#… yeah this thought often occurs when one person is in a car

[trash-bin-ary]

I think everyone should learn sign language for sorry and thank you cause every time I go to do the sign and then am like oh yeah most people don’t know any asl I have to actually say it and hope they hear or can guess

[pudgedork]

it’s amazing what surrounding yourself with the right people can help you achieve. you’d finally allowed yourself to give in to your desires just a few short years ago, and already your progress was pretty remarkable. you used to be such a skinny little thing, but now… well, things were a bit different now.

progress started slowly. the desire to eat was there in your heart, but unfortunately your stomach wasn’t ready for the sudden step-up in intake. it took a couple of months to build up your capacity, but you soon found an unexpected boost. there were a few other feedees in your area as it turned out; you weren’t really looking for a relationship, but it wouldn’t hurt to make some new friends.

from the moment you all met up for the first time, the floodgates opened. not just for you personally, but for everyone in the group. turns out if you bring a bunch of gluttons with a passion for fatness together, waistlines are going to bulge. sharing in the pleasure of stuffing yourselves to the brim – and often beyond – while encouraging one another to order one more dessert… it was an intoxicating combination.

so here you were today; you’d recently surpassed 500 pounds, and you had no intentions of slowing down any time soon. your not-so-little gang of bad influences had become tightly knit over these last few years. you all wanted to see each other get huge, and you loved spending time together. even beyond the food, you just enjoyed their company.

you’d recently become the heaviest in the group, and it was unanimously agreed that you had the potential to get seriously fat; as if you weren’t already. that original target you set yourself of 300 pounds had proven to be deeply unsatisfying; you were barely getting started at that size! now, you didn’t really have a goal weight. you just wanted to keep growing and see how it felt. those fantasies of immobility and transforming your body into a mountain of blubber were thoughts you tried to bury, but deep down you knew there was every chance of your reality becoming not too dissimilar one day.

the routine for the group meet-ups remained pretty consistent; every sunday, you all met up for what was essentially the fast food equivalent to a pub crawl. this lasted from lunchtime all the way through to the late evening, by which point you were barely able to haul yourselves to your feet. looking back on when these meet-ups started, it was funny to think how self-conscious you all were. everyone was too afraid of the inevitable judgement from the staff – and the other customers – to order as much as they actually wanted. with time though, you stopped caring.

who cared if people spoke in hushed tones when they saw this pod of whales waddle through the door? it didn’t matter that the guy taking your order was mortified at how much you intended to eat, nor did it matter how the people at the next table over reacted when you lifted your bellies out to rest on the table.

you thought it was hot as fuck, honestly. yeah, it was kind of embarrassing to be known across town as this complete pig. everyone you went to school with knew, and you’d seen all the discussions they had on the local social media groups about you. but god damn, becoming this spectacle for people to observe with morbid curiosity only made you more desperate to pile on weight.

on the way to this week’s hangout you were reminded of an ongoing problem caused by your exploits; squeezing into your car was becoming a challenge. it wasn’t the biggest, so maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. it did however occur to you just how ridiculous it was to have to consider whether a car could physically accommodate your sheer mass like this. that wasn’t really a concern most people had, after all.

it didn’t half get you in the mood for your binge though. arriving at the first fast food chain, you parked up near your friend’s cars and headed for the door. these trips between your car and the various establishments you’d be visiting were the most intense exercise you got nowadays, and they were a serious workout. the thought of the day arriving where you were simply too fat to complete this journey had you biting your lip.

after a quick catch-up – chatting about what everyone had been up to that week – it was time to begin. you ordered a stack of burgers and several large drinks, and got to work. within minutes, you were releasing a satisfied belch and pushing aside your trash. your friends took a little longer to finish their first meals, but it was soon time to move on.

by the time you reached the fourth stop – your favourite bakery – one of your friends pulled you aside before you had a chance to order. you’d been one of the more ravenous members of the group for a while now, but they couldn’t believe your pace today. they were all completely stuffed from trying to keep up, but it was clear you were far from finished. so there was a change of plan for the rest of the day; all the attention was going to be on trying to find your limit specifically.

you didn’t have a chance to reply before they pointed out the feast laid out on the table. an enormous selection of delicious looking baked goods. there were more than you could count. admittedly, your mind was a bit fuzzy from the caloric assault it had faced so far already, but even still; this was an obscene amount of food. and it was all for you.

squeezing into the seat, you briefly questioned if it was sturdy enough to handle you. no time for that, there was already a cake being shoved into your mouth. the next couple of hours were a haze. your friends took turns cramming a seemingly endless supply of food into you, while the rest of them caressed your bloated gut in an attempt to ease the strain. the only breaks came to pour milkshakes down your throat to hydrate you.

the state of pure bliss you found yourself in meant you didn’t even register the crowd that had gathered in the building. phone cameras flashed and recorded the evidence; they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. what the hell were they witnessing? who was this absolute mess, and how the fuck did they let themselves get like this?

by the time your gorging was over, the crowd had long since dispersed. most of the employees had left as well; there was no chance of other customers coming in while you were eating your way through the bakery’s entire stock. you felt more nauseous than you’d ever experienced before in your life. your stomach was stretched so tight you were concerned it might actually split open. the jeans you’d worn into the building lay torn under the table; there was absolutely no chance of them ever fitting you again.

shuffling in your seat to try and find a more comfortable position, your earlier fears about the chair were suddenly justified. a loud crack as the legs snapped underneath your heft, and down you went. before your friends had a chance to ask if you were alright, you released an enormous burp that eased the pressure in your belly significantly.

leaving your jeans behind – and with your shirt covering only a fraction of your gut – your friends attempted to help hoist you to your feet. you could barely maintain your balance. it was clear walking to your car wasn’t happening. one of the employees said they’d bring through a delivery pallet so you could be dragged out of the building.

the realisation of how absurd this situation was finally hit you. you were so stuffed, so unfit, so far gone, that your friends were having to literally wheel you out of the bakery using industrial equipment. you were completely humiliated, and you could barely contain your orgasm.

the next problem came once your friends – with assistance from the remaining employees – finally managed to get you to your car. you really weren’t in a fit state to drive. there might not be any laws around driving under the influence of a biblical sugar rush, but your friends decided for you it’d be for the best if someone else took you home.

with great difficulty, they managed to shove you into the passenger seat. the seatbelts had already been getting pretty tight, but with your belly this inflated it simply couldn’t reach. the smallest of your friends – though that was relative in this company – offered to drive you home, since she only lived a couple streets over anyway. it took all her willpower not to get distracted by the cascading ocean of fat sat next to her every time there was a bump in the road, but soon enough you were home.

you had a mobility scooter in the garage. you’d picked it up cheap on the off-chance of an emergency; but it wasn’t as if you would ever get fat enough to actually need one for real. well, it sure came in handy now. your friend helped you shuffle from the passenger seat onto the scooter, and said her goodbyes. you rode into the house, and caught a sight of yourself in the hallway mirror. barely clothed, chocolate and cream smeared around your mouth, a picture of completely unhinged gluttony.

the thought of having to return to normality tomorrow hit you. you’d had a taste of life as your friends’ pet project, and you had no desire to turn back. you wanted more. you needed that experience again. this was everything you’d ever fantasised about. it was crazy, but you didn’t care. you wanted to spend the rest of your life stuffed to the brim, praised for how huge you were getting, for being such a good whale.

you felt your phone vibrate. it was a message in the group chat.

“enjoyed that, didn’t you fatass? don’t worry about work tomorrow. you’re our full-time pig now, and we’re going to help you achieve exactly what you want.”

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Okay but to be fair..

Gregory is ABSOLUTELY NOT EVIL. Not in any way. But personally I DO think he tows the line into jerkass territory a bit.

I mean, Freddy tells the kid that these are his friends and theres something wrong with how they're acting, and Gregory IMMEDIATELY scraps those friends without a single thought of "maybe we can get them back to normal", because its "what they deserve" for going after him. And then he takes it a step farther by cannibalizing the people that Freddy clearly cares about, to upgrade Freddy for no clearly established reason when Freddy is little more than willing, only to dance around/avoid telling the truth to the ONE PERSON he trusts and cares about.

Like dont get me wrong, I do NOT hate Gregory or think he should be considered evil. The kid's clearly had a hard time of it and they all WERE after him with the intent of harm.

But I also think Gregory could have been explained or developed a little better, cuz frankly he's kind of a dick

GREGORY IS TWELVE!!!!

I hate that I really keep having to say this to people. Gregory is fairly average in terms of what a middleschooler is like... Everyone forgets what it's like being that age, and Gregory really has no guidance other then Freddy, who can only help him to a certain extent.

I don't think Gregory needs a complex motive for what he does. What do we know about Gregory's motives?

According to cut lines from Vanny, he's here looking for his friends.

Him being trapped in the pizzaplex and homeless and squatting in is also a motive enough... Like Gregory HAS NO PARENTS OR GUARDIANS OTHER THAN FREDDY to really tell him what's right from wrong here. And Freddy doesn't really help that much other than going "These are my friends..." and "I could open this gate if I had monty's claws" "if I had chicas voice box i could open this door" and... oh yeah "Maybe you'll find a way to deal with Roxy when you are there" We don't have evidence that any other of the animatronics besides Freddy are sentient.

Gregory NOT listening to Freddy is often beneficial at points. Freddy is the only one Gregory has, while Gregory sees him as a safe place, it has been SUPER consistent in that game that Gregory doesn't really listen to Freddy when it matters. Sure, Gregory will listen to Freddy on things like, how to navigate areas of the pizzaplex, tips for where Exits are, where to go next, how the Security Badges work, because it's all unfamiliar to Gregory and he is lost and needs the guidance But in other instances... if Gregory REALLY wants to do something. He'll do it. Like every average middle schooler. And often times, Gregory not listening is beneficial. LIKE LITERALLY if the Princess Quest Ending is canon in any AU like mine is, the Princess Quest ending ONLY occurs when Gregory DIRECTLY goes against Freddy's wishes and doesn't listen to him. Freddy wants you to turn the bots against Vanny..... but if you DON'T listen to Freddy and play the last princess quest game, you free Vanessa's soul and stop the glitch.... Which people often call the "best" ending since you free Her and the plex. Oh yeah, and other endings like the Car ending... Gregory doesn't listen to Freddy again, and takes Freddy with him rather then leave him behind and Freddy usually turns out okay. PLUS GREGORY WOULD HAVE NEVER MET FREDDY IF HE WENT INTO THE UNSAFE PLAY AREA OF HIS STOMACH HATCH WHEN HE WAS PASSED OUT TO HIDE FROM VANESSA IN THE FIRST PLACE. I think Gregory does the right balance of listening and not listening to Freddy. He actually behaves like an actual child! And I actually Like that Gregory takes initiative to decommission the animatronics that are chasing him and are super aggressive.

The Glamrocks have legit killed other children and employees. Possibly even Gregory's friends that he's looking for...

There is an entire wall in the "Sister Location Room" that gives explicit instructions on how to run and jump and shoot and avoid the animatronics.

