubts repeating in your mind constantly so I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs bc y’all are spiraling really hard. I get it you want your desires for Christmas and new years. It’s okay take a breath, you're alive and will be okay.

Firstly: at the beginning I used to spend countless time spiraling into depression, constantly changing my methods every time I saw a new success story, and every time I found a new foolproof' tumblr method. Methods that were supposed to guarantee results in a day so when they didn’t I felt rlly useless. It was annoying, to say the least, and I don’t want to help others do the same thing, but really all I can do is reiterate what I always say and hope you apply it to everything!!

A lot of you guys wanted something that didn’t involve the void state, so that’s what this will revolve around! But feel free to make this void orientated if you desire, and I’ll also add a void section so all my babies can eat!

Ok so you’ve over consumed, you have dropped the void, and now have switched to just assuming and knowing that you would wake up with your dream life - embracing states. Great! At first, it will seem like you're doing nothing but you aren’t! For example, I knew I was dwelling in the state of wish fulfilled when I went to work without shedding tears, when I looked in the mirror and didn't think I was ugly because, well, I'm beautiful! I didn't care abt not performing well on a test because I could revise my past etc. this isn’t to say ignore the 3D: don’t do that, please try and make sure you’re safe and okay. But know life is malleable. Slowly, things that used to bother me—my parents, grades, anxiety, self-deprivation—started to fade away. Even though my dream life hadn't reflected in my 3D yet, I felt the switch. That's when I decided, I know what to do.

I also remember finding this cute website a long time ago that I want to share that summarizes it in such a great and simple way.

So Before I knew or understood what LOA was, I found this gem of an article on I am Love'- "How To Shift Into A State & Stay There". I think I have a post abt it somewhere on my blog but I’m too lazy to find it so here it is again.

Basically it explains that the essence of shifting into a desired state and staying there. What resonated with me was her choice to dwell in the state of knowing that her desires are hers, no matter what.

The way she used colloquial language made the content relatable and easy to understand. It's like having a conversation with a friend who's guiding you through hard concepts with “dumbed down” language because at the beginning states made 0 sense to me.

Posts like this really helped me particularly because when I discovered Neville, it required three attempts on my part to not only intellectually grasp his teachings, but also to truly comprehend him as a whole, given his non-contemporary speaking tbh.

I recommend it if you find yourself stuck or not really grasping the law yet (which is more than okay) but, if you're looking to understand the loa better or just learn more give this article a read.

There’s also a particular quote from Neville that really got me to dive into his work after finding this article and it was- “The being that you really are, descended to the weakness of the flesh, causing you to experience the state you are now in. Contemplate another state, and the same being who brought your present form into being will restore and make alive the other state, the state desired. This he will continue to do until his purpose is fulfilled. That purpose is to follow a certain pattern back into the unity of being. You see, in the beginning we were drafted. We did not volunteer to fall into these states. We were made subject into futility, not willingly but by the will of him who sent us. But when we return we will discover that we are the very being who subjected us. We are now the sons, destined to return as God the Father!”

Now that you understand and are ready to apply state, Here’s a routine I’ve created to hopefully help you guys! It is very simple and not time consuming at all.

Scripting and writing: I love writing and feeling like the author of my own story, literally bringing my creation to life. I would write when I felt like it. Whenever I wanted to dwell in my state, I would simply write, "I have my dream life." It's so simple, yet it embodies everything I need. If you’re more of a picture girl, use Pinterest instead. Or both if you prefer it doesn’t matter.

Edward arts' "I am creator meditation": Again, do this whenever you like it. It's one of the few meditations that didn't bore me to death and seemed to work with my ADHD. I also love reading, so I would read his pdf whenever I felt like it and take mental notes. Reading his work was a reminder I was doing everything right, it resonated with me very well.

During doubt and overstimulation: When things get overwhelming, close your eyes and let the emotions pass. They’re just thoughts! repeat the words "I am" until your heart returns to its normal rhythm. It's a simple yet powerful way to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of emotions. And guess what? You can use this technique for doubt too! So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed, remember the power of "I am". It's a gentle reminder of your existence, your resilience, and your capability to be whatever you want despairs any emotional turmoil.

Thank god: (yourself!!) When reminded of your desires. Thank you god. When you see your desires, (eg:Pinterest, online or you’re just reminded) thank you god! When you see an image of your desires, thank you god! When you dream or think about your desires. Thank god! Always thank the person fulfilling it aka you ;)! If you’re religious just thank the god you actually follow.

Nightly reflections: At night, ask yourself , "What would I do if I woke up in my dream life right now?" repeat this question throughout the night. Then, imagine whatever scene you want. What would you do if you could not fail? What would you do if you had all the money in the world right now. What if you looked in the mirror and saw the most ethereal being and it’s just you? What about if you woke up in your dream house with your dream family and pets? This is inspired by one of the first shifting methods I created that helped me fulfill my imagination before I knew what that meant. When you’re ready to sleep just remind yourself it is done, and drift off into your desires.

As I've always said, I've been a great daydreamer. I knew exactly what I wanted my life to look and feel like. I envisioned my walk-in closet filled with luxurious outfits, waking up in my dream room on a soft mattress with my pets purring nearby. I saw the decor reflecting my personality in every corner of my large, and pretty room. I imagined walking into my bathroom, seeing all my cool Sephora products lined up for my skincare and shower routine. I love taking care of myself because I know I deserve it. I saw myself looking in the mirror, knowing I'm "that girl" who turns heads wherever she goes.I visualized going downstairs in my boujee dream house,and seeing my family stress-free, smiling, and eating well. I saw plans being made on my phone, my friends were excited to see and talk to me. I went to my kitchen, filled with expensive ingredients ready for me to cook meals for my loved ones - because I love cooking. I saw myself checking my bank account and seeing multiple seven figures in my savings, checking, and investment accounts and opportunities easily presenting myself to make more if I wanted. I saw myself running errands in my car, shopping, getting Starbucks, having expensive lunch with friends, and making a trip to Target. Despite the simplicity of the day, I would come home and be like, "Ugh, what a long day!"like that one khloe kardashian meme. What if all this happened today? Visualize and feel the scenes so clearly that it felt like it's already happening.. not just in your imagination.

Most importantly: Define the law for you! Stop parroting bloggers and intertwine your own beliefs with the law. The only principle of the law is that through persistence assumption will harden into a fact. Other than that anything goes except for facts that are wrong.

Here’s old notes I found in my phone lol just so you know what I mean by define the law for you: ignore the writing I was kinda dumb and new to the law 😭😭

Now this is for my void babies if you made it this far.

Read this post.

This is it copied bc the links are wonky sometimes

“My previous method is based on the persistent assumption, which a lot of people don’t know how to do right and it might take some time even for those who have the right self-concept and the mindset, so today I was in the process of manifesting this method.

And I was successful!

This method is for everyone. It’s the easiest Void method.

Do you know that you get into the Void state at night automatically? At that time the whole perceived world disappears for you. Every single perception and assumption you have disappears while your consciousness in the calm and natural Void state.

Use it to your advantage. Now that you know about the Void that you enter when you sleep, the perfect state to manifest anything that you wish to perceive, with no “resistance”, no illusions of annoying solid things around, you only need to remember your scripted starting point in your DR and practice watching it all coming out of the Void.

Practice that scene with your eyes closed, say to yourself:”That is what I perceive. Next time I’m in the Void, I’ll experience this”. You won’t even need to be fully aware of yourself that way when you get into the Void while you are asleep. Your subconscious would do all the work as it now would have the instruction and a clear image of you expecting it.

Personal experience: as I was receiving information on this method, I almost stepped into my DR! I wasn’t even in the absolute void state, I was only creating the scene for this method and I felt it materialise with my senses!

I have great feeling that it’s going to give fast results for others! Try it, teach your subconscious what it needs to bring forth while in the Void, let it do your work for you!”

Lastly, I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs real quick bc the fear of shifting vs manifesting makes me sad for y’all. I understand you don’t wanna leave behind the people you love and that’s not fear to feel ashamed of having! I personally hate the npc mindset a lot of have people have adopted. The only thing we know for sure is that assumptions create realities, and consciousness is the real reality. Everything else boils down to assumptions, except for principles. For example, shifting is not lucid dreaming, even if you assume it to be. That is the principle. I’m just going to copy what I told my mutal bc I’m lazy and need to finish Christmas stuff 😭😭 but Our imagination and the 4D realm are products of our consciousness, which is indeed real. Our view of reality is shaped by our consciousness, since we can't experience everything all at once.

Unless, of course, you shift into a super omnipotent god. Even then, you’d probably still struggle with the concept of infinity because, well, infinity is infinite. And it’s constantly a never exnding expansion. As humans, we're finite beings, and our understanding of the infinite is naturally limited. Because you can’t and won’t ever experience everything at once, infinity is always expanding. Our awareness can be thought of as fragments of consciousness; it's like being a drop of water in a massive ocean. Even though our perception is limited, the infinite is always there, always existing. We simply adjust our awareness to perceive this infinite reality.

And through our consciousness, we are able to tap into other realities or 'multiverses', which give us a broader understanding of existence. This exploration of consciousness and the multiverse is a significant part of my journey into the world of manifestation.

The law of consciousness explains why, when you "shift" or change your perspective, you don't physically move. It's all about altering your state of awareness. This is also why time doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. You can become aware of any time or day you want, as long as you choose to be aware of it. It's like having a mental time machine. This law is why infinite universes exist. As long as you can be aware of it, you can assume and embody the state of that person. Whether that's someone with a billion dollars on Earth, or a person who lives in the Attack on Titan world, it's all about your awareness.Our awareness is just a fragment of the larger consciousness – hence the idea of the multiverse. Each universe is a different fragment, a different state of awareness. And we have the power to “shift” into any of these states, therefore shifting into any of these universes.

I’m telling you this bc there’s no need to be afraid of manifesting or being in a reality with robotic versions of the people you love. Ariana grande and Marilyn Monroe for example talk about loa without acknowledging it and we see their success. Neville Goddard and his followers saw each other’s manifestions and I manifest for my friends and they mnaifest for me.

Take a deep breath and let go of the tik tok clone mindsets y’all have they don’t exist. You can manifest and assume anything you want in your imagination. Y’all literally want to manifest things like millions of dollars, revising deaths, living in new countries, having immorality in your waiting rooms, and never aging which is all possible of course. So be for real, why assume and know that you can achieve all that, but it won't manifest exactly how you want? I've also wondered about what happens to the "old version" of people when they manifest their dream life. As far as I'm concerned, they dont exist because you choose not to be aware of them.

I really want to talk about this too, as I've received similar questions and, oh my god, I thought I was alone. I've always been a bit delusional and lived in my head, but when I became conscious of the law, did anyone else feel a sense of self-embarrassment? I don't know what that was, but I'd genuinely feel my soul wanting to throw up envisioning my desires that aren't mine, even though I've always been a daydreamer. It's kind of like when you feel you can't have them or it's strange to envision yourself with something you can't have, so you just purge yourself. 😭

I was thinking back to why that happened and laughing at myself because we need to be serious right now. Why are you getting sick by your own mind? Imagine if Van Gogh, anytime he pulled out a canvas and held a brush, was jump-scared by the brush. Picture him holding out the brush and just staring at the canvas crying because "well, the painting is going to suck 😐," "I don't know what to paint☹️☹️," "I already know it won't be like what I envision in my head 😡😡." Like, bro, the canvas is blank, just fucking paint. That’s why I really like his quote that's like...

“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” So If you’re scared of failing, if you’re scared of your desires, or scared of how it will come to fruition, for that reason alone is more so to and manifest it anyways.

But happy holidays guys! make some tea, scroll through Pinterest, read a good book and watch some Christmas films and remember if you can imagine/think your desires you can embody them bc where are you getting it from??

Here are some helpful documents I have read plus a cute vid I saw on insta reels : (let me know if the links are being weird)

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[ladamedusoif]

able

(Joel Miller x disabled F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Disabled F!Reader

Summary: "I just don't think she'll be able for patrol". But then it's just you, Joel, and your trusty walking stick in the middle of nowhere...

Content/warnings: Reader is disabled (she has rheumatoid disease/arthritis in addition to panic attacks, she uses a walking stick as necessary); Reader had a sister; Reader is an art teacher; strong violence; blood; description of panic attack; references to impact of chronic illness and disability; references to medication; references to disease and death; non-canon compliant; Jackson!Joel; strong language; ableist language and abusive language

Rating: Mature; 18+ MDNI

Word Count: ~3.7k

A/N: After making a plea earlier in the week for people to actually write disabled Reader fic, as opposed to forcing writers to feel they have to tag literally everything in an able-bodied Reader story, I knew I had to put my money where my mouth was as a disabled, neurodivergent writer with various mental health things going on here and there. And this one-shot is the result.

This one is a little personal. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid disease about ten years ago, and Reader’s experiences are informed by my own (though, thankfully, I haven’t had to contend with an apocalypse that meant I couldn’t access the medication that has kept me going). She’s also inspired by @agentjackdaniels, who acted as consultant extraordinaire on walking sticks and panic attacks, and suggested the Joel picture for the moodboard. Thank you, Luce, for this, for fighting the good fight for representation in fic - and for beta-ing the story. 

(A note on terminology: rheumatoid disease/arthritis are sometimes used interchangeably. ‘Arthritis’ often sounds like it’s ‘just’ osteoarthritis to people who don’t know the difference. Rheumatoid, unlike osteoarthritis (which is shitty in its own ways), is a systemic, lifelong, chronic illness and an auto-immune disorder that affects the entire body, not just bones and/or joints. So personally I use ‘rheumatoid disease’ as it conveys more of the impact of the condition. It's also often seen as an 'old person' disease but this simply isn't true - not that this stops mobility aids being modelled by people in their 80s all the time...)

Please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to stay up to date with my work.

Dividers by @saradika - moodboard by me

You weren’t supposed to make it.

