#AND i get to look at my toxic girlfriend life really is worth living

[todayisafridaynight]

started replayin ishin just for tits and giggles and yall wont believe the part i stopped playin at ......

[majikkulu]

━━ ❝MASTERLIST❞

𓂃⋆.˚

i don’t usually do death readings, but this one feels special because one direction has always held a significant place in my heart. i’ve also been interested in conspiracy readings, so i thought i’d give it a try and see what comes thru. check out my liam's astro chart and his death analysis!

i truly hope this reading brings closure to those who need it. if you enjoyed it or have any questions, please feel free to let me know in the ask box!

it seems that liam payne was alone when this happened. he may have been isolated, keeping to himself while enjoying his success. he might have felt comfortable but still distanced from others. i get really detached energy from him. i’m unsure whether his girlfriend was with him the whole time, but i believe he was reflecting on his career and how far he’d come before his passing. despite his success, i feel he was lonely, unable to rely on others, which caused him to build walls around himself. liam likely struggled with asking for help when it was truly needed, and he may have neglected certain aspects of his life as a result. it seems that what happened was impulsive, a mistake that he didn’t fully understand the consequences of. it appears to have been a rash decision, not premeditated. i don’t think liam intended for it to end like this; rather, he may not have realized the dangers around him, leading to this tragic event. he was likely battling internal and external conflicts—possibly even arguing with someone before it happened. there was tension and conflict, both within himself and with others, which escalated leading to his final decision. it all unfolded so quickly that there was no time for him to react. i wonder if liam received some kind of message that triggered this event. something shifted suddenly, and it was out of his control. 

liam craved recognition and validation, but i feel he didn’t get the approval he desired. despite his efforts to maintain a successful and positive image, the pressure was overwhelming. this need for external validation might have contributed to his struggles. i believe liam may have been under the influence of substances at the time. while i’m not sure if he had addictions, he was likely struggling with unhealthy habits or toxic relationships. he may have been self-sabotaging and caught in a destructive mindset, feeling trapped in a cycle of poor choices and unhealthy relationships. there’s a sense of control—either from others or from his own demons—that made him feel suffocated. liam was frustrated, assessing his life and feeling dissatisfied with how slow things were progressing. he wondered if all his hard work was worth it, feeling unrewarded and underappreciated. he pushed himself too hard but gave up too soon when things didn’t pay off. it seems he received some information that shifted everything for him, playing a role in what happened. he may have learned something life-altering that caused his decision. he was obsessed with perfecting his craft and overworked himself, neglecting other parts of his life to the point of being consumed by it. he took on too much, refusing to slow down or ask for help. liam hoped for peace and healing, perhaps even looking for a way out. at some point, he became emotionally vulnerable, hoping things would change. but despite his faith, it wasn’t enough to protect him. ultimately, liam was carrying far too many burdens. he felt weighed down by responsibilities, exhausted emotionally, physically, and mentally. he was struggling to manage it all on his own, and it became too much. he felt he had no one to turn to, burdened by others’ expectations and trying to live up to an image that wasn’t truly him. ultimately, it seems he was just too mentally drained, and this was the only way out he saw.

[jvnluvr]

torn lies ; itoshi sae ♡

author’s note: i came up with a something on a whim today after my lovely follower @uvbnr21-killer requested so i'm sorry it took a bit. nobody saw the first post, i forgot to add tags so i deleted it and now am rewriting it. kaiser angst would hurt my soul, but sae fits this perfectly. i'm so nervous & scared because i never write angst so i hope this is okay.

itoshi sae couldn't, wouldn't and will never understand you. maybe that's why he keeps coming back into your life.

itoshi sae x f!reader

notes: foul language, implied toxic relationship, reader has anxiety and hand tremors, sae acts like he's innocent when he's not, ft. isagi and rin

"i understand. now say it with me, we're gonna be okay.”

that was the last lie itoshi sae could say to you.

how long had it been? with how busy your life had become, itoshi sae was just a distant thought in the back of your mind. a man you wished you had never met, never wanted, or never had been with. how could a man, even like him, be so heartless? you knew him, you knew that wasn't him, but that doesn't mean he was going to change.

as much as you could have dwelled upon it, cried about it, have gotten angry about it, and all these other complex emotions humans could feel, there was simply no point. itoshi sae has been long gone, and life had made other plans. you became a professional athlete, just like itoshi-. wait, you just said you would stop thinking about him.

see, that was the entire problem. taking the same career path of the man who was once yours just made you think about him more. your mind was tainted with the thought of sae. you couldn't keep living like this, life was already miserable as is. you couldn't go out in public without having to hide away like you were an embarrassment. nobody knew, but they knew. they knew from the way you would rarely come out in public anymore, the way cameras caught your hands tremoring trying to talk to interviewers.

…

"can't you just leave me the fuck alone?”

"i’m your girlfriend for fuck's sake! you can talk to me for 5 minutes a day if you're really that busy."

"yeah? 'know what, you aren't worth those 5 extra fucking minutes.

…

what came after that was more yelling, then it came to tears, and finally, you left what you had once called home, what you had once called your forever. you slammed an awakening in itoshi sae's face before you left, for good.

"[name]! tell us how you feel about the upcoming match." an interviewer asked, shoving the mic close to your lips. "i think it'll be good." you let out a very monotoned voice, signaling that your anxiety was starting to get worse again. "ah, please share some more thoughts with-"

"oh look! it's itoshi sae!! why is he here?" your eyes widened as you followed the voice, and it came from all across the area. " think she'll leave with us, thanks for your time." a smooth, yet deep voice replied near your ear before you were dragged away. you already knew who it was, so you looked back once last time, seeing the interviewer run off in the voice's direction.

"everyone is obsessed with him, it makes me sick." you sighed out, your breathing starting to get shallower. “thanks for dragging me out of there.” the man let you go, letting you sink to the ground and hug your knees. "stupid media people, forget them. how are you feeling?” isagi yoichi asked, crouching down to meet your pained eyes.

"'Il be fine, jus' hope this fuckin' tremors stop before i have to go on." your hands were burning. not because of the tremors, nor was it because of isagi. because every single thing you did reminded you of itoshi sae. you were more than just frustrated because of this, so you couldn't help but try and rip your hair out as your eyes watered.

"fuckin' asshole, how could he say that even 5 minutes for me was a waste of his time," you mumbled, not wanting to lose your composure in such a public place. "sae-san will never change, [name]. you deserve a lot better anyway. c'mon, the other guys are waiting for you." he held your hands as he helped you get up, but it was all mindless movement in your eyes. walking into the stadium, across the bleachers, everything felt blank.

itoshi sae is the worst.

how could he do such a thing?

was that really the sae you fell in love with?

no, he'll come back, right?

he didn't mean it.

whatever, fuck him anways.

an inner monologue with yourself that always bought you to shreds. what point was there in constantly being in a stage of denial when the evidence was right in your hollow eyes? you so desperately wished for your feelings to change, for your heart to not crave, desire, to want to love itoshi sae. but he always walked away. away from his friends, his family, from you.

"[name?] is it sae again?' itoshi rin snapped you out of your trance again. you blinked widely a couple times, before your tired eyes met rin's. '''t wouldn't usually be this bad, stupid fuckin' guy decided to waltz into here today." you grumbled to him, in which he sighed.

"sorry, [name.] even i don't know why he keeps coming back. it's best if you just ignore him though. sae doesn't actually care, we've seen."

yeah, itoshi sae doesn't care about you.

…

then why his is gaze so warm?

you're on the field, staring into the crowds of people when you see him. you could only manage a second of eye contact, but immediately you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

…

"don't do that."

"do what, [name]?"

"don't look at me like you still care.”

…

"good game out there today, [name]."

"you don't mean it. why are you back?" you could feel the tremors coming back, despite your best efforts to control them.

"tch, i'm not allowed to tell someone 'good job?"'

"should you fuckin' be allowed to break someone's heart? no! but ya did it anyway. now get out of my sight, stupid egoist." it's vicious, but it's also been long overdue.

[name], it's been so long, why are you still hung up-"

"you're an asshole who ruined my life, all because you're a narcissist, self-centered and close-minded. you want me to spell out more?"

for once, your voice stood against him.

his eyes widened, an unmistakable look in his eyes saying that he didn't expect that, not out of you.

and for the first time, you walked away from itoshi sae.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Perfectly Okay (Pt 2)

----

Roman settles into his new life, there's a few bumps along the way.

----

<- Previous | Ao3 |

----

Warnings: manipulative/toxic behaviour from an ex partner, threats of violence.

Pairings: platonic prinxiety, roman/orange

Word count: 2097

Notes:

I have had this fic sitting in my docs for soooo long and I honestly have no excuse for not finishing it sooner lol

Also my girlfriend says hi <3

----

After two days of radio silence during which Patton and Virgil graciously let him freeload in their spare bedroom, Roman’s soulmate called. 

He’d been sitting at the kitchen table, having just gotten back from the bank, where he was trying to see if he could get any money out of their account. The attempts had been fruitless and frustrating, but at least he’d been able to get started on opening a new account for himself. Virgil had been with him when the phone rang and Roman dropped it onto the table and stood up abruptly when he saw the ID. 

“You don’t have to answer it.” Virgil said over the deceptively cheery ringtone, “Whatever bullshit he has to say isn’t worth your energy.”

Roman took a deep breath as the phone rang out and almost immediately started ringing again, “I’m gonna see what he wants.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, knocking their shoulder against Roman’s, “I’m here for you, though, got it?”

Nodding, Roman answered the call and put it on speaker, his soulmate’s voice crackling through the phone made him flinch. 

“Roman, thank god!” His soulmate said, “I was so worried! Where the hell are you?”

Roman glanced at Virgil, who looked just as confused as he felt, “You were worried? Even after you kicked me out?”

“Jesus Christ Ro!” He said through the phone, “I didn’t actually mean it, idiot, I was gonna let you back in for god’s sake I didn’t expect you to run off somewhere!”

Frowning, Roman looked up at Virgil, who was glaring at the phone. They gestured across the room to the kitchen counter, where a stack of Patton’s cookbooks were still compressing his ruined notebook and crumpled pages, Roman made a face that was near distraught, before hardening with anger. 

“You- you destroyed my work, called me pathetic and childish, kicked me out and… still expected me to hang around?”

“Of course! You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?” He said, “I love you!”

“Really?” Roman said, taking a deep breath.

“Of course! Don’t you love me?” He said, sounding far more upset than Roman knew he really was, because Roman knew that tone. He stayed silent, because he knew any honest answer to that question would get him yelled at and really… When he looked at Virgil next to him, Roman really didn’t want to lie.

“What?” He asked, after a moment, “Don’t you?”

“You said it yourself,” Roman said, trying to keep his voice steady, “You’re not happy the universe gave you me as a soulmate, and- and I’m not happy that I got you either. So- so maybe we’d be better off apart.”

“Roman what- what the hell’s gotten into you?” He said, “You’re fucking delusional, I’m your soulmate. Who the hell else is gonna love you? Surely you know you’ll never get anywhere without me.”

Virgil put a hand onto his arm, Roman looked up at them with a look of what must be utter helplessness, Virgil looked back with a bright fire in their eyes, anger at his soulmate, anger on his behalf… Virgil cared about him, so did Patton, as the little guy hadn’t hesitated to make known despite barely knowing him. His parents might not care and Remus still hadn’t answered his calls, but… he wasn’t alone.

“I have people who care about me,” Roman said eventually, Virgil squeezed his arm, “I’m more worried about you, actually.”

“Who the fuck’s gonna want to put up with a little shit like you?” His soulmate asked, the anger clear in his voice. Virgil made a noise in the back of their throat that almost resembled a growl, “You have no money, nowhere to live-”

“People who aren’t jerks,” Roman fired back, cutting him off, “don’t call this number again.”

“Ro-” His soulmate started before Roman reached forward and pressed the button to end the call. 

“Oh god dude, you’re shaking,” Virgil said after a moment’s silence, their hand still on his arm “Do you… want me to get you anything? Like- a glass of water or a blanket or something?”

“No it’s… okay,” Roman said, trying to count in his head as he took breaths to calm the shaking, “I’ll be fine, just need a second.”

“M’kay,” Virgil nodded, “But I’m gonna go watch How to Train Your Dragon over here in the living room, if you want to join.”

Safe to say Roman was happy to curl up on the opposite corner of the couch to Virgil, wrapped in a blanket they had thrown at him for the next hour or so, letting his mind focus on the film he hadn’t watched for a few years now. Letting himself remember how brilliant the music is, how heartwarming the story. 

That was until his phone went off with another text and foolishly he reached over to check it, eyes widening when he saw the picture and attached message.

“Shit,” Roman said, unable to tear his eyes away from the photo his soulmate had sent: a haphazard heap of Roman’s things, dumped in the carpark of their apartment building. It wasn’t raining now, but the forecast said it would be later, and his stuff was in a prime location to be stolen by passersby anyway. It’s not like anyone would care. 

“What is it?” Virgil asked, turning to look at him instead of the screen. Roman sighed and just held out his phone, turning it so they could read the message, “What? “If you’re really not coming back, come get your shit - or else” the fuck?”

Roman took the phone back, zooming in on the picture, “That’s like- all the stuff I had in the apartment! All my clothes - and - and - Virgil I need to go get it.”

“He’s playing you,” Virgil said with a sigh, sitting up and waving his hand, “It’s like- he’s trying to get you back there so he can talk to you in person, the moment you get there he’ll show up and try to talk to you, cuz' you'd be much easier to manipulate in person when we're not there than over the phone.”

Roman frowned, the sick feeling in his stomach doubling at the thought of having to talk to him face to face, especially right now. 

“What am I supposed to do then?” Roman asked, voice weak, “Theres- theres stuff I care about in that pile of junk I can’t- I can’t just leave it Virge-”

“I’ll go,” Virgil said, sitting up properly on the sofa.

“Wait what- you will? But you hate confrontation-” Roman protested, sitting up as well and looking over at Virgil.

“Meh,” Virgil waved their hand, “I mean, I do, but I think I hate this guy even more, so I can do this.”

“...if you say so,” Roman said slowly, “Are you sure that’s ok?”

“Yeah Princey.” Shaking his head, Virgil stood up, placing the blanket back on the sofa before he picked up the remote and placed it down next to Roman.

“Wha-” 

“Watch the next one,” Virgil said, “I’ll be back before it ends, ‘kay?”

Roman nodded slowly, “Okay, um, I’ll text you the address.”

“Great, I’ll be back soon.”

—-

Virgil was pissed. 

No, pissed was an understatement, Virgil was fucking furious. They weren’t even sure they had ever been this mad, not even when their own parents had done the same goddamn thing to them six years ago. 

