#Anyway I love her and I needed to show her off
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zyafics-recs · 2 hours ago
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i know this gonna break my heart... sigh... taking deep breaths... let's go ⬇️
It was almost easy, something he wouldn’t have believed a few years back when everything he touched seemed to go up in flames. There’d been a time when he was just too much—angry, impulsive, doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.
first and foremost, i love the characterization of rafe. something about ur interpretation of him feels so lively and real, especially because it relates to his canon. when i was reading thru his thoughts, i was like, woah, rafe would act this way.
He’d been selfish, reckless, it was intense, way too intense, and when you fought, it was like you were both throwing grenades, just waiting to see who’d blow up first. You’d pushed him away, he’d pushed you harder, and you’d both crossed lines that should’ve never even been close.
i love the line throwing grenades, waiting for who to blow up first. ur metaphors have always been some of my favorites, so i always love highlighting and pointing it out <3
Rafe didn’t know what the fuck to feel when he got the news. He knew what he was supposed to feel, right? He’d done it before with his mom, now it was his dad’s turn. The man who had raised him, the one to teach him everything he knew about how the world worked, even if it wasn’t pretty. 
i love the turn of internal conflict, that rafe - who has always been loyal as a dog to ward - can have his own conflicting emotions about his father
Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect.  To Rafe, that meant something. Everything
but at the end of the day, rafe recognizes that he has to set his father on a pedestal because that's all he's ever done. all he'll ever do.
At first, it was subtle—small things. He’d catch you looking at him like you didn’t quite get him anymore. You’d pull away when he needed you to listen, when he was ranting about Ward, and even though you tried to hide it, Rafe could see the dissociation.
that actually hurts, the idea that you're dissociating, going somewhere where he can't follow u? oh the miseryyy
He wasn’t perfect, but he was the only father Rafe had ever known. He was gone all of a sudden and that was what had hurt the most—knowing he’d never get the approval he’d always been chasing, even when he was clean, even when he was doing better. There was no fixing that. 
i love u pointing out the validation-seeking 🙂‍↕️
Three weeks after the funeral he spent his days surrounded by a few bottles of scotch he’d stolen right out of his dad’s stash. Who was gonna stop him now, anyway? He almost laughed. Three years clean. Shit, that was something, wasn’t it?
this is such a bitter moment, but it's also shows how rafe just reverts back to his younger self in the presence of his father. that even if ward's death, he will continue to haunt the narrative. also, "shit, that was something, wasn't it?" was such a bitter realization.
Every time he saw himself— on a window, mirror, whatever—he had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.
HE SAW HIS FATHER
Half the people were staring, too. Waiting to see if he was gonna go off, if he was back to the same volatile Rafe he used to be, the one they loved watching spin out. And just when he thought he could ignore it, some random pogue, scruffy, half-drunk, threw out a comment loud enough for the whole group around him to hear.
i love the depiction of seeing rafe as nothing more than a prop, an entertainment for the rest of the kooks. it gives u this zoo-like viewing of rafe rather than human.
It didn’t matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his father’s name was rolling off this nobody’s lips.
he's so protective over his father
“And you,” you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.” 
I LOVE HER FOR THIS SOMETHING ABOUT THIS OWNS MY HEART
You took a step forward, finger pointed at your chest, “Don’t I? Because I remember standing in this very house, watching him tear you down every chance he got. You’re so busy mourning this man who treated you like shit, that you’re pushing the people who care about you away. It’s not just me. It’s everyone.”
she's real and she should speak on it
“Don’t you dare roll your fucking eyes at me,” you retaliated, stepping up beside him. “I stood by you through all of it, I’m not gonna stand here and watch you kill yourself because of him. He’s the reason you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time, why you’re always trying to prove yourself to people who don’t deserve it. And now he’s gone, and you still can’t see it. You’re still trying to be good enough for him!”
i love her but god that must've hurt
His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”
i love that he only picked up the things that he hears, not the fact that he's blind to see it, but rather accusing him of being "dumb"
His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”
he has such self-destructive tendencies omg
“Don’t. Don’t you dare try to make this about me,” he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. “You don’t get to make me the villain in your story just because you’re tired of playing my fucking hero.”
i love their arguments so much, because it's so bitter, and resentful, and sharp and it cuts so deep. that's one of my favorite things about this series, is when they're talking, they're going all in
That shitty plan had gone down the drain once he saw you speed away at that party with absolutely no regard for your safety or Topper’s. He’d seen that wild look in your eyes before—the one that said you were about to burn it all down. Or when your dad’s gala came around, and he couldn’t sleep properly knowing he wasn’t going to be there that year, knowing how you spiraled every time you had to step on that stage.
