#❀⊱⦃ ‘You and I know / How the heartaches come and they go / and the scars they’re leaving’⏤ {Rosa. (unovasrose)} ⦄⊰❀

[corvivale]

chiquitita by abba has such cecil and janice vibes . I can’t do this anymore I love them too much

[brucequeensteen]

so sensitive at the moment that chiquitita by abba is making me cry

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I liked your writing on reader having to get in between Wolverine and Deadpool all the time 😆 it made me think what it would be like if they were crushing on you and there is a rivalry between them. If you could write what they’d do to win your favor or what shenanigans that would come with it 😂 subtle or not

These two weren’t fond of sharing.

So when the other finds that they have similar feelings towards you, the outcome is never good.

They’re childish in a way where if either Logan or Wade was coincidentally standing too close to you, the other was bound to notice and make a scene out of it, all the while you wished you were anywhere else in that moment.

The pair couldn’t get along even if they bothered to try as sooner or later they’d end up stabbing each other just because the other one was breathing too loudly or just merely existing.

And yet their feelings towards you ends up causing Logan and Wade to butt heads more often, especially if you were constantly teaming up together, with you often being their meditator in all their conflicts.

Wade was more vocal and borderline flirty when it came to interacting with you, he would crack jokes, boop you on the nose or even playfully smack you on the ass just to hear your yelp in surprise and become all flustered.

‘Plush ass you’ve got there, babe! wouldn’t mind laying my head on it sometime and use it as a beautiful fluffy pillow.’ - Wade, skipping away.

Wade could be quite clingy at times so there would be moments where you can barely escape the guy as he hanging on your side like a koala bear.

You: Wade can you let go.

Wade: and let go of my emotional support person? *gasp* Do you want me to die?

You: well considering how fast you regenerate, you technically can’t die-

Wade: do you hate me? Do you think I’m clingy?

You: no- well yes but-

Wade: you hate me!

Wade can be dramatic and the only way to shut him up is to just let him be in close proximity of you and allow him to talk your ear off about how good a dog parents you’d be to Dogpool.

Dogpool is your weakness, you could never say no to Dogpool and Wade knows this like the back of his hand and will use this as leverage over wolverine.

After all It’s not like he has a version of himself that was an actual wolverine or maybe even a honey badger in yellow spandex. So Wade counts this as a win on his end.

Logan on the other hand would be more subtle with his approach, even though to Wade, Logan’s subtly was as an dopey cow standing in a field of grass with how the scruffier man tended to keep by your side protectively; so much so that he might as well start growling at every person who ever laid eyes on you in general.

He’s a guard dog of a man in every sense of the word but how that came to be was from a whole lot of trauma and loosing people he’s ever cared about, so needless to say he won’t act like he’s interested in you at first, his heart had been wounded about as much as his body has and even had the mental scars to prove it.

He’s lived a long life of pain, fighting, suffering and heartache. He’s not going to falter so easily until you did something that made him feel safe enough to fall for you.

Once he has however it was impossible to go about the mission without him always wanting to stand guard by your side when he sees someone he doesn’t fully trust, always using his body as a shield for your own as Logan knew he could handle much more punishment then you could. So he’d rather avoid you being grievously hurt by any means possible.

He’d probably scold you if you ever were hurt as he was afraid that he might loose you, yet his hands were gentle but firm as they worked to patch your wound so it’d heal properly.

Wolverine: you’re an idiot you know.

You: wow I really feel the love over here.

Wolverine: *huffs* you expect me to kiss your ass when what you did was reckless and could’ve killed you? *his hands linger on your own even long after he’s done patching you up as though committing your warmth to memory*

Logan is a secret softy who wouldn’t push you away if you were to ever fall asleep on him, he’d grumble but that’s about it.

He’d even toss you his jacket if you were to ever complain about being too cold or leave it somewhere for you to take yourself, again he’d act like he didn’t want you to but he actually did with how he almost smiled upon seeing you looking comfortable in his jacket.

Logan is evidently more subtle about his crush on you then Wade is, or so he’d likes to think but Wade can messily tell he’s smitten when he sees how Logan’s eyes were quick to follow you in a crowded room with protectiveness and adoration.

Wade: aww has our dear friend taken the stick out of your ass and you fell in love?

Logan: *growls* fuck off Wade.

Wade: *holds his hands to his lips and gasps* oh my gosh! You have! Me too!

Logan: *looks at him* you what?!

Wade: yeah cats out of the bag, I like them too wolvie. you’re not the only one to find them cute, how close minded of you seriously.

They can’t share to save their lives, I’ve mentioned this before but they genuinely can’t even if they tried because one is them was bound to get jealous and try to take you away from the other.

Wade: do you really want to be near me grumpy all the time? Yawn fest much.

You: stop riling him up, you’re making Logan mad. Why are you like this?

Wade: maybe because you deserve to be in the company of someone who isn’t still unhealthily hung up on his previous red headed lover.

Logan: you shut your fucking mouth.

Wade: see! He’s not denying it!

You: I’m going to go now. *leaves*

Logan: you should make full time fuck head your job.

Wade: and you should make full time teenage brooder in a full grown man’s body who still isn’t over his first breakup yours.

The shenanigans that would occur between these two would be headache inducing to say the least.

The constant fights that would break out between them that you’d have to break up.

The bickering over who gets to act like a couple with you on missions. They might even play rock, paper, scissors multiple times behind your back.

Wade probably tried to trip Logan up in front of you once but it backfired when Logan made Wade trip up instead as he puts a hand on your lower back and guided you away from the poor Merc with a mouthful of dirt.

[talesofesther]

I'll crawl home to her

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Tales of Aemond's love for you.

A/N: In Ewan's words; the only thing that can beat Aemond is love. If you like this story, you'll like my ongoing series too. ;)

Masterlist

Aemond loves you behind closed doors.

He loves you with the way his pinky hooks around yours under the tables, during supper and council meetings.

He loves you with subtle looks and barely there smiles across rooms filled with people where he can only see you.

He loves you when he comes back tasting of heartache and guilt, with raindrops or tears staining his cold skin and clothes clinging to his body. When he stumbles into your room whispering sins against your embrace only for you to kiss the words, kiss his cheeks, kiss his scar, kiss the tears away. He clings to your body, your nightgown nearly ripping with his desperation.

But it's alright, because there's only you and him and the soft light of the candles in your room. It's alright because you cradle his head, fingertips burying between wet silver locks. It's alright because you whisper forgiveness into his ears, even if he feels undeserving.

And maybe war is now inevitable, but for a fraction of a moment, Aemond feels entirely at peace.

He loves you when you watch him from afar and notice the stiffness of his shoulders, the tapping of his fingers on the table. And then you'll find an excuse to call his name and get him away from the crowds, asking for some help with something mundane. You lace your fingers together, loose and yet so present. You take a familiar route through a lone hallway, you open the doors to the library hidden away in the confines of the Keep, pull him in, and close it again.

Aemond falls to you, his forehead is leaning against yours, his eye is closed, and he can breathe. You feel like fresh air. He nuzzles his nose to yours before asking for a kiss, it's all timid and bashful, he's not sure how to love yet, all he knows is that he feels it, insistent and warm; all-consuming.

But you hold his cheeks, you guide him, you teach him. Your fingers are in his hair and your soft lips touch the corner of his mouth; all delicate and devoted, Aemond doesn't know what to do with this much love, he might crumble.

His hands are around you, all over, and he's almost afraid to hurt you; even if you promise time and time again that he could never. Aemond sighs against your lips, and it sounds a lot like; "I am yours."