The feeling - of utter rage and bubbling anger - hadn’t abated even slightly by the time they pulled into the apartment complex. They didn’t even really care as they parked in one of the reserved spaces, they just needed to be quick enough to get Roman’s things before they were stolen and hopefully do it fast enough that Roman’s douchebag of a soulmate wouldn’t show up. Easy, right? Yes.

The dump of items was unmistakable, there was a lot of it, but not so much that Virgil wouldn’t be able to fit all of it into Patton’s car (he’d kindly leant it for this mission, since it was bigger) thank goodness. For a moment they thought about trying to sort it out - separate the clothes from the other belongings or something. In the end they just ended up grabbing as much as they could carry at once and bringing armfuls back to the car. They would help Roman sort it once they got back. For now he just had to get all of this packed up before….

“Hey - what the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

Oh look, that seething anger was back. Virgil flipped Roman’s soulmate the bird as he grabbed another armful of Roman’s stuff. 

“I’m talking to you!” He said, stomping over and snapping his fingers in Virgil’s face. For a moment they’re genuinely surprised that this guy had the nerve to call Roman childish, “What the hell are you doing with my shit?”

“Your shit?” Virgil asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible, “It was all dumped out here, I assumed it was free to take.”

“Well obviously it’s not - I’m waiting for someone to come collect it,” He huffed, crossing his arms. Virgil stared at him for a minute before they went back to gathering things. 

“So it’s not yours?” Virgil asked. Obviously they knew that, but part of them thought this guy might murder them if they let on to the fact that they knew Roman. 

“I- well - not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I’m waiting for someone to collect it, okay, so stop fucking stealing before I call the police on you.”

“You’re not going to call the police,” Virgil rolled their eyes, “Because what I’m doing isn’t illegal - you are the one throwing stuff in the street, obstructing the road and I have evidence of you being an abusive dick to your soulmate, so how about you shut up and leave me be?”

“You know Roman?” The bitch asked, crossing his arms.

“Yes,” Virgil said, “I’m collecting his things for him so he doesn’t have to deal with you and your bullshit.”

“How come I’ve never heard of you before?”

“Because you didn’t let Ro have friends,” Virgil raised an eyebrow, “If he’d told you about me you would’ve exploded on him, wouldn’t you?”

“Wha- no- I wouldn’t-”

“Liar,” Virgil rolled their eyes, putting one of the last bags into the back of their car.

“So why the hell isn’t Roman here himself, then? He had to send his lackeys?”

“He didn’t want to see you, so I offered,” Virgil said, walking past him to grab the last few things from the floor, “And I'm not his lackey - I’m his friend, though I doubt you’d know anything about friends, huh?”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Roman’s soulmate hissed. Virgil slammed the boot of their car shut and turned to lean on it. 

“My problem,” Virgil said, “Is that he’s cried over you multiple times, that he’s told me all of the god-awful shit you’ve done to him, that I was the one who had to rescue him in the rain after you kicked him out with literally fucking nothing, I am the one who had to watch him bandage his soulmark because he couldn’t bare to see it, my problem is that you are a shitty person and an even shitter soulmate-”

Virgil narrowly dodged the punch thrown at them. 

“If you’re gonna assault me I’m gonna have to call the police-” They said, already pulling out their phone, “And usually I don’t like cops, but seeing your ass arrested for assault when Roman was too scared to call them ‘cause he knew damn well they wouldn’t listen to him, I think would bring me quite a bit of joy.”

“Assault- holy shit you’re insane,” Roman’s soulmate said, but to his credit he did actually back off with Virgil’s threat. Virgil just rolled their eyes. 

“Don’t ever try to threaten Roman ever again,” Virgil said harshly, before turning around. Getting into their car and driving away. They watched Roman’s soulmate have a mini-tantrum in the rear mirror and grinned - that bitch absolutely deserved not getting his way. 

—- 

Virgil was shaking when they got back to the house as the adrenaline of the confrontation finally caught up to them, but when they brought the first few bags of stuff into the house and Roman looked up and started beaming, before rushing over to wrap them in the tightest hug they'd ever experienced, practically lifting them off of their feet as Roman uttered thank you after thank you…

Virgil couldn't even fathom regretting a thing. 

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmealdaydreams @littlerat2 @goldnskyart @virgeandhis-pocket-protector (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[risingwiththeheatabove]

A Little Honey - Chapter 2 - Dirty Dancing

Pairing: Josh X Reader

Series list

Warnings for series: 18+, Alcoholism, toxic parents, domestic abuse, drug use, alcohol use, explicit sexual content, NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, blood kink, praise kink, daddy kink, and probably so much more that I am forgetting

Word Count 1.7K

It has been a week since your evening with the boys and their girlfriends. Nora has not stopped pressuring you to reach out to Josh.

“Have you text him yet?” Nora asks as she walks in from finishing her dinner shift.

“Hello to you too!” You glare at her, not wanting to have this conversation for the 5th time this week.

“He clearly is interested!”

“You have said that every day this week.”

“Because its true and you are being stupid!”

You roll your eyes at her while you go back to reading your book on the couch. You notice as she walks into your room. She normally goes in your room but never for very long. She is in there for a few minutes when you realize your phone is on your night stand charging. SHIT. You jump up and run into your room. It is too late. She has your phone in hand and she is clearly typing something out.

“GIVE IT!” You yell as you jump up trying to reach the phone she now has placed up in the air.

“Just one second.” You see her press send. She hands the phone back to you.

To Josh

Hey, My sister and I are going bowling tomorrow night. You and your brothers should join us! Bring the girls too! ;)

“NORA! What the fuck?! You had no right to do that!” You throw the phone on the nightstand and then throw your self on the bed. You scream into your pillows.

“You deserve a good guy after…”

“Don’t say it!” You cut her off before she can say his name.

“I won’t, I just want you to be happy!”

“I am happy! With my life here with you! I don’t need some guy to ruin that!”

“What if he doesn’t ruin it Y/N?”

“He is a rockstar! There is only one way this can go and its south!” You throw your head back into your pillow.

“Live a little!” Nora all but yells.

You hear your phone ping.

You both look at each other, rushing to beat the other one to the phone. You grab it first.

From Josh

Hey, I was starting to think I wasn’t going to hear from you. That sounds really nice actually. I will get everyone together and we will meet you there. I look forward to kicking your ass! ;)

You hand the phone to Nora to read.

“Ahhhh! This is so exciting.” She runs off to her room pleased with herself.

The next day comes around and you have not spoken to Nora. You are not mad per-say but you are also not thrilled that she thinks you need a man in your life. You have a great life together. A life you both love. A peaceful life. Why would you risk it for some guy? But this isn’t just some guy. This is Josh fucking Kiszka. Maybe he is worth risking a little for?

Josh had recommended you all meet at their Favorite bowling alley. Insisting it will be more private and fun.

You get ready wearing your hair down and a little more make- up than you had on during you last interaction. You wore a pair of black disco pants with a olive green corset body suit with black lace detailing. You paired in with black Chelsea boots.

You walked out of your room to find Nora.

“Hot damn mama!” She said fanning herself with her hand.

“I figured this would make an impression!”

“It surely will!”

Nora had on a simple pair of high waisted mom jeans with a black belt. She paired it with a square neck white t-shirt and simple black strapped heels.

You decide to Uber to the bowling alley since neither of you felt like being the DD for the night. You get there and see the group piling out of a white jeep. Nora and you can not help but laugh at the site in front of you. It looks like a clown car unloading. It appeared Sammy was even made to ride in the trunk. Nora and you go inside while you wait for them to come and find you. You find the bar and ordered two beers to share with Nora. As you walk back up to her you notice the group walking in the front door. Everyone is dressed similarly to how they were the first time you had met them. All but josh. He had on a yellow embroidered jump suit that left little to the imagination. You caught his eye as he came through the door. You waved and bit your lip unknowingly. Josh tipped his head back and licked his lips as he walked towards you.

“Y/N!” Sam said cheerfully grabbing you up in a hug.

“Hi Sam!” You managed to spit out as he squeezed you.

He set you down and let you say hello to the rest of the group. You gave hugs to everyone. Leaving Josh last.

“You started without me?” Josh asks pointing to your beer.

“You better catch up!” You say taking a sip and shooting him a wink.

He grabs you up into a hug and quickly throwing you over his shoulder to walk down to their reserved lane. With his hand holding just below your ass you attempt to wiggle down but no such luck. “Josh put me down!” You plea half heartedly. He caries you all the way to the lane and sets you down in a seat.

“What size shoe do you wear?” He asks

You tell him your shoe size and he walks up to the counter to grab shoes for himself and you. Nora runs up while he is occupied. Sitting next to you she giggles and nudges you. You nudge her back, trying to not smile too big.

“Thank you for making me do this.” You tell her.

“Your happiness is thanks enough.” She hugs you and runs to grab her shoes.

Everyone joins you at your lane and begins lacing up their bowling shoes. A collection of bowling balls form at the ball return.

“Do you need help?” Josh asks you.

“I think she can put her own damn shoes on Josh.” Jake said teasing his brother.

“Everyone tell me what you want your name to be!” Sammy yells as he sits at the operator screen.

“Oliver Reed” Jake said.

“Captain Jita ” Jita said.

“Dan the Man” Danny said.

“Hannah Banana” Hannah said.

“Nora the Destroya” Nora said.

“Samisgoingtolose” Josh said.

“Joshisgoingtolose” Sam said.

“Alright that just leaves you Y/N!”

“Honey.” Josh said to Sam.

“Honey it is!” Sam typed it in and the game began.

You were last so you waited while everyone else went. Josh sat down next to you on the bench. You push his knee with yours. He steadied your knee with his hand. Resting his fingers over your knee cap.

“Alright Josh! Your up!” Nora said turning around to realize what she interrupted. “Sorry.” She mouthed at you defensively.

Josh flashed you a quick wink before hurling the ball down and getting a strike. No matter how many times he winked at you, it still made you weak each time.

“Beat that!” He said as he sat back down next to you.

You leaned over him to set your beer behind his head. Your chest resting in front of his face and your mouth next to his ear, “Oh I intend to.” You whisper. You walk up and get a strike as well. You grab your beer from behind Josh before sitting back down. Josh rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he grinned. You play through the game and by the last round you and Josh are tied for first.

“Y/N you have to beat him! Please! I am begging you!” Danny said knowing Josh would talk about his victory for weeks after.

“Hey! Whose side are you on Danny?” Josh asked as he let out a chuckle.

Josh was up next and you knew you had to do something to distract him. Repeating the same motion as you did earlier you grabbed your empty beer from behind his head, leaning over him. But this time you bit at his ear lobe gently and whispered into it asking “Do you need a beer?” You could see him squirming underneath you. You get up to dispose of your empty bottle, when Danny calls Josh to take his turn. You watch as he tries to adjust himself as he stands. Noting his jumpsuit fits a little tighter now. He gets a spare on this turn. He sits back down quickly trying to hide his growing bugle. You grab your ball and for the sake of teasing him a little more you bend over sticking your ass out while you walk up the the lane. Another strike.

“Wooohooo!” Sammy and Danny yell in unison.

Everyone congratulates you on a good game. You walk back up to the bar to get a round of beers for everyone. Nora follows you to help carry them.

“So for someone who doesn’t and I quote ‘need a man to ruin her life’ you sure are teasing poor Josh.” Nora playfully comments.

“Didn’t you say and I quote ‘live a little’?” You pop back laughing. You drop the beers off at the table and tell Nora you are going to find the bathroom. You are looking for the bathroom when you run into Josh.

“It seems like we are playing dirty tonight, aren’t we Honey?” Josh speaks lightly as he steps closer to you.

“Do you like it dirty?” You whisper back.

He grabs you by your hips and pushes you against the wall. His head in the crook of your neck. You can feel his breath on your skin. You press your hips forward slightly and he pushes you in further to the wall with his hands.

“You are going to be fun to have around.” He speaks right into your ear. Pulling away from you just a quickly as it started. You watch him walk back to the group. You collect yourself in the bathroom and head back out. Unaware of how far this game would go between the two of you.

[hetalia-club]

I just have to spill my thoughts here for a second about my personal life for my own sanity. feel free to happily ignore and scroll by.

Good news everyone :D I just dumped my toxic emotionally abusive boyfriend. Terrible News everyone! :DDDD He was also my best friend and childhood best friend so isn't that great!? :)))

We were supposed to go to Sicily together in May...Why did I DO THAT!? I spent 2k on my plane ticket...the room is reserved... Do I like just not go to Italy now? Do I say F it and just go by myself? Do I try and quickly beg someone else to go with me who's okay with spending at least 2k on a plane ticket? Which would be no one in my life, maybe my parents would but idk what they got going on. I really wanted to go. Why could I have like just not waited until after that? We share a friend group and they are all more his friends than mine. So I just like isolated myself for no reason.

Sorry to dump this here and no I don't expect any of you to have the answers or do anything with this information.

These past few weeks for me have been really rough and I just made it somehow worse.

He distanced me from all my former friends who have all like moved on and have families and whatever and who I have not spoken to in five years so all I have right now is my family and work 'friends' I don't even like. I'm going to have to live with my parents for who knows how long because it was his house he had all the money in our relationship. He convinced me to quit my good desk job with benefits to work part time as a barista so I could clean his house and cook for him. But he also put up with all my weirdness and was fine with it.

Like when I say I have no idea what to do I truly mean that.

again I don't want anyone to feel responsible to do something about how I royalty screwed up my life. It's no ones fault. I shouldn't have let him isolate me so much from my friends and former life but TOO LATE NOW! I just need to stop being with men who have brown hair and brown eyes but are objectively terrible.

My only silver lining is that I was the one to end it. Which if anything am proud of myself for that because I have never broken up with anyone before and I normally just deal with whatever people do to me no matter how terrible and mean they are. I just have always forgiven him and everyone else.

But when some dude bro sits you down and asks you to "List reasons why you deserved to be loved by him" it was just too much. Like that might seem petty but I am sick of being the 'pretty girlfriend' I am so tired of having to dress to the 9s to go out and be expected to be perfect even if we're just going to a F*ng dive bar where I get stared out for dressing like I'm going to a club. Where he gets to look like a diarrhea stain who can't be bothered to wear a shirt that's not wrinkled or shave his scraggly beard. Why he thinks I should make a list of MY worth as a human being in his eyes. When he is average at best!? Like I'm not a 10 I'm not perfect I'm not delusional, I don't think I'm the hottest girl in the world or gods gift to man kind. But I'm out of his league, I do know that!

I always tend to cling to Hetalia harder when my life is falling apart around me because that's sort of just what I've done since I was a teen. I've never been in a healthy relationship with someone who actually likes me and Hetalia has always been there for me. Which is why I have been making a lot of content lately, it's been a distraction and I'm sorry if I've been bugging people with how much I've been posting. That's not been my intentions its just my coping mechanism and it's better than drinking...

