#you've pulled me through some really shitty times in my life and I'm not sure if you know that up until now

[sansxfuckyou]

hey i just wanted to say how much I value our friendship. you're genuinely such an important person to me i am so happy seeing you in my notes screaming with me i always get so happy and you've inspired so much to draw (including but not limited to snf and twittblr) and write too when it was a quick hobby I picked up two years ago or so in a frenzy and slowly died out until you reignited it again with your fucking banger fics and i genuinely cannot be more grateful

I dont usually give myself time to truly put what I feel into words, simply going for keysmashes or quick swears or quoting memes and hoping you understand what I wanted to express and I think it was about time I made a personalised message truly using my words to get it across. you are so fucking cool you are awesome you are amazing you are talented you put so much effort into your words be it about a cozy morning organs falling apart or sucking dick. you put so much love into everything you do and it is so amazing to see. i love you man. i wish you everything good in the world ever. you dont have to answer me back with long paragraphs I think I already understand just how important I am to you and I wanted to repay you the favor by laying across the table my heart bare open for you to see

keep on loving keep on living keep on persisting despite despite despite

I am so glad I sent you that Melon Musk image, truly

-Tena

[thriftedtchotchkes]

love like you

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

summary: mike helps you through a rough patch by reminding you of the many, many reasons he loves you

warnings: established relationship, angst, comfort, mentions of depression, anxiety & panic attacks, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts

word count: 2.1k

"Why do you love me?"

You ask the question so quietly, Mike almost misses it over the movie playing in the background. At first, he's not sure how to respond—or at the very least, where to begin.

You've never asked him that before, and he'd never given it much thought if he's being totally honest. He assumed you hadn't, either. It's just something he feels.

It's something he's always felt, gradually building since the day you led his sister back to him after she'd wandered off in the supermarket. He took one look at you, your kind eyes and patient smile, and asked you on a date without a second thought. That's what it's like to love you—instinctual.

He glances away from the TV and looks down at you curiously. Your head is nestled on his lap, eyes already locked on his and filled with apprehension he can't even begin to understand. There are a thousand and one reasons to love you; don't you realize that? He'd tell you every one if you asked.

He loves you because you're always there, through the late-night shifts and nightmares, helping him parent a child you shouldn't have to be responsible for at such a young age. You confiscate his controller every time he tries to smash it in a fit of rage, beating whatever boss he'd been fighting for hours like a champ. He thinks you're so fucking cool.

And you understand him like no one else ever has, so attentive and always willing to try. You kiss away his fears, strip him bare, unmask him. Allow him to seek shelter inside you, ride him to a mind-numbing release when his darkest thoughts threaten to consume him.

You hold him when he wants to give up, when the weight of the world is too much and persevering is too hard. The familiar, soothing tone of your voice reminds him to breathe, to tune out the little things and remember that there's still good to be found in life.

It's everything you do and everything you are. That's why he loves you.

But before he can say anything at all, your face screws up and your bottom lip begins to tremble. His chest immediately tightens.

"Woah, hey. It's okay," he murmurs, keeping you grounded in the present despite his rising panic. "You're okay."

You're prone to spiraling, but after years together, he knows the best way to mitigate it is to stay calm. Regardless of the raging storm in your head, you're safe with him, warm and dry at home on your couch.

He caresses your cheek, then trails up to scrub at the crinkle in your forehead. "What's going on up there?"

"Nothing. It's—really, it's nothing. I'm sorry, I don't know why I asked you that," you shake your head, averting your gaze elsewhere. But after a moment, your eyes snap back to his, and there's so much pain there, he can almost feel it.

"No, it's...it's everything. My brain won't shut up, and it's mean and loud, and I just—," you pause, clenching your jaw in frustration. "I just don't get it. Of everyone you could've been with, why me? I can't understand why you chose me."

The question feels like a slap in the face. Like he had so many choices and only picked you based on some predetermined criteria of what someone should want in a partner. He didn't just pull your name out of a bowl, either. You chose each other.

He wracks his brain to figure out what he could've said or done to make you believe otherwise, but then remembers this isn't about him. He tries again to explain all of the reasons he wanted to before, to tell you that the unrelenting thoughts ping-ponging in your head are wrong, but you continue on, unraveling before his eyes.

"I'm a shitty person. I'm selfish and useless, and all I do is make everyone around me unhappy. There's always a crisis, I'm always sad. And I always make everything about me," you tell him, getting angrier by the second. "Ugly, worthless, selfish, selfish. I’m a fucking burden. You know, I—I just keep waiting for you to figure it out and leave. To get sick of this...of me."

He listens helplessly as you tear yourself apart, the ache in his chest intensifying the worse your verbal barrage becomes. He knows he can't just reassure away your insecurities or magically heal your trauma, no matter how badly he wants to. But he also can't let this go on any longer.

"Stop," he says softly, cutting you off. Hearing the full extent of your criticism is agonizing, and if it's hurting him this much, he hates to think what you must be feeling. "None of that is true. I think...I hope, deep down, you know that."

The broken look you give him tells him you don't, or maybe that you can't, at least not right now. You open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head and hauls you up into his arms. He holds you close as you start to tremble, guiding you to rest your cheek on his shoulder.

"There's nothing shitty about you, alright? You're the least selfish person I've ever met. Kinda wish you were so you'd stop prioritizing us over yourself all the time," he murmurs into your hair. "And you're fucking gorgeous. I don't want to hear you say any of that ever again."

He tilts his head to meet your eyes. "Got it?"

You shake your head, turning to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He sighs. He just can't fathom how you could possibly look at yourself and not see what he and Abby do. But then again, he might understand more than he'd like to admit.

Everything you've told him tonight feels jarringly familiar. The self-hatred, the unending criticism—he wallows in those thoughts all the time and knows better than anyone that they'll eat you alive if you bottle them up for too long.

He hates that you have to suffer through this just because brain chemistry is indiscriminately cruel. It's unfair. He, at the very least, deserves it.

Except, that's not actually true, is it? And if your roles were reversed, you'd remind him as many times as it takes for him to believe it. You'd tell him that he's perfect exactly the way he is. That he's a good parent, brother, and partner, and regardless of all of the shit life has thrown his way, he's still a good person that isn't defined by his lowest moments.

So, he'll do the same for you.

He shifts you on his lap so you're face-to-face, your legs bracketing his thighs, and cups your cheeks to keep your attention on him. He's not letting you hide anymore. He needs you to hear what he has to say and trust that he'd never lie to you.

"You're not worthless or useless or anything else your brain is telling you right now. Okay? You're perfect," he says quietly, stroking your cheek. "I've always thought you were perfect, from the moment I met you."

Doubt clouds your expression. "I don't believe you."

"Why would I lie to you?"

"B-because that's what you're supposed to say when you're trying to make someone feel better," you reply shakily.

Ouch. He hadn’t expected that answer. It stings that you'd think so little of him, especially after all this time. He feels like he’s grasping at straws now, but everything he wants to say is just a variation of how highly he sees you. It’s all equally true, but if you can’t accept that, then what else can he do?

"Then, tell me what you need to hear right now. Tell me how to help you through this, because I love you so fucking much, and I will do anything," he pleads, his frustration bleeding through despite how hard he tries to suppress it.

It’s starting to affect you. You’re shaking like a leaf, and he can tell you want to run away, but instead of letting you go, he wraps his arms around you as carefully as he can to keep you from leaving. He doesn't want to force you to face this. He just needs you to stop hurting yourself. Your face crumples, and he feels his own do the same.

"I don't know. Probably nothing," you tell him, voice cracking. "Look, we don't have to talk about it anymore. I'm sorry for bringing it up in the first place. Can we just go back to watching the movie? I’ll rewind it—“

But Mike doesn't want to let this go. Even if he should, even though you're asking—he's determined to make sure you go to bed tonight knowing how loved you are. His next words come out harsher than he wants them to, but he’s getting desperate. He’s only human.

"Fine. You want the truth? Being with you is hard. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done, and sometimes, it hurts like hell," he starts. Your expression morphs from sad to devastated, and he feels terrible for upsetting you, but he has to say this for both of your sakes.

"But that's what makes it worth it. I've never felt this way about anyone, probably never will again. Not because it's easy; because it's you. Sure, no one's perfect, but you're about as close as it gets. You're it for me.”

He truly believes that. Maybe you do, too. The tension in your body is beginning to bleed away, and you slowly sag against him, tucking yourself into his chest. He catches a glimpse of your face as you melt into him, and for the first time tonight, you look hopeful. Nuzzling into your hair, he continues.

"I can't imagine a life without you anymore. It's like you're part of me now, maybe even the best parts, and I fill in the gaps in between. We just…figured it out at some point. Together.” He’s starting to ramble, but he’s too invested to stop. Judging by the fact that you haven’t interrupted him or tried to intervene, it doesn’t seem like you want him to, either.

“Even the small shit other couples fight about. Like the dishes—you hate doing those because digging the silverware out of the sink grosses you out, so I do it. And you fold the laundry because I always burn myself taking the clothes out of the dryer. We talk shit out. We try."

He squeezes you a little tighter. “Maybe those seem like shitty reasons to love someone, but they’re real. Just as real as what I told you before," he says softly, pausing to kiss the top of your head. "You're beautiful. You're kind and passionate, and I’m just the lucky guy that gets to be with you. I’ll be here as long as you want me.”

When he finally finishes, he’s all but gasping for air. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and he’s breathing so heavily, he feels like he just ran a marathon. But it’s worth it to see the look on your face as you peer up at him, cautious but peaceful.

“How could I not want you?” you whisper, splaying your hand across his chest, just below his collarbone. You're feeling his heartbeat.

"I've been asking you that all damn night," he chuckles. Cradling your head in his palm, he swipes away a few stray tears that fall with the next flutter of your lashes. "So, did I answer your question or should I keep going? Because seriously, I can keep going—"

You snort, effectively cutting him off, then give him a wry smile. The relief he feels is palpable.

“You know, I really don’t deserve you," you murmur as you lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw. When your lips linger, he ducks down to press his against yours, kissing you deeply and pouring in everything left unsaid.

"Sure, you do," he says kindly, but with finality. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, you're both starting to look as tired as you feel. But more than that, he's grateful; to have you in his life and to be able to comfort you when you need it most. You taught him that. "And I think we both deserve some sleepytime tea and a really soft blanket...if Abby didn't already steal it off our bed."

Your face lights up, and it's as if he solved all of the world's problems with that one simple offering. It's the same look you give him when he tells you he loves you. The corners of your eyes crinkle as you say it back.

"I love you, too."

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

a/n: this was a homework assignment from my therapist 💀 oops

[ddollfface]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠…

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘅 𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗕𝗶𝗺𝗯𝗼

"Sorry, I texted you when I was drunk...I just think about you all the time :(("

"She's my best friend, and, yeah, I might be in love with her, what about it?"

Trigger Warnings; talking about breaking into your house (it'll make sense later lol), hinting at yandere behaviors, fluff, somewhat gaslighting, reader is referred to as a girl, lesbians ig idk (is that a warning??) If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Just a small scenario about some new ocs! And they come as a pair btw! If you have any other ideas abt them, then request something! Or anything, I'm running out of ideas LOL-! Hope you have a good day/night <333

God, this is horrible...

It's always like this when it comes to them, it's like their water and oil, fire and ice, the moon and sun. They're constantly bickering and fighting, always pulling each others' hair, and there's never a moment where they're not insulting the other. For some odd, reason, which you don't know, they just hate each other.

No matter how many times you've tried getting them to settle this drawn-out dispute, they never solve it. If anything, it makes it worse. It causes them to just argue more and turn to you as the judge, making you choose between the two.

Now, you're stuck in this shitty situation, having to choose between two of your friends. Lovesick!Friend has always been there for you, sticking by your sick through thick and thin, comforting you when you got dumped, and helping you study when you were struggling in math. Lovesick!Friend is a little awkward, but she means well. She can't help if she's a little anti-social, if anything, it's endearing to you.

While, on the other hand, Lovesick!Bimbo has been nothing but a sweetheart, always introducing you to new people, though you suspect they're her ex-hookups. She's always helping you with your make-up, picking outfits, and being a funny companion. Lovesick!Bimbo, though she's an airhead, has a heart of gold and she'll never pass an opportunity to comfort you. She's always hugging your arm, kissing you on the cheek, and providing that feminine comfort.

But now they're putting you in this situation, having to choose between the two. That's the hard thing, you can't. You really can't imagine your life without either one of them. They're both great friends to you and it'd be pretty depressing if you had a fallout with one of them. And the situation hasn't lightened up; it's gotten worse. It's starting to become too big of a problem, one that you can't brush under the rug.

It's escalated to where they're "breaking" into your apartment, and you use that term loosely. As the two aren't even sneaky about it! They both just waltz into your home like they own the place! And all you get in return is a, calm down, I just want to spend more time with you, y'know? I mean, with finals week and all... or a, Come on, babesss!! We're, like, so close! There's no point in trying to get away from me!!

Both trying to spend more time with you. Though, when you think about it, you're not too sure how they got your keys 'cause you sure as hell didn't give it to them...

But that's beside the point, it's getting really irritating for you. You'll be coming home from a tiring day of work, only for you to find LoveSick!Bimbo asleep on your bed or rummaging through your clothes, which you're not too sure on what she's looking for. Or you'll find LoveSick!Friend cooking dinner in your kitchen. Once you even walked into the two having a full-on fistfight in your living room!!

And these little incidents lead to moments like this: where you're pressed between the two, stuck in a drawn-out cuddle session.

...

LoveSick!Bimbo had just stopped by, wanting to drop off some cupcakes for your mama, who was stuck in the hospital after surgery. Such a sweet girl she is, doing such a kind thing for you, though her excitement was cut short after seeing you and LoveSick!Friend lying on the couch. The two of you were far too close for her liking. Baby!!! What are you doing, cuddling without meee! Why are you abandoning me like thiss-!

LoveSick!Bimbo then threw a hissy fit. She stomped her sparkly heels and pursed her pretty lips, you could even see tears swell in her eyes. She set the cupcakes on the counter and ran over to the two of you. She pushed past LoveSick!Friend and squeezed herself between the two of you. She wrapped her arms around your waist, tucking her face into your neck, and holding you against her chest like her life depended on it. Of course, LoveSick!Friend wasn't having it. She tried pulling the girl off of you but to no avail. God dammit, you prick, get off of her!! You're gonna kill her!

LoveSick!Bimbo just held on tighter. She pressed herself against you, not wanting to let go. Not even noticing how her tits were right in your face, causing your mind to go fuzzy and face to flush. She even made a smug comment about how you shouldn't be afraid, babes, you can touch 'em if ya' want ;)

LoveSick!Friend scoffed, pushing against LoveSick!Bimbo's face, trying to push her off the two of you. She tried situating herself so that she was closer to you than LoveSick!Bimbo, but the other was stubborn, not wanting to let you up. The two proceeded to have a mini tug-of-war, with you being the prize. The girls shifted positions and moved you around, not seeming to care if they were groping you too much, until they came to an agreed position.

You were stuck between the two girls, lying on LoveSick!Friend, with LoveSick!Bimo pressed against your chest. LoveSick!Friend had her hands playing with your hair, giving you a free massage, while LoveSick!Bimbo was practically groping your boobs. Her face snug in your cleavage, your arms wrapped around your hips, foundling with your love handles. All the while, LoveSick!Friend pressed her face in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You could feel her bouncy curls tickle your skin, causing you to squirm.

All this was too much, you were feeling too much in too little time. It was all overwhelming, having two, very attractive, girls cuddle up to you. And it feels wrong, feeling this way, seeing as they're your friends. But one can't control their heart...right?

It felt awkward; you really didn't know what to do, so you just wrapped your arms around LoveSick!Bimbo's shoulders, bringing her body closer to yours. This only caused LoveSick!Bimbo to squeal, tightening her grip on you and whispering small praises about how you're so frickin' cute! I could just eat ya' up! Love ya' and 'ur sweet curves! EEK-!

Only for LoveSick!Friend to grumble and tell LoveSick!Bimbo to shut it with the squealing, you're hurting her ears, you dimwit.

You could only chuckle at the scene. The constant bickering was growing on you, maybe this isn't too bad...

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 11 -> CH 12

"Are you knocking over a pharmacy?”

“Medication alternatives.”

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @thatsthewrongwallcraig @icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver @ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999

Jack made sure to get up at a decent hour so he could shower and give Ace an impromptu bath. Nothing special, just a quick rinse and fluff. Jack wouldn't exactly say he was trying to earn some brownie points but he hoped that if he returned Ace in top condition, maybe Y/n would bring him by more often to stay.

Jack was sitting on a lawn chair in the backyard tossing the ball to Ace when Y/n came around the corner, sunglasses pushed up to hold her hair back.

"Well look at you two, looking especially fluffy." Y/n handed Jack his coffee and took the seat across from him.