He loves you because there is no need for words with you. When he holds himself back from going to you all day—between planning for a war he's fighting alone and hearing his own mother talk of him as if he were a monster—the arrival of the night feels like a reprieve. It's the moment he waits for the most, for he can lay down his armor.

Aemond walks by the garden, picking up a single blue flower. He hides it away as he walks to your chambers, no one needs to know—even if everyone already knows anyway. He gives you the blue flower, with pink on his cheeks; he feels like a young boy in love—perhaps he is.

You kiss him, sweet and soft and tasting like the blueberries you stole from the kitchen earlier. And Aemond could cry, because if he has you, he's not alone.

You're the one who takes off his eyepatch, and then his coat, and his pants, and pulls loose his hair—you brush your lips over his shoulders when you do it, and he knows no one could love him the way you do. There's nothing sexual about it even if you're the muse of all his desires. He simply lays with you in bed, his head on your chest, and you trace the outlines of his body as you speak about your day. There are goosebumps on his skin, and he loves to hear you speak, about anything and everything, it soothes his troubled soul.

It's quiet, and Aemond falls asleep with the feeling of you braiding his hair. It'll be a little curly in parts when morning comes. He never minds it.

And he loves you with the way he won't be able to speak the three words. But he'll trace and kiss them on your skin every single night. And you understand, because you always say them back.

He loves you because of the way you sometimes hold the tip of his fingers with yours behind your backs.

He loves you with the way he'll threaten death to anyone who looks at you wrong.

He loves you with the way he could burn the whole world and yet not let a single flame touch your skin.

He loves you because you'll kiss his lips even if he tastes of blood and war.

He loves you because you'll hold his pieces together when everyone else is trying to tear him apart.

He loves you because even in the darkest of days, you're always there in the end.

He loves you because even if you exchange nothing but glances when amidst other people, you'll embrace his very soul in private.

He loves you because you wait with bathed breath when he takes Vhagar to the skies, and never think twice about mounting on a horse to gallop towards the woods outside of King's Landing when you spot the dragon's large silhouette bringing him back.

You jump from the white horse, Aemond jumps from Vhagar, and you meet each other in the middle. He holds you close in a needy embrace, as if each minute could be the last. And when you pull back, you don't ask questions or make demands, you simply run your thumbs over his cheekbones and breathe easiness into his skin. The feeling of you is always like coming home.

Amidst a world of war, you're a safe haven.

He loves you because you are the one who taught him what love feels like.

Aemond loves you behind closed doors. Wholly, truly, passionately. And with all of him that no one else is allowed to see.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Aemond's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[meiieiri]

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

[earthtooz]

x : DON'T GO :*+ﾟ

in which: blade has always felt cold, but even more so without you.

warnings: 1.9k words, HURT/COMFORT with a sprinkle of angst, gn!reader who calls blade 'ren' once, mention of blood, ooc!vulnerable!blade, he's like a kicked puppy in this one

a/n: perhaps the most intimate piece i've wrote to date, this is nothing but pure yearning and longing on blade's behalf, and a nice fix-it fic with the most vulnerable i think blade could ever be. enjoy!!

in his new life, blade has always felt cold.

he is not spared from the constant feeling of goosebumps prickling his skin, not even for a second as the cold bites the tip of his fingers and sink their teeth into him to send shivers up his spine. but he has never felt colder than he does right now. 

your side of the bed is untouched, perfectly made, and devoid of any indication that you had been there. the blankets and mattress are cool to touch, with hardly any wrinkles in the sheets, and an ache declares itself home in blade’s chest.

the sun spills on his bare skin when he kicks the covers off, illuminating his scar-ridden chest as he gazes around the room, as if waiting for an sign that you were still here, and that he wasn’t too late. however, an immediate soreness tickles his throat that causes him to wince, serving as a reminder of the unpleasant discourse you had last night. 

it was hardly over anything of importance, but blade, a man of pride and relentlessness, had refused to back down, and you went to bed angry that night. he did too but woke regretful and cold under the covers, your warmth taken with you.

today was the day you had to leave for a mission, and although he knows you have a strict schedule to follow, he just wonders why you couldn’t have woken him up to say goodbye, especially after everything. 

he didn’t even get to say sorry or try to at least make amends. the swordsman only hopes you didn’t leave furious with him, and that you at least had something to eat before leaving.

to distract himself from the heartache, blade forgoes lying around and decides to start his day before the absence you left overwhelms him and the only thing his mind can do is think about you. 

not that he’s successful, because despite dedicating a monotonous afternoon of drilling sword techniques, the rampant thoughts about you did not decrease. rather, with each swing and sway of the cracked blade, his mind finds more and more to think about, with you at the epicentre of all of them.

it’s sometime around sunset when blade receives update on your status.

the swordsman is sat on a stone ledge, gold rays from the sun spilling on his skin as he waits for the sweat and fatigue to roll off. blade thinks of how you’d normally be seated nearby, watching him train to supply water and energy bars. although he never used to like the company or the doting, it doesn’t feel the same without you beside him, he misses you and wonders when you’ll return. 

“how long have you been here?” a raspy, female voice asks, breaking blade’s train of thoughts.

“since noon,” he responds merely. he doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s kafka talking to him.

“right. makes sense. i thought you’d be lonely since y/n’s gone.”

“need you remind me?” he huffs, voice teetering a threatening gruffness that would make ordinary people shudder, but does nothing to kafka.

“oh, spicy today, aren’t we?” she coos, ignoring the immense pressure radiating off blade effortlessly before taking a seat beside him. “what’s up? is there trouble in paradise?” a scoff comes from the swordsman. “i was only joking, did something really happen between you two?”

“none of your business.” 

kafka shrugs before her phone begins vibrating violently. when she reads the notifications, her face pulls the closest expression to concern that blade has ever seen her wear. 

“y/n got ambushed.”

his world freezes over.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the sunlight is gentle in blade’s eyes when he wakes up.

clothes are strewn on the floor, bedsheets are half off the bed, ceramics lie in pieces along the cracks of the planks, and despite the mess blade has made of your shared space, he is the most crumpled of them all. a kaleidoscope of volcanic anger, tsunamic worry, and mountainous yearning, the only place that has remained untouched by blade’s destructive touch is your side of the bed, lest your scent disappears. 

it’s been five days since anyone has received a live update from you, only hanging on to tracking notifications of your spaceship as any indication that you were fine. for the duration of it, nothing has been able to calm him, with kafka and silver wolf needing to stun him before he could do anything brash, like running off into the infinite cosmos to find you.

elio’s promises had never felt emptier, his constant claims of how you’d return very soon turning into dust in blade’s ears because how could he hold on to hope when you are alone amongst the stars? 

his texts are left delivered, but never read. in fact, it has been five days since your contact displayed to be online, and he finds himself staring at it in case that the circle will illuminate green, that you’ll give him some sort of update on your liveliness. 

so that you’ll see how sorry he is and all he wants for you is to return home. 

he doesn’t remember when he became so dependent, but perhaps this is another cruel punishment from fate with another inconceivable price of repentance.

for someone as unforgivable and despicable as blade to love means to mutilate the universe with aftershocks that tear through boundaries of what’s possible. for a man like blade to rebel, it means that the consequences will return tenfold.

and there is no crueller damnation than tearing you away from him. 

he turns on his side, arms reaching over to where you would normally lie, and dozes off again, feeling colder than ever.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

blade wakes up a second time. the sun is no longer the thing that awakens him, but rather, the sound of footsteps that echo outside the bedroom. disgruntled and still trying to gather his bearings, he shoots awake at the sound of your door opening.

you stand on the other side.

is this a dream?

