#/ im not going to let this hold me down- nor will anyone

[diam1nd]

i just want to say, to the people being my rock right now. i adore you to the ends of earth. @am4zon , @hexweaver , @sm4llville / @ourcharade, @01army, @razedhell, @americanedpsycho , & there's more of folks to which i haven't followed/found again- have shown such great empathy and understanding and, just thank you sm.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Homicipher ending 17 spoilers:

what abt mc clinging onto Mr Crawling after getting kidnapped by Mr Stitch bc they’re still shaken up but super relieved that Mr crawling came to save them

That route is so 🥹🥹🥹

You hasn’t stopped clinging onto Mr Crawling since he saved you from Mr Stitch, fearing that if you’d let go of him that you’d only get kidnapped again and taken elsewhere where you wouldn’t be so lucky. It also didn’t help that your mind kept wandering back to that moment where you were being hauled away, hand outstretched as you called out to Mr Crawling in desperation, before finding yourself in a room with Mr Stitch and fearing what he might do to you before the feeling of relief flooded your body when you saw Mr Crawling.

You were so relived that you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself into his arms, clinging onto to him as he rubbed your back as soothingly as he could, hoping to bring you some sort of comfort while trying to reassure himself that you weren’t going anywhere nor that anyone was going to try and take you away from him.

‘You pain have?’ He asks as he cradles you against his chest and looking you over to make sure Mr Stitch didn’t bring you any harm. ‘Me worry.’ He adds.

‘I’m fine thanks to you, just still a little unnerved is all.’ You replied as you tried to smile at him but it came across as forced and you instead just cling onto him even more, just wanting to get it into your head that you were safe, that no harm would come to you when Mr Crawling was there to keep you safe like he did moments prior; Unfortunately it seemed that no matter what you did your brain was leas to believe that you were still in danger somewhat and it made you unable to feel Mr Crawling’s attempts at comfort and reassurance which you absolutely hated.

Mr Crawling lets out a mournful sound from the back of his throat as he burrows his head into your neck, taking one of your hands and placing it atop of his head and gesture for you to stroke his hair with it, albeit it was a little clunky and clumsily but it did manage to make you smile a little as you began to stroke his hair on your own accord while he purred. ‘Keep you safe. It okay cry.’ He said softly as he made sure to keep a look out, daring anything to try and pry you from his hands and if they do, he’ll make sure to make it hurt however he can if it meant keeping you safe and sound in his arms like you were now.

You chuckled tearfully as you burrowed your head into his shoulder, breathing him in and ignoring the fact that Mr Crawling didn’t smell so pleasant, but in this moment you didn’t care as it was what you connected him with in means of calming yourself downs an regaining composure. ‘You did keep me safe, you really, really did. Thank you Mr Crawling.’ You said while your fingers became entangled in the long black tresses of his hair, toying with them at your own leisure, not feeling the need to escape his embrace just yet when it’s done nothing but bring you back down to reality and back to him.

‘You okay. Happy.’ Mr crawling utters as he shifted a little but as he does so he feels your grip on his tighten and your breath hitch in your throat, almost as though you were scared that he was leaving you when he would never dare entertain such a thing, and he lets out a sound akin to whimpering as he nuzzled your neck in reassurance. ‘Not going.’ He adds. ‘No leaving you.’ Mr Crawling felt you relax in his arms once again and your hand went back to fiddling with his hair and trying to even out your breathing.

‘Im sorry.’ You muttered against his shoulder. ‘Me seem weak.’ Mr crawling frowned as he was the one to tighten his hold on you this time, wanting nothing more then to infuse every ounce of affection and love he has for you into the embrace , letting you know that he was always going to be with you whether you wished for his company or not but in this moment in time you needed him more then ever and he wasn’t going to throw the opportunity to show how capable of a partner he could be away.

‘You strong brave. No weak.’ Mr Crawling reassured as he kissed you lightly on the head, keeping you close, keeping you protected and safe while he kept guard as you felt relaxed enough to fall asleep in his arms though not before saying one final thank you to Mr Crawling and pressing a sleepy kiss to his neck.

[whoreforsexymen]

heeeey!!!! Im back with more jayce request. I would like to see jayce x reader with the prompts “Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.” and “Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.”. This is giving me like rivals or enemies to lovers where jayce and the reader have some heavy sexual tension under the surface. One day jayce just loses all patience and snaps and takes all of his stress and anger out on the reader

Sink Like A Stone | Jayce Talis

Prompt Fic (See, Prompt List)

Prompt(s) Used:

#2 "Don't act like you didn't want to end up under me like this."

#21 "Shut up and take my fuckin' cock."

Pairings: Jayce x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns + Female Anatomy Descriptions

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Word Count: 8.3k (IDK what happened)

Tags: Songfic, INTENSE Smut, INTENSE Angst, VERY SLIGHT dub-con (it's not really dubcon--Jayce just get's really consumed by anger at one point--the unspoken consent is there) Hate-fucking, Lovers to Enemies then back to Lovers (??), Choking, Semi-Public Sex, Biting, Slapping, etc.

Summary: You and Jayce are ex-lovers. You hate him for plagiarizing and stealing your life's work, and he hates you for leaving him over what he considered a selfless act. After months of having not seen each other, you two get into a heated screaming match turned hate-fucking. However, Jayce may have let his emotions get the better of him.

Notes: OKOKOK, so. Be warned. This one is a DOOZY. I was in no way planning on adding 90% of the elements I added to this story. They just kind of happened.

(Special note to @milkbean69 !! I really took this and ran with it. If you want me to redo it in a much tamer way. Please let me know and I will.)

((((Side note, this is going to have to be a two-parter! Stay tuned for part two, which will be much softer.))))

‘We lie,

Cold.’

Jayce.

A name so simple, so unassuming, it would slip unnoticeably through anyone else’s mind. But to you, it holds weight. Each syllable, each breath that forms it, feels impossibly significant—a name that stirs something deep within you, a quiet echo of poignancy known only by you.

Your feelings towards the Jayce Talis you once knew were complex and hard to define. On one hand, you despised the way he insinuated himself into the council of Piltover’s most prestigious Academy, taking a seat you believed was rightfully yours—one you had fought tooth and nail to earn.

‘Dam up the river,

We can go, slow.’

His so-called “vision” for Piltover’s future, with that abominable Hextech nonsense, had directly sabotaged the plans you’d spent years perfecting. You may not have had the luxury of Arcane magic to ease trade, but you had crafted a much more practical blueprint to connect Piltover to the rest of Runeterra’s trading world.

Yet the moment Jayce and his fragile “partner” wielded their so-called “magic,” your ideas were dismissed, overlooked, and ultimately erased.

‘We don’t wanna,

Know.’

On the other hand, you had always considered him a friend—seemingly more at times—until the day he practically ripped the rug of your life’s work out from under your feet.

Not to mention he had the gall to call it his idea. “His” idea? Please. It was your idea, just re-wrapped in a fancy mystical package. You had worked on it together, after all. Jayce had spent countless hours rambling about the mysticism and potential of those tiny blue stones of his, insisting they could revolutionize everything you had ever strived to achieve. Never once did you imagine that, once he unlocked their power, he’d turn against you, abandoning the partnership and the vision you had once shared.

‘Dull down our senses,

Become numb.'

What kind of name was Hextech, anyhow? It felt devoid of sophistication, lacking both subtlety and the gravitas one might expect from something so profound. It didn’t quite capture the essence of what it was—an intricate fusion of magic and technology—nor did it convey any sense of elegance or purpose.

Although, you couldn’t deny that you often reminisced in memories of your life before his grandiose “discovery”—robbery, really— of Hextech—your idea.

‘We take our time

Ignoring all the signs

Living in fear of our lies

Never bad enough to break it

Or, good enough to feel right.’

You had spent the better portion of your youth with him, much of it tangled amidst bedsheets, consumed by a shared, desperate need to relinquish each other’s physical tensions.

‘Been in overtime,

Half our lives.’

Sometimes, you could still feel the softness of his touch, the warmth of his lips grazing your skin—and other, much more tender, places. You could easily recall how your body had ached for him at times, but even more painfully, how your heart had longed for him, too. A truth you never dared to utter aloud.

The absence of anything beyond those intense moments of passion never really crossed your mind during the thick of it all. You never questioned it, and in hindsight, you’re almost thankful you didn’t—especially after what he had done after all that time. All of the time spent together, collectively fantasizing over your dreams and aspirations of a better life for all citizens, and a better future for the next generations to come.

‘Under indecision,

We become so dependent.

On the rush,

Of the moment.’

The bitterness that had consumed your heart was unbearable now, and the thought of ever confessing your feelings to him seemed almost unfathomable—impossible to imagine how much worse it could have been for you now if you had.

By this point, you were acutely aware of how deeply you loathed him. Your physical desires had long since faded, especially since you hadn’t seen or spoken to him in months. You had even gone so far as to move to a place he couldn’t find, cutting off every trace of connection, and the bond you once had.

Your skin ached with longing for him, your body and soul craving his touch once more. Yet, no matter how intense the desire, you would never allow him a single opportunity to return to your life.

It was a painful contradiction to bear—hating him, yet craving him all the same. You felt trapped, consumed by hopelessness, unable to escape the turmoil inside.

‘Sanitize

My head.’

You hadn’t moved far—just to the other side of Piltover, away from The Academy, the council, and—most importantly—-Jayce, himself.. The distance was a great relief. In your day-to-day life, there was no real risk of encountering him, and that small sense of safety gave you some peace of mind.

However…

You often found yourself testing that peace, pushing the boundaries of the distance you’d created. You weren’t entirely sure why—maybe it was the deep, unresolved desperation for him, or perhaps a semi-conscious, self-destructive choice of yours.

‘Death murders

Everything in sight.’

Each night, you found yourself walking almost the entire length of Piltover, from your new home to the Hexgate monolith on the far end—the very place you had fought so hard to escape.

Seeing the towering structure always left you with a deep, melancholic thrum in your chest. It represented everything you had once hoped for, everything you had worked and slaved over, now reduced to rubble by its mere presence.

‘Beneath the rip in the wind

The pillar push you aside.’

That tower stood as an unyielding symbol of betrayal, a constant reminder of the anger and anguish that had shattered your world at the mercy of Jayce’s hands.

‘If I make way

I can taste your sigh.

Just like the cannibal amp

It knows sound is size.’

On your nightly walks, you would make your way down the stone pier that lead to the water, your footsteps echoing in the quiet. When you reached the end, you’d grasp the railing that kept people from tumbling over the cliff’s edge, gluing yourself to the present moment.

‘Push me to

The brink, I said

Well that bitch

Is a creep

It tried to know what I think.’

There, you’d gaze up at the tower, lost in thought—re-evaluating and wondering how differently your life might have unfolded if Jayce hadn’t betrayed you—-if he hadn’t stolen your idea and torn everything apart.

‘To breathe out passion

Or suck in fate

You think the world was made

To wield your weight

And bleed out?’

Tonight was no different. Here you were, hood drawn—- hands shoved deep in your pockets—-your bodice pulled tight as you hunched in quiet disdain, eyes locked on nothing but the ground that passed underfoot.

Your expression was sour as you traced every wrong turn your life had taken to bring you here. Your chest felt heavy, as if the weight of it all pressed itself down upon you out of sheer spite.

Your mind buzzed, a relentless whirl of painful memories spinning in a dizzying menagerie inside your skull.

When your eyes met the stark, hauntingly familiar edifice, a sharper pang stabbed deep beneath your chest, more intense than you were accustomed to by now.

You weren’t sure why, of all nights, tonight seemed to bring out the most intense surge of feelings—especially since you found yourself unusually consumed by your thoughts this time around.

Especially since, long before Jayce had perfected the Hexgate, the two of you would often come here to find solace in the sound of the waves and the crisp air of the sea. You’d toss stones into the water, or compete to see who could throw them the furthest. The bittersweet memory of how often Jayce would taunt you for your lack of coordination only deepened the pain and anger digging at you.

You couldn’t control the mindless, almost reflexive way your body reacted to such intense feelings, in combination with the familiarity of the location. Without a second thought, your hand reached for a nearby rock, and before you even registered what you were doing, you hurled it as hard as you could toward the tower.

The tower, distant and perched far out in the water, seemed almost unreachable, and your rock barely made it halfway before splashing down into the water with a sound that felt like it mocked you in the same way Jayce had. You almost felt compelled to throw another rock, driven by some irrational need to make the first one atone for mocking you—despite the fact that it, like all other rocks, had no sentience to answer for its actions.

You gave in to the irrational impulse, bending down to pick up another rock, your mind still fixated on the need to make the previous one pay. But as your fingers closed around the stone, something in the corner of your vision made you pause. A pair of shoes—familiar, yet unknown—caught your eye. Shoes that were attached to feet. Feet that led up to legs. Legs that belonged to the hips and torso of an individual you couldn’t see beyond your hood.

The rock slipped from your hand, forgotten, as your attention shifted entirely to the figure standing behind you. You hadn’t heard a single indicating noise that you had been followed, or approached from behind.

The presence was sudden, unnerving, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to be afraid. If you were anywhere else, anywhere but Piltover, you’d be terrified. But here, in this ”city of wonders”, you couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, you were still safe.

If anything, it was probably an enforcer, here to reprimand you for throwing rocks in the first place. You straightened up, brushing the thought aside, and turned to face whoever had been silently looming behind you.

As you spun around, you realized—this wasn’t an enforcer.