Yes, while... Gregory did not need to go out of his way to Decommission all of them (especially chica or monty depending on your run through if you stay after 6am and decommission all three) And yes... Gregory COULD have theoretically stayed in Freddy's room all night after he retrieves him from Parts and Service.... but then we wouldn't have a videogame. Well, we could, but it would mean half of the game would be open world, then the other half would default to fnaf1 gameplay. Like he could have stayed in the Daycare or in Freddy's room, but he probably would have been found by Vanessa or someone eventually, and I don't think it would make for an interesting videogame to play.

Like, I love the fandom, and I love how so much of us have humanized the animatrioncs.

BUT FROM GREGORY'S POINT OF VIEW...

There is no evidence that any one of the animatronics other then Freddy are sentient. Like take off your "I love robots" and/or "I love the animatronics" and/or "Im a furry" glasses bias for FIVE seconds... and pretend you're... neutral on them... I'm sure Gregory isn't thinking of "how can I stop them without hurting them" .... like... at all.

And even if the animatronics ARE sentient and are killing children and employees against their will...

THEY ARE STILL KILLING PEOPLE.

And they have killed people, and they are hunting him. And will continue to hurt other people if Gregory doesn't do something. Which we learn is one of Gregory's motivations in the game in general

"If I leave now nothing will change will it, they'll be more disappearances"

I honestly feel that this line makes the "they get what they deserve" a little more justified in my eyes. And even up till that point... all of them have been super aggressive and chasing him all over the place.

Plus Empathy is a learned trait, and it's hard to develop empathy for something that is actively hunting you and is basically, a cold unfeeling murderous robots in his eyes that are aggressively chasing him all night.

Especially with how Gregory talks to Freddy about Decommissioning his friends.

(but it's not like Freddy tries to talk to his friends when you get close to them inside of Freddy like "hey, why are you hunting this kid?" or... "hey what is up bandmates... can't wait to get gregory" )

Do I feel like the animatronics "Get what they deserve" ? Like Gregory says?

No, I don't.

(my rl friend does tho who i introduced to sb this week looooooool)

But From Gregory's point of view, I think he is justified, and in Twin Animatronics... Gregory does have character development in the background to understand that "hey, the other animatronics are actually people and maybe I should start treating them better rather then just pieces of parts for Freddy"

I'm sick of these two polar extremes where "Gregory did nothing wrong" or "Gregory did some things wrong"

...I honestly think. With the knowledge the that Gregory knows... and being 12 and doing his best to survive...

He did the absolute best that he could given the circumstances.

And I'll just share a little of @witchysolfan 's thoughts on the matter.

I know I repeat a lot of myself here. I just had to get this all out.

Anyway. Love Gregory.

I do not think he's a uwu baby who did nothing wrong... But for all the information Gregory had at the time, and the age range he is, he made the correct choice based on all the information he knew at the time.... And in Twins... He'll learn more, and maybe possibly talk and apologize to the Glamrocks he broke (if all the Glamrocks weren't avoiding him like the plague right now due to trauma)

[farfromstrange]

hi can i request for angst w no comfort, matt murdock fic wherein the reader died i like angst 🥲, specially your work "angel on the roof" thank you !!!

Thank you so much for your request, lovely! I was so excited (that sounds horrible in this context) when I saw it and I was even more excited when I read what you requested (Yeah, it still sounds horrible). Angst is my forte, and I've really been in an angsty mood lately. So, I wrote this in two hours and I cried while writing it. I hope you like it! (And I also hope you're doing okay, sweetheart.) This is not about suicide like the other hurt/no comfort fic, but it still hurts the same. I hope I could live up to your expectations!

Back To December | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: He fell for you hard and fast, but all good things eventually slip through Matt Murdock's fingers, and he is left alone all over again.

Warnings: ANGST, hurt/no comfort, Character death, mentions of blood, there's a really creepy guy at the beginning (but no sexual assault!), yeah this is just angsty as fuck

Word Count: 3.2k (I got carried away)

It’s a cold December afternoon. The remains of this week’s snowfall are covering the ground and it’s cold, so cold, but he can barely feel it. Something else, something colder, something far more painful is creeping up his spine. It’s not because his clothes are soaked or the snowflakes that have latched onto his hair. He feels as if the floor has been ripped out under his feet, and it has been a long time since he last felt this way. Loneliness has become his closest companion over time and he got used to always losing and hardly ever winning. Over time, he got used to grieving, he got used to being left, and he got used to a painful hollowness in his chest that eventually started to occur more often. The hole in his chest has always been there, but merely a few days ago it had been somewhat filled. 

Matt Murdock has never experienced much happiness in his life. He tried to fight the demons in his head, but eventually, he succumbed to them. He succumbed to the claws that tore at his chest and dragged him down into an endless abyss. He used to associate the color gray with his life because when he thought about it, there has never been much color. He got used to existing rather than living until someone stepped into his life that was anything but dreary. 

It was in summer, he remembers, the third of July when he was walking the streets of Hell’s Kitchen on his way home from work. The noise of the city moved into the back of his mind as he tried to focus on anything but the deafening sound of injustice and everyday life. They often blurred together and mixed when he wasn’t focusing, and sometimes that was worse than when he purposely focused on his surroundings. 

He was just casually walking when he heard the distinctive fast sound of footsteps straight ahead. He tilted his head curiously, not sure if it was just another teenager playing tag with their friends in the middle of the night or someone walking fast, or perhaps someone who needed his help. It was then he stretched his senses out to judge the situation, but by the time he focused on the erratic heartbeat coming his way, the person who it belonged to already stood in front of him. 

It was the third of July, he knows, when you came into his life. 

You were just walking home from work when a man emerged from behind one of the cars parked along the street of the shop you were working at. You had closed early, which was rare but not impossible, especially not with the heat so heavy that no one wanted to set foot outside. Even with air conditioning, you felt like dying every time you went to work. 

You tried not to think too much about the stranger, your keys already clutched tightly in your hand, but when you sped up, the man sped up too. It was then your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You were a terrible fighter and would have broken your thumb before you could have caused any serious damage, so instead, you ran. You ran until the streets got lighter and finally, God finally, someone else walked the street you were on. 

Not paying much mind to who the stranger was, you stopped right in front of him. Your hand caught his sleeve - you felt guilty because well, if the glasses hadn’t been an indicator, his cane surely was, and using a blind guy to get out of being mugged or God forbid, possibly even raped, felt wrong but he seemed like the kind of guy that wouldn’t mind helping. It was something about him that made you feel safe, almost. 

“I need you to pretend we know each other,” you said entirely out of breath, one of your sweaty strands of hair caught on your dry lips. 

He frowned, tilting his head in the direction of the other man’s steps and he realized just what you were running from. 

“Please,” you begged, and he could only imagine the panic in your eyes. 

He licked his lips. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, just- oh, for fuck’s sake! Kiss me.”

“Sorry, what?” Matt stammered. He thought of many things, one of them being completely screwing his disguise and beating whoever was following you into a puddle until he couldn’t walk anymore, but your request was… odd and a complete surprise, at that. 

The more he thought about it though, it made sense. The man would only ease up if he saw Matt as your boyfriend and not a strange blind guy. 

You looked at him expectantly and the closer the man behind you came, the faster your heart beat. If he wasn’t willing to help you, you would have to run again. 

Fortunately, he caught himself fast enough to pull you in by the waist - his strength surprised you - and pressed his lips to yours. That he would do it, you never expected. It had been a weird request, of course, but the only thing you thought of that would make a possible rapist turn the other way. 

You caught yourself on his arms, leaning into the kiss as if it were real, and partly it felt like it. He was an amazing kisser, you noticed, and if this had been a date you would have thoroughly enjoyed it, but the only thought in your mind was getting rid of the man that was following you. Or had been following you, anyway, because upon seeing the kiss that looked more realistic than it was, he stopped and turned back around. 

When the stranger pulled away, you forgot how to breathe for a second. Your cheeks flushed, the blood rushing to your head immediately, and you pressed a hand in front of your mouth. Matt thought it was cute, although he had to contain himself from hunting down the man that even led you to make such a rash decision in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact that he was blind that made you believe he was on the good side, and the kiss seemed to have saved your ass, which he was glad about because fighting someone right in front of the eyes of an unknown stranger was not on his to-do list. The kiss hadn’t been either, but it had already happened and the awkward silence made matters worse. 

Your breath hitched in your throat again. “I’m so sorry,” you said, muffled through your hand. 

“Um,” Matt forgot how to speak. 

“I just wasn’t sure what to do and you know, most men don’t take no for an answer and I thought- God, I am so sorry. You probably think I’m a psycho now.”

He quickly caught himself again. “Oh, no. No, I absolutely don’t think that,” he said. “I was just… surprised?”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I promise I’m not usually like this.”

“You were scared, I understand.”

“I really didn’t know what else to do.”

It was the truth, and the more he spoke to you, the more he realized your heartrate was going down. You were safe. 

“Okay,” you bit your lip, “Okay, I should probably go. Nice meeting you. I’m just gonna-” as you distanced yourself, you pointed behind yourself in the direction you were originally headed, “Yeah, I’m just gonna go.”

“Wait,” Matt heard himself object to your attempt to leave. 

You halted, surprised he would even want to talk to you after what happened. A small smile rested on his lips. The same lips you had just kissed. 

“What’s your name?” he asked. 

The first time he heard your name was on July third, the night dark and hot, and it was the same night you kissed him for the first time. It was a kiss out of desperation, a way to save yourself from the grabby hands of a stranger, and yet, when he asked for your name, he received an answer. 

“I’m Matt,” he introduced himself. 

July third was the day you came into his life and from then on, you refused to leave. His senses got used to your scent, your taste, and the feel of your skin under his fingers when he had first kissed you. His ears got used to the sound of your voice, and the feeling of your name on his tongue became natural. 

One meeting turned into two and eventually, only a month after, in fact, he realized he had done the one thing he never expected himself to do ever again: he fell for you. He fell fast and hard, the first tint of color in his dull life, and the pain in his chest got a little more bearable with you by his side. You became the light in the darkness, the one person he could always turn to, and when you found out who he was - who the man behind the black mask was, you didn’t run. 

You found out one night when you used your key to get into his apartment. He hadn’t answered any of your calls and he felt guilty, but then you stood in his apartment just as he walked through the door. He had a huge gash on his side and he was sure he wouldn’t make it to the couch in time. When he heard your heartbeat and the way it jumped when you saw him, he was sure death would be kinder than having to listen to you leaving, but the anticipated moment of rejection never came. 

The light of his life stayed. You had dropped everything to hold him up. You patched him up and you held him as he writhed in pain, and when he was finally patched up and safe, he caught your wrist. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked him. 

He hissed, not sure if it was because of emotional or physical pain, but perhaps both. You sounded small, worried almost, but the sound of your heartbeat was the most familiar to him and so he knew that you weren’t scared, you were merely curious. 

And that was when he knew that he had fallen head over heels in love with you.

“I wanted to protect you,” he said. 

The thought of losing you had been his greatest fear. You were the color he desperately needed, the reason for him to keep going. He thought that, with your help, he could make it. He thought his life could finally be normal. 

But even the most beautiful of flowers die eventually. It’s a slow death, usually, a constant process of withering. With you though, it was fast and it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. You weren’t a flower, you were human and he realized that too late one night. 