“oh,” you breathe. you sound winded, caught off guard by the sight of your lover who stares at you like a bewildered deer. “i’m sorry, i didn’t think you would be here.”

he doesn’t say anything, just merely looks at you, unnervingly unresponsive.

you look miserable. fatigue clings to your skin like a second skin, your eyes lack the brightness they usually have, and you are, evidently, very battered and bruised, blood staining your ruined clothes. 

but you are like sunlight, and blade thinks he can breathe again. 

“i guess i’ll leave,” you murmur, interrupting blade’s momentary assessment.

“don’t.”

turning back around, the swordsman is now slowly stalking towards you, seemingly teleported from the bed to halfway across the room in the blink of an eye. 

“is something wrong?” you ask and he holds back a scoff from the irony of your question. he’s the one that should be asking that, not you. 

but yes, there is something wrong; you left him alone. you went somewhere he couldn’t and then made him feel helpless because he didn’t know whether or not you were going to come back, stranded in the cosmos forever. 

stopping before you, his hands gravitate upwards with the magnetic need to touch you, to ensure that you were real and not some figment of his hazy imagination. blade raises a hesitant hand to sit on the back of your neck and the frostiness of his fingertips causes a shiver to run up your spine. gently, he presses you for a pulse and visibly gulps when he finds it, suffocating you in the tense silence that has occupied the air (you’re real, and you’re okay, delivered back to him in one piece).

then, he looks at you with the saddest expression you have ever seen him wear before engulfing you in his embrace. the stellaron hunter is hesitant with his touch, hovering around you in fear of overstepping, for blade would never forgive himself if he were to scare you off again. 

because you’re finally back where he can reach, and he never wants you to leave. 

“ren?” you pause, gently wrapping your arms around his waist and closing the gap he left, meeting him halfway. the little action floods him with endless relief. “what’s the matter?”

he shakes his head against you and his hold tightens mercilessly, squeezing all air out of your lungs. 

“you had me worried,” he confesses, no louder than a whisper because otherwise he would crack under the weight of his own words. the constant fear that has plagued him for the last few days would finally break him and he’d be in shambles in your arms, making a mess of something gorgeous with something hideous. 

so instead, he will continue simply holding onto you where you are safe. in his arms, you cannot leave, you cannot go places that danger you, and you cannot break his heart and choke him with the emptiness of your presence.

“i’m sorry,” you say, rubbing his back and he tugs you closer. “i didn’t mean to worry you, everything jus-”

“-you left without saying goodbye.”

you’re silent and guilty, but so beautiful. “i thought you didn’t want to see me. we were pretty mean to each other before i left,” you say after a second of contemplation. “i didn’t know where we stood, i wasn’t sure if you still wanted me.”

whatever is left of his heart breaks, crumbling into shambles that ring at your feet. there are a multitude of things that blade wants to say, yet no words come to fruition, to his dismay. he wants to offer you the comfort and promises you want to hear, and he wants to express the overwhelming relief he feels, but he can’t, and he curses his own inability to be heartfelt. 

instead, his grip around you tightens, like you’ll slip away otherwise and have him search for you throughout the cosmos. 

“don’t do any of that again,” he pleads instead, hoping that you’ll understand. “i beg of you.”

“okay,” you breathe. “i won’t.”

“don’t leave like that,” he tugs at your ruined shirt, grasp gentle and careful in fear of scaring you away with the intensity of his emotions that are hanging on by a thread

“i wont.” 

“please don’t go.”

“i’m here, aren’t i?”

blade sighs, nodding. you smile at him and it feels like a warmth powerful enough to drive the cold away. 

“but first, i need a bath,” you murmur, placing your hands on his chest to push him away. “please, keep your distance, i’m pretty sure i reek.”

he doesn’t say anything and clearly doesn’t listen, because instead of letting go, he simply leads you to the bathroom without ever unwrapping his arms. soon, the bath begins to run, and the sound of water streaming down ceramic echoes off the tiles, but the warmth of your laughter and tired words overpower it. blade sits at the edge, nothing but an oversized shadow that watches as you relax in the water, frowning when he catches the frequent bruise or fresh scar. 

afterwards, you both stumble onto the bed (careful to avoid the mess that blade as made, which you scolded him for, and he listened dejectedly before promising to clean it all up), and blade reaches over to your side, chest warming when he finds your figure to tug close. 

you fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. your lover, on the other hand, stays awake for a few moments longer, simply trying to commit you to memory. 

“don’t go,” he repeats, tugging at your shirt as the evenness of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep.

he doesn’t feel cold anymore. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[gomu-fer]

Turmoil

Law x gn reader

Warnings: little fight between Law and reader but nothing crazy, sfw and fluff at the end, good ending, FEELINGS

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: In which you save Law’s life and he gets mad at you

Masterlist

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

The moonlight danced with the dark sea water, accompanying you in your office as your eyes struggled to stay focus on the paper work in front of you, it was hard to tell the time when you lived in a submarine, but your body knows its well past 2 am, begging for you to snuggle into bed and drift away

From the shadows behind your door emerged your Captain, looking as tired as you did, a brow arching in confusion

“What are you doing?” His low raspy tone makes you jump on your seat as your eyes open wide in his direction, before they roll in annoyance and your eyebrows furrow

“Doing the work that YOU assigned me, Captain” the tone of your answer lets Law know that you’re still mad at him

“Should’ve thought better before-“ suddenly, and surprisingly you interrupt his so re-used speech he had given you a million times over since that evening

“Oh give me a break!” You trow your pen on the table, slamming your hands before gifting him the nastiest look he had ever witness painted on your face

Some days ago, the Heart Pirates found themselves in yet another fight were things weren’t going well for their Captain. You were the crews strategists and whenever you were caught in situations like these you were always by Laws side, but this time he had made you promise to stay out of trouble for this one, which in all honesty had struck your pride. Everyone knew how relentless of a fighter you were, that’s why you had gained such a position in the crew, so being told to back up was like a punch in the stomach, specially coming from your trusted Captain

Trafalgar Law was a stubborn, stubborn man, and that sometimes got him in more trouble that he could handle, as the enemies arrow flew trough his direction and a sword was drawn to his heart, in a blink of an eye you jumped in to protect him, without a second thought

Nothing bad had happened to you, you had came out victorious with a couple of scars nothing out of the ordinary, so when you were met with Laws angry eyes, a long speech on why what you had done was absolutely stupid and a punishment, you were left puzzled, and humiliated in front of all of your crew mates

Since then, you had been locked in your office, getting the extra work the doctor had assigned you so that ‘you learn how to listen’ done, and avoiding any words and looks of his

“I saved you” you got up of your chair as you walked towards the frame of your Captain, he may tower over you, but that would not stop you

“You put your life on the line y/n-ya, that I don’t tolerate” he answers you with a stern voice, eyes examining your every expression

“I did what I did because I wanted to, you may be the one giving orders around here, but you do not get dictate when or how I die”

As you get closer, Trafalgar cannot help but start to feel that maybe he was being selfish, after all, you had given him the greatest of gifts

Knowing there’s someone out there that is willing to die for you, no questions asked

But at the same time, the mere thought of losing you because he couldn’t be up to the task of protecting you boiled his blood and made his stomach turn a million times over

“Then maybe, you shouldn’t have joined my crew in the first place” he blurts out, every single word hitting you like a venomous snake bite, your heart clenching at the thought of being unwanted

Your greatest fear

Suddenly your body language does a 180, your anger being replaced with what could only be perfectly described as heartache. Almost immediately the doctor regrets even stepping foot in your office, before he can say anything you’re already back on your seat

“Sorry Captain” the pain in both your voice and your face makes Law hurt, and panic, and regret, yet words fail to come out of his mouth… just when he needed them most

“Don’t stay up too late” is all he can say before closing the door behind him

Next days in the Polar Tang were a pain, Law had been quite more irritable around everyone, even snapping on poor Bepo. You were either locked away working or in your room and sometimes even skipping dinner just to not cross paths with the damn surgeon, and if you were unlucky enough to do so, you would turn away immediately

Everyone knew something was up between the two of you, Ikkaku and Penguin had showed up at your office asking if everything was ok. You decided to keep it to yourself, you knew if Law found out you’re talking about him behind his back, about personal matters? Yeah, you would be dead to him, and even when mad, you respected him

Shachi was send to dig around Law, but when your name crossed his lips the doctor immediately shot down the conversation, this confirming their suspicions

But then, you finished the damn paper work, and guess who was the one you needed to hand it to?