"I gave him a quick rinse this morning." Jack nodded as Ace jumped up on the seat giving Y/n kisses.

"Ah yes, thank you for washing the stench of your lust from my dog. I'm sure my mom would appreciate that." Y/n tossed him the burrito and he kissed the aluminum it was wrapped in.

"You are my new favorite neighbor. Have I told you that?" Jack complimented.

"Considering you don't talk to literally any other neighbors, I will accept that begrudgingly." Y/n reached in the bag and pulled out her own breakfast burrito so they both could eat.

"Oh I also brought you this." Y/n reached into her bag and pulled out a slip of paper, handing it over. Jack eyeballed it unsure of what he was reading.

"Are you knocking over a pharmacy?" Jack joked and she shook her head with a mouth full of food.

"Medication alternatives. I don't know what your exact ailments are but if they're psychological, these can absolutely help with negative side effects." Jack examined the list and noticed she had put little notes next to certain medications.

"Wow this is...extensive. You must think I'm really fucked up." Jack tried to play it off as a joke but she shrugged.

"The whole world is mentally ill, Jack. The only truly sane people are the ones smart enough to realize they need the help. There's nothing wrong with that." She took another bite of her burrito.

"I've been fucked up since I was a kid so medication has always been a part of my life. As you get older, shit changes and you've got to adjust some things." She roots around in her bag and pulls out a pill bottle.

"I've had manic depression since I was about 15 but by the time I was 18, I had asked my doctor about the longevity of the pills and he acted like a fucking prick about it. Who was I to question his methods as an actual doctor. The bastard took me off the meds cold turkey and I spiraled. It was fucking hell." Y/n had no hesitation explaining her medical history.

"After I changed doctors, I had to start taking medication for an extreme anxiety disorder that was caused by the bullshit he put my body through, which in turn completely shut off all sexual desires until I was at least 21." Jack's attention piqued.

"You had zero sexual desires going into your 20's? I feel like I fucked more at 20 than I have in my whole life." Jack commented.

"It just wasn't there. I would watch porn, read it, try different kink scenes and nothing even got me remotely turned on. Plus the anxiety meds dried my pussy out to an insanely uncomfortable level. It was like sandpaper just trying to masturbate." Jack winced.

"Jesus...what did you do?" He was enthralled now. She was so open with him and it felt good to be able to talk to someone who experienced some shitty medication side effects. He felt less alone in the struggle.

"After being sexless for almost 6 years, I finally said enough. Told my doctor it had to change because I was too young to not get off and I was tired of feeling like my cunt was a wasteland for tumbleweeds." Jack almost spit his coffee from a chuckle.

"Slight medication adjustment and you'll be happy to know I broke the sexless streak and have never been wetter." She held up her coffee cup and Jack clinked his cup to hers.

"Well I'm happy that you've regained a wet pussy and all the sex a nurse has the time for." Jack smirked and she tossed a hash brown at him.

"No pressure obviously. I just think it's stupid to put yourself through bullshit for no reason. We have mental illness but they don't have us. Fuck those stupid chemical imbalanced bullshit. Take back your life, man." Y/n continued to encourage and Jack nodded.

"I really appreciate this. Thank you. You didn't have to do all this but I really do feel like I might be able to use it." Jack tucked the paper into his pocket and Y/n nodded feeling accomplished.

"I will not only commend you on the strides of being able to finally jerk off but to be able to multitask while doing so is pretty impressive." Y/n continued to pick at her food and Jack pinned his eyebrows together confused.

"Multitask? It's pretty simple: point and shoot." Jack chuckled.

"No I meant jerking off while smoking. I would probably set my bed a blaze." She teased making crimson creep up Jack's neck.

"You...how did-"

"Smoke rises sweetheart. The window was open and you weren't exactly being a church mouse." Y/n crumpled her trash and threw it into the brown bag. Jack covered his face with his hands and wanted to silently melt into the chair.

"You're welcome by the way for the free show. I was going to buy you a new ashtray but since you said you were able to cum, I feel like I've completed my job on that one." Y/n reached out and tugged on Jack's elbow.

"Don't be embarrassed. Next time don't be such a tease and get naked yourself." Y/n waited until Jack looked at her before smiling.

"Yeah...I'll be sure to do that...if I don't just throw myself out the window first." Jack scoffed as she got to her feet and whistled to Ace.

"Where's the fun in that?" She smirked giving him a wink.

"Enjoy your day, Thurlow." She called over her shoulder as Ace followed closely behind her. Jack watched her hips sway as she walked away, ass bouncing in light washed jeans. It was the little shake she gave that made him shake his head.

She knew he had seen her. She had seen him. She still got naked. He owes his doctor a fruit basket.

[corn-fanfiction]

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (Mark Hoffman x F!Reader) (Pt. 12)

(Pt. 11) (Pt. 13)

Rated: M

Tags/TWs: aftercare/ language/ past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader's life is complicated/ Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a c*p/ Detective Gibson/slight description of bloody boo boos

“You know what I was thinking?”

You and Mark lay in your bed. He's caressing your head and you have a hand resting on his broad chest. Your bodies are slack from sex and you're still coming down from the high.

“What's that?”

“Something Gibson said,” you feel Mark stiffen. “No, not that. But…I think he had a point. A shitty one, but maybe true? He said that I was wasting my life. My talent.”

“Prick doesn't know what he's talking about.”

“I don't know. Maybe not. But still, it got me thinking…what if I could be doing more?”

“What if?”

“You gonna talk in more than one sentence at a time?”

“Fine. Do you remember what you said when we first met?”

“Um…I'm pretty sure I said a lot. Which part?”

“You said that you keep your life small on purpose. That it was control.”

“I said that?”

“You know you did.”

“Hm.” You kiss his bicep. “What about it?”

“Well, what if your desire for control is what's holding you back? That you're scared of letting it go?”

“You're a psych now?”

“Alright, fine.”

He goes to move from the bed but you pull him back playfully. He falls, you hold him to you and run your fingers through his hair.

“I don't know…you know, I have a BFA.”

He smiles up at you. “No shit.”

“Yep. English. Wanted to go into publishing.”

“So why didn't you?”

You shrug. “Ted. Needed me to work so I put everything else on hold.”

“What about now?”

“I don't know. How do I move away from the control without being afraid to fail?”

“Well, you just have to trust that someone will catch you.”

You laugh a little. “No one can guarantee that. We're all alone at one point or another.”

“Not you. Not again.”

“Yes, even me. Things happen, Mark.”

Sensing your shift in mood, Mark sits up and brings you with him.

“Hey, look at me. You're never gonna be alone again, you hear me? Never. I won't let it happen.”

You stare deep into his eyes and can barely see color for the way his pupils are blown. His breathing is heavy. He means it.

You almost feel bad for getting him worked up so you pull him in for a kiss. A hand comes to rest on the side of your neck and you sigh, leaning into his touch.

“I guess I never really thought about what else my life could be. Never thought I'd have time.”

“You do. As long as you're with me, I guarantee it.”

Maybe something about that phrasing should strike you as odd but when he takes you into another kiss you hardly care, just allow yourself to fall into him.

If he wasn't so caught up in you, Mark would be horribly bored.

Nothing at his day job, and his night job is suspended indefinitely until he can shake the precinct from you.

It's a standard day of Mark clocking in, going to his office, paperwork, patrol, stopping by some crime scenes.

It's a standard day, until he gets a phonecall.

“Hoffman.”

“Mark!”

Mark creases his brow in curious thought. “Gibson?”

“Hey, we’re down at the abandoned museum on the Bailey Waterfront. We need you down here now.”

The corner of Mark’s mouth quirks up. “Hang on, let me get my recorder. Say that again.”

“Dammit, Mark. I’m being serious. It’s an active Jigsaw trap. I’m not stupid enough to think you won’t be helpful here.”

Fuck! Mark curses to himself. Who the fuck is this guy?

“Alright, I’m on my way.”

You get the call in the middle of work and you have Gerri speed you from the restaurant to the hospital. They don't mind to do it, of course, especially considering the fact that you can't stop shaking. It's bad enough that Mark's a cop; it's even worse that he's attached to the Jigsaw case, even if unofficially at this point.

You have to press your forehead to the cool glass of the window simply to focus on that sensation, rather than the nausea emanating through your bones. You've never been a patient person. Today it's worse.

The receptionist directs you and Gerri back to the ICU where you're turned around by five different attendings until you finally find the area occupied by Mark and Gibson. Mark's jacket and button up are off and he's in the process of getting stitches in his leg.

“Jesus,” you gasp, actually getting a good look at the drying blood and the new blood that oozes from the wound. He has other garden variety scrapes and bruises, but the worst of it seems to be the leg.

But he smiles when he sees you.

“Hey, baby.”

You sigh in partial relief and hug him the way you can from his spot sitting on the bed. He presses his head to your chest and you circle his scalp with your fingernails.

“What happened?” You ask as the panic begins to settle some more. He's calm, so you're growing calmer.

Mark hesitates and you clock it. You look over at Gibson.

“What the hell happened?” You repeat, this time with an obvious accusatory tone laced into your words now that they're directed at Gibson.

“It was another trap, I called Mark in.”

Fury shoots up your spine. “So you kick him off the case just to bring him back in and get him sent to the fucking hospital???”

You make a move towards Gibson but Mark lands a gentle hand on your bicep.

“Hey, he saved me.”

You look between them, your anger paused.

“What?”

“Got caught in the crossfire of a trap. Some buckshot. Gibson pushed me out of the way before I got fifty holes in me-”

You can't listen to it anymore without visualizing it perfectly and you hold him again. Maybe he senses the severity of your concern because he holds you back with his free hand.

“Hey, hey I'm alright.”

But all you can see are those photos of Ted that Gibson showed you with his body bloated and his limbs removed. Mark getting even a whiff of a bullet has tears pooling at your eyes. Any other day you'd kick yourself for being so weak, so vulnerable in front of strangers and, worse, Gibson.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper into Mark's hair. “I can't. I can't lose-”

“Hey, baby, sit down.”

You hear the scrape of a chair behind you and you sit.

“Thanks, Gerr,” Mark says. You reach behind you to hold their hand.

“You don't have to stay.”

“You sure? I don't mind.”

“I know and I appreciate that. I'll be fine.”

“Alright.” Gerri gives your hand a final squeeze and smiles at Mark before leaving. Over Mark's shoulder, you can't help but notice Gibson watching the interaction. You also finally notice that he's alone. And even though you hate him, he still saved Mark, and you feel a stab of pity in your heart.

“Gibson? You okay to get home?”

His eyes widen in surprise, not only that you'd talk to him, but that your words are suddenly considerate.

“Of course. They didn't take my legs,” he responds with sarcasm. You roll your eyes.

“You're right, I'll never ask about your well-being again.”

“Oh, so nothing will change.”

You decide that you're done with the interaction so you lean your cheek against Mark's shoulder and wrap your hands around his large one, content to stay as close to him as possible.

You take Mark home. You've never been to his apartment but the doctors said that he shouldn't drive on his hurt leg. You can't help but sneak glances over at him. He's sweating, still coming down from the pain. His face reflects yours only hours ago. His eyes are closed, his forehead resting against the cool glass. You're reminded of the instincts that overtook you during your movie night. But what you want now, to rest your hand on his neck then up through his hair. To kiss his eyelids as he falls asleep. He feels safe around you. Your heart swells at the thought.

His house is really nice, all rich and dark wood. You carry him into the living room and sit him on a leather sofa. He lifts his arm and flicks on a Tiffany lamp.

You press the back of your hand to his forehead.

“When did they give you a fever reducer?”

“It's been a minute,” he grunts, turns his head.

“Okay. Bathroom?”

He gestures to the back hallway by the staircase. You quickly tuck a lock of hair behind his ear before disappearing to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and giving it some cold water. You bring it back and lay it across Mark's forehead. He sighs into the sensation, and you're not proud of the way the sound makes you feel.

You like making him feel good. You like taking care of him.

Mark sits up to retrieve some preplaced glass of water from the coffee table and takes a long gulp. You watch as some of the water escapes the corners of his mouth and drips down the muscles of his neck. You swallow.

When he finishes, he gasps. He opens his eyes and finds yours.

“You can't look at me like that right now,” he mutters, lids heavy with sleepiness from the drugs.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper with a small smile, stroking his hair.

“It's not fair,” he's getting sleepier.

“I know, I'm sorry. I'm mean.”

He turns into your arm and kisses the soft skin there. He hums.

“I love you.”

And you're too stunned to acknowledge those words before he's snoring softly in your arms.

You wake up to banging.

You jump, jostling Mark who's still in your embrace. He's not quite awake but the sudden noise has you on high alert. You grip Mark's arm just in case you need to shake him awake. You're almost certain it was a banging on the front door.

Silence. You're frozen, heart pounding in your ears.

The banging comes again and you jump.

“Mark! Mark, open the door.”

Now that's interesting, you think, slightly less afraid at Gibson's voice coming through the door but still on edge, because it's- you check the clock- 3 am.

You decide to wake Mark. He grumbles.

“Mark. Mark, I think Gibson's at the door.”

More banging. Mark is managing to open his eyes. At the very least you need the noise to stop, so you help Mark to a sitting position and go to the door yourself. When you open it, you see Gibson on the other side…with about five other cops behind him. Your stomach drops. He looks about as surprised to see you as you do him and his entourage. But he also looks exhausted, like he hasn't stopped moving since he left the hospital hours ago.

“Where is he?”

Your grip on the lip of the door tightens.

“What's going on?”

“Move.”

“No.”

You can't stop yourself from saying it. You can't believe it, but you also know immediately what this is. It's impossible, and you're not going to let it happen.

“Obstruction of justice. You want to get charged, too?”

Gibson looks over your shoulder and you follow his eyes. Mark stands in the hall, or limps, rather. You want to go to him, of course you do, but you can't move.

“I'm not gonna tell you again,” comes Gibson's voice. You look between the two men, count the police outside one more time just to be certain.

“You can't,” you whisper to Gibson, your voice wavering.

“I ain't got a choice.”

Gibson pushes in past you and your back hits the wall. Mark limps towards you but doesn't make it far before two officers have a hold of him, cuffing his wrists behind his back. He fights, what little he can, and one cracks him under the knee. He cries out in pain.

“Stop it!” You shout and run forward, but not before someone can catch you around the waist. “He's fucking hurt!! He was hurt doing his job! This isn't fair!”

“Mark Hoffman, you're under arrest under suspicion of conspiracy to murder and active murder, specifically for the killing of Theodore Simpson-” your heart cracks at Ted's name. “And many others. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you on a court of law-”

Gibson carries on but you push your way to Mark, managing to touch his face one more time.

“I'm gonna get you out of this, okay? I don't know how but I will-”

Someone has you again and Mark…Mark is silent. Doesn't return any affection or offer any of his own. His eyes stare you down though, like he's trying to communicate something. But before you have even a chance of deciphering what that could be, they're walking him out the door.

You do attempt to follow but Gibson has a firm grip on your arm. On instinct, you swing your free hand around to hit him but he catches that one too, and twists you to where both hands are caught and you wince in pain.

“Don't try to fight me.”

“Fucking let go!”

“I get that this is hard. Don't make it worse for yourself.”

You struggle a bit more and he finally lets you go, but by the time he does, the cruiser with Mark inside is already on the main road. You curse, cry, punch the door and grab your hair.

“Fuck you. This isn't fair.”

“There is hard evidence. I know you don't wanna believe it-”

“You were just at the site with him-!”

“I don't know what happened, but it happened, okay?”

He's got you cornered, but almost in a way that is an attempt at calming you. Like you're a wild animal.

“No. I don't believe you. Or I don't believe that it's real. Someone's setting him up.”

Gibson rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It doesn't make sense! If it was Mark, why would he have stuck around for this long. Are you saying he put himself in that trap a year ago? Does that part make sense?”

“So I don't have it all figured out! But there is reason enough to put him behind bars, at least until we get this thing straight.”

You're all turned around. There are a couple more officers watching your interaction while they should probably be locking the place down-

Oh. Mark's apartment is probably a crime scene now.

“I, uh-”

“Come on. Let's get you home.”

Gibson goes for the door but notices you not following him.

“Don't make this difficult, for the love of god.”

“There's no fucking way I'm getting in a car with you.”

Gibson sighs in exasperation.

“Look. What happened the other day was completely unprofessional and I'm sorry. Shouldn't have happened. But please. Can this night just be over?”

You don't budge.

“Motherfuck- Zimmerman!” Gibson calls over his shoulder. One of the cops comes running. “I'm telling you, in front of her, that I am going to take her home now. If something happens to her, or if for whatever reason she doesn't make it home, you know she was with me. This is me alleviating her fears. Got it?”

The poor cop looks between the two of you before nodding in a slight and confused panic.

“Good. Get back to work.”

Gibson turns back to you as Zimmerman sprints back to his job.

“Alright. Shall we?”