This is the only social media I have that he's not on. I don't hate him enough to block him. I do still want to try and be his friend at some point if that's possible. I love his family and they love me and it's going to be so upsetting to see them again from a different perspective.

I'm okay...It's just been really rough lately...And I somehow just made it worse.(No I'm not going to hurt myself or anyone, don't even worry about that.)

[bubbleonice]

Matty Healer and new girlfriend:

I took a traditional tarotcard spread for this reading. I must admit, I don’t know who this Gabriella is, and this makes it a little difficult for me to connect to her energy. But let’s give it a try anyways.

Current situation:

8 of pentacles: The Eight of Pentacles is a card of apprenticeship and mastery. When this card appears in a Tarot reading, you are working hard to improve your skills and become a master at what you do. There is a possibility that there will be a lot of things that you need to address. Hard work is essential. loving someone is like cultivating a skill. It requires ever increasing amounts of empathy, compassion, patience and also curiosity and the desire for self-improvement.

It shows that you’re aware that this will require a lot of focus and dedication, but you are ready to put in the hours and pay attention to the details. It is good to be ambitious and career-focused, but it is the personal relationships with family, friends, and others that we love that make life worth living. Make it a point to spend time with your spouse, even when duty calls.

What the future holds?:

Strength reversed: In its shadow form, Strength Reversed can signal that you are prone to explosive behavior, lashing out at others and becoming aggressive. You may act without thinking and end up doing something you regret later. The key is not to repress the raw emotion, but to learn how to channel it so it won’t harm others or yourself. Maybe someone is being toxic or abusive here. You are in a situation where you have limited influence over behaviour. A lack of self-confidence, impatience, or difficulty managing emotions might be causing problems.

What are her feelings at the moment?

Ace of wands reversed: uninspired or unmotivated. At this point of your life, you might not know what you really want to do. short-term passionate love affair, lack of excitement in love. Not very promising is it?

What are his feelings?

Queen of cups reversed: Reversed, the Queen of Cups denotes a woman or feminine mature person who might be too sensitive, needy, or clingy. She might not have empathy for others because she gets caught up in being selfish. That is what he feels about her. Not a good place to start a romance is it?

Where does she see this relationship going?

Ace of pentacles: A financial fresh start, new possibilities, new employment, new ventures, cash, investments, savings, prosperity, comfy, everything you want or wonder about will come true. Is she a goldgigger? I don’t know. Does he have a lot of money? I don’t know that either. But the cards seem to indicate she is in for the money and material things.

Where does he see this relationship going?

The Emperor: The Emperor is a good omen of monogamy and a long lasting relationship. If you have been experiencing relationship problems they begin to improve and stability will return to the relationship. He seems to want to find stable love, but combined with the Queen of reversed he recieved, I don’t think she is the one. He wants a stable relationship for himself. And he is constantly looking and searching for love.

How I interpet the cards:

I think he is experincing some kind of panic not to be able to find love, so he is constantly looking and trying too hard. She is in for this because she wants something out of it. And I think he is seeing through that already. This is probably a very shortlived relationship.

I hope you enjoy this reading. And please keep in mind that this is done for entertainment purposes only. I use tarotcards and oracle cards actively in my readings, as well as my intuition. Energies come and go, what is relevant for today’s reading might change in a few weeks time. But some aspects will always remain constant and the same. Thank you.❤️

[hyperdemona]

Hi, could you talk more about how you got out of christianity? I’m struggling with it as a radfem and lesbian which has caused me to internalize so so much homophobia and misogyny. I guess my main concern is about that god being the “one true god” and about revelations. There are some guys (wendigoon for example) who say that god has been helping women at that time (one that comes to mind is Leviticus 27:6, where god supposedly set a women’s value lower so it would be easier to reach because they were given little to no money back then). Honestly I’m still struggling with this whole religion and faith thing, I’ve gone back and forth dozens of times and I just want it to end.

For me, it went like this - I didn't just "leave" Christianity, I matured away from it once I left for grad school. It couldn't have happened anyway.

I was raised in a very traditional South Indian Christian home. I grew up reading the Bible, especially the Old Testament, which I found myself reading a lot as a young girl because my parents couldn't always buy me books, and I was a kid who loved to read. By age 9-10, I'd read most of the Old Testament, and I remember the extremely misogynistic laws of Deutoronomy and Leviticus often incensed me. It's odd that as a young girl, I recognised the sexism in religion and religious texts much more than I would in my teenage and young adult days. I don't think I am the only one either, this is very likely a female experience, as young, unhindered, children we have a much clearer view of the misogyny of religion, but we grow up to accept it as the truth by adolescence and adulthood, unless circumstances arise that make us start to question it. This was how it was for me. All the guilt and insecurity of adolescence and the repression of Malayali culture made me "turn to Jesus" and start taking my faith very seriously, to the point of OCD. I also loved conspiracy theories and stuff like Rapture theology and Young Earth theory, which I read about in the American Evangelical and right-wing websites I trawled from my home in Kerala. I was hooked on that shit. Things got better in my late teens as I stopped spending as much time on religious shit and went to college, but it wasn't until I was 22-23 that I really looked back faced all of that head-on and started realising that I didn't need any of it, and moreover, it's doing me a lot of harm, as well as making me a hypocrite.

Once you realise that there is no way Christianity (or any religion) is true, you just get used to the idea of there not being a God. You also realise that you were right as a child - God and religion are extremely sexist, and are intentionally so. Patriarchal religion is designed to function as a system of mental slavery for women. Getting us to accept it will make us more compliant in a male-supremacist society. Everything that you do - be it reading a book that opens your eyes and mind to women's rights and realities, spending a nice afternoon with your girlfriend and having sex with her because you love her, getting an education, bettering yourself, making a nice life worth living for yourself, perhaps with a wife or gf, all of that you do DESPITE what the Bible tells you to. This shitty religion will never accept you or let you be happy, and that's because it's not for you, it was made for the benefit of your future husband (which it says you are supposed to have btw and shame if you don't). At some point you gotta rid yourself of this toxicity and walk away.

Also the "One true God" is a flaccid clown who's always cartoonishly angry and vengeful because of various unreasonable things. Women don't need religion, religion needs women, to silently comply with it. The God of the Bible for me is really starting to look, speak, and act like an abusive, entitled husband trying to claim ownership of things he never created. I don't think he created shit, he's merely a liar, and an imaginary construct of male religion to usurp women's role in creating and bringing forth life. Religions are always anti-reality and doesn't accept natural phenomena like homosexuality, or especially death. It reflects male nature, men can't accept death because they can't create life like we can. So they try making up stories where a male God created everything, while all God does is claim that he created things that already existed in the Universe. Just like men claim the ownership of children that women birthed.

There is no God, prophet, or Messiah that will survive if women refuse to believe. If we walk out they gonna freak out lmaooo. Try it, and get your girlfriends, daughters, and female friends and relatives to try it too. ;)

[addictivepsychology]

Day 106

What a week it’s been

A storm, everything is a mess,

But somehow clean,

And better than before, ready to grow,

I really appreciate all my friends and support through everything, I can’t do life without you,

You all are how I live without going crazy,

Jed,

We went to dinner and drinks,

Shot some pool and I actually beat you in some games,

You’re amazing but out of practice,

We talked about our past lives and current ones,

About my emotions and about

Your non existent ones

I was previously in love with a diagnosed psychopath

Without knowing it,

He says I knew him at the worst time in his life,

He said he isn’t the same person

And will never be that rude again

He says he is surprised a suck around abcs that he said some weird things,

That the previous “soulmate” was toxic,

And that I should’ve at least felt wanted by him, but I hadn’t,

He said he loved me,

That I’m one of his favorite people,

That in another reality we would be married for life,

The closure is so sweet,

I knew that I knew you so much more than you’d known,

You say you should’ve trusted my words, but you were

Paranoid

I love you and always will

You said you loved me as we hugged outside of the bar,

I’m glad you’re better,

I’m glad you feel better

And healed

The chapter can somewhat close and I can have peace on it,

It wasn’t me,

It was you

It was always you

Work takes up so much of my life

And I barely even enjoy it

It feels useless

But it won’t be on my resume,

Head teacher,

It sounds so good,

But worth so little compared to my sanity

You texted me this morning, saying

Your day is yours, it’ll be great, sending good vibes,

But sometimes I need to vent and cuss and get it out

I don’t always need positivity

And I know you’re not all rainbows and sunshine inside either

I always felt it was kind of a front,

Even just to you,

You say your phone service is shut off and you’re looking for an hourly job

“I’m not in the best place to date right now. I love all your love and support, but I don’t want to drag you down.”

As much as I wanted to say it’s fine

It’s not fine

It is too much on my plate right now

You need to get your emotions and your life in order before adding anything else

I’m sorry

But I’m not anxious anymore, trying to figure how I feel or what to do about you

You were trying to reach out and see how I’d respond

I’m sorry I didn’t respond how you wanted

But I’m not sorry

I think you were surprised as well since you didn’t text back

But you also need to be honest with yourself

Fully honest

And feel everything without reservation

So that chapter is closed

We haven’t been able to talk much it kind of sucks

When I go to bed, you’re waking up,

When I go to work, you get off work then

By the time I get home, you’re sleeping ,

Our window to talk seems to close on me work days

Vacation was so nice

And I feel bad if you feel I’m being distant

But you say you’re just here for me wherever I am

And I’ve never done that before

So it feels kind of odd giving away things without knowing what you look like

But the freedom is also freeing

Princess,

What a whirlwind,

You got a hotel for us next weekend and I’m so exited

I can’t remember the last time a man planned something for me

They usually don’t

I usually have to do the work,

Maybe I’m meeting the wrong men

Are you a right one

I’m so excited to see you,

We talk on the phone for hours every time,

I just got home at 3am, hungover

I went out with 2 of my girlfriends and we drank

And laughed and danced

I love them so much

I’m so grateful

I’ll buy a ring tomorrow

We will see

It’s so cold, but who’s more frozen,

I can’t wait to eat tomorrow, I’m so hungry

As usual,

But hungry is a good feeling, it means I’ll stay skinny

The alcohol helps so much

But I would never depend on it,

I love being sober

My mornings are so peaceful when I’m sober,

But I won’t get that tomorrow sadly,

Maybe we will,

I can’t wait to see Mari tomorrow,

She will help me shop

I’m drunk

And I love you all for the support and love you’ve given me,

I wouldn’t be here without you

[band--psycho]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader-If Only You Didn’t Have To Forget

Written for the amazing @sweeterthanthis! Congratulations on hitting such a huge milestone! You totally deserve it!🥳  my prompt was ~You’re beautiful to me because you’re human. Your frailty. Your short years. Your heart. All that suddenly seems more precious than anything I’ve ever known~ (Find it in bold)

I also paired it with this request from @devilsbooksworld

I hope you all enjoy this!💛

TVD Masterlist / Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

Warnings: Toxic relationship, mentions of death, hints of depression

“We’re done, Sean…” Y/n said, desperately trying to keep herself together as she walked away from the man she’d spent years loving.

“You can’t be serious!” Sean shouted, running after her. He grabbed her by the hand roughly, pulling her back to him.

“I can’t be serious? I walked into that party to see your tongue down some random girls throat!” She retorted back, her throat burning as the words left her mouth, her eyes lingering on the corner of his mouth where the red lipstick stain from the other girl was. The rage in Sean’s eyes was undeniable as he moved closer towards her, “I was drunk and if you’d come with me like I asked I would’ve been kissing you instead!” He seethed, his grip on her hand growing tighter.

“That’s such a fucked up thing to think let alone say! I’m your-” with a quivering breath Y/n corrected herself, “I was your girlfriend, that’s not something you do when you’re in a relationship with someone!”

Somehow she’d found the strength to pull out of his tight grip. As she pulled away she saw her ring fall from her hand but at that moment she didn’t care. There were too many emotions filling her head. She wanted to slap him, shout at him, make him feel how he’d made her feel. But as she looked at him, she realised everything her friends had told her about him was true. She’d stood up for him so many times but now she was done. He wasn’t worth it. She needed to get away from him, so with that thought in mind she made her way away from him.

“Where are you going?” Sean shouted after her.

“Home” Y/n replied bluntly, her pace increasing as she heard his footsteps following after her.

“Yknow, no one else is ever gonna want you after this! You’re not even that pretty” Sean hollered after her, “You were lucky to be with me Y/n/n. No ones ever gonna want you when I say what I’ve got to say,” he continued, storming after her as she ran down the road, trying to get away from him.

“I’m gonna make your life a-”

Y/n expected to hear an end to that sentence, but when she turned round, he was gone. Just like that he’d vanished. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she tried to work out where he’d gone but she couldn’t deny the relief that washed over her body knowing he wasn’t chasing after her anymore. She ran a hand through her y/e/c hair before turning round to continue her walk home but as she turned round she saw a figure on the dimly lit street . At first she thought it was Sean but as the figure moved closer towards her, she realised it wasn’t Sean.

“Hello, Y/n,” the man said, his British accent catching her off guard. Her eyebrows furrowed again as she tried to work out who he was and  how he knew her name. She knew she wouldn’t forget someone as good looking as the man in front of her.

“Don’t worry, love, he won’t be bothering you again,” he soothed, his thumb wiping away a red mark from the side of his mouth. The way the nickname rolled off his tongue was enough to distract Y/n for a few seconds but then she realised that that mark on the corner of his mouth was blood. She mentally cursed herself as realisation dawned on her, this man was a vampire. A vampire who probably just killed her now ex boyfriend...

“Who are you?” Y/n asked, avoiding all eye contact with the man in front of her. Of course the one night she

“Oh yes, you haven’t seen me like this,” he paused for a second as a small smirk tugged at the side of his mouth, “I’m Klaus Mikaelson.”

Shit. That’s what Y/n thought when she heard the name fall from his lips. Her eyes darted to her hand before she remembered that she’d left her ring at the party. Typical. She thought to herself a small sigh falling from lips. She’d heard of Klaus. He was an original vampire...who wanted to kill Elena for some sort of weird  sacrifice.

“You’re the original vampire that wants to kill my friends…” Y/n stated, Klaus’ eyes almost beamed with pride as she said those words, “Where’s Sean?”

His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the concern that was on her voice, “Your pathetic ex is perfectly fine, I just needed a snack,” he began, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to lick his lower lip. It was such a simple action yet Y/n couldn’t deny the way her core ached when he did it. She managed to keep her composure as he continued to talk,”And as for your first point...there’s a reason I want to kill the doppelgänger,”

“Oh I’m well aware of your reasons,” Y/n scoffed, trying to brush off her growing arousal for the man in front of her.

“So what are you gonna do to me?” She asked, her voice strong and unwavering.

“Pardon?” A confused look was visible in both of their eyes.