No, far from it.

The person standing there was more terrifying than any enforcer could ever be, and certainly more annoying, infuriating, and enraging to look upon, for lack of better words to describe the instant rush of wrath that overwhelmed you.

‘Am I the reason

That you can’t look past

Your future self?’

“Your aim is still pretty shit, sunshine.” He says plainly, the nickname he had always pegged you with burning in your ears.

Your blood ran cold as your eyes locked onto the disgustingly smug expression on his face. Every hair on your body stood on end, a shiver crawling up your spine as you stood face to face with the man you now regarded with nothing but utter disdain.

You freeze, unable to muster a response, your mind clouded with a storm of rage and contemptment.

Jayce’s gaze lingers on you, almost—dare you think it—in a way that seemed concerned, longing, and worst of all—-caring.

What a hypocrite. How dare he look at you like he actually cares?

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been stuck

And glued in frequent doubt.’

“Don’t give me that look,” you snap, your fingers twitching, aching to throw a rock at his face just to make him eat his words. For a split second, you actually consider it—and you’re sure Jayce can feel exactly what’s running through your mind as he observes the way your eyes flicker between his face, and the stone you had left behind.

“What look?” he asks, concern surging through his expression again.

Did this guy have a death wish, or was he really just that oblivious? Either way, you could crack instantaneously.

“That look. The fake concern,” you snap, your eyes dropping, fists tightening, teeth grinding.

“Fake…?” He pauses, clearly lost in thought as he crosses his arms over his chest, the hint of offense hanging off his words.

You fight the urge to lash out, to make him feel something stronger than pain.

‘I know the feeling

‘Cause I can’t keep

My mind open now.’

“Yes, fake, Jayce. As in insincere. Artificial,” you spit, taking a sharp breath.

“Ersatz,” you add, the word a bitter aftertaste.

Your words cut through the air with a venomous cadence, each syllable sharp and biting, a distasteful attempt to tear through him.

Jayce looked completely dumbfounded, as if his mind had been wiped clean. The stark look of gears no longer grinding in his brain was almost comical. He was daft, no doubt. You felt a twinge of pride prod your ego upon this realization.

You couldn’t bear to stay here, not this close to him, not after everything. The thought that he was only here to twist the knife deeper into your wounds was almost more than you could handle. Your emotions, raw and overwhelming, had already drained you, and you were done. You didn’t want to give him another moment—no chance for him to make things worse, or worse still, to somehow try and redeem himself. As if he ever could.

Steeling yourself, you gather what little dignity you have left and turn away, keeping your face carefully composed. As you pass him, you deliberately knock your shoulder against his, ricocheting his shoulders in the process, a silent and singular act of defiance as you walk away.

As if to intentionally make matters worse, Jayce turns after you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. He makes contact, swiftly pulling you back towards him.

“___, wait—” He begins, but his words are cut short as your hand slams into his cheek. You hadn’t necessarily meant to hit him, but the motion was as instinctive as throwing the rocks—your hand connecting with the flesh of his cheek before you even had a chance to stop it—not that you necessarily would have wanted to.

The way you had wound up the slap was only amplified by the sudden pull of his hand grabbing you mid-stride, forcing you back toward him. The momentum aided the force with which you struck him.

The weight of what you’d just done hit you all at once—grief, anger, relief, all crashing together. A small part of you, the part that still cared for him, was flooded with guilt. But the darker parts of you—those that hated him, that had longed to hurt him—felt a twisted satisfaction. Besides, it was his own fault that he had grabbed you.

You’d wanted to feel his skin beneath your hands, after all, and in an oddly perfect way, this had been the way to satiate that desire.

Jayce instantly released his grip on your wrist, his hand moving to cup the spot where your slap had left its mark.

“Ah…” he groaned, wincing as he cupped the stinging flesh. His eyes snapped shut, the pain unmistakably written all over his face.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away as he stood there, his hand pressed against the raw, reddened skin of his cheek, the mark of your slap still vivid and angry. The sight of it made your chest tighten, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was you were feeling. What should you feel in a moment like this? That was the question you could neither answer or shake.

You had already acknowledged, in a quiet corner of your mind, that there was a strange satisfaction in lashing out, even if it was tangled with the thorny weight of your own hurt. There was a cruel sort of release in it, one that both thrilled and disturbed you in equal measure. Your stomach churned as you fought to suppress the abhorrent feeling of shame that crept up on you.

You could feel your instincts urging you to escape—to run, to put distance between yourself and this raw, uncomfortable moment. But you chose not to listen. The urge to flee warred with something else, something deeper, a curiosity that had begun to take root. You wanted to see how this would unfold, to witness how this tension would resolve, if it would resolve at all. The satisfaction you had felt from that sharp, ringing slap was undeniable. Maybe it had been a way to expel some of the pain that had been building inside you for so long. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth confronting whatever came next, just to relieve yourself of that heaviness, even if only for a moment.

‘Make up your mind,

We’re running out of time.’

Your heart sunk as you saw the essence of betrayal soon sweep across his face. Yet, simultaneously, that added to the anger you felt. He, of all people, felt betrayal? After the way he betrayed you? That look of his repulsed you.

He looked at you, disbelief written all over his face, his expression a mixture of shock and hurt. His hand lingered on his cheek, still tender from the sting of your slap, as though he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the moment. The look he gave you was one of genuine confusion, as if he couldn’t fathom why you were so consumed by anger.

“___…” His voice cracked slightly, heavy with emotion, but still full of that familiar, passionate lilt, the kind that used to make your heart race. When he whispered your name—softly, almost reverently—it was as if the sound of it pained him.

‘Doubt is failure

By design.’

His eyes searched yours, full of questions that hung in the air, unanswered. Why had you struck him? Why this sudden violence? The pain in his gaze only seemed to stoke the fire inside you, making the anger flare even hotter, more reckless.

“Don’t look at me like that. Like you don’t know exactly what that was for,” you spat, each word sharp, each syllable dripping with a tang that tasted like metal on your tongue. But as the words left you, the anger morphed into something far more fragile, far more devastating. Your heart seemed to crack with the weight of it, the betrayal, the hopelessness. The tears welled up, blurring your vision as your chest tightened with sorrow.

“Why… why are you so blind to everything you’ve done?” you choked out.

“To everything we had… everything you destroyed… just so you could chase your fucking dreams?”

Your fists balled at your sides, the muscles in your arms trembling from the effort of keeping control, even though your voice shook with the strain of holding back the tidal wave of emotion threatening to break free.

‘I’m burning up

Can only take

So much.’

“What about my dreams, Jayce? What about our dreams?” you cried, your voice rising, your words feeling like they could burn everything in their path. Every inch of you ached—your body, your heart, your soul—all of it pulled taut like a string ready to snap. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep it in.

“What made sealing your own future—your destiny—more important than what we built together?” you demanded, the question sitting in the air between you like a dagger.

“Why was your ambition more sacred than our bond? More sacred than us?”

Your voice cracked on the last word, your breath coming in short, jagged gasps. The tears spilled over, leaving hot trails down your face, but you stood your ground, unwilling to back down. This—this pain, this heartbreak—was something you needed to admit, needed him to hear.

“How dare you steal my idea. How dare you take the credit, and disparage it with your stupid, fucking, magic.” You were shouting now, your voice ringing through the night air, raw and unfiltered, the weight of your anger shattering the silence that had settled over everything. The contrast between your fury and the stillness of the evening was jarring—your words felt like they were tearing through the quiet, reverberating off the walls of the world around you.

“Your idea?!” he exclaimed in response, his voice rising sharply, cutting through your tirade. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a few purposeful strides, his figure towering over you, his height and presence suddenly far more imposing than you remembered. His broad shoulders blocked the space between you, his stance firm, as if challenging you to face him head-on.

‘I know you

Can feel it

It’s catching up

It’s getting too heavy

For both of us.’

“Since when was it your idea?” His words were fast, biting with frustration, and he was unrelenting as he moved closer, his eyebrows knit together in upset.

“‘Cause the way I remember it—we both wanted change. We both wanted to make Piltover a better, more advanced city.” His voice was now an angry force, his face craning down to meet yours, his eyes sharp, trying to drill the point home. He wasn’t asking anymore—he was demanding you understand.

But what hit you most in that moment wasn’t just his words. It was the way his anger had suddenly shifted everything. For the first time in your life, you felt small compared to him. You had never seen him like this—not even annoyed, not in all the time you had spent together. Jayce had always been the steady one, the calm, the voice of reason. But now, his fury felt like a storm—intense, unpredictable, and completely foreign. The force of it left you unsettled, and taken aback, to say the least.

You didn’t know how to react to this. His anger was like a tidal wave, knocking the ground out from under you, and for the first time, you realized just how much power he had over you—how much he could command just by his sheer presence. The towering figure in front of you, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with emotion, made your chest tighten. You didn’t know what to do with this. His anger was new, and in some way, it was almost more frightening than anything you had ever faced.

‘We lie

Cold.’

You were baffled, not just by the words he was saying, but by the way he was saying them—like a person you didn’t recognize.

You parted your lips, ready to continue the tirade that had built up in your chest, but before you could get another word out, Jayce’s voice cut you off, raw and jagged. He didn’t give you a chance to speak, his frustration spilling over, each word more desperate than the last.

“You left me. Here. Alone.” His voice cracked, trembling under the weight of everything he, too, left unsaid, considering how you fled before he ever got a chance to explain himself. It wasn’t just anger in his tone anymore; it was pain. The kind that came from a place so deep you couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard you tried.

“I did what I thought was best for us.” He stepped closer, his voice rising in volume, matching the intensity of your own.

“I proved what I was trying to prove. For us. For our collective aspirations.” The words came faster now, fueled by the overwhelming rush of emotion that was beginning to boil over in him.

“I worked my ass off to make sure that, with the help of my Hextech, your trade routes could flourish,” he spat, his anger now matching yours, raw and unrelenting. His face was inches from yours, his breath hot as he glared down at you.

“I won’t stand here and let you blame me, let you hate me, for acting out of what I thought was selflessness at the time. I’ve gone to bat for you, countless times, to make sure you got the credit you deserved.”

His own fists clenched at his sides, the strain of his words almost too much to bear.

“But you ran. You left, assuming my only goal was to use you, when in reality, all I ever tried to do was support you.”

His words slammed into you like a physical blow, and for a second, you were paralyzed by the force of them. But then the anger surged again, hot and insistent. Support you? The bitterness twisted in your gut, and before you even thought about it, the words exploded from your mouth.

“Support me?!” You shouted, the sound ringing through the night like a bell, sharp and accusing.

“That’s what you call abandoning me to take a seat in the highest of towers?” You could feel the heat of your own fury rising to meet his, and without thinking, you shoved both hands into his chest, pushing him back with all the force you could muster.

Jayce stumbled backward, caught off guard by the sheer force of your anger, and you weren’t done. You shoved him again, harder this time, your hands pressing against his chest until he hit the railing behind him with a loud clang. The sound echoed in the air, but you didn’t care.

“In the council, no less?! Leaving me here to fend for myself in your fucking shadow?!” Your voice was hoarse now, each scream louder and more desperate than the last. You pushed him once more, as if trying to push the weight of everything you felt, everything you couldn’t hold onto anymore, into him.

The tears you’d held back were streaming freely down your face, but there was no stopping them now. The hurt, the betrayal—it all came pouring out in that single moment. The fury and heartbreak swirled together, a force you couldn’t control, and all you could do was scream at him until your voice gave out, until he understood just how much you had suffered because of his choices.

‘Dam up the river,

We can go, slow.’

Jayce had finally reached his limit. The shouting, the anger, the constant back and forth—it was all too much. He could see now that no matter what he said, nothing would make you stop. The argument had spiraled into something beyond reason, and every word he spoke only seemed to fuel your fire. You weren’t listening anymore; you were just lashing out, consumed by rage.

Enough was enough.

‘Dull down our senses,

Become numb.’

When you shoved him again, anger blinding you, Jayce reacted quickly. His patience had worn thin, and he wasn’t about to let this go any further.

The next time your hands came at him, he caught your wrists with a swift, forceful motion, crossing them tightly over each other. Before you could react, he shoved your arms into your chest, locking you in place. Then, without warning, he spun you around, pulling you harshly against him so that your back was pressed to his chest. His grip tightened, his arms like iron bands, preventing you from thrashing away.

‘Mirin myself

All by myself.’

“Stop.” His voice was low, sharp, and commanding, vibrating against your ear as his chest caged you in. You could feel the heat of his body, the raw tension in every inch of him as he held you close, his strength completely overpowering your attempts to break free.

“___, for fucks sake! Stop!” He demands, one of his enormous hands moving to take hold of both of your wrists while the other clamped down around your jaw, bringing your face towards your shoulder, where his own chin rested in this position.

Jayce had no choice. He knew how stubborn you were, how deeply you clung to your anger when you were hurt, and how you’d never stop until you’d worn yourself out—if you ever did. But right now, he couldn’t wait for that to happen. He couldn’t let you run away from him anymore.

With one sharp, decisive movement, his lips crashed into yours. It was hard, hungry, demanding—a complete storm of sensation that left no room for resistance. Your eyes went wide in shock, your breath hitching as you tried to pull back, but he followed, his mouth pressing harder against yours, refusing to let you break free.

‘Feel the caress, so sweet

Done by my hand.’

You gasped, the sound caught between your lips, and before you could protest, his kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, twisting with yours in a way that both startled and confused you. You cried out into his mouth, the noise muffled, as his hold on you tightened, his body pressing closer to yours, grounding you in place.