You can't be alone. You hate it. The one person you rely on to keep you comforted in this strange brand of insanity is now locked into it.

You try to get something, anything out of Gibson in the car but he's tight-lipped. Once he drops you off, you lock your front door and sit behind it. Then you make it to your couch, then to the bathtub, filling it with scalding water.

I don’t know. This is the second time you’ve been involved. First time, you’re a witness and get his operation shut down. Second time it’s your ex in a trap. Not to mention…

I’m just saying, who else has been there the first time, and a second time?

If anyone of us would be Jigsaw, it would be Hoffman.

Irony of ironies, you never did like puzzles, and you certainly don't love being the supposed center of one. But this one is looking a little too clear. Like the picture on the box is insultingly simple and yet you insist there are pieces missing. It's a 100 piece puzzle. Just figure out the edges and work your way in.

Yes, coincidences can be bizarre and yes, they can fuck up a life. But when do you stop and take stock, and say “something about this isn't right?”

Is it when the man you love may or may not be a serial killer?

Yes, this is where most people would stop.

You grit your teeth as the water burns you.

Do you maintain some semblance of control by cutting your losses? Because at this point there is a very good chance Mark could go to jail. And with the surmounting evidence, most people would think he deserves it.

And yet you haven't seen any evidence, only heard theories that make sense when you, or they want them to make sense.

If only you could talk to Mark…

But you know they won't let you anywhere near them.

So you need someone else. Someone close to it like he is. Like you are. Someone who's been there.

You drain the tub. You wrap yourself in a robe and sit at your computer.

You've got work to do.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Life After Richmond pt. 1

MASTERLIST

A Jason Sudeikis multi-chapter RPF w/ a reader insert/OFC. No use of y/n l/n.

A meeting with an author leads to the next project after Ted Lasso.

~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

"You should read this, it's fucking life changing." Brett dropped the book into Jason's lap on his way to the writers room. Pre-production for season 3 was well underway and they were making the most of some time writing together. Jason picked up the book and thumbed through it, the front inside cover had been signed by the author: 

'You're a twat. Love Callie' 

"I hope you’re good friends. She's not wrong though, why's it so good?" he questioned.

"It's just... bloody brilliant. Honestly, give it a go. She's going to be writing the new wave of romcoms before we know it. I might try and get her to give some TV writing a go once we’ve finished here."

"Sure, sure, I have all the time in the world to sit and read, Goldstein." Jason rolled his eyes and stuffed the book into his backpack before following Brett into the room. Reading was definitely the kind of recreational activity he didn't have time for at the moment. With shooting planned for right around the corner, downtime was hard to come by. It didn’t take long for the writing to draw him in though and a month or two later, Brett saw the book being launched at his head in the makeup trailer.

"Great book, thanks man. I think I've sent a copy to everyone I know." Jason chuckled. 

"I can get you a copy of your own if you're interested. Signed. Callie texted me, she'll be in London in a few weeks. She’s coming over to visit her mum and sister - want me to set up a meeting?"

"Absolutely yes, if she's OK with that? Get it in my diary, I’ll tell Lisa. We can move stuff around to fit it in so work around whenever works for her." Brett nodded, pulling out his phone. 

"She's having a bit of a shitty time, she's just split with her dickhead boyfriend. They were together for about 5 years I think. He's an absolute weapon, she's well shot of him."

"That sucks. She's from the UK? Maybe being at home will help."

“Doubt it, she left when she was like, 17 to get away from her mum.” Brett said with a laugh. “She’s probably coming to see Beth really but if her mum finds out she’s in the country and doesn’t visit, she’ll go mad.”

“How’d you meet?”

“I’ll let her tell you - she loves to tell that one. Mostly cos it makes me look like a loser.”

“Poor baby Brett.”

“Oh fuck off. I tell you what I’m dreading having you two in the same room. I’m gonna be the punching bag.”

“We love you really, bud. I bet she only calls her true best friends a twat.”

“That’s true actually, she does.”

Callie brought her knees up and rested her mug in the V between her torso and legs, reaching around to type. Her sister had offered her spare room and empty-during-the-day restaurant as a quiet workspace. She’d had more than enough of her mum and so far was loving being back in London and with her sister. She felt like hell after the break up and hadn’t been looking after herself at all. It had caused tension with her mum who’d accused Callie of moping around and had told her to sort herself out. With Beth’s help, she was finally starting to do just that. She had half an eye on the front windows of the large dining space looking out for Brett, when a little tap on the front door shifted her gaze. With a big smile, she rose to unlock the door. 

"Alright, gorgeous? God it’s been a long time." She reached up to hug him. 

"Not bad, how have you been? Stupid question - you look like shit - you've lost weight." He chided, pulling at the baggy hoodie.

"Mate, I'll have you know that this is a vast improvement. My hair is clean, I've bathed, I'm actually wearing clothes - and they're clean ones. I haven't had a glass of wine in... three days, and I considered eating breakfast this morning. That’s enough dragging me in front of your boss though, where's the introduction?" Brett sighed heavily. 

"Fine, Cal, this is Jason. Jason, this is Callie Draper. She didn't always look a mess.” He said pointedly.

"This mess is lightyears from a few weeks ago." Callie gestured to her yoga leggings and oversized hoodie. “I’m practically glowing.” The dark circles under her eyes and drawn complexion clearly said otherwise.

"She's right. You should have seen what I picked up from Birmingham airport. It doesn’t look like it should be, but it’s an upgrade." A voice drifted through the swinging kitchen doors. 

"Well, isn't this lovely and supportive. Thanks, sis." Callie called through the door. She turned to Jason and explained, "I got home from the North American leg of my book tour to find my boyfriend fucking our upstairs neighbour on my kitchen counter. I spent a few weeks surviving on wine and chocolate biscuits so I'm now in recovery mode, my skin hasn't forgiven me yet - being dumped in your 30s is a lot harder than it is in your 20s." She said briefly. 

"I'm so sorry, that's fucking awful. If it’s any consolation, it’s fucking horrible in your 40s." Jason offered kindly. Callie smiled and shrugged, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

"Jeez, I think I’ll stay single then. Thanks. Shall we sit?" she gestured to her table. "I'll make some coffee - as long as Americano is OK? I can't do a Latte on that thing." She pointed at the barista coffee machine and set about making the three drinks. 

"Sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just worried." Brett dropped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. 

"I'm OK. Getting there." She leaned into him before she started to fiddle with the coffee press, twisting it into place. 

"When are you going back to Chicago?"

"End of next week. I'm staying at Sara's at the moment, but I'm thinking of moving anyway."

“Where’s next on the list?” Brett asked curiously.

“Probably New York. I think Brookyn, my agent Laura lives just across the river and her office is in lower Manhattan so it seems like a pretty good spot.”

“Brooklyn is great, I’ve got a place there.”

“Excellent, you can give me take out recs.”

"Happy to. So how'd you two meet?" Jason asked, gesturing between Brett and Callie.

"I was at one of his gigs in San Francisco when he performed to 4 people and a dog. I was the only person who couldn't actually leave cos I was the barmaid. He was terrible!" Jason laughed and nudged Brett's shoulder, thanking Callie for the coffee she placed in front of him. 

"I couldn't understand why I was being heckled by a Brummie!" Brett shook his head. 

"Former Brummie. I'd been in the States for about 15 years by then." Callie countered, sitting back in her original seat. 

"When did you move?" Jason looked across at Callie, trying to connect the timeline.

"I was 17. I didn't want to go to uni, my mum was doing my head in, so I decided to do Camp America for a summer. I fell in love, wanted to stay so we got married when I was 18," Callie paused for effect, Jason's eyebrows somewhere near his hairline and Brett nearly doubled over laughing. "Then I was divorced at 22, and I've spent the last 15 years moving wherever I've wanted and doing any old jobs I can while I write. I just up and move when I’ve had enough. I’ve been in Chicago for the last 6 years though so it’s time for a change"

"Holy shit, maybe you should write that."

"Maybe I should." She laughed. It had been a while since she'd had to give her potted history, and it still made her laugh. 

"What happened with your ex husband? Tell him, Cal." Brett had tears in his eyes waiting for the final kicker in the story.. 

"He's happily remarried, we're still friends and I'm godmother to his and Andrew’s two little girls." She finished with a smirk.

"Are you serious? " Jason looked incredulous. 

"Yep, it was a bit of a wild time. My mum still hasn’t forgiven me, she adored him and she was devastated when she found out he was gay."

"You think? She was dreaming of babies on a ranch or some rubbish like that." Brett added with a laugh. "Anyway, enough of your crazy life. Have you got a book on you for Jason? And can you re-sign mine please: you called me a twat." Callie pulled a new book from her bag.

"I did that? Consider yourself honoured. I’m sure I only refer to my best friends as a twat. Got a pen?" she held out her hand, Jason supplied a red pen. "Ooh red, I like to edit in green. It feels less 'grrrr'." She tapped the pen to her lip, thinking, before lifting the cover so he couldn't see, and scribbled her message. Jason took it gratefully and put it straight in his bag without looking. Then she took Brett's dog-eared book and turned to where she'd last signed it. She sniggered at her previous message, and then signed just underneath it before passing the book back. Brett opened it. 

"Callie!" He held it out for Jason to see the new inscription:

'You're still a twat. Still love you though, Callie xo'

"I hope mine is nicer. Either that or I’m already in best friend territory." Jason teased.

"You won't know if you don't read it."

"The book? Oh I read it, I loved it. I sent it to everyone I know." Callie narrowed her eyes at him. 

"When you say everyone you know... do you happen to know Reese Witherspoon?"

"Not personally, but my friend Alexi does. And I sent her a copy, why?"

"My Insta went mental a few weeks ago, Reese Witherspoon, Drew Barrymore... fucking Jennifer Aniston! All tagging me with pictures of the book. It was insane. I’ve had to add more dates to the book tour when I get back, and I’m going on a couple of daytime TV shows as well."

"Jen? Oh that was me, I'm definitely taking credit for that one. And the others by association." Callie's eyes were like saucers. 

"Holy shit." She whispered. "Holy shit. I told Laura something weird had happened, she didn’t believe me. She said it was just word of mouth."

"You're like... Nora Ephron reincarnated. If your books are anything to go by, then I can't wait to read your screenplays. Post-its, shopping lists. You name it, I'll read it." Callie blushed into her coffee.

11am turned quickly to lunchtime, with Callie's sister bringing out food for them all. Callie told them that she'd spent the previous week at her mums binge watching Ted Lasso. Her time living in America had meant that she'd already been familiar with Jason from his SNL days. Conversation came easily between the three of them and lunch soon fell away to mid afternoon, and by 4pm they were being pushed by Callie’s sister into clearing away water glasses, coffee cups and cake plates to make way for the restaurant opening. Brett excused himself to go to the bathroom and Jason turned to Callie,

"You've probably heard this from everyone already, but it does get easier. You'll... find yourself again." She nodded. 

"Thanks. I'll keep trying, it feels good to be out of the pity party so I just need to keep going. I'm struggling to write though," she shrugged, "I can't get in the right headspace, I just keep getting into my own head and seeing, well, what I walked in on. And then it’s all I see. I've tried poetry, lyrics, plays, prose... I just can't get my words out." Her chin dropped to her chest and she brushed across her eyes quickly to get rid of any potential tears. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offload. It all just feels a bit bleak and dark foresty right now."

"I'm glad you did, your words will come back. Give yourself time." Jason offered a hug, and she rose slightly onto her toes to accept. 

"Thank you. Really, thank you." She muttered against the neckline of his hoodie. 

"My turn." Brett interrupted and Callie reluctantly stepped away from Jason. She ruffled Brett's hair and he planted a kiss on her forehead. "When's your flight?"

"Next week, I'm back at mum's at the weekend for my last few days though. Got to go back for one more round of fucks disguised as a pep talk." Brett nodded, 

"She’s only doing it because she loves you. Don't be a stranger, and please look after yourself." She nodded. 

"Will do, it was really good to see you. A patented Goldstein hug makes everything ok. And so good to meet you Jason. Jesus, what a fucking understatement! Good luck with the show."

"Thank you, it was great to meet you too."

"Thanks babe, it wouldn't be half as good without this genius." Brett nudged Jason gently and the two left Callie to lock the door behind them. 

"Jennifer fucking Aniston." She whispered, shaking her head. "As if!"

A few days later, Callie's phone pinged with a Twitter DM. A screenshot. Of a tweet she'd sent from her sister's sofa,

"Meeting actual pop culture geniuses is all well and good until they turn out to be extremely hot and very, very distracting 🥵"

She frowned at the screenshot at first, before seeing the message it came with. 

'Just checking whether you've met any other pop culture geniuses over the last few days?' Callie's jaw dropped. He did not have Twitter. She was almost certain. Almost. "Shit," she whispered furiously, "shit, shit, shit. Bethhhhhh?" she wailed, calling her sister. 

"What's up?" Beth replied, coming in from her room, DVD in hand. 

"I might have tweeted about meeting Jason the other day. Might have called him hot. He's found the tweet." Beth looked blankly, 

"Did you seriously think he didn't have Twitter?"

"There's an account, but it's not active!" 

"Ohh.. Oh Callie, you plum!"

"Shit! I'm so mortified!"

"Ahh so own it, he's seen it now. You might as well just laugh it off. Speaking off, I knew I had one of his films somewhere - fancy watching it?" She held up 'Sleeping with Other People' Callie was too nose deep in her phone to say no. 

"How's this sound - 'Only Brett and I’m not sure he qualifies as a genius.'?"

"Cute, funny. Breezy, go for it. I'm getting popcorn, shall I open some wine?"

"Fuck yes, please do. I might as well continue to drink myself to death at this rate. I'm a walking mess, Beth."

"You're fine. You're getting over dickhead at your own pace, we got you through the heartbreak and booze diet, I know you’re in the forest but we're getting you out." Callie hummed, hitting send on the message and shoving her phone out of sight to watch the film. By the time it ended, the empty wine bottle sat on the coffee table while Callie and Beth lay head to toe on the sofa. 

"So… The film didn't help." Callie pointed out, gently kicking her sister’s head. 

"You're not wrong," Beth sniggered, "He really is hot!"

"Aghh, shut up. I'm in my heartbreak era. I'm allowed to lust over unattainable men. Thank god I’ll never have to meet him again. He is ridiculously gorgeous in person, I couldn’t cope with that again."

"Did he reply to you?"

"Dunno, I'm sitting on my phone. Probably not." Callie dug under the cushions to retrieve it, "Oh shit, he has replied - it just says 'good to know.' Oh, he's sent a link to a song, he said it reminds him of the book." Callie clicked the link and turned up the volume. She looked across at Beth. 

"Didn’t you play this on repeat for about 8 months while you wrote?" Callie nodded slowly. "Bit mad that he's gone for the same song." Callie nodded again, incredulous.

"I'm sending him the full playlist." She decided, getting the link and adding it to the message stream with the caption 'here's my full playlist for the book, crazy coincidence that you went for that track.' He replied with a purple heart, and Callie resisted the urge to keep the conversation going.

Callie landed in Chicago a week later, stopping briefly at her old apartment to get more of her stuff before continuing to her best friend's home. After some calls to her agent, Laura, she had managed to sign a lease on an apartment in New York within the month, and packed up the rest of her belongings. Messages from Jason dropped into her Twitter DMs once or twice a week, recommending the best place in Brooklyn for tacos,  they’d exchanged book recommendations. It felt strange after so long to be living alone. Laura had found her a tiny apartment close enough that they could regularly meet. Since traveling the country together on her book tour, and the break up, she and Laura had become close friends. Callie was grateful to not be starting over totally alone in a new city. She settled down to write, but found again that the words wouldn't come to her, it felt like an age since she’d managed to successfully put pen to paper. Without really thinking, she picked up her phone and sent a message via Twitter: 'What do you listen to when you write?' The response came through almost immediately with a link to Run The Jewels - a duo she'd never heard of. She hit play without replying to the message and emerged 4 hours and 10,000 words later to a new message. Not on Twitter, on WhatsApp, from a number she didn't have saved already. 

'I talked Brett into giving me your number, I hope you don't mind. Hope the music suggestion worked.'

'It did! I finally got something going. Nothing like a looming deadline to hurry me along. I was on a couple of talk shows last week - it was completely bizarre. I don’t know how you do it. Weird as fuck.’

‘You get used to it. Send me the link, I wanna watch.’

Callie dropped the youtube link into their message chain and got back to work. The messages became more and more regular back and forth - discussing new episodes of TV shows they’d recommended to each other, swapping playlists and books. Callie even sent over recipes she’d made, with photographic evidence of how they’d turned out.

Over brunch, Laura put a coffee cup down for Callie and caught sight of a selfie of Jason and Brett on her phone.

“Well this is unexpectedly wonderful Callie Draper. Does Brett know he’s got a new role as matchmaker?”