“Well considering who you are and who my friends are I assume you’re gonna do something to me,”

“So what’re you gonna do? Kill me, compel me to hurt or kill my friends, turn me into a vampire?” She asked, noticing the look of confusion that was growing in Klaus’ eyes as he stared at her, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Because you’ve listed things that would terrify a normal human, yet you don’t seem scared at all,” Klaus replied, the confusion in his eyes turning into something else. A look of both adoration and worry. He couldn’t help but admire how brave she was. But it also saddened him slightly, she was so young and nothing that she listed seemed to scare her. He couldn’t help but wonder what her life had been like, had she always been this courageous or was it something that had happened recently.

“One of my best friends is dating a vampire, who also has a vampire brother, my other best friend is a vampire, the other is a witch and I’m human. Sooner or later something like this was bound to happen,” Y/n explained, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sent her a small smile,  “I’m not going to hurt you, I think you’ve been through enough tonight,” he soothed, reaching out to put a strand of her y/c/h behind her ear.

Y/n shuffled quickly away from his touch but his fingertips managed to brush against her skin, making her blush slightly. She shook her head, snapping herself back to reality now.

“Like you even care, you’re a psychotic original vampire, why would you care about me and what I’ve been through?”

“Because despite what most people think, I have a heart,” he answered back and when Y/n looked into his eyes all she saw was honesty, of course that could all be apart of his facade, “I see the pain in your eyes...it’s almost like you want to die,”

“I don’t want to, I’m just not scared of dying. It’s gonna happen one day,” she answered candidly and although her answer took her by surprise, it was the truth. Y/n wasn’t stupid. She knew the risks of being friends with who she’s friends with. It put a target on her back and unlike the majority of people in the group she had no way to defend herself nor anyone to really protect her. She was one of the least important people in the group and she knew it, she’d accepted her fate a long time ago. It was just a matter of time.

“That is a dark outlook for someone as beautiful as you to have on life,”

“It’s a realistic outlook to have given the world I’m living in, and I’m not beautiful,” She snapped, pushing past him slightly in an attempt to hide the blush that was frowning on her cheeks.

“You are,” he cooed, grabbing her hand lightly unlike Sean had.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, moving closer towards her, his hand stroking soothing circles on her knuckles.

“How could a vampire who’s a thousand years old think that I’m beautiful? I’m a human-“ Y/n began, trying not to think about how his touch made the butterflies in her stomach swarm and made her heart do somersaults.  

“You’re beautiful to me because you’re human. Your frailty. Your short years. Your heart,” Y/n hadn't noticed how close her and Klaus were until she felt his warm breath on her lips. That alone was enough to make all the words she’d planned on saying vanish from her mind. “All that suddenly seems more precious than anything I’ve ever known,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced down momentarily at Y/ns lips. He could see the fight she was having with herself mentally but he couldn’t resist her any longer. Within seconds his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer to him as he connected their lips. The kiss was much more gentle than Y/n had expected but no less passionate and it set off an explosion in her heart that she’d never felt when she’d kissed someone. It was the type of kiss that she’d only ever read about in stories. Klaus’ lips moulded against hers perfectly, like they were made for her and only her. Although part of her mind was telling how wrong all of this was, she couldn’t help but melt into the kiss. She knew this was wrong. He was the enemy. He was planning on killing her friends. But she couldn’t deny the way her heart burst when he pushed her up against a nearby wall. instinctively she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. Being with him like this felt like nothing she’d ever experienced. It felt so...so right. She felt like she could stay in this moment forever, getting drunk off the taste of his lips.

Neither of them had any idea how long they’d been kissing for but it was long enough to leave both of them panting slightly for air as they pulled away from the kiss, both of their minds caught up with the situation. Klaus knew what was racing through Y/ns mind, it was obvious, but he was also plagued by his own demons. He didn’t want to stop kissing her, he could’ve done it all night long if she’d let him. A small sigh left his lips as he rested his forehead against hers, momentarily glancing into her y/e/c orbs, almost getting lost in them as he imagined all the things that could be between them. But as he closed his eyes, realisation dawned on him. He knew what he had to do. He couldn’t be selfish with her, he was a monster to some but there was something about her that he just wanted to protect and protecting her, meant doing the very thing that would crush his heart. A shaky breath left Klaus’ lips as he pulled away from Y/n slightly, one of his hands moving to her chin, his finger tilting her head up, forcing those y/e/c orbs that first caught his attention to look up at him.

“Now, you are going to go home, call your friends and tell them what happened between you and Sean. You won’t remember talking to me but I truly hope you start to see the beauty in life again, you’re too young to not enjoy everything life has to offer.”  And just like that he vanished so Y/n wouldn’t see him. He watched her as she made her way home, a single tear running down his cheek as he watched her go further and further away from him.

Maybe in another universe, things could be different and he’d be able to show her how beautiful she truly was in his eyes. He’d be able to treat her the way she deserved to be treated. But alas, that was not this world and despite the way she made him feel, she had to forget everything that had happened. Klaus wasn’t stupid, he knew that her friends would use her to get to him and he couldn’t let her go through anymore pain.

Tagging: 

@xacatalepsyx​, @jensenackles512​, @brown-eyed-babes, @little-diable​ , @akshi8278​, @milly-louise​, @beth-winchester21​, @123cxcv​, @bxnnywatts​ , @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​, @kais-messiahbaby​ , @wandamaxigod​ . @tempt-ress​ , @camillyb​ , @heloisedaphnebrightmore​​

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[alloftheimaginesblog]

Life Without Colour {Steve/Plus Size Reader/Bucky}

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Inspired by a tiktok trend lmao. i don’t usually enjoy love triangles, i find it unfair but couldn’t get this idea out of my head.

i might make this a series??? what do we think??

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

Life with Steve was a comfortable life. It was a good life; full of love, affection and happiness. You’d always felt like something was missing and something was missing. You hadn’t seen colour yet. When you met Steve, you knew that you weren’t soulmates yet he asked you out anyway and you said yes despite knowing that. You almost hated the life of soulmates and the fact that you had one soulmate, what if they lived miles and miles away? What if they were dead? What if you never met them? There were too many questions and not enough answers. You knew of some people who never met their soulmate and their vision was always in black and white. You also knew of some people who had been in large crowds or had been drunk, met their soulmate or at least glanced at their soulmate and either couldn’t find them in the crowd or the next day didn’t know who they were and there was no telling of who it could be because their vision was already colourful. So yeah, you weren’t a fan of the soulmate thing.

Steve had met his soulmate, it was Peggy Carter. The moment he met her as he stood in the line up in the army and she scoped them out, his world flooded with colour and so did hers. He hadn’t hidden this from you at all and you admired that; you admired his honestly. He smiled on your first date when he noticed you were apprehensive, “We’re not soulmates, it’s okay.” You relaxed then, “I like to think that there’s more than just one person out there for me. I like to choose my own destiny.”

It wasn’t long before you were in a committed relationship with him. He was like a breath of fresh air, so caring and kind and you had never been in love like this before. Steve was the closest thing to a soulmate as you’d had. You wished that he was your soulmate, it would ease your mind so much and it would have made your life so much easier. People didn’t think you and Steve should be together, you were regularly met with comments like, ‘You’re just setting up for heartache when you find your soulmate.’

You and Steve had spoken about what would happen if your world flooded with colour and you met your soulmate. Honestly, you’d expected a fight to break out but Steve was so kind about it and so level headed, unlike anything or anyone you’d ever seen before. ‘It would hurt me but I said on our first date that we weren’t soulmates. I love you, (y/n), and I want to spend the rest of my life with you but I trust you. I would trust that you would be open with me and let me know what you want to do. I can’t stop you from being with your soulmate so if you wanted to get to know them and see where it goes then I wouldn’t stop you. I just want you to be happy and I don’t want to hold you back from it. Just know that I love you and I believe in us.’  You told him that no matter what, you loved him first and he meant everything to you.

Life with Steve was good. You’d been dating for the best part of a year now and things were going good. You’d met most of the team and regularly met up with Sam and Nat, two of Steve’s closest friends. Steve told you all about his past, he told you all about Peggy and all about Bucky and you loved hearing stories of his past. The way Steve spoke of Peggy made you a little jealous but you couldn’t compete with his soulmate besides, he loved you. He was with you, planning a life and future with you, so you didn’t mind when he reminisced. You hadn’t met Bucky yet but you’d heard all about him. He was laying low in Wakanda, Steve told you, to try and undo the mind control that HYDRA had done to him.

‘I can’t wait to meet him one day,’ you said with a smile, ‘I can’t wait to hear all of his stories about you growing up.’ Oh how you would grow to regret saying that.

It was at Tony’s birthday party that your whole entire world changed and that is where this story begins.

“Do I look okay?” You asked Steve as you walked out from the bedroom. You wore a dress that was a little tighter than what you’d normally opt for, it showed off more curves; hugging your larger stomach and your back rolls.

Steve grinned at you, “Beautiful, sweetheart. I love that dress on you.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself, Captain.” He was so handsome, with that gorgeous smile and his hair styled to perfection. He wore black suit and tie, “My god, my boyfriend is the hottest man alive.”

Steve laughed as you approached him, planting a kiss on your forehead, “My god, my girlfriend is the most beautiful girl alive.”

You looked up at him, wishing that you could stare into his blue eyes and see the shade of them, “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you, too.” A large part of him wished that you had seen colour when you saw him, in fact the majority of him wished that. Deep down, he worried what would happen if you met your soulmate. He trusted you, god he really did, but it worried him. He hadn’t loved like this since Peggy and when he lost her, it almost broke him and he didn’t know if he could do that again.

He kissed you softly and pulled away all too soon. People didn’t understand your relationship, they always questioned whether or not you could be in love with someone that wasn’t your soulmate and the answer you told them was always yes, you can be in love with someone who isn’t your soulmate. Soulmate didn’t mean romantic, soulmate could be platonic too. You told them that you got butterflies whenever Steve kissed you, you missed him every time he was gone, you thought of him all the time and you knew; you knew that he was made for you. People just didn’t understand.

“Let’s go, love,” Steve said as he pulled away, “I gotta show you off and tell the world how beautiful my girlfriend is.” He just always knew exactly what to say, always knew how to lift you up and make you feel confident. Being a plus size woman dating Steve Rogers, America’s hunkiest superhero, it always made you feel a little insecure. When reporters or tabloids took a photo of the two of you together, the comments would always talk about you not being good enough for Steve. The media was a toxic place, that favoured white skinny people and hated everyone else. Your weight did not define your beauty or your worth. You were beautiful and you demanded respect. Steve was good for reminding you of that fact. He had been the one to tell you to wear this dress, he had told you that you looked like a Greek goddess and that Aphrodite herself would be jealous.

You had been to a few of Tony Stark’s parties before and each was always grander and wilder than the previous. This time though he had promised that it would be more intimate than the previous ones. Usually, half the city piled into the Stark Industries turned Avengers Tower and partied until dawn so you didn’t trust him when he said that it would be a more private event.

Low and behold, Tony Stark had been telling the truth! There were maybe one hundred to one hundred and fifty guests, which was still a lot but it was a lot of people you knew. A lot of SHIELD employees were there, Maria, Fury, the guy that played Galactica (you really should learn his name). Tony had invited the team, family, friends, reporters and even... “Is that Paris Hilton?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, appearing at your back, “I built some tech for her dog Tinkerbell so that she could talk to her years ago. She’s pretty cool.”

“My god.”

“Welcome,” Tony grinned, “Champagne?” He asked, snapping his finger and suddenly, a waiter came to you and offered you and Steve two glasses of champagne. You took one and sipped at it, “Love that dress, (y/n), love the colour.” Tony winked at you before getting caught in a conversation with Pepper.

You looked down at your dress, “Yeah, love the colour,” you muttered sardonically. Steve glanced at you, feeling a pang of sadness for you, before pointing over to Nat and Sam. Natasha smiled at you, complimenting your dress and your hair.

“Steve said the colour goes well with my eyes. He said that it’s red.” you said with a smile.

Nat looked at your sadly, “Still nothing?”

You shook your head, “No. I mean, I’m half hoping that I’ll wake up one morning, look at Steve and it’ll happen. I wish it could’ve been him.”

You and Nat had become close over the year, she was funny and kind and she always made you feel better about anything that was going on. She could also be stubborn and sarcastic but she was such a good friend, “Anyway, enough about me,” you said with a smile, “Bruce made a move yet?”

Natasha smiled as she looked over to Bruce, “Uh, yeah, actually.”

“Shut up!” You grinned, taking another sip of your drink, “When? What happened?!”

“He asked me on a date.”

As Natasha spilled the beans on her and Banner’s painfully slow budding relationship, you hadn’t noticed someone walking up to Steve who stood a few feet away and hugged him. You didn’t notice Steve’s laughter and comment of, “It’s so good to see you, man.”

After a few minutes, Steve interrupts you and Natasha, “Sorry, sweetheart, there’s someone really important that I want you to meet.”

You cock your head, “Sure, who is it?”

You can’t see them, Steve’s figure hides whoever it is. Steve grins and you can tell whoever it is is super important to him, “(y/n), I’d love for you to meet my best friend. (y/n) meet Bucky and Bucky meet (y/n).”

Steve steps to the side and your eyes look up and suddenly, you’re staring into the most intense blue eyes, “Bucky...” You whisper as colour floods your senses. The black and white fades from view and instead, colour floods into your vision. There he is, Bucky, the best friend of your boyfriend and apparently... your soulmate.

Oh, fuck.

Bucky’s smile falls as colour floods into his vision and he finds himself staring into your eyes, the first colour that he saw; the first face he’d seen in colour; his soulmate. The two of you stare at the other, unable to move or speak. Steve watches the two of you curiously, “You two okay? Don’t tell me you hate each other already.” You didn’t know what to do. How could you tell your boyfriend that his best friend was your soulmate? You couldn’t. You knew that it would crush Steve. You open your mouth but nothing comes out.

It’s Bucky who forces himself to look away from you and clears his throat, a smile plastered on his face, “No, just surprised that you never mentioned how beautiful (y/n) is.” He’s handsome, you’d known that for ages by all of the photos that Steve had shown you but he’s really handsome with a tanned complexion and short dark hair. His eyes were a deep shade of (what you would soon learn to be) blue and they were lovely. They looked sad; haunted almost and had such intensity that it made you feel self-conscious the longer you stared at each other. He wore dark pants and a white shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, his metal arm glinting in the light. Bucky Barnes was your soulmate. 

Steve’s arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into his side as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve heard so much about you,” you say, forcing a smile, “Steve talks about you all the time.”

Bucky extends his hand, almost unsure whether he wants to make physical contact with you. You look at his hand and up to his eyes before extending your own hand and shaking it. He has a firm handshake with calloused hands from years of dealing with weapons and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. There wasn’t a spark or that electricity that people talk about. People described touching their soulmate like being shocked yet it was just a hand and it was just for a second.