SOMETHINGS WRONG GO HELP HER
But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting? 
my favorite line
He blinked, thrown off. “I broke her heart? She broke mine!” He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. “I did us a favor. We were just—”
he's hurt too (but he's a dick) but he's hurt too 🥹
He had no reason to stay, you’d made it clear as day. He was supposed to be gone—out of your life for good. You’d told him you didn’t need him, he told you he didn’t need you. So why the hell was he still standing here? 
i love the lingering love, especially because i believe rafe to be the type of person who cannot mourn loss whatsoever, he keeps it in his chest forever, when he loves someone, he'll love them forever
“I don’t think that’s the problem,” she murmured, with a knowing sadness. “I think the problem is that you two will never stop loving each other. He’s still hurting from dad’s passing, he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And you—you’re here, angry that he loved my dad so much, hurt that he left, trying to protect me from him, still worrying about me when you should be focusing on yourself. You’re scared he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s scared you don’t need him at all."
ONE OF THE BANGER LINES OF THIS PART AHHH
“You’re allowed to be someone without him, and you’re allowed to find out who that is.”
oooo i love this, sometimes i be forgetting they're toxic.
💌 — i love love their argument in this one. i love how u manage to capture rafe's essence with this characterization, especially post-ward, because i often don't read a lot of fics with ward being a dead presence but haunting the narrative. and that make rafe's viewpoint so conflicting, especially since he's trying to grieve but come to terms on who his father is. i absolutely love how u build up to their breaking point, because they have all these things festering under the surface that neither are willing to talk about until someone breaks, and that's how their relationship dynamic is. every time we get to see an insider scope of rafe's head, i am amazed, because the way he analyzes things, flowing from one thought to the next, makes sense. he's insecure, he's grieving, he's angry, and all of these emotions are hitting him at full-force and no one is allowing him the proper space to actually deal with them—especially because ward never did. and when their argument was just bitter shots at one another, just to hurt each other, you know it hurt. oh oh, gigi, u amaze and fascinate me so much!!
LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SIX
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care; drug and alcohol addiction;
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Rafe had been clean for the past three years.
Over the course of the year, things between him and you had been smooth sailing. 
It was almost easy, something he wouldn’t have believed a few years back when everything he touched seemed to go up in flames. There’d been a time when he was just too much—angry, impulsive, doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.
He’d been selfish, reckless, it was intense, way too intense, and when you fought, it was like you were both throwing grenades, just waiting to see who’d blow up first. You’d pushed him away, he’d pushed you harder, and you’d both crossed lines that should’ve never even been close.
Eventually, both of you learned to talk instead of shouting, learned when to back down instead of pushing buttons just to get a reaction. You’d gotten better at letting each other breathe. He’d pull back when he felt himself getting heated, and you’d do the same.
It wasn’t perfect; sometimes you’d still get into it, still end up in an argument that felt like old times, but it was different. There were no more lines on the bathroom counter, no disappearing at all hours. 
Until Ward died. 
Rafe didn’t know what the fuck to feel when he got the news. He knew what he was supposed to feel, right? He’d done it before with his mom, now it was his dad’s turn. The man who had raised him, the one to teach him everything he knew about how the world worked, even if it wasn’t pretty. 
Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect. 
To Rafe, that meant something. Everything. 
Ward had shaped him, he couldn’t just forget that, couldn’t act like that wasn’t important.
At first, you were there for him, no question. 
He knew you hated Ward, you barely tolerated the thought of him even existing in the same room as you. You spent those first few weeks with him, making sure he didn’t spiral back into the shit that nearly destroyed him. He needed the support, even if he didn’t always know how to ask for it.
You were there, holding it down. You got through it, the late-night talk, but then, you started getting distant.
At first, it was subtle—small things. He’d catch you looking at him like you didn’t quite get him anymore. You’d pull away when he needed you to listen, when he was ranting about Ward, and even though you tried to hide it, Rafe could see the dissociation.
He pretended he didn’t sense it, tried to tell himself you’d come around. 
After all, this was his grief, and no one else was going to understand it the way he did. His dad had been everything to him—maybe not in the way you thought he should’ve been, but that was just the reality of it.
For the first time in years, it felt like you weren’t there with him. It didn’t make sense to him how you couldn’t see it. 
Ward had been a tough guy, sure, cruel sometimes, but he was also a provider, a father who tried to teach him how to survive, even if it didn’t always come wrapped in the right way.