“Don’t be silly, we’re just friends. We really got along when we met and he’s just really easy to talk to.” Laura hummed, looking at her own phone. She froze reading an email and Callie looked up at the notable silence. She’d expected the Spanish inquisition but it was nowhere to be found. “What’s up babe?”

“Fuuuck. Callie, fucking hell.”

“Laura! What is it? What’s going on?” Laura slid her phone across the table and Callie read the open email;

‘We’d like to invite Ms Draper to the offices to discuss a potential collaboration in getting her book adapted as a series. I’ll send the details across shortly. I'm away in LA for two weeks so we’ll get something booked in early next month. Netflix would love to have something like this in our wheelhouse so I’m really excited to meet you both.’

“Netflix?” Callie whispered in awe, more to the phone than to Laura.

“NETFLIX baby! Netflix!”

“Fucking hell. Fuck me, what do I do?”

“We meet with them, obviously!” Laura took the phone back and frantically drafted a response. Across the table, Callie picked her phone up and wrote a message of her own.

‘Holy fuck, Netflix want to meet me next month to discuss adapting the book. Fuck me, what do I do?!’

‘That’s amazing news - congrats! Meet with them of course, there’s no harm in hearing what they’re thinking of. Meeting with them doesn’t mean you’re committing to them. You’ll crush it.”

‘I know fuck all about TV. Hope you’re ready for a Padewan?’

In London, Jason laughed at his phone before sending a Yoda gif in response. Callie beamed at the reply before concentrating on Laura who was practically combusting. A few days later, a huge bouquet of beautiful sunflowers arrived on her doorstep with a note from Jason and Brett.

Do it you must, young Padawan 💜

She’d cried and sent them both a picture, thanking them.

‘Anytime, anything you need. You’ll do great, I can’t wait to hear all about it.’ Jason had replied.

The Netflix meeting soon rolled around and Callie listened intently. It had sounded great, she knew very little about TV but she’d heard enough to be a little wary of their business model of cancelling both popular and underperforming shows. She wondered if she was ruthless enough for them but found herself hiding those fears from Jason and Brett. She asked Laura to keep Netflix at arms length for a while, playing on her other deadline commitments, while she tried to work the scenarios in her own mind. They were walking through the park when the call from Apple TV reached Laura. She excused herself away from Callie slightly to take the call, before returning with a huge smile.

“Apple wants to meet you now. It happens sometimes, they’ll have heard through the grapevine about the things Netflix are looking into. Sometimes they’re bothered and want to see for themselves, sometimes they leave each other to it. Could be good for you though to hear out another option? They’ve booked us in to meet next month.” Callie was speechless. They parted ways and Laura went back to the office while Callie went home to write. On the way, she sent Jason a message.

‘Now Apple wants to meet me. This is insane. Insane! I’m really wary of Netflix. I’m not sure they’re the right fit. How did you know when you went with Apple?’

‘Amazing news! We were lucky with Apple, we knew right away and they’ve been really supportive. Couldn’t wish for a greater bunch of folks to work with. At least you’ll have something to compare Netflix to.’

Callie smiled, she knew he was right. They’d batted enough ideas back and forth over the last 5 months to know when each other was on the right track. She settled back at her desk and picked a playlist to write to. Time to focus on the day job - not the possibilities of what might happen.

[shirogane-oushirou]

OMG RO HAPPY ANNIVERSARY WAJFEKAHFEKE ;-; take this as an opportunity to gush if you want!! <333

KJNASDKJN THANK YOU NICK!!! technically i messed up yesterday, it's actually tomorrow kjsndfjkn, but i started the gif and art reblogging early bc i've collected so many lmao ;; i'm the only oushirou gif-maker and people WILL see my boy!!!!!

i was going to gush on my anniversary art post, but you've handed me a golden opportunity to do it here. you will regret this. :3c 💞

[cw quick mention of a scene where he's called a slur]

oushirou's been my most beloved, specialest, best boy since my first year in college. i was working my way through the games, and i saw his profile in some artbook scans, and i went... who the FUCK is this guy??? KAJSNKDJN. i hated his design so much; it didn't fit with the rest of the series's designs.

but he immediately won me over as a side character in the pc game, and then i was Doomed the second i booted up to play the PSP port with the added oushirou route (our 13yr anniversary is the day i started posting about playing his route lol). i became The Oushirou Guy™ in the eng fandom from that point on ;; and, of course, now i'm like "i need MORE characters who look like this guy, RIGHT NEOW" kjsnfkjn.

and then a year later -- 12 years ago tomorrow -- the last game released AND, FINALLY, he had his own karedanna cd! a fandom friend sent a rip to myself and my also-oushirou-lover friend, as we were waiting for ours to ship... and he proposes in it. my friend and i both made this day the wedding anniversary in commemoration. i even have some ancient joke art i made on the release day itself LMAO

i love him so much more than i think i let on; ren's my main right now, so that's what people know me for, but oushirou really is The Blueprint for me.

he's so self-driven. he could have lived a cushy, comfortable life following the family trade as a western fortune teller, but he would rather throw that -- and an unealthy relationship with his family -- away so he could follow his dreams of being a photographer and journalist.

and he's loyal. after his life is saved by another student (kazuki), and he realizes kazuki will be held back due to spending too many days recovering from the injuries he incurred, he makes sure he's also held back a year so he can play as kazuki's right-hand-man during the remainder of their time at seigetsu academy.

also like... ngl, him being a scorpio is like 👀 he's a freak like me LMAOOOO we can be like "every zodiac girlie hates our pussiessss" together. 💖

oh. and then of course he's the Ambiguously Queer Character of the series. he's a little fruity w it in general, he loves crossdressing, he's flirty with kazuki, homare, and shiki, he's stated outright that his love for kazuki and tsukiko are equal and he can't decide between them, and his fashion sense is just a little cherry on top ksjdnfk.

ugh. honeybee's just itching to call him a slur i s2g.... wait omg wait they actually had some one-off characters call him a slur in his first route KJASNDKDJNSDFKJN WAIT???????? I JUST REMEMBERED??????? it was one of the first scenes i translated from his route i'm lksnfkns oh my fucking god. and everything since then has been like. doubling down without actually calling him anything. crying omg ksjdnfkjns.

ANYWAY. just a year ago, he was the character everybody associated me with, only beaten out once ren appeared. even my art username is based on him (zerofoursix -> 0-4-6 -> o-shi-ro -> oushirou). he's pulled me through so many things, from shitty college experiences to my health issues... to even being part of the reason why i picked art back up after i took a 5-6yr hiatus due to art school burnout. ;;

i love him so so much, forever and ever, my beloved hentai sentai red*, my adhd king, my most skilled f/o by a LONG shot**, my scorpio twin, my misunderstood weirdo... he's Everything to me 😭💗

* think i've posted about it once before, but it's a running joke that he's a sentai hero who regularly saves tsukiko from creeps in his AW route ;;

** photographer, journalist, multilingual, fashion-forward, western fortune teller, super emotionally intelligent... i could go on. the guy hides SO MUCH of his power level around others.

[league-of-sam]

Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

Ghost x Reader

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

Catching A Ghost: Masterlist

Eyes fluttering open as birds sang outside, you woke up to the morning light flooding your room. For once, you felt rested. You'd slept through the entire night; peacefully and undisturbed.

Going to sit up, you realised you couldn't.

The heavy weight of another body had you pinned to the mattress.

Turning to the side, you smiled softly. There laid Ghost...Simon. Face smushed into the pillow as he lay on his front, his arm draped over your waist. His legs were tangled in the covers, much like yours. The covers had slipped down, exposing his bare back to the air. 

The sight made your mouth water.

As quietly as possible, so not to disturb him, you slipped out from his grip, escaping the confines of the bed. You were still clad in just your underwear and his hoodie, but given the fact it was so big, you shrugged, opting to just thrown on some fluffy socks.

You headed to the bathroom, combing your hair into a quick bun and brushing your teeth. When you returned, he was sat up, a pout playing on his lips.

"Ya left me." he whimpered.

"I went to pee, Si." you said, rolling your eyes.

You walked back over, perching on his side of the bed. The second your ass hit the mattress, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you on top of him.

"Don't wanna wake up without ya." he mumbled into your hair.

You giggled, placing a soft kiss to his knuckles, "I promise I'll wake you next time, okay?"

He just hummed, eyes falling closed as he nuzzled into you. This soft side of him was so new, and so raw, you weren't really sure how to react to it.

"I'm so sorry..." he started, but you hushed him.

"I don't wanna think about it anymore, Simon. Can't move forward if we're constantly addressing the past."

"But I don't deserve you. Said some right shitty things to ya the last couple months-"

You huffed, sitting up.

Using what strength you had, you pulled him upwards, so the two of you were sitting cross-legged, facing each other. 

"Okay. Let's talk about it."

He looked at you, completely baffled. He wanted to shrink and hide by the way you'd gotten up, scrambling so quickly out of his grasp. He was prepared for the yelling, the spiteful comments...but none of it came.

You were looking at him the same way you always did.

Showing him he was safe.

Waiting for him to start.

Patient.

"Y-you...wanna talk about it?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Of course I do. It's bothering you, so let's talk about it and we'll decide how to move forward together." you smiled softly.

He blinked.

Complete bewilderment struck his features.

What the hell was this? 

Simon's throat was dry. He didn't know what to say now, not when he knew how wholeheartedly you were listening. This had never happened; never. Simon Riley loved his mother, he truly did. She was the only light in his life when his shitbag of a father was around, but even she neglected his needs. 

And here you were, ready and willing to tend to every single one.

"I- I...I don't know what to say now."

His head dropped to stare at his fingers, and he found himself wishing he had the mask on so you couldn't see the way his face reddened and the tears that surfaced.

You frowned, taking his face in your hands, "Look, Simon- my brother told me you've got baggage, okay? I don't know what, but I want you to know that when you're ready, you can talk to me."

He looked at you, blinking rapidly as the tears left his eyes.

"Despite everything, I'm going nowhere. It's you and me, remember? You said hurtful things to protect yourself, so did I. Everyone does. That doesn't mean you're undeserving of love...and support."

"W-why?"

"You healed my wounds, I wanna do the same for you." you spoke quietly, now also feeling a little embarrassed.

Then his mind clicked on something. 

Every time he'd spent the night with you, he didn't dream. He actually slept. He felt...

Safe.

He reached forward, dragging you into his lap and leaning back onto the pillows to support himself. You hummed contently as he placed his lips on yours.

"Okay." he whispered.

You smiled, warmth and happiness bubbling inside you. Finally, the cold, stoic, lonely Simon Riley had completely let you in, opening himself up for you to see.

Eventually, he got up, heading into your bathroom to use the shower.

You took the opportunity to get up too, making the bed and cleaning up a little. However, in trying to bend down to grab a sock, you tripped, and your small body clattered into the metal table by the small love seat at the balcony.

You'd let out a rather loud yelp as you fell, and the sound of the table falling next to you was even less subtle.

Cursing to yourself, you pulled yourself up, groaning at the sight of your collected clothes now being strewn back on the floor. What you didn't see coming, however, was the entirety of the 141 to come bursting into your room with no warning, holding a variety of weapons.

You screamed, louder this time, enough for Ghost to hear you from his shower along with the clanging of various metals.

Your hand landed on your heart, trying to calm it's beating, "what the fuck?!"

"We heard you scream! Are you okay?" Price said, still looking over the situation.

"Is there an intruder?" Soap screeched, bringing his weapon up.

"I-i just fell...I'm fine." you breathed with a laugh.

You took a moment now to look at them properly.

Price had been first through the door, swinging round the fire poker from downstairs. Soap was level, his hair completely dishevelled as his eyes wildly scanned the room. He had stolen the lance that the suit of armour in the hallway held. Gaz was the final person in the room, the only thing in his hand was a heavy book.

A fucking book.

"We thought you were dying!" Price exclaimed.

"Oh? And who the fuck would you be hurting with that shit? You guys are special ops! How on earth did none of you grab your fuckin' gun?!" you emphasised, arms flailing as you spoke.

The boys looked at each other then, and realised that indeed, none of them had grabbed the one thing that actually would have saved you from said intruder.

Silence lingered, until the three of them started in an all-out argument over how stupid the other's were.

You shook your head, a smile plastered on your face, until the shower switched off, and silence fell again.

"Uh...who's in your shower?" Gaz said.

You said nothing, heat creeping up your neck.

Soap eyed you, until he gasped, "What the fuck are you wearing?"

Your eyes widened, and Price raised his eyebrow at you, "more like what aren't you wearing? Jesus fuck (Y/N)-"

Looking down, you saw your outfit; Ghost's hoodie, underwear, fluffly socks.

As you opened your mouth to answer, the bathroom door flew open, and a panicked Ghost emerged from the steam, a single towel wrapped loosely on his waist.

"(Y/N)? Babe you alright? Heard ya scream what the fuck- oh." 

He had crossed the room rapidly, taking your face in his hands to check you over, not even registering the open door, and the sudden guests. That was, until your jaw swung open, and your head jerked to the door.

Now, it was your three saviours staring with open mouths. Their eyes flicked from you, to Ghost, back to you in nothing but his hoodie, to the clothes on the floor, and then back to Ghost's very low towel.

"Oh...my...God!" Gaz exclaimed, breaking the silence.

Ghost groaned, moving to stand behind you, trying to savour some of his dignity.

"Fuckin' hell, L.T." Soap said, wide eyed, as he took in Ghost's glorious naked form, "there's no hope for any of us is there?"

Price elbowed his side, sending Soap hunching over in pain before turning to the two of you.

"I know I said sort it out but bloody hell-" he pinched the bridge of his nose, "so, you two are..."

He trailed off, causing you to nod.

"...and you're doing that..." you nodded again, and Ghost cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"John, please, it's okay." you begged, and he placed the poker down, approaching you, and taking your hands in his.

"Are ya happy?" he whispered.

"The happiest." you replied, sincerity all over you face, "it's all good now."

He smiled, placing a kiss to your forehead, and then looked behind you to Ghost. The two shared a curt nod, before Price walked out of the room, dragging Gaz and Soap with him.

The two protested loudly, but soon the door was slammed shut, leaving you and Ghost alone once more.

You turned to face him, stifling a laugh, "Well, that's one way to announce it."

"What the fuck 'appened?" he said, fingers dancing on your cheek.

"I fell, they panicked, burst in here like I was being murdered."

Ghost let out a low chuckle, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you in for a kiss. Soap's voice floated up from the kitchen below, making the two of you laugh.

"No fuck that Gaz I wanna know why Ghost gets away with fuckin' shagging Captain's sister but God forbid I was caught starin' at her arse!"

"Because you're a fuckin' animal, Johnny." Price had replied.

"Awa' an bile yer heid! I am a gentleman!"

"Yeah but you did nothing to even hide your crush on her those first two weeks, Ghost was...subtle." Gaz spoke.

"Was he fuck! Alex noticed straight away-"

Ghost rolled his eyes as you looked at him with surprised features. You opened your mouth to tease, only for him to place his finger to your lips, shaking his head as he moved you back toward the bed, a smirk playing on his face.

You and your fucking mouth.

[quirkyfandomurl]

Ninth chapter of my fic, hope you enjoy

(Tw for implied disordered eating habits)

Max pushes himself up off the forest floor. He snaps a small twig under his palm, flinching a little at the sound and then cursing himself out under his breath. He puts his hands in his hoodie pocket and starts hurriedly making his way to the tents.

He slows down once he gets near the tents. Max peeks through the trees to check if anyone is still milling about. No one. He creeps out of the woods and towards his tent, the dust of the campgrounds crunching lightly with each step. His eyes scan the area once more. A brief, quiet sigh escapes him. He slips into the tent.

A tall shadowy figure sits on one of the unused cots.

"Shit-!" Max yelps.

"Max- it's me, David," the presumably David figure says in a hushed tone.

"Why the fuck are you sitting there like some sort of fucking-" Max stumbles over his words, flapping his hands wildly. "I don't know, some fucking creep!"

The cot to the left of the tent creaks slightly. David stares at the cot for a moment before speaking.

"I needed to talk to you," David answers, his voice uncharacteristically serious. Max's mouth goes dry.

"What do you mean?" he asks, grabbing at the ends of his hoodie sleeves.

"I wanted to check up on you," David's words are slow and careful, "and to make sure you're safe."

Max's brow furrows. "I'm fine. Happy?" he says, a sense of caution weighing on his words.

The corners of David's mouth turn down slightly. "What were you doing out so late?"

"Nothing. Just going on a walk to cool off," Max quickly replies. Widened green eyes stare at David from the other end of the tent.

"Well," the counselor briefly pauses, "next time you go on a walk, make sure to bring a buddy with you. I'm sure one of your friends would be happy to join you," his voice is soft and gentle, as if trying not to set off a tripwire. "Ok?"

Max nods. David gets up. "Good night, Max," he says as he passes him.

The boy climbs into his cot. He pulls the covers over his head. Mr. Honeynuts is hugged close to his chest, pinned by his curled knees.