Twenty-odd years in the apocalypse with your fucked-up joints and no steady supply of the meds that kept you going, pushing through the cycles of fatigue, and fighting off your own goddamned immune system as much as you were fighting clickers and raiders. 

You really weren’t supposed to make it. But you had Annie.

You were sharing an apartment when the outbreak happened, a quirk of shitty personal circumstances - she’d just broken up with her long-term boyfriend - that probably helped save your life. Annie was the all-action sister - the kind of person who thinks there’s nothing weird about spending your weekends doing triathlons and “Tough Mudder” challenges, who had a perfect bill of health your entire lives, who bounced out of bed in the mornings while you cracked and creaked and stiffly manoeuvered yourself into being. 

The good days generally outweighed the bad in the years between your diagnosis with rheumatoid disease and the initial outbreak - or maybe you had just gotten used to the aches and pains and the occasional flare-ups of fatigue. You invested in a walking stick to help on those days when mobility was particularly bad: solid, heavy, and carved in a pale yellow wood. It felt like a comfort in your hand, more a sign of strength, to you, than of weakness. 

Annie helped you through the panic attack that consumed you on outbreak day, working with you to regulate your breathing and relax your tense muscles until you could finally say what was on your mind.

“My meds. What am I going to do without my meds?”

Nothing a quick smash and grab at the local pharmacy couldn’t fix. It was the first of many, stockpiling the little yellow tablets you relied on and taking as many packs of over-the-counter painkillers as you could carry. Useful currency in the apocalypse, as it turned out.

All-Action Annie was never going to cope with life in a QZ. She got the two of you out after months of planning, nights of whispered talk about a town out west that was normal - or something close to it, anyway. She hadn’t entertained your protestations about you slowing her down, holding her back.

“You think I’m leaving behind a girl who’s so handy with a weapon?” she’d teased, pointing to your walking stick. “Be real. We’re busting out together.”

The infection took hold in her about three days from Jackson. Fuckin’ barbed wire, tearing a jagged line through Annie’s hand and leaving behind an old-fashioned kind of threat to life, the kind penicillin had mostly dealt with. But that was then. This was now. 

She died in an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, you holding her hand until the end, talking to her about your childhoods and trying to keep smiling until she closed her beautiful eyes. 

It took all your strength to dig her grave. And then, somehow, you found more.

You weren’t supposed to make it. But you did. 

Jackson stands before you. 

He sees you for the first time in the community dining hall, talking animatedly to Maria as you hungrily devour the food set in front of you. Eyes wide, face grubby, clothes ragged. Half-wild, he thinks, like most of the new arrivals. Like him and Ellie, once upon a time. He returns to his bowl of soup and his own thoughts - at least, until he’s interrupted by Maria.

“Joel? Want to introduce a new member of the community, just arrived.”

He doesn’t quite know why he’s surprised when he realises you’re leaning on a sturdy hand-carved walking stick in a solid, light yellow wood. Maybe it’s because he knows how physically hard it is to get here. Maybe he just assumed folks who needed a stick wouldn’t have been able to manage the journey. 

For a second he can hear Sarah’s voice in his head, chiding him for focusing on what a disabled person can’t do instead of what they can. 

“Joel?”

He snaps out of his reverie and looks from Maria to you. “Uh, hi. Sorry, just…sorry. Forgot my manners.”

“I was just saying how glad we are to have someone who can offer some art education in the town, isn’t that right, Joel?”

Your eyes are warm and mischievous as you meet his gaze, silently conveying your amusement at Maria’s rather brusque manner. It’s all Joel can do not to laugh.

“Sure is. You’re an artist, then?”

You shake your head. “Not a real one. I was an art teacher, before. Long time since I created anything, though, so I hope I remember how.”

He smiles softly, his gruff exterior receding a little. “Bet it’s just like riding a bike,” he says, before his face falls as he looks at your walking stick. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean… Shit. Hope I didn’t offend.”

“As it happens, I can ride a bike, Joel. The apocalypse just doesn’t give me much cause to.”

You leave him with a smile and a wink as Maria ushers you to meet other townsfolk. He watches you as you walk away, the tap-tap-tapping of your stick beating out a new rhythm in the heart of Jackson.

You think of Annie every morning when you wake up in the little house you’d been assigned. Sometimes, as you potter around the kitchen, still revelling in the novelty of making yourself morning coffee for the first time in two decades, you even talk to her. You tell her about the town, the townsfolk, your work in the community vegetable garden, your art classes. 

“Honestly, An, you wouldn’t believe how popular they are,” you tell the Annie who, in an alternate universe, is sitting at the kitchen table with her own mug of coffee. “I’m setting up extra sessions to cater for demand.”

There’s something uplifting in how hungry the people of Jackson are to make art, no matter their experience or existing skill level. They’ll draw stuff from memory, they’ll dutifully work on a still life, they’ll even traipse outside with you, wooden sketching boards in hand, and make rapid-fire sketches of the goings-on on Main Street. 

Joel doesn’t join a class - but the teenage girl Maria refers to as “Joel’s kid” does, all potty-mouthed and enthusiastic and pretty damned talented, to boot. Ellie tells you how she’s pinned up the drawings she’s proudest of in their home, “like our own fuckin’ art gallery or some shit.” 

You pull up a tall stool and sit beside her, resting your stick over your thighs. “Joel’s got his guitar and those dumbass model figures he paints,” she continues, leaning around her easel and squinting at the woman who’d volunteered to act as a life model for this week’s classes. “But this shit? This is real art.” She adds a little highlight to the woman’s sweater and leans back to assess the work.

“You probably got exempt from patrols, I’m guessing. On account of the stick, an’ all.”

“Maria asked, and I signed up happily. I got all the way here, didn’t I? I’m sure I can manage patrols. And it’s the least I can do - they’ve even found me some of the medications I need.”

Ellie nods, somewhat convinced, and returns to sketching out the contours around the model’s jaw.

The day of your first patrol arrives. You bundle up and set out early for the stables, allowing extra time to get there on account of the flare-up you’d been experiencing the day before. 

You arrive early - just in time, in fact, to overhear a heated conversation between Joel and Maria.

“She’s doing enough, ain’t she? I just don’t think she’ll be able for patrol.”

“You’ve seen her out and about, Joel. She’s mobile. She’s competent. She’s good with the horses. She got all the way here, the last stretch on her own. What more proof do you need?”

“You’re seriously gonna send a woman with a walking stick out on patrol?”

“I seriously am. Sent you and your bad back out, didn’t we?”

“That ain’t the same and you know it.”

“Just saddle the horses, Joel. And, in case you’re wondering - yes, I paired you together deliberately, just until she gets settled.” You hear her footsteps recede as she leaves him.

You had misjudged how much your already-limited grip would be further impeded by the gloves you’re wearing. The stick clatters to the ground.

“Who’s there?”

You emerge from the shadows. “Me. Sorry.”

Joel rolls his eyes and gruffly points out the tack and supplies.

The first patrol passes in silence. You wonder what happened to the softer man you’d caught a glimpse of the first day you arrived.

On the second patrol, you ask him questions about himself. On the third patrol, he asks (fewer) questions about you. By the fourth, you’re having something approximating normal conversation. 

“Sarah loved to make all kinds of stuff,” he ventures, leading the way on his chestnut horse. “Those beaded bracelets, that girly Lego in the pink and purple, all of that. My girl had enough Magic Markers to supply a whole elementary school. Maybe two.”

You can hear him smile, even without seeing his face. His shoulders relax a little as he recalls the memory.

“So she was a creative kid?”

“Creative, sporty… she could do anything. Made the school soccer team, she was so proud. Just a…” He pauses. “A great kid.”

There’s a few beats of silence, punctuated only by the sound of the horses snickering and the steady rhythm of their hooves on the ground. 

“What about your sister, was she arty like you?”

You’d told him about Annie on the last patrol. This was the first time he’d asked about her explicitly.

“She was the sporty one. I think that’s why I survived so long, truth be told. She was so strong and fast and tough as fuck.”

He chuckles, the burr of his voice resonating in the cold air. “Sounds like a good balance, though.”

“It is - it was. Was.” Your voice grows quieter as you repeat the word to yourself, chest starting to tighten. The horse slows, responding to the tension of your body, as Joel continues to trot on, not realising you’ve come to a halt behind him. 

And then the tell-tale snapping of a twig, the sound of footsteps, and the realisation there’s someone else there, emerging out of the woods. Two someones. 

Raiders. 

The panic attack that has been building inside you gives way. An innate fight or flight response kicks in as you roar his name. 

Joel turns and charges back towards you, just in time to see you take out one raider with a crack shot from your pistol. He slows the horse and readies his rifle, staring at the other man who is now trying to haul you off your mount.

“Get the fuck off me, motherfucker!” You flail against him, desperately shifting your weight to the other side of the saddle to try to shake him off. 

Joel takes aim. 

You think you’ve kicked the raider off. And that’s when you hit the ground.

He can’t take the shot now, not with her half-hidden from his view and audibly fighting off the man who’s dragged her to the ground. Joel is still a little distance away, slightly too far to see exactly what’s happening. 

Why didn’t he hear her slowing? Why didn’t he realise she was further behind than she ought to be? Why did she slow in the fuckin’ first place?

Joel quickly dismounts, rifle in hand, moving closer so he can get a clearer shot at the guy who’s now standing over her. The horse’s elegant neck obscures the raider’s hands from Joel’s vision - he has no idea if he’s pointing a gun at her or not. 

He thinks he has a clear sight on the guy’s head, provided he stays in the same position. He readies the rifle. 

Suddenly, the raider disappears, letting out a primal roar before he hits the ground. 

“You fucking cunt!”

Joel can see she’s standing now, the man prone before her. As he rounds the horse he sees her lift her cane, hands securely gripping the pointed end of the stick. 

She brings the solid, weighty handle down on the raider’s leg with a sickening crunch. Even Joel recoils a little at the sight and the sound.

“F-f-fucking…c-c-cunt!”

Thwack. The other leg. 

Fuck. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

”Keep calling me that, and I’ll keep the blows coming.”

Holy fuck. Who is she?

”C-c-c-cripple.”

”Excuse me?”

The raider props himself up on his arms. “I said, cripple. Fucking crippled cunt.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Joel cocks his rifle. 

The stranger sneers at Joel. “Awww, he’s actin’ the big man now. Weren’t too quick gettin’ back down here to save your cripple woman, were ya?”

Before Joel can react, she swings her stick over her head and brings it down on the man’s skull with a furious scream that seems to come from the very depths of her being. 

She screams and screams as she hits him, over and over, eyes wild in her blood-spattered face. Joel recognises this: in himself; hell, in Ellie. It’s the moment when the floodgates open and all those years of pain blend together and zone in on this convenient target, an avatar for everyone and everything who had forced loss and trauma upon you. 

He roars at her to stop, but knows she can’t hear him. It’s just her and the raider, now: her rage and fear and grief finding their expression through a walking stick turned cudgel.

A single shot ends it. She turns sharply, as if snapped out of a trance, and sees the smoke leaving Joel’s pistol. 

“Hey. Hey. You alright?” His broad hands grip your biceps as he looks into your eyes.

Yes, you tell him, yes. You’re fine. But Joel keeps asking. 

“Talk to me. Are you okay? I’m worried about you. Please, just talk to me.”

You are moving your mouth, but no sound is coming out. The familiar vice is tightening around your chest. You look down at your blood-stained hands and you struggle to breathe. 

“‘M dying, Joel. Can’t breathe. All the blood. So much. Why can’t I breathe?”

Oh, he realises with a pang. She gets these things too. And I know how to help.

“You’re okay, you hear?” He’s rubbing your arms gently, keeping his gaze on you. “You’re alright. Breathe along with me, okay?”

It’s difficult to find the rhythm, at first. Joel’s hands find yours and squeeze them in time with his breath.

”In through your nose, that’s it. Slow and steady. Now out through your mouth.”

He can see your muscles starting to visibly relax. A wave of relief courses over him.

”Yeah, that’s it - you got this. You got this, good girl, you’re just fine. Gonna be alright.”

When he’s confident your breathing has settled and the panic attack receded somewhat, he gently guides you away from the body of the dead raider, one hand holding your horse’s bridle and the other holding yours. 

“Why don’t you have a seat for a minute, huh?” Joel gestures to a long, low tree trunk lying near the forest’s edge and opens his saddlebags, rummaging until he finds a cloth, a battered hip flask and a bag of dried apple slices.

”Here.” He wipes the blood as best he can from your hands and proffers the flask, settling his substantial frame beside you on the log. “Have a sip or two, just to relax you a little bit more. Got a snack, here, too.”

You flinch at the taste of the liquor, but take a second sip regardless. The apple slices barely taste of anything in the afterburn of the moonshine. Joel nibbles on some jerky and stares into the middle distance. 

You take a break from patrol, agreed with Maria, and a few days off your art classes. It was tempting to keep going, to return to the light and airy studio and to your students. But you feared a relapse.

And your body needed to recover physically, too. You ached from head to toe, fingers and toes puffy and swollen and movement seriously restricted. You ration out the supply of medication you’ve secured since getting here, and use hot water bottles and plenty of rest to try to ride out the flare in your arthritis.

Three days after the incident, there’s a knock on the door. You hobble to answer it, leaning on your trusty stick for support.

”Came by to see how you were doing. Got you some things if you needed ‘em.”

Joel is standing on your front porch, holding a jute grocery bag. He pauses, as if waiting for you to give him permission to say more.

”That’s so very kind of you, Joel. Come in, won’t you? I was able to set a fire so it’s nice and cosy.”

He watches as you lead the way into the living room, noting how much slower you were today. Guilt laps at his conscience. He said she shouldn’t go on patrol. He knew.

”You want me to bring these into the kitchen for you?”

“That would be a great help. Thank you.” He’s glad to see you smile, after the trauma of the patrol. “If you want a drink, I’ve got some tea and coffee in the cupboard just to the left of the sink.”

He pops his head back into the living room. “What would you like?” 

“A tea would be perfect. Mugs are in the cupboard to the right.”