On July third, he swore to protect you, always. He swore to save you, to hold you and take care of you until his dying breath. On the third of December though, his worst fear became reality, and suddenly, the tint of color in his life was flickering like the billboard outside of his apartment that you had often complimented. The tint of color in his life, the beautiful flower, the light that kept him going, stood right in front of him and he barely had the time to open his mouth when the shot rang out. 

Why did you have to follow him, anyway? You were foolish but you had been so worried, you stormed out of your apartment, determined to find him. The rooftop you finally found him on was dark just like his life had been before you. 

You were so relieved to see him alive, you didn’t notice the dark shadow on the floor or the clinging of metal that filled the air. “Matt!” you called out, but his mouth opened and instead of words, you could hear the faint blow of a gun. 

The shot rang out and for a moment you thought it hit him. For a moment, you were worried, and then the sharp pain tore through your abdomen and you knew, the shot wasn’t meant for him.

His arms caught you as you fell. Matt wasn’t sure what was worse, the feeling of your blood running through his fingers as he pushed on the gaping wound on your abdomen or the erratic sound of your fading heartbeat as it tried its best to beat for you, to supply your body with blood, but it couldn’t pump so fast as to catch up with the speed you were losing it again. 

“Matt-” you smiled when you saw his face. “You’re safe,” you said. “I thought you weren’t safe.”

“Shh,  sweetheart,” he told you, and he tried hard not to sob - your heart had become his favorite song, a symphony that was unique in itself, but now it was running out like a broken record. The sand in the hourglass ran faster than he could catch you. 

You choked. The missing fear in your voice told him that you knew. Oh, you knew you weren’t going to make it. 

“You foolish, foolish- Jesus,” he bent over you, his hand still tightly pressed against your abdomen, but the sharp pain you had felt was gone. You just felt numb now. “I told you to stay home,” he said. His voice cracked at the end because now even he knew, deep down, that you weren’t going to make it out of this. 

And he had just found you. It didn’t seem fair. 

You sucked in a sharp breath. “I was just-” you coughed again, and he could taste the copper in the air from where it ran down the corner of your mouth. “I was worried,” you breathed. 

He shushed you again. “It’s okay,” the first tear descended his cheek and met with yours, “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna get you out of here and fixed up, okay? Hey-” Your eyes drooped, but he held your face with such force, you felt compelled to open them again, but you were tired. Oh, you were so tired. 

It was your time to tell him, “It’s okay.”

Your body was wracked with a terrible wave of shivers and even though he was holding you tightly to his chest, his body was just cold air to you. Everything was cold.

“No, don’t close your eyes! You have to stay with me, sweetie, okay? Just a little longer.”

“I can’t.” And he knew you couldn’t.

“You don’t get to do that, not yet. It’s not time yet. We have so much-” he grunted in the back of his throat. “Remember you told me about the pyramids in Egypt? You wanted to go there,” he said, and at this point, he was crying more than he was smiling. “So you have to stay awake, okay? Stay awake for me, baby.”

You reached out your weak hand, touching his cheek. There was blood on your fingers and it smeared on his cheekbone. Your touch was cold. You used to be so warm and now you were simply cold, and your heartbeat turned into tiny beats after another. 

“We both know I’m not gonna make it,” you said with all the strength you had left. 

“No,” he was determined, “Don’t say that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Matthew-” the call of his full name was almost unfamiliar. “Matthew, listen. Listen to my heart.” 

“I am, baby, and it is still beating, that means there is still time. I can save you. I can-”

“No, you don’t understand,” you said. Your hand moved from his cheek to the left side of his chest. “I’m always going to be here.” 

“Stop,” he sobbed. “God, don’t do this to me. You can’t do this. You have to hold on.”

“It’s time,” you said. 

“No, baby, please-”

“It’s time for me to go, Matthew.”

“No.”

Your hand dropped, your muscles too weak to hold your body up anymore. Thud, thud, thud. He focused on your heartbeat, but he soon realized that it wasn’t yours, it was his. His own heartbeat was louder than yours, but it had the same beat, it played to the same rhythm as yours. Your bodies aligned, but the blood, oh the blood. Your scent was overshadowed by the smell and the taste of pure blood and it made him sick. 

“I-” you choked again, but the sentence you wanted to say needed to be said, no matter how strong those claws were that were just waiting to pull you underwater. “I love you,” your voice broke like fragile glass upon impact, “and I always will.”

His forehead fell against yours. You were so cold. Matt held you, he held you to keep you warm, but you were getting colder by the minute and your blood seeped through his fingers, through his shirt, and that was when he realized. 

“No,” he desperately felt for your heart, but the familiar melody was gone. He couldn’t feel you, he couldn’t touch you, he couldn’t smell you. He could only hold your limp body as the life left your body and your soul with you. 

On December third, you died in his arms. On December third, he had to deliver your body to the hospital, but you were long gone when they found you. He knew you were gone, but he had held you for a while longer, trying to find the life inside of you, trying to keep his hope alive, but on December third, you died, and with you, all the color in his life faded into the darkest of blacks. 

Matt Murdock remembers the day he met you and he remembers the day you died. As he is standing over your grave now, the snow feels numb on his soaked clothes. What is creeping up his spine is worse than the cold of December. The pain of losing you is colder than snow, it’s colder than anything he has ever felt before. The cold has crept into his heart and frozen whatever life had been left inside of him. You died and he couldn’t save you. He had to bury you because he just couldn’t save you. 

You were the light of his life and Matt lost that, too, like he has lost everything in his life. It's then he truly starts to believe that everything he touches is supposed to rot and die. Everything he has ever touched, no matter how beautiful, has turned ugly, dark, and gray, and then eventually, dead. Cold, dark, and dead.

You were an explosion of wonderful colors but now you were gray, just like his life. A gray stone on the cemetery behind Clinton Church, your body cold, your blood branded into his skin and he cries. He stands at your grave and cries because you’re still in his head, you’re still in his heart, and it kills him that a memory is all he has left of you. He longs to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you like he had many times before, but you’re gone. 

His sweater smells of your perfume, his sheets smell of your bodywash and your essence still lingers in the air of his apartment, no matter how many times he opens a window, and then there is your name that suddenly everyone seems to have. He searches for you when it rings out, but you’re not there. 

On December third, you died, and with your memory lingering everywhere, he would go back to December all the time. And it breaks him to know you’re not there. 

[penname-artist]

A Compilation of Musings (about trauma)

There's kinda no one way that trauma "is" for anyone. Yes there's a shitton of overlapping similar symptoms and whatnot, but the fine fibers that make up a person's individual relationships with traumas are completely unique to that person. You don't always have the same symptoms or to the same extent, or about the same types of things.

Having more traumatic situations or bad things occurring on top of pre-existing trauma, for me, has both helped and hurt my progress. I'm more equipped for some of those things, because I've experienced it more than once, but the frequency of using those tools to fend them is equally more common.

Traumatic situations get fucking fuzzy a lot, especially when they're combined with and around other bad memories. My memory of April 2020 is like, super fucking bad. Hell, even the "summer of 2021 situations" is getting foggy. It's not gone obviously, but like. What I remember of then is less clear cut and it's getting mixed together with other traumatic memories. They're all co-existing...like villains sitting together on a bench.

Telling someone how to deal with their trauma, is kinda like telling someone to put some gas in their car. While their car is broken down, and on fire. Like. Good intention dude, to an extent, but like. Not what we need at this particular moment in time? Down the line, totally. Not right now. Right now I require a fire engine.

Does anyone else ever feel a sensation of like...traumatic nostalgia? Obviously, not good nostalgia, it's very much tainted with the BadTM, but there's often memories of things around that Bad that was far less Bad, and you kinda end up...reminiscing of it??? Am I nuts, is this actually a thing? Lemme know if you feel this is a thing.

Having an Old and Aged trauma is fucking WEIRD. Fucking, "This event used to take over my thoughts and ability to function like a member of society, and then after I went through all of this ugly processing and working through it shit, it's become so much LESS taking-over-my-life that it's kinda freaking me out a little. It went from "terrifying monster under my bed" to "slightly unsettling looking creature laying on the floor". Is that NORMAL?"

Anyways yeah brain thoughts woo

[alanahsart-blog]

well of course i want to know abuot my best friend June: 🥊, 🧊, 🍀

YAAAAAY hehe Im so glad <3 best friend June time :]

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

June is a weird little freak who actually enjoys and finds comfort in the mundanities of like... math. and business. (They're an accountant) It makes them feel like there's some order to their life and they find it relaxing. Absolutely bizarre. Of course, the root of their enjoyment of that is that it's sort of a destresser, so they also really enjoy getting to hang out with their friends, now that they have some that actually know them and are cool with them being a werewolf.

They are NOT a fan of interacting with anyone in a position to scrutinize them-- police, formal monster hunting organizations, stuff like that. At heart they are just some guy who doesn't like confrontation and doesn't really know how to deal with the scrutiny of mundane authorities. On a mundane note, since their senses are pretty strong, they are not a fan of strong smells and thus something like. Filling up the gas in their car sucks a little.

They have a paradoxical relationship with people relying on them-- on one hand, they love to feel like they can support and pay back the loyalty and kindness of their friends, but on the other hand, they are terrified of dropping the ball and letting people down, especially in life or death situations. This fear has come true several times, so they're currently kinda wrestling with a bit of an aversion to/guilt when it comes to taking on responsibility for others wellbeing-- they'll keep doing it tho <3

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

More or less, yeah actually!! This is the first image I ever drew of June, (left) which isn't too different to my latest ref for them (right.) Looking back I definitely prefer the flowers on their jacket to be smaller. Gotta shrink those back down!

Divine vision or something ����(they have since lost that gun. LMAO)

something that HAS changed about their design is a consequence of in-game events-- basically a large scar from getting blasted by undistilled magic from something called the wellspring. There was an instance in the mystery where this occurred where our gm described our characters sort of like.. mutated, messed up reflections as viewed through this magic, and in it described June as scaley green, so the "scar" they ended up with from getting blasted by it I interpreted as patches of scales :]. Makes hospital visits and beach days a little tough as you can imagine.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Well!!! June is my motw character and ofc was made for that purpose-- I'm a huuuuuge lover of monsters, spooky little guys, and generally fucked up characters, and so especially in a game where you're often going to be in conflict with those, I knew I wanted to make a character with the monstrous playbook.