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

"Wake up, campers, today's a special day!" David's cheery words pierce the sleep of the rest campers. "Today is lake day!" Groans sound from almost all of the tents.

"Like we don't go to the lake every other fucking day…" Max mutters, still tucked in.

"Better than a hike," Neil offers, shrugging as he sits up. Max murmurs an unintelligible response.

Neil drags himself out of bed and to the rickety coffee maker set up in the tent. Max peeks out from under the covers to watch. Neil spoons the grounds into the filter. He almost puts away the grounds before getting interrupted.

"Wait," Max says, "leave those out."

Neil pauses, shrugging and placing the bag back on the small table. It almost falls off, but Neil catches it and scoots it further towards the machine, preventing a would-be tragedy.

Neil is almost finished preparing his coffee. Max is just starting to drag himself out of bed. He throws the covers back on the thin mattress and steps over to the machine. It groans to life once again after Max goes through the coffee making motions.

The two campers exit their tent and join the blob shuffling towards the mess hall. Nikki spots them from across the small crowd and runs over.

"Hi guys!" she says to the pair. "Whadya think this lake day will entail?"

"Lake shit," Max answers. Nikki frowns slightly.

"Swimming, fishing, maybe going out on a shitty old boat," Neil responds, loosely rolling his wrist as he speaks.

Max snorts. "Maybe literally," he adds.

"Get your breakfast, we're leaving soon," Gwen says from a table in the corner of the room. The campers line up and get their meals, then sit down at the tables.

Max slides his tray over to Nikki. "You can have this," he says.

"Really? You sure?" Nikki grins, albeit a little weaker than usual.

"Yeah, shit sucks anyways," he says. "Just let me have my tray back once you've got the stuff."

Nikki scrapes the gray mush onto her meal. It keeps a near perfect form, complete with plate texture on the bottom. She spins the tray back to Max as instructed.

Max watches as David makes the rounds. Most campers give the verbal equivalent of a shrug when he tries to make small talk, but a few kids - namely Space Kid - actually engage with the counselor's benign questions. Max can't understand why they do, but he doesn't mind. Doesn't hurt him. It actually might help in this instance.

It's not too long before David makes his way over to Max's table. "How are my happy campers doing?" he asks with a cheery smile. Neil mutters a "fine", Nikki gives a thumbs up from her pile of mush, and Max merely shrugs.

"Good to hear!" he chirps. Then he notices Max's plate. "Max, where's your food?"

"Ate it," the boy simply replies.

"That fast?" David asks, brows raised and eyes wide. He shakes his head quickly and briefly.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it!" he beams. "See you at the lake!" The counselor waves at the kids before continuing on to other tables.

"What a fucking idiot," Max scoffs, "fell for one of the most common tricks."

"You sure you don't want some? I can share," Nikki offers, nudging the tray towards Max. The tray nudges back with a light push of Max's hand.

"Keep it. Seriously," he grumbles.

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

All the campers are gathered at the lake. The murky water laps at the lake shore, leaving a saliva of dull brown grit on the shimmering blond sand. Schools of small, black fish swirl in its stormy belly.

The co-counselors stand side-by-side on the dilapidated wooden dock. David stands proud while Gwen stands with the sun in her eyes. Early morning isn't the best time to be facing east.

"Today, we're fishing!" David proclaims with a grin. A small hand rises from the crowd. "Yes, Harrison?"

"Wouldn't we need a boat to go fishing?" he asks.

"Not if you use your hands!" David answers.

"Oo, great!" Nikki squeals.

"Oh, great…" Max grumbles.

Another small hand emerges. "How?" Nerris asks.

"Well," David says, "I can show you."

He walks off the dock, hopping onto the soft sand of the lakebed with a gentle thud. The campers watch as he wades into the more than slightly murky waters. Little fishes dart away just below the water's surface. Tiny black tails tuck themselves under the dark blanket.

"You need to let the fish come to you," he explains. He stares intently at the water. The water stares back.

"God, how long is this gonna take?" Max groans.

"Patience, Max. The fish will come when they're ready," David replies in a hushed tone.

After a few minutes, the fish start to trickle back to their previous locations. David remains completely still. Tensions among the school begin to ease as they cautiously accept David's legs as a new fixture of their environment. One particularly gutsy guppy dares to venture mere inches from him.

That's when he strikes. Massive hands crash into the water. Fish flee. Dirt stirs. The lake spits in David's face. The dejected counselor returns to an upright position, his shoulders slumped. He quickly rights himself to his regular ruler-straight posture.

"You know what they say; if you fail, try and try again!" he reassures himself.

Just as he said he would, he tries again. And gets the same results. Fish flee again, dirt continues to stir, and grimy lake water soaks the Camp Campbell shirt tied as a bandana around his neck.

He rights himself again, a shaky smile plastered on his face. "Third time's the charm!"

The cycle repeats. Max watches with mild contempt. David stands dejectedly once again. Only this time, he doesn't straighten himself. The fish won. Gwen steps off the dock and over to her co-counselor, resting a gentle hand on his soggy shoulder.

"Face it, David. Humans aren't meant to fish without tools," she consoles. He looks at her with big, sad eyes. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, a peppy voice breaks in.

"Not with that attitude!"

Nikki runs into the water, hands wildly grabbing for any fin or tail. She plunges her head into the lake. Muddy water fills her mouth, but no fish.

"Nikki!" Gwen scolds.

Nikki resurfaces, spitting out the water and wiping her tongue with her dirtwater-covered hands. "Blegh!"

She shakes her head wildly. Waterlogged pigtails shower both the counselors and all the campers with the gritty liquid. David yelps, jumping back and drawing up his arms. Futile attempts are made by the campers to shield themselves from the brownish rain. Gwen sighs.

"Alright, I'm calling it a day," she decides. "We're going back to camp and drying off."

"Can I stay? Pleeease?" Nikki pleads.

"No," Gwen bluntly answers.

"Awww!" Nikki protests.

"Come one," Gwen says, herding her and the other campers along. David trails behind the group. He casts one last forlorn look at the lake. It waves a sneering, brown goodbye from the shore.

[domesticcaboose]

“Hey, it’s Bradley”

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Gn Reader

TW: Cursing, like a lot of cursing

A/N: it’s my first time actually posting my writing on here so pls be nice! Also, feel free to mention anything we need to fix grammatically. Proofreader and coauthor is @lunamoon1744

“Hey, uh, it's Ro-Bradley. It's Bradley. Fuck it’s probably late where you’re at. Sorry, I just, fuck, look, I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I loved you, love you, still love you and I know this is a shitty way to go about it but there’s a mission and I don’t know whether I'm going to make it back, but I was back at Top Gun for a few weeks, and God, all I could think about was us, you, and how much I love you and how much I fucked you over and I’m sorry. God I'm so fucking sorry an’ I’m not asking you to forgive me but I can't die without apologizing, without letting you know that leaving you was the worst decision of my life and if I could go back I’d-, fuck I’m running out of time, I just, I love you so fucking much and I, I gotta go, fuck, I’m sorry, I love you.”

Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster. God, you loved him, and he had broken your heart. It’d been a few years since the breakup, and honestly you're surprised he still knows your number. Lord knows you had to look back into your contacts to figure out whether he called you through his phone, or someone else's. It was probably the ship's phone, seeing as you still had his cell number in your contacts.

It probably doesn't matter by now. If he went on the mission right after he called you, that would have been 15 hours, 48 minutes, and approximately 56 seconds ago. You begin pacing back and forth across the house. If he was going to die, he’d already be dead, and if he was going to live, he’d already be back on the carrier. Plus, there was no guarantee he was even going back to Top Gun, he could be going straight to his next assignment. You stop dead in your tracks. He could be dead.

Then again, that was the problem wasn't it? It didn't really matter, you would go to the ends of the Earth if he had asked you to, if he had so much as implied that he needed or wanted you to. Maybe that's why you had already finished packing, bag already by the door, heart already knowing what your head was trying to figure out.

Leaning over the kitchen island, you pull out your laptop and start looking for any possible flights to anywhere even remotely close to San Diego and Top Gun. A few hours that pass over your nerves like shitty tap dancers, about 50 tabs, and a coffee or three later you finally come across a flight. It's expensive, significantly more than you would ever pay normally, and through an airline you've never used before. It's also leaving in an hour from an airport 49 minutes away. Taking a deep breath, you say fuck it and start typing your credit card numbers in, because you are tired and desperate and you just need to be there in case he did come back.

God, you hope he's alive.

It was a seven and a half hour flight and a two hour drive, having booked the first flight you found to anywhere close by. You had a bit of a drive to get to Top Gun, but you honestly can’t remember much of your trip. How can you? For all you know, you're doing all of this for a funeral that you're not even sure you would be invited to.

You're not completely sure how you ended up in front of the Hard Deck. Well, that's a lie. You know damn well why you stopped here before trying to find a hotel. It's an aviator's bar. It's where the aviators go after work. You’d been here with him the first time around. When you were dating. When you thought you were going to marry him.

It's stupid, and emotional, and childish to stop. It’s been a little less than two days since he made the phone call, and if he is alive he'd still be on the ship, or in a hospital somewhere. That didn't stop you from walking in, from looking around, from ordering a drink, from sitting down and waiting on some distant hope that he'd pop through the door. You haven't actually figured out what you're going to do when you see him again. But fuck if that didn't mean you still wanted to see him.

It was another three days of watching and waiting, of sitting at the bar with Penny, of wondering whether or not the last actual conversation you will ever have with the love of your life was when you broke up, when he told you he never loved you.

It's your fifth day in San Diego, when you see his Bronco in the Hard Deck parking lot. You know that fucking car anywhere and you know for a fact that if it was here then Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw was alive. Which means he could have damn well called you and informed you of such!

Taking a deep breath, as to not preemptively jump to conclusions, and to not kill the first person that looks at you wrong, you hurry up and force your way through the Hard Deck’s doors, making a scan for tall, brunette, and mustached.

It's not hard to find him. He is standing by a handful of other pilots and Penny. She's under who you assume is the pilot named Pete’s arm, looking very amused by your entrance. Bradshaw, on the other hand, is laughing lazily with his friends, like you hadn't thought he might be dead for the better part of the week.

“BRADLEY FUCKING BRADSHAW!”

The sound of pool balls clinking stops almost immediately, and you hear whispers arising from some of the pilots scattered around the bar. The man of the week looks in your direction, and while his eyes light up, his face falls as you start marching across the floor towards him. “...y/n?”

You feel multiple eyes on you as you stomp across the bar, and out of the corner of your eye you can also see a few heads turn. “What in the ever loving fuck is wrong with you? The fuck was that phone call?” You come to a stop right in front of him, jabbing your finger into his chest. “Have you been landing too hard it’s starting to fuck with your head?” there's a snort on your right, coming from some Ken-doll-looking motherfucker. “Because that shit-”

“Y/n?”

“Is not okay! At all! You don't call someone, and tell them you love them, and that your sorry, and then just fucking disappear! Honestly! Give me one good fucking reason I shouldn't hit you upside your head, I swear to god-”

He interrupts you by pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him, and you use every ounce of self control to not hug him back. He leans slightly back, looking into your eyes, and opening his mouth to speak.

“You came?” …you came? YOU CAME? What in the ever loving fuck did he think you were going to do after he called, go to brunch and have some fucking mimosas? Chill at the beach? Not lose your absolute goddamn mind?

“OF COURSE I FUCKING CAME!” You struggle in his arms before giving up and grabbing his shoulders in order to pull him down a bit so your eye level. “We may not have left on the best of terms, but I still fucking love you! Honestly, you could have called me at any point and I would have shown up because that's what you do when you love someone! And maybe that wouldn’t be my best discission but, fuck, I've never had a doubt that you would-”

“You still love me?” Maybe it was the way he said it, sounding like he was going to cry, or the way he looked like he was in complete shock over the fact that you still love him, even though he’s the one who walked away, but it makes your anger fade from the loud and explosive kind to the tired and worried one.

“Jesus fucking son of a fuck I swear to-” deep breaths, homicide is illegal and there’s witnesses, lots of witnesses, because almost everyone in the bar has turned to stare, nosey fucks. “-Yes. I love you, I loved you when we were dating, I loved you when we broke up, and I love you now, but, if you say one. More. Stupid. Fucking. Thing. I'm going to drown you in the ocean-” and it's true. You do love him. But it's also true that if he doesn't stop interrupting you, you are going to try and throw him in the ocean. It wouldn't work, you've tried it before, but it would make you feel better.

He smiles like a dumbass, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. He puts his hand on your cheek, leaning down and pressing your foreheads together. “I love you too.”

“Yeah, I’m aware, but I swear to god if you interupt me one more fucking time-” which, he of course decides to do by kissing you. Which, not to say that you are complaining, but it's hard to stay mad when he's kissing you like it's all he's ever thought about. Putting both of your hands on his chest, you lightly push him away. “-we’re not in a movie. Kissing me’s not gonna get me to shut up-”

“What if I kiss you multiple times?” And isn't that a tempting offer? But, as much as you love him, that phone call was the worst possible way of getting in contact with you again.

You narrow your eyes, the corners of your mouth twitching ever so slightly up. “You can kiss me everyday for the rest of our lives, but it’s still not gonna stop me from thinking you're an idiot and calling you on it.”

“Promise?”

You can't help but to shake your head and smile. “Goddammit Bradley, I'm trying to be mad at you, you inconsiderate asshole. Yes, yes I promise, for as long as your dumbass wants to keep me-”

“Forever then.” And there it was, that stupid fucking smile that you loved. The one that made you stop yelling, at least for the moment, because he was alive, and he loved you, and he wasn't going to walk away this time. Sighing as you lean into him, the exhaustion of the week finally starts to catch up with you, but at least you know that he's safe.

[reidsahacker]

Pillow ;)

vinnie hacker x female reader

warnings: sir kink, breeding kink, slight cum play, lil bit of degrading, and some praise.

words: 1.8k

im so sorry this took so long to get out and its not even that good lmao

my personal life has been shitty and ive had writers block, its just been ass all around lol. i love yall though and thank you for sticking with me and being cool af. my requests are open so please send them in! im trying to get back in the swing of things and writing.

you and vinnie are at the hype house's warehouse working on his rx7. he has been trying to get his car up and running again for months. most of the time you are helping him, handing him tools he needs, looking things up for him, or pressing the gas when he needs you to. today though, it's all stuff that you can't really help with, so you are sitting next to him in a chair watching tiktok while he works.

it's slightly boring but he does look incredibly sexy working on the car and he doesn't have a shirt on. everyone now and then you glance up at him and can't help but feel feel a dull throbbing in your core. sometimes he catches you looking and winks, even though you two have been together for over a year he still makes you nervous.

as you scroll through tiktok you come across a video that peaks your interest. it's about putting a pillow under the girl during sex. the comments are all about how the sex was even better than before. you and vinnies sex life is amazing and very healthy, but it would be fun to try something new though.

"hey baby?" you ask as vinnie slides out from underneath the car.

"what is it sweet girl?" he asks as he stands up from where he was sitting.

"come watch this video." you motion for him to come over to you.

vinnie walks over while wiping his hands on a towel, still very much shirtless and slightly sweaty. he grabs the phone from your hand and presses play. as he watches the video you can't help but stare at him from this angle. the way sweat drips down the side of his face, just like it does when he fucks you good.

"you wanna try this baby?" he questions with a smirk on his face as he crouches down in front of you.

you nod your head, hoping that he won't make you speak up because you don't know if you can. your mind in a completely other world right now.

"let me clean this all up and then we will head home pretty girl, why don't you go start the car." he says while handing you the keys to the car, giving you a quick kiss and sending you off with head nod.

as you walk to the car you can't help but think about what he wants to do or has planned. as soon as you get to the car you start it and move to the passenger seat. vinnie comes to the car a few minutes later, he gets and starts to drive to the house. his hand goes to your thigh, he feels you clench your legs together and chuckles.

"whats got you so worked up, bunny?" he questions and glances over at you.

"nothing, i'm not worked up." you lie right through your teeth, for some reason you don't want him to know how easily he gets to you.

"yeah? so if i put my hand up your pretty little skirt your won't be soaked? you've been clenching your thighs together since we got to the warehouse. so i will ask you again, what's got you so worked up, bunny?" he says while his hand slowly moves up your thigh, you can't help but watch his hand.

you close your eyes and whisper out a small "you, sir."

"good girl, now spread your legs. gotta make sure you are ready for when we get home." he says as he teases your folds through your panties. he teases you the whole way home. by the time you pull up to the house you are a whimpering mess, who wants nothing more than to cum.

before you can get out of the car he turns you to him with a finger on your chin "go upstairs to our room, take your panties off and wait. i will be up in a minute." he gives you a kiss and sends you on your way.

as soon as you reach you and vinnie's room, you take your panties off and sit on the bed. all you can think about is what he might possibly have planned. in less than five minutes hes in the room locking the door.