Every part of you wanted to push him away, to shout, to keep fighting, but Jayce’s kiss was relentless—an anchor pulling you deeper into silence. He wasn’t pulling back, not until you stopped fighting, until you let go of that anger long enough to breathe.

And though you still burned with fury, something about the way he held you, the way his presence swallowed you whole, made it harder and harder to keep struggling.

No matter how much you had longed for his touch, how desperately you had yearned for him to kiss you like this again, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept it in a moment like this. Not when everything inside you was still burning with anger and hurt.

‘Polishing this frame of mind,

Jacked it up an ax to grind.’

You fought against him, your body stiff and tense, desperately trying to pull away from his overwhelming presence. Each movement was a silent refusal, a stubborn resistance to the way his kiss was pulling at your very core.

‘Duck n’ dodge,

Stay unaligned.'

But it was futile. You were already drained, your energy spent from the crying, the shouting, the endless cycle of rage that had led you here. As his lips pressed more insistently against yours, the fight in you began to falter. The need to escape, the impulse to run, slowly began to dissolve with every second his lips lingered on yours, and his tongue explored the depths of your mouth. What remained was the sharp sting of your rage, but even that felt like it was starting to ebb.

Gradually, your body softened, the tension in your muscles melting away. The fight left you, piece by piece, until you sighed against his mouth, the sound muffled but unmistakable. With a subtle shift, your head tilted just enough to give him more room, more access, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to stop fighting. The kiss deepened, and in that quiet surrender, Jayce released a long, relieved breath, sensing your body finally easing into his touch.

‘My recognition face

Some get withered

Some get fried.’

You kissed him back after great hesitation, your lips and tongue moving urgently against his, as if you were trying to make up for every lost moment in a single, heated breath. There was no holding back now. The memories, the longing, everything that had been buried deep inside you erupted all at once, and your mouth moved hungrily against his, each movement a desperate attempt to relive the intimacy you’d once shared.

‘I know we talked about

The shit we did

Each time.’

His grip on your wrists faltered, weakening as you started to turn toward him fully. The distance between you closed rapidly, and soon, your chest was pressed flush against his, your body responding to his presence with an intensity you couldn’t control. As your hands were freed, they instinctively traveled up to his face, your thumb brushing over the spot where you’d struck him only minutes before, feeling the remnants of your anger there, now mingling with something else.

‘Polishing this frame of mind

Jacked it up an ax to grind.’

You cupped his face, fingers digging into his jaw, pulling him even closer as if trying to erase the distance between you, to melt into him and make up for the time and pain that had come before. The urgency in your movements was raw and frantic, a wordless plea to feel everything at once—to collapse the anger, the longing, and the need that had built up inside you into this single, desperate connection.

‘Duck n’ dodge

Stay unaligned

My recognition face.’

His hands roamed over your body, searching for any way to pull you closer, his touch growing more insistent as he settled them on your hips, pulling you into him. The physical closeness only heightened the tension, the desire, but also something darker—something that still lingered between you—lust.

Though you no longer felt the need to escape, your rage simmered just below the surface, burning deep in your chest. It wasn’t gone, not by a long shot. It still gnawed at you, demanding to be felt, demanding some kind of reckoning. Part of you wanted to make him feel it, make him understand the depth of your pain. You wanted him to know what you had been through all this time.

‘Am I the reason

That you can’t

Look past your future self?’

Your tongue retracted for a moment, and you pressed your teeth against his bottom lip, the bite sharp enough to sting. It was a flash of anger, mixed with the heat of desire, and it caught Jayce off guard. You had shared passionate moments before, but nothing quite like this—nothing that carried this much intensity. He flinched at the sudden sharpness, but in that moment, something in him sparked, that familiar fire of tension growing even stronger.

If that’s what it would take to break the tension, then he’d oblige.

Jayce’s hand tangled into your hair, pulling you closer, his grip tightening. The sensation of your hair in his hand, the pressure, sent a breathless sound escaping from you—something between a gasp and a soft exhale. It was involuntary, the sound mixing with the heat building between you. Jayce had always longed to hear that from you, to feel that connection, and now that it was happening, he couldn’t stop.

For far too long, Jayce had denied himself any form of physical connection. Since you left, he’d been forced to bury his desire for you deep inside, locking it away with a painful awareness that nothing—no touch, no embrace—could compare to what he had shared with you. Each passing day, he became more acutely aware of the emptiness that lingered, knowing that any contact with anyone else would only serve as a stark reminder of the craving that burned for you.

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been stuck

And glued in frequent doubt.’

He tightened his grip, drawing another soft sound from you, the mix of pleasure and tension in the air thickening. His focus was solely on you now, on the way your body responded, on the sounds you made, and how this moment—this raw, unguarded moment—was pulling both of you closer to the unspoken lust that couldn’t be denied a moment longer.

You can’t help but let out a filthy little moan, whimpering along with it.

A shameless, guttural moan, that sent Jayce’s head into a spiral. He had been beyond desperate to coax those kinds of noises out of you for what felt like too long of an eternity. He was in no position to deny himself the opportunity to keep drawing them out of you.

His hands curled into a fist as he yanked on your hair, whimpers flying out of you like a flock of birds.

If you wanted to fight dirty, Jayce was game.

“Fuck..” He breathes out—eager, like a starved man who stumbled upon a banquet— as he pulls away from your lips, immediately pressing them against the skin of your neck he had exposed from his grip on your locks. He let his teeth drag along the skin, biting and harshly sucking on it in several places. Your reaction was deathly arousing. The slightly pained cries that flowed beside ones of pleasure sent Jayce’s burning temptation into orbit.

He knew you needed him in the way he had once gotten used to providing for you. His cock throbbed beneath his slacks, desperate to break free from the confines of the cloth that kept it contained.

It was arguably harder than it had ever been, his anger and inability to have you for so long adding fuel to the fire of his pure incessant need to bury himself deep inside you.

‘I know the feeling

Cause I can’t keep

My mind open now.’

Oh, how you both longed to be connected like that again. In the way all lovers know well—their unspoken second nature.

He ruts his hips against yours, your own body responding instinctively by meeting them in their attempt to seek friction.

You both emit low grunts at the new sensation, satiating the tension for now.

You felt as though you were being scorched from within, the intense heat of your desire and simmering rage intertwining, each stoking the other in a relentless blaze. Every nerve burned with an insatiable hunger, a craving that went beyond pleasure, pulling you deeper into a whirlwind of both ecstasy and agony.

You needed more—not just the thrill of sensation, but the raw, cathartic pain that seemed to heighten the fire within you. Your soul ached for an outlet, something that would satisfy the chaotic tension, where your lust and frustration could collide, erupting into something that might finally ease the raging storm inside.

You snaked your arms around his neck, giving a small jump into him as you anchored onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He hums darkly in reaction to the sudden motion, his hands releasing their clasp on your hair to instead latch onto the bottom of your ass—-supporting you as you clung to him.

Jayce’s head shot up from it’s spot between your head and chest, moving to a new vantage point in order to scan the area. He was a man with a mission.

A mission to uncover the perfect place, somewhere secluded and unremarkable—a refuge hidden from the world where he could channel the fury between you with ruthless intensity. It had to be a spot where nothing could interrupt the raw, unfiltered release of tension—a place where every movement, every act, could be as drastic and unforgiving as the anger that surged through both of you.

Needless to say—and in an extremely simple turn of phrase—-He needed to fuck the rage out of you— and he would stop at nothing to do so.

After a few tense moments, Jayce focused, his eyes landing on the perfect hidden corner in all of Piltover. His grip tightened on you as he began to lead you toward it. The alleyway was small and shadowed, tucked between two shops that had long since closed for the night. The buildings on either side pressed in tightly, their walls forming a dark, narrow passage that swallowed any light. The darkness obscured it from street lamps and passersby, though Jayce hardly seemed at all concerned about the possibility of wandering eyes, anyway.

The alley itself was already tucked away from the main streets, but the particular spot his intentions were set on was even more concealed—through the alley and to the right, behind the buildings entirely, not just in between.

Overhanging eaves, garbage bins and scattered crates cloaked the area, creating a thick, impenetrable shadow. It was a secluded pocket, completely hidden from view, untouched by the faintest glimmer from the street beyond.

A perfect haven of obscurity, though the lack of any inviting scenery was hardly worth a second thought. The cracked cobblestones, the faint smell of damp earth, rotting trash, and the forgotten clutter of the alley seemed irrelevant. In a place like this, where shadows held sway, scenery had no claim. Nothing mattered but the raw, pressing heat of the moment.

You sank your teeth into his neck, your hands exploring his shoulders with a quiet, persistent need. He groaned beneath your bite, his un-abating lust taking the lead furthermore, as he harshly slammed your back against the abrasive stone walls of the building. His mouth was quick to covet yours once more, lips voraciously seeking stimulation from them.

Your sensual tango of lips pressing against each other, hips grating and rutting into each other’s carried out, Jayce beginning to make quick work of exposing you to the elements, his cock still hard as ever as it brushed against your clit beneath the layers of clothing. You can’t help but whimper out in response.

With the new advantage of pinning you to the stone wall—-combined with the leverage of your legs still around his waist—-his hands grew eager, rushing to tear your blouse apart. His fingers slid between the buttons of the opening, pushing through the seam before he gripped tight and wrenched it apart. Several buttons flew free, briefly distracting from the sharp bite of the cold air against the newly exposed skin.

You couldn’t help but whine into the cavern of his mouth, the rough display of lust redirecting all of your aching and longing straight to your clit. It throbbed with intent, a desperate reminder that you needed more friction. You greedily rolled your hips into his, yielding another low, filthy grunt from Jayce.

“Fuck.” He pants against your mouth, hands kneading at your breasts, cock twitching beneath his trousers.

Oh, how he longed to revisit the memories of your past encounters, to re-enact the acts of pleasure he had learned to bring you. But in such a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to slow down. As much as he yearned to please you in the ways he’d spent so much time discovering, there was no time, now. The urgency of the present situation demanded everything from him. If he didn’t bury his cock deep within you, right now, and fuck you senseless, he’d probably keel over.

This was his last chance. His only chance to rewrite your history.

‘Am I the reason,

That you can’t look past,

Your future self?’

Without a second’s hesitation, Jayce tore your legs from his waist, practically dropping you to the ground. In one swift motion, he flipped you around, pressing your cheek forcefully into the cold stone wall with one hand. You groan out, the harsh force of his motions prodding your deep-seated anger once more. His chin reclaims its resting point on your shoulder, teeth claiming your earlobe between them as he pressed his mouth to your ear. You groan out of sudden distaste for the new position.

”Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.” He growls into it, the words viscerally stabbing at your clit, earning a thirsty cry from you.

He spread your legs with his feet, his free hand clambering to release his throbbing cock from it’s fabric prison. He yanked your pants down, the sound of his belt clinking sending shivers up your spine as your cunt pulsated in anticipation.

You were beyond wet—the word a dull description of the way your cunt was absolutely sopping, dripping, and practically gushing for him.

Despite your evident arousal, you weren’t used to things happening so fast. You began to protest as your back arched against his brawny, bold, and burly chest.

“Jayce— wait!” You started to say, before his teeth clamped down onto your earlobe with increased vigor, your words fading into torrid moans as a result.

He pulls your underwear to the side, fist pumping his deprived cock before he lined himself up with your soaking cunt.

“Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.” He barked.

Before you even had a chance to breathe, he plowed into you, curling his hips up to press flush against your ass. You had no choice but to brace yourself. Your hands flew to the cold stone wall, gripping tightly to keep from collapsing under the force of it all.

The sound that tore from deep within your chest was raw, loud enough to make anyone within a hundred feet of the building take concerned notice. Anyone outside of you and Jayce would have assumed you were being murdered.

It was a deliciously vile sound, thick with want, neediness, desperation, and all the emotions you had yet resolved.

“Fuck!” You scream, tears stinging in your eyes as Jayce began slamming up into you with at an absolutely merciless pace. He wasted no time by giving you a single moment to adjust, knowing full well the rough nature was exactly what the situation called for. If he didn’t give this his all, everything was at stake. Or so he thought.

His thrusts were, at their core, crude—filthy, vulgar.

Lascivious.

They had an animalistic quality, one that attested to his own desires, and the hurtful longing he had harbored for you.

Jayce grunted, huffing out as he ruthlessly snapped his hips against the flesh of your ass. He plunged his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, the hand that held your face against the stone withdrew from you. Jayce pulled it beneath your arm, wrapping around your chest to imperviously grip at your breast, using his hold on it to further aid in the force with which he was bucking into you.

His other hand moved to your neck, fingers tightening around it with a possessive grip. The pressure forced the air from your lungs, and you gasp, the sound barely escaping as your breath becomes shallow. You squirm, struggling to breathe, but his hold doesn’t loosen. Instead, it pulls you in deeper, mixing fury with hunger. Each ragged breath, each flicker of resistance only seems to make it worse, the heat between you both building in the space where anger and desire collide.

“Fuck you.” He spat out in sync with his thrusts.

“Fuck.” —thrust.

“You.” —thrust.

“For.” —thrust.

“Leaving.” Thrust, thrust, thrust.

The words he spat out were coated in intent, each one seething with the same anger that simmered inside of him. The way he moved, pounding into you, was frantic, his hips driven by a fire that seemed to consume him.