I made them a werewolf ...... honestly mostly out of spite. LMAO. I have BIG problems with a lot of media depictions of werewolves, and thought this would be a great opportunity to do my take on a monster who I previously overlooked or didn't like because of how they were depicted in other stuff. In practice, they were definitely a combo of my own opinions about what would make a cool werewolf (a little uncanny, a little uneven and body horror-ish (it's a bit hard to tell in some pics, but they are kinda asymmetrical-- one sides a little more human and one's a little more wolfy,) mix of fangs and tusks and human teeth, overall monstrous silhouette rather than like. Actual Wolf or Hairy Guy With Slightly Strange Face)) and some traits about how they work drawn from medieval depictions and folklore (such as their time-frozen status, and the general Vibes of their look) :,3. I think it worked out very well personally, June is one of my favorite characters ever ever ever <3

[kckenobi]

thanks for the tag @katierosefun !!!! 💗

do you make your bed? hardly EVER, but in my defense, I pretty much am only in my bedroom when I'm going to sleep or am talking on the phone

what's your favorite number? It's been 8 since I was a kid and my mom said it was her favorite number ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

what is your job? teacher!

if you could go back to school, would you? I'm finishing my masters in a couple of weeks, and unfortunately I really haven't enjoyed it — but that's not because I don't like learning and school, more just a product of the actual institution and the fact that doing night classes half-time with a full-time job is fuckin hard!!! so I wouldn't rule out going back to school, especially because someday I think I'd like to train future teachers and that often involves a PhD, so we'll see :)

can you parallel park? YES and that's honestly my greatest flex.

a job you had that would surprise people? I don't think i have any super surprising past jobs.....i sing in weddings on the side? And funerals?

do you think aliens are real? Totally, it's statistically SO unlikely that the conditions for life as we know it occurred only once

can you drive a manual car? Okay listen,,,,LISTEN,,,.,,,I HAVE driven a manual car. I CAN. However,,,,,it was horrific. My grandfather taught me bc he had a manual and thought everyone should know how to use a stick shift, and I was like haha!!! How hard can it be!!! I love learning new things!!! WRONG it was SO HARD the car stalled CONSTANTLY bc I couldn't time the clutch/gas change properly, literally hyperventilated when I had to (gasp) STOP AT A RED LIGHT on a HILL bc oh god what if it starts going backward and I can't stop WHAT IF— so yeah, honestly I wish I liked it bc it did feel kind of cool, like flying a space ship bc you as the driver have so much more control than with an automatic transmission. But sadly, I did not cross the bridge from stressful to enjoyable lol

what's your guilty pleasure? I try not to feel guilt about the things I enjoy, but maybe it's how much sugar I like in my tea and coffee?

tattoos? sadly I have a weird thing about symmetry (and also making permanent decisions LOL) that I think will probably prevent me from getting one, but I do like the thought

favorite color? probably green!

favorite type of music? folk!!! We love some acoustic guitar and cutting lyrics

do you like puzzles? It seems so contrary to my personality but I actually hate puzzles. They take too long and for no reward bc then you just have to put it all away lol

any phobias? I am claustrophobic, though I've gotten so much better than I used to be!!! Ur girl can ride elevators and be totally calm unless they make weird sounds or there's too many people on them, which is fabulous woooooOoOoOo!!! Also randomly, this is a new one, needles?

favorite childhood sport? I was not a sports person, but baseball

do you talk to yourself? I have an hour commute to work, so the 2 hours I spend alone in the car daily are RIPE with out-loud conversations I have with myself

what movie(s) do you adore? Finch made me SOB, in the best way, and it's still one of my favorites even though I haven't seen it since the first time 3 years ago. Just—at the end of the world there are still butterflies. And to keep going, to be human, is to just love someone more than yourself. TEARS

coffee or tea? I hate that now my answer is generally COFFEE, who am I, i identified as a tea drinker for so long

first thing you wanted to be growing up? an astronaut (but alas, see claustrophobia), and a singing veterinarian (maybe I thought I'd sing the animals back to health, who knows?)

no-pressure tags: @lightasthesun @giggles-and-freckles @pandora15 @siarrawrites @ahsokryze @skywalker-tano-kenobi

[hinatastinygiant]

5 | Spirit in the Sky

Pairing: Hinata x Fem!Reader

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The following Wednesday you’re summoned to spend more time yet with your family. Though it’s often torture to be around one parent, let alone two, you suffer through it for the sake of Sawamura and Fuyuko. Besides, it’s at Sawamura’s house and he actually has a television there like a normal human being so your dad will most likely be distracted.

I got a friend in Jesus

So you know that when I die

He’s gonna set me up with the spirit in the sky

When your song ends, you put your car and park and take the key out of the ignition. You sigh as you look over at the front door, dreading what’s to come. But like the big girl you are, you pull yourself together and open the car door.

When your finger reaches the doorbell, you pray to the clouds above that Sawamura or Fuyuko will answer the door. However, no such luck occurs when you find your mother’s botox-looking face open the door.

“Y/N, honey, you’re here. I thought you weren’t going to show. It was almost a quiet night,” she hums passive-aggressively.

“Yeah. I was just about to ask who died,” you smile back fakely at her. But when her smile drops into a frown, you pull out your fake laugh to complement. “Only kidding!”

After that, you push your way through the door and drop off your things. You say hello to Sawamura and Fuyuko, who also look surprised that you’ve actually shown up. Then, you hear the television coming from the family room. Knowing it can only be one person, you begrudgingly shuffle over.

When you see the back of his head from behind the couch, you take a deep breath before approaching him. “Hi dad,” you smile as you walk around the side of the couch.

“Oh, hi Y/N! Wasn’t expecting you here. I didn’t know your mother invited-“

“Will you shut up,” your mother intervenes before he can finish his sentence. “Of course I invited her. She’s always invited here.”

“Yeah, 'cause it’s not her house,” you smile at your dad, hoping he’d side with you. But sadly enough, he never does.

“Y/N, why do you always have to make everything about you,” he sighs. “You know your mother loves you. She’s just looking out for you.”

“Do you even know what you’re saying or is that just your default response?” you grumble. However, just when he sits up in his seat- meaning trouble’s about to start- Sawamura saves the day.

“Dinner’s ready!”

You break your eyes away from your dad as you make your way over to the dining room table. If there’s one thing good about tonight, it’s the food. Or else, yeah, you might have been too busy to make it.

Thankfully, the table is quiet as everybody eats. And that your mom doesn’t say something corny like “it must be good since everyone’s so quiet” like she used to when you and Sawamura were kids. But that was back when you all actually wanted to be around one another.

“Are the two of you almost ready for the wedding?” she then asks as you all finish up your plates. “Anything we can help with?”

“Actually, if you could double-check my numbers for the final guest count it would be really helpful,” Fuyuko speaks up. “All that math makes my brain go crazy.”

“Oh, well, Y/N’s good with numbers. She is a teacher, after all. I’m sure she’d be happy to,” your mother volunteers for you.

“I would love to, don’t get me wrong, Fuyuko, but I’m going away with my friends this weekend. To the beach. Sorry,” you tell them. No way you’re going to let your mom push you into helping out for a wedding that’s not even yours against your will. It’s not that you don’t want to help. Sawamura’s your brother. But volunteering you? God, she gets on your nerves.

“The beach? You didn’t tell me that,” your mother scoffs.

“Didn’t think I needed to seeing as I’m a grown woman and all,” you roll your eyes as you look down at your empty plate.

“Grown woman?” she chuckles aloud. “A grown woman would be able to find herself a date to her brother’s wedding without needing him to go out of his way to get one for you!”

“A grown woman shouldn’t need a date in the first place,” you hiss. “And I certainly don’t need you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Settle down. God, can’t we ever just have one peaceful dinner? One fucking dinner without screaming at each other?” your dad begins to escalate the situation, slamming his hands and utensils down on the table. “Why can’t we ever just get alone for one fucking night?”

With that, he storms off leaving the rest of the group in a stunned silence.

“I’m going clear my plate,” you nod in Sawamura’s direction before standing up and taking your dishes to the kitchen.

“I think I’ll do the same,” Sawamura nods back. “Fuyuko, Mom, I’ll take yours, too, while I’m up.”

“Thank you, son,” your mother smiles up innocently at him.

You shake your head as you walk to the kitchen where you place your dishes in the sink and your trash in the garbage.

“Well, that went better than I thought,” your brother sighs as he follows suit.

“Mhm, it was nice and quiet after dad stormed off. Hey, Sawamura, you know, if you and Fuyuko ever want kids maybe you could adopt mom and dad,” you tease with a big grin.

“No way in hell,” he chuckles at your comment. “Besides, I think they’d rather be with you.”

“Yeah right,” you scoff. “Only right thing I ever did in their eyes is go back for my Master's so I could teach at the university. I can’t think of a single other decision they’ve approved of. You, however, Mister Detective, are their pride and joy.”

“It’s not a competition, Y/N,” he shakes his head as he leans up against the sink and crosses his arms.

“Do mom and dad even know you smoke?” you then ask.

“Of course not. You know mom used to be a cop, too. Who’s to say she wouldn’t turn me in? She knows some of the older guys around the station,” he whispers back to you.

“Well she never did anything about it when she found out I was smoking back in high school. Except, you know, smashing my phone on the ground with her foot and dad cursing out my boyfriend at the time. Hey, maybe if he never did that then I’d have a date to your wedding.”

“Yeah, ‘cause any guy with a J name is such a catch,” he laughs.

“Beats going with some guy I don’t even know. Are you okay with me going with him anyway?” you then ask genuinely.

“Of course I am. He’s a good guy, I think you’ll have a good time with him. And I’m happy it’ll get mom off your ass. I know how that stresses you out,” he replies, meeting your level of sincerity.

“Thanks, Sawamura,” you smile. “When you put it that way, I appreciate the help.”

“Anything for my little sister,” he nudges you. “Now, let’s go back out there. We can’t hide forever.”

You let in a deep breath before nodding your head and exhaling. “Ready when you are,” you respond as you follow him out. 

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[taegularities]

Tw talks about bipolar disorder and adhd ahead

If a friend texts that she’s sick in a work group chat do you expect her to text you privately because you’ve made plans go to out to eat because she said “I’ll text you tomorrow how I feel”

When I asked about it I got this as an message “Also put in the group app that I'm sick. Thought that was clear” like bitch yes maybe to them but I’m not a fucking dog but I’d really liked it if you’d shot me a text privately.. ughhh it took everything in me not to tell her a private one would have been nice

Lately things she’s telling don’t match with what she’s telling at work. Now all of a sudden she has ADHD solemnly because her bf got in a small car accident which means she’s not the center of attention anymore. I told my mom about it and she found it strange like you can’t have bipolar disorder and ADHD (she never got officially diagnosed by a doctor.. as far as I know) ever since the new year started I feel like we’re kinda like casual colleagues and JUST friends you know like I don’t know shit about her anymore

(Also do I work with my /best/ friend yes. Do I regret telling 1,5 years ago that it was fine by me if she started working the same job as me FUCK YES. I’ve send you an ask about my best not so best friend last year or so. So maybe you know who I am, I also did send you an ask with a tw up top before. Anyways I feel a lot calmer now that I could vent to someone.)