You wrap yourself back up in your blankets on the couch, making room for Joel when he returns with the drinks and a couple of cookies, sent over by Ellie as part of his care package for you. The mug feels like a comfort in your aching hands, its heat assuaging the inflammation ravaging your joints.

He sips his coffee and you sit in silence for a little bit, watching the flames dance over the firewood. 

“Have you, uh - you been okay, doing okay, since…”

Joel stares into his coffee cup and then looks at you, a little awkward. You smile, hoping to reassure him.

”I’ve been okay. Just the physical pain and exhaustion, mostly. And - well, you saw it. The panic. It can leave you drained.”

He nods and takes another swig of his drink. “I know. I - I’ve had times like that, too. Real fuckin’ scary, when you’ve never gone through it before.”

You study his face for a moment or two, noting the little scar on his temple, the lines on his face, the stern expression completely undermined by the warmth of his deep brown eyes. For an instant, he seems so vulnerable, this strong, tough man sitting on your little couch. 

“I haven’t had an attack like that in a while. But then, I hadn’t done anything like that in a while.”

This time Joel turns to look at you properly. “Not your first rodeo, huh?”

You giggle at the turn of phrase. “Not quite. Let’s just say my stick did a lot of work over the last twenty years. He wasn’t the first to feel the brunt of it.”

Joel nods, and you feel strangely relieved that he doesn’t seem surprised. “Doesn’t get easier, though, does it?”

“It does not. Which is why it’s better to avoid having to do it.”

”I agree. Gotta say, though, I - I was worried you wouldn’t be able for patrol, y’know?”

You arch an eyebrow at him. “I know. I overheard you, remember?”

He blushes. “Aw, shit. Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I just didn’t want anything happening to you, what with your - condition, and all.”

You sigh softly, not really noticing the affection in his voice. “Most of the time, I’m fine. Y’know? I’m slower, but I do okay. I get tired more easily, but I manage. I didn’t come here to be a drain on the community.”

”You aren’t.”

”I know, but I want to keep it that way. I want to pull my weight. I’m able, Joel.”

He huffs in agreement. “Not like I’m a perfect specimen these days, either. Knees, fuckin’ back, deaf in one ear…” 

You chuckle. “And you thought I wouldn’t manage patrol? Anyway, you’re not doing so bad, are you?”

He gives you a little smile, but that constant sadness still haunts his eyes. He stares at his coffee for a moment.

“You knew what you were doing, though.”

”I did. But I didn’t feel like I could stop.” You sip your tea, swallowing hard. “And I’m scared that makes me some kinda monster. You know?”

Oh, he knows. He knows it too well.

”You aren’t a monster.” Joel resists the urge to put an arm around you. “You just… something snapped, I guess. All that - well, all that hell you’ve gone through. It… it changes you. But it doesn’t make you a monster.”

He realises you’re crying before you do, spotting the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. He finds a clean handkerchief in his jeans and offers it to you. 

Fuck it. 

“Can I - can I put an arm round you? Just for some support?”

Your eyes light up, tears or no tears, and you nod enthusiastically. Joel is warm and comforting, his broad chest and strong arms a kind of anchor in the emotional storm. You nuzzle against him, and he gives you a little squeeze on the arm.

”You’re a really brave woman, you know that?”

His voice is quieter, more intentional. You look at him quizzically from under your lashes, unused to praise of this kind. For an instant you think about asking him what he means. But the safety you’ve found in the broad arm draped around you is all you need right now. 

You nuzzle a little against his chest, and watch the fire dancing for the rest of the night. 

[moonywritez6]

When You're Gone (Reupload)

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento

Reader: Fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, readers death, violence, blood, swearing, pet names

Context: The reader ends up dying due to missions/illness. This is their reaction after you are gone.

Word Count: 3,109

A/N: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

Part 2

______________________________________________________________

Gojo

Gojo stood there with his eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he listened to Shoko give him the news. "Gojo… I'm so sorry." She whispered, unable to make eye contact with her old friend. He said nothing; all Gojo could do was stand there, his body trembling as his sapphire eyes trailed towards the open door behind Shoko, whose lips were still moving. There, through the small opening, he could see it. The table in which your now dead body lay unmoving and cold. 'She's right there…' Gojo thought while his fingers twitched, eyes wavering. 

Shoko, who hadn't been able to look at her friend, slowly lifted her eyes only to stare in shock at what was before her. Gojo stood there not uttering a single word while tears leaked from his eyes. Shoko took note of the blood dripping from his lip as he unconsciously bit down on the tender flesh. "Gojo you-" He was gone Before she could finish her sentence. Three days later, he watched as your body entered the ground, or at least what was left of your body. "They say it was a special grade curse. It came out of nowhere and killed her comrades and the other sorcerers with her." Someone whispered. "I heard that Gojo was supposed to accompany them but got busy with another mission." Another added. 

Gojo stood silently before your grave, his eyes masked with a blindfold. Though he appeared like he wasn't listening to anyone, he was. He listened to everyone at your funeral, ensuring that no one had bad-mouthed your name in his presence. 'Good…your name is still clean, my star.' 

About a week after your death, Gojo requested to go on a mission due to his eagerness to get back into the field, so soon after your death, rumors began to spread amongst the sorcerers. Some said that Gojo was running away, while others claimed he never cared for you. As these rumors spread back home in another area of the country, Gojo stood in a deep crater; blood littered the space around him as curses kept coming from all directions. Gojo stood there, his usual sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. 

He let out a deep breath while stepping forward, his body wobbling as if he wasn't fully aware of his movements. "Enough…" He whispered, his voice filled with venom. The curses paid him no mind while charging towards the sorcerer, each one determined to end his life. Gojo grits his teeth; if his jaw were to clench more, it would break. "Just hurry up and fucking die! All of you!" he shouted, tears running down his face. Gojo's eyes, usually so clear and bright as day, were bloodshot and contained a dark hue. "Die! Die! Die! Dammit!" He screamed as loud as he could while annihilating every curse. 

Gojo's mind was blank of all rational thinking, his breathing heavy while his chest ached with each movement he made. "Why do you keep taking them from me?!?! What did I do to you, dammit?!?!" Gojo cursed all the gods, his heart unable to process any more pain. An image of you flashed through his mind. You were so beautiful as you stood in front of him. Your body language was everywhere as you shyly avoided eye contact with him. 

"Haha! What's got you acting all shy like this? Am I that handsome that just standing next to me is too much?!" He cried out dramatically while pretending to shy away from false embarrassment. You stood there with a pout while looking up at your childish boyfriend. "Oh, shut up! As if!" Gojo just laughed while you punched his chest. You looked at him with a slight frown on your face. "Why do you always do that?" Gojo hummed, looking at you with a curious brow. "You always let me touch you…why?" Your question caused him to look up in thought before he smiled. "Don't know! I guess I love you that much!" He laughed, watching the giant blush cross your face as you looked away. 

"A-anyways, Here!" You yelled, shoving the neatly wrapped gift towards him. He looked at the present, slightly surprised, before smiling as he happily snatched it from your hand. "Oh~ What's this~?" he sang while carefully unwrapping the gift. He smiled, seeing the glasses case, remembering how he had mentioned needing a new pair of sunglasses almost a month ago. He carefully opened the case, noting that this was the brand he loved. You were always so thoughtful and careful when it came to details. He loved how your eye would twitch whenever he purposely forgot an item you needed for events or cooking. 

 "So you won't complain anymore." Your words snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked at you. You stood there with a slight pout as you nervously messed with your fingers. "You keep forgetting so…I thought it would be a nice present." He felt his heart flutter as he watched you grow embarrassed, the blush on your face making him want to smother you in kisses. "Awe! My Y/n is the sweetest and most thoughtful!" He gushed while picking you up bridal style. You just screamed at him, face red, "I-idiot! Satoru put me down! I hate you!" You cried out while he just laughed. 

Gojo stood there panting while the last curse vanished before his eyes. Just then, the bridge connecting his lens snapped, causing the sunglasses to fall from his face. He quickly caught them in his hands, staring down at the broken pieces. Tears formed in his eyes again as he bit his lip before falling to his knees. 

"How am I supposed to get new glasses now, Y/n? I can't remember anything without you."

_______

Geto

Geto ran through the hospital corridors, screaming your name as he pushed past anyone in his way. His heart clenched when he turned the corner and saw his friend hunched over while sitting on the waiting bench. "Satoru! Where is she?!" Geto cried as he reached his best friend. Gojo looked at him with a pained expression as he slowly went and stood in front of your boyfriend. Gojo made sure to take in his friend's current appearance. Geto stood there, hands on his knees as his body heaved heavily with each gasp of breath. His hair started falling out of his usually kept bun while his eyes strained and filled with fear. It pained Gojo to see his best friend looking like such a wreck, and for good reason. 

"Suguru…" He spoke in a defeated voice, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Getos's heart stopped when he heard his name. he could feel his knees shake as he reached for his friend. "Hey…come on." He started as he gripped Gojo's uniform, his knuckles turning white. "She's fine, right, Satoru? She's really strong, remember! So she has to be…fine…" Geto trailed off as his mind processed the wet feeling on his hands. His body stiffened as he slowly looked down at the clothing he held in his fists. There, he noticed the blood staining the fabric. Tears started to spill from his eyes as he shook Gojo while screaming. "No! No! No! You promised me, Satoru!" cries echoed throughout the empty hall as Geto fell to his knees. 

"You both promised me you'd be fine." Those words stung the blue-eyed sorcerer, who couldn't help but fall to the floor with his friend as he held him in his arms, mumbling apologies after apologies. "Tell me this is just one of her jokes, Satoru… It's one of her fucked up jokes." Geto continued to cry as loud as he could, unable to accept your sudden death. The next day, Geto had you cremated and brought you back to your shared home. You had no family and had always talked to him about how if you were to die first, you wished to be turned to ashes so you could still be near him. "What a stupid thing," Geto whispered as he sat on the floor, hugging your urn like it would vanish instantly, just like you had from his life. 

________

Weeks went by, and no one had heard anything from Geto. He stayed locked inside his home, his eyes void of emotion as dark circles lay under his eyes from the immense lack of sleep. He sat on the floor of your shared room, scanning all the clothes and items that littered the area. His eyes felt so dry from all his tears within the last few weeks. He let out a small groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose before taking note of the small hairpin in his hand. It was a black hairpin with gold flakes splattered around it, a small crescent moon resting at the end with two small star chains that hung off it. He remembers seeing you always wear it, claiming it was your favorite. 

"You know I can always buy you a new one, right?" Geto asked as he sat on the edge of your shared bed, his arm resting on his knee as he placed his chin in his palm. "Huh? What are you talking about?" You asked your boyfriend, a questioning look on your face. You were never one to ask for anything, nor did you like it when people bought you things, which was tough for Geto as he just wanted to spoil you. "The hairpin…you wear that one all the time. Don't you want a new one?" You just looked at Geto with a slight smile on your face. 

"I don't mind wearing this one all the time! Besides, it's my favorite one!" You laughed, a slight hue on your cheeks while you went and gently touched the hairpin. "It's so beautiful and brings me joy…p-plus it reminds me of someone." With those last few words, Geto's ears twitched as a sly grin crossed his face. "Oh~ and do say who that someone is, my little angel~" Geto teased as he went and grabbed you by the waist, making sure to pull you back onto the bed with him. You just squealed as you laughed lightly, hitting his chest. 

"Suguru! Stop it, you dummy!" Geto closed his eyes in bliss, loving how your laugh sounded so angelic to his ears. "Gosh, I love your laugh." He whispered as he hid, nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You blush, a slight smile on your face as the hairpin makes a little noise while you move to kiss Geto. He hummed as you pulled away before you started playing with each other's hair. "I love your hair… It's so pretty." You cooed, giving a strand a small kiss. Geto blushed before doing the same to yours. "I love yours as well." 

Geto sat there, tears falling from his eyes once again as he clenched the hairpin in his hand, bringing it towards his lips and placing a shaky kiss. 

"Y/n…my angel… who's going to play with my hair now…I wanna place this hairpin in your hair once again."

________

Nanami

Nanami stood there, eyes wide, as he held your hand in the hospital bed. You had been diagnosed with an incurable illness when you were very young. He knew this when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. He had thought that the disease wouldn't kill you for a long time as it had been over ten years since you had been diagnosed. He was such a fool. About five years into your relationship, your condition took an immense turn for the worse, and you were left bedridden with a time limit of only three months. Nanami couldn't believe you would be going through his life so suddenly. You, his precious flower. 

He had made sure to visit you every single day, minus the days when he was forced away on missions that you would fight him to go on saying things like, "You can't stop saving people and doing your job just cause I'm sick Kento! That's so unattractive!" You would huff while pointing a finger at him. Nanami would flinch as if he were struck with an arrow by your words before setting off the next day to complete the mission as fast as possible. Each day, he would bring you gifts like flowers, books, desserts, you name it. Each time he did, you would scold him, saying things like 'I don't want you to regret spending your money on me.' or 'Kento darling! Just seeing your handsome face is enough for me!' He knew you hated receiving gifts, but at the same time, he loved seeing that soft smile that crossed your face each time it would process in your mind that he was thinking of you. 

"Kento darling?" You whisper while your boyfriend lies with you on the hospital bed, his head resting on your chest as his arms wrap around you tightly. "Yes, my flower?" He lifted his head just so his tired eyes could meet your own. You smiled at him as you raised your hands to gently hold his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing the dark circles under his eyes. He instantly relaxed at the feeling of his eyes fluttering shut. "Have you been getting enough sleep?" Kento opened his eyes and saw your frown, causing him to let out a small chuckle as he went and kissed one of your wrists. It was true he was losing so much sleep, but he couldn't help it. Not having you next to him in your shared bed was killing him.