Bucky smiles as he drops his hand, “I hope it’s all good stuff he’s been saying.”

“Of course,” you say, “I thought you were Wakanda though.”

“I was,” Bucky nods, “but I’ve been free from HYDRA for a few months now and I felt confident enough to come home again.”

“Even got a new haircut,” Steve grins, reaching out to ruffle Bucky’s newly cropped in hair.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “You remember when you were the five foot four scrawny kid that could barely reach my head if you reached up? I miss that.”

Your head hurts from all of the bright colours; so many bright colours all around you that made you wince. You didn’t know how people just adapted to the bright colours. There were so many and you didn’t know what their names were, “Excuse me, I’m just going to get some air.”

You turned on your heel and left, trying to ignore Bucky’s eyes that bore into the side of your skull and instead walked towards Tony’s balcony. You could feel your breathing quicken as your heels tapped on the marble floors as panic rose in your chest along with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Turning the handle, you opened the balcony doors and slipped out. Thankfully no one else was here so you were free to express whatever emotion you wanted. You looked out at the city, away from the party, as you let yourself feel. The city was beautiful, overwhelmingly so. Your hands trembled as they clung to the railing, terrified of what was going to happen next. Bucky Barnes, Steve’s best friend, was your soulmate. Out of the seven billion people in the world and your soulmate just had to be your boyfriend’s best friend.

Your breathing was ragged as you tried to calm down your sense of panic as bile rose in your throat. Squeezing your eyes closed, you breathed in deeply through your nose, “You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself, repeating the mantra over and over.

You were so focused that you didn’t realise someone else had stepped outside with you and were approaching you, “Look at the sky,” the voice said; the voice that made a shiver creep down your spine, “It’s okay, just look to the sky, (y/n).”

Opening your eyes, you looked to the sky. You didn’t need to look to know that it was Bucky, “The night sky is the same as it always was; still dark with white stars. Slow your breathing down and focus on the stars.” You did as he instructed, forcing yourself to breathe slower and deeper and forcing yourself to look only at the stars. It was minutes later when your breathing was slow that you felt confident enough to look out at the city, “How you feeling?”

“Overwhelmed,” was all you said.

Bucky nodded, leaning against the railing and looking out, “They’re amazing, aren’t they?” He asked, sparing you a glance, “Colours, I mean. I have no idea what each one is. I don’t know what’s blue or red or green but they’re beautiful.”

You nodded, “Yeah... What colour of eyes do you have?”

“I’ve been told blue, why?”

You pointed, “That colour. That billboard that’s talking about pizza. That’s blue. It’s the same colour as your eyes.” It was a lovely shade of blue actually; a deeper, more intense blue.

Bucky pointed to a flashing light across the way, “That’s the same colour as your dress.”

“Red. Steve told me that this dress is red.” You looked over at the light, “I’m too scared to look at the dress. It doesn’t feel right. He bought me this dress, he compliments how well it suits me and I’ve just discovered colour with his best friend.”

“I know... It’s the last thing I wanted or thought would happen.”

“Honestly, I would’ve preferred my soulmate be Loki, no offense, but that would’ve been much easier than this.” 

Bucky laughed slightly, “I’ll drink to that.” He drained the rest of his champagne before setting it down on the ledge, “Steve told me all about you. Whenever we’d call, all he wanted to talk about was you.”

“All Steve liked to talk about was you,” you said to him, “I suppose we’re the greatest loves of his life right here, Peggy aside.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Told you about Peggy, huh?” You responded with an ‘of course’. Silence falls on the two of you and it’s Bucky who breaks the silence a minute later, “Look, it’s gonna be awkward. We can try and pretend this isn’t there but we’ll always know but... I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, “Shouldn’t we tell him?”

Bucky shrugs, “If that’s what you want.” I don’t know what I want right now. I want to have never met you, Bucky Barnes. I want to go home and to curl into bed with my boyfriend. I want black and white vision back, “This would... destroy him. I don’t know if I’m prepared to tell him, not yet at least. Could you?”

You thought about it, going through scenarios in your head, “I want to but... I don’t want hurt him.”

Bucky nods and looks out towards the cityscape again, “So, it’s decided. We keep it a secret and don’t worry, we can try and avoid each other and pretend that nothing’s happened... Deal?”

You nod, “Bucky... I’m sorry.” You didn’t know why you apologised but you felt a pang of guilt that you’re his soulmate and nothing can happen between the two of you.

Bucky laughs but you notice that it seems a little forced, “If only I’d met you first, doll, eh?” You laugh with him slightly, only quiet and only for a second, “I’m sorry too. This isn’t easy so I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to avoid me like I’m the plague,” you tell him, “I don’t want Steve to get suspicious but he’ll get suspicious if we’re never around each other...” Bucky nods and tells you that he understands, “My god, it’s all a bit complicated.”

You feel a pang of guilt again that you’d be hiding it from Steve but it’s for the best. At least for just now until you and Bucky kind of understood everything and got a hang of the new world in front of you. You didn’t want to lie to him but you couldn’t tell him this... not yet anyway. Bucky mirrors you and sighs, “It’s for the best.” He nods, “We’ll tell him eventually...”

Bucky gives you one last smile before he turns and leaves. He pauses and walks back over to you, “It’s nice to finally meet you, (y/n).” He says sincerely, “You really are beautiful, Steve’s a lucky guy.”

You look up at Bucky and you know that anyone would kill for him to be their soulmate, “It’s nice to meet you too, Bucky,” you say, voice barely louder than a whisper, “It’s nice to finally know who my soulmate is even if it can never happen.”

He takes a breath before going inside and it’s then that you finally look down at your dress. The colour surprises you, it’s bright yet dark and deep and rich and it’s beautiful. Steve had done a good job picking this one out. You lift your head and notice Steve approaching from inside.

You turn your back to him, taking a deep breath, before he’s beside you, “I saw the two of you talking,” he says happily, “You like him?”

You turn to him, about to say something when you falter. His eyes. His marvellous blue eyes. They were a few shades lighter than Bucky’s, brighter. You find yourself melting into them. You love them. Steve says your name, snapping you out of your trance, “Sorry, champagne went straight to my head. Uh, yeah, he’s lovely,” you say with a quick smile, “He thinks really highly of you, Steve.”

Steve grins, “I’m so glad that the two of you get along, I was so worried in case you didn’t. I was even worried in case it turned out that you two were soulmates because Bucky sees black and white too!” Steve laughs and you want to cry. You want to blurt out the truth; you should have told him. Dear god, you should have told him then and there but you don’t. Instead you force a laugh and laugh with him. Steve notices nothing.

You talk for a few more minutes before you tell him that you’re really tired and have a migraine coming. It’s not a lie. “Can we go home?” Steve nods, shrugging his suit jacket off and draping it over your shoulders.

“Let’s go.” He leads you back inside and you find yourself unable to look at anything other than the floor, “Let me say bye to everyone first, okay?” He presses a kiss to your temple before weaving through the crowd to find the team and say bye. He’s back barely a moment later and as your leaving you accidentally bump into something hard; really hard.

“Jesus!” You hiss, grabbing your shoulder.

“Shit, sorry-” It’s Bucky. Of course it is. Of course. You can barely look him in the the eye longer than a second, “You okay? I promise the other one isn’t that hard.”

Steve mimics his question of asking if you’re okay, you nod, “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve got a migraine, didn’t see you.”

“You know, I have a migraine coming on too,” Bucky says, rubbing his head. That was what finally seeing colour did to you, you supposed. “You two heading home?”

Steve nods, “Yeah... What about hanging out some point this week?” He asks Bucky, “You could come for dinner... Sunday?” Steve looks to you, “We’re not busy, are we?” You shake your head.

Bucky glances at you almost looking for your approval before he answers. You give the tiniest of nods and Bucky relaxes, “Yeah, sure. Sunday sounds great.”

Steve grins and the pair hug, “I’ll text you tomorrow and we’ll set it up.”

As the pair say their goodbyes, you look up at Bucky, meeting those blue eyes. God, you just need to go home and sleep. Maybe this is all a bad dream, maybe tomorrow you’ll wake up and everything will be black and white again and the guilt will be gone. You muster up the strength to say goodbye to Bucky before Steve leads you out of Stark Tower.

It’s a long car ride home and you’re only fifteen minutes away in a car. The drive is long and all you can think about is Bucky, nothing romantic but more you couldn’t believe that your soulmate is Bucky. The universe is fucked up; getting off on causing the biggest love triangle of the 21st century.

Steve asks if you’re okay and all you can say is, “Tired.” He frowns at you, knowing something’s bothering you. He knows you the best out of anyone on his planet so he knows exactly when something’s wrong. He puts it down to the migraine and tiredness but there’s something niggling in the back of his mind as he drives you both home, something that makes him think that something else is wrong and bothering you.

As soon as you get to Steve’s apartment, you kick off your shoes and ask him to unzip you. He does and immediately, you step out of your dress and go to put some pyjamas on. He picks up your dress and follows you into the bedroom,  “Are you sure that nothing is wrong?”

You sigh, “I’m fine, really. This migraine is just doing a number on me and I’m tired. I think I just need to sleep.” Steve lets you get dressed and brush your teeth. When you come back into the bedroom, he’s in bed waiting for you with a bottle of water and some migraine tablets, “God, I love you, Steve Rogers.” You take the medication and the water and set it down on the bedside cabinet. 

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead once you’re settled into bed, “Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Something you always envied about Steve was his ability to fall asleep quickly. He always said that it was a perk of the super solider serum. Within three minutes, Captain America is snoring beside you, arms wrapped around you tightly. You try to sleep but all you can think about, all you see when you close your eyes is Bucky’s piercing dark eyes staring into your soul. When you do get to sleep, those blue eyes haunt you.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky can’t get your face out of his head. He lays on the floor of his apartment, the cold wood cooling the heat of his body. He can’t stop thinking about you. After years of wondering who his soulmate is he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that it’s his best friends girl. Bucky sighs and rolls over.

If only I met you first, doll, eh?

[todourouki]

↲ Back to my BNHA Masterlist

i crash, u crash.

SUMMARY: Being with Dabi wasn’t easy and it probably never will be, but he just wants to make sure you’ll stick around. Or in which Dabi tries his best to show you he cares about you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: based off i crash, u crash by lil peep! lol honestly idk about this one. but welcome back gift for me, from me, to you <3

PAIRING: Boyfriend!Dabi & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,476

WARNINGS: Explicit Content, Dabi is toxic, Angst*, NSFW [18+] including spitting, slight daddy kink, squirting, slight overstimulation.

© todourouki

Sex with Dabi was always the same.

Routinely speaking, whenever he was back from a mission was the time you were expected to be on all fours waiting for his attention. It was always rough too, nothing short of angry and aggressive even if it was a form of “love-making.” He could call it what he wanted to though, he knew the universal term for his type of sex was simply fucking.

The positions and their timings were always on schedule. No more than 3 minutes in missionary— all the time in the world doing everything else. You never really got to touch him, and he’s never let you see his face when he came.

The relationship of hot and fiery sex mixed with an unrequited form of codependency grew to an actual romantic one somehow between the days and nights spent together, yet nothing of the dynamic ever changed. The only thing you could recall is that he groggily asked of you to “finally be his girlfriend since you already acted like it.”

Dabi was a complicated person. You never knew if he planned on waking up and deciding he wanted to be single, and honestly the day he decided to do such a thing wouldn’t be a surprise to you. He was an avid participator in the league of breaking hearts and even if you had more than enough knowledge on this, you allowed his sneaky smirk to seduce you into the sheets of his bed and hours of his days.

You eventually found yourself moving in, figuring out that he refused to sleep without the air conditioner on, never wore socks around the house, used way too much salt on his eggs, and never managed to close the curtains after he got out the shower. Above all that though, he never changed the way he fucked you.

Dabi loves you, of course you never had to question it or get reassurance. He showed you in minuscule ways such as stealing bringing you your favorite snacks after a long day without you, doing things such as buying double of what he gets from store runs because you’re in his mind all day, and telling you he’ll be safe for you once he walks out the door. He never says I love you, but he doesn’t need to.

It’s hard to get someone like him to change the way they are, so when you’re sitting on your shared bed flipping through a magazine and see a couples quiz linger across the page, you can’t help but try to feed yourself crumbs of his affection you know you’ll spend a lifetime searching for.

“How long did it take for you to realize you like me?” You broke the silence, squinting at the duo-skin toned man slouched across the wooden headboard.

You heard him chuckle, blinking longly at you with amusement glimmering within his cerulean irises. It wasn’t rare for Dabi to mock you for asking such a thing, but it was a rare moment for you to glare at him deadpanned and genuinely waiting for an answer. It fucking confused him.

“As long as it took you to make me cum the first time.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment enough to make him furrow his eyebrows. It wasn’t like you to not retaliate back, you were always quick to snap back at him. Hearing nothing but his own breathing as you skipped through pages made him furrow his eyebrows. He wanted to ask if you were okay— he really did, but then you’d think he cared.

And Dabi would be a terrible person if he let you know he cared.

The silence was nearly overbearing, nearly deafening in his ears as he tried his hardest to focus on anything but your serious expression haunting him in the back of his mind. Things like this rarely bothered him. It goes to say that Dabi was rarely ever bothered.

Sure, you never asked for much reassurance and never even did as much as ask if he meant it when he asked you out mid-nap, but he really did. Sure, you lived off the whim of thinking it was, but at least the raven haired man knew it was. Right?

The sound of the magazine slamming shut and getting thrown somewhere onto the bed broke Dabi of his thoughts. “I’m gonna’ pee.” You announced, mostly to no one in particular because your soft eyes refused to meet his own. Another rare occurrence.

You lied to Dabi for the first time in your life. Did you really have to pee? Of course not. Did you have to cry in the bathroom for a quick 2 seconds to release the pent up frustration of utter confusion? Of course you did. It was annoying— living with someone and only getting treated as if you were anything in the slightest to him when his dick was inside of you. He only ever fucks you rough and never lets you see his face, and he expects you to believe he wants to be with you?

After cleaning your solemn face from dry tears, your body grudgingly made its way out the bathroom and to the bed. Your presence within the studio was clear, panties strewn across the open drawers mixed with Dabi’s briefs, shoes tucked neatly compared to Dabi’s boots tossed lazily near the door, and perfume bottles layering up against the old brown dresser. You took a quick glance at a picture of you hanging on the wall, a familiar raven-headed man’s arms wrapped around your head as he towered over your frame with his head resting across your head.

It was never worth the confusion.

“Why were you crying?” His dark voice rang out, making you slightly flinch as you dented the soft mattress with your frame.

A quick shake of the head will do, you thought to yourself as you followed your own orders. You knew Dabi wouldn’t push to find out what was wrong, he never does. And he doesn’t, lips shut as he takes a drag from some cigarette he’s smoking and giving you a longing look of aggravation. It’s even less of a surprise for him to do such a thing.