Thanks for always listening to our bitch ass stories and giving feedback on what to do going forward. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.

hmmm. first of all, hug 🫂 i'm sorry the two of you have been going through a rough patch... such things always suck big time :(

so, i'd say it'd be best to communicate that with her — but in order to do that, i'd start calmly, when you're in a peaceful mindset, and not too angry anymore.

i think when someone's sick, the energy is quite low, right? perhaps she forgot your guys' plans (which sucks); or maybe she thought it'd be sufficient to put the message in your gc? yeah, i personally would still text someone privately, but that's different for everyone, too. though she probably could've phrased it nicer than she did...

about the bipolar/adhd thing, i unfortunately don't know enough about this, but i did a quick google search and apparently those two can co-occur? if someone's able to educate me on this, please feel free :') self-diagnosis, however, is never good, and it happens way too often these days.

so yeah, i think communication always helps if you're open for it!! if possible, suggest for her to go to a doc, too, bc they could give her a definite diagnosis at least. same with the friendship/colleague thing... spill it all out.

and you know, if that convo doesn't work out, that's okay, too. people grow apart, which can absolutely happen when you guys work together as well, since there are so many more layers you get to know about that person. sometimes their personality doesn't align with ours anymore. but i've had such convos before, and some made the friendship stronger and some ended them — both is ok and part of life !!

i'm really happy venting helped you <3 i'm here anytime, no worries babe. y'all are always here for me, too !! but yes, do try a convo — i'm trying to see both your povs and i feel like that's the best solution for now. good luck, love 🥺

[iagreewithlilithsrightsnwrongs]

ok so. in my college au, theres no supernatural elements, yes? so ive been thinking abt ava n how in the shadow her being paralysed, alone, an orphan with poor caregivers is an integral part of her character. and i dont know how to incorporate smth similar in this au.

i’ve read abt conversion disorder. you can google it n have a better understanding but basically “Conversion disorder is a mental condition in which a person has blindness, paralysis, or other nervous system (neurologic) symptoms that cannot be explained by medical evaluation.”

“conversion disorder happens as a way for your brain to deal with emotional stress. It’s almost always triggered by upsetting situations and other mental disorders.” and “It also happens more often to people who have a history of emotional stress or who have a hard time talking about their feelings.”

the most common symptom is “the loss of one or more bodily functions. Examples include: Weakness or paralysis. Loss of balance or difficulty walking.” also: movements that you can’t control, tunnel vision or blindness, loss of smell or speech, numbness. 

(this got long but this is useful for me n shit so yeah)

common signs: a debilitating symptom that begins suddenly, history of a psychological problem that gets better after the symptom appears, lack of concern that usually occurs with a severe symptom, they affect your movement or senses, and you can’t control them, hey can’t be explained by any other condition, medication, or behavior, they aren’t caused by another mental health problem, they cause stress in social and work settings.

“The physical symptoms are thought to be an attempt to resolve the conflict the person feels inside.”

here’s some examples (which i need a lot of cuz its kinda hard to understand all those medical terms n shit, from all the sites i’ve read on it): “For example, a woman who believes it is not acceptable to have violent feelings may suddenly feel numbness in her arms after becoming so angry that she wanted to hit someone. Instead of allowing herself to have violent thoughts about hitting someone, she experiences the physical symptom of numbness in her arms.” “For example, imagine taking a hard fall off your bike and then not being able to move your arm. But your arm isn’t injured. Neither is any other part of your body.Your body converted the emotional and psychological stress of your fall into the physical response of a paralyzed arm.” “Physical symptoms can sometimes help with an internal conflict. For example, if you’re struggling with the desire to hurt someone, conversion disorder may cause you to become paralyzed, making it impossible to act on that desire.”

now back to ava. it started to happen after the car accident that took her mom. because of how stressful it was, for weeks, ava was paralysed n doctors were confused cuz every test didnt show how the fuck that can happen. some episodes last days but sometimes its weeks, n they might be gone just as soon as they appeared. 

lil 7 year old ava was terrified n it just kept being amplified everytime she thought it was getting better. her mom was dead. the doctors told her her dad wasn’t coming to pick her up which shocked her cuz she thought he was dead (very awkward for the doctors). both parents only children so no help there, grandparents either dead or in care homes. 

then she gets send to the orphanage, all alone and confused since they were in Spain on vacation n now she doesnt understand anything. most workers n kids dont even speaking spanish since the orphanage specializes in misplaced children, so now shes learning english, n spanish, and she thinks shes still paralysed for weeks, months UNTIL. she makes a friend, a kid in another room who found out abt her n befriended her. 

and ava only starts feeling better when this friend, diego, who’s such a sweet boy, but so sick he’s not gonna live that much longer, and he knows it, says “jsut because you cant move doesnt mean ur not fun!! i think ur cool, ava silva.” n ava moves. its a miracle, diego is an angel, ava is saved n all the kids are ecstatic, ava is crying in pure relief but also confusion because what???

doctors label it as a freak accident n dont want to think much of it since what does it matter, ava is just a girl. but the childcare workers now label ava as the attention seeker n never trust her abt anything. some older kids do it too, but most of them are agaisnt the ladies there out of principle n spite. still, it sucked, n now ava cant trust any adult to save her life n cant even trust her own body to work how its supposed to.

as she gets older she both gets better and worse? she definitely knows when and how to calm down, n the episodes go away if the main source of stress gets resolved, except for any stress caused by ptsd, which ava definitely has from yknow the fucking accident n her moms death. she also, however, has a very yolo mentality, n will get in trouble n in stressful situations most of the time. she’s a menace to herself, n it normally results in one or more limbs to go numb or paralyzed. 

she was homeschooled tho, since it two maybe 2 years of her being bullied, picked on, critiqued, n having the overall stressful n horrible experience that is being a new kid in a new school after ur mom died, for the teachers to beg the childcare workers to keep her at home and safe so she stops showing all these upsetting symptoms. its freaking everyone out and it disrupts the class. so yh, ava was struggling.

when she turns 18 n ages out of the orphanage, she scrambles to find a job n a home n shit. father vincent, a local priest, helps her and shelters her. she shows her the beauty of religion n its practices n the glory of god, but ava is more fascinated by the art there. like sure shes seen movies n read things, but shes never stepped foot in a museum. in fact she didnt go out much just out of precaution n also cuz the ladies most of the time forbade her (if she got hurt they could come under fire n they didnt want that with her symptoms n their unpredictability)

vincent tries to teach ava all abt religion, meanwhile she’s studying the architecture, the paintings, the sculptures. vincent wanted a student, but he didnt have that in ava. so he decided to embrace that n help ava with this calling. its also vincent who tells ava to go to therapy n research abt her symptoms n possible disorder. ava does it more out of the fear vincent would get fed up with her not following his rules n getting kicked out for it. it actually helped tho, and she wont admit it to no one ever. 

i rly like this hc for this au, since it stays true to the character while remaining realistic to our universe n world n shit. HOWEVER. if anyone who has this disorder wants to criticize anything ive written, pls dm me, ask me, whatever. im open for constructive criticism always!! 

also this got long apologies

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

319 of 2023

~HABiTS~ Do you tend to speed when you drive?

I don’t have a licence.

Do you smoke cigarettes?

No, I don’t.

Does your temper flare a lot?

Yeah, I’m prone to anger, but I calm down quickly.

Do you get emotional easily?

No, at least not on the outside. I keep my feelings inside and sometimes I’m drowning.

Do you get obnoxious when you’re drunk?

No, I just get really honest.

Which shoe goes on first?

Never paid attention to that.

Are you lazy?

Only after work while resting. At work I do my best.

Name one thing you do that people always tell you about.

Biting my nails.

Are you superstitious?

Not at all. I find it silly.

Do you get bored with relationships quickly?

Why would I even be married then?

Can you sleep without blankets covering you?

I don’t think so. Even in summer.

What position do you sleep in?

All possible and impossible ones.

What do you do when you’re angry?

I’m angry. It’s visible on me.

What do you do when you’re sad?

I stop talking.

Who do you call when you have a bad day?

Run away from my house and end up in my hometown. It always does good to me.

-Y0UR ABC’S- A - is for the last person that made you ANGRY.

I can’t recall anyone.

B - is for BEER you prefer.

Lindemans, definitely.

C - is for do you have a CAT?

Even two.

D - is for can you DANCE?

Why does this question appear in every survey? I don’t give a shit about dancing.

E - is for do you have your EARS pierced?

Not only ears.

F - is for your best FRIEND.

My husband, among others.

G - is for did you ever watch GUTS on Nickelodeon?

Never heard of it.

H - is for the last person who HUGGED you?

My husband.

I - is for close your eyes.. what IMAGE do you see?

Swirling shapes and visual snow.

J - is for have you ever been to JAIL?

Boring question, no I wasn’t.

K - is for when is the last time you flew a KITE?

Never, boring.

L - is for the LOVE of your life.

My husband, easy.

M - is for the last piece of MAIL you got.

Order confirmation.

N - is for do you remember NERF guns?

I’m not even sure what they are.

O - is for do you OWN a car?

No, I’m just a co-owner.

P - is for your favorite PASTTIME.

Travelling and photography.

Q - is for do you like peace & QUIET?

Not too quiet, I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.

R - is for do you like the color RED?

It’s not bad, but not my favourite either.

S - is for how many hours of SLEEP you need to function?

Usually 8, but 7 goes as well. I have to be careful about lack of sleep.

T - is for what TIME is it?

15:46, we just had daylight savings change.

U - is for what is UNDER your bed?

Suitcases.

V - is for what you did last VALENTINE’S day.

Got a gift, gave a gift, that’s it.

W - is for do you drink a lot of WATER?

No, water is disgusting.

X - is for have you ever had an X-RAY?

I had two surgeries, so answer that yourself. And countless CT and MRI scans.

Y - is for the last person you YELLED at.

I don’t yell. This survey is boring.

Z - is for have you ever watched ZORRO?

As a kid.

-RAND0M- Who do you wish you could hang out with right now?

My ex.

Name one thing you absolutely can not stand.

Injustice.

Where do you spend most of your time?

Travelling around the country.

If you could fly, where would you go first?

To my parents.

What was the best vacation you’ve ever been on?

Spending summer holidays at my grandma’s.

Have you ever hit a squirrel when you were driving?

I don’t drive in the first place.

Did your car ever break down?

Yeah, on a motorway. The whole gear system fell out.

What’s your favorite thing to do on the weekend?

Chilling out and travels with my husband.

What radio station do you listen to most often?

Number stations. I don’t care about commercial radio, but I love signal identificzation and all oddities that occur through frequencies.

Pick one: Papa John’s, Dominoes, or Pizza Hut.

I don’t even know what Papa John’s is. I’d choose between Pizza Hut and Domino’s, but Pizza Hut has disappointed us recently.

What is the longest amount of time you’ve been awake?

16 hours recently, two days when I was younger.

What would you do if you found out the world was ending in one week?

I’d watch reruns the next day in case I overslept it.

Do scary movies make you paranoid when you watch them alone?

I don’t watch movies at all.

Name one thing you’ve lied about recently.

Checking the pantry.

What is the worst movie you’ve ever seen?

Every movie I’ve ever seen.

Who was the first person to ever give you flowers?

Probably Nielsje.

[cassiopeiagarcia]

Love.

Cass hated being told she was wrong, never admitting to it even if irrefutable facts were presented. But this was Vessel, and rules that were more like commandments for others, simply did not apply to him. Not when he called her love.

Quickened breath after breaking apart, arms still around his body, a smile on her lips at his words and at every secret that they had shared by the simple act of kissing, saying things that they, maybe, couldn't put into words. There was not a language able to express this level of devotion, this blind trust in the other person.

She thought about his question for a second, pursing her lips, simply raising and lowering her shoulders in response. Hércules would be okay with it. And Andro... well, Andro was a bit different, wasn't she? That she didn't exactly support Cass' choices when it came to dating wasn't really a surprise, it had been like this since the middle García sibling had fallen in love for the first time. But, she didn't actively oppose them either, so... 'I don't think they'd mind. And I certainly wouldn't.'

She'd never say no to spending more time with Vessel, even if that meant having her older sister shooting daggers in the backseat.