"I'm sorry, my flower…you know I can't lie to you." He whispered before nuzzling his head back onto your chest. You pout at this while resting a hand on his head, carefully running your fingers through his soft hair. He knew you hated when he overworked himself and wouldn't get proper sleep, but it was the only thing keeping him together. "Don't worry… I'll get some sleep right now." He whispered before shutting his eyes, drifting off to your heartbeat. "Kento…please take care of yourself for me." You would whisper once you knew he was fully asleep. 

_______

Kento held your hand, tears falling from his eyes as the nurses rushed into the room, one of them gently trying to push him away. He couldn't hear a single word anyone was saying as he gripped your now cold hand, refusing to let go of your soft skin for the last time. You just lay on the hospital bed, a faint smile on your face, while Nanami was pulled out of the room, screaming your name. After your funeral, Nanami completely submerged himself in his work, refusing to take any time for himself or others. Gojo would make sure to stop by to at least annoy Nanami into eating and drinking any of the snacks he would bring to ensure his friend would not suffer from starvation or dehydration. 

"Nanami~ I brought you some delicious sweets from this shop I really liked~ Try 'em ~" Gojo sang as he danced into Nanami's office with a plastic bag. Nanami let out a deep sigh from his desk as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Placing his pen down, Nanami slowly lifted his head to look at Gojo, dark circles under his eyes. Gojo whistled, hand on his hip as he placed the bag in front of Nanami with a small thump. "You look like shit." Gojo laughed, earning a low grunt from the man who was already opening some of the snacks given to him. "Hey I'm gonna be going out tomorrow with Itadori if you would like to join us. It's my treat, so at least consider it!" He laughed, giving his friend a thumbs up. 

Nanami just hummed, already deciding in his head that he wouldn't be going. Gojo just smiled as he went to leave while giving a lazy wave. "Get some sleep, will you?! Y/n wouldn't be too happy with you right now!" Nanami frowned at the mention of your name being used to guilt him into sleep. He finished eating some snacks and placed the rest aside for his dinner tonight. He rubs his eyes, leaning back in his chair, as he loosens the tie around his neck. He glances down at his desk, staring at the small photo of you happily smiling while wearing that sundress he always loved seeing on you. He smiles slightly at the memory before shaking his head. 

He sits in his chair, preparing to focus only on his work. 'Energy pills,' he thinks to himself, having remembered keeping some stored in his bottom drawer from when he used to work all the time before he had met you. Nanami reaches into his drawer only to discover a small sleeping kit neatly placed on everything else. Nanami looks at it, surprised, before noticing a small note slip out from behind. He carefully picks the letter up while inspecting the sleeping kit. "Did Gojo slip this in here?" He mumbled to himself, unimpressed with his childish friend. He sighs as he opens the note, only for his eyes to widen at the familiar handwriting. 

My Darling Kento, 

Are you surprised? I knew you would be! I had Kiyotaka slip this into your desk to prepare for the future. I'm sure by now I have left this world along with you, my darling, who cherished me like no one else could have if my life had more years. I'm sorry to have caused you such stress, and I know you would scold me for apologizing. I do not regret anything from what we shared. You filled my life with joy, making this illness seem like some crazy thing I made up! I know you are probably working so hard right now, and I want to remind you to take care of yourself, Kento. Even though I am no longer by your side, it would hurt me to know I have caused you so much pain. Please find more happy memories, my darling Kento. I love you so much. Sleep well~ 

Kento gripped the corner of the letter, feeling it crinkle under his fingers. His giant tears dripped down his face, some landing on your handwriting, causing small smudges. Nanami quickly tries to rid his tears while gritting his teeth before letting out a loud yell as he sweeps everything off his desk, gripping his head as he cries, looking down at the photo of you. 

"That's not fair Y/n…you should be making more memories with me."

[nothing-tolose]

All Because I Liked A Girl.

A/N: HII FIRST TIME WROTE THIS FIC. English isn't my first language and I'm still learning, I hope u guys can understand me;) If there's anything wrong please let me know! xoxo

Divider credits to @cafekitsune <3

Part 2

You were so in love with her. You weren't sure how many times you think that you're the luckiest girl alive because you're dating your girlfriend, Ellie Williams.

Your girlfriend that you dreamt about since you got into high school a year ago. You always thought that it would be impossible if she can be your girlfriend in the future, or at least to be your friend. But it changed when she talked to you for the first time six month ago, when you accidentally bumped her and your drink was spilled to the ground.

You started talking with her after that, since you both have a lot common interests. Three weeks passed, Ellie started to calls you with some petnames such as princess, angel, muffin or even bae. You never asked her why, and you didn't want to ask.

It was perfect. So perfect that you never really thought it'd be end up so bad.

You just got into your second monthversary and you had a really really good time with your picnic date with her. God, you wish you can stay here like this forever.

But happiness won't last long.

You woke up by the ring on your phone beside you.

You wondering why. I mean, who the fuck is gonna call you this morning? Today isn't a weekday though. You took your phone and staring at the screen and it was your friend who's calling you, Lauren.

"Lau, I just woke—" You stopped your words as you hear how she breathe, it seems like there's something wrong, "Lauren, are you okay?" You asked.

"Am I supposed to be okay?" She sounds so infuriated, "Oh my fucking God, you're being a hot topic on school's blog and everyone's talking about you, Ellie, and her ex, Anne. And I haven't found the original post yet so please don't—"

You hang up the phone before Lauren finished talking, your fingers were scrolling up and down into the browser and school blog. You didn't do anything wrong, didn't you? And you never be a hot topic before so you got a little confused and nervous. The first thing you saw, is someone in anonymous replies was talking about you.

Oh, so Lauren wasn't joking.

"What's going on here?" You whispered, "Don't check the other replies, don't check the other replies..."

Your fingers definitely doing the opposite.

@sourgutspill33d

so she stole ellie from anne? such a shame

@miiiddastorch

ellie was just playing with her, guys :( HAHA

@ssal478283.18

I WAS RIGHT. she's a slut by stealing someone's girlfriend. ugh, and if she still have a face to appear in school this monday im gonna kick her ass and fucking spit on her

@plhrmc

ANNE DONT WORRY IM GONNA BRING ELLIE BACK TO YOU <3333

Your eyebrows furrowed, jaw dropped as you didn't believe on what you just saw through your phone.

No, really, you couldn't even tell what is going on right now. Everyone was talking really really bad to you, they were crossed the line.

Ellie? Anne? And you?

"What the fuck did I do?"

[midmourn]

mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)

title mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)

pairing huang renjun x gender neutral!reader

summary you and your friends always sit at the table a couple down from mine and talk shit in madarin, which happens to be a language i’m currently learning. i’ve been eavesdropping to try and improve my listening comprehension and oh my god are you actually talking about how pretty i am???

characters huang renjun, zhong chenle [nct], liu yangyang [wayv], hwang yeji [itzy]

warnings none but it does imply you speak korean as well

word count 812

author’s note rewrite from my old blog. italics = mandarin

Here’s the thing: you were pretty firm on privacy. You didn’t like yours getting invaded by nosy people, and even have scolded so many for doing so. Yet, here you were; eavesdropping. You were no better than them.

You usually tried to ignore the group of boys that always sat at the same table, talking shit about people in their lives in Mandarin.

But could anyone really blame you? When the pretty boy with stars for eyes kept glancing over in your direction and commenting to his friends in Mandarin, “Aren’t they so pretty? … No, the one facing us.”

You ducked your head, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you barely managed to hide your growing smile. If you just smiled at seemingly nothing, you’d seem like a weirdo.

Yeji eyed you with a weird look, brows furrowing, “What’s got you all smiley, huh?” She poked you in the arm with her pen.

You shushed her quietly, shaking your head as you leaned in to whisper to her, “You see the boy with the white cardigan?” When she briefly looked over and nodded, you continued, “He’s telling his friend about how pretty I am in Mandarin.” You giggle.

A grin rose on her lips, looking over again, “What’s he saying now?”

“His friend’s asking why he won’t come talk to me,” you keep your head down, seemingly focused on your laptop. “Stop looking over there! You’ll get us caught.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she giggled, looking down at her notebook. “Hey, what’s the answer for number two?”

“You’re only on two?” Your mouth dropped open in shock. Yeji shrugged, cheeks flaring. “It’s C. Anyways, he’s saying he won’t ‘cause he doesn’t want to embarrass himself if I was already taken,” you hum, glancing up momentarily and accidentally making eye contact with the cute boy.

His cheeks flushed red, head snapping back to his friends, “They just caught me looking at them! See!” His friend’s head turned to look at you, “No! Don’t look, dumbass!”

“I agree, he’s a dumbass, but look at what?” A dark haired boy joined the conversation, speaking in Korean instead of Mandarin.

His friend hushed him, “Shut up! Don’t speak in Korean.”

The boy blinked.

“Don’t look, but you see the person studying with the girl with braids in her hair behind me?” The boy with his back towards you asked the new boy. You could see out of the corner of your eye that the new boy looked towards your direction anyway.

“Dude,” the cute boy groaned in exasperation, putting his face in his hands.

“He asked if I could see them! How was I not supposed to look?”

“Whatever, Renjun thinks they’re pretty.” Renjun was the boy’s name, huh? You smiled to yourself.

“They are. Go tell them that, ge,” the boy said.

“Are you crazy? I’m not going to make a fool out of myself!” The cute boy’s—Renjun— voice cracked cutely at the end.

“Why not? You don’t know what will happen!” The other nameless boy said.

“They’re way too pretty for me,” Renjun shook his head again, cheeks red as he kept making small glances to you. You felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. “I said no,” he added firmly in Korean when the boy opened his mouth to speak again.

The boy shrugged, “Fine, I will.” Ignoring Renjun’s protests, he stood and made his way to you. Your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of confrontation. You scribbled a word on your notebook, pretending to be busy. When he approached your table, both you and Yeji looked up. “Hi, I’m Chenle. You see my friend over there?” Your heads turned to see that Renjun was now clutching the menu, hiding behind it. Chenle sighed in disappointment, “Yeah, the weirdo hiding behind the menu. Anyways, he thinks you’re pretty.”

You knew this already, but your cheeks flushed red. You smiled, “I know.” Chenle’s brows rose in shock at your confession and you could hear the other boy voice his confusion at their table, making you giggle. “I know Mandarin.” You looked at the time on your phone and smiled again, looking up at Yeji, “It’s getting late, my mom will kill me if I’m not home before eight.” Chenle watched as the two of you got up.

You grabbed a paper and pen, quickly writing on it before giving it to Chenle, “Give this to your friend.” You looked up and sent a wink, but in your head, you were freaking out, but managed to keep your cool.

You finished packing your things up and smiled one last time at the group of boys before walking out with your friend.

Renjun grabbed the paper hastily from Chenle and started to read it, his cheeks getting even more red if possible.

i think you’re pretty cute too, and my name’s y/n.

so now that you know mine, i think it’s fair enough that i know yours. :)

***-***-****

- y/n <3

main masterlist

networks @k-films

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

hi, i first want to say that i absolutely love your writing !! i was wondering if you could write daughter of poseidon x leo valdez hc ?

⋆⭒˚.⋆ leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader hcs

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader hcs warning: language, tbh i went kinda crazy with the silly goofiness but i have no shame author's note: YOU WANT TO HEAR ABOUT MY THEORIES???? IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ABOUT MY THEORIES- im so sorry for the person this request turned me into

ALL TIME FAV ALL TIME FAV ALL TIME FAVE ALL TIME FAVE

sorry, minor possession, moving on

ALL TIME FAVE ALL TIME FAV-

its not funny, i apologize

no but fr, i live for this shit

this is me core at it's finest

if you can't tell, all the long fics for leo are x daughter of poseidon bc i am obsessed with myself and i deserve it

my blog i run it how i want

bitch

STOP GETTING SIDE TRACKED

okay, okay, so this man met you at your absolute worst

HEAR ME OUT LEMME FINISH

im sorry but your brother, the light of your life, is missing and your just supposed to be like??fine??

no, girly is going through it

nightmares, sleepless nights, grief, no more eating for her too much guilt

who knows the last time percy had a good meal? who knows the last time percy slept on a bed? who knows if percy is even alive?

you get where her mind was??

yeah, and then tweedle dee here shows up

bro is like, is that attractive young woman sad? i shall fix this with humor and charm

and he rides off into the sunset

no but okay hes hang about you and says something to make you laugh and he doesn't think anything of it, going back to what he was doing

but then later, annabeth grabs him with tears in her eyes and is like

"that's the first time she's laughed since he's been gone. we've all missed y/n, thank you for bringing her back."

bro is GUTTED

and the determined to never let you go another day without laughing for the rest of your life

i liked to imagine that he is not exactly the biggest fan of the water, being a texas boy born and raised he has no need to cool down

it's legit 110 degrees out and bro is like 'why are you whining about the heat?? i'm actually kinda chilly, could you grab me a sweater?"

so, while you surf and play in the water, he just sits on the beach and tinkers away

every time you come back and plant a salty kiss on his lips, he's got a new gift for you

you name it, he's made it.

rings? duh

necklaces? obvi

metal hair ties that don't tug hair out and also don't give you a headache?

do you even have to ask at this point??

and when leo meets percy he's all nervous bc in his mind he's like 'future brother in law. must impress.'

so he's like "your sister is super cool and hot-...wait-"

"what did you just say?" percy questions, hoping it was his amnesia making him hear things

"yeah, what did you just say? you think i'm hot?" you question, all blushy and cute

"so i did hear that correctly. cool, cool, cool. i'd start running, btw," percy cuts in, causally, producing a sword as leo ran away like a cartoon character

don't worry, they grow to love each other

their favorite pass time is to gang up on you, don't worry.

these two working together to prank your ass?? yeah, it's done for.

leo just brings out the best of the daugther of the sea and everyone can see it

and everyone's grateful to him for bringing the bubbly girl back from the deep end

DEAR GOD WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN I DESERVE IT I'VE BEEN GOOD- AASHDIUASDHEWUIRHBSD (that's the sound of me throwing up my liver btw okay gg bye bye)

[soulbutterlanguages]

How to build a language self-study plan

So I’ve noticed, upon combing through pages and pages of youtube videos and google blogs, that rarely does anyone ever actually tell you what you should be studying. There’s a reason for this ! Everyone is different and at a different level, different motivation. It’s impossible to create a study plan that is perfect for everyone... which is why it can also be agonizing to make one for yourself. 