“If you have something to tell me, then I suggest you do it.” If you hadn’t known Dabi for as long as you do, you’d probably assume he was being condescending and outright rude. Because you do know him though, you know that’s exactly how he’s trying to come off to you.

You dreaded it. The eventual confrontation that was inevitable from the moment you accepted to be his girlfriend— it all led to this moment in space and time. You felt exactly how you predicted you’d feel, sick and intimidated. Not necessarily by Dabi because you know he’d never hurt you, but intimidated by the fact that it’s as easy as 1-2-3 for him to up and leave depending on your answer.

“What are we, Dabi?” And there it goes, 1-2-3.

It was like hearing a pin drop. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody did anything for the first three seconds following the ultimatum. He knew he had two options: answer genuinely and reveal information he’d die before releasing, or leave you high and dry yet again for his own benefit when it comes to the mere idea of using words he doesn’t use in bed.

Staring into your eyes never scared him, he cremating people for a living, but knowing that lying behind them were tears falling for your reflection rather than on his shoulder caused a pang to hit his chest. It was unfamiliar and unusual, but looking at your body begin to leave its space in the bed in frustration with his quietness made him snap. You were serious for the first time.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Your words were harsh, harsher than usual and you yourself couldn’t even tell where this newfound energy came from.

You were okay. You were okay with whatever this complicated situationship was, and you probably would have still been okay with it if you hadn’t gotten too deep in over your head and let his words get to you. Him saying he realized he liked you coincidentally while you fucked should be above you, yet here you are.

“Jesus doll, relax.” He taunted, hands reaching out to grab your arm in a fit of confusion and annoyance, “just come back to bed Y/N.”

You felt it - the minute he touched your arm and released the tiniest bit of heat coming off his palm - just how tense he was becoming. He knew once you put your mind to something, it was difficult to get you to move away from it. He knew that there was no escaping this conversation.

It was inevitable really, the fact that one day (which was, unfortunately for him, today) you would question the legitimacy of his emotions for you. You were carefree just like him, that’s why he fell for you. But you were also blunt. If you felt a way, you were going to say it and that’s that.

Easily, the scarred hand gripping onto your arm slid over to your clenched jaw. You didn’t mean to give him a hard time for not looking his way—with the way his fingers squeezed deep into your skin and tilted your head towards him, you knew you did. It almost repulsed you with how obedient your body was to his touch, glancing at him with no shame other than the dried tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m gonna tell you the one time and I’ll never repeat myself,” he threatened, voice treading amongst angry waters as his blue eyes bored into yours, “I’m serious.”

You stood your ground, eyes taking away from your scowling expression as they swirled in curiosity. It didn’t take much to make you lower your frame onto the edge of the bed, a sigh escaping your lips as you pulled the t-shirt past your exposed panties.

“I don’t say much when it comes to you, or even to when it’s about you—but you’re all I am.” Your eyebrows furrowed, clear confusion written in your face.

“What does tha—” “I’m talking.” Dabi’s aggravated expression never left, not even with the joint hoisted between his lips in nothing but frustration.

“I got nothing to give you, nothing but collected calls from jail and maybe some jewelry I stole cause I got bored. I don’t have any money, anything to my name, and nothing but a spot on the police and hero department’s most wanted list.” His words made you frown, the clear self-depreciation outweighing the cocky and arrogant attitude you once knew to belong to the man infront of you.

“I can’t look you in the eye, show you my face when you milk my cock clean— can’t do shit like that,” Dabi’s smirk was quick to appear, your eyes rolling as you met his serious gaze yet again, “probably won’t be able to take you out the country either unless we run far, far away from here.”

“But nothing I say or do will ever express the way I feel about you.” And now it’s Dabi’s turn for the 1-2-3 process, because that statement in itself made your brain stop working.

Your brain couldn’t comprehend the fact that Dabi’s free hand was circling your bare thigh, moving closer and closer to where he most felt at home. His words never faltered though, only slightly pausing to smoothly slip his hands onto the soaked folds of pink lace.

His words were thrown against empty ears. You couldn’t focus on the words flowing within the room due to the ever-growing heartbeat pulsing between your thighs. Dabi’s hand sank into your leg, heat splitting between your skin enough to hiss and throw your head back.

“From this perfect pussy,” he applied pressure to the space between your legs, the wet patch inducing a smile from his once blank expesssion. The sudden contact caused a gasp to slip from your panting lips. Almost instinctively, Dabi pressed his thumb against your tongue, “to this smart ass mouth, it’s all I need to wake up in the morning.”

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi's heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he's ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who's life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen burn bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi's harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

"You're gonna get tired of me one day," he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, "you're gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own."

He wanted to think he wouldn't care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn't do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he's ever known in his life for as long as he'd live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

"Hey," you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

"You crash, I crash. Always."

Your words hit him, and boy did they hit Dabi hard. The time it took for the word always to softly slip off your tongue was just enough time for Dabi to realize the depth of your words.

They were the same ones that fell between your lips when he thought he was dying, when you thought you were dying, and now. Dabi was complex - that was evident - but he was also the simplest man you knew. All he ever really needed was some reassurance.

It was long before his fingers found their way into your scalp, slipping over the crevices of your neck and gripping onto the back of your head as if his life depended on it. All you could do was gasp.

"Can I touch you?" The words were like a record scratch, repeating through the scarred man's brain all too much to keep anyone sane.

He couldn't tell if it was the slur of your words, or if it was your soft hands running across his thick shoulders as the words whispered into his ears— whatever it was made him take up the obligation of doing anything and everything you said.

It wasn't soon before you found yourself slamming your lips against his, the sensation causing you both to moan. You couldn't tell the difference between his hands and yours, tangled limbs falling deep into the plush comforter covering your shared bed. His weight above you did nothing but encourage you to wrap your bare limbs against his now shirtless one on, hands running through the raven locks above your head.

The minute you felt the heated pads of his fingertips lower themselves down your abdomen, your head shook underneath his and caused him to part his lips from its home on yours.

"Hmph," you groaned, pouting as your hands traveled down to his jeans and began to fiddle with the zipper, "I want to feel you in me now."

Dabi was used to being in control. He was used to ordering your body around, telling you what to do and how to do it. In the bedroom, Dabi made the orders. So when he parted his lips from yours and stood over your body with his scarred hands shoving his pants down his thighs, you couldn't do anything less than moan. Knowing he was taking what you said into consideration brought chills to your skin.

"You sure you're ready for this, sweetheart?" He smirked, legs coming out of the restricting jeans he wore and leaving his tall and lean frame in nothing but gray briefs.

Dabi had a lot to brag about, in the most respectful way possible.

Your hands clawed at his waistband, giggling as you pulled his body all the way back to its original position of resting above you and let the underwear go with a loud smack. Being eye to eye with someone like Dabi was scary, no point in denying that. Her there was something about it that just drove the two of you insane— and he couldn't tell if I was anything short of love.

He silenced himself, attaching his lips to yours and preoccupying a hand into pulling his briefs down just enough. And by just enough, it meant just enough to brush your clothed clit as his painfully hard cock stretched up to his stomach. You couldn’t do anything but flinch, hands reaching out to grip his thick girth and slap it across your clothed pussy.

“Let me do it.” You smiled, eyes boring into Dabi’s own blue ones. Your free hand slipped your panties to the side, his mushroom tip dancing against the rim of your wet hole and causing the two of you to release a soft groan into one another’s face.

If there was one thing Dabi would never get tired of, it would be the feeling of your velvet walls sucking his dick closer into you. Nothing short of sensation hit him the minute your hands shoved the head in, and his almost fell inlove with the view of you watching his large length disappear into your own heaven.

It was hard for you to not cum from his entrance. Even as he bottomed out, your teeth sealing a scream from leaving your throat by pressing into his shoulder, did you realize just how big Dabi was. No matter how skinny, lean, and weightless he seemed, the girth and length on Dabi’s third leg when he was stuffing himself into you never failed to surprise you. Even through the self-inflicted pain of going into this without foreplay, you knew there was nothing that would ever fill you up as amazing as Dabi does.

“Fuuuck,” you dragged out into his earlobe, tongue licking a strip of his patched skin from your bite-mark to the lobe of his pierced ears, “you’re so big.”

He couldn’t help but whimper (another thing on Dabi’s list or shit he doesn’t do but now does because of you), the feeling of your tongue circling his ear as your pussy gripped onto his fleeting cock nearly felt like too much. It didn’t help that you were moaning and whispering in his ear with nothing but pure sex laced in your words.

“You know,” he breathed out, beginning to create a routine with his hips bottoming harshly into your cervix and slowly dragging out in a timely fashion, “this is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

He thinks it’s a compliment, but really it stirs awake the competitive bone in your body. You ignore it though like you always do, choosing to appreciate the fact that he considers you the best at atleast something.

His hand gripped onto your neck, bringing neon stars and dots of blackness to conceal your view of cerulean eyes. Nothing but the lewd sounds of Dabi pushing his dick into your wet hole filled the room, sprinkles of your whimpers and his groans mixing amongst the darkness of the apartment.

Dabi was trouble. He never felt in control of his feelings, never knew what he would want in life, and never bothered to consider living for someone other than himself. It’s moments like these with you though, that makes him realize the God he wakes up thinking about rests between the gap in the middle of your heavenly thighs. He’d killed people before, but the power you held over him was enough to make him consider killing everyone on earth if you’d ask.

You felt him begin to grow impatient, hips pounding into your frame and causing your body to jolt up and down harshly. Words couldn’t describe how amazing Dabi felt inside of you right now. His tip crushed your cervix within every thrust, and it was Dabi’s fingers that lifted your gaping face from the trance of watching him fuck into you to his own face.

“I-I cant.” You began to slip out, tears growing against your eyes as Dabi’s hot fingers began to flick your swollen clit. You swear it’s only been like ten minutes, or maybe Dabi’s huge dick pushing against your cervix was beginning to fuck you stupid. “You’re gonna’ make me cum— make me cum too fast daddy.” You cried out, fingers dragging against the stapled back as you felt Dabi purposely drag one of the piercings located on his tip across your pulsating velvet walls. It was almost too good to be true, and you couldn’t help yourself from kicking his waist over you and forcing his body underneath you. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wipe the smirk off his sweating face.

“Get to work, doll.”

You knew why he spoke to you with such condensation. You also knew exactly why his hands pressed into your ass cheeks as you found your home on top of his bare lap. His scarred torso leaned against the black bed frame, and you decided right then and there that Dabi deserved to get his brains fucked out. So you did exactly what he told you to do— you got to work.

You were wet enough to take him some more, knees straining as you finally pushed his length deep into your stomach. The silent scream that left your lips didn’t go unnoticed though, your fingers that now gripped his cheeks pressing between his lips to keep his teasing menstruations to himself. Dabi’s eyes couldn’t come off your body, and honestly he wished they never had to.

Keeping a grip on your stomach and your ass cheek, an enflamed slap brought a powerful burn across your ass cheek and caused you to jolt against his penis.

“Jesus Dabi, a-are you trying to kill me?” You weakly pleaded, and it didn’t take long for your fucked our expression to start slurring your words.

The sound of you dropping your frame onto his body filled the room, your hips rolling against your clothed clit and bringing sensation you weren’t sure if you could handle. You were trying to focus, but the feeling of Dabi heating a hand up across your ass and slowly beginning to meet your thrusts caused your brain to jumble into a mess of nothing but him.

“Fuck, baby you look so good when you start to get stupid.” He smirked, lips running against the cleavage of your bouncing breasts and lazily sucking on the moving nipple in front of him.

You wanted to fight back, and you wanted to defend yourself against him thinking you we’re starting to get stupid. You really wanted to— the only issue being that you couldn’t. You couldn’t the minute Dabi found a way to meet your thrusts and roughly tilt your neck back up towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Was all you could cry out as you began to grow impatient in your lower abdomen. It just felt too good. And as if to add injury to insult, your walls began to clamp up from the feeling you knew was coming soon. Dabi paid the price.

You’d never seen his eyes get this wide, eyebrows furrowed as his mouth gaped open in shock. His eyes found its way down, the sight of your pussy gripping and swallowing his dick back in and out being something he wishes he could see all day and that’s when Dabi realizes that he is inlove with everything about you.

“It’s like your perfect pussy was made for me, baby.” He whimpered out, smirking between hooded eyes as he struggled to regain some of his consciousness. You were way too good at bouncing on his dick, and he couldn’t help but begin to meet your thrusts with more precision as he felt himself near orgasm.

“A-all for you! Always all- always all for you daddy!” You cried out, voice struggling to come out as you threw your hands against Dabi’s chest and began to bounce as if your life depends on it.

You hate doing all the work, honestly you really do dislike it. But this has been the longest Dabi has allowed you to ride him and the feeling of you literally milking his cock at your own disposal was an offer too good to ruin.

“I know it’s all for me, princess.” He whimpered out, a hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling it low enough to slam your chapped lips against his own. “Wanna know something, baby?”

The words vibrating against your own moans got lost in the sound, your headboard forcibly slamming against the wall only louder as every other thrust from you gradually grew rougher with your urge to cum. Your brain couldn’t do anything less than feverishly nod, hands slipping back onto your body and allowing Dabi to drill into you from underneath. Gasps slipped out of your parted lips with a hand gripping his black hair and the other begging to rub your own clit.

“You crash, I crash forever, right baby?” He moaned out, the words entering your ears and making you cry out with tears finally spilling down your eyes from nothing but intense pleasure.

“Fuck yes daddy, forever!” You cried out, body beginning to hunch over as you felt the pressure in your stomach compared to the way Dabi slammed into you become too much.

“Good, doll,” he moaned, pushing you so far into him, the heartbeat in your pussy was sure to be vibrating onto the veins of his dick, “so do me a favor.”

Everything happened much too fast, your dizzy state only increasing as Dabi grabbed your body harshly and tossed you back underneath him. There you were again, tossed carelessly under him with your legs trembling and pussy stuffed with all of Dabi in his glory. His lips found our ear again, licking your lobe and sucking on it right after.

“Cream all over my cock so I can stuff you up with my kids, deal?” He smirked into you, jolting into you as soon as the last word resonated on all ears.

Soon enough, he found it in himself to thrust into you like never before. You could barely breath, gasping for air as you felt your vagina began to vibrate due to stage of pleasure you were in. And just like that, your body began to run from the overstimulation of Dabi’s hot finger rubbing roughly against your clit as he drills your frame into the crevices of your mattress.

“Da-daddy I’m gonna’....” The words just couldn’t come out— he was begging to fuck you dumb.

You couldn’t feel nothing but Dabi’s dick pound into you, and if this was all you felt before you fell into a sex-coma than fuck it. It will forever and always be worth it.