You tried to convince anyone else to deliver the papers to Laws office, but it seemed like everyone had catch up and found this as an opportunity for you to make up with him, frustrating you beyond comprehension. They had even got to Bepo first

“Sorry y/n, I was told to tell you to deliver it yourself” he offered you a sympathetic smile, afraid of your answer, you just sighed defeated and thanked him anyways

“Just go in and hand him the papers! That easy” Ikkakus voice rings in your head as you try to wash your nervousness away in front of Laws office. Hesitantly you knock on the door, feeling lightheaded at the mere touch of it

“Go away Shachi” the doctors muffled voice meets your ears, confused you answer with the tiniest “It’s me, Captain” After a pause that felt like it lasted a decade, thinking he may had shambles himself out of the office, you hear a “Come in” so you do

You enter the office slowly, almost as if you made any sudden moves you’ll get caught like a pray in the wild. Trafalgar is sitting at his desk, his hands fidgeting and eyes following your form

“I have the paper work you asked for” you stay pretty far away from the desk, fear written all over you making Law feel twice as worse as he had been feeling this past few days

“Thank you y/n-ya, just leave them here” his voice sounded softer, but this didn’t made you feel any less scared as you approached the desk, gaze fixated on the papers in your hand. As you positioned your hard wok on the desk Law makes the uncharacteristic decision to hold your wrist before you retrieved, a shock running through your whole body at the action

Law’s heart beats a million times per second as he finds the right words to approach the matter, maybe he should’ve thought about them before taking your hand, your soft skin touching his freezing him. You lock eyes for a second and finally Law understands everything he had done wrong, from being ungrateful, rude, harsh and just overall mistreating the person he cares for the most

He would rather being shot than admit he was in the wrong, but he knew if he didn’t he’ll lose you, which was the reason he had caused this mess in the first place, so he swallows his pride

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed at you in front of everyone, or made you do all this work and… saying those awful things”

The fear washes from your body as you hear his apology, something you never thought you’d witness in your life, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding since you stepped foot on the door, offering Law a genuine smile that made his heart fall to his feet

“It’s ok Captain”

“Law” he says, letting your hand go as his own insecurities disappear, thinking you were gonna bash at him after his apology

“Law” you parrot back, earning him another sweet smile of yours

“I just… didn’t wanted to lose you, I was so lost in that thought that I didn’t realize that’s exactly what I was doing” you had seemed to have pushed a button because he just couldn’t stop the thoughts that just fell directly to his tongue and overflow like a cascade out of his mouth

Laws eyes open wide as he sees you approach the other side of the desk, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders like the softest blanket, hugging him while he still sits on the chair, your head resting in top of his hat. The surgeon stays completely still, taken aback

“Thank you for apologizing Law, I really appreciate it” you whisper making his face bright red and his hands shake, the way your body weights over his makes his brain malfunction and his heart go wild

You let go and approach the door of the office, Law remaining completely broken and flushed in his seat

“See ya’ at dinner.. Law” you say his name mischievously, giggling after before you disappear

The Captain stays still for a while, alone in his office, thinking about everything being open about his thoughts and feelings had gained him, and how addicting his name sounded falling from your sweet lips

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

This came to me in a dream and wrote it in almost one sitting lmao, feel free to request anything you wanna read I am having so much fun writing his emo ass

Reblogs are appreciated ;)

[imloyaltoscoups]

i'm ready | yoon jeonghan

After seven long years, you finally find yourself in a place of true peace and contentment. The journey to this point hasn't been easy - the scars of heartbreak and betrayal ran deep, and it took time to heal and rebuild yourself.

But you did it. You persevered through the nightmares, finding strength in your own resilience and determination. With each passing day, you focused on your own growth and development, pouring your energy into your studies and your personal pursuits.

Completing your PhD was a milestone, a testament to your dedication and perseverance. It wasn't just an academic achievement: it was a symbol of your triumph over adversity, a tangible reminder of how far you've come since the pain of your past.

Along the way, you learned valuable lessons about self-love and self-care. You realized the importance of prioritizing your own needs and desires, of carving out space for yourself in a world that often demands so much of us.

The first years were undoubtedly the hardest. You struggled to find your footing, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the uncertainty of starting over. You were cautious with those who approached, wary of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt once again.

But with time, you learned to trust yourself again. You rediscovered your worth and your strength, and you refused to let the pain of your past define you. You learned to allocate love and care for yourself, recognizing that you are deserving of the same kindness and compassion that you so freely gave to others.

You pause mid-packing, taken aback by your friend's unexpected enthusiasm. They shake the ticket with excitement, their smile infectious despite your initial reluctance.

"Y/N!!! We're going to Koreaaaa!" they exclaim, their voice filled with enthusiasm.

You hesitate, the memories of your past trip to Korea still lingering in the corners of your mind. The thought of returning to the place where so much heartache had occurred fills you with a sense of apprehension.

But before you can voice your concerns, your friend speaks up again, their tone resolute. "You're okay now, right? So it's okay to visit that country again. And besides, who knows when we'll have the chance to see our friends first ever exhibit. If you're worried of bumping with that piece of shit. Don't worry—I'll give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even a punch and a chokeslam for good measure!... I should have been with you when you went there" she pouted.

Their words catch you off guard, but you can't help but laugh at their fierce loyalty. Despite your reservations, their unwavering support gives you a glimmer of courage.

"Alright," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "This is for our girl."

With a newfound sense of determination, you resume packing, knowing that this trip will be different from the last. Armed with the support of your friend and the strength you've gained from overcoming your past, you're ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And who knows? Maybe this time, Korea will hold new memories of joy and adventure, rather than pain and heartache.

As you arrive at the exhibit of your best friend, you're filled with a sense of pride and excitement. You rush forward and envelop her in a big hug, a smile spreading across your face.

"Congratulations queen, you did it!" you exclaim, squeezing her tightly. "I'm so proud of you for pursuing your dream of being an artist. Look at the crowd!"

She returns the hug with equal enthusiasm, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you guys. You two kept on pushing me to do this and here we are."

She then shows you around the exhibit, pointing out each piece with pride, you can't help but marvel at her talent and creativity. Each painting tells a story, a reflection of her passion and dedication to her craft.

As you admire her work, she offers you two a glass of champagne, a gesture of celebration for this momentous occasion.

"Cheers to you and your incredible talent," you say, raising your glass in a toast. "May your art continue to inspire and captivate audiences around the world."