“How am I supposed to know what’s important to study, if I don’t speak the language?” 

Well that’s a good question! You need to gauge how far you’ve come so far and how far you’d like to get. It’s easiest when you are starting from zero because you can learn the alphabet, numbers, basic phrases, and basic grammar. Easy peasy. You can go cover to cover in a text book. 

Here’s a check-list to create the perfect study plan special to you. 

1. What do I know already? What do I need to work on?

- is it worth starting a textbook, if you feel like you already know half of it? It might be worth completing the given exercises and if you achieve an 80% or higher (or you could give that lesson to someone else) then you can move on from that specific point.

- create a list of the points that you still need to master

2. What do I need to include in a study session?

- naturally there needs to be a focus or a few different focuses of a study session, whether it’s a specific activity or a grammar point. I recommend creating a list of things you want to get done (a.) every day, (b) every week, and (c) every month. These goals must be quantifiable. For example, every week I read two news articles in German. As a reflection, I then write a summary of the event of the article as well as a personal opinion. That’s an easy box to check.

- you need a reflection. It’s important to really take time to reflect on how you feel about the time spent and the materials used. What could you do better next time? What went well? 

3. When is the best time to study? 

- are you more active/focused in the morning or in the night? The key is consistency. If you have a routine, you’re far more likely to adhere to it. I know that my own schedule is highly changeable and that can make it very difficult, but I’ve found if I wake up in the same period of time every morning, brush my teeth, make my bed, and then sit down to my work, I feel far more productive. 

- how much should I study at a time? The recommended period is 25 minutes from the Pomodoro Method with a five minute break. You can research time-management techniques but ultimately it comes down to you. 

4. How do I take notes ?

- IT”S ALL ABOUT YOU! What I do is take messy notes in classes or on my own and then I transcribe the finished page to my Notion page. It gives me a chance to make the notes neater and also to review a little bit. I will say though statistically, you will remember better if you write by hand. 

- I like to have a column on each page for words I didn’t know

[rainylana]

“Pinky promise.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: you can only keep it in for so long without him knowing how shitty your life had been, and when the dam breaks, he’s there to help.

warnings: reader’s parents are getting divorced and has siblings, mentions of unhealthy eating habits and exhaustion, angst to fluff, talk of panic attacks, reader has a breakdown:( language.

a/n: hey there:) i know! it’s been a while since i posted and i’m sorry for that. i just didn’t feel like writing. but here i am:) it! i missed you all!:))) drop by in my inbox for any requests or questions or anything! i’d love to hear from you<3 i’m really happy with how this turned out and i hope you love it as much as i do! it tugs on the heart strings:)

taglist!

@phantomxoxo @imdoingbetternow @eddiemania @eddiemunson @ohlovelyhollow @tessiemessie @rovckwell @delilahtaylorsverson @aa-li-yah @ches-86 @xx-hospitalforsouls-xx-blog @kellysimagines @blowing-mikey @underthebatcape @lillianofliterature @noturmom15 @supercalifragilisticprincess @tripthlightfantastic @edzmunsonswife @itiscj @hearts4laura @livasaurasrex @mic429 @avobabe87 @flowers-and-tsukki @lexthemess21 @nothisispatric @heeyitsg @genuine-possum @fvcking-gxddess @kneelforloki @actuallybarb @justaproudslytherpuff @no0neknowsm3 @cosmic-lavender @your-starless-eyes-remain @bellasfavoritesweatpants @antigoneidk @averysblog @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @chaos-incorp @kaqua @softyutae @ahzysauce @imangy @ultimate-sdmn-trash @fionnthebandersnacc @imabadarsebard @catherinnn @cheri86

Eddie didn’t know how bad it was. And it wasn’t because he was oblivious or not smart enough to see. You were just that good of an actor. You truly knew deep down that he would not berate you for feeling the way you did, but the last thing you wanted to be was seen as an unstable girlfriend just looking for attention. But things really had been bad, and it all seemed to pile up on each other.

You found yourself getting mad at little things, your anxiety ticking away like an explosive ready to detonate. Your dreams were plagued with nightmares that lasted all night long, and damn it, you just found it hard to get up in the morning.

But Eddie, the poor boy, didn’t have a clue about your struggles. You kept up a smile at all times. You laughed and played your part like you were supposed to. Just because you were having a difficult time didn’t mean you had to bring down his party, or anyone else’s, for that matter.

It’s just your parents divorce was finally getting to you. You were happy they were calling it quits, as were your siblings, but the days up until it’s finalization was brutal. The fighting and screaming was endless and your siblings were scared and didn’t understand. You couldn’t concentrate in class and you failed a test that you’d thought you were going to pass. You were having panic attacks almost on the daily. You spilled grape juice on your white socks. It was just one thing after another.

Of course, Eddie did know about your parent’s separation, but any time he brought it up, you chalked it up to him believing you were taking it well. You were a good actress. Today however, your dam would break, because you could only take so much.

“You didn’t bring me a surprise snack today?” Dustin’s big eyes widened in a playful sadness that quirked your lips up in a smirk. “But you always bring me a surprise snack! What else am I going to have for dessert!”

“You’re cleaning out my girlfriend’s pantry, Henderson.” Eddie’s chair tipped backwards as he threw a pretzel at his friend across the cafeteria table. “Can’t you bring your own shit?”

“Sorry, bud.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking in your empty lunchbox. “If it makes you feel any better, I forgot my stuff too.”

Eddie internally frowned and scooted his snack over to you, pointing so you could eat. Gareth was rambling on about the movies playing at the cinema that weekend, so you didn’t speak to interrupt him, but you smiled softly as you picked up a pretzel. The cafeteria buzzed with loud conversation, making your head hurt worse than it already did. You weren’t eating as well as you should be, and you knew that wasn’t benefiting your mood, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

You felt guilty for being dramatic. You were being dramatic. Others had it worse, that was always what you told yourself, so there was no reason to wallow in your own misery. But god, all you wanted to do was lay your head on the table and plug your ears so hard that they bled and you wouldn’t have to hear a sound.

So instead, you forced yourself to smile and eat, leaning over to squeeze Eddie’s hand while Gareth continued holding the talking stick.

• 

Your fingers were tapping anxiously against the steering wheel of your vehicle, head thrown back as you tried not to loose your shit. It was almost seven o’clock in the evening. You were parked outside of the school debating whether or not to go inside to find Eddie. Tears were rolling down your face, nose stuffy and crusted from your previous meltdown.

Your little sister came to you crying again, talking about how she’d overheard your parents screaming about who was going to have custody. It was the same old tune between them. You didn’t worry about custody, but the kids did, and that didn’t make it right. They were too young to hear that kind of thing and if absolutely broke your heart. She’d cried in your arms until she fell asleep in your bed, and then you broke.

It was just so stressful. Every little thing seemed a million times harder to accomplish. Simple tasks seemed almost unbelievable to approach. You just wanted a good nights sleep. You didn’t know how you ended up outside of the school, but Eddie was there. It was hellfire night, and damn it, you just couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him. You tried to wipe your tears as best as you could, wrapping your flannel sleeves around your torso as you scurried into the school. You had a quick walk to your step as your heart beat loudly in your ear.

Just the sound of his voice was enough to calm you, and you leaned against the door to take a few deep breaths and to wipe at your face. You began to regret coming over. He was having fun. His voice was loud and booming, the puppet master commanding his puppets to follow his every wish. You were about to ruin it.

Everyone’s eyes looked up when the door creaked open, and a wide smile beamed onto Eddie’s face at the sight of you. “There’s my princess!” He clapped his hands. “Come on, come on, we’re just getting started.” He waved you over.

The lights were dim enough that he couldn’t see the emotions on your face. You dug your nails in your palm was you walked over to his throne, smiling your best at the boy’s greetings. When you got to Eddie’s side, his free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he shook dice in his other hand. You had a lump in your throat that continued to build.

“Eddie,” You said softly, your voice cracking as you looked down bashfully. “Can I talk to you?”

He peeked up a little but didn’t look at you fully. “Yeah, baby, just give me one second.”

You melted more into his side, bringing up your fingers to naw on. You felt like you were going to faint. Your eyes began to burn and you squeezed his shoulder. He laughed loudly at everyone’s dismay at the roll of his dice. He looked up at you to see you laugh, but he wasn’t met with that. His eyes narrowed and his lips parted at the sight of your tearful eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He panicked, scooting back in his chair.

Your face crumpled and you shook your head, crossing your arms shamefully in embarrassment. You looked so small and you hated yourself for it. He grabbed your elbows and scanned over your face, gulping in his own anxiety.

“Y/n, hey-” He looked over to the door across the room, and he cupped your cheek and turned you around to guide you to privacy.

Once he shut the door, leaving the guys confused and whispering back and forth, he turned around and stepped toward you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He frowned deeply, voice an octave higher in concern.

You only buried yourself in his arms, sobbing in his shoulder like a little girl who couldn’t find her parents. Ironic.

“Hey, hey,” He wrapped his arms right around you. “What happened? What’s going on?”

It felt so nice to be held by him, like all your problems were going to melt away like snow in the spring. “Everything.” You blubbered against his jean jacket, his chin tucked aside of your head. “It’s everything, Eddie. Everything’s falling apart.”

He squeezed you tighter when you let out a string of wincing sobs, eyes narrowed in confusion at your sudden breakdown. “What’s falling apart, baby? Talk to me. Tell me what happened.” He rubbed your back soothingly.

You pushed your face into his chest so you didn’t have to breath, squeezing your eyes shut and your nose scrunching up where it hurt. You shook your head, whimpering, and he rocked you softly as he held the back of your head.

“Did someone hurt you?” He spoke with a protective tone.

You shook your head quickly. He didn’t need to start anymore fights. Your head pounded from the lack of air you allowed yourself, and Eddie’s eyes narrowed when you gulped loudly. He gently pulled you away and widened his eyes at your pale face. “Take a breath, baby.” He cupped each side of your face.

Your waists ghosted each other’s and his elbows nearly touched your shoulders as he held your face, wiping away tears as you sniffled and carried on. “I’m sorry.” You spewed, sobbing in his grasp.

“No, no,” He shook his head, whispering softly with a breath. “Don’t. You’re okay.”

He waited a minute for the color to return to your face, holding and softly rocking you as you tried to control your emotions. He wiped away each tear and tucked away strands of your soft hair. Once you began to calm down, you could barely look him in the eye.

“It’s my parents.” You blinked down to his stomach. “They’re fighting.”

“Fighting?” He rubbed the space behind your ear.

“A lot.” You forced out with a shake in your voice. “Like..like all the time and the kids are scared.”

Eddie’s heart swelled when you wouldn’t look at him. This sudden admittance about your family was shocking. As far as he had known, it was going smoothly.

“Bethy is worried about who’s going to custody over us,” Your eyes burned and you pressed your hand against your face, sobbing. “Eddie, all they do is fight. It’s constant and- and I don’t know how to make the girls feel any better. I feel so guilty and it’s- it’s not my job to make them f-feel better. Mom and dad should be doing that.”

Eddie rubbed up and down your arms as he listened to you, soft brown eyes pierced with concern and worry.

“And i’ve been having panic attacks.” You burned shamefully, barely looking up at him through wet lashes. “I keep waking up in the middle of the night just- just terrified and I don’t know why. My heart races so fast and I feel so..so freaked out and it scares me so bad.”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, his thumb circulating your brow. “I can’t eat and I just- I just feel so tired all the time. My grades are slipping and I don’t even have fucking energy to take a shower.”

You covered your face with your hands and looked up to the ceiling with a groan. “And I spilled grape juice on my socks.”

It took Eddie a minute before he could figure out his next move. You didn’t blame him. You dumped a boatload of information on him when he’d fully believed everything in your life was peachy keen. He sighed deeply in guilt before he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into him.

“Fuck- baby, I’m so sorry.” He sighed regretfully, burying his face in your shaking shoulders. “I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.”

“It’s not your fault.” You sank into him. “I’m the one who’s been keeping it from you.”

“Why?” He kissed your temple, rubbing up and down your back.

“I didn’t want to bother you with my..well, my shitty life. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Eddie pulled away to lift your chin up toward him, his eyes looking into yours. “You’re my girl, y/n. I’m always going to worry about you. I wish you would of told me about all this. I would have helped you.”

“I know.” You whimpered shamefully. “I’m sorry.”

“Quit that.” He gave your head a little shake, rocking your waist gently. “You have nothing to apologize for. You just need to tell me these things, okay? If you’re suffering then I want to know about it.”

God, he was amazing. You felt foolish for not letting him take care of you sooner. You blushed and leaned your forehead on his chin, groaning softly as your tears dried. “Why are you so perfect, Eddie? I’m an ugly mess.”

He ignored your statement with a roll of his eyes, shifting his weight and moving to lean against the cement wall, allowing you to fully and comfortably relax against him. “How long have you been having panic attacks?” His legs were kicked out slightly, yours atop of his as you cuddled his chest.

“A few weeks.” You said with a shameful mutter. “I thought I was having a heart attack at first. I got so close to going to the hospital.”

Eddie closed his eyes in disbelief. “Jesus, baby, I’m so sorry.” He hugged you. “Please, promise me you’ll let me know when you start feeling that way, please? I hate that you’ve been suffering alone.”

You nodded and held up your pinky, Eddie’s chest vibrating with an amused chuckle. He brought up his hand and wrapped his larger, callused finger around yours and gave it a gentle shake. “Pinky promise.” You kissed the tip of his finger.