It was like you were starting to see white. The feeling of one of his hands now roughly gripping your drooling expression closer to his face made you scream in pleasure, Dabi’s smirk leaving only to release a trail of saliva from his throat into the back of yours. You swallowed it with no hesitation, some of the residue slipping through your lips in a mix with your own spit as you began to drool at the feeling of his tip hitting that one spot over and over again.

And that’s when you felt it. You felt the build up, the pressure of holding back becoming too much as you belted into a mess of tears and tried to push his body off your own.

“No baby,” he roughly said, milking his cock into you even harder and rubbing pressured circles into your clit until a strong snapped within you and you saw nothing but white.

You weren’t sure if it was a sub-space you had entered, or some fucked up version of heaven people who just for their brains fucked out go, but either option felt like fair-game the minute your pussy began to squirt a mess of cum and other liquids from the space Dabi still found himself intruding. If anything boosted his confidence, it was this right here.

“Fuck yes baby, squirt for daddy,” he smirked, rubbing you harder and harder as your felt your body stiffen at the overstimulation, “fuck, you’re so hot.”

As soon as you, Dabi found himself cumming harder than he ever had, lips only being able to cry out a mantra of your name. He knew sex with you was amazing— but this was a new high he doesn’t think he’d ever went to let go of. He didn’t even have the energy to lift himself out of you, small drips of cum able to slip out of your swollen pussy making you flinch in both overstimulation and pain. The cockwarming brought chills to your arm, body sprawled underneath Dabi’s panting frame in nothing but a fucked our expression.

You felt him lift his head up, eyes glancing over your puffy closed ones and being able to do nothing more than steal a kiss from your tongue-licked lips. He knows the difference between “fucked-out” you and “genuinely-knocked-out” you, and you knew he knew the difference too. But he acted as if he didn’t.

And before Dabi could pass out on top of your sweaty and sticky frame, words he mumbled into your shoulder nearly burned into your skin. At least, just enough to make your pussy and lips twitch in nothing but contentness.

I crash, you crash. Forever and always.

Sex with Dabi was always the same— sure. It was rough, messy, and painfully over-stimulating, but it was Dabi, and it was more than enough for you.

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi’s heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he’s ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who’s life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi’s harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

“You’re gonna get tired of me one day,” he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, “you’re gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own.”

He wanted to think he wouldn’t care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn’t do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he’s ever known in his life for as long as he’d live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

“Hey,” you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

“You crash, I crash. Always.”

[latenightdecaf]

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him—even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x

[cazzyvintage]

Never break the chain

Synopsis: You were Zemo’s devoted girlfriend, he would take you all over the world and treat you to everything you want in life however that all changed the day Sokiva fell. Consumed by anger Zemo went off the deep end trying to avenge his fallen country and you last saw him being escorted to prison. Years later you became really ill and there was only one thing that could save you. After a lot of searching you finally managed to get your hands on some super soldier serum which saved you however Zemo is now out of prison as is determined to finish what he started no matter what stood in his way.

Warnings/Tags: Bad Zemo, Mentions of guns, Toxic relationship, Almost cried while writing this, Hits in the feelings, Lots of angst, So much angst, Mentions of death

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Hello my fellow masochists *cough* Markiplier *cough*, I for one thrive on sad moments in fics, ones that break my heart. I live off angst and I am sure I am not the only one in this so I have written this angsty Zemo fic. There is no fluff here just sadness so you have been warned. I’m going to write a really sweet and fluff filled one shot after this as an apology. Also warning this relationship is toxic so like obviously I don’t condone Zemo’s behaviour in this, he’s meant to be a dick here.

I got inspired to write this from a song so like if you want extra emotions listen to this: https://youtu.be/1A8YpV1tfsQ

This is also being posted on my ao3 account under the name Casmad

The wind blew sharply against you, the coldness of it scratching your skin. Your eyes water up slightly at the harshness of it and you wrap your arms around your body trying to warm yourself up. You looked out over the cliff, looking over now the deserted area you once called home. Sokovia. Its beautiful landscape is broken and torn apart. An echo of how magnificent it once was. You raise your hand to touch the chain that hung around your neck. A reminder of the past.

“Darling I would be honored if you wore this for me. I have a similar one I’ll always keep around my neck so that even when we are apart, there’s a part of us that will always be together” Zemo asks nervously, swallowing and glancing from the necklace in his hand to your face.

You put your hands onto his, taking the necklace, “I’ll never take it off”

Zemo’s face broke out into a smile, his eyes shining as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He holds you closely as you close your eyes melting into his presence. He kisses the top of your forehead and rests the top of his head on yours. “My beautiful moon” he murmurs

A tear slowly slipped down your cheek as you thought back to better times. You had been so happy with him. You two had planned your whole lives out together. The Baron and Baroness.

“Would you care to accompany me to the ball?” Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.

“Oh I don’t know should I?” you joke, holding your chin in your hand as if questioning it, making Zemo chuckle.

“If you do I promise you can be in charge in the bedroom tonight,” he says as he leans into you. You grin back at him, raising your hand to his suit jacket and pulling him towards you for a kiss. As you feel his lips on yours and his hand rests on your hip you smile into the kiss. As you pull back you swell with happiness seeing a rosy tint to Zemo’s cheeks.

“I suppose turning up to to a ball on the arm of a Baron has its perks”

Zemo laughs and pulls you into a side hug placing a kiss on your temple.

“What would I do without you” he hums to himself as he admires you “My moon”

Everything made sense, everything fit. You couldn’t imagine a life any different till it happened.

You and Zemo had been away visiting a local country when you heard of the news. You collapsed on the floor screaming at the tv as Zemo was on the phone already organizing a trip back home. When you arrived your heart broke seeing all the destruction. Zemo was holding your hand but he let go. It was all gone. Everything. Your whole life had changed just like that.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks yet they continue to flow as you remembered what happened after. The madness and desire for revenge had consumed Zemo. You tried to stop him. You really did but what could you have done?

“Helmut, please. This isn’t healthy...this...this isn’t you!” you cried as Zemo was preparing his attack on the avengers

“Y/n I have to do this. There is no other way” he angrily replied, refusing to look at you.

“I can’t support this” you whisper, grabbing a hold of his arm. “I can’t watch you do this”

Zemo looks at you, his face forlorn as he watches the tears fall from your eyes. He pulls you to his chest wrapping his arm around you and kisses the top of your head, stroking your hair. “I’m not asking you to moon”

You leave the warmth of his arms and watch as he grabs his bags and walks out of your room, giving you one last glimpse of goodbye before he walks out of your life.

That was the last time you saw him in person. The next time it was on the news as he was being arrested. In the end, his plan had succeeded. He split up the avengers but then what? It didn’t bring anyone back. Sokovia was still dead and you were left behind while he was locked up for life.

You close your eyes, squeezing out the remains of your tears, preparing to leave this cliff looking over your deserted town when you hear the sound of a click. You let in a sharp breath of recognition. Slowly turning around your eyes adjust to the barrow of a gun and the person standing behind it.

Zemo.

He still looked the same as you remembered. Though if you stared closely you could see lines showing his age starting to appear, the bags under his eyes were bigger than what they once were however after all this time it was still him. He even wore that ridiculously over-the-top coat that you always stole from him.

His eyes however were different, when you always looked into them in the past they seemed warm, like the feeling of drinking hot chocolate. You could melt in them but now they were stone cold. Emotionless. Like he wasn’t even there.

“Zemo…” you breathed out focusing on him

“I planned to eliminate all superheroes” he states

You shake your head at him, “Zemo please”

“I’ve almost completed my plan to rid the world of superheroes, of ‘super soldiers’”

“Please let me explain,” you say starting to take a step forward to him but he quickly raises his other hand grasping the gun, holding it in both hands now and pointing it at you making you stop in your tracks.

“How could you,” he spits, his lips drawing back in a snarl “How could you become one of them!”

“I had no choice” You rasp, tears starting to flow from your eyes again, “I would have died otherwise”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THAN TAKEN IT” Zemo shouts

The colour drains from your face, your eyes widen in shock staring at him. His jaw tightens as he glares at you. You both stand there in silence taking in what he had said.

Wiping the side of your tear-stained cheek you smile sadly at him, sniffing, you step forward again resting your forehead against the gun.

“Okay” you simply say, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you utter those words

Zemo glares at you, his finger resting on the trigger. The gun starts to shake as he clenches his face in anger.

“DAM IT” he shouts, throwing the gun to the side. His hands grab onto your shoulders roughly, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n. How could you do this to me” He snaps.

You were too shocked to reply to him, causing him to get even angrier. His eyes swarmed with tears and when one threatened to fall he pushed you back and turned away so you wouldn’t see.

You shakily let out a breath you were holding in and collapsed onto your knees. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest and you clenched the sides of your body with your arms in comfort.

Zemo turns back around to you, hatred in his eyes. “I’ve come so far, killing so many just to be stopped here”

“Because you refuse to kill the woman you love” you implored in hope but he shakes his head, “No. Not that”

“Yes, yes that Zemo!” you say shakily getting back up off the ground. “Zemo I still love you though by gods I shouldn’t. We made a promise to each other” you affirmed holding up the chain around your neck, “We were forever Zemo”

Zemo’s finger brushed up against the chain that had been hanging around his neck for the past seven years. They wrap around the chain and in one swift motion, he pulls it off his neck, breaking the chain and throwing it to the ground.

You stare at the broken chain on the floor, your heart dropping. In just one notion it was like all those moments you two spent together were worth nothing. It had led to nothing.

Zemo grabs ahold of your chain and pulls you closer to him, “The truth is, my darling moon, that you don’t love me either”

You try to argue back to him but he raises his finger to your lips, “ah”

“You want to know how I know?”

You don’t say anything, staring at him confused, he leans towards you and automatically you close your eyes however he instead he puts his lips to your ears,

“You’ve been calling me Zemo instead of Helmut”

He lets go of the chain, pushing you away from him again, the force knocking you to the ground.

You think back over your conversation. He was right. When had you started referring him to his last name rather than his first name? You had always called him by his first name before.

You look back up to him, your eyes watering and noticing the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“I spent years in that prison imaging what it would be like to finally get out. To hold you in my arms once again. To have what we once had. It was the only thing that kept me going in there. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain I felt when I found out the truth. The pain of your betrayal. I hated you. I...I” his voice cracked as he started to cry more

He keeps trying to stop letting out a sob yet his mouth can’t help but frown and his face contorted. “I thought I could stop the pain by getting rid of you but I can’t. Even though I can’t stand looking at you I can’t kill you”

He swallows and looks away from you to the chain on the ground, “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You could have said something then. Called out to him. Spoke sense to him. He might have even listened but you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to stop him. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

He turns his back and starts to walk away but stops for a moment, turning his head slightly.

“Goodbye y/n”

[causeiwanttoandican]

Harry, Meghan and me: my truth as a royal reporter

I've covered elections and extremism, but nothing compares to the vitriol I've received since I started writing about the Sussexes

By Camilla Tominey, Associate Editor27 March 2021 • 6:00am

It is probably worth mentioning from the outset that I never, ever, planned to become a royal reporter. I mean, who does? It’s one of those ridiculous jobs most people fall into completely by accident.

I certainly wasn’t coveting the position when I first found out how bonkers the beat could be after covering Charles and Camilla’s wedding in 2005. Desperate for ‘a line’ on what went on at the reception, journalists were reduced to flagging down passing cars in Windsor High Street and interrogating the likes of Stephen Fry about whether they’d had the salmon or the chicken.

Watergate, this wasn’t.

Yet when my former editor called me into his office shortly afterwards and offered me the royal job ‘because you’re called Camilla and you dress nicely’, who was I to refuse?

Having planned to get married myself that summer, and start a family soon afterwards, I looked to the likes of Jennie Bond and Penny Junor and figured it would be a good patch for a working mother as well as being one I could grow old with. Unlike show business, when celebrities are ‘in’ one minute and ‘out’ the next, the royals would stay the same, making it easier to build – and keep – contacts.

So if you’d told me that 16 years later, I would find myself at the centre of a media storm over a royal interview with Oprah Winfrey, I’d have probably laughed in your face. First of all, only royals like Fergie do interviews with Oprah. And since when did journalists become the story?

Yet as I have experienced since the arrival of Meghan Markle on the royal scene in 2016 – a move that roughly coincided with Twitter doubling its 140-character limitation to 280 – royal reporters like me now find themselves in the line of fire like never before.

We are used to the likes of Kate Adie coming under attack in the Middle East, but now it is the correspondents who write up events like Trooping the Colour and the Royal Windsor Horse Show having to take cover from the keyboard warriors supposedly defending the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s ‘truth’.

Accusations of racism have long been levelled against anyone who has dared to write less than undiluted praise of Harry and Meghan. But even I have been taken aback by the vitriol on social media in the wake of the couple’s televised two-hour talk-a-thon, in which they branded both the Royal family and the British press racist while complaining about their ‘almost unsurvivable’ multimillionaire lives at the hands of the evil monarchy. And all while the rest of the UK were losing their loved ones and livelihoods in a global pandemic.

Having covered Brexit, general elections and stories about Islamic extremism, I’ve grown used to being sprayed with viral vomit on a fairly regular basis, but when you’ve got complete strangers trolling your best friend’s Instagram feed by association? That’s Britney Spears levels of toxic.

Having a hind thicker than a rhino’s, it wasn’t the repeated references to my being ‘a total c—’ that particularly bothered me, nor even the suggestion that I should have my three children put up for adoption. At one point someone even said it would be a good idea for me to drink myself to death like my mother, about whose chronic alcoholism I have written extensively.

No, what really got me was the appalling spelling and grammar. I mean, if you’re going to hurl insults, at least have the decency to get my name right.

Yet in order to understand just how it has come to pass that so-called #SussexSquaders think nothing of branding all royal correspondents ‘white supremacists’ regardless of who they write for, or sending hate mail to our email addresses, offices – and in some cases, even our homes – it’s worth briefly going to back to when I first broke the story that Prince Harry was dating an American actor in the Sunday Express on 31 October 2016. Headlined: ‘Royal world exclusive: Harry’s secret romance with TV star’, the splash revealed how the popular prince was ‘secretly dating a stunning US actress, model and human rights campaigner’.

Despite my now apparently being on a par with the Ku Klux Klan for failing to acknowledge Meghan as the next messiah, it was actually not until the fifteenth paragraph of that original article that the ‘confident and intelligent’ Northwestern University graduate was described as ‘the daughter of an African-American mother and a father of Dutch and Irish descent’.

Call me superficial, but I was genuinely far more interested in the fact that Harry ‘I-come-with-baggage’ Wales was dating a former ‘briefcase girl’ from the US version of Deal or No Deal than the colour of her skin. A ginger prince punching well above his weight? This was the stuff of tabloid dreams. Little did I know then that covering the trials and tribulations of these two lovebirds would turn into such a nightmare.