He wasn’t perfect, but he was the only father Rafe had ever known. He was gone all of a sudden and that was what had hurt the most—knowing he’d never get the approval he’d always been chasing, even when he was clean, even when he was doing better. There was no fixing that. 
He wanted to mourn in peace, but no one seemed to understand why Ward still mattered to him, not even Sarah.
Three weeks after the funeral he spent his days surrounded by a few bottles of scotch he’d stolen right out of his dad’s stash. Who was gonna stop him now, anyway? He almost laughed. Three years clean. Shit, that was something, wasn’t it?
He’d had people telling him he wouldn’t make it three weeks, let alone three years. Shit, his dad sure didn’t think he’d get this far. Only you.
Rafe squinted at the amber liquid swirling in his glass, then leaned back in the worn leather of his dad’s old armchair. It felt weird being in here, in his chair, in his office, breathing in that persistent smell of old cigars and varnish.
After the whole “funeral”, with everyone looking at him like he was a wild animal about to snap, this was the only place he could sit without someone judging him.
If you’re so clean, why are you drinking yourself half to death? He took a slow sip, letting it burn down his throat. 
It wasn’t like it used to be, that high that hit fast and hard, and didn’t care if it broke him apart.
This was different, a slower, quieter process.
Besides, he was in control this time. Just a drink, he told himself, fingers tightening around the glass. No powder, no pills. That was progress.
So what if he had to take the edge off? Who wouldn’t, if they’d just said goodbye to their only living parent and had to look at their younger sisters crying like that? 
He was practically swimming in alcohol. Rafe knew he was overdoing it, but he didn’t care.
Every time he saw himself— on a window, mirror, whatever—he had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.
Grounded.
Nobody understood him; they just kept looking at him with that worried face, like he was on the verge of losing it like he used to when he was younger. Maybe he already had.
You watched him—really watched him—and yeah, he could tell you were pissed. He saw it in that little wrinkle between your eyebrows every time he took another sip. But you didn’t say anything. 
Even Wheezie was on his case in her quiet way.
She was hanging around, throwing out old jokes and trying to make him smile, but he barely reacted. She was looking at him like she was scared, as if he was some stranger she was trying not to set off. And he hated that—God, he fucking hated it. So he kept his distance, hoped she would back off, let him get through this his way.
But then came that night at the beach bonfire, when everything changed.
He probably shouldn’t have gone, but he needed to get out and feel normal again—even if that just implied showing up and pretending, he was fine. He dragged you along, flashing that cocky grin you could see right through, but you followed anyway, probably just to keep an eye on him. He could feel it—the way you were watching him, worried as hell, that just made him want another drink.
Half the people were staring, too. Waiting to see if he was gonna go off, if he was back to the same volatile Rafe he used to be, the one they loved watching spin out. And just when he thought he could ignore it, some random pogue, scruffy, half-drunk, threw out a comment loud enough for the whole group around him to hear.
“Guess Ward Cameron finally found some gold he couldn’t buy his way out of, huh? What was he thinking, running off to some country where people don’t just take bribes? Practically killed himself.”
It took everything in him not to lunge right there, but he was too plastered to keep the anger off his face. He pushed his way over to the guy, hands clenched into fists.
“You got something you want to say to my fuckin’ face?”
The guy shrugged, muttering something under his breath, people were looking now, everyone watching to see if he was finally going to give them a show.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was shoving him back, hard enough that the dude stumbled, beer splashing out of his cup. The crowd around them stirred, murmurs, but nobody did a thing—they were just staring, waiting to see the blood spill. He felt tempted to hurt someone, felt that cameron fury crawling up his throat.
It didn’t matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his father’s name was rolling off this nobody’s lips.
He felt you grab his arm, long nails digging hard enough to pull him back, he jerked his shoulder, trying to shake you off, but you weren’t letting go.
“You’re gonna waste your time on him?”
Rafe gritted his teeth, but you didn’t give him a chance to argue. You hauled him back, forcing him away from the guy, who was still standing there with that smug look plastered on his face. 
“Get out. Now,” you urged him, voice calm but with the tone that even he didn’t want to test. He glared at you, mouth opening to argue, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “Rafe. Now.”
You were mad at him.
It was enough to knock some sense into him, and he let you reel him away, but not before you turned back.
“And you,” you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.” 
There was no bluff, no hesitation, and Rafe watched as the pogue’s smug expression dropped instantly, eyes widening as he realized you were dead serious, your family’s name always had an impact around town, old money and all.
As you dragged him to the car, he muttered that he didn’t need you playing bodyguard, but you ignored it, taking him out of the spotlight he hated but couldn’t seem to avoid.