Which was exactly what happened when, the next day, they met with Vessel in one of the cars that would take them to the game arena. For some reason (my luck, Hércules claimed) the three of them had been sent to the same game, something that tended to occur more often than not and that made Cass think that, if there was a God or a deity upon them, they had done something to please Them. Maybe Sleep was watching, after all...

'It will go well.' Cass mentioned, on the way there, for the fourth or fifth time, tapping her nails on the surface of the window, as she watched the blurry shapes of abandoned buildings, forsaken cars, deserted roads, around them. 'I'm a Hearts player, Andro is Clubs and Hérc is Diamonds. There's nothing we can't win.'

Except Spades.

Waiting for both her siblings to leave the car so that she could say proper goodbyes to Vessel, Cass turned to the masked man when she was certain Hérc and Andro were far enough that they couldn't hear them. 'Andro is...' The raven-haired woman had been silent most of the time, only speaking to ask Vessel certain personal questions that were, certainly, inappropriate for a first or second meeting, ignoring Hércules attempts to shut her up. 'She's always like this. She'll warm up to you. She's just very protective.'

'Anyway,' a nervous smile, love in her dark brown eyes. She extended her hand to grab his, hoping to get stained; a reminder, a reason to come back, a way to take something of his with her to the game. 'I'll be back soon, yeah? Don't miss me too much.' A playful wink, even if what she wanted was to scream, and cry, and beg him not to let her go. Deadly afraid.

Cass put an end to the distance between them, giving Vessel a quick kiss, knowing if she deepened it, she wouldn't be able to leave. Gathering all the strength and courage she could, she left the vehicle, turning a few times to wave her hand in his direction, blow him a kiss.

Hoping he was looking.

Praying to come out alive.

Tomorrow or the day after. Vessel could swear his heart stopped beating for a second while he processed her words, but he kept his expression neutral, making a conscious effort not to clench his jaw, not to purse his lips. Was she really as unaffected as she looked? Lighthearted and carefree, full of confidence, full of life.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t offer to go with her, with them; he was already bending the rules as much as he could. He was so grateful that Cass wasn’t alone, that she’d be with her siblings and that they would help each other.  But what if they found themselves in one of those awful games where only one person survived? Vessel shuddered to think that. No, he had to have faith.

Vessel traced a finger down Cass’s cheek and lifted her chin slightly. ‘You’re right and you’re wrong, love.’ Love. Would she mind? He could call her goddess, muse, but still by any name, she would be his love. ‘You’re right because yes, you will come back.’ He leaned toward her, closing the distance between them, kissing her lips. Softly, at first, and then in a more demanding way meant to convey his fear and his faith in her safe return.

Seconds easily became minutes while they were lost in each other. Everything else faded, nothing else was as real as them. They broke apart agitated, out of breath.

‘But you’re wrong if you think I won’t notice each and every moment you’re not here.’ 

They chose to leave the rifle there, rather than risk breaking into the storage room again. If anyone found it, they would just blame a careless militant. 

As they made their way back to the main part of the resort, Vessel was busy thinking about what he could do. He would meet with the other Face Cards soon, he couldn’t do much in the way of asking anyone for help but perhaps he could listen in, find out what the next games would look like and how to clear them. That was something, he thought. But if Cass had to play so soon, there wouldn’t be time for this. Still, he couldn’t just wait at The Beach, he’d go mad.

‘Cass, would you mind if I drive you and your siblings to the game? Would they mind?’

[nepentheansea]

Late Night Confessions Part 1

© nepentheansea all works are my own and contain mature content!

premise: You can’t take it anymore; you have to tell Rafe what you really think about him.

Masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: none

Word count: 3.1k 

a/n: I’m kind of in love with this boy. ;) 

You had successfully snuck in and out of the Cameron’s house on many occasions before, and your successes had always come from entering through the front or the back door, but this time you thought, why not be crazy and go for the window. You had seen Rafe’s car in the driveway, alongside Topper’s, so you knew he was home. You made your way carefully along the roof, past three windows, until you crouched before Rafe’s room window.

You slid the window up and duck in, nearly tripping over your feet once they land on the wood floor, and knocking over a few objects that sat near the window. The sound of things clattering to the ground makes you stop. 

“What are you doing?” 

You turn around slowly, a grin forming on your face. Once you met his gaze a giggle left your lips. A grin forms on his face, as he looks you up and down.

“You do know that we have doors, yeah?” 

He throws his phone down onto his bed. The thought had occurred to you to use the door, like a normal person, but where was the fun in that?

“Yeah, I know but where is the fun in that, Rafe?” 

You nearly stumble into his bedside table as you try to situate yourself, smoothing the creases in your dress. You had a few drinks before you decided that Rafe Cameron’s house was where you wanted to be. 

That was usually the case, you often found yourself in his company when you had a few drinks. You had done your fair share of taking care of him all through high school when he would party a little too much, and now it was his turn to pay the favor back. He watches you carefully, smiling slightly when he notices your intoxicated state.

“Are you okay?” 

You look at the mess that you had created on the floor, and then back to him.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn’t want to go home, and I figured you would be home.” 

You gesture to the fact that he was indeed home like you had originally thought. You move closer to him, but stop and grab onto one of the posts of the bed, before the urge to fall overwhelmed you. Rafe shakes his head, a subtle laugh leaving his lips. He moves over to you, holding out his hand for you to take, when Topper walks in, knocking on the doorframe to announce his presence. His gaze falls to you, with a raised brow. 

“When did you get here?” 

The drink in his wavering hand was indication enough of his antics of the night. He stumbles into the room, plopping himself down on the edge of Rafe’s bed. He was drunk, worse than you were from the looks of it. It was definitely odd to see Rafe as the only sober one in the room for sure. 

“Just now.” you snort as if it was obvious to everyone. 

Topper looks at you, clear confusion on his face, as he brings the drink to his lips.

“I didn’t see you come in,” he states, looking at Rafe for some clarification. Rafe scoffs, 

“She climbed through the window, just now.” 

Rafe points towards the open window as if evidence was needed. Topper nods slowly,

“Oh.” he pauses “Did you invite her?” 

Topper was acting like you weren’t standing in front of him. It wasn’t like you needed an invite, you did this enough times to know that Rafe didn’t mind your unexpected appearances in the middle of the night. 

“No.” 

Rafe chuckles, and Topper grunts in response. As you watch Topper, you notice the sullen look on his face, and the question of why he was here, and with Rafe instead of Sarah crosses your mind. 

“Why are you here, Top? It’s like two am.” 

You ask, your tone sounding harsher than you intend as if the question didn’t stand for you as well. You were simply doing the same thing that Topper was, chilling with Rafe at two am. 

Rafe’s eyes widen as they shoot between you and Topper. He shakes his head gently as if telling you that ‘you shouldn’t have asked that.’ Topper’s breath grows heavy, and his face falls. He was about to get emotional, and you weren't sure if you wanted to listen to whatever it was that he was about to say. 

“Sarah dumped me.”

His voice quivers as he starts to cry. Yep, you definitely didn't want to know. When it came to Sarah and Topper’s drama, you just couldn’t handle it. However, you knew all about all of their problems. Rafe kept you well informed of it all, and you would both make wagers about where their relationship was headed next. This meant, however, that you won the latest wager, ‘Topper was going to get dumped.’ 

Rafe grips Topper's shoulder and squeezes it. 

“She doesn’t deserve you Top, she’s a bitch.” 

Topper sniffles and shoots a glare at Rafe. 

“Bro, she’s your sister. Don’t call her that.” 

Topper takes a sip of his drink while he blinks excessively. You weren’t sober when you had arrived, but watching Topper cry over Sarah was sobering you up. You try to stifle a giggle, as you watch him cry.

“Oh, that sucks.” 

You shrug, your brows raise as you look to Rafe, who also tries to hide a laugh. 

“Come on Top, let’s get you to bed.”

Topper groans and looks at Rafe.

“I should call her, tell her I'm sorry or something, right?” 

He reaches for his pocket, trying to find his phone. As amusing as it would be to see Topper call Sarah tonight, and cry to her about how sorry he was, you speak against it.

“No Topper, you should sleep and worry about it in the morning.” 

Rafe pulls Topper up, and takes the drink from his hand, setting it on the dresser. 

“Come on, you can sleep in the guest room, you're not driving anywhere.” 

Rafe pushes Topper out the door. He turns to you and tells you to stay put, and that he’ll be right back, before following Topper down the hall. 

You collapse onto the bed, kicking off your shoes in the process. The phone, resting uncomfortably under your shoulder, vibrates, and you reach for it. It was only an email, but the photo behind the notification was what intrigued you more. You clear the notification, and a picture of you, lying face down on your bed asleep, with your mouth hanging wide open, shines. You know for a fact that you hadn’t given consent for the photo to be taken, let alone for it to be used as a lock screen. In a way it was cute. Out of all of the things he could have used for a lock screen, he chose an embarrassing picture of his best friend. You were going to let it slide, but you were definitely going to say something about it. 

 What you assume is the guest bedroom door, shuts with a soft click. You toss Rafe’s phone onto the pillow next to you, as he walks in. Shutting the door behind him, he smiles at you lying comfortably on his bed.

“Topper asleep?” you ask. 

He sighs and gives a quick nod.

“Yeah, thank god.” 

He runs his fingers through his hair, and moves to the bed, sitting down next to you. 

“He actually showed up a few minutes before you decided to crawl through my window. He was blubbering about Sarah, and how he should have seen it coming.” He rolls his eyes.

“He was already a bit drunk, and then he pushed his way in and helped himself to a couple of beers.” He adds. 

You watch him run his hands over his face, and lies down, propping himself up with his arm. His loose hair fell to frame his face. He looks tired, and it dawns on you that it had to have been some time between two and three am. You felt a bit guilty for throwing yourself on him tonight, especially in the state you were in. It was clear that he needed sleep. 

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I should have asked before I showed up.” 

He shakes his head in disagreement.

“No, I was actually in the middle of texting you to see if you wanted to come over and chill when he showed up.” 

You smile at his confession. The last few months you had felt yourself living only for the moments that you spent with him. It was understandable considering he was your best friend, and you practically did everything together, but lately it had started to feel different. You started to feel jealous when he would hang out or talk to other girls, or when he would talk about the way one looked at a party. Your heart had begun to ache when you couldn’t see him, or when you would fight with him, but it was different than it used to be.

 You noticed your newfound feelings last week when Rafe had stumbled into your room at midnight, after yet another fight with his father. Drunk, miserable, slightly bloody, and in need of some comfort. He had fallen into your arms in tears, and you didn’t push him to tell you why. Instead, you cleaned him up, held him, and cuddled him until into the night raking your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. Seeing him in pain, wrapped up in your embrace, was when you knew that it was because of love. 

You were in love with him and watching him suffer told you everything you needed to know. You never wanted to see him hurt, and you hated it when he was. He deserved the world, and you wanted to be the one to give it to him. 

The problem was, in the nineteen years of being by his side, he had not once shown any interest in you that way. Telling him was a risk, you knew that. Telling him could result in him pulling away from you, in hopes of not hurting or rejecting you. The thing that was the scariest was if you did tell him, that he would feel the same. You had spent the week trying to decide what your next move would be, it was in fact what you had been doing all night. Working up the courage to tell him how you felt. You had come to that decision this evening, and when it came time to tell him, you chickened out and drank instead. 