"grab 2 pillows baby" he says as he approaches you.

you grab a couple of his pillows and don't think anything about it until he says something.

"of course you grab mine, you insatiable bunny." he chuckles out while grabbing your chin and crouching down. he runs a hand up your skirt, feeling that you don't have any panties on. he looks up at you with a smirk, standing up as he grabs your hand bringing you with him. vinnie lays the pillows on the bed and turns you around, so your back is to his chest.

"get on your knees on the bed, bend over the pillows." he whispers in your ear.

as you get on the bed he helps guide you to lay comfortably on the pillow. your hips are rested on the bottom edge of the pillow and its putting a delicious pressure on your tummy. you feel vinnie lift up the skirt you are still wearing, the cold air hits your core making you hiss and clench on nothing.

he runs his fingers through your slit, stopping at your clit slowly rubbing it in circles. you try and hold your moans back but fail when you feel him slip his cock in. you both let out groans of pleasure, nothing will match the feeling and burn when his cock slides in. no matter how many times you two have sex, you still have to adjust to his size.

"feel good baby?" he asks while waiting for you to tell him he can move.

"mhmm, feel you in my tummy vin. i'm ready, move please." you whimper out.

the pressure coming from his cock being bottomed out in you and the pressure from the pillow has you ready to cum now. you can't help but bite your lip to suppress your moans when vinnie pulls almost all the way out and slams back in.

"god you are so tight baby." he moans while thrusting into you at a slow pace. his thrusts are slow and he keeps hitting the spot inside of you that drives you crazy. both of his hands are on your hips gripping for life. he is trying not to lose it at the feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock.

“mm not gonna last long sir, feels too good.” you moan out while arching your back to feel him even deeper. he picks up the pace and starts to slam into you harder. vinnie reaches his hand around and presses on your tummy.

"you feel that baby?" he whispers in your ear, causing you to let out the most pathetic whimper. "want me to put a baby in you?" he groans out.

“yes sir p-please, breed me like the whore i am.” you whimper out as you clench around his cock. “vin- im gonna c-cum, can i cum? please sir?” you beg.

“you know i love it when you beg bunny, do it some more.” he groans out, taking his hand off your tummy and moving it to your clit.

“please sir, rub my clit. i’ve been good.” you cry out while clenching around him again, causing him to groan and lose his rhythm for a moment. “wanna make a- a mess on your co-cock sir please, let me cum vinnie!” you beg out, as your eyes start to sting.

“good ahead bunny, cum all over my cock make a mess. you earned it baby.” vinnie says as he starts rubbing your clit in tight fast circles. he knows you aren’t going to last long and neither is he.

“fuck thank you sir, thank you.” you scream out as you feel your high getting closer and closer. tears start to stream out of your eyes as your high hits. it’s euphoric, you’ve never came this hard.

vinnie works you through your high while still chasing his own, he could have came when you did but he wanted you to feel him cum. he wants you to feel what you do to him. he wants you to know that only you can make him cum like this.

“fuck bunny look at you, so pretty when you make a mess on my cock.” he groans out, he’s not going to last much longer. “you ready for my cum bunny.” his thrusts are getting sloppy and you know he’s close.

“fuck give it to me vin, cum in me sir.” you moan out. even though you are overstimulated you want him to finish in you. you want to feel him fill you up. “cum in me baby, do it sir.” you clench around him in a state of overstimulation but it’s what sends him over the edge, shooting his warm seed in you.

“fuck y/n, you are going to be the death of me.” he says after he pulls out of you, watching his cum spill out of your swollen core.

he scoops some of the cum up on his fingers and pushes it back in you. you hiss out due to how sensitive you are. you can’t help but look back to him and moan at the filthy sound his fingers make while shoving his cum make in you.

he pulls his fingers out and brings them up to your lips, tapping them. you open your mouth and suck his fingers moaning at the taste of the two of you together.

“god i love you” he says while pulling his fingers out of your mouth. vinnie grabs the pillows out from under you and throws them at the head of the bed. you roll over onto your back as he does and grabs a warm towel.

vinnie gets you and himself all cleaned up and grabs one of his shirts for you to wear. he has you sit up on the bed and lift your arms up so he can slid the shirt on over your head. once you are dressed he throws on a pair of sweats.

you two climb under the covers and lay down. vin pulls you into him so your head is resting on his chest. your hand instantly goes to tracing the spider tattoo on his sternum.

“i love you too by the way.” you say smiling up at him.

“i know you do baby and i love you.” he says while running his fingers through your hair.

you feel your eyes start to get heavy and before you know it you’re drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

[bluecookies02]

When they make you cry

pairings: Hawks x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Aizawa x Reader, Izuku x Reader, Tamaki x Reader

Tamaki, Bakugou and Hawks are in a female!reader perspective, the rest of them are Gender Neutral

warnings: angst to fluff

masterlist

Hawks will get cocky, laughing in your face when he sees your shocked expression.

Both of you were going at each others throats, spitting insults to one another, just your recent daily routine.

Now Hawks knew you were a tough gal, which in his head made it alright for him to strike a really painful nerve into your chest.

As you remained speechless he turned around, a winning smirk plastered on his lips.

Just as he took a few steps forward, sobs wrecked your body as you hid your face in your hands.

"I d-don't think I can take this anymore Keigo" your broken voice reached his ears.

A pang of guilt pierced his chest once he turned around to face you.

He did this. He made you cry. He completely drained your happiness out. He hurt you.

His teeth dug into his lip, his eyes stinging as tears picked at them.

At that point, he didn't give two shits about who's right and who's wrong, his arms reaching for you and wrapping themselves around your shaking form.

He held you there for a while, listening to your cries that gradually turned into soft sniffles against his chest.

"I-" He opens his mouth but his words remained stuck at his throat.

"I don't want us to end..." you mumbled, your own words throwing you into another sobbing fit.

"We won't end here kid, I've got you...shit...I'm a fucking idiot...of course we won't end sweetheart...c'mon look at me" he raised your chin up gently, looking into your red eyes.

"I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry...not just for today, for every day before this, I-, God... don't leave kid, p-please"

You stared at his face, tears now streaming down his cheeks as his grip on you tightened.

You swallow the lump in your throat, grabbing his hands in yours.

"Something has to change Keigo...I miss you...we've been distant for months. Sometimes you don't even come home to me, do you know how that feels?"

"I know, I know, I swear... I miss you too. I'll tell you about everything I promise. Let's go home please."

You hesitantly nod, putting your heart on the line for the last time.

And now looking back, you're glad you did.

//quirk: flesh manipulation (the reader can manipulate the molecules in a person's flesh just by touching it, making them useful mid-battle to make the other heroes ready to fight again in a matter of seconds, but also making them a threat to their enemies )

If there was one thing he despised about you, it was your guts.

Hell curse him for falling in love with someone so stubborn.

To live through a relationship with Dabi meant that you had to have though skin. You had to be strong enough to bite your cheeks and endure the issues that people in regular relationships never face.

He enters your home, covered in bruises and cuts, asking for your first aid kit.

You sigh to yourself, your usual nagging and yelling never reaching his ears.

You place the first aid kit onto your bedside table, turning your back to him, tiredly walking out of the room.

"Hey-" his voice calls out to you, quiet and confused.

You close the door behind you, making your way to your couch.

One of these days it'll be the last time he walks into your home, the last time you help him clean his cuts and the last time you hear his voice.

The weight of uncertainty pulls at your chest harder with every passing day.

He chose to continue living like this, he is the one that keeps ruining his own life, it's his ambitions that are making you this miserable.

Once he patches himself up, he sits on your bed for a while. Your silance meaning one thing and one thing only. You finally realized how pointless being with him is, you finally got it through your thick skull that he's nothing special to dwell about.

Time passes by quickly, a few hours already gone yet he's still glued to the same spot, not having the strength to leave your room, too scared to face your rejection once he gets out.

He should be happy for you, you won't be hurting anymore, you'll be able to find someone better.

He slowly twists the knob, taking slow steps through your living room.

You are laying on your couch, tear stains on your face and a tissue crumbled in your hand.

His chest tightenes at the sight. You cried yourself to sleep. He wonders... how many times did you cry over him? How many times would you just lay here as he carelessly roamed the streets?

He should leave...he should spare you the pain he brings. You were the only good thing in his life and by continuing this he'll ruin you, piece by piece.

You showed nothing but kindness to him, you made him realize that some people are worth getting close to, you being a hero also making his resolves shake under his feet.

He stretched his arm out to your cheek, careful not to wake you up.

He left a soft kiss to your temple before leaving your house.

-----

You woke up to a persistent ring of your doorbell.

You felt terrible...your hair was a mess, your nose was all clogged up and your eyes burned from all the crying.

You opened your door with annoyance, mad at whoever decided to burst your sadness bubble.

"Hey doll, I would've let myself in but my hands are kinda busy"

Your boyfriend stood there with a backpack on his shoulder and a carton box in his hands.

"So...do you happen to have a room to spare for a year or two...maybe three?"

You stare in disbelief your hand covering your mouth.

"I know that me being a villain might be a setback but...I got some hair dye? I might even consider letting you fix my jigsaw face."

Your body crashed into his, the box dropping to the ground as you squeezed your arms around him.

Maybe he can make you as happy as you make him.

You knew he was rough around the edges, but you never even imagined that you would be the one his rage would be directed at.

As soon as insults came crashing your way you left the room.

You were just trying to calm him down, placing your hand on his shoulder as you urged him to stop shouting and just let it go.

His rough hands grabbed yours, throwing your hand away like you were a mere fly, his quirk burning your skin.

You tried calling out to him just for him to snap around and scream at you.

Once you reached your dorm tears freely rolled down your cheeks.

You yearned for a normal relationship, longed for some peace and quiet just for a week or two.

Yet you just couldn't let the blonde go, always hoping for some miracle to come your way and take ahold of his ego.

--------

It's around 2 am and he can't fall asleep for the hell of it.

You're not picking up his calls nor answering his texts and you've been inactive on social media for hours.

Kirishima has been urging him to go to your dorm for two hours already, spamming him massages about him not being manly enough to win you back.

It's not like he doesn't want to, he just has no idea how to. Should he get you something? Get you some food and flowers? Where the fuck can he find all these things at 2 am? Isn't that how people in movies apologize or something...

He hates when you're mad at him, he is scared shitless of actually scaring you off and pushing you away.

A knock at your door snaps you out of your thoughts and a small flame of hope warms your heart for a split second as you make your way to your door.

He's holding a gray hoodie and a pair of bento boxes.

"That's not gonna fix it Katsuki."

"I know shitty woman you didn't even give me a chance to speak!"

You're sure that that's the first time Bakugou said the word "sorry" in his whole life.

The way it rolled off his tongue was shaky but somewhat determined, his hand grabbing ahold of yours gently.

Guilt was evident on his face as he stroked the bandages covering your hands.

"It's not that bad Katsu, and I understand that it was an accident." you mumbled trying to pull from his grip so he can focus on something else.

He grabbed ahold of your wrists, bringing your palms to his lips.

"I'll work on it, I promise. It'll never happen again. I mean it." you just give a soft nod, leading him to the table.

"Good. Now let's eat, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" you cheered, opening the bentos and stuffing your mouth with rice.

"Y/N...it's 4 am."

"Exactly, now eat, you're not gonna let me eat all of this by myself?!"

For this man, it was close to impossible to make his s/o cry.

He cherishes the relationship he has with you, making you feel special every single day at a time.

So when he sees you crying, he's confused and alarmed.

He reaches for you, trying his best to give you the comfort he thinks you need.

When you push his hands away and scream at him...Oh boy...

He's terrified.

Did he do something? Did he forget your anniversary? Your birthday? Did he eat your snack from the fridge??

You're pulling at the strands of your hair, your head buried into your knees as you sob.

He looks around, eyes widening when he sees a photo of himself and some girl kissing on the screen of your phone.

He wasn't there? He has proof! He was in a meeting! All of his colleagues could confirm that, he just needs you to listen! Please listen to him.

He's talking...blabbering...begging for you to just look at him.

As soon as you look up for a split second, he's hugging you, smothering your face in kisses as you weakly try to push him away.

Finally he leans his forehead against yours, letting out a long sigh of relief when he realizes that you're not crying anymore.

"Please Shouta, please, if you even have any respect for me, don't lie to me." you mumble out coldly, turning your head from him.

"Y/N, I would never, ever do that to you! Never! I love you so much, please, you have to know that, you do know that!"

You're too stubborn, but he calls all of his colleges one by one, putting them on speaker for you, asking about the time of the meeting or details of the meeting and they all have the same answer.

So now, your throat is dry and there's a lump in your throat, guilt eating at you as you try to apologize.

He couldn't give two shits about any of that, all he has to know is that you're okay and that you're still his.

He's not letting you go for the rest of the day, you're wrapped under the blankets with him as he makes sure you never believe the bullshit you see online.

"Sweetheart if I ever cheat on you, that's the day I cut my own dick off and bleed to death."

It makes you giggle and then laugh hysterically and he's just looking at you with the biggest heart eyes 🥺

Izuku would never do anything to make you cry.

He pays attention to every single detail in your relationship and he especially pays attention to your feelings.

What he is really bad at, is taking care of himself.

He doesn't take in consideration how you feel when he comes home all stitched up and tired, or how he stays up late to train and push himself further than his body can take.

However one day, he is exhausted from his training and he barely has any strength left. His phone rings and he is rushing out the door, already panting.

You don't reach him in time to stop him, so here you are, hours later next to his hospital bed.

The villain wasn't too powerful, but his state caused him to pass out in the middle of the bettle field.

As soon as he wakes up, you're yelling at him, but at the same time sobbing against his chest.

"I can't just stand here and watch you hurt yourself Zuku... I can't, I can't, I can't....O-one of these days you're just gonna slip away from my hands, I can't. Please" You're grip on him softens as you loose the strength in your hands.

His arms wrap themselves around you, trying his best not to flinch as you rub against his bandages.

His eyes are watering, realization dawning on him as he holds your tired body against him.

You're right...He sees the state of himself after a lowlife villain with a pathetic quirk sent him into the hospital. He doesn't even want to think about what would've happened if there was someone much stronger out there.

"Hey Y/N...I-...I might take a week off, to rest yeah? Does that sound good?"

You nod, wiping away the tears as you sniffle.

"And you won't be training at night anymore. And you won't be staying up late!" you scold as he rubs your cheeks.

"I won't. I promise." he places a kiss at your temple, pulling you onto the hospital bed next to him.

"Let's sleep for a bit yeah? I might owe you a few hours..."

You're crying, he's crying.

He's down on one knee and he's stuttering, his hands shaking as he hears you cry out a happy "Yes".

He barely gets the ring on your finger, burying his head into your neck as soon as he gets to his feet.

You always thought that he was going to propose to you at home, maybe some homecooked dinner with roses and candles. You didn't mind that option either.

You were surprised that he even suggested a walk in the park.

I mean, it was a really small park with little to no people in the area but it was beautiful nonetheless.

You're all giddy and happy as he takes your hand in his, his eyes always glancing at the ring on your finger.

Once you spot an ice cream stand you leap in happiness, rushing to get ice cream for the both of you.

The lady selling it smiles brightly at you.

"Is that the lucky guy?" you nod grabbing your icecream as Tamaki hides behind you.

"Good job sweetheart, you're making this lady very happy, I can feel it in my old bones" you laugh at her remark as you nudge Tamaki forward.

She hands him his ice cream and winks at him.

He's blushing and thanking the lady before running off to an empty bench.

”He’s a lil’ shy but he's got the spirit” you say to the lady as you rush off to get him.

You take the time to really study the ring, the beautiful blue crystal shining in the sun.

”I...I hope you l-like it...Nejire helped me out. Uhm I probably shouldn't have said that...S-she-"

"I like it Tama...I love it actually" you place a gentle kiss just at the corner of his lips, his hands grabbing your cheeks and kissing you deeply in return.

His cheeks are warm and his lips are slow against yours but you melt against him, letting him place you in his lap.

"Oh my God, I have a fiancé, oh my God, I have to call Mirio and tell him you said yes. You said yes, right?"

You laugh as you shake your head at him, playing with his hair as he fumbles with his phone.

All of the pictures are from the original anime/manga (please do correct me if I'm wrong in the comments below)

The Tamaki one has no angst in it because I had to heal from all of the emotional rollercosters.

___________

requests:closed

commissions:open

Ko-Fi | Patreon 

[damiano-mylove]

Movie Night

Pairing: Damiano David x fem!reader

Wc: 2.6k (sorry)

Cw(s): SMUT, bit of angst, swearing ofc, long for some reason, begging, not proof read

*Masterlist*

Work is a healthy habit to get into - to a certain extent. If you work to avoid your problems, that's not particularly one of the most healthy things to do. The only problem working can fix is if you're poor, but really minimum wage doesn't fix that either.