His head was spinning, his blood boiling, and he couldn’t even look at you, not with how angry he felt.
By the time you pulled up to his house, you got out, guiding him inside with that hard, that silent determination he both hated and admired in you. 
You were there, right behind him with that look on your face—angry, disappointed, like he was missing something big, as if he was the one who didn’t get it.
He stumbled into the bathroom, holding himself against the sink, and before he could even catch his breath, you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water in his face. He jerked back, sputtering, wiping it with the back of his hand. When he looked at you, his anger burned again.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped.
“My problem?” you scoffed head already shaking, “Are you serious?”
“You don’t get it,” he growled, barely controlling the rage, the shame—everything. “You don’t know a fuckin’ thing about him. I had the right to defend him.”
You took a step forward, finger pointed at your chest, “Don’t I? Because I remember standing in this very house, watching him tear you down every chance he got. You’re so busy mourning this man who treated you like shit, that you’re pushing the people who care about you away. It’s not just me. It’s everyone.”
Rafe laughed bitterly, the sound humorless. “Oh, here we go,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the sink, gripping the edge hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.
“Don’t you dare roll your fucking eyes at me,” you retaliated, stepping up beside him. “I stood by you through all of it, I’m not gonna stand here and watch you kill yourself because of him. He’s the reason you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time, why you’re always trying to prove yourself to people who don’t deserve it. And now he’s gone, and you still can’t see it. You’re still trying to be good enough for him!”
He didn’t look at you, didn’t want to see the indignation—or worse, the pity—in your eyes.
“Just stop,” he muttered, but you were past listening.
“No, I won’t stop. I can’t. I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself again. You’re better than this.”
He suddenly pushed himself away from the sink, and turned to face you, his blue eyes practically black with a hurt that was older and deeper than either of you could touch.
“You don’t get to stand there and tell me what I deserve.”
“I know what you deserve.” 
He scoffed, rolling his eyes again, though his face had gone a shade paler. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” he sneered. “Think you know what’s best for me? Get off your high horse.”
“You’re damn fucking right I know better than you do, I’m not the one who’s drowning every night in some pathetic tribute to a man who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”
He could feel it now, the bitterness you’d been hiding for weeks. It wasn’t just about him drinking himself stupid. It was everything—every fucking thing you’d been ignoring, it had festered between you two while you pretended things were okay.
“You’re the one who’s just tired of me, of everything that comes with me.”
You took a step back, eyes narrowing, but you didn’t flinch.
“What?” Your rage momentarily dialed down, the sound gurgling, “You think I’m tired of you? I’ve been here this whole time, trying to make you see the truth, but you won’t even look at me. You won’t let me in. You’re too fucking blind to notice.”
His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.
“You don’t get it! I didn’t need you to fix me, I needed someone to stay. But instead, you—" His voice cracked, the anger choking him up, "Instead, you started to make me feel like I was a b-burden. Some mess you had to clean up. How am I supposed to deal with that, huh?"
You were shaking your head, your eyes had already been filled with tears, your chest suffocating.
“I’ve been here. I’ve been standing right next to you, waiting for you to pull your shit together. I didn’t walk away. You did.
His stomach churned, as if you’d taken every inch of space in his chest and twisted it, just for fun. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue with you. Not really. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit, so obsessed with keeping everyone out, that he hadn’t even seen how far you’d already gone.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare try to make this about me,” he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. “You don’t get to make me the villain in your story just because you’re tired of playing my fucking hero.”
“I’m not trying to play the hero!” you screamed, stepping closer, your eyes were cold. “I’m trying to help you see that you have to fix this. Not me. Not anyone else. But you. And if you’re so fucking broken you can’t see that, then maybe you really don’t need me.”
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Rafe could feel his heart racing, that agonizing coil in his chest, but he couldn’t stop.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, voice quieter, but just as venomous.
He turned his back on you, walking to the door. The sound of his boots clamped against the wood floor like a countdown.
“Maybe I don’t. Grab your shit and go.”
"Don’t you fucking—" you snarled, but he was already moving, grabbing your jacket off the hook by the door and throwing it your way, “You know what? Fine. Maybe I will.” You shoved that stupid thing on, hands shaking as you yanked the zipper up. “Don’t come running back in two days like you always do. Don’t come crawling back.”
Rafe paused, hand on the doorknob, his jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle ticking.
He didn’t turn around, didn’t look back at you.
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”
“Good. Because I stopped feeling sorry for you a long time ago,” you replied sharply, every syllable punctuated with weeks of resentment. “What I feel now? That’s just disappointment.”