Through a series of events, you had found that little push that you needed to tell him, and so you climbed through his window, with the intention to confess it all. Now was your time, but looking at him, being here with him, the risk was just too high. So you did what you always did when you were overthinking and were trying to get out of confrontation, change the subject. 

“Well, I’m flattered.” you pause, “So I want to point out that I won the wager.” 

You smirk at him, propping yourself up on your arm to mirror him. Rafe looks at you, objection resting on his features.

“Um no. The wager was that Sarah cheats on him.”

He pushes you, and you fall to your back with a laugh. 

“Well, we don’t know that she hasn’t, so as far as I’m concerned it’s pretty close and I think that we should call it.” 

You bite your lower lip, watching him consider your proposal on the matter.

“Well if we don’t know, then the wager is not over. I’ll have Wheezie find out when Sarah gets back from wherever she’s been staying.”  He scoffs. He moves closer to you, moving a few strands of hair that sat in your eyes. Even the smallest of gestures felt different now. They felt more personal, more intimate. 

You look at him, taking note of every small detail on his face. The subtle freckles, the smallest flecks of green in the sea of blue in his eyes, and even the softness of his lips, that seemed to be calling to you as he leans closer to you. You knew that your mind was playing tricks on you, allowing you to think that he was leaning in to kiss you. Telling you that his simple touches were more than just a friendly gesture. If it were real, you would lean in and kiss him, savor his every touch, but it wasn’t real. You let out an awkward laugh, anything to break the self-made tension. 

“What?” 

He raises his brow and you panic. You could tell him what you were thinking, but let’s be honest, you weren't going to. 

“Nothing, I was just thinking about the fact that you have a terrible photo of me as your lock screen.” You pause, “Why did you choose that picture?” 

He reaches for his phone, holding it over his face as he stares at the picture of you. There was something in the way that he stared at the picture that tugged at your heart. It was a look of pure adoration like the picture was his pride and joy. 

“What’s wrong with it? it‘s funny.” He chuckles, turning the screen so you could see it yet again. You looked like a mess in the picture and here he was admiring it like it was the cutest thing. 

“I look horrible!” you exclaim, pointing at the photo. “I’m a drunken mess, Rafe.” 

You cover your face with your hands, trying your best to hide the heat that was rushing to your face.

“Indeed, you are a mess.” he pauses, pulling your hands from your face with a grin plastered on his face. 

“And I’ll be honest, you don’t look the best but it’s still one of my favorite pics of you,”  he adds. 

You groan. 

“Speaking of being a mess, do you wanna tell me why you snuck in through my bedroom window, instead of using the front door, at,” He checks the time, “Two-forty in the morning, tipsy?” 

He waits for your response, one of his hands still holding onto yours. There it was again, the nervous laugh escaping your lips all too quickly. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, you have to tell him. You hoped that with the knowledge of you being tipsy, that he would write off your confession as a joke.

“Y/n?” 

You pray that the little bit of alcohol left in your system was going to be enough for you to get it all out. You open your eyes, and his expression was questioning.

“I love you.” you blurt out, eyes widening at him as he smiles. 

“I love you too, y/n” 

Rafe leans over you and kisses the top of your head, then crawls from the bed. He walks over to his dresser and pulls it open, searching through the folded clothes. You weren’t fully surprised with his response, you had hoped that he wouldn’t get the underlying meaning behind your words but it still hurt. You had told him you loved him before, just not in the way that you meant now. 

“Okay so why did you climb through the window though? You could have fallen.” 

He grabs a t-shirt and hands it to you, 

“Here, put that on.” 

You take the shirt from his hand, and he turns around. 

“Thanks.” 

You slip off your dress and replace it with the t-shirt, before giving him the okay. Rafe moves around the bed, and tucks you in, pulling up the blankets. 

“I don’t know, I was just being adventurous.” 

You smile and he shakes his head. 

“Hm, well next time maybe don’t be adventurous and use the door, yeah?”

He kisses your cheek and moves to get the light. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “I’ll do that.” 

A yawn leaves your lips and it hits you how tired you were. The lights flicker off and Rafe climbs into the bed beside you. You prop yourself up once more and watch him fiddle with his phone for a few moments.

“I’m in love with you, Rafe.” 

You clamp your mouth shut. Rafe stops, his eyes widening but never leaving his phone. You thought that you had said it so quietly that he couldn’t hear you, but you had. It was no longer a secret, he knew, so why didn’t it feel like a weight had lifted? Perhaps it was because of his sudden lack of movement in response. You were holding your breath as you swallowed hard. Shaking inside and trying to think of a worse possible situation to be in. He hadn’t moved, blinked, or even exhaled since the four forbidden words rushed out of your lips. 

You had ruined it, single handedly ruined the best thing that you had. Rafe’s silence was rejection enough, and no amount of alcohol was going to relinquish the pain that you were now feeling.

“What did you say?”

He slowly turns his head to look at you, locking his phone and setting it down. You couldn’t determine if his expression was more confusion or concern.

“Y/n?”

You sigh, your intoxicated state was now becoming your sobering downfall. You couldn’t take it back, it was out there. You didn’t say anything.

“Y/n, are you being serious? Do you really mean that?”

He searches your face for any sign that would tell him if you in fact meant it, or if you were merely drunk and spouting nonsense. 

You sigh, there was no point in lying now.

“Yes, Rafe I-”

Without warning Rafe grabs ahold of your face, and brings his lips to meet yours. Your mind was struggling to process the fact that Rafe Cameron was now kissing you. His lips were soft, just like you knew they would be. You had completely forgotten the fact that mere moments ago you were ready to crawl into a dark cave and die at the thought of losing your best friend. Here he was kissing you, making all of your worries fade, shattering them into pieces and turning them to dust. You bring your hand to frame the side of his face, as you pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Rafe’s tongue dances along your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you part your lips giving him just that. Kissing Rafe was everything you had wanted it to be, and if you could stop time and live in a single moment, you would choose now. 

Rafe pulls away from you, resting his head against yours, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

“It took you long enough.” he smirks. 

You scoff, and he kisses you again. 

“By the way, I’m in love with you too.” he whispers against your lips.  

[nctsworld]

reigniting

✩ mark x reader | dance au | enemies to lovers | car s*x | smut | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead​ idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.  

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.  

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[bakugohoex]

“it’s why i love you”

pairing: atsumu miya x gender neutral reader

cw: language, angst, jealous atsumu, crying, season 4 spoilers, fluff and kissing

word count: 3600+

a/n: @horseanon--simpforall for helping me decide an ending this is the fluff ending i planned so i hope everybody enjoys it

summary: in which you and atsumu progress through the years of your relationship with atsumu realising just how important you are to him after the loss at nationals

↞ back to haikyu!! masterlist

Atsumu Miya hated his brother, it wasn’t an avid hatred of enemies, it was a hatred that stemmed from jealousy. He didn’t know when his jealousy of Osamu came from, but he knows the many occasions where he had wanted to run away and leave his twin behind. It wasn’t till he was 6 when his memories came flooding in of how much he hated his brother.

October 5th was a day both he and his brother had celebrated unanimously, even with it only being their 6th birthday it was a special occasion for the twins. Their bright smiles and fondness of one another is what had marked both of them inviting their whole class to a gathering at their house.

Streamers and balloons cascaded throughout the living room as their parents had bought two separate cakes just for the occasion. Both having fought over which one they were getting, it was supposed to be a happy day, supposed to be their day that was shared with all of their friends.

Atsumu realised the reality of it as their friends cascaded through the door, the two boys smiling as they waited for the happy birthdays to come from their classes mouth. The sound of Osamu’s singular name as gifts got passed to the more reserved twin, Atsumu’s face faltering as he watched his alleged friends hug and talk to Osamu without a care for the other boy.

He wouldn’t have lied and say it wasn’t the first time he had cried over a feeling of invisibility, how the people both he and Osamu had invited had disregarded the boy. Osamu looked over to his twin seeing him always walking away outside, about to go to him but being stopped by his friends he shook his head knowing Atsumu would get over it.

It wasn’t till he realised you, you who was walking behind Atsumu with a cheery smile, following the boy with your sweet smile. “Atsumu, happy birthday,” you spoke cheerily as the boy turned around, tears always welling in his eyes as he watched you push the gift up to his face. “I got both you and Osamu a gift, I already gave him his, here’s yours.”

“I…” Atsumu could barely speak with the tears in his eyes, he had expected the birthday to be a let down after being forgotten on the day. Watching over Osamu's friends, they weren’t his, they looked through him as if he was a ghost.

But you, with that bright smile and glistening eyes, pushing the wrapped present towards him, “I got you both different things, my mum said I shouldn’t tell you that though.”

You laughed heartily as he took the gift in his hands, the only gift from his class and it had come from you, a girl he barely knew but had invited out of courtesy, “thank yer, I ‘ant wait to open it.”

“Come on, let's go play,” you put your hand out as he looked at it hesitantly, before taking your soft fingers. A burst of childish excitement came from between you both as he placed the gift with his mother, she had noticed it herself, needing to talk to Osamu after the party about what had happened.

But the happiness she saw on her son, the way his eyes had a different shine as you both went to play with other toys his family had gotten him, made her heart burst. “The cake you have looks really yummy, Atsumu,” he crashes his car into the one you were playing with as you giggle softly, crashing your car back at his.

Atsumu had many memories of the times he had been chosen second to his brother, but in all of them it seemed like you had always brought a smile on his face. It wasn’t like as a child he was annoying, it was just his personality never meshed with anybody’s other than yours. It’s why when he started Volleyball with Osamu it had been hard to mesh with others.

His constant complaining as he lied across your bed as you flicked through the movies you both were going to watch together became a constant occurrence throughout the years. He was always glad you had never forgotten him on his birthday, now spending all of them with you, you had always gotten the twins different presents which had always fuelled the child’s ego.

“The team still hates ma,” Atsumu spoke as he grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl that was between your crossed legs.

“That’s not something to be proud of,” you said already knowing how the team felt about Atsumu due to being a manager of the junior high team, “you just gotta be nice, Atsumu.”

“’am nice.”

“You’re nice to me and that’s only rarely, learn how to work with others, not everybody is gonna be amazing from the get-go, Atsumu.” You and Atsumu often spent time together, Osamu being easily able to make friends on the team whereas Atsumu was often seen as the one who pushed people to their limits.

It wasn’t like his words weren’t a consistent occurrence, throughout his Junior High, the boy kept at it, people often wondering how you had coped with him for so long. It wasn’t till the three of you joined Inarazaki that his hunger to play volleyball became more prevalent and his love for you remaining the same.

The many fights that occurred between the two boys had been often observed by the team, Suna encouraging it as Aran stayed on the sidelines. The call of your name as you rushed into the gym to pull the two boys apart, shouting at both of them for being idiots as you gave a scowl that would haunt them till their deaths.

It was at this moment, Atsumu realised how much you cared for him…but how much you cared for Osamu as well.

He sat in your room, his hair being an issue that you had consistently provoked him about as he thought about his feelings for you. He had a week before he was leaving for the All-Japan Youth, he remembered how fucking happy you had been smiling at him as he got told he was attending. A new type of happiness you had felt for the boy.