[machiten]

thats my seat!

academic rival scaramouche x gn!reader headcanons

warnings: scaramouche(bro is a whole warning), foul language(it's scaramouche we're talking about here so), reader is mentioned to have bad eyesight, fights, angst, academic validation, bad parenting

barely proofread lmao im tired, it's 3:15 am and im starving. there will be a chapter 2 ofc i just wanted to post something goddamn my blog has been empty for so long (4 days) didn't have a way to keep track of the word count but it's kinda long. anyways hope u enjoy!!

oh god

when i say rival, i mean full on brawls on the school hallway

so let's say you've been top of your school since day one. your name has always been at the top of the score board every exam, always class representative, and well known as a smart kid ever since you steped on school premises.

you work hard to keep your grades up, your parents pay enough attention to your succesful brother and none for you

having a successful brother plants high expectations on you. i mean, he did very well, so why cant you? you both have the same blood running through your veins. your parent's praise, that is all you've ever wanted. and yet you're not even informed if there's a family outing, leaving you in your house alone

it has been like that for years

not until one day, you enter into the classroom and someone else is sitting in your chair. someone unfamiliar is sitting on your chair.

"hey, excuse me. i sit there." you pointed at what is supposed to be, your chair. "what, i dont see any names on it." Ok, what. when you finally look up to the culprit, my goodness. Fierce purple eyes that looks like it holds the entire universe, his skin as fair as a maiden, lips plum as a springs fruit, a beauty mark at the underside of his right eye, and his hair a unique color of indigo that is cut in a weird jellyfish-ish hairstyle. while yes, he looks ethereal, not gonna lie (if he had longer hair you might've mistaken him as a girl) his personality certainly does not match his elegance. an annoyed look currently adorned his face, as if you disturbed his peace.

"done checking me out? i know im hot, i get that look everyday so dont ever think you're special." and now it changed into a cocky smirk. the nerve! not only is he sitting on someone else's chair but it seems like his head is getting bigger too. "well excuse me, i havent seen your around school until today so im guessing that you're the transfer student our teacher talked about last week. but do you mind finding a new spot, i sit there." you glared at him.

"no i like it here. here's a better idea, why don't you find a new spot. im the new student here, show some courtesy."

"no- what, go away thats my seat!"

"alright everyone, settle down- oh, i see that the new student is here already," the teacher finally came in the classroom, cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand. Everyone sat down on their seats while you are still standing up waiting for this person to look for another seat. Lmao guess what, he didnt move.

"(name), c'mon sit down. i know getting a new friend is exiting but we have to greet the new student properly. now go find your seat."

"wait but sir--"

"sit down, (name)"

"yeah that's right (name), sit down" a voice beside you spoke. you looked over to the new student adorning a triumphant grin at your loss. and so you are now forced to sit at the back, barely seeing what's in front because of your poor eyesight, and wearing a vengeful spirit.

epic first meeting

the seats in the back are okay, its breezy and you now sit next to xiao (his music taste is so good) but yeah, you cant really see the board clearly so you get notes from mona at the front

at first, it was a one sided rivalry. how hated how rude and bratty he was and at that time, he didnt seem too care (like he get those everyday). but then he started fighting back and oh boy he hasn't had this much fun in years!

the way you retort back to his harsh words is so amusing to him. usually, no one would dare talk to him in a degrading manner but then you came into his life, claiming that he's sitting on your chair, and it was never the same ever again.

now, he looks forward to everyday. he rises up earlier so that he can sit at your chair first, he keeps looking at the classroom door everytime someone enters (in case it's you so that he can give that shit eating grin), he loves how your face gets messed up when he wins an argument, he loves how small your hands are compared to his when you have a brawl in the hallways, and most of all, he loves it when you give him the shit eating grin when you win something (he says he let's you win sometimes because he pitied you, but is it really?)

to him, this is fun, amusing, entertaining. but to you? you've never felt this much hate in a human being, ever.

scaramouche is smart as fuck and he demonstrated that loud and clear

he aced the math test that the teacher gave that wasn't even taught to him

in presentations, he speaks loud and clear and you can really understand the point he's making

he doesn't really like group works (you noticed) but if he was put in a group, he does most of the job flawlessly

sports? oh of course. he's really good at baseball (pitcher). he's also good at other sports but not as good as baseball

oh and pray that you don't get him as your opponent in debates, you will be grilled like a brisket

did i mention he sleeps in like 70% of his classes? it's not like the teachers can do anything about it. he excels in everything, at least let him sleep as a gift

the only times he would be awake is when he pulls on your strings

but of course, you're also good in all of these, that's why you both are rivals

you fight almost everyday for the top spot (and for your original seat) to the point where its a daily routine to everyone else to see you both pinching and arguing in the classroom

He doesn't have any close friends (ahem childeahem) and it's either bc ppl are intimidated by him or he just doesnt give a fuck about friends

maintaining grades is one thing, winning against him is another

you are very intellegent, yes, but you work very hard for your grades every night. losing sleep studying for upcoming quizes and making sure your projects are perfect. unlike him who doesnt even try

you havent seen him study once

and it makes you see yourself lower. you're both equally in par with your grades but thats when he doesn't even try. what happens when he takes everything seriously? what if he studies as hard as you do? where will you stand then?

but when you got 2nd place for the 3rd time this year, he took it too far

"what the hell?! this is the third time!" you looked at the results in the bulletin board expecting to see your name in first place. you studied hard, right? so then why,,,

"oh oops, looks like i did a little too well again this time. aw and i didn't even answer some of the questions because i felt bad for beating you the last two times." a snicker is heard behind you and sure enough, piercing indigo eyes is looking at yours in pure pity. "thanks i guess. are you happy now? that's three times in a row!" aether beside you is now having a deadpan expression, expecting the worst. 'alright here we go again'.

"oh yes very, you know what makes me even happier? your declaration that you're inferior to me. why do you even try anyways, it's clear to everyone that im better. you're just wasting your time burying your head in your books and notes when we both already know who's coming at the top. imagine not meeting your parent's expectations." he's now looking down on you, beating you up with words that you know damn well are true. but that doesn't mean you're not gonna fight back.

"what."

"oh you know, maybe if you tried harder, the cost of your education might be worth it for your parents. honestly, if i we're them id--"

before he could finish his sentence, a loud echoing smack is heard all across the hallway, making everyone's attention turn to the commotion. scaramouche head is now turned the other way, his cheeks beginning to flare from the hit as he glared at the culprit, you. "you motherfucking bitc-!" you tackled him and due to surprise, he fell back. aether is now alert, shouting your name trying to get you to your senses.

you gripped scramouche's collar, rasing his head from the floor and slamming it back down. "you're an asshole, you know that?! i try my best everyday and this is what i get?!!" he fights back, hand on your arm that's trying to get a hold of his hair and another on your neck, holding back your weight.

"you don't know what it's like!! you will never know what it's like being compared to your brother everytime they get a chance!! you dont know what it's like going home to nothing but words of disappointment when you did everything you can to get their approval!! you will never know what it's like for your efforts to go to waste!! you will never know the feeling of being kicked out of your own home and live in a run down apartment!! i work day and night, i lose sleep everyday, i barely have anything for myself to live, and now i have to deal with your ass every single day too?!!"

"(name)! calm down, hey-!"

"fuck off aether!"

every word you spat pricked scaramouche's heart and made him struggle from your assaults. this isn't fun anymore. he knew a bit of your situation, kazuha told him. but he never knew it was this bad. all he knew is about your parent's expectations. he didn't even attempt to fight back this time and just defends himself from your blows. 'shit, i took it too far.'

"you dont have to remind me of my incompetence! i already know, i know damn well i will never be enough!! you're right, why do i even try, right?! you're so fucking annoying, doing everything so effortlessly, like school is a nuisance!! can't i take a fucking break?!!" at this point, you cannot control your tears from falling into his cheeks, rolling down his porcelain skin.

"what are you--?!"

"why can't i be a genius like you?! why dont i have everything that you have?!! i did everything i can, what am i doing wrong?!" you are now saying intangible words that no one can decipher because of the mess of emotions you are feeling at that moment. you're about to deliver another blow when someone held you back.

"(name)! you're doing too much! thats enough!!" goddamn she is stronger than i thought, scaramouche deals with this everyday?? aether pulled you away from the tangled mess that you and scaramouche managed to create. you're struggling his hold but after a bit, you slumped down having no more strength to keep going, sobbing quietly. "...(name)?" aether said.

"...i am so tired of everything, why do i even keep trying. i.. i just want to make my parents proud..." sniffles could be heard from where you are being held my aether's arms. aether supported you from the groud and led you away from the scene and the prying eyes of other students. before you both can disappear completely, aether turned around and gave scaramouche a threatening glare. "i know you both bicker a lot but you took it too far. you are an asshole and you better change that attitude of yours or i will send you home even worse than your condition right now." and you both are gone.

scaramouche is still sitting on the floor, his arm supporting his weight, bruises are forming in his skin while he's craddling his cheek that is now very noticeably red and flaring from the slap you served him earlier. he doesn't know how to act, really. should he apologize? should he just walk away and like nothing happened? should he report you for physical abuse? he didn't know anything.

what he does know though is that he fucked up, big time. he knows that you'll never want to see his face ever again, he knows that nothing will be the same again, and he knows thag the feelings he has will never be reciprocated, after what he's done.

he actually just found out recently, when someone from the other class was making fun of you and he didn't like it one bit, he's the only one allowed to make fun of you, everyone back off. scaramouche can see the crowd dissipating, no longer interested since the main action is gone. he sat there on the floor the whole time, rethinking his life choices, wondering if he said things differently instead of those. would he be seeing you tomorrow? will you still argue with him about nonsensical bullshit? can he still hold your hand whenever you pinch him?

he heard footsteps and before he can look up, someone had smacked him in the head.

"what the fuck-!!"

"i want to say 'are you okay', but to be honest you kinda deserved that." a mop of ginger can bee seen hanging from someone's head.

"fuck off childe, and why did you smack me?!"

"because you deserve it. but y'know, it's nice having front row seats seeing you ruin your life because of that toungue of yours. aether's right you're an ass." he helped scaramouche from the floor, dusting his uniform from the filth. "ill take you to the infirmary." scaramouche can only nod, feeling lethargic after all that energy spent.

he hopes to see you the next day, acting like nothing ever happened.

part 2

[viking-raider]

Salt in Our Wounds - CHAPTER IV

Summary-> Gus is healing and moving about. However, nothing is sunshine around the house.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 3.3k

Chapters-> I II III

Warnings-> PG-13: Language, Deception, References to WWII

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

“You told our father what?” Edmund barked, as you met him outside the cottage, the next morning.

You had peeked out the window for him, ever since you woke.

“Well,” You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “It was Gus that thought on his feet and told Papa that he was working with you on things around the house.” You repeat yourself, licking your lips. “We had to tell him something, when he found Gus coming out of the bathroom, after his shower.”

Edmund carded a hand through his hair and paced on the small porch. “So, you told him that Gus was a carpenter from another village, who's come over to help me put up shelves in the basement and do repairs around the cottage?”

“Yes.” You nodded, fidgeting. “What else were we to tell him, Eddie? I just opened the front door and grabbed some random man off the street, who looked as if he needed a shower?” You huffed, a tad frustrated.

“No.” He sighed, waving his hand, a tired expression coming over his face. “No, the two of you did the right thing. I suppose it's just as good an excuse to explain him to Pops than any other.” He exhaled again and stopped pacing. “Right well, is the man handy with a hammer or saw?”

“I haven't the slightest clue.”

“I'll find out.” Edmund replied, motioning you both inside and found Gus sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading his book.

Edmund looked at you with a lifted brow and you gave him a look that said, why not, since your father knew he was there, making your brother roll his eyes.

“Good morning, Edmund.” Gus greeted him, setting his book down.

“Morning.” He answered, narrowing his eyes at the other man, sitting nonchalantly at the table. “Are you ready to work today?” He asked, squaring his shoulders.

“I am.” Gus answered, taking a gulp of his coffee, unphased.

“Not before the two of you eat breakfast.” You spoke up, pulling your apron on. “So, park yourself at the table.” You ordered Edmund, pointing to the chair across from Gus, defusing the brewing cloud of male bravado.

Sighing, Edmund pulled the chair out and plopped into it, giving you a short nod as you set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. Blowing gently on it, he stared across at Gus, who had returned to his book, but felt the other man's eyes on him and lifted a brow over the top of his page. Edmund cocked a brow back at him.

“So, Gus.” Your father called out from the sitting room, having kept his own eye on him since Gus appeared upstairs.

“Yes, sir?” Gus answered, respectfully setting his book down again and tilting slightly to the side to give Mael his attention.

“Why aren't you fighting in the War?”

“Papa!” You gasped, head jerking in his direction, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “That's rude.” You whined at him, frowning.

“It's all right.” Gus replied, smiling sweetly at you. “I don't mind.” He assured you, then looked back at Mael. “I'm a Conscientious Objector, being Evangelical.” He explained to him, causally.

Mael stared at Gus for a long while, fluttering and tapping the pencil between his fingers against his map. The sizzle of hotcake batter on the red-hot griddle and the bubble of the percolator on the counter filling the quiet space, as no one spoke. Finally, Edmund grunted, shrugging his shoulders and taking another sip of his coffee, putting the atmosphere back into some reasonable balance.

“At least, he's not a deserter or a Nazi.” Edmund commented, putting his coffee cup down and picking up the newspaper you'd set on the table.

“Exactly.” You trumpeted, nodding your head, a tingle of relief running through you, turning back to the griddle to flip the hotcakes. “How many cakes do you want, Papa?” You asked, shoveling the steaming rounds onto a serving plate.

“Three, Peanut.” He answered, still tapping his pencil, but his eyes had shifted to the uneven hardwood floor.

Nodding, you shifted three over onto his plate, before taking up a knife and cutting another in half, adding one half with his three, knowing sometimes three weren't enough, but four could be too much for him.

“Boys?” You called over your shoulder, cracking an egg onto the griddle, beside the two fresh pools of batter.

“Four, please.” Gus chimed, turning a page.

“Same.” Edmund replied, squinting at the small print of the article he was trying to read.