But your Damiano wasn't poor, he wasn't being paid minimum wage. You knew how much he loved working on music with his friends, but he was barely home and you missed him. Being without Damiano almost felt like being without your left arm - especially since it had been so abrupt, going from him spending a few hours writing, to spending almost a full day in the studio.

Tonight was supposed to be movie night. That Damiano had suggested. To make up for lost time.

So, you found yourself, alone, on your velvet red couch, watching Alice in Wonderland, with your cat on your lap. His purrs filled whatever wavelengths were left empty by the film, but you didn't mind that at all. Your fingers found their way into his incredibly soft fur, which felt like silk between those fingers of yours.

The clock soon struck midnight, and the film hit the end credits soon after. Damiano was still not home from the studio, which almost worried you. Almost. In the earlier days of him spending all of his time at Vic's for writing or in the studio, you had thought he'd run off with someone else. You woke up the next morning with him next to you, but that never really put that specific worry to rest.

"Romeo, Baby," you whispered to the silver tabby cat on your lap. He flicked his tail to let you know he heard you. "Dad's not home yet and I'm tired, we gotta go to bed. C'mon." Romeo only lifted his head to lay his grass green eyes on you once you stopped scratching his neck. You smiled to him, though his eyes didn't return it. "You've got half a minute before I move your furry tush."

To no one's surprise, Romeo took more than half a minute so you picked him up like a baby over your shoulder. Your palm cradled his soft feet. Like the lazy cat he was, Romeo fell back asleep on your shoulder on your short walk to your bedroom that you shared with the one and only, Damiano. He used to be a god to you, but now he was basically a roommate who you shared a kiss with every once in a while.

With Romeo asleep on the bed before you finished putting on pyjamas, you slunk off to brush your teeth. The door unlocked. Your heavy eyes cast unto the clock on the wall which read nearly half midnight.

Damiano came in like a whisper in the wind, save for the closet opening so he could deposit his coat. Shaking you head, you just finished brushing your teeth. Your mouth felt dry even though you'd just rinsed it with water.

"Cara mia," Damiano purred once his eyes caught your figure in the lamp light from the bedroom. You smiled at him and went into the bedroom to curl up with your cat and go to sleep. You had work in the morning and customers didn't appreciate workers who look like sleep-deprived zombies.

This was the first time in a long time that you didn't immediately greet him once he came through the door. So Damiano could sense a shift in the mood of the flat; really, he felt it as soon as he walked in and smelt chocolate and strong tea.

His footsteps never gave away where he was, but you could feel his presence enter the room. The bed dipped on the end just as Romeo curled further into you. When Damiano's hand held your ankle, Romeo let out a soft meow.

"What's wrong, Amore?"

"Did you forget or did you do it on purpose?" You immediately sat up as you asked the question. You were tired and to act like it was fine just wasn't in the cards tonight. Damiano's eyebrows drew together. You began to nod. "Movie night? You said you'd come home early to watch a film with us."

Damiano's face darkened in realization. You pursed your lip balm coated lips. Even Romeo could sense the tension and decided to stand up and sit square on your thighs, facing your boyfriend as if to protect you. Damiano looked to his hands which rested in his lap.

After a second, he said, "I-I thought that was tomorrow."

"Tonight was Tuesday night, now it's Wednesday morning," you muttered. Your fingers found the reassuring warmth of Romeo's fur once again and Romeo let out a rather sad sounding meow. "Oh, Romeo, don't worry. Dad just has to tell us he's sorry then we can sleep."

Both you and your cat looked to your boyfriend with tired but expectant eyes. Damiano's eyes never tore from his hands. Then it was like he was speaking to himself. "I was going to buy you flowers. And let you pick the film. And you were supposed to fall asleep on my shoulder, on the couch."

"It's okay, Dami, it's just a movie night," you told him. But your conscience caught you before you continued. Why the fuck were you reassuring him when he was the one who fucked up? Tell you that he'll be home in time for a sort of date night, then skip out. "We'll do it another night, it's all good."

"It's not all good, Y/n." One thing you could agree on tonight, though you'd never say that out loud. Finally, Damiano lifted his eyes from his soft hands. You noticed his eyes shimmer in the lamplight. "I really fucked up your night and for no good reason. I'm really sorry."

Leaning forward, you patted his arm. "Forgiven. We're adults and life gets in the way of romance."

"Not always, and not for us. I'm supposed to be the best boyfriend in the world but I've barely been a boyfriend to you at all lately, and I apologize." His words were stringing together faster in faster as he kept trying to keep his tears at bay. "It's just with the new album and everything, I'm finding out how shitty I am at balancing my life." Damiano came closer to you, holding your hand that once held his arm. "How can I make it up to you, Y/n? You're the love of my life and I don't want us to fizzle out."

For some reason, a little chuckle escaped your lips. His passion for you warmed your heart as you caught a glimpse of how you first had your heart captured by the man sitting before you. The light glittered in your eyes, for Damiano and Damiano alone. "We're not going to fizzle out over one missed movie night."

"Yes, but I've missed many of our nights, whether we made plans for them or not," Damiano rebutted. Your lips pressed together in a flat line. There was a certain ounce of truth to that statement. Damiano pressed a kiss to the back of your hand without maintaining eye contact. "Cara mia, nights are for the lovers, and I seem to have forgotten that."

His warm breath tickled the back of your hand just before his pressed more kisses to the back of your hand, then wrist, then fingers.

Sensing the warming room, Romeo left your lap. He threw you a final glance, seeming like he was making sure you didn't need him in the room to which you slightly nodded at the tabby. Romeo turned on his paws and left the room - leaving two starry-eyed partners who were still most ardently in love.

Without another word, you joined your lips with Damiano's. It had been a long while since a kiss such as this one had occurred. In the place of the usual passing kisses, this one made the love shared prominent. This kiss felt as if your Damiano was once again yours and totally yours; not as if he ever wasn't, but this was a much needed reminder of that.

Holding your face in his large hands, Damiano deepened the kiss by turning his head ever-so slightly. His tongue slid into your mouth with a passionate fervour. There was no battle for dominance, but a mutual exploration of each other's mouths.

Damiano tenderly laid you down against the pillows on your side of the bed, though his lips parted from yours which was an unhappy fate. "Do you want to go further, Cara mia? I know this doesn't equal forgiveness."

"I've never wanted anything more, Dami, my sweetest love," you promised him. Damiano smiled at your admission. He began to place gentle, loving kisses to your neck. "Only if you want to."

"Oh, trust me." Damiano nipped your collarbone, resulting in a yelp from you. You could feel his smirk against your warming skin. "I want to."

Damiano's bites roamed the skin of your chest that your tank top allowed, before you sat up to take it off. Your fingers found Damiano's soft hair as he left sloppy, wet kissed all over your now exposed chest. A bitten back moan escaped your mouth just as his tongue began to circle the tender skin of your nipple, making your back arch into the man above you.

This was an admission of your pleasure, so Damiano's mouth fully encircled your nipple as his hand that once caressed your hip, now cupped your other breast. His warm palm massaged you firmly, having Damiano's name fall from your lips. It had been a while since he'd touched you like this, with such care and attention. Every fiber of Damiano's being was now focused on making his love for you known.

When his warm mouth left your breast to be exposed to the chill of the room, his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple, having goosebumps multiply on your skin at a sky high rate. His mouth then was turned to your other breast as his other hand twisted and pinched the exposed nipple.

Your hands began trying to get his deep red shirt off, to bring his warmth to you. But before Damiano would let you have what you wanted most, he bit the sweet spot beneath your boob, no doubt leaving a mark that would be apparent the next day.

As Damiano leaned up to pull his shirt over his head, you nearly melted underneath him. His hair was already beginning to become delightfully fucked up and the look in his eye was absolutely dark. The look he gave you before joining your lips once again was full of love, accompanied by lust and desire. Damiano slid off his tight leather trousers while he was at it, allowing you to palm him through his briefs.

The kiss shared was now hungry and feverish. The nails of the unoccupied hand scratched down his back, resulting Damiano bucking his hips into your hand. You removed it, which finally gave you the glorious friction that you so completely craved. Damiano no doubt sensed this as he grabbed the back of your thigh as he continued to grind right into the thin layer that separated you both.

"Damiano, please," you nearly cried. The chuckle that came from Damiano was low and only made your panties become even more wet.

"Please what?"

"You know what I mean." He was killing you. Once the words left your lips, Damiano ground his hips into you again. "Fuck me. Fuck me, please. Please."

"See, was that so hard, Amore?" Damiano purred as he lowered the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. He threw them somewhere in the room before pressing his index finger against your clit. You tried to pull him in for a kiss, but Damiano resisted. "Ah, ah, I want to see just how much I effect you."

"You're the fucking-wow-devil himself."

Damiano's laugh bordered upon an evil one. "You love me."

"I love you, I love you so fucking much," you moaned. Damiano smiled as he lowered your grey panties. Those were discarded somewhere along with your pyjama bottoms, but you couldn't give half a fuck because Damiano's perfectly manicured finger found it's way inside of you. You bucked against his hand, making Damiano laugh.

His finger drew circles inside of you while his thumb still played with your clit. God, Damiano was so much better than your own fingers. Without a warning, another finger was added, making a sort of porn-esque moan leave you. Damiano groaned at the sound as well as the sight in front of him. Even his dreams of you weren't as good as this.

It wasn't as if he could help himself from leaning down once again and attaching his mouth to your erect nipple. Your eyes crossed at three parts of your body were on fire with immense pleasure. The flames of rapture enveloped most of your body, even your soul.

"I'm-m-m gonna cum," you cried out. Damiano smiled against your breast as his fingers began going faster. "No, no, let me cum on your cock." Damiano looked up at you with a bit of surprise. You'd never said something like that without prompt.

The needy look that painted your face was all Damiano had to see before he complied. His briefs were off in the blink of an eye and he began to pump himself just to prepare. Your legs were spread wide as you could already feel yourself drip onto the sheets below which made Damiano groan with barred teeth.

He lined himself up with your entrance and gave you one final questioning look. You nodded adamantly before he pushed himself through your folds.

Truly, you could feel your soul ascend as you remembered just how big he was. You big your lip so hard you nearly broke skin while Damiano hissed an intake of breath. He came down to your lips to taste your minty mouth just as his hips began rocking into you, first at a slow pace, then began to get closer.

Damiano's hips snapped into yours quickly, and the sound of smacking skin filled the room, along with the scent of sex and sweat. The combination of both of your moans filled each other's mouths. The bedroom was incredibly hot but somehow you were in a cold sweat, save for where your body joined with Damiano's in sweet harmony.

"Fuck, Y/n, you're so fucking tight," Damiano huffed. You clenched around his cock, only making Damiano cry out with pleasure. Your nails drew down his back, clinging him closer and closer to you with every thrust against your g-spot. Tears brimmed your eyes as a knot formed in the lower part of your stomach.

"Soon, I'm cumming soon."

"Cum on my cock, Baby, just like you want."

You could tell his thrusts were getting sloppy because he was closing in on his release as well. But you couldn't help but cum first as the knot suddenly exploded within you.

Your walls spasmed against Damiano as your release washed over you. Your legs tingled and your toes went a bit numb. Damiano then hit in you a few more times before his own seed seeped into you. It was warm and you felt incredibly full as Damiano stayed within you for an extra few seconds, before falling next to you.

"I know you said this wouldn't equal forgiveness but I'm feeling very forgiving," you sighed. Damiano chuckled and looked over at you. Your skin glowed in orgasmic radiance and your hair was completely fucked out. Damiano's heart swelled at the sight and he couldn't help but kiss you again.

He cleaned you both up after, with a warm wash cloth, and got you new pyjamas. Romeo reentered the room once the sex smell was gone and you were in Damiano's arms once again. Your cat curled between both of you in the dead of night, like the beginnings of a family.

Damiano came home Wednesday afternoon with a massive bouquet that must have cost a pretty pence, a box of Belgian chocolate and a bag of cat treats. It seemed a movie night was in order.

[waiting-for-cas-to-save-me]

Bakugo x reader

I dont normally do two posts in one day but oh well

requested my my gf not on tumblr YET

promt https://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/post/657975693823655936/when-you-were-seven-you-held-a-fake-wedding-by

This is also my very first my hero academiafanficSo please be gentle on me Sorry for shitty grammar and spelling I'm a fanfic author not Misha Collins

"Mawage. Mawage is what bwings us togethah today. Mawwiage, that bwessed awwangement, that dweam wifin a dream!

Kacchan and Y/n have come here to make this tweasured agweement in front of their family and fwiends, pwomising their commitment in this holy and magnificent pwace, today and each day fowawd.

We would not be here today without wuv. Wuv, twoo wuv between these two. Twoo wuv will follow you forevah, so tweasure your wuv, Kacchan and y/n, always.

Do you Kacchan, take y/n to be your lawfuwy wedded wife"the small green haired boy spoke stuttering and stumbling over his words trying his best to sound like an official priest

" I do" came from the mouth of a blond haired child as he held on to his "brides " hands in the park under the pine trees behind the slide.

"Do you y/n, take kacchan to be your lawfuwy wedded huswand"the green haired child spoke one more

"of corse she does Deku just do the part" the blond got more angry

"she has to say I do kacchan!"

"I do" y/n said confidently

"you my kiss the bwide"

Y/n looked ant the blond in a state of panick not sure what to do after all her mother was watching this whole ordeal happen when the bloond kissed her cheek and forehead

" I pwononce you huswand and wife"

the other kids there threw wood chips at the two of you as your mothers laughed at the sight only two of them knowing this wasnt just "some play ground wedding" Bakugo Katsuki was now able to assend the throne one day and become the king when he came of age with Y/n as his queen.

Everyone at school respected their playground marriageI knew if anyone tried to touch her,He would use his quirk and turn them into a crispy sandwich.She needed anything deku was to be on it.He would have laid down his life for both of them.as he knew when the day came he would be the one that would have to retrieve His best friend's bride.

Katsuki ( aka Kacchan) and Izuku(deku) had to move away with little to no knotice given to his "bride".Y/n I thought her best friend and her playground husband were going to leave her forever.She would miss them.more than she would ever understand.every year right around the same time of the playground weddings anniversaryHer heart would grow heavy her face to tear laden and stained.Her mother told her after 2 years to understand that it was just a playground wedding it wasn't the real things sweetheart one day the right man will come along and he will sweep you off your feet you aren't actually married to Katsuki Bakugou.He and his family moved away.

You first had to get through the years of elementary school and learning how not to activate your quirk.Then came middle school. You didn't really talk about what had happened as a child anymore.It was just in the back of your mind a kid you thought you'd never see again.

Then came high schoolAnd you're 17th birthday When you heard from him then for the first time. But you didn't seek him out and I guess he saw you out. on your 17th birthday you received a letter with a wax seal on the envelope.You opened it.and found your name and words telling youThat's someone would be coming to pick you up but in the next two weeks to take you to the land that you've never even heard of.where you your wedding from when you were 7 years old underneath some pine trees behind the slide was legal in binding.How are you supposed to tell your mom and dad.You didn't know,But you packed up your essentials things you know you need on a regular basis.Your heart fluttered knowing you get to see him again.It made happier than it shuld have But one thing kept pulling at your heart knowing that you may never see your parents again.Why didn't he ever tell you he was a prince ?Why didn't his mother tell anyone about it?Was as if you are part of this ?There for so many questions that had to be answered but you had to wait for the messenger to come and retrieve you before you could ask any of them.When the day finally came lo and behold it was a man The 10 years ago you man and wife himself your best friend.First thing you did was not give him a hug .You in fact you sucker punched him right into that .Which pain in here is that especially for just up and leaving without saying goodbye or anything really.Just had to go.He explained some things on the way,Made it clear to you that bakugo is a really in love you.he wasn't just using you for the throne like most people would think. no he truly have deep rooted feeling for you even back then .And now He has come of age and was time to claim the throne with you by his side..After hours of travel correction days weeks of travelYou guess their parents have put a missing report out for you so eventually you'd have to call them or send them a letter.Explain what was going onB ut it can wait for now there was one hope and concern was getting to see him again.And when you did man were you surprised he had grown up into wearing bright red his body was very well taken care of some would even say ripped .That's the one thing that you been aiing to see was those red eyes .those red eyes We're softer then When you had looked into and said the words I do not knowing What it ment He thanked Izuku for finding youI'm bringing you home.He asked if you even remembered him to what she said yes,he said sorry for leaving so fast It was not the way he wanted itBut he was still a child just the prince. now he's ready to take his place with you by his side once and for all . his hands calloused and warm but still his hands. he didnt kiss your cheek this time he planted a soft kiss on your lips this time andoffered to take you hiself to the tailor to have your own new wardrobe and anything else you'd need made or brought to you.

Part 2?

_____________________________________________________________

Tag list @writing-prompt-s @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 9

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: arguing, harsh language, swearing

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 8

Next → Part 10

The trek up the stairs from the store to the apartment felt like climbing a never-ending escalator that was going the wrong way. After the day you had had, you were both mentally and physically exhausted and ready to call it a night early.