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been

Stuck and glued

In frequent doubt.’

You could feel it, the heat coursing through his veins with every thrust—his body shaking with the intensity of it. There was nothing controlled about the way he gripped you, no tenderness. Just a reckless, furious need, each movement angry, as if he were fighting to push the rage out of his body and into you.

His soul had been set ablaze, and all you could do was feel the burn.

“Agh—“ You pant, air still desperate to escape your lungs as he clenched your throat.

“F-fuck you for—-Pretending like—-you care.” You choke out.

Jayce’s blood boils, his grip on your throat tightening beyond the point of care.

“Pretending like I care?” He pants as well, exhausting himself from the force with which he was railing his cock up into you.

“I care. More than—anyone—sunshine.” He very well shouts, words still in sync with his thrusts, on exhaling with each. He was absolutely plowing you now, the familiar nickname cutting through the air that surrounded you.

You were groaning out in pleasure and pain, the contrasting feelings mixing into one as he continued his relentless assault on your cervix.

“T-Then why—-why couldn’t you just—-“ Your lungs begged for air.

“Love me—-like I love—- you?” You gasp, your voice barely audible above the hunger for air.

‘I know the feeling

Cause I can’t

Keep my mind

Open now.’

Jayce’s movements stopped abruptly, his hands yanking away from you as if struck by a sudden realization. You gasped, breath catching painfully in your throat, stumbling back into the wall, your body desperate for air that was slow to come. The intensity that had fueled him moments before seemed to drain in an instant, leaving you gasping in the silence.

Jayce felt an overwhelming wave of guilt crash over him, sharp and suffocating, like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured straight over his head. It hit him all at once, a gut-punch of realization that mirrored the guilt he had seen on your face earlier when you slapped him—raw, unfiltered, and impossible to escape. His chest tightened, a heaviness settling in his stomach as he stood there, frozen, unable to look at you.

His hips stilled, his body rigid as the anger that had driven him to this point shifted, replaced by something softer—-sadder. His heart felt heavy in his chest, sinking like a stone in water.

All that was left in the alley was the erratic—-uneven sound of your breathing, each inhale a struggle, sweat slicking your skin, catching the light of the moon in fragile glimmers. The silence stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, the weight of what had just transpired hanging between you like a shroud, heavy and unresolved.

His mind was a blur, thoughts scattered and jumbled, short-circuiting in a way that left him dizzy. He couldn’t make sense of the guilt spiraling through him, the crushing weight of having crossed a line he hadn’t even seen until it was too late. Until you said what you had said.

That you loved him.

He removes his chest from your back, pulling himself out of you in the process.

Jayce reached for you, his hands trembling as he gently grasped your shoulders, his touch softer than it had been all night. His fingers barely brushed your skin, as if afraid to make contact after everything that had just happened. With a careful, almost reverent motion, he spun you around to face him. The moment your eyes met, his chest seemed to cave in on itself, a sickening weight settling there.

His heart felt like it had physically dropped, plummeting to the pit of his stomach with a sickening thud. The sight of you, tears streaking down your face, the raw anguish in your expression—it shattered him. Every ounce of anger, every moment of fury that had driven him earlier seemed like a distant memory in the face of the heartbreak he had caused.

How could he have been so reckless? The thought screamed in his mind, impossible to silence. The guilt that gripped him now was suffocating, crushing. He’d seen your pain in the heat of the moment, but now it hit him full force—really hit him. The tears in your eyes weren’t just a reminder of what he’d done; they were a reflection of how far he had pushed you, how little he had cared in the frenzy of his own anger.

And now, standing in front of you, he couldn’t undo it. All he could do was stare at the damage he had inflicted, helpless, terrified of what he’d become.

“___…” He whispers.

[tteokdoroki]

Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(

but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!

Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.

about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(

warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.

you’re pissed. 

over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you. 

he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then. 

you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.  

because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.  

“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him. 

for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need. 

you feel what satoru can’t. 

“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.” 

everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist. 

and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be. 

and he’s practically a god. 

“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re  fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped. 

once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you  — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below. 

leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.” 

in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.” 

that makes satoru falter. 

it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.

and humans don’t last as long as gods do. 

seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you. 

he is weak for you. 

his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start. 

“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”

you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him. 

it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes. 

he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips. 

exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry. 

“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.” 

“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”

“i said turn it back on, gojo.” 

“look at me, please.” 

“gojo.” 

“please.” 

your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.

“i love you.” 

if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live. 

but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore. 

you would much rather have him kill you instead. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[cloverapple]

hello!! just wanna say I've discovered your blog and it's been incredibly helpful. thank you so much for all the effort you put into your posts they're very insightful :)

my 'problem' so to speak is simply belief. any ways to get around that?

no matter how much I try to change perspective/mindset, reinforce positive beliefs and/or assume, I feel like I'm gaslighting myself :') and i simply find it hard to get rid of that/not let it consume me.

some eg of my thinking:

'shifting is real' -> no you're being delusional.

'it's possible for me' -> girl it'll never happen stop lying to urself.

'i trust myself' -> ok but not with extreme things like shifting!! you're being hopeful for nothing!

'i can shift, it's natural and inherent' -> stfu assumptions never do anything. it's not. you can't. you never will.

'i believe in and accept loa/shifting as real' -> right!! you are crazy. none of your assumptions came to fruition both good nor bad.

'im going to shift' -> liarrr you would've done so by now.

'not everyone would be lying, its real' -> you've fallen for cult tactics don't believe anyone.

'let go, don't put pressure on it's -> you've done this for years, nothing will change. you'll never shift.

...I don't need to go on. it's so exhausting. constant loops of it.

I hope you understand how exhausting it is and how strongly I want to overcome this 😭 I tell myself it's ok, this can't stop me but alas they continue and become overbearing so I end up ultimately succumbing into believing them. and every time I sit down and shift, I basically don't believe I will.

any advice? I'd be so so grateful for any help and thank you for your time <3

Stop ❌ crossing the bridge of despair and hop onto the carousel of reason 🎠

'shifting is real' -> no you're being delusional. -> "My doubts don’t erase reality. If I can question it, I can also prove it to myself. And I will."

'it's possible for me' -> girl it'll never happen stop lying to urself. -> "Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t. The possibility exists, and I am aligning with it."

'i trust myself' -> ok but not with extreme things like shifting!! you're being hopeful for nothing! -> "I’ve trusted myself in things I once thought were impossible before. Shifting is no different. I am capable, even if my doubts try to convince me otherwise."

'i can shift, it's natural and inherent' -> stfu assumptions never do anything. it's not. you can't. you never will. -> "Doubts are just old conditioning. My body and mind already know how to shift. I don’t have to force what’s already natural."

'i believe in and accept loa/shifting as real' -> right!! you are crazy. none of your assumptions came to fruition both good nor bad. -> "Skepticism is normal, but so is change. Just because I haven’t seen every result yet doesn’t mean my assumptions hold no power."

'im going to shift' -> liarrr you would've done so by now. -> "Progress isn’t measured by how fast it happens. I am shifting at my own pace."

'not everyone would be lying, its real' -> you've fallen for cult tactics don't believe anyone. -> "Reality shifting has existed for thousands of years across different cultures. If generations of people have explored states of consciousness, why would I be the exception? It’s real, and I am capable of experiencing it just like they did."

'let go, don't put pressure on it's -> you've done this for years, nothing will change. you'll never shift. -> "My past doesn’t dictate my future."

I know it’s repetitive to hear, but persist, persist, persist. Any time these thoughts pop up, say “not today satan” and immediately combat it with different affirmations. Do this until the natural occurence to these unavory assumptions you have about yourself are the positive ones.

★ They don’t even have to be the ones I came up with here. Find ones that your mind immediately absorbs and accepts easily.

[sshushayla]

im just a girl.

aurélien tchouaméni x fem!reader. Fluff. when you are just a girl and he is aurélien tchouaméni, things like this will happen.

It is your sixth week as Aurélien's PR assistant, and you sat down on your rolling chair turning yourself round and round in your small cabinet, thinking and reflecting on all those nights you worked your ass off for your resume, going to endless interviews, just trying to hold onto one strong point as your feet ached to run to your manager and throw your resignation letter.

Aurélien was almost insufferable, he was one step away from giving you a heart attack. Every time your phone pinged in high-pitch, your heart would beat faster on what kind of mess he had created for you to clean.

Not that he does much around but when he does, it is a war out there for you. His spectrum fascinates you, the range goes from simple thirst traps in his Instagram stories to disclosing his actual secret campaign he did with Calvin Klein.

Yet he kept yapping and opening his mouth about the campaign again after you cleaned up his mess in his Instagram live, you almost cried out blood as your manager invested their entire being on screaming at you when your manager could handle Aurélien.

You held onto the handle of the gym door, your lips tight with a smile. Mentally preparing for a brief talk about his unprofessionalism or a hideous murder that was about to take place; his or yours, time would tell. You swung the door open just for you to shut it, your whole back pressed against the door.

This guy is almost naked, with his shorts hanging onto his waist for dear life, and a towel around his neck to clean his dripping sweat. Now, you are annoyed with him yes, of course since it is your work; but you are just a girl. The image of his heavy breathing, his tight core, and his thick thighs were not to be blamed, and nor was it leaving your mind, it never leaves your mind.

Before you pulled yourself up, the door was yanked open for you to squeal as you almost tripped but a gentle hand held onto your waist catching you before you fell.

Your eyes wide open, falling straight to the man who had awoken your need to fuck a priest, or just, well anyone out there. The glistening swear still sliding down his forehead, the hot heat of his determination in the gym greeted you.

"Princess, I would never let you fall." Aurélien's voice filled with amusement. You pulled yourself away from his grip entering the gym without a word shared. You put your laptop and your name tag down on the desk neatly sitting on the spare chair in the gymroom.

"Thank you, but I would rather not call you a prince charming right now." You mumbled for him to hear as he grinned showing off his teeth. You shut your eyes with your head facing down, "You make me want to kill myself." You confessed, shaking your head continuously. He chuckled at your defeat.

Walking toward you, he pulled an extra chair that was next to you; turning around to straddle the chair, Aurélien leaned in closer to see your face. You glanced up to see him already staring at your lifeless face.

The silence was painful, it was not those playful silence where you would playfully glare at the man and ask him to clear up his shit, and he would playfully claim that you would do the job for him.

"It can not be that bad. What did I do?" He nervously chuckled this time, he shrugged his shoulder in confusion. Aurélien had not seen you this tired of his shit, or in a very long time. You sighed, reaching for your laptop as you searched for Twitter.

Whipping the laptop toward Aurélien, you cross your arms as you see his focused face which includes a soft pout formed with his thick lips in concentration and furrowed eyebrows coming together and it only took you a few seconds to think. To reach for his face, or to take the risk of leaning as forward as you possibly can.

Aurélien seems like a such a good k-

"Okay, so I fucked up." He nervously chuckled, again realizing he did fuck up pretty bad for you.

Back to business, business, business.

You snatched your laptop away from his grip to put on the table, turning your body away to find the anger in you, your mind only comprehending just how easily he could bend you over the table, or bend the table; you would not mind any show.

Back to business, business, business.

"This isn't the first time, Aurélien. I had to make you pull out that Andrew Garfield stunt he did for the last Spiderman movie just for you to fuck me over." You expressed your anger with your fingers forcefully pushing his chest. Aurélien sat in silence, hearing you complain and complain about his reputation with the brand; but your words inaudible for the man.

His eyes were very much consumed with the way your lips would touch at certain words, and how his fingers would feel against your tongue, your hot tongue rolling around his fingers like a lollipop.

"I do not even watch Spiderman." He whispered but you bored your eyes at him quickly catching his eyes on your lips. You glanced around the room, not uncomfortable but you just didn't know how much patience you had before you launched yourself at him fully.

"I was not even talking about that, Aurélien. The whole Calvin Klein campaign is a secret, you were not supposed to mention it again in your fucking Instagram." You stood up from the chair, throwing your hand up in frustration, not wanting to look at him for another minute; to keep the job.

The whole situation is absurd, you were fully clothed while he was almost naked. The situation would most likely look crazy for an outsider but this is the form of conversation you have with Aurélien at all times.

You with your full attire while Aurélien with his gym shorts.

"You know, I do not know what game we play with each other." He said, taking you back as you gasped at the closeness with his hot chest hitting your back. Turning around, your eyes leaned up to see Aurélien had his eyes fixated on you.

It was not those mischievous eyes he would give this time. It was hazy nor did he lean down to look at you, he kept his posture composed for you to force yourself to look up.

"This is the game where I tell you about your fuck ups." You mumbled, trying to push Aurélien away but it only invited him to cup your wrist. "Let go, Aurélien." You said firmly, your eyes nervously glancing at the door of the gym. It is a free space anyone would walk in at any given time.

He shook his head. You took a few steps back as it hit the gym mirror. It was a complete defeat from your side, all that self-control aching to be released.

"Do you remember what I asked you last time as well?" He softly asked, his hot breath hitting the shell of your ears, you flinched away.

Why do you act like you don't want me the way I want you?

You cleared your throat, trying to loosen away from his tight grip. "Because it is that simple, I do not want you." You smiled tightly.

Aurélien chuckled, his boyish grin on his face; he shook his head, denying your words. "Stop lying to me. I might be shit at reading the room about anything but you," He said with his same shit-eating grin, "You are too easy to read."