You had really stuck with him for all these years, the way that you had become manager of a disastrous team who was now going nationals. You walked into your room seeing Atsumu at your desk staring at the photos upon photos you had with everybody. One that caught his eye being at his 6th birthday, the day he had found his person.

“I still think your hair needs some of that purple shampoo,” you spoke as you chucked the pillow at him.

“Yer mean toner yer idiot,” he mumbled as his concentration was on the other photos you had. One of you and Osamu at the twins 17th a couple months ago, it made him feel almost sick at the look of it but going against being a cunt for a day he moved towards you.

You went over to him, standing in front of him as he was forced to look at your chest and hips in your school uniform, “what do you want for dinner? My parents went out tonight, we can go to yours or we can go out, maybe invite Osam…”

“No.” He was quick in his response as you shook your head in confusion, “we should get take ‘way.”

“Oh okay, we can ask Osamu and Suna if they wanna come round as well,” Atsumu didn’t think you saw his shift in mood at the mention of his twins name, why you were bringing his name so much up, he didn’t know.

“They ‘er busy,” he lied as you were looking through some food that you both could order.

You hummed as you went to get your phone, Atsumu didn’t realise how even though he had classed you as his best friend. The person that Osamu couldn’t have as his own, you were still friends with his twin, you still saw him everyday, it was something Atsumu couldn’t change, he just needed to handle it.

But as he stared at your wall of pictures, a week after leaving you with his twin, maybe you’d forget him or see Osamu to be so much better than he was. He heard you call his name from downstairs as he went down the steps overthinking about all the occurrences that could occur.

Atsumu had left you a week after, waving a goodbye as he took the train to Tokyo, agitated and frustrated at himself. He shouldn’t be jealous of you being friends with Osamu, it wasn’t like he liked you or anything. Of course he didn’t, you were his best friend, his person, the person he wanted to be with forever…as friends though.

The hellish week came to an end in which it felt like it had been a month without you, he wanted to meet you just before Friday practice had ended. That’s all he had wanted to do, hug you, hold you, it wasn’t like he didn’t think or text you the entire week.

Even with Nationals coming up in a week you replied quickly to the boy, calling him when he was free, but the unnerving feeling Atsumu had felt the entire week had become prevalent as he jogged out of the train. Running throughout the city as he reached the school, it wasn’t too late, and practice would be long around this time of the year.

He just wanted to see you, it was a different feeling but almost similar, the same hunger and want he had when playing volleyball was clearly prevalent as he went towards the gym doors. The sound of your chuckle as you spoke to his twin, “he’s coming back ‘ommorow.”

“Yeah I can’t wait to see him, I missed him a lot,” Osamu almost gagged at your words.

“I ‘ad peace the entire week, now it’s ruine’,” you playfully elbow his side as he shakes his head at your antics, “people wonde’ how yer friends with him.”

“He’s my best friend duh, there's no reason, he’s just there for me,” you smile as Kita comes towards you asking about something.

Atsumu had stayed where the doors were, listening in as he was scared to open the doors, you would never replace him, you had shown it yourself. As he stepped through the doors, his bag was still on his shoulder as the team turned to meet him. “Idiot, I would’ve come and met you,” you smiled happily as you walked towards him.

Your arms opened as he took them, hugging you tightly as he hid his face in your hair, “A hear’d yer were missing ma.”

“Oh shut it, I would never miss your piss head,” you chuckled as he went towards the team, going through the people he met at All Japan, significant people he had managed to piss off by the seams of it.

Atsumu kept an arm lazily around your shoulder the entire time he spoke, almost clinging onto you as you listened in happily. “So yer basically annoying everybody and not just us,” Osamu mumbled as he looked hungry from practice.

You chuckled as you agreed with Osamu’s words, “we should get food, we only have a week till nationals…” the boys looked disgruntled at your words until you continued, “...it's on me.”

“Then of course Y/n, you’re a sugar mommy,” Suna spoke as you rolled your eyes.

Atsumu watched you and the boys begin to gather your stuff, the big coat your mother had bought you a year ago across you as winter had come quickly.

As the team walked together, Atsumu’s arm stayed closer to yours as you both walked ahead, “did you miss me then?”

You looked up at the tall figure, his ears freezing as he remained silent on your comment, you nudged him lightly before hearing him, “I did, yer my…my best friend.”

“Well you’re my best friend as well, idiot,” you chuckle as you all went into the ramen store, the boys picking overly expensive toppings leaving you penniless at the end, “you all owe me.”

They laughed as they began to eat. You had sat beside Osamu as Atsumu was speaking to Aran about something. Osamu stuffing his face with the food as you rolled your eyes, “I’m not paying for seconds Osamu.”

“’re yer callin’ ma fat,” you chuckled as he continued to slurp at the food. Atsumu watched your interactions with his brother, he had learnt from his week away, learnt from his words that you both were best friends. That his brother who didn’t realise himself could take you away from him.

It was what Atsumu was going to live by, because he knew staring and watching as you got some of the Ramen up your nose that you were his person. It was what remained with him throughout the week, throughout the first game and into the second game of nationals.

With seeing you with the coach, the cheering that quietened down when his serve occurred, that even though his fans found him attractive but a cunt. You saw the real him, you saw through his perfect sets, and perfect serves, the real him.

The winner of everything you believed in, you had only become manager to control the twins, but maybe more of you wanted to spend time with Atsumu, watching do the thing he loved. But seeing who he really was, seeing how tense he was as you passed the bottles of water and towels, talking to the team to help lift their spirits.

Giving a reassuring look to Atsumu, maybe that’s why you teared up when the sound of the whistle was blown. Why even through the cheer team, Atsumu's eyes were felt with fury for not playing at his best, for not winning, for not being able to play in a real game for another couple of months.

Maybe that was why the pain of losing had been worse for him, maybe it's why seeing you hug his brother after losing had made him lash out at you, as you came up to him.

Atsumu’s teary eyes at the loss of the second match, the loss for the upperclassman as you tried to put your hand on his shoulder. He shrugged you away as you looked at him softly, “you did amazing Atsumu.”

“Stop it, a don’t fuckin’ need yer ta say that okay Y/n?”

You nodded softly as you sat beside him, as he leaned against the wall, “there wasn’t anything you could’ve done to win.”

“Y/n, just leave, please,” he hated himself, hated having you see him as weak.

“At…”

He grabbed your wrist, fury running through him as he spoke coldly, “leave Y/n, I don’t need this right now.”

He let go as he faced away from you, you looked down at him, leaving him to his own thoughts. Atsumu didn’t want you to truly leave, he wanted to cry, hug you, just feel you play with his hair as he sobbed. That’s all he wanted, but as you walked away going back to the team, patting Osamu and Suna on the shoulder, he felt jealous of them.

Felt jealous of Osamu for being able to profess his feelings so clearly, being able to be something he wasn’t. The train ride back to Hyoga was silent as the team remained quiet. You sat beside Kita who happily spoke about how proud he was and how he had high hopes for everybody. It was nice to hear but all you could think about was Atsumu and the growing jealousy and anger he was feeling.

It was late when the team arrived back home, the gym being open as you all piled out into the court, they all sat down as the coach had called out to come outside to have a word about how to lift morale to make the team feel as if the loss wasn’t their fault.

Atsumu had taken your departure as an opportunity to release his anger however, the way he did was directed towards his brother. Osamu, irritated by his brother's own insolence, talked about a topic many in the team had chosen to avoid.

“Yer can’t always blame yer issues on us, even Y/n knows that today wasn’t yer…” at the sound of your name Atsumu was ready to pounce to hurt his brother.

“Don’t yer ever talk about ‘er!”

“Or what?” Osamu threatened as he knew that speaking about you would lead to a different type of anger to fill through Atsumu.

Atsumu glared at his brother, “don’t fuckin’ talk about ‘er”

“Just because yer ‘ave a crush on ‘er, yer should ask ‘er what people say about yer and ‘er” It was common knowledge within the team that you were the one who faced the criticism the most by those in school. That a loss would be deflected onto you as you would not allow any of the team to be put down by people who meant nothing.

It was worse that the team knew the harsh words you had felt regarding Atsumu, about your relationship with the boy and how you could do better than him and he deserved someone exactly like him.

It was a secret that was supposed to stay hidden to protect the team but most already knew and it seemed worse to even bring it up. Kita was ready to calm the situation until Atsumu went to throw a punch at his brother.

At the sound of another fight, you looked at the coach who gestured for you to sort it out. Running into the gym you saw Suna taking videos of the fight as you grabbed a hold of Atsumu’s jacket collar, dragging him to stop as you glared at the two boys. “Who started this?”

You waited patiently as Suna snickered out Atsumu’s name, “let’s all start heading home, Atsumu stay down.”

He didn’t comment, instead staying on the ground as you went to Osamu telling him to tell his parents that Atsumu was with you. The man left as you went back over to Atsumu, “let’s talk about this.”

You sat down on the dirty gym floor, looking at the boy who looked in even more pain than before, “what…what do people say about us?”

“What do…”

“We all know, tell ma,” Atsumu looked away as he tried to hide the defeat and embarrassment he was feeling.

You knew what he meant from the single comment, looking down as you grabbed his hands softly

You knew what he meant from the single comment, looking down as you grabbed his hands softly, “I’m guessing you know that a lot of what your fans say comes through me,” he nods slowly, “a lot of hate I guess comes to you when you’re uncooperative”

You give a loud sharp breath as he finally looks up to meet your soft eyes, “do you remember when we first met?”

“Yeah…”

“I heard about the classes plan after you and Osamu had given the invites out, how they only wanted to go for Osamu and not give you a gift, I didn’t really understand why people were mean, but I just wanted you not to feel alone, i’ve never wanted you to feel like that again. So I took the heat, I took all the heat, and it became more to do with our relationship”

He tilted his head in confusion as he moved closer to you, knees touching as you touched his face softly, “they used to ask me why we were friends? That Osamu was the better twin and that Osamu, and I would be perfect together, that you were a dick and didn’t deserve friendship because you were always craving a win”

“Y/n…” his voice was soft, but you continued.

“I didn’t see it like that, I saw it as passion, you were and always will be my best friend, the twin i’d always want because you’re just passionate and it’s why I love you.”

His eyes shot wide as he heard your last words, the three words you had often spoken comically and to show the love of a friend. But as you tenderly touched his face, held him softly as he looked into your eyes, “yer should’ve told ma.”

“How could I let you take all that on? I see you playing professionally one day, I'm going to be the one to say that’s my best friend, that’s the man I fell in love with doing what he’s amazing at.”

“I love yer too,” he didn’t know what got into him as he heard the words, your glistening eyes as he held your cheek and captured your lips. He knelt up as he held your face in his hands, kissing you softly, all the jealousy, love, and anxiety he had been feeling had all fallen into place.

His soft lips against your own, tongue flicking inside as he glided across your own tongue, soft moans coming from your lips as even though he had lost the game today. He had won you; he had finally gotten what he had wanted, the jealousy and rage he had felt for his brother for having everything Atsumu had wanted. Had festered down to this, because Atsumu Miya had you and nobody was ever going to take that away from him  

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