She clinks her glass against yours, a wide smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, and cheers to our friendship. I'm so grateful to have you two by my side."

Together, you three sip your champagne and continue to explore the exhibit, basking in the joy of this special moment shared between friends. And as you revel in the beauty of her art and the warmth of her friendship, you know that this is a memory you'll cherish for years to come.

Time pass by and your best friend excuses herself to greet other visitors, you nod understandingly, letting her immerse herself in the moment. Beside you, your other friend suddenly excuses herself to rushed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone amidst the bustling gallery.

As you scroll through the gallery, admiring the artwork, a familiar voice calls out your name. You turn around and are surprised to see Jeonghan standing there, holding a glass of champagne. To your own surprise, you feel no shock or hurt at his presence. Instead, you feel a sense of calm and resolution.

"Hi," he says, his voice tentative as he approaches you. "How are you?"

You offer him a small smile. "I'm doing better than ever," you reply confidently. "I got my PhD and now I'm planning on doing my residency."

Jeonghan's eyes light up with genuine pride. "That's amazing," he says, offering his congratulations. "I always knew you would achieve great things."

You exchange conversation for a while, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, Jeonghan takes a deep breath and admits once again that he is truly sorry for the pain he caused in the past.

You nod, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. "I've forgiven you," you say simply.

His eyes widen with hope, and for a moment, you see the flicker of longing in his gaze. But before he can say anything else, a commotion interrupts the moment.

A little kid comes running towards you, calling you "mama." You glance down and see your baby boy, and you can't help but smile as you scoop him up into your arms.

"Where's Papa?" you ask, and just then, a voice responds—a man carrying your one-year-old daughter.

Jeonghan stands frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he takes in the sight of your family. You introduce your husband to him, and as you do, your baby boy innocently asks who the man you're talking to is.

"He's one of the singers mommy used to love," you reply gently, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Jeonghan introduces himself to your family, his emotions held back as he struggles to maintain his composure. But as the moment stretches on, you can see the glass in his hand trembling, a silent testament to the storm of emotions raging within him.

"Mama, can we look for Tatie?" your baby boy asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You smile down at him and give a nod. "Of course, sweetheart. Let's go find her," you reply, your heart swelling with love for your children.

Turning to Jeonghan, you offer a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you again," you say sincerely.

Your baby boy tugs at your hand, eager to leave. "Goodbye, Uncle!" he chirps before running off with your husband and daughter.

Jeonghan watches them go, his face a mixture of shock and sadness. You offer him a sympathetic smile before turning away to search for your best friend.

As you walk with your husband by your side, his arm wrapped around you protectively, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support and patience.

"Thank you for being so patient love," you murmur, pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

He smiles down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "You're very brave, you know that," he says simply, his voice filled with admiration.

You feel a surge of gratitude for the life you've built together, for the love and happiness that surrounds you. And as you continue to search for your best friends, you realize that maybe visiting Korea isn't so bad after all, especially when you have your family by your side.

In that moment, you realize that the greatest revenge you can provide to Jeonghan is finding your own happiness without him. And as you find your own people who cherish and support you, you know that you've already won.

part 1, part 2

....... ≿━━━━༺JEONGHAN༻━━━━≾ .......

[connorsui]

☆••Renewed Light•• ☆

Summary: Simon overcomes his past grief, finding solace and hope in the love of his wife, as they build a new, joyful life together.

Tags: only fluff, ( angst? In this house? ..nah )

A/N: this is unedited so I do warn you

Simon sat in the quiet of the living room, the faint glow of the late evening sun casting long shadows across the floor. The weight of years of loss and heartache seemed lighter somehow in this moment. His eyes drifted to the woman sitting across the room, (reader) , absorbed in the gentle task of reading a bedtime story to their son.

Watching her, he felt an unfamiliar sense of peace. She had come into his life during the darkest of times, and now, as he observed her, he saw how far he had come from those days of despair. Her laughter, gentle and warm, seemed to fill the room with a light that had been absent for too long.

When they first met, he hadn’t known what to expect. He was a man weighed down by grief and regret, carrying scars that ran deeper than he could ever explain. Yet, (reader), had seen through the layers he wore, reaching out to the person he was beneath the surface. Her understanding, her patience, and her unwavering support had slowly chipped away at the walls he had built around himself.

The love he felt for her was something he hadn’t thought possible again. It wasn’t just about the way she looked at him or the way she held him when the void was too dark. It was about trust, about knowing that someone saw him and accepted him completely. In her presence, Simon had found a reason to hope, a reason to believe in a future that once seemed impossible.

Now, their son was a living testament to that future—a bright, spirited reminder of the new life they had created together. Simon watched as (reader) gently tucked their boy into bed, her voice soothing and affectionate. She moved with a tenderness that spoke of a deep, abiding love, and Simon felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. It was a smile he hadn’t worn often in the past, but now it came more easily.

For the first time in a long while, he saw his reflection in their son’s eyes and realized that not everything had ended with their losses. Life had a way of evolving, and through the pain, he had found something beautiful. The darkness of the past had given way to a light that illuminated the path forward.

Simon knew that (reader) and their son were his reasons to move forward, to embrace life with all its uncertainties. As he sat there, taking in the scene of their family, he felt a deep gratitude for the woman who had given him a second chance at happiness. And in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter, he understood that life, despite its cruelties, still held the promise of a future worth living.

Rising from his seat, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around (reader) from behind. She looked up, surprise melting into a smile as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Let’s go to bed, luv,” he murmured, his voice low and tender.

He then reached out to gently brush his fingers through their son’s hair, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight” he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and love.

With a final, lingering look at the peaceful scene before him, Simon felt a profound sense of contentment. Together, they would face whatever came next, hand in hand, heart in heart.

✨️I could use some lemonade ✨️

[michellemisfit]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thanks for creating the game and for the tag @jrooc thanks for the tag @vintagelacerosette

Today we’re talking fandom. Come play!

Name and A03 handle: Michelle, michellemisfit

Current Location: Living room, surrounded by feathers, as I’m currently fletching some arrows

Favourite picrew: This one is pretty fucking spot on. Or at least it was at the time. Hair is very different now. But then, hair is always different… lol

Also this one is spiritually VERY me

What's one thing you want in a picrew? Ability to add coloured streaks! And a wide selection of scars, or alternatively the ability to move them around the screen. Either is fine. But mostly the hair thing. My hair is generally 4 different colours. Don’t try and limit me to one!!

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? Erm… 3 way tie between Mexico Gallacrafts, Fimo Gallavich, and Cookie Gallavich? Maybe? Argh. Turns out, looking back at my art tag… I’ve created some pretty cool stuff. Huh. Yay me.

Why is it your favourite? I don’t really do photography, and I’m really proud of the idea behind and the execution of that photo. And while I LOVE drawing more than anything, I don’t think I’m exceptional or anything. But I’m damn creative when it comes to silly 3D craft projects, so both Fimo Gallavich and Cookie Gallavich make me happy and feel like something not just anyone could do… I dunno.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? It was LONG to create. Both cookie and Fimo Gallavich took several days in total. And I think that’s the other thing I like about myself. I am willing to put in the work, and it usually pays off.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Hah! You’ll be able to corroborate this, I’m not just sucking up!! LOL I’m currently reading Camp is a Battlefield by @blue-disco-lights, @jrooc, and @mybrainismelted, with artwork by @creepkinginc, so that’s the last one I commented on :)

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I mean… every single WIP I have ever started reading, only to realise that maybe there won’t be any more of it… 😱 Every. Single. One. They’re all special, and they all hurt in their own special ways. And I will remain subscribed to all of them FOREVER, because you never know!!