Sighing, you gave up; sliding down on the gym floor with your legs pressed against your chest and your wrist still strongly gripped by Aurélien. He arched down to match your eye level and with his hand, he separated your thighs to create a room for himself.

"What do you want me to do?" You asked, tilting your head to the side; asking Aurélien with your body wanting his heat against yours.

He cupped your cheeks, and with no words said, he leaned in. You slowly closed your eyes to finally feel him but his lips never reached yours, only to hear the same annoying chuckle that had been getting on your nerves today.

You glared at him, making a joke out of you. You tried to remove his hand away from your face. Aurélien cupped your cheeks harder, "Baby, I want you to want me like how badly I want you." He said, his hand lowering down to your shirt to feel your naked skin, his fingers drawing random patterns against your skin as he reached your bra strap unhooking the button.

"Can you do that for me?" He asked.

You nodded your head. Yes, yes you could.

[zxdnmw]

katsuki bakugou x emo or goth reader because why not — word count: 448..

I feel like in your guys first year he noticed you from your strong quirk, quietness, and respect. You respected Bakugou more than anyone else could. You always spoke in your nonchalant tone even if he started to yell at you. And you didn’t tease him nor point out his mistakes. You guys manage to actually become friends..?

As you guys continued to grow a relationship you guys started hanging out in each others dorms. Mostly yours cause he doesn’t like people in his personal space. — “You should totally let me do your makeup.” You nonchalantly say as you put individual press on nails on your nails. “Why would I-“ “You’d look hot as a emo boy.” Bakugou’s eyebrows furrow in annoyance. “I’d never be an emo. Not like you nor that bird for brains.” Your eyes widen. “Uh- Are you talking about Tokoyami?!” You start chuckling to yourself causing him to roll his eyes. “Come on, pleaseeee! Its just a bit of eye makeup and lipstick-“ “And thats when you stop talking.” You whine. You put down the nail glue and show off your hand to Katsuki. “You like them?” He stares at them for a few seconds. “No.” You laugh. “You know you do.” You gasp loudly making Bakugou jump a bit. Hes never heard you that loud before. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” “CAN I AT LEAST PAINT YOUR NAILS-“ “FUCK NO!”

…

“You look so hot Katsuki.” “Shut the hell up..” Bakugou has a paler face from the makeup. Exaggerated eyeliner. Black eyeshadow. And black lipstick on his upper lip matching his black nails. “Ok, picture time!” Bakugou grunts. “No!” “Please! I’ll keep it for close friends only on Instagram!” “No, I’m cleaning this off.” You grab his face and bring it to the side of yours. You flash a cheeky smile as Katsuki grabs your cheek just in time for a cute picture. “You dumbass!” He still has hold of your cheeks. “AH! These are too cute to be private!” You show Bakugou. He stares at it for a few moments. You tilt your head in concern as he STILL has hold of your face. “Katsu-“ “Send that to me.. and not to anyone else..” He lets go as he turns. Despite the makeup on his face you see a tint of pink on his cheeks. “Awwwww!” “SHUT UP!”

A few years later you both are in a happy relationship. You have a wall that you have pictures of you and his old UA days. The one you and Katsuki took that day is at the top. Because that was the moment Bakugou accepted the fact that you were his soulmate ❤︎︎

ajdgajkm i love him im definitely making a drawing out of this

[darkchocolatedimples]

the tortured poets department (sponsored by my procrastination)

excuse my essays for each song the lyrics are so interesting to me so there’s like actual analyzation for each one.

fortnight - dex

that lingering resentment disguised by surface level friendship is that not literally him and sophie come on. “run into you sometimes, ask about the weather” the awkwardness!! “your wife waters flowers, i want to kill her” he was the #1 fitz hater for multiple reasons after all (although i think he was over it by the time keefe became prominent)

the tortured poets department - sophie

this is so keefe from her perspective come on “you’re in self sabatoge mode, throwing spikes down the road, but i’ve seen this episode and still love the show” “i chose this cyclone with you” “sometimes i wonder if you’re gonna screw this up with me. but you told [biana] that you’d kill yourself if i ever leave. and i had said that to [dex] about you so i felt seen. everyone we know understands why we’re meant to be.” also let’s be so real keefes drawing journals + goodbye letters, he’s giving tortured poet

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - fitz

guys he’s just a silly little boy with anger issues, and he’s MY silly little boy with anger issues stop hating him 😞 “the voices in his head called the rain to end our days of wild” “he saw forever so he smashed it up” he may have fucked up but it happens!!

down bad - dex

CUZ FUCK IT HE WAS IN LOVE!!! also if i may present to you: “i might just die it would make no difference” in the context that outside of sophie saw no purpose to his own life. he saw himself just as he is presented in the books: as her best friend and nothing more. so in losing that (blaming himself and his own feelings for it) what was left of him? who was left? sophie was also his ONLY friend. not to mention in the context of the fact that when he WAS presumed dead nobody cared, they still cared more about sophie.

so long, london - keefe

no not bc of london actually but because “and you say i abandoned the ship but i was going down with it, my white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment” is actually a direct reference to keefitz’ friendship falling apart as fitz got angrier and keefe got more closed off. “you swore that you loved me but where were the clues?” “im just mad as hell cause i loved this place” me when everglen is no longer keefes safehaven. nor anyone’s for that matter bc its haunted by alvars betrayal and alden’s mind break and fitz’ anger.

but daddy i love him - biana

“i just learned these people only raise you to cage you” “i just learned these people try and save you…cause they hate you” “dutiful daughter all my plans were laid…growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.” i hate alden vacker. how do u manage to use and fuck up all ur kids by age 12 like wow. “i’ll tell you something about my good name: it’s mine alone to disgrace” she would 100% say this. she would also 100% say “im having his baby! no im not but you should see your faces.”

fresh out the slammer - keefe

sokeefe or keefitz take it as it comes. “in the shade of how he was feeling.” “as i said in my letters.” “my friends try, but i wouldn’t hear it…for just one glimpse of his smile” “swirled you into all of my poems” it’s so him it is truly.

florida!!! - keefe

THIS one’s about london! “well me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time! yes i’m haunted but im feeling just fine” ethan and eleanor wright who?? “your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in” candle shade/shores of solace type beat “i need to forget so take me to [london], i have some regrets i’ll bury them in [london]” “i don’t want to exist so take me to [london]” aw bae

guilty as sin? - dex

i don’t know how to explain but i just feel like this feeling of i shouldn’t be doing/feeling this the literal guilt and all these delusions and the sheer intensity of it all is just giving me dex. “this cage was once just fine, am i allowed to cry? i dream of cracking locks, throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks” “i keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault” this must be the way he loves if he thinks so little of himself and doesn’t let himself have good things. “i choose you and me religiously” because at the end of the day when he makes a decision or chooses something or someone he puts his all into it.

who’s afraid of little old me - sophie

“you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. you caged me then you called me crazy. i am what i am cuz you trained me.” all of it’s literally giving her growing into herself in stellarlune and making decisions on her own. SHE IS NOT A PAWN!!!

i can fix him (no really i can) - tam

idk its just giving him defending rayni with his life when everyone else including linh was like who tf is this girl.

loml - fitz

every sad pining song is fitz vacker to me. esp the refrences to the romance being dead but never buried... "still alive killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried...i'm your holy ghost" the way that sophie switched up on him in stellarlune (although i fully support her) didn't give him much time to recover. "are they second-hand embarrased that i can't get out of bed because something counterfiet's dead" give me heartbroken fitz!!! for once instead of angry fitz just give me tired, resigned fitz. "it was legendary, it was momentary, it was unecessary, should've let it stayed buried" is such a good summary of sophitz imo.

i can do it with a broken heart - linh

linh is so interesting to me as a parallel of fitz: meaning she, just like him, is always angry. however she masks it in smiles and kindness the way he never learned to, he just lashes out. this song feels like it’s talking about that mask: “i’m so depressed i act like it’s my birthday everyday” “i can read your mind ‘she’s having the time of her life’ …i can show you lies” “cause im miserable and nobody even knows” “i can hold my breath, i’ve been doing it since [i] left”

the smallest man who ever lived - keefe

it’s giving a letter to cassius/gisela/alvar. “and i don’t even want you back, i just want to know if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal. and i don’t miss what we had” “did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?” “in 50 years will all this be declassified and you’ll confess why you did it, and i’ll say ‘good riddance’” “i would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. and you deserve prison but you won’t get time” “in plain sight you hid, but you are what you did. and i’ll forget you but i’ll never forgive.”

the alchemy - sophie

“cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?” aw sokeefe.

clara bow - biana

BIANA BEING COMPARED TO HER BROTHERS AND ALL THE VACKERS BEFORE THEM "the crown is stained but you're the real queen" "beauty is a beast that roars, down on all fours, demanding more...its hell on earth to be heavenly" i love her.

the black dog - fitz

bring back petty fitz!! i think the young girl not knowing the starting line could parallel with keefe not being able to understand things about telepathy that really connected fitz and sophie. i also think we could shift the angle and make it about alvars betrayal and how it sparked his angry trauma response. “you said i needed a brave man, then proceeded to play him until i believed it too.” “now i want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes…even if i die screaming, and i hope you hear it.”

imgonnagetyouback - fitz

he is 100% this delusional. he's just like me. "you'll find that you were never not mine" "even if its handcuffed im leaving here with you." "told my friends i hate you but i love you just the same, pick your poison babe, i'm poison either way"

the albatross - keefe

“one bad seed kills the garden. one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen.” “the devil that you know looks now more like an angel. i’m the life you chose, and all this terrible danger.” HE IS THE ALBATROSS. i can’t wait for the movie i want edits of him to this. ACTUALLY I WANT A LOT OF THINGS maybe I’ll make a separate post about that.

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - keefe

you saw it coming. this song SCREAMS KEEFITZ. like- “you said some things that i can’t unabsorb…you needed me but you needed drugs more.” “changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules all to outrun my desertion of you.” “if you want to break my cold cold heart just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’” WHAT THE HECK DUDE IM SOBBING “back to the moment i crashed into you like so many wrecks do” that line solidified this as keefe’s pov for me. in conclusion. SOBBING.

how did it end - biana

i propose to you: not a relationship, but the vacker family falling apart and the way they became a huge subject of gossip in the lost cities. when alden’s mind broke, while fitz had turned to anger biana became depressed, and i think this song could relate to that as well. the whole part of “guess who we ran into at the shops” feels very much like conversations others would have about the vackers at the time and when alvar betrayed them. “soon they’ll go home to their [brothers], smug cause they know they can trust him.” and i think at the end of the day when all of it happened biana was just young and betrayed and lost, because she didn’t see it coming or understand why (who did?) “the deflation of our dreaming, leaving me bereft and reeling” “i can’t pretend like i understand, how did it end?”

so high school - biana

HER VIBES ALL THE WAY she’s so cute and lovely and i want this for her (and dex. specifically dex. not anyone else.)

i hate here - sophie

was leaning dex until “you see i was a debutant in another life but now i seem to be scared of going outside” but the whole idea of escapism applies to both of them. especially to sophie though when she lived with humans and was so alone because even her own family couldn’t understand her, and she canonically is a bookworm and probably found more comfort in those other lives than she ever could in her own. "I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind...i read about it in a book when I was a precious child" "ill get lost on purpose, this place made me feel worthless"

thanK you aIMee - tam

aimee 🤝🏽 the song parents. “everyone knows that my [sister] is a saintly woman. but she used to say she wished that you were dead.” “but when i count the scars there’s a moment of truth: that there wouldn’t be this if there hadn’t been you.” thank you song parents 🫶🏽

i look in people’s windows - fitz

i thought this song sounded so creepy till I actually listened to it and now the idea of like lowkey stalking someone just to see if they still care about you or have moved on is slightly making sense. "does it feel alright to not know me? i'm addicted to the if only." it's giving keefitz (when isn't it?)

the prophecy - dex

"let it once be me, who do i have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy?" THIS JUST REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF THE BEGINNING OF STELLARLUNE WHEN HES LITERALLY MOURNING WHAT HASN'T EVEN HAPPENED TO HIS BROTHER YET i need more dex being the oldest sibling and shouldering that burden. the love-hate relationship with his siblings while simultaneously trying to make their quality of life so much better than what he had. also "a lesser woman would've lost hope, a greater woman wouldn't beg" is so him. he is so that middle.

cassandra - tam

"so they killed cassandra first cuz she feared the worst...do you believe me now?" "you can mark my words, i said it first. in a mourning warning, no one heard." tam when keefe joined the neverseen fr

peter - keefe

pls tell me you saw this one coming. "are you still a mindreader? a natural scene stealer, I've heard great things [fitz], but life was always easier on you than it was on me." "promises, oceans deep, but never to keep" "forgive me [fitz], my lost fearless leader...from when we were just kids. is it something I did?" i think I'm just in a constant state of mourning their friendship.

the bolter - keefe

obvious reasons but also "i can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone but her own father." "hearts are hers for the breaking, there's escape in escaping." "she's got the best stories, you can be sure, as she was leaving, it feels like freedom."

robin - dex

had to do some research for this one but apparently its talking about preserving a child's innocence! for this reason it reminds me again of dex and his siblings because of the way he really wants to protect them from things that haven't happened yet (especially considering rex being talentless). "way to go tiger" definitely sounds like something he would say to them feeling all sentimental but then, knowing siblings, they'd probably grill him about why he's being nice 💀

the manuscript -

we know the drill by now, fitz gets all the breakup songs because they could be about sophie OR keefe. "afterwords, she only ate kid's cereal, and slept in her mother's bed" while the song is discussing reverting back to childhood habits in vulnerability, fitz's vulnerability made him angry (but it was still a big change from his regular self) "looking back might be the only way to move forward" I hope he does get to move on!!! im tired of the love triangle plot if we're not gonna focus on keefitz' friendship 😭

[xhanelia]

What i feel about you based on your main agent (bad edition)

I will write the requests but i am in my writerblock era so hoping this will cure it. Love u all <33

Brimstone

Please stop smoking our entrance when we are the attackers please i beg you.