Thankfully, as if you had finally hit a stroke of luck that day, Keishin had texted you saying that he would pick up dinner on the way home, saving you the exertion of having to leave the apartment again. So, with that information in mind, you kicked off your shoes for the day and fell unceremoniously onto the couch in the living room.

As you sat down, you heard the envelope in your back pocket crinkle and the sudden noise seemed to completely fill the otherwise silent apartment.

Ah yes, the envelope.

Pulling the decision to your future out of your back pocket, you stared at it for what felt like another hour or so. No matter how long you held the envelope in your hands, you couldn't force yourself to open it. You simply didn't want to.

At some point between when your mother had handed it to you and now, you had subconsciously decided that you wanted to choose your own path forward despite what the decision letter may or may not say.

Feeling strangely empowered and confident, you stood to your feet and ventured into the bedroom where you slipped the envelope into one of the drawers Keishin was letting you keep your clothes in and tucked it underneath one of your sweaters. Maybe one day you would open the damn thing when whatever was inside wasn't weighing so heavily on your mind and future, but today was not that day.

Just then, you heard the front door open and knew Keishin had arrived home. Closing the drawer, you plastered a smile across your face and exited the bedroom to greet your boyfriend.

"Welcome home, Dear," you giggled, trying your best to fake the part of a doting housewife. "How was the volleyball game?"

Keishin chuckled softly as you took the takeout bags from him. "It was a close game, but they pulled it together in the last set and won."

"Oh, good!" You placed the bags onto the table before retrieving some plates and chopsticks from the kitchen.

"How was your day?" he asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You sighed as you thought back on your day. "It was okay," you answered, not really wanting to go into much more detail than that. You doubted Keishin wanted to hear about your minuscule problems with rude customers after the long day he had clearly had.

Keishin, however, picked up on your uncertainty right away. "Doesn't sound okay," he commented. "Want to talk about it?"

You shrugged. "Just some shitty customers. Seems I had forgotten how poorly low-level workers are treated sometimes . . . just threw me a little," you said. "I'll be fine. Just glad the day is over now."

"You and me both." He flashed a smile as he turned to head for the bedroom. "I'm just going to change quickly and then we'll eat."

"Sounds good." You started dishing out some of the food. "I was also thinking we could watch a movie tonight as well. I could use something to clear my mind."

"Sitting on the couch with a beer is an ideal evening in my book," you heard him respond faintly from the bedroom. "There's a new action movie that came out. I think it's about-"

You waited for Keishin to finish his sentence, but when he didn't, you cocked your head and looked toward the bedroom doorway. Before you had the chance to call out to him, he appeared in the doorway shirtless, eyebrows furrowed and the envelope from the university in his hand.

"W-why do you have that?" you asked, the look on his face upon discovering the letter making your heart drop. "That was in my drawer . . . why were you going through my things?"

"I was looking for my sweater, the one you always steal," he answered. "Y/N . . . what is this?"

Rounding the table and approaching Keishin, you snatched the envelope out of his hand. "That is one of the many reasons why my day today was so shitty."

As you turned to head for the kitchen to toss the envelope in the garbage and rid your life of it, Keishin followed you. "You didn't get in?" he inquired.

You shrugged. "I have no idea. I didn't open it."

As you moved to toss the letter into the trash, Keishin grabbed your wrist and stopped you. "Why are you throwing it out if you didn't open it yet?"

"Because I don't care what it says. I've decided that I'm going to stay here with you and work at the store. This is the life I want . . . the life I get to choose for myself."

"You should still open it," he reasoned. "You might change how you feel about it when you see the result."

"I don't want to change how I feel about it." You shook your head as you gently pried your wrist out of his grip. "No need to make things more difficult than they need to be. I've had enough difficulty for one lifetime, thank you very much. This decision is easy, and best of all, it makes me happy."

Gesturing to the envelope, Keishin sighed. "But this is what you wanted. When you told me about your dream to play soccer at the University of Tokyo, your face lit up. Why are giving up on your dream before you've even given yourself a chance to experience it?"

"Dreams can change, Keishin," you told him before sighing and deciding to humour him for a moment. "Okay, let's say I open this letter and somehow did get in. What then? I couldn't pay for that school in my wildest dreams; not without my parents' help. Sometimes dreams are just childish and unrealistic. So I found a new dream, one with us living here together."

"You could apply for student loans. Tons of people do." He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't think this is about the money or your parents. I think this is about us. You've gotten comfortable here."

Throwing your hands up into the air in exasperation, you huffed. "And so what if I have? Is that really so bad?"

"I just don't want you to throw away an opportunity like this over me."

"Over you?" you cocked a brow. "Because you're, what, trash? Not worth it? A lowlife? A burnout?"

Keishin bit at his bottom lip. "You know what's not what I meant."

Inhaling deeply, you glared down at the god-forsaken envelope in your hand and began to tear at the top. "Let's not fight about something that probably isn't even going to happen." You pulled the letter out and unfolded it, your eyes scanning the text quickly. "The University of Tokyo is notoriously difficult to get into and I-"

Keishin quirked a brow when you stopped mid-sentence. "What does it say?"

A broken laugh was the only thing you could manage as you lowered the letter and shook your head. "Un-fucking-believable." You handed the paper over to Keishin, the edge crumpled from where your grip had tightened when you read the decision.

Keishin looked at the page for all of two seconds before he found the bolded 'Congratulations' and a huge grin spread across his face. "You got in!" He was way more excited than you were about this. "This is good news. You can play soccer at the University of Tokyo. Come on, you can't tell me this doesn't make you at least a little happy."

"I wish it did," you answered honestly. "I wish it were that easy."

"It is! It can be." Keishin set the letter down on the counter and took your hands in his. "Student loans, part-time jobs, it's all possible. Sure, it might be a little tricky to work out, but it's totally possible."

When you didn't respond, Keishin hooked his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. "Accept the spot at the university. Follow your dream," he told you.

". . . but I'll have to leave you." You felt the words catch in your throat and tried your hardest not to start crying. "You make me happy—you're the first thing that's made me genuinely happy in a long time—and I don't want to leave that for a chance at something that might not even work out."

"But what if it does work out? You don't know that it won't," he said softly. "Don't end up like me, looking back at your past and wondering what might have been if you had just chosen a different path. I know this might seem good enough for now, but how will you feel after ten or twenty years of working the same dead-end job for the same shit pay all while getting treated like shit by people who look down on you? Look at how one day of catering to pretentious assholes made you feel. Do you really want to live the rest of your life like that?"

"But what about you?" you asked, your voice shaky.

Keishin dropped his head, a few stray strands of hair falling into his face. Unlike that morning, when he had been asleep with loose hairs in his face, he looked annoyed and frustrated now. The bags under his eyes and tension lines on his forehead were a stark contrast to the soft, peaceful face you had woken up to that morning.

"Don't throw this away over me," he repeated. "Don't throw your future away over a 26-year-old burnout."

Lip quivering, you sucked in a deep breath. "I thought you were different . . . but you're just like everyone else."

Keishin eyed you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You said I should make my own decisions and live my life how I wanted but it was all a facade." You slipped your hand out of his and took a step back. "In the end, you're just like everyone else . . . you think you have a right to plan my future for me without giving me a say in the matter. You want to tell me how to live my life just like my parents."

"How could you say that?" Keishin almost snapped but managed to collect his anger before he did. "All I want is what's best for you."

You scoffed as you wiped a tear from your cheek. "If I had a penny for every time I've heard that I'd have enough money to pay for the University of Tokyo and then you'd get your damn wish . . . I'd be gone."

"When did I ever say I wanted you gone? Why are you so adamant that going to Tokyo means we can't be together?"

"Why are you so against just letting me make my own decision about this?! Why do I have to go to play soccer at that fucking university and leave you? I don't want to leave you!"

"Why not? Why are you so damn hung up on someone like me?!"

"Because I love you!" The two of you froze in place the second those words left your mouth. Chest heaving from the shouting and high emotions, you snapped your mouth shut before you said anything else in the heat of the moment.

Eyes wide, Keishin stared at you like a deer in headlights. "You what?"

You debated whether or not you should repeat what you had said, but by then, the damage had been done. "I love you," you breathed. "And I know you told me not to fall in love with you . . . but I did. I fell hard and fast and now I'm stuck in you and I cannot possibly leave you so please stop asking me to."

You waited for what felt like an eternity for Keishin to say something, say anything. He opened his mouth a few times like he was about to, but nothing ever came out.

"Keishin . . ." You took a cautious step forward. "Please say something."

Keishin swallowed hard before looking you directly in the eyes. "If I said I didn't love you back, would you go?"

You felt your heart crack and the sensation of being punched in the gut spread throughout your entire body. "Is that what you're saying? You don't love me?"

"If I didn't, would you leave?"

You inhaled sharply. "If you look me in the eyes right now and tell me that you don't feel the same way that I do; that everything over the past few months has meant nothing to you, there would be no possible way I could stay in Miyagi," you answered truthfully. "If you tell me that you don't love me and that you never have, I would have no reason to stay in this prefecture."

Keishin's lips parted once more. "Y/N . . . I-" His brown eyes locked onto yours and you could feel what he was about to say even though he never did. "I . . . I can't do this right now."

With that, he brushed past you, grabbed a sweater from the bedroom and threw it on before storming out of the apartment, leaving you and the now cold takeout food alone.

Tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat, you turned to look over your shoulder at the decision letter sitting on the counter, practically taunting you.

You should have thrown the thing out the second your mom dropped it off. Or better yet, maybe you should have never made that deal with Keishin and applied for the university in the first place.

[wtftarot]

PAC Reading: The Hermit

Y’all it’s time for one of my favorite fucking cards in the major arcana The Hermit. The Hermit is all about looking inward, walking the road less traveled and searching for the truth. They talk about letting yourself be by yourself to find yourself and inner understanding.

As always this reading is for entertainment purposes only and is not a substituted or professional advice in any capacity. Use common sense and don’t be a dumbass.

Only two groups for this one, The Lantern, and The Walking Stick. So, pick one and head to your reading.

The Lantern

Tarot: three of cups, ten of swords rx, knight of cups, five of cups rx, page of wands rx, top and bottom of the deck: t: Nine of cups, b: nine of wands. Lenormand: Rider, Bouquet, Dog, Tree, and Lady.

I'm seeing that y'all have gone through a lot of growth internally recently and you know that there's still more to do but you're kinda looking forward to it or at least you feel ready for it. You may be kinda worn out and taking some extra time to rest is coming through to me but the main focus of this reading is that you've reached something of an impasse. You've come so far and first, let me say how fucking awesome that is. You're doing awesome, sweetheart. I'm hearing that you don't stop and appreciate how much you've accomplished, so we're going to do that real quick. Think of where you were, and how much you've fought to get here. You're fucking awesome, YOU DID THAT. LOOK AT YOU GO. IM FUCKING PROUD OF YOU, GUIDES ARE FUCKING PROUD OF YOU AND THAT'S TRUE WHETHER YOU AGREE OR NOT. ITS A FACT BABE. WE'RE ALL PROUD OF YOU. Now then, I'm going to call this the Not Really Impasse because the majority of y'all are going to keep going with this anyway but you know that moving forward means closing a door that will be locked behind you. I'm not trying to freak you out at all, there are lots of doors we wall through in life that we can't go back through. This feels like an impasse because you know you won't be able to go back, so you're kinda taking a breath and checking in with yourself. Making sure you're ready and that this is something that you want. I think the reason you may be here at the Not Really Impasse is this path you're on will mean leaving some things and people behind and you're not so much doubting, but taking the time to prepare for the goodbye. I'm kinda shocked at the lack of doubt that's coming through? Even if you feel unsure, the majority of you know that this is something you are going to do, it's just a matter of when. Foreplay/Long Time by Boston is playing on the radio. Yeah, there may be people or situations that try to pull you back into the past. This may be a change in worldviews that make you incompatible with people you know in the past or it could be as literal as moving locations. You know this path is what's best for you and it looks like it will happen quicker than you think it will. I think you know how the people around you will react and you have or are reaching a point where you're accepting that they'll disapprove and knowing that you'll be okay anyway. That doesn't mean it's not hard or won't hurt though. I think one thing you need to hear is that it's okay to care about people and still move on from them. It's okay to be sad that you're going even if it is what's best for you. It's okay to be torn. Knowing you'll miss them, or already missing them is not reason enough to stay in a place you've outgrown or need to move on from. If you go on this path you will miss the past a bit, unless it was like REALLY shitty in which case doubly proud of you. You deserve better. And actually, even if it was a super fucking shitty situation you may miss it sometimes, the human mind seeks familiarity always. Once you're used to something shitty, you may find it comforting. That doesn't mean it was a good situation, no, it was still shitty. But it's a shitty that you know, it's predictable and in the batshit place that is our minds predictable = safe, even when it's the opposite. Nostalgia is a dirty fuckin liar. Missing something doesn't even mean that you actually want it. With any change you make in your life, any at all, you will probably at some point miss the way things were before it, but that's okay. That doesn't mean it's okay to go back to it though. Take the time you need, but stay the course. You chose the lantern, you may not see how close you are to your goal but you can see what's in front of you and you know where you've been. Now is not the time to turn back. Sleep for the night if you have to, things will be clearer when morning comes. (dunno why I'm getting so much walking trail/ pathway imagery but whatever)

random ass vibes: take your meds, 999, purple, hiking, cross symbolism, boats, Aquarius, weasels? or ferrets? are they the same thing?? tv show- gravity falls, reality tv, pop/alt bands,

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The Walking Stick

Tarot: three of wands, four of cups, five of Pentacles rx, four of swords rx, and the emperor. Top/bottom of the deck: t nine of swords rx, b three of pentacles. Lenormand: Sun, Fox, Anchor, Bouquet, Bear, and Key.

Hello, my fuckers with imposter syndrome, and welcome to your reading. If y'all don't know what imposter syndrome is it's a term for when someone thinks they're not qualified or experienced enough to do something they're already awesome at. I'm getting several different things that this could be referring to, dealing with emotions, spiritual stuff, a creative pursuit, work, school, and children?? Some of y'all may have or are dealing with kids. Y'all seem to think you can't do jack shit, so you're overcompensating and trying to do everything under the sun. Burnout is coming through so fucking strong. I'm also seeing that you may not really know what you want out of life, so you're trying to keep up with what society says you should want. Y'all's message is simple and very fitting coming from the Hermit: It's time to take a break, not like a spa day, pampering break (you can absolutely do that if you want/need it, it's just not what this is talking right now.) This is a self-exploration break. Which is the whole ass point of the Hermit card. You're being asked to take some time to yourself to get to know yourself. You may be someone who has trouble sitting with yourself or doing things alone. (if you're someone who feels like you can't trust yourself to be alone because of what you might do, disregard this reading because this is mostly what it's about. Stay safe. You can come back when you feel safe enough with yourself to be alone) You may not even know what it means to sit with yourself. It can look like a lot of things, journaling and meditation are the common go-to's but it also can look like going to the movies alone. I just heard 'that's sad'. Ok, let me ask you something, have you ever wanted to go see a movie none of your friends wanted to see? Or maybe they were all busy and couldn't. So, you didn't go because you would've had to go by yourself? You ever had that experience? So, which is sadder? Doing things you enjoy even if no one will go with you? Or not going and being disappointed because you can't stand being alone? Learning to be alone is learning to do fun things and have fun alone. There's this view perpetuated in society that being alone is sad in general and I'm here to tell y'all that's total bullshit. Let me ask you another question, would you consider yourself very close to a friend that you're not comfortable being alone with? Probably not. So, if you're not comfortable being alone with yourself, are you really close to your internal world? Y'all are trying to use everything around you to distract yourself from yourself, don't freak out about it though. Everyone does this a bit, even if you don't have a darker internal world, you can be freaked by your own depths. Most people are. This break you're being asked to take is from other people and their expectations of you. Part of the reason you feel so insecure in your own abilities is that you're consistently looking at how other people view what you're doing instead of looking at it through your own view. You need to remember who you are outside of the people around you. This doesn't mean the people around you are bad or anything, just that you need to come back to yourself. Welcome yourself back with open arms. Sit and really listen to some music, find a chill bar and bring a book, find a class to take alone like pottery, or pole dancing, or boxing, or the guitar, painting, etc. Anything you've been wanting to do, but wouldn't because you would have to do it alone, do it. HAHAH ok, The Stroke by Billy Squier just started playing on the radio, so taking your pleasure into your own hands is being pushed here if that's something you're into.

random ass vibes: 444, tv show- supernatural, movie- silence of the lambs, yellow, tv show-dollface, tropical fish, movie- jaws, lot of tv/movies coming through. I have this vibe that if y'all move forward with learning to be alone after you make some progress with that, you'll want to come back to this and look at the other groups reading.

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