Also? Comment on WIPs. Tell authors how much joy the story brought you, how much space it’s occupying in your brain, how much you would love to see it continue but how happy you are to have read as much of the story as there is because it’s changed your brain chemistry… do NOT comment saying ‘next chapter when?’, cause that makes you a dick bag.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I’m a sucker for fake dating, only one bed, and a soulmate AU 🤷🏽‍♂️

Least favourite? …not a huge fan of kid fic, but hey, all it takes is a great author to make it work.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? Again, do not kink shame, because you’re only ever one good fanfic away from discovering something about yourself you did NOT see coming…

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Exhausted and antsy. Is it good enough? Are people gonna like it? Should I even bother anyone with this? Why don’t I just go and hide under a rock forever?? I felt okay about this when I finished it, why is it suddenly the worst thing to have ever been created??? …I wish there was a sense of calm and accomplishment. There is not. Brains suck!

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: @deedala - I so appreciate how we’re on a similar wave length when it comes to art as well as ‘everybody wants to hunt me for sport’ vibes. I know I can always count on you for kind but honest words, and that’s so important!!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Read comfort fic. Probably Like Real People Do or None the Wiser.

Edit: Also? Go and read comments and tags on old art posts. That’s a sure fire way to cheer me up!

This was fun, and made the 15 minute wait between fletching each feather pass much faster. Thanks!!

If you are currently making your own arrows and need something to occupy your wait time with… how about completing a tag game? lol

@heymrspatel @loftec @creepkinginc @deedala @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @iandarling @iansw0rld @ian-galagher @mybrainismelted @palepinkgoat @crossmydna @mikhailoisbaby @sickness-health-all-that-shit @rereadanon @rutherinahobbit @energievie @junemermaid @francesrose3 @deathclassic @faejilly @rutherinahobbit @gallawitchxx @look-i-love-u @jessij1997 @callivich @celestialmickey @wehangout @doshiart @lynne-monstr @the-rat-wins @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued @sleepyfacetoughguy @spookygingerr @burninface @gallapiech

[neurospiczzzziee]

I had to draw my head cannon again of Fizz serenading Blitzø with ABBA music after the whole full moon fiasco. These besties need to have a heart to heart sleep over. The emotion I wanted to capture is Blitzø sad, but Fizz is so ridiculous that it causes him to start laughing. He's sad and heartbroken, but also so happy to have his best friend back with him to cheer him up. For once in his life he doesn't feel so alone.

Chiquitita Lyrics

Chiquitita, tell me what's wrong

You're enchained by your own sorrow

In your eyes there is no hope for tomorrow

How I hate to see you like this

There is no way you can deny it

I can see that you're oh so sad, so quiet

Chiquitita, tell me the truth

I'm a shoulder you can cry on

Your best friend, I'm the one you must rely on

You were always sure of yourself

Now I see you've broken a feather

I hope we can patch it up together

Chiquitita, you and I know

How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving

You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end

You will have no time for grieving

Chiquitita, you and I cry

But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you

Let me hear you sing once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

So the walls came tumbling down

And your love's a blown out candle

All is gone and it seems too hard to handle

Chiquitita, tell me the truth

There is no way you can deny it

I see that you're oh so sad, so quiet

Chiquitita, you and I know

How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving

You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end

You will have no time for grieving

Chiquitita, you and I cry

But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you

Let me hear you sing once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

[pricescigar]

What if Albert Wesker Survived?

Albert Wesker X Reader

No specific gender assigned all for everyone to enjoy 🖤

Suggested by: @adlerboi

Synopsis: What if Albert Wesker Survived after being "killed" By Chris and Sheva?

"I'm sorry Y/N. He's gone."

Getting over his death was the hardest thing, you screamed in denial, you cried, you bargained his workers to find his body. A body thst couldn't be found in a pit of lava. The acceptance... Was the hardest thing you had to face. You missed everything about him.

You missed his voice, smell, touch. How he touched your waist, neck, caress you. Kiss you. The subtle, sweet and loving touches, all that was felt in your heart was emptiness.

Sometimes this whole ordeal felt like a dream— It had to be right? Wesker faced many ordeals, and he always came back to you. Like how he did a couple months after raccoon City, time and time again. He always found his way back to you.

Not this time though.

He had put you in one of his hideouts, hiding you away so Chris wouldn't find you... Not your typical underground safehouse, better yet it was somewhere in the countryside in your home country, it was a nice little bungalow. He gave you a second chance, to forget about everything.

But it wasn't the same without Albert, you knew that. Or anyone else for that matter. Whatever he left behind it was for you, all of it. His money, his life's work all of it... But at what cost?

He promised you that he'd be safe. For all man kind he said, for a better world he said. Albert Wesker was a mastermind. Your mastermind, despite all what he had done, you were his and he was yours. Maybe a part of yourself knew the past was going to catch up to him, it was a matter of time before that thing even happened.

Chris was an old friend of yours, your best friend you knew from your childhood. Old friends reunited. Your time at S.T.A.R.S came to an end where you fell in love with Wesker, blinded by love, following him into the darkness...

Seeing him kill the one you love before you were taken sway by his men shattered you to the core. But he did his job at the end of the day, despite how angry you were.

Why did it have to be this way?

The same old question ran through your head many times a day, why did it had to be like this?

Wesker made you a promise he had a big "plan." To help man kind, not knowing the consequences down the line... That's where it all lead to into this final moment. His death.

The first night in your new home was harsh too. After Wesker's employees dropped you off with your belongings, the loneliness, heartache and greith struck you.

You had to start all over again. A new name, new identity, a fresh start is what he would've wanted for you. As long as you got our alive, that's all that ever mattered to Wesker. And you did. You survived it all.

1 1/2 later...

Things were gradually getting better, slowly but surely. All of Wesker's money, fortune was in your possession. Yet you still worked, depaite the luxuries you have, lounging around won't chance the second chance that was given to you.

Working at the local coffee shop was nice, simple, especially being in the countryside, you see the same people everyday. Given the odd occasional people who come down, dubbing their city geteays to be here in the lovely little country side. Life seemed to be getting better.

Another day at work was done, taking off your coat and bag of your shoulders ascyou walked in. The whole afternoon was in your hands now, what to do with it...

A sound In the it the interrupted your thoughts. Going over to the kitchen, your eyes laid onto a familiar figure. One, you always knew... Standing there in shock, you couldn't believe your eyes.

"Wesker?"

"My love, my lovely Y/N." Wesker spoke with the voice thar always made your knees weak, it was still him. But different, he still had the visible burnt scars from the lava. From his face, to his arm and legs.

He was alive.

"You...- I mean you're-"

Wesker didn't say anything and he immediately pulled you into a hug, one hand behind your head. And the other was around your waist.

Tears forming in your eyes, becoming watery. Falling doen your cheeks, his gloved hand wiped away the tears with his thumb.

"I'm sorry." Wesker said. "I'm so sorry... I should've listened to you." He confessed. "Wr should've left like we said." He cupped you cheeks with his hands.

"You left me alone." Your tone was cold, sniffling slightly. Cupping his cheek as well, gently caressing his cheek.

"I know..." Wesker mumbled. "And I'm not going anywhere now, I promise." He reassured you. And that's all you ever needed.

Wesker pulled you into a tighter hug resting his head on your shoulder. "I'll always come back to you, regardless. Forever and for always."