You never speak nor listen. We all know your mic and the whole team is either muted or you are basically deaf.

I have never seen a child play him so you are old. I mean old old. Like a dad or smth

Chamber

The chamber nerfs are a delusion you suck either way

Stop spending your whole 800 credit to a pistol that you will forgot for the rest of the game.

"I was in my prime before chamber nerfs guyss!!🤓🤓" Yea yea we get it.

Chyper

Can you stop saying "I kNoW eXAcLY wHErE U ArE" for five seconds?

You cannot aim so you place a setup that is unbreakable to attackers and letting your traps do all the work for you. How smart. (Thats me)

Cannot do shit when the last one left. You get one or two kills with your trap and u die middle of the round.

Deadlock

Stop placing sensors to our back, trying to hold the backsite but enemy can slow walk and bypass you u know? Then you be raging "I PuT a SeNSoR ThErE"

Istg if i get tangled down by your c one more time im gonna ragequit.

Your ult never gets anyone yet there is the whole five of the enemy team.

Fade

Your prowler shows no one, girl. Stop throwing it at the start of the round.

Stop trying to control your c you are losing so much time and its gonna get no one.

Ult when your team is near PLEASE. Its no effective if you are by yourself and scream "FACE YOUR FEAR" bcs you are the one that will be facing it.

Iso

No one mains iso.

Stop smurfing. Its no fun.

Go back to your own league. You coward.

Jett

You are a little child screaming into mic bcs you dashed forward to enemy and died.

Stop sitting onto the keyboard and actually aim maybe you'll get a kill.

Play with the team once. (I hate you with my whole heart)

Kay/o

You either never use your flashes or you blind just your teammates.

Your ult doesnt makes you undying you know? Stop running towards to the enemy like its new paradise.

The most avarage player. Middle fragging the whole game.

Killjoy

Just gives the info, maybe gets one or two kills because of the stupid dasher enemy jett and dies.

That turret be doing no damage if its on your team but be dealing 50+ if its on the enemy team.

Dont just sit there and wait FUCKING ROTATEEEE

Omen (my main)

Stop using c and teleport mid fight. Its no chamber tp or yoru tp. It takes time to teleport and takes time to handle the gun. You are going to die.

That blind hit no one. Stop being delusional and do not push. You are going to die.

If you do not know how to put a smoke when you close the 'astra' mode, do not. Place it slowly if requires. And again, if you dont do it fast enough, you are going to die.

Phoenix

STOP TROLLING YOUR TEAMMATES WITH YOUR MOLLY AND WALL ISTG I HATE YOU

That flash will hit you. It doesnt matter if the phoenix is on the enemy team or on your team. Or worse, both.

You are not that bad, you just need some humanity.

Sage

I hate you if you are an egirl that instalocks sage just to be a pocket sage to your eboy that plays reyna like reyna cannot heal herself. Stop. Also stop talking. Your voice irritates me.

Her voicelines are so unnecessary. Especially the ones at the start of the round.

We all know you are on top of your wall that closes mid. Dont peak. Also, stop throwing slows to OUR entrance.

Sova

Nobody is going to do anything about your arrow that you throw at the start of the round and showed three or four people. The team will still push. Stop trying to learn freaky arrows and waste your time.

Shock dart kill? What is that?

This agent is not friendly for beginners. Stop making your friends that just started the game play sova. They will show no information for you. Even being a pocket sage is better than a new-starter sova.

Viper

Its ok if you do not have linups. But if you do, then we all know that you havent touch the grass for a looong time and you probably smell like her ult. Please shower.

She be no mommy to you. She is kind of woman that rejects chamber, what made you think that she will even let you look at her way?

"Last player standing"

Yoru

Like kay/o. That flash is here only to blind you. Not the enemy.

Taking the spike and going to another site, saying you'll be back to us then will die and make it drop at the farest site possible. Either stop taking the spike or dont do this shit.

You either bottom frag or top frag. There is no in between. And you are probably 12-13 years old.

Astra

I have never seen someone mains, even plays astra.

So i have nothing to say. Im so sorry :(

Your smokes looks pretty tho. Keep it up!

Breach

You are a man that cannot stand woman. If a woman says anything bad about you, you will blind them, hit them with all of your abilities and do whatever it takes to make them unable to play the game. (Totaly not single-handed experience)

I hate your abilities. Very much.

I do not have any good experience about someone that plays this agent. Not a single one. I will dodge the game if someone picks breach no joke.

Gekko

Your molly is useless. I have seen once maybe twice that it kills somebody.

You have so much potential with wingman when you are the last one standing but wingman is the last thing that comes to your mind. Use it.

Why tf that trash is pickable and usable more than once??? Why?? (You are a nice person tho. Cannot move on without saying it.)

Harbor

Players that plays harbor are no joking. They are not here to learn the agent. They MAIN main him. But that doesnt makes a difference because this agent is close to useless.

Tbh he could have been my main if his abilities were a bit more versatile. Its just smoke and smoke. All about closing the sight of enemy. So fucking boring.

I bet if harbor was a girl, there will be so much people that would play him. Either way, he is boring.

Neon

Stop running and jumping around like an autistic.

You will never be able to nail those neon edits that you saw on tiktok. You look like an idiot while running towards enemy and dying first.

I hate her ult.

Raze

You are a child. A problematic one indeed.

Probably siblings with jett mains.

I bet even i could do better satcheling than you. (i have never played raze)

Reyna

I have no words.

Stop instalocking her. You are no useful.

Either top frag and smurf or bottom frag because your friends said that she is strong and you should play her. (0/11 powerspike. Yasuo of valorant.)

Skye

Just like kay/o and yoru. But that flash will hit the whole 10 that plays the game.

PLEASE HEAL I BEG YOU YOU HAVE HEAL PLEASE PRESS C PLEASEEEEEEE

Deserved nerfs tbh.

[valeriianz]

Me: says im 100% not going to write anymore of The Proposal AU. Also me: "but what if--" tagging @valiantstarlights, my partner in crime for this AU lmao

this is part 4, aka the engagement story. part three, two and one, if anyone is keeping track (its not in any actual order, we run on vibes only in this house).

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

“Stop taking my hand!”

Dream slips his hand out of Hob’s with a pointed glare (and only a brief reflection of the instant warmth that shot up his arm from the touch). Hob, for his part, sighs with a barely contained eye roll.

“Sorry.” At least Hob sounds sincere, leaning in to speak quietly in Dream’s ear in the crowded room. “Force of habit, I guess. But you know…” He brushes his knuckles under the line of Dream’s jaw. “We are supposed to be engaged. Holding your hand is not the worst thing I could do to you.”

Dream’s skin prickles. “Is that a threat?”

Hob sighs again, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s a tease. I’m teasing you.” He bumps his shoulder to Dream’s. “Lighten up. Have a drink.”

Perhaps Dream could do with a drink, especially if he’s actually thinking about what other debauchery Hob could get up to, outside of the limits of hand holding.

Snagging a beer out of the fridge, and forcing himself to smile as an aunt or grandma or someone comes up to him and starts asking him how he and Hob met. 

They had developed this, on the flight here, to Hob’s surprisingly luxurious childhood home. The story wasn’t much of an exaggeration of the truth– they indeed worked together but had hidden feelings for each other and after years of dancing around each other, they finally realized they were crazy for one another. 

It was easy enough to sell… perhaps not to the siblings who would loudly announce to Hob, “This is the same Dream who you bitched about on the phone? The one who didn’t let you come home for Thanksgiving last year? Who makes you go on coffee runs and harass writers?”

And Hob would shrug while Dream’s plastered on smile would sharpen to something deadly as he looked sideways at Hob. 

“Ah, what can I say? I like a man who knows what he wants.”

It would appease his family, for now. Dream had a moment of realization himself. 

He wasn’t aware Hob had such a large, welcoming family. His mother had immediately hugged Dream, smiling ear-to-ear, and Grandma Johanna had taken his hand and expressed to him how elated she was to finally see Hob settling down with “someone so handsome.” And now, at the welcome home party, everyone wanted a piece of Dream. To interrogate him or just meet him; meet the man who would make Hob honest. Who was now part of the family.

Dream had swallowed thickly. He wasn’t used to all the attention. Nor the care and playfulness of Hob’s family all around him. It was making him emotional and he didn’t know how much longer he could hover, an imposter among Hob’s fortunate family, with parents and siblings and aunts, uncles, and grandmother who all loved him and genuinely were excited that he was home for the holidays.

They all had no idea that it was all fake. Dream was a fraud. Hob and his relationship was purely transactional. The reality of Dream’s impulsive decision was finally crashing down around his ears and the room started to spin.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dream startled at Hob’s touch, no matter how gentle it was, on his shoulder.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” Dream bit out, blinking away the stinging in his eyes and going for a sip of his beer and scowling as he found it empty.

Hob’s hand, palm open, slid down Dream’s shoulders to his back, rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

“You look a little green.”

Dream huffed and tried not to relax into Hob’s soothing caress.

“This is all a little much,” Dream spoke honestly. “You didn’t tell me you had such a massive family.” Who love and are proud of you and are so quick to welcome me. So happy and eager to congratulate us and–

“Well, you never asked.” Hob replies simply, his hand dropping. Dream misses it immediately.

“Hey love birds!” Jo, Hob’s sister, pops up in their quiet space with a drink in her hands.

Dream tries not to jump at Jo’s sudden appearance, or bristle as she takes Dream’s left hand without permission to stare at the fake ring Hob and him had bought in the airport, realizing too late that they needed some kind of proof to their engagement.

Dream hoped Jo wasn’t some kind of jewelry appraisal. The silver band was simple, with a glass diamond inlay. Hob had a matching one. It cost them $30 each.

“I love the rings!” Jo gushed, thankfully dropping Dream’s hand before he could yank it back rudely. “Oh! You gotta tell us– who proposed to who?”

Dream can see the panic that crosses Hob’s eyes, which only grows larger with a nervous laugh as the family around them picks up on what Jo said and now everyone is interested in hearing the story.

Dream feels his heartbeat in his throat. They hadn’t discussed this. Hob and him had exchanged hobbies and interests and food preferences and allergies (Dream utterly bewildered at how much Hob already knew about him) but had somehow forgotten to build an engagement story.

“Oh, it’s not that interesting,” Hob laughs, an edge of hysteria to it. “Dream, honey, you were just mentioning that you wanted to rest–”

“Ah, c’mon!” Grandma Johanna prods, wiggling in her seat on the couch. “We’re all dying to hear it.”

“Yes, Hob.” Dream speaks with his own mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’d love to hear it from your perspective.”

Hob stares at Dream, utterly bewildered and then– Dream swallows nervously– his lips curl. 

“Aw well, if my sweet Dream insists…” Hob takes up Dream’s left hand and kisses the top of it while maintaining eye contact and Dream’s pulse stutters.

“You’d never know it,” Hob starts, addressing the room, which the whole family has now congregated in. “But underneath this hard, prickly exterior–” he gestures with a wide sweep to Dream. “Is a big ‘ol softie.”

A round of tittering surrounds them. Dream stares at Hob, eyes widening as he suddenly realizes his mistake of giving Hob the reins. Putting him on the spot.

“He took me to the local carnival…”

Dream hates carnivals. The rides are rickety and dangerous and full of rowdy teenagers.

“... where I won him the biggest pink teddy bear in the darts game, after he begged me for it…” Hob turns to wiggle his nose in Dream’s face.

Dream feels his cheeks warm and jaw drop. He hates the color pink and would never beg for anything, let alone a stuffed animal–

Some family members are now studiously looking at Dream, seeing him in a new light, no doubt. And Dream nearly shakes with the indignity of it all. He doesn’t even know these people, but he will be staying with them for the next week and he absolutely will not lose face over Hob’s overactive imagination.

“And finally,” Hob grins at Dream, clearly having the time of his life putting his boss on the spot and Dream can only stand and wait for the punchline.

“We go on the ferris wheel– the sun is setting– all planned, I’m sure. And then–”

“And you kissed me,” Dream interrupts, causing all eyes to refocus on him. Dream swallows at the bewildered look on Hob’s face. “It was very romantic.”

He turns to address the room himself, feeling ridiculous but barling onward, leaning sideways onto Hob in a way, he hopes, is besotted. 

“We walked off the ferris wheel to a group of carnies that Hob had hired, a quartet, to meet us and they sang ‘Cherish’ acapella.”

Hob’s brows shoot up into his hairline, stunned silent. 

“The Madonna song?” Somebody asks, Dream thinks it’s Hob’s cousin, Fancis.

“The Association,” Dream spares them a glance and a vague gesture with his wrist. “It’s an oldie.”

Grandma Johanna puts her hand on her chest and makes a sound like, “t’aw.”

“And then,” Dream continues, delighted now to have the upper hand. “Hob joined them for the chorus.”