The online hostility began bubbling up about eight days after that first story, when Harry’s then communications secretary Jason Knauf issued an ‘unprecedented’ statement accusing the media of ‘crossing a line’.

‘His girlfriend, Meghan Markle, has been subject to a wave of abuse and harassment’, it read, referencing a ‘smear on the front page of a national newspaper; the racial undertones of comment pieces; and the outright sexism and racism of social media trolls and web article comments’. Meghan’s mother, Doria Ragland, had apparently been besieged by photographers, while bribes had been offered to Meghan’s ex-boyfriend along with ‘the bombardment of nearly every friend, coworker, and loved one in her life’.

Suffice to say, I did feel a bit guilty. Although I hadn’t written anything remotely racist or sexist, I had started the ball rolling for headlines like the MailOnline’s ‘(Almost) straight outta Compton’ (referencing a song by hip-hop group NWA about gang violence and Meghan’s upbringing in the nearby LA district of Crenshaw), along with her ‘exotic’ DNA (which I subsequently called out, including on This Morning in the wake of ‘Megxit’ in January last year).

Omid Scobie, co-author of Finding Freedom, a highly favourable account of the Sussexes’ departure from the Royal family, written with their cooperation last summer, would later insist that the couple knew the story of their relationship was coming out and were well prepared for it.

I can tell you categorically that they weren’t, since I did not even put a call into Kensington Palace before we went to press for fear of it being leaked. (I did later discuss this with Harry, when I covered his trip to the Caribbean in November 2016, and to be fair he was pretty philosophical, agreeing it would have come out sooner or later. But that was before the former Army Captain decided to well and truly shoot the messenger, latterly telling journalists covering the newly-weds’ tax-payer-funded October 2018 tour of Australia and the south Pacific: ‘Thanks for coming, even though you weren’t invited.’)

The royal press pack is the group of dedicated writers who cover all the official engagements and tours on a rota system, in exchange for not bothering the royals as they go about their private business. It was a shame this ragtag bunch, of which I am an associate member, was never personally introduced to Meghan when the couple got engaged in November 2017.

I still have fond memories of a then Kate Middleton, upon her engagement to Prince William in November 2010, showing me her huge sapphire and diamond ring following a press conference at St James’s Palace with the words, ‘It was William’s mother’s so it is very special.’

I replied that she might want to consider buying ‘one of those expanding accordion style file holders’ to organise all her wedding paperwork. (Reader, I had given birth to my second child less than four months earlier and was still lactating.)

Not meeting Meghan did not stop royal commentators like me writing reams about her being ‘a breath of fresh air’ and telling practically every TV show I appeared on that she was the ‘best thing to have happened to the Royal Family in years’.

As the world followed the joyous news of the Windsors’ resident strip billiards star having finally found ‘the one’, the couple enjoyed overwhelmingly positive press culminating in their fairy-tale wedding in May 2018, which we headlined ‘So in love’ above a picture of the bride and groom kissing. I tweeted the wedding front page, along with the original story breaking the news of their relationship with the words, ‘Job done’. Yet, as Meghan would later point out in a glossy Santa Barbara garden, that was by far the end of the story.

According to the Duchess’s testimony before a global audience of millions, the seeds for their royal departure were actually sown by an article I wrote in November 2018 suggesting she made Kate cry during a bridesmaid’s dress fitting for Princess Charlotte.

Claiming the ‘reverse happened’, the former Suits star railed, ‘A few days before the wedding she was upset about something, pertaining to, yes, the issue was correct, about flower-girl dresses, and it made me cry, and it really hurt my feelings.’

She then went on to criticise the palace for failing to correct the story – suggesting that royal aides had hung her out to dry to protect the Duchess of Cambridge.

All of which left me in a bit of a sticky situation. As I told Phillip Schofield on This Morning the following day, ‘I don’t write things I don’t believe to be true and that haven’t been really well sourced.’

Having seemingly been completely bowled over by Meghan’s version of events, Schofe then went for the jugular: ‘I have to say, though, that’s all addressed in that interview, isn’t it, because she [Meghan] couldn’t understand why nobody stood up for her?’

Yet someone had stood up for her, on that very same This Morning sofa: me.

As I told Phil and Holly on 14 January 2019, as more reports of ‘Duchess Difficult’ started to emerge, ‘I think she [Meghan] is doing really well, she looks amazing, she speaks well. She has played a blinder.’

So you’ll forgive me if I can’t quite understand why Meghan didn’t feel the need to correct this supposedly glaring error once she had her own dedicated head of communications from March 2019 – or indeed when she ‘collaborated’ with Scobie, who concluded in his bestselling hagiography that ‘no one cried’?

Moreover, how did the Duchess know a postnatal Kate wasn’t ‘left in tears’? And if she doesn’t know, what hope has the average troll observing events through the prism of their own deep-rooted insecurities?

It appears the actual truth ceases to matter once sides have been taken in the unedifying Team Meghan versus Team Kate battle that has divided the internet.

Make no mistake, there are abject morons at both extremes spewing the sort of bile that, ironically, makes most of the media coverage of Harry and Meghan look like a 1970s edition of Jackie magazine.

It perhaps didn’t help my case that the day before the interview was aired in the US, I had written a lengthy piece carefully weighing up the evidence behind allegations of ‘outrageous bullying’ that had been levelled against Meghan during what proved to be a miserable 20 months in the Royal family for all concerned.

The messages – to my Twitter feed, my email, my website and official Facebook page – ranged from the threatening, to the typical tropes about media ‘scum’ and the downright bizarre. Some accused me of being in cahoots with Carole Middleton, with whom I have never interacted, unless you count a last-minute Party Pieces purchase in a desperate moment of poor parental planning.

Another frequent barb was questioning why the press wasn’t writing about that ‘pedo’ [sic] Prince Andrew instead – seemingly oblivious to the fact that no one would know about the Duke of York’s links to Jeffrey Epstein if it wasn’t for the acres of coverage devoted to the story by us royal hacks over recent years.

It didn’t matter that I had repeatedly torn the Queen’s second, and, some say, favourite son to pieces for everything from his propensity to take his golf clubs on foreign tours to that disastrous Newsnight interview.

Contrary to the ‘invisible contract’ Harry claims the palace has with the press, royal coverage works roughly like this: good royal deeds = good publicity. Bad royal deeds = bad publicity. We effectively act as a critical friend, working on behalf of a public that rightly expects the royals to take the work – but not themselves – seriously.

So when a royal couple preaches about climate change before taking four private jets in 11 days, it is par for the course for a royal scribe to point out the inconsistency of that message. None of it is ever personal, as evidenced by the fact that practically every member of the monarchy has come in for flak over the years.

If Oprah wasn’t willing to point out the discrepancies in Harry and Meghan’s testimony, surely it is beholden on royal reporters to question how the Duchess had managed to undertake four foreign holidays in the six months after her wedding, in addition to official tours to Italy, Canada, and Amsterdam, as well as embarking on a lengthy honeymoon, if she had ‘turned over’ her passport?

While no one would wish to undermine the extent of her mental health problems, could it really be true that she only left the house twice in four months when she managed to cram in 73 days’ worth of engagements, according to the Court Circular, in the 17 months between her wedding and the couple’s departure to Canada?

And what of the ‘racist’ headlines flashed up during the interview purporting to be from the British press, when more than a third were actually taken from independent blogs and the foreign media? The UK media abides by the Independent Press Standards Organisation’s Code of Conduct ‘to avoid prejudicial or pejorative reference to an individual’s race’, as well as by rigorous defamation laws. And rightly so – the British press doesn’t always get it right. But social media is the Wild West by comparison, publishing vile slurs on a daily basis with impunity.

Some therefore find it strange that such a litigious couple would claim to have been ‘silenced’ when they have made so many complaints, including resorting to legal action, over stories they claim not to have even read. There is something similarly contradictory about a couple accusing the tabloids of lacking self-reflection while refusing to take any blame at all – for anything.

In any normal world, informed writing on such matters would be classed as fair comment, but not, seemingly, on Twitter where those completely lacking any objectivity whatsoever are only too willing to virtue signal and manoeuvre.

As the trolling reached fever pitch in the aftermath of the interview, veteran royal reporter Robert Jobson of the Evening Standard called me. ‘Don’t respond to these freaks,’ he advised. ‘It’s getting nasty out there. Watch your back!’

Yet despite my general sense of bewilderment at the menacing Megbots, I can’t say it didn’t appal me to discover a close friend had received online abuse, purely by dint of being my mate. After discussing the lengths the troll must have gone to to track her down, she asked me, ‘Do you ever worry someone might do something awful to you?’ Er, not until now, no.

Of course it’s upsetting, even for a cynical old-timer like me. Worse still are people who actually know me casting aspersions on my profession on social media. Often these are the same charlatans who would think nothing of sidling up to me for the latest gossip on the Royal family, while publicly pretending that reading any such coverage is completely beneath them.

Most pernicious of all though – not least after Piers Morgan’s departure from Good Morning Britain following a complaint to ITV and Ofcom from the Duchess – is the corrosive effect this whole hullabaloo is having on freedom of speech. When you’ve got a former actor effectively editing a British breakfast show from an £11 million Montecito mansion, what next?

I cannot help but think we are in danger of setting race relations back 30 years if people are seriously suggesting that any criticism of Meghan is racially motivated. It’s the hypocrisy that gets me. When Priti Patel was accused of bullying, the very same people who willingly hung the Home Secretary out to dry are now the ones defending Meghan against such claims, saying they have been levelled at her simply because she is ‘a strong woman of colour’.

Of course journalists should take responsibility for everything they report and be held to account for it – but Harry and Meghan do not have a monopoly on the truth simply because the close friend and neighbour who interviewed them in return for £7 million from CBS took what they said as gospel.

If she isn’t willing to probe the disparity between Meghan saying someone questioned the colour of Archie’s skin when she was pregnant, and Harry suggesting it happened before they were even married, then someone must. There’s a name for such scrutiny. It’s called journalism.

The public reserves the right to make up its own mind – with the help of the watchful eye of a free and fair press. But that press can never be free or fair if journalists do not feel they can report without fear or favour. I’m lucky that a lot of the criticism I face is more than balanced out by hugely supportive members of the public and online community who either agree – or respect the right to disagree. Along with the hate mail, I have had many thoughtful and eloquent missives, including those that good naturedly challenge what I have written in the paper or said on TV, which have genuinely given me pause for thought.

I am more than happy to enter into constructive discourse with these correspondents, who are frankly sometimes the only people who keep me on Twitter. I mean, let’s face it, I wouldn’t be anywhere near the bloody thing if this wasn’t my day job.

With the National Union of Journalists this month declaring that harassment and abuse had ‘become normalised’ within the industry, never have members of Britain’s press needed more courage. As Winston Churchill famously said, ‘You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life.’

Who would have thought that the preservation of the fundamental freedoms that we hold so dear should partially rest on the shoulders of those who follow around a 94-year-old woman and her family for a living?

If I’d known then what I know now, would I still have written the bridesmaid’s dress story?

Yes – doubtlessly reflecting sisterly sobs all round. But after two decades in this business, I am clear-eyed enough to know this for certain: whatever I had written, it would still have ended in tears.

[adviceformefromme]

I have a big problem with messaging. I often get so stressed after sending a text (especially with a message that’s important to our relationship or important to me) that I can’t function or be present until the person replies. This problem is magnified if they just “seen” me. It’s only a problem with my ex girlfriend and some close friends. I know it just happens with them but I don’t think it’s got anything to do with them at all and wish that it didn’t happen with them. I think our relationships would be better if it didn’t. I know people have lives and I don’t want to expect them to reply straight away or even reply at all. People have their own stuff going on and that’s great. Yet, I just can’t function when I send a message and really can’t if it gets “seened.” I feel incredibly toxic to myself. It kind of feels like it’s tied to my self worth, that my worth is dependent upon them replying. Any tips?

This a great question, and something I have personally overcome in the past. But I promise you it’s something you can totally overcome with time, effort, and dedication. If you’re committed to your healing and stepping out of this energy you can overcome anything. Practical steps for overcoming text/whatsapp/ left on read anxiety: 1. Stop chasing people. If you're chasing an ex, a guy, a friend, a job. The recipient can feel that energy, even if the message is playing it cool, even if you take your time to respond, people can literally feel whats going on on a subconscious level. Chasing, seeking, needing is a repelling energy. It’s important to get your energy right so you’re not expecting anything in return when you communicate. Focus on raising your vibration so you’re not sending out the wrong frequency when you send a message. This could look like going for a run, to a yoga class, dancing it out. Journalling, doing what you need to do to get your energy right. If you don’t know how to raise your vibration that is the first thing you need to figure out. Communicating from anything less than a good place will only lead to anxiety and neediness. 2. Start seeing those triggering moments of anxiety and panic when you don’t get a reply as blessing. Make the hurt and pain you feel about you. Not about the person who is ignoring you. You are literally being shown where you need to heal. Next time you get triggered, write down what emotions are coming up for you. Rejection, abandonment, insecure, unsafe etc. Once you notice your emotions, you can use these for your healing work later on. You can reverse these emotions daily by using affirmations to write a new story. “I am safe, I am loved, I am cherished, I am wanted, I love me, I am enough”. If you can get some prayer beads you can use these to help run through the affirmations which will start to re-programme your subconscious mind. 3. Start journaling with your inner child. There is a wounded little you inside that is feeling unsafe and unwanted. You have to learn to re-parent your inner child. Whatever happened to you in your past is unhealed and that’s why you're feeling so triggered. Use a journal or your phone to open dialogue with your inner child, it sounds crazy, but in those moments of deep pain and hurt this works like magic. Your inner child wants to be seen, it wants to know they are safe, protected. Ask questions like “how are you feeling, what do you need from me, how can i support you” you will get the answers. Your inner child will respond. Close the dialogue by telling your inner child you love them and are here for them. This was the first book I read on inner child and it really helped me alot. 4. Start showing yourself love. What would your life look like if you really loved you? If you truly loved your body, would you eat the food you do? If you loved and respected your time, would you spend your day how you do? If you really loved your life would you be living it how you live? You can write a new story, make this next chapter of your life truly special. Get clear on how you sabotage your life on a daily basis, and start injecting things you love and showing yourself love and your life will change. The universe will respond to your energy. This might seem disconnected to your whatsapp pain but its all connected. When you feel good and love yourself, you send out a different energy, you move out of the old energy and into a new space. You respond differently, you feel different. 5. Seek therapy, I know this isn’t possible for everyone as it can be expensive, but if you can get therapy I recommend it. A therapist can work through your past traumas and help you heal (specifically cognitive behavioural therapy). Other healing options, energy healers (reiki), meditation, guided mediations on youtube, reading, journaling, finding a mentor. I hope this helps, DM me if you need more support. 💕