-

Admin note: Hello everyone! Sorry if this sicks, I've had a hard time writing lately. But I wirrten something small to get nervous back into it, short but bitter sweet at the same time 🖤

[paperstorm]

The argument/make-up in 2x04 is really one of my favourite Tarlos stories because I just love when conflict in fiction is the direct result of two people’s individual traumas bumping up against each other, rather than someone being a villain.

Both of them in this episode are coming from a place of having a large trauma in their past that the other doesn’t know all the details of. Carlos hasn’t told TK anything, at this point, about how his coming out went and how much pain he is in every single day because he feels like his parents don’t fully accept him being gay. He avoids the topic of his parents at Owen’s party when TK brings it up because he’s in a honeymoon phase with TK and he’s never had that before with anyone. He believes – like he says at the end when they make up – that he might never be able to have a real relationship. And he does likely know that at some point they’ll have to discuss his parents but he has never been as happy with anyone as he is with TK (insert season four context of he felt broken until the day they met) and he isn’t ready just yet for the dreamy bubble they’re in to be burst by reality.

So he deflects, in what will become a signature personality trait of Carlos’s – chronic avoidance and making jokes to get out of conversations he isn't ready to have. And then by accident they run into Gabriel and Andrea, and Carlos, still not ready to do this, panics and introduces TK as his friend. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but trauma, so he acts like he doesn’t understand why TK is upset and he makes a joke out of it. He’s been anxious this whole time about how TK, who is so out and loud and proud, is going to react when he finds out Carlos is still half in the closet, and this is the very reaction he was so afraid of and why he avoided it for so long.

None of it is done with malintent, it’s all self-preservation and learned coping mechanisms from things in his past that have left such deep scars, but TK doesn’t know that, so it hurts him anyway.

TK, meanwhile, is still pretty fresh off of getting his heart broken so badly that he tried to kill himself. He went to Austin in a truly horrendous state of pain and trauma and heartache. He wasn’t planning on meeting his soulmate so soon, he wasn’t ready to meet his soulmate because of how much his heart was still in tatters, which is why we get him being so wishy-washy in season one. By early season two he’s also very much in that honeymoon phase, but that doesn’t mean his wounds are fully healed yet. He asks Carlos about his parents, it feels implied in the party scene that it isn’t the first time he’s asking about them. He’s given Carlos the opportunity to have the conversation that they need to have, but Carlos has changed the subject.

Then they run into them. TK is so happy to meet them, and then so instantly crushed when Carlos introduces him as a friend. He’s upset all the way home, and Carlos – for reasons TK doesn’t understand yet – is acting like it’s not a big deal. TK storms out because that’s how he copes with things at this stage in his emotional development, and leaves some hurtful words for Carlos as a parting gift. Not a mature way to handle things, but in a later scene with Owen and Gwyn it’s revealed how hurt TK really is. “I wanted him to tell them who I was and what I mean to him,” TK says, all dejected. “Maybe he did. Maybe we are just friends.” Because Alex also told TK "I love you", and then cheated on him. TK’s lingering Alex trauma bubbles back up; fuck not again, not another man who says ‘I love you’ to my face but then hides me and doesn’t really want forever with me, even though that isn’t really what’s happening with Carlos.

If it wasn’t for Alex, TK probably wouldn’t have been half as upset by any of this and would have been more receptive to hearing an explanation, but Carlos doesn’t know that, so it hurts him anyway.

It’s just such good conflict. They’re both right, and they’re both wrong. They’re both operating from places of extreme hurt that isn’t the other person’s fault, and they’re both operating from places of not understanding the extent of what the other is going through. And in the scene where they make up you can see how much love there is and how much they both really want to understand the other better. It’s such a beautiful way to love someone, to say to each other “let me meet you where you are and love you the way you need to be loved, even if it’s different from how I need to be loved.”

[jogetsobsessed]

Hi! I saw your requests are open, I would like to request with paul with fem!reader if you're interested. Some agnst with paul's anger issues, like they argue and he lost it and hurt reader she's gonna have a scar like a reminder for it. But with fluff in the end?

It's okay if you don't want to, I give it a try! Have a lovely day/night!😊 (English not my first sorry if it doesn't make sense)

The car swerved across the faded yellow lines as more and more tears began to cloud your vision. The pain that was radiating across the left side of your body was paralyzed, and while all you wanted to do was curl into a ball underneath your covers and disappear from the world you knew you couldn't. You weren't really planning on bleeding out tonight. 

Blindly you turned off the road, tires rolling a bit to gain traction once they hit the gravel road. Low-hanging branches were narrowly missed as you charged up the driveway, praying that they wouldn't care about your car spraying gravel everywhere. 

Slowly you put the car into park, grimacing as your body minorly twisted. Heavy breaths left your lips as you gathered the strength to push the door open. You didn't know how long you were actually sitting there in your parked car because every second felt like a month. 

But you could make out the car door clicking open, feeling it softly pull away from where your body was slouched against it. Worried murmurs were all you could make out, as your own breathing was all you could hear in your cloudy eardrums. 

Your body was lifted from the seat, which was easy considering you were already curling into a ball and hadn't bothered to put a seatbelt on. The frigid skin you were pressed against was such a stark contrast from what you were used to being pulled against that it only added to the shock you were in. 

Concerned faces stared down at you, like patrons at a zoo. If you were competent you would have hated this, hating being looked at as weak. But now isn't the time for ego fragility. 

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

You woke up two days later. 

Laying in one of the Cullens guest rooms you slowly opened your eyes listening for the familiar sounds of the pack, only to be met with radio silence. You had been confused at first, but once you noticed your left arm bandaged everything slowly came rushing back to you. The physical pain of your newly stitched arm mashing with the emotional heartache that you were feeling was overwhelming. 

It was sometime around then when the Cullens made themselves known. The comforting presence of Esme and Alice soothed you slightly as you bit back the waterfalls of tears that no doubt would be released the second you stepped foot behind the solitude of your own home. 

You had to practically get down on your knees and beg Carlisle to let you leave, he wanted you to stay for observation but you needed to get out of there. 

He let you go on the condition that one of his children drive you home, Edward volunteering so Bella would be able to get you inside your house and help you settle in. 

“Y/N are you sure you are good to be by yourself? You can come back to mine, Charlie wouldn't mind”, she was genuine for once, it looked good on Bella. 

“Bell’s as much as I love your dilf of a father, I really just want to be alone”

Her laugh was soft and brought a smile to your face. The two of you hadn't always got along but the both of you realized along the way that having an ally in the girlfriends of supernatural beings club was beneficial. Different struggles took place, but she was easier to relate to than someone like Jessica. 

---------

Bella hadn't been gone for more than an hour when you heard the banging on your front door. Panic shot through you at first. You were lounging in your living room, your brain foggy from sleep and the pain medication Carslile had been kind enough to prescribe for you. 

You felt vulnerable, which was something that you weren't used to, since you normally had your protective presence around you.    

It wasn't stopping, only getting louder and more urgent. 

So in a great effort, you pulled yourself up from the couch, hobbling towards the door. Glancing through the peephole you saw the one person that could stop your breath every single time. 

Even when you thought you hated him, he still had the same effect on you. 

He heard the lock click and pushed the door open, barely giving you enough time to move out of the way. 

Instantly his arms were on yours, as he looked you over. He was visibly wincing at the sight of your heavily bandaged arm. 

“Why are you here Paul?”, the swooning effect was gone, and all the emotions that you had been harboring were coming forward. 

“God Y/N, I was coming to see you, there's no reason to be so hostile”. 