Jo and some of Hob’s cousins exclaim loudly, looking back to Hob, who is running a hand through his hair with a wide, uncomfortable smile as more of his family join in on the slowly building sound of laughter. Dream smirks and tugs on Hob’s arm to get his attention. 

“You have a great voice, darling, don’t be embarrassed. I was very smitten.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” Hob says, his ears red. Dream would never admit it, but it’s a very cute look on him. 

“And when you asked me to marry you, of course I said yes.” Dream tapped Hob on the nose, who’s eyes narrowed murderously. Dream smiled with teeth, uncaring how sarcastic he appeared now.

“Oh you guys!” Hob’s mother exclaimed, her expression reflecting utter joy. Jo was whispering something to Hob’s brother and snickered between themselves. “That’s very unlike the Robert we all know,” she gives Hob a knowing look. “I suppose love makes you do strange things.”

“Strange, yeah. That’s one way to put it.” Hob is looking at Dream again, his eyes glinting with revenge, most likely. But Dream doesn’t mind. He’s just relieved they got this out of the way, along with the bonus of managing to embarrass Hob in front of his entire family. A win-win in Dream’s books.

the song Dream came up with... which Hob would definitely, absolutely, sing to Dream on any other occasion lol

[wannaeatramyeon]

im in desperate need of pouty and upset taehoon

I did have something a bit angstier in my drafts... but here's a fun little jealous Taehoon. Thanks for the ask!

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Sulking

How ironic now that Taehoon is standing on the other side.

After seeing Hobin bleating around Bomi like an idiot sheep, Gaeul flapping after Hobin, Snapper pining after Gaeul, and then Wangguk pussyfooting around Rumi... Taehoon sits green-eyed with a storm cloud hanging over him.

His sour mood invades the room like an unwanted smell and he snipes at anyone daring to walk past.

"Fuck you looking at?"

"Keep staring and I'll poke your eyes out"

"Move along unless you want your ass kicked"

"There's nothing wrong with me, piss off"

So yeah. The Hobin Yoo Company quickly learns to take a wide berth.

And the cause of his current surly, sullen state? (Taehoon knows this is his problem, which makes it all the worse.)

You mentioned an old classmate of yours inviting you out for drinks, which you agreed to. And of course you would agree to it, and why would Taehoon object? You're free to live your life how you want. You're free to meet up with old friends.

Usually Taehoon wouldn't have thought anything of it. He is neither controlling nor possessive, so go - go have your fun.

But then the more you mentioned this guy, completely innocently, just filling in the blanks on your own, the more the jealousy started to unfurl.

Oh he's rich? That must be nice.

Works as a model part-time? Huh, maybe I should get into it.

Was your best friend? Good for you.

Had a crush on you? Wait, really?

Asked you out on a date before he moved away? Hold on...

And the finishing blow: made a name for himself in winning fighting tournaments over in fuck-knows-where? Ok, Taehoon isn't afraid to admit that that one really fucking stung.

Taehoon hears you noisily coming down the stairs, recognising the sound of your footsteps anywhere. He grumpily observes you readying yourself to go out to meet this loser.

"Come on then!" You throw Taehoon's green jacket at him. His hand shoots out to catch it before it hits him in the face.

"The hell you think you're doing?"

"Huh? Aren't you coming?" You stand in front of him with your hand on your hips. What is up with him today!

"Coming where?"

"To meet my friend with me?"

"I didn't know I was invited." And so what if Taehoon goes back to just sitting there with his arms folded tightly, his mouth shaped into a frown with his bottom lip poking out. This is not a sulk and that is not a pout, damnit.

"Oh..." you scratch your head in confusion. Had you really not mentioned anything? "Sorry if I forgot to say anything."

"You didn't." Taehoon glowers at you, but you can see the tightness in his body loosening.

Is this why he has been moping around all day? Is Taehoon jealous? Is that a pout? You work hard to keep the smile off your face.

"Duh, I've been talking a lot about you. They want to meet this famous Taehoon."

Wait a second - "They?"

"Yeah, my friend and his girlfriend are really excited to meet you!"

Girlfriend!? Fuck's sake. Taehoon holds himself back from facepalming.

Who knows what possessed him to not speak to you in the first place and to spiral instead. You probably did mention some of this while he was internally cursing this guy out. Taehoon files away this bit of unpleasant introspection for later.

Let's see what's so great about this asshole then. Taehoon's storm cloud starts to dissipate.

...Before leading to other points of displeasure. But now I have to be on my best behaviour for the next couple hours? I have to meet this nobody AND his girlfriend? Listen to them while they chat shit?! Ugh. The things I do for you.

Taehoon huffs as he throws on his jacket, "Let's go then, don't make me late," and takes your hand.

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Midnight Rain Ch. 2

(I am so sorry for the long delay, I've been going through so much shit in RL & my writing has taken a backseat to everything, but im working on it and hopefully NaNoWriMo kicks me back into doing what I love!! Enjoy Chapter 2 of Midnight Rain :P )

Rich Mans World Series | Man After Midnight Series | Chapter 1 | Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

“Did you have to be such a bitch about it?!” Sebastian yelled as he rushed after Brooke who turned and slapped him. “You don't have the room nor the worth to stand there and call anyone a bitch when you didn't even have the balls to fucking tell him about what happened!!” Brooke and Sebastian continued to yell at each other, Chris sat in the living room for a moment listening to them fight. He got up, walking up the stairs and moved past them down the hallway as they fought before stopping at your door. 

You were lying in bed, facing the window when you heard the door open; You glanced over your shoulder to see Chris standing there. You shot up as you heard Brooke yell, “What are you doing?!” Chris shut the door behind him and locked it. He walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, looking down at the ground he didn’t dare bring a hand to touch you, or even face you. The silence felt like a weighted blanket draped over the two of you, holding you down in the shadows of a deadly secret. 

“I was….saving our wedding photo….that’s how they caught me in our bedroom….when you left, I moved the only one I had from my office to our bedroom. I didn’t care if everything else got destroyed. I could buy new stuff all day long…but not that photo…” he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph of the two of you. He stared at it, the edges were burnt, and he smiled softly. “I love this photo…” he whispered. You were staring up at him, a doe eyed look, evident on your features. Chris was smirking at the camera, but he didn’t care how he looked, he only cared about how you looked in the photo. You were holding onto his arm, staring up at him. He fell in love with it the moment his mother had sent it from the photographers. 

“I always liked that photo….” you whispered softly as he turned his head toward you, however his eyes remained on the floor. “You could have called me…” he said as you looked at him. “I was in a sedated state for two weeks in the hospital...they didn’t know if I would make it…Brooke informed them we were separated, that's why they didn’t call you.” you said. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said looking at you, finally meeting your eyes. 

You looked at him, your eyes glistening with tears, “but I couldn’t protect our little girl…” you sniffled as he moved, engulfing you in his arms as you sobbed into his chest. “But you protected yourself…now we can go after the son of a bitch who did this to our baby.”  Chris whispered, rocking you gently as he rubbed your back, letting you sob into his chest. You clung to him for dear life, feeling nothing but warmth and safety in his arms. “You don’t blame me?” you whispered looking up at him, as he looked down at you, “No baby…you did nothing wrong, this wasn’t your fault at all.” he whispered kissing your forehead. 

You and Chris stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, until you’d both dozed off, Brooke and Sebastian had talked to Anthony, sharing what knowledge they all had about that night, which they’d learned what happened to you, and what happened to Chris seemed to happen on the same night. Anthony shared with them how Chris’s physical therapy was going and how he had been trying to figure out who came after him but they were coming up on a dead end. 

“I mean…it had to be the Irish right? Who else is at war with Chris that they would try to kill Y/N, and his child?” Brooke asked as she poured each of them a drink. “It's just…..the Irish extended an olive branch to Chris months ago…..well before this happened. Which was weird in the first place.” Anthony said sipping the bourbon Brooke had poured. 

Brooke glanced at Seb as she downed the contents of her own glass, causing both men to look at her. “Well that’s great I think but it still leaves the question of who is responsible for this?” She asked as Anthony shook his head; “I don't know…but we need to find out.” 

When you woke up, Chris was snoring softly next to you. You hadn’t slept as well as you did that night, since you’d left Chris months ago. You watched him sleep for a little bit before rolling over and staring at the ceiling. You wondered what life would have been like, a little girl with him, would he have spoiled her? Would he’ve gotten up and done the late night feedings and changings? Would he have spent more time at home with you and her instead of out at the clubs? Yes. he would have been the most perfect father to the children you could of had together. A voice called in the back of your mind. You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, wishing you could go back, beg Brooke to not leave that night. 

“You look so beautiful in the mornings.” Chris whispered softly; you opened your eyes, seeing him watching you, as he smiled softly. You felt your lips pull back just a little, smiling for the first time in months. You both laid there, arms and legs tangled together, you both laid in silence for a while before a soft knock on the door alerted you both that you weren’t alone. “Y/N…I’m going to run to the store…Anthony is here for Chris so I’ll make sure Sebastian stays behind in case you need anything.” 

“Why don’t I come to the story with you today?” you asked as you got up, Brooke was silent for a moment, “Are you sure? You haven’t left the house since you got home from the hospital.” Brooke pointed out. You walked over, opening the door so she could come in and nodded at her. “Yeah, I feel like I should go with you.” you said, giving her a shrug. “Gotta face the world sometime right?”

Chris sat up, “If you’re not up for it Y/N, don’t push yourself.” But you looked back at him and gave him a small tight smile, “It’ll be good for me, don't worry,” you changed into a pair of jeans, pairing it with a black shirt and tan sweater. You grabbed your purse and walked downstairs with Chris after he’d gotten dressed as well, smiling a little at Bucky and Brooke before looking at Chris, “Um…how about I call you later? We can talk and see how everything is going,” you said, shoving your hands in your pockets. 

Chris looked taken back before he nodded, “Right, yeah, I’ll talk to you later and check in with you.” He grabbed his jacket before he looked at Sebastian, “When you get some time, let’s talk about a few things.” he shook his hand before walking out with Anthony. 

You left with Brooke, going to the store for the first time since you were pregnant. You noticed how things looked different and the same, you carried on with light talking while you two drove on; and once at the store, you helped her grab a few different things. “Why don’t we get some snacks and have a movie night tonight?” Brooke asked as you smiled and nodded, “I’d really like that. I’ll go grab some chips, salsa, candy, and some stuff to make that dip your mom taught you to make!” you grinned as she did too, “yes!! Okay! I’m gonna go grab ice cream, toppings, and whatever else sounds good!” she took off toward the frozen section while you went to grab a basket and grab your list. This was the first time anything really had sounded good to you in a long time. 

As you shopped you reached for a bag of chips, when another hand reached for the same bag. You looked over, withdrawing your hand and apologizing when the gentleman in front of you chuckled and handed you the bag. “I’m sorry, here, front bags are always fresher,” he said smiling at you.  You were frozen like a deer in headlights, he was handsome, and a dazzling smile to match. “Oh, uh,” you let out a soft giggle, “Thank you, but go ahead, I can get a different bag.” you said looking up at him as he grinned at you, placing the bag down in your basket. “Don’t worry about it sunshine. I don’t mind.” he winked before turning to grab a bag himself. He was tall, with short, soft, blondish-brown hair, bright blue eyes and a dashing bright smile. “Well thank you sir,” you felt yourself blush as you stared at him, he was captivating as he stood tall and smiled down at you, “I’m Steve…Steve Rogers,” he held his hand out to you.

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[k-tarotz]

how come theres so few stories of people having dated an idol? i can ask through reading what itd be like with xyz idol but id have thought by now that more people who have actually dated an idol wouldve given their experiences on it or is there too much backlash if they do speak about it? i know ndas are to protect the idol but how long do they last and dont they have to renew an nda even after they stop dating or hooking up? im sure some idols have broken a few hearts along the way so yeah im surprised that there arent legimate stories of someones experience with an idol. considering how much fake rumors there are about them.

Hey anon, I wanted to answer sooner but tumblr was down for me. It’s always down at the most unfortunate times indeed.. I had to rewrite this twice bc they can’t update it properly 🙄 Anywaysss…

I am pretty sure that the biggest reason we don’t see a lot more people coming forward with dating k-pop idols is quite literally because it’s their private life.

As in, both the idol’s and the person’s private life. They quite literally do not owe us anything, not a story time nor a hint. [Although I would like to say I find it quite annoying when people do story times about an idol without mentioning the name because you can always tell they are lying.]

It’s not that idols don’t date non idols, they do, some also have quite a preference for it even. I am sure idols date people like youtubers, make up artists, office workers, baristas and so on because at the end of the day they are human too. It’s not that idols don’t date idols, but it’s just that there have been several cases of idols dating non idols with regular jobs like you and I. It’s just their private life.

I do remember someone younger than I, a rookie idol, being “caught” dating a classmate by a saesang (ew), GOT7’s JB dating a youtuber and I am pretty sure Taecyeon from 2PM has a non celebrity partner who he is protective over: so we do not know anything about the person really, but their relationship is quite serious I assume.

To be frank with you, I don’t know how NDAs work, my assumption is after the first one expires and you are still in contact with one another you have to sign another one.

Regardless I don’t think that’s the only thing holding people back from telling whether or not they have dated an idol.