Humming to yourself, you finished cooking up the batter and made everyone an egg, before doling out plates. Everyone had just dug in, when a knock sounded on the door. You and Edmund tensed, eyeing each other, a silent conversation going between you.

“Don't be rude!” Mael huffed around a mouthful of food.

Sighing, you stood up and answered it, finding Dr. Tremblay on your doorstep, black bag in hand, a flood of relief washing over you.

“Oh! Good morning, Dr. Tremblay.” You greeted him, glancing behind you to Gus and Edmund.

“Good morning, mon chéri.” Tremblay smiled at you, kissing your cheek and glancing into the house and spotting Gus at the table, enjoying his breakfast. “I see my patient is feeling better.” He commented, lifting a bushy white brow.

“He is.” You nodded, stepping to the side. “Please, come in. Would you like some coffee or tea?” You asked, biting your lip nervously.

“Tea would be nice, oui.” Dr. Tremblay answered, setting his bag on the table.

Edmund looked at the respected senior and cocked a brow over his shoulder to his father, hoping to indicate not speaking of Gus's injury and real purpose in the house. Tremblay returned a squinty eyed glare, just as you set down his cup of tea, making you chuckle at the two of them.

“What's brought you over so early, Sacha?” Mael asked, forking a hotcake into his mouth, but his eyes were cast over the table.

“Oh,” Tremblay waved his hand dismissively, before reaching out for the sugar pot in the center of the table, dropping two granular, ivory cubes into his teacup. “I came to check up on Edmund.” He replied, looking at your brother with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Heard from Thom that he might need a new pair of glasses. So, I've come to take some measurements.” He said, patting his bag, still sitting on the table.

“You didn't mention anything about that, Ed.” Your father croaked, looking a bit alarmed.

“I didn't want to burden you with it, Pops.” Edmund answered, squeezing the handle of his fork. “No worries though. Doc has it under control.” He grunted, eyes shifting over to Gus.

Everyone finished their breakfast and Edmund showed Tremblay upstairs, under the guise of looking at his eyes in privacy, while Gus excused himself to the bathroom, following the two of them upstairs. You fret a little bit, picking up the dishes from the table and putting them in the sink, the feeling anxious of not knowing if Gus's wound was healing right or if he needed the antibiotics anymore. You wanted to go upstairs and join them. But knew if you did, your father would likely get more suspicious.

“Are we going to take our usual Sunday afternoon stroll around the garden today, Papa?” You asked, putting a plate on the drying rack.

“I'll see how I feel come time, Peanut.” Mael replied, leaning against the arm of his chair to catch every word the radio presenter was saying.

Nodding, you pulled out the mop bucket and carried it out to the garden, using the garden hose to fill it. Leaning against the wall beside the door, you looked up at the morning sky, steely with angry looking, iron-gray clouds drifting by overhead. You drew in a deep breath, filling your nostrils with the cool and salty scent of the sea, but it also had the faint snap of the ozone, the possible threat of chubby raindrops.

“Well, it looks like my nurse took excellent care of me.” Gus's voice chimed in your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Your wound is all right?” You asked, casting your eyes up to his.

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled, filling the doorway. “Healing nicely and should have the stitches out in no time.” He assured you, lifting his jumper a little to show you. “I also don't need any more shots! Which I am thankful for!” He chuckled, but looked at you quickly. “Not that you weren't good at administering them!”

“Oh no!” You giggled, cheeks warm with embarrassment and relief. “I'm just as glad as you are! I would have much preferred Dr. Tremblay make you take the antibiotic by mouth! The idea of sticking you, or anyone, with a needle is frightening. I'm surprised I didn't wound you further in the process.”

Gus smirked, glancing down at his boots. “I doubt you could have. I have thighs the size of tree trunks.” He remarked, biting his lip for a moment. “Your bucket!” He gasped, catching sight of the water spilling over the side.

“Oh shoot!” You snapped, twisting the nozzle off and letting out a sigh.

“I'm sorry, I distracted you.” Gus apologized, watching you tip the bucket slightly to let out the excess water.

“It's all right. I should have been paying attention.” You shrugged, grabbing the handle.

“Here, I'll carry it in for you.” He offered, replacing your hand with his at the handle.

You brushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear and watched him take it inside, before shaking your head, as if to snap yourself out of something, and followed him back inside. “You can put it right there.” You instructed him, going under the sink to grab the bottle of fairy liquid. “Are you going to help my brother?” You asked in a hushed voice, pouring some of the washing up solution in the water, while glancing over at your father, who had dozed off.

“I don't know.” Gus replied, a crease forming between his brows. “I'm not sure your brother is too fond of me.”

“Edmund is...” You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. “Edmund tends to be guarded. Many relationships in his life haven't panned out. With our mother leaving us and his wife—well, Willa has big dreams. She feels have been held back and blames him for that, by keeping them here in Saint-Thurney. So, sometimes, even when he does like someone, he gives them the cold shoulder.”

“He's waiting for the boot to drop.” He nodded, understanding.

“Exactly.” You hummed, grabbing the mop and dripping it into the soapy bucket. “Now, you need to skitter off my kitchen floor, so I can wash it.” You ordered, shooing him.

“Yes, ma'am.” Gus laughed, swiping his book off the kitchen table, gave you a grinning salute and made for the basement, casting one more look back at you, smirking as you started scrubbing the floor. “Do you want any help?” He asked, finding Edmund framing up the shelves against the cellar wall.

Edmund paused, a nail clamped between his lips, bracing his elbow against the board he was nailing, he took the one out of his mouth, answering. “Are you any good at building things?”

“I find my way around a saw, hammer and a nail.” Gus replied, looking around at Edmund's spread-out supplies. “Just tell me what you want done with them.”

“All right.” Edmund nodded, cocking a brow at him. “I need a few more boards cut. I already have them marked to length. You can do that for me.”

“Sure thing, Captain.” Gus replied, going into his makeshift room to set his book down. “What?” He asked the other man's look, lifting one of the pre-marked boards onto the sawhorses, finding the pencil measurements and grabbing the saw that rested against the leg beside him.

“Don't call me that.” Edmund growled, an angry glare in his eyes.

Gus held his gaze for a moment, a faint smirk on his lips. “My apologies.”

The two of them nodded at each other, then turned back to their work.

There was no afternoon walk to be had, the dark clouds from that morning broke open and saturated everything outside, shutting in the residents of Saint-Thurney. Your father continued to doze in his chair, unbothered by the weather pattering the roof like a percussion symphony. Gus and Edmund were still down in the basement, hard at work, coming up periodically for bathroom breaks and refreshments, and you sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea and getting lost in the world of Oliver Twist.

You paused, bringing your teacup to your lips and cast your eyes to the window by the door, sure you had heard something outside, above the rain and carpentry. But saw nothing and shrugged, taking your sip and set the cup down, returning to your sentence. However, a few moments later, you swore you heard it again; putting you on edge.

“Edmund!” You called out, slowly setting your book down, the hairs at the back of your neck began to stand up. You gasped, seeing three men flash by the window. “Edmund!” You shouted, startling your father awake, his eyes wide with panicked alarm.

A thunder of furious pounding sounded on the front door accompanied Edmund and Gus's boots stomping up the basement stairs, frantic and confused. You had rushed over to your father, in an attempt to calm him before he slipped into an episode of shock.

“It's the Patrol!” You cried, rubbing your father's back, eyes trained on the vibrating door, a stream of German demands now being shouted with their banging, mixed with accented French and English.

“Damn my eyes.” Edmund growled, gritting his teeth. “They must be doing random searches, thinking they can catch everyone inside with the weather.” He huffed, wiping at his sweaty brow and glancing at Gus, who seemed startling calm, but tense.

“We have to let them in!” You urged your brother, not liking how angry the Patrol sounded and knowing the longer you waited, the worse it would be.

“I know!” Edmund barked sharply, the gears in his brain spinning for a split second longer, before he took a long step forward and yanked the door open. “What's the meaning of this!? Are you trying to wake the dead?” He demanded, looking the three German Patrol officers over, the Sturmführer was red faced, and all of them were dripping from being forced to wait so long in the rain, for an answer.

“Inspections!” He snapped in Edmund's face, a small bit of spit hanging from his bottom lip.

“Yes, fine!” Edmund replied, rolling his eyes and shoving the door open.

No one moved as the three officers entered the cozy cottage. Your hand shook as it rested on your father's shoulder, periodically massaging it when you felt him tremble, still on the edge of a possible attack from his Shell Shock. Edmund eyed them from his place by the door, sweaty hands clenched into fists as he watched them conduct their inspections. More like a path of intrusive destruction. They yanked books off shelves, opened cabinets and tossed out their contents, pushed over furniture for amusement.

Even nicked things, when they thought the owners weren't looking.

Mael leaned forward slightly, mumbling to himself, causing you to frown. You tried to kneel down to bring your ear close to his mouth and listen to what he was saying, worried for him, but were stopped by one of the officers. He grabbed you roughly by the arm and yanked you up, barking something at you in German that you didn't understand.

“Please, he's not well!” You protested, tugging against him, desperate to care for your father before he slipped too far.

“Nein, bleib, Hexe!” He barked at you, making you cry out, his grasp tightening.

Before Edmund could blink, Gus was halfway across the kitchen, trained on the German holding you, like a bull seeing red. Snarling, with nostrils flaring, Gus twisted his fist in the officer's uniform and yanked them together. Forcing the other man up onto the tip-toes of his black polished boots in the process.

“Let her go!” He barked, giving him a good shake, for effect.

Startled, he let go, you tumbled to the floor at their feet, and rubbed at the burning handprint that was left behind. The air in the cottage thickened dramatically. One of the officer's comrades came rushing in from the garden, hearing the commotion, and fumbled for his sidearm. While their leader came flying downstairs.

“What is this!” The commanding officer demanded, glaring at Gus as he continued to hold his subordinate. “Put my officer down! At once!” He ordered, when Gus didn't move, showing no fear or reluctance towards the three of them, unlike you, Edmund or your father. “Who is this man?” He barked, looking between your brother and father.

“Answer me, at once!” He screamed, face turning red again. “Or I'll have him shot!”

“No!” You cried out, frightened. “Gus, let him go!” You begged him, pulling on his pant leg, desperately. “I'm fine, please!”

“Answer!” The officer growled at the lot of you, his limited patience wearing thin. “Oswin!” He hissed at his officer, who was now pointing his Walther p38 at Gus. “Shoot him!” He ordered, with a hard jerk of his head.

“He's my sister's fiancé!” Edmund blurted out, as Oswin pulled the pistol's slide back, his eyes wild in the heat of the moment, before collecting himself and saying more calmly. “He's just my sister's fiancé.” He gulped, meeting your eye as you looked up at him, stunned, and caught off guard by the omission.

“What man wouldn't protect his betrothed?” He asked the Storm Leader, moving his eyes to Gus.

“A lesser man.” Gus replied, taking the cue, then looked at the commanding officer. “And I'm not a lesser man, to have your filthy runt put his hands on my girl.” He growled, shoving the man away.

“Why have we not seen you before?” He demanded, looking Gus over.

“He was serving, but just returned home, after being wounded.” You explained to him, looking up at Gus. It was the easiest bit of information to give, for them to believe, Gus could show them his wound.

“Is that so?” The officer asked, cocking a brow.

“It is.” Gus answered, pulling up his jumper to show them his bullet wound. “I was wounded in Belgium and discharged. So, I came here to be with her and recover.”

“Can anyone other than those here confirm your story?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the lot of you.

“Yes.” Edmund chimed in, feeling like the situation was on decent grounds. “Dr. Sacha Tremblay. He's been doctoring his wound since he's been back.”

“I will be checking and informing the Director General.” The Storm Leader warned the three of you, and the look in his eyes hinted at his misgiving, waiting for one of you to crack.

“Very well.” Edmund answered, his tone bland, shrugging one shoulder.

The senior officer stared the three of you down for a second longer, before looking to his men, inquiring in German if they had found anything. But the two replied in the negative. There was no contraband or anything that could get any of you in trouble as collaborators to the French Resistance or Allied Powers. Despite Gus standing right there in front of them, plain as day.

Whether they knew that or thought they had enough evidence to take you in, was another story entirely.

[janmisali]

FAQ

Q: wow, you're on tumblr?

A: that's not a question, but yeah, this is the Official blog of youtuber jan Misali. I also have my main blog @hbmmaster where I reblog stuff and make more low-effort text posts.

Q: wait, you're on youtube?

A: yeah, I make videos. for new viewers I recommend checking out the best of jan Misali playlist. for people who already watch and enjoy my videos I recommend watching my inspiration playlist, which is a curated selection of videos I personally keep finding myself coming back to.

Q: can you put your name and pronouns in this FAQ?

A: you can call me Mitch, jan Misali, or Misali. "jan" works too, just make sure not to capitalize it. I use he/they pronouns, with no strong preference between the two sets.

Q: when is [video you've announced] coming?

A: by asking this, you have delayed it by another month. sorry!

Q: when is [series that hasn't had a new installment in a while] returning?

A: when I want to go back to working on it, and no sooner

Q: are you going to make a video about [thing you mentioned in a post]?

A: no. some things are just posts

Q: I want to make something based on something you made. is that okay?

A: I'm not a cop. I broadly approve of any stuff people make that's derivative of my own work, as long as I'm given the appropriate amount of credit for it and you tell me about it once it's posted somewhere so I can see it. the only exceptions to this are if you're like just fully reuploading something I made (not cool!) or if it's something I'd disapprove of even if it wasn't derivative of my work (do not write fanfiction with me in it, or like, south park character AI covers of song translations I've made).

Q: you're into languages, right? how many languages do you speak?

A: none

Q: what font do you use in your videos?

A: Noto Serif

Q: what software do you use to make videos?

A: Google Slides and Audacity

Q: can you reblog the scoobypost again?

A: only if you ask nicely.

questions about "the /hj tone indicator is worse than useless" (March 2023)

Q: I think what /hj (half-joking) is supposed to mean is...