“Hostile, I am being hostile? Paul, I have every reason to be hostile. Last time we were in the same room it didn't exactly end well”, you yelled gesturing towards the bandage. 

He was at a loss for words. 

He opened his mouth and started to speak but nothing came out. 

You couldn't bear to look at him. The look of absolute regret and sadness was shattering your heart. His soft cries were the final straw for you. 

Collapsing on the couch you placed your head in your hands sobbing, shaking your entire body. 

No matter how much you had cried since the incident you still had so much emotion over it.  

He mirrors your actions, falling down next to you. 

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

“I don't know how I will ever make this up to you. It's not excusable, but I just don't know what came over me”. 

You knew that it wasn't excusable. He had come home and made an over-pack business. You had been cleaning the kitchen, completely minding your own business. But when he burst through the door, he made his business your business. 

You had asked him what was wrong and received no response. He stomped through the house and out the back door. Something came over you and you followed him. In hindsight, you don't know why you did. But once you got out back you saw him throwing stuff into the woods, clearly not caring about breaking anything. 

It was then that you yelled at him to knock it off and act like an adult, not a three-year-old throwing a tantrum. 

Within an instant you were lying on your back, the wind completely knocked out of your lungs. 

“Dr. Cullen said that it could have been worse. Only the upper portion is going to scare. He was able to stitch the lower part tightly enough”. 

“Y/N, every single day I am going to make this up to you if you let me. The scar… it's going to be a reminder that I have to try harder and that I have to be better”. 

“You have to prove it to me Paul. We are not going to just go back to how we are. We need to work past this. But I know we can”. 

“Thank you Y/N. I love you so much and please believe me that I will make it up to you”. 

-----------

There wasn't much fluff at the end, sorry. Let me know if you want a pt 2 potentially to get the full amount of fluff.

[pokophobia]

chiquitita, you and I know

how the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving ...

[hanilessa]

Loving you is pain and bliss

` Summary: Loving a person who suffered from unrequited love for another girl can be simply unbearable. You can say it with confidence.

` Childe x Fem!Reader

` Genre: roommates!au, angst, argument, happy ending

` Word Count: 1,2K

` Author’s notes: for you, dear @stxwpid!! i hope you like it ♡ enjoy!

likes, replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 my inbox is open for your requests! feel free to text me if you want to request headcanons or drabble. :3

This has gone on countless times. You have already lost count, each time wringing your fingers and biting your lips to small wounds, when you saw how Ajax returned home late at night, completely beaten, with dripping and clotted blood that was on his cheekbone.

Every time your heart contracts painfully when you see him in this state. Your hands are trembling, salty tears are trying to flow from your eyes, and your lips are trembling in the desire to scream. You want to hug him, comfort him, help him, take away all his physical and mental pain for yourself so that Childe can feel better at least for a second.

He leans against the wall, completely broken and tired. There is a crimson bruise under his eye, fresh blood dripping from his lips, falling on the soft white pile carpet, and you feel like you're gradually starting to go crazy. It's like a vicious circle from which neither Ajax nor you can get out.

Your hands are trembling, your throat is dry — you have the feeling that you're in the middle of the desert without a single drop of water. You timidly take a step closer to him. The ginger man takes a shaky breath and you can literally hear him swallow blood mixed with saliva, making his Adam's apple twitch.

Childe's eyes are closed, he breathes raggedly, and you can feel the pain he feels with your whole being, just looking at him with your big watery eyes.

"You got into a fight over her again?" You asked in a trembling voice as his blue eyes snapped open and met yours. He continued to breathe raggedly, squinting painfully from his wounds, and you understood everything without words.

Your heart was torn apart, but it didn't matter now because the first thing you had to do was take care of Ajax. About your beloved, beautiful Ajax, for which you woke up every day and dreamed about every night.

You will think about yourself later — you have long ceased to put yourself in the first place. But what else can a person, who loves, do if not to put the loved one first?

"Come on, your wounds need to be treated." You speak in a choked voice and gently take his hand, leading him to the bathroom. Childe doesn't resist and follows you, sniffing softly with his nose, smearing bright scarlet blood on his face.

You sat him on the washing machine, then turned to the locker to get medicine chest from there. Ajax leaned his head against the wall, and the dull sound of a blow made your heart clench painfully. Why was you the only person in this house who cared about his state?

With gentle movements, gentle hands, you wash the blood from his hands, forgetting how to breathe when you see the scars of past fights on his fists. You dip a small cotton into the disinfecting liquid and press the cotton wool against his scratches, slowly treating all of his wounds in silence.

He's breathing nervously and carefully watching your every move, you know that he's in pain, but the only thing you can do is to ease his physical pain. Ajax won't let you in on his heartache. When your eyes find his bloodied lips, you swallow hard.

There is blood on the skin of his lips. You gently run the cotton over the cut, hoping you're not pressing too hard on the cut. You continue to tend to his wounds in silence before Ajax's hoarse voice breaks it.

"Tell me, Y/n, why does it hurt so much?" You gasp when you feel this pain, doom and sadness in his voice. Childe pauses in anticipation of your answer, which you hesitate to give him, because you're afraid that you will burst into tears right now.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and ask in a trembling voice, "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry. I'm almost done treating your wounds."

You brushed the bloodied cotton from his lips, turning to medicine chest to get a band-aid. A medicine chest contained only children's band-aid, which Ajax had brought from home as a gift from his siblings. You took first dinosaur band-aid you could find and carefully glued it to the ginger man's lip.

"Why does it hurt so much? Always be one of many for her when she's the only one for me." He exhales, and you clench your hand into a fist, leaving crescent-shaped patterns on your skin.

It was unbearable. See how he suffered from unrequited love. Feel his suffering with every cell of your body, simultaneously writhing in the agony of your own unrequited feelings. Every time you see him come back after meeting the girl he loved, it was unbearable for you. Because every time after Childe returned, he cried or was injured.

The last conversation about this ended with the biggest argument. For the first time, you two — childhood friends — quarreled so much. You begged, you were ready to fall on your knees and ask him not to torture yourself anymore, not to go to the girl who only used Ajax's love, smearing his feelings on the floor like real trash.

Loving a man who loved another girl and whose feelings were razed to the ground was a huge burden for you. Even if he never returns your feelings, the only thing you wanted was for him to never suffer because of her again.

"It’s even harder to love someone who is the only one for you, knowing that you will never be the only one for him." You answered, raising your tear-stained eyes to him.

Ajax's heart fell on the heels as he saw tears streaming down your beautiful face. It felt so wrong, Childe was sure you were never supposed to cry. And he was the reason for your tears now. This fact, like a wild animal, devoured him from the inside.

"Please…" You sobbed, wiping away your tears with trembling hands. You felt so small and sad at that moment. "Please stop torturing your soul. Seeing you unhappy is what hurts me the most."

You covered your face, wet from tears, continuing to tremble and sob when you felt warm hugs. It seemed that Ajax didn't care at all about cuts and wounds, because the only thing he had to do now was calm you down.

"What a big idiot I was." The ginger man chuckled as you looked at him. His blue eyes shone with tenderness and warm that you loved so much. Ajax's words caught your attention. "Constantly hoping that the girl who did nothing but use me will return my feelings when you were next to me. Someone who really cares about me."

Your heart fluttered with happiness when you heard those words.

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long, but if you'd given me this chance, we could…" Childe didn't have time to finish his thought when you pulled him closer to you, connecting yours and his lips in a kiss.

A sense of relief spread throughout your body as Ajax hugged you back and deepened the kiss, marking the moment when your and his suffering was finally over.