Firstly, come to think of it, who would believe you if you owned up to dating one? Let alone if the person is popular. Even if you have proof it can be faked easily, and delusional k-pop fans who feel entitled to their bias’ love sure as hell will accuse you, no matter if you genuinely tell the truth or not. The “fans” who view these idols as dolls, as objects to control and play along with sure as hell won’t give you the grace of treating you with respect. Treating you as if you were a human. So, knowing you will be treated like this, who the hell would want to own up to it unprovoked? And who knows, your ex might see it and find it embarrassing that you go around bragging that you dated them at once. That is humiliating enough on it’s own too.

Aside from that, we have to keep in mind that these people don’t just date idols to brag about it later on. At least, I assume most don’t. Otherwise they would be a piece of garbage.

Regardless, if an idol chose to date someone, anyone, regardless of their status, the person would need to be incredibly trustworthy. Even when they just hook up with people. They are not dumb, they can tell when you look at them as a human vs as someone you have a fantasy about rather than choosing to see them as their real self.

So with this in mind I am sure that when an idol x non idol starts to date it’s genuinely because they fell in love with each other not because they want to brag. At the end of the day, both sides are human. They date to be able to talk to the person, show them love and look after them. Not to break up 6 months later and gossip about the person. [Funfact, wealthy people are actually way more likely to do this to you unless they have manners.. and a lot don’t lol]

If they date an idol, that’s a whole different story though.

They both know to not publicise it without the both of them agreeing, how the industry works, know each others history better and actually have a lot more chances of seeing each other around. [If you see idols break up bc of not having time for each other they are lying 99% of the time.]

In my eyes it’s like dating someone from your school vs waiting to become an adult and meet someone who you can connect with on a mature level you know? It will either work out, or it won’t.

Either way I agree with what you said, I do think there are a lot of idols who have broken hearts along their idol career. It would be weird if there wouldn’t be.

Just like you can tell there are idols who are completely pure. Never dated and inexperienced due to whatever belief or experience they have. I think it’s funny when people say there are none because they are grown but at the end of the day some could choose to be protective over their body. That’s completely okay too! People act like it’s a shame when it’s not. In my experience though, there are a lot more hos in the idol industry than you would think 🤧🤧🤧 [I am not sorry for saying this, some of these people are NASTY]

To put it short, a lot of idols date and we don’t know about it because quite honestly it is none of our business.

Hope I didn’t come off as cold or anything y’all, this is just the way I speak fr.

– Candy

[cogentsummoner]

Omg I absolutely love the little drabble you wrote! I’d love to hear you ramble about Avery and the oc

thank you so much for enabling me god bless

oh i should preface this whole thing with a big old trigger warning for pregnancy and miscarriage talk

alright so! let's start with the oc. her name is saffron elwood, and she was college sweethearts with toshi. they both knew they were going to break up at graduation, so they both were very much focused on the now together. like, this was all they were going to get with each other, so they should make the most of it.

saffron called toshinori "toshi" obviously and toshi called her "saffy". they were DISGUSTINGLY cutesy. my sincerest apologies to dave for having to put up with the both of them.

anyways. they were great together, but like they knew was going to happen, they broke up at graduation and toshi went home. little did either of them know at the time- saffron was pregnant. when she found out, she was torn- of course she was still keeping in touch with toshi, they might've broken up but not because of any real conflict between them. but they had just broken up because toshi was afraid she'd get hurt because of him. and she didn't want him to think she was trying to guilt him into coming back, nor did she want him to give up or put his dreams on hold for her.

so... she didn't tell him. she was torn on what to do her whole pregnancy. dave and his then-girlfriend (who would later become his wife) helped her out tremendously as emotional support, though dave really, really hated how she wasn't telling toshi about this.

her baby was going to be a girl, and saffron had decided on the name "anna" for her, kind of a little nod to toshi's mentor/mother figure, nana. and in the end, saffron had resolved to tell toshi about her pregnancy. then she found out she'd miscarried at 7 months.

to say saffron was devastated would be an understatement. saffron was so, SO ready and excited to be a mother, with or without toshi in her life. she dealt with a lot of grief, depression and self loathing in the wake of her miscarriage, and that self loathing led her to never telling toshi after all. she felt this was her burden to carry, since she blamed herself and her body for anna's death.

during this time, saffron met the man who would become her husband. i have not named him so if anyone's got suggestions, im all ears. her relationship with him helped her through the worst of it, and they got married. toshi attended the wedding and pretended like his heart wasn't breaking. after this, toshi and saffron do start to drift apart. by the time mha begins, they haven't spoken in 10 years.

i should preface this part with the fact that saffron and her husband were genuinely happy in the beginning and everything im about to say takes place over like. years and years.

anyways. saffron and her husband tried many, many times to have kids. saffron miscarried every time, and it took a toll on her. but her husband kept insisting that this time it would work out, this time their child would make it, just...not really accepting that saffron did not want to try anymore. she'd rather adopt children than put herself through this pain and guilt over and over again. her husband had this really weird thing about their kids being their biological children, though- every time she brought up adoption, he'd shoot it down. she ended up getting her tubes tied in secret so she could never get pregnant and suffer through that loss again.

saffron had been thrown into a pretty deep depression because of all of this, and ended up going to therapy and being prescribed depression meds. she slowly started to get better- this is the part she always stresses when she tells this story (which isn't often). she was getting better. but her depression meds made her gain weight, and suddenly her husband wouldn't touch her anymore. wouldn't look at her the way he used to. he'd assure her that of course he still loved her, of course he still found her sexy.

but it still didn't surprise her all that much when she found him in bed with another woman.

so, saffron got her ass out of there. she divorced him, cut all ties with him, even as he begged and pleaded for her to take him back.

and the day her divorce was finalized, saffron started the paperwork on adopting a child. she had wanted to be a mother for years, and goddamnit, she was going to be one.

obviously, avery turned out to be that kid. she was 8 years old when saffron adopted her, and had given up on being adopted, because avery was quirkless.

( a nasty byproduct of quirked society is that kids with good quirks get adopted more often than kids with weak quirks. kids who are quirkless seldom get adopted at all )

however, it took very little time to saffron to decide to adopt her- not out of any sense of pity, but because she could just feel in her bones that she and avery were meant to be family.

avery is in the same year as izuku & co, and she very much likes to give off tough, cool girl vibes. she played hockey back in the states (and is desperately trying to get a team set up at ua), and is currently throwing herself into computer studies and learning programming and stuff. see, avery never planned on going to ua for the hero course, because the hero course wouldn't teach her what she wanted to learn. the kind of hero she wants to be is someone like oracle, from dc comics. a cool hacker with all the intel, who can direct the flow of battle even though she's far from it physically.

anyways, avery wants to go to ua, so saffron and avery move to japan before avery's last year in middle school. guess which middle school she goes to for that third year. guess.

of course avery attaches herself to izuku immediately- besides her godsister melissa, he's the only other quirkless kid she's met. avery also has a strong sense of justice and no qualms about getting into fights with bullies, even if it does give her mother a headache.

it's through avery's friendship with izuku that saffron and toshi finally reconnect, and eventually rekindle their relationship. as saffron tells him later, "you have no idea... you're so easy to love, toshi."

OH ALSO LAST THING but saffron's quirk is Mend: she can undo a specific amount of time on an object, which frequently just looks like fixing or cleaning something.

[ateriblewriter]

Not Like This {4} (q.h)

a/n: this is it. the last part. im sorry for multiple reasons. its kinda rough read. but i wanted to get it out. i might rewrite a part later. Let me know what you think.

italics are a flashback of sorts

warnings: sad. death.

Enjoy!

Part1, Part2, Part3

3ish Years Later

Quinn sat by himself on the edge of the dock watching the waves roll over the water. He found he needed more time to himself when family and friends arrived at the house. They were all here for the memorial they held every year for the past few years. And like always, Quinn was having a hard time processing the death of one of his oldest bestest friends and one of the greatest persons he knew. This is not how he imagined this situation turning out.

If he hadn’t gotten Y/N pregnant in the first place. She wouldn’t have gotten sick and he wouldn’t be missing his brother. Quinn never regretted his child, nor did he blame the baby. He just missed his brother.

~

Quinn raced Y/N to the hospital. The day finally came that someone died who just so happened to be a match to Y/N and now she could get the heart she so desperately needed in order to survive. His prayers had been answered.

“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” He noticed his parents waiting in the lobby of the hospital. Something was amiss. He hadn’t had the chance to inform anyone of the great news and yet they were here. “Mom. Dad. What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry sweetie.” His mother broke down in sobs. He had never heard his mother cry in his life.

“What happened? Where’s Luke and Jack?”

“Quinn, there was an accident. It was bad. Luke’s in surgery and Jack.”

“No. Fuck. No.”

“Jack’s dead.”

Every ounce of happiness left him when he realized exactly where Y/N’s new heart was coming from. Why did fate have to be so cruel that it needed to take the life of his little brother in order to save the life of the person he loved the most? It wasn’t fair.

~

“Hey. Whatcha thinking about?” Y/N brought him out of reliving that terrible day for the thousandth time. He must have been taking too long down by the water and she was sent to reel him back into the group.

“Nothing.” He placed his hand over his now wife’s protruding belly. Y/N knew he was lying. She figured he was thinking about that day again. The day Jack died so she could live.

“I miss him too. Even though I literally have a piece of him in my chest. I hate the fact that I can’t talk to him everyday. And I really don’t like how our babies will have to grow up without really getting to know their Uncle Jack.”

“You can talk to me if you want. I know he was your best friend, but he was like a brother to me.” She spoke out again when Quinn didn’t respond. She knew her husband was silently grieving. But she wanted to be there for him. “Please.”

Y/N pulled Quinn closer to her, guiding his head toward the scar on her chest so he could hear her heart beating, his brother’s heart beat. She found it was often something that calmed him when he was in a mood like this.

“Where’s Theo?” Quinn quietly piped up as he continued to stare out at the calm water listening to the thump thump of the heart.

“He’s back at the house. Trevor and Luke found an old pair of rollerblades and are trying to teach him. He’s a natural.” She tried bringing a little joy to his mood, but wasn’t getting through.

“I know what we should name this little bean.” Y/N thought out loud. She had known the gender of the baby for a little while now, but since Quinn didn’t want to know until the child was born, she elected to keep it quiet.

“That’s perfect.” Quinn grinned, it was probably one of the best ways to get back a part of what he lost that day.

~

“Mommy had my baby?” Theo skipped along holding Quinn’s hand. The new addition to their little family arrived the previous day. Everything went swimmingly this time. Y/N wasn’t sick, her heart was beating strong. Now it was time to introduce Theo to his new baby brother.

“Yeah. Remember what we talked about Theo. We need to be gentle and quiet. The baby is sleeping right now.” Quinn reminded the 5 year old fragile and couldn’t play hockey yet.

“Mommy!” Theo squealed, forgetting what Quinn told him, as he climbed to sit next to Y/N. She was just finishing feeding him. “Is that him?”

“Yeah. This is your baby brother Jack.” Quinn watched as Theo leaned over to place a kiss on top of the baby’s head. From that moment he knew his boys were going to be best friends, like he had been with his brothers. 

Please let me know what y’all think. I’d love to hear your thoughts, comments, and complaints! I would really like to know if y’all like this one. 

[aregularhuman]

idk if this is controversial but is the neurodivergent label actually helpful outside of activism? like as an allistic adhd person i only relate occasionally to autistic people (mainly sensory issues tbh or social stuff but then again i have mad anxiety) n p much not at all to dyslexic/dyspraxic/etc people (the question of whether ocd n bpd are considered neurodivergencies is another question). but i keep seeing videos n stuff about ‘nd traits’ or ‘calling all nds’ and it seems like it’s become a quirky shorthand mainly used by autistic/audhd people that doesn’t feel like it includes nd allistics? im not saying everything should be focused around me me me, just that if you mean autistic just say autistic rather than neurodivergent.

I guess this kinda ties in with the whole (saw a tiktok and did no actual research) self diagnosis/quirkification of nd + mental illness online. (I’m v much pro informed self dx bc of costs n accessibility n consequences of having an official dx esp for autistics w housing n kids). I also think even if ur diagnosed making light hearted ‘put a finger down nd edition’ videos should b done w caution bc they often inadvertently contribute to the trivialisation of the struggles faced by nd ppl. you have to be aware of who your content reaches- tt/ insta is v different from tumblr/reddit lol.

and while I’m on this rant I hate the ‘neurotypical bad and complicated, neurodivergent good and direct’ narrative too. neither is good nor bad, just different. you gotta find your people because no one owes it to you to change their entire communication style just for you. just like I have to make an effort to do small talk etc with nts I have to focus on what I’m saying and explicitly spell out certain things when talking to my autistic friends. I understand people are hurt by nts being unaccepting and actually ableist and so go into this ‘I’m special and better than them’ mindset but it’s just not helpful imo.

I also feel like nd people find it hard to accept that you can be hella annoying and people finding you annoying isn’t ableist. I can be annoying as fuck and I try not to be- instead of going ‘ugh I can’t help interrupting people all the time and never letting them finish a thought- they’re being ableist’, I try n number the ideas I’m having and wait for the other person to finish or say ‘hey can I quickly add something before I forget and then you can continue’ and listen if they tell me to hold on a sec. relationships are about compromise n that’s not ableist.

maybe it’s just me not feeling like I fit in the ‘adhd is a gift’ narrative or the neurodivergent movement. I hate having adhd and would do anything to not have it. I do struggle to call it a disability tbh but I accept that that’s partially internalized ableism bc I can temporarily convince myself that I can function unmedicated n then I have exams n I fall apart…

anyway if anyone has thoughts pls do lmk