A: the reason I find /hj confusing is not, in fact, that not enough people have told me their own personal definitions of what they think it means. I do not need or want to hear any more, thank you.

Q: I think I get what the /oj anon was saying, it's something like...

A: I am not exaggerating by saying that I spent years coming up with interpretations of what the /oj anon could have meant. there is a 0% chance that I haven't at some point considered the exact interpretation you're suggesting. if you want to share your interpretation with someone, find a different person who thinks they understand it and tell them instead of me.

[saintblk]

*ೃ— ANTISOCIAL | NANAMI KENTO

warnings: foul language, public (?) sex, p in v, vaginal penetration, some more slut-shaming, dom!nanami, edging, unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddos!), creampie, degradation(?), college au— gender neutral afab reader, considered to be black + thick

word count: 1.7k

note: i haven’t written this much smut in so long omg. kinda a part two to this post but it’s not absolutely necessary that you read both. lmk what you think tho and ty for reading:)

PROOFREAD BUT LIKE DISTRACTEDLY

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

“WHY AM I HERE?” nanami droned.

his voice carried notes of exhaustion and abhorrence, the two having developed as soon as he left the comfort of your apartment. after having been kicked out of the dorms due to a noise complaint, much to his embarrassment, you quickly suggested he move in with you. skeptical but with no other choice, he agreed.

it seemed you enjoyed going out far frequently than he expected, dressed in something short and revealing nearly every night. and before he could say something, you were rushing out muttering something about ‘the girls waiting for you.’

he supposed that was the main reason why he was sitting on a couch in a crowded house with you on his lap. at some point he got curious. what could possibly be better than staying in and enjoying one another’s company?

now, nanami was not an insecure person by any means. sure he had his bouts of self-consciousness, as everyone did, but never in his life had it gone past that point. but seeing the way several party goers looked at you quickly put him off ease. they leered at you and attempted to pick up conversation despite noticing your place on nanami’s lap. it was quite annoying, really. and the fact that you did nothing about it made it worse.

“you said you wanted to go out,” you argued. “besides, i’m having fun.”

“yes, i’m sure all the attention you’re getting is exciting.” though he didn’t mean to, nanami’s tone exposed his irritation.

meeting his gaze, you scrunched up your face. “what is that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,” he scoffed before moving you off his lap. “m’gonna use the bathroom.”

before you could argue, kento was already pushing past the several sweaty bodies pressed up against one another. amidst all the couples making out in the hallways and on the staircase, he was lucky enough to find the bathroom empty. with a huff, he plopped down on the toilet cover and put his head in his hands.

the peace he thought he had was cut short by a soft rapping on the bathroom door. despite opting to ignore it, it started up again, this time harsher. as he got up the knocking persisted, adding to his displeasure.

when he swung the door open he didn’t expect to be pushed back into the bathroom. he found you standing before him after locking the door, a stern look on your face.

“what is your problem?” he snarled, probably more vexed by the way the entire evening was going and not with you.

“my problem?” you parrot. “you’re the one throwing a fit for no reason. if you didn’t want to come, you could’ve stayed home.”

kento glowered down at you in a show of ire as he considered what your nights out without him were like. “what, did i keep more guys from approaching you? i bet they would’ve came in flocks if i wasn’t here.”

“is that what this is about?” you inquired, bewilderment evident from both your tone and the expression on your face. “you’re jealous, is that it?”

with a scoff, kento proceeded to roll his eyes and cross his arms over his chest. nanami kento did not get jealous; he was far above such a disgusting feeling.

“please. as if these little boys could do anything for you.”

something glimmered in your eye, something that should’ve been a telltale sign that you were up to no good. that suspicion was proved when you shifted your focus to your freshly manicured nails.

“that’s not what they think.”

jaw clenched and blinded by anger, nanami’s hand shot up to your neck. in a flash you were pressed against the door, staring up his stone like face. before you could raise any questions or concerns, he quickly rid you of your panties and bent you over the sink.

“talk too damn much,” he grumbled. just as you opened your mouth to argue, he shoved your balled up undergarment into your mouth. “need me to shut you up, is that it?”

a loud slap echoed between the walls of the bathroom when his palm met your round bottom. at the sight of your glistening lips nanami hummed in what you could only assume was satisfaction.

“bet you get off to people coming up to you,” another slap resounded from under his hand. “if you’re an attention whore you should’ve said so.”

upon noticing you clenching your teeth, kento frowned and slid his hand down to your warm cunt. a thick finger traced a line from your clit to your entrance, finally eliciting a fraction of the noise he was expecting.

“you’re gonna stay quiet for me, aren’t you?” he questioned, lips quirking upwards with a roguish grin.

you nod frantically as his finger brushes against where you need it most. the coils forming in your lower abdomen are getting worse, encouraging you to push your hips back in an attempt to feel something. anything.

but nanami tuts and steps back, removing his hands from your body all together. when you whine he simply looks at you through the mirror, an uninterested expression on his face.

“if you move again i won’t touch you at all, do you understand?”

with tears forming on your mink lashes, you nod and meet his gaze in the mirror. nanami hums in approval, takes a step forward, and sends another smack against your ass. you clench around nothing and he relishes at the sight.

“i should walk out right now…leave you here without giving you what you want.”

a tearless sob escapes your throat and a ghost of a smile flashes across his features. “don’t worry, darling. i won’t do that to you. that would be far too cruel wouldn’t it?”

before you can think of answering, his middle finger sinks into you. you’re warm and tight and quickly dripping onto the rest of his hand. so he adds another finger and another in order to stretch you out.

calloused pads of his fingers rub and stroke, easily finding that spot that makes you putty in his hands. your legs begin to shake soon after, a telltale sign that you’re close to release. it builds up in the base of your spine and makes your whole body buzz. and just when you can practically taste rapture, kento removes his fingers for a second time.

you feel hollow—empty, and it was apparent from the way you slumped against the sink. your worry however, was for naught. you don’t notice nanami shedding his pants and boxers or positioning his fat tip behind you. as you gathered the words to complain, you felt him begin to push into you.

another mewl finds it’s way past the fabric in your mouth and into his ears. slowly, he pushed the rest of his shaft into you until his pelvis was pressed against your bottom. letting out a deep, guttural sound nanami wastes no time pulling out before slamming back in again. leaving you no chance to recover, he forces your gummy walls to part for him.

despite his initial request, you can’t hold back the saccharine sounds he’s drawing out from you. and for once, kento doesn’t mind. should anyone walk past the bathroom, they’ll hear you, moaning in ecstasy from some dick. perhaps all the attention you receive was due in part to the fact that kento never really lay claim on you.

with that very task in mind, he wraps an arm around your collarbone to grab your neck. the sight of yourself in the mirror, drool dripping from the undergarment in your mouth and tears streaming down your face, drives you over the edge. at the familiar squeeze of your warmth, nanami groans once more and thrusts harder into you. with his free hand he lifts his shirt and puts the hem in between his teeth as to not obscure the sight of your bodies attached.

“you gonna cum?” he growls, pulling your face back to look at him.

with knitted eyebrows you nod and absently hold onto the strong hand around your throat. for a moment all nanami can do is stare down at you while he rocks his hips into your backside. neither of you know what came over him when he pulled the panties out of your mouth to place a sloppy kiss on your lips. your moans, increasing in volume, made it impossible to keep up with the kiss. a clash of teeth and tongue had saliva dribbling down both your chins.

“f-fuck,” you managed to bite out. “s’too much ken…”

though you would’ve liked him to slow down, he keeps his harsh pace until your eyes are rolling back and your body goes limp. after the several assaults on your cunt, it comes as no surprise when your orgasm comes with a shuddering body and a gush of your juices on his member.

his lips quirk upwards just enough for you to recall later on when he finds amusement in your pleas for him to slow down.

“this is what you wanted, isn’t it? doing so good,” he husks. “my pretty little slut—you’re gonna take it, right?”

it’s you who pulls him in for a kiss this time, murmuring agreements and confirmation into his mouth. nanami can feel his own high rushing at him as you clamp around him for the third time. his movements become hasty and rapid. just as you cry out from yet another wave of pleasure, a strangled moan comes from kento and you feel his warm seed fill you to the brim. after a slow pump or two, he pulls out of you and watches his kids slowly leak from your entrance. with two fingers, he gathers the mess on your brown lips and grabs your face once more.

without hesitation you open your mouth and allow him to wipe his fingers on your tongue. energy spent, the next kiss you meet for is languid and slow. his tongue dances around your’s and nanami tastes himself before exploring the rest of your mouth.

“what did you need to bring me out for?” he hums, looking down at you with a flushed face. “we could have done this at home.”

you huff and let your body rest on the sink only to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your braids sat untouched on your head, but the rest of you was in disarray. your dress was wrinkled and out of place, your makeup was smudged, and you could barely hold yourself up.

“now remind me what we were arguing about.”

2023 ©️ all rights reserved by saintblk (me) | do not copy, repost, promote, or translate any of my works without my permission

[artist-issues]

I have loved reading your posts on various fiction from Christian perspective. I am wondering your opinion on when fantasy/"magic" fiction becomes too much? I used to encounter a lot of people talking about how basically -anything- fantasy was evil. I have struggled with scrupulosity OCD for many years now so I tend to think things towards a legalistic lens. I'd like to be able to enjoy fantasy again, while carefully discerning, so I'd love to hear what you think are the merits/limits of fantasy

Hi! First off, Jesus said: "These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world." When you're wrestling with scrupulousity, sometimes it helps to see or hear out loud the reminder that life in Christ is one that's supposed to give you peace, not constant worry about doing everything right--even if you've heard that before and you already know it, sometimes it can help to hear it over again from outside your own head. So there it is! 🤝

Next: thank you for asking me! I'm no professional. But someone did ask me this question once before. I am having a hard time finding it on my blog right now, otherwise I'd link to it, but I'll try to summarize at the end of this post!

EDIT: You asked me to talk about the merits and limits of fantasy and I got carried away explaining why fantasy fiction is not outright evil according to the Bible. I moved that to the end of the post 😅 here's what I think the merits are:

All of Reality, our world, our timeline, was invented by God. That makes Him the storyteller, us His characters, and reality His narrative. Just like any storyteller, He made up a system of rules for His world: rules like, "humans sink in water," and "humans can't be cured of sickness by touching other humans," and "the weather doesn't change just because humans tell it to." Then God, the storyteller, broke His own world-building rules. On purpose. He wrote Himself (Jesus) into the story as a human who COULD walk on water and COULD heal other humans with a touch and COULD tell the weather what to do, and it obeyed.

In fantasy stories, when a character can break the established rules of the created world, we call that "magic." We call it "magic" when the storyteller brings in a supernatural element to show that this character is special, powerful, capable, set apart from all the others.

So that's what I think the merits are. Fantasy stories have a special kind of closeness to The Storyteller Who Invented Stories, because of that very element of "make the rules then bring in rule-breaking specialness" that He uses.

That's where you get Gandalf, or even the Fairy Godmother, or of course Aslan and the Deep Magic.

The limitations to the genre, I would say, is that fantasy stories are very tempting for storytellers' egos. Because of Tolkien, there's this generation of storytellers who think that inventing a fantasy world with rules and races and magical systems and cultures and, to sum it all up, a whole universe of their own design, is the POINT.

They think the themes and the message of their story comes second to how thorough and clever they can be with their made-up magical systems, or fantasy-race-relations, or made-up languages.

Basically, in no other genre have I observed storytellers getting so excited to play god-of-their-own-clever-world than in fantasy. Then they forget that the important part of a story is the message, not the brain that's capable of inventing worlds and languages and cool-sounding names and ancestries. What they have to say basically gets lost in how flashy and cool they can be while saying it.

But that's another soap box for another time. Those are basically the merits and limitations, I think, broad-strokes.

On to the Biblical worldview for magic in stories below!

"Magic" is mentioned in the Bible. It's sorcery. Specifically, the Bible is telling Christians to stay away from "real" magic...which is basically just "trying to connect with spiritual forces to accomplish anything supernatural." We were created to have relationship with one Spirit: God. Anything outside of that is like a fish trying to breathe oxygen: it hurts us. So the Bible says, "no real magic."

But.

"Fantasy fiction magic" is not "a real live human trying to connect with real demonic forces and accomplish something supernatural." Instead, "fantasy fiction magic" is just "a real live human making up a story. Playing pretend."

The Bible has no commands, no rules, against that. Jesus told stories. His servants tell stories. We're made to tell stories.

And the Bible has no commands against telling a story that includes magic in it.

Think of it this way: God said "do not murder" right? But then in Matthew 18 Jesus tells a parable where one man tries to choke another man. There's attempted murder in the story Jesus is telling: but just because God disapproves of the act of murder, does not mean He disapproves of telling a story that features murder.

Sin being in a story isn't a bad thing. It's realistic, because sin exists. What really matters is whether or not the story treats the sin like sin, and not like an admirable thing. Because the point of all stories is to tell the truth in a compelling way. If the story treats something sinful like it's not sinful, that wouldn't be truthful. But if the story treats sin like it's definitely bad, then it's doing what God invented stories to do: tell the truth.

Now here's where you might say, "yeah, but most fantasy stories treat magic like it's a good thing."

Right. But remember: most fantasy stories don't have what the Bible calls "magic" in them at all.

When the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella says "bibbidi bobbidi boo," she's not calling upon demons to give her supernatural power (which is what the Bible is talking about when it condemns magic.) She's using a pretend superpower that the storyteller made up, on the spot, for the story. Her "magic" is not what the Bible calls "magic," so it doesn't even matter if it's portrayed as "good" or "bad" morally.

Fantasy fiction is fine. There is no reason, Biblically, for Christians not to read fantasy fiction if their only reason for it is "well there's magic in it."

There's nothing wrong with telling a story that has a supernatural element in it. It's only a story. As long as it's not real humans doing creation-worshipping or demon-contacting practices, in real life it's okay to write and it's okay to read.

Let me know if that makes sense!