You watched his shoulders lock up; his whole body wound so tight it was like he was one wrong look away from completely losing it. He didn’t turn around either, even as you slipped out the door, but he knew.
That was it.
Two moths later, almost three, he was standing in front of the ER pacing like a complete fucking idiot after you passed out in his arms earlier.
He’d told himself he’d stay away, make it easy for both of you. 
That shitty plan had gone down the drain once he saw you speed away at that party with absolutely no regard for your safety or Topper’s. He’d seen that wild look in your eyes before—the one that said you were about to burn it all down. Or when your dad’s gala came around, and he couldn’t sleep properly knowing he wasn’t going to be there that year, knowing how you spiraled every time you had to step on that stage.
He had stupidly thought that maybe, one day, you two could still be friends. But today? That shit blew up in his face, for the second time in the span of a week.
He forgot what you could invoke in him when you were standing merely an inch away. He promised himself that he’d moved on, forced to consider that the love of his life might not be someone he could spend his lifetime with. Maybe you weren’t meant for each other.
But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting? 
No, no, no.
Sofia was what he needed.
Someone who didn’t know shit about his past, who didn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer. She hadn’t seen him the way you had, hadn’t been there through every drunken rant and punch he’d thrown at the wall or someone’s face, hadn’t heard him rail against his dad or drag himself back from one of his darkest nights. 
She hadn’t called him a fucking idiot when he chose to throw his father’s ashes on the ocean. She wasn’t going to call him a coward for it. She didn’t have a clue about any of it, and that was supposed to be what he wanted.
He looked up at the ER doors for the millionth time in the past hour, his fingers clenched around his jeep keys so tight they left marks on his hand.
It was over between you two. He’d make sure to keep the fucking distance, two whole months. If he didn’t give you enough closure, you’d hate him faster and you’d both get over it. 
So why the fuck was he about to set the whole hospital on fire as he watched John B’s beat up twinkie pull up to the parking area? It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. 
Of course you’d call her, his own sister—his father's favorite.
Sarah had always been the golden child, Ward’s little angel who could do no wrong, while he was the family screw-up. Even now, you’d picked her, just like Ward would have. 
He didn’t think before he moved, closing the distance between him them in seconds. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He barked right up in her face, daring her to explain herself.
Sarah didn’t back down, though. She just looked up at him with that same cool, level expression she always had whenever he tried to get a rise out of her. 
“I’m here because she called me.”
“She called you?” He scoffed, eyebrows pulling together in disbelief. “You? She called you?” He took a step closer, “So what, you’re her savior now or some shit? Why the hell would she call you if I’m right here?” His eyes narrowed, searching her face like he couldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding me?”
Sarah threw her hands up, a look of pure exasperation on her face.
“Are you dense, Rafe? You’re with someone else! Why would she want the guy who broke her heart to drive her home?”
He blinked, thrown off. “I broke her heart? She broke mine!” He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. “I did us a favor. We were just—”
“Oh, right. A favor?” Sarah cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That why you’re pacing out here like a goddamn lunatic?”
“Go away. I’m driving her home.”
She stepped closer, her voice steely as she looked him dead in the eye.
“No. She called me, she wants me here. Not you. So do yourself a real favor and go home before you do something even more stupid.”
A breathless chuckle escaped his lips, “She already hates me, Sarah. What’s the fucking harm, huh?” He threw his arms out, as if daring her to come up with an answer that would hurt less. “What’s one more screw-up on top of everything else?”
“You’re real dumb if you believe that. But if you wanna make it worse, then by all means, go ahead. You’ll just prove her right.”
He stayed rooted in place, chest heaving, the conflict ripping him to pieces. His hands shook, his throat tight with words he couldn’t even begin to understand.
But Sarah had already turned her back on him, heading toward the entrance.
“Walk away,” she warned him, looking over her shoulder, “That’s the only thing left for you to do right now.”
Rafe didn’t know why the fuck he listened to her.
It was as if his body had already made that decision for him, understanding that if he didn’t leave right then, he’d end up doing something stupid—something even more fucked up than what he’d already done. His tongue was locked in place, a curse on the tip of his pursed lips, but it never came. 
His feet wouldn’t move, his hands stayed at his sides, and that tightness in his throat wouldn’t let him get a single word out, not one that would make any fucking sense. He hated that. Hated that you still had this kind of control over him.
Hated that he just…felt like something was wrong.
You hadn’t been this frantic, so impulsive since he had to take you home after your sister passed. He didn’t want to remember that night—you damn near threw yourself out of his truck.
But he couldn’t ignore the memory, the desperation on your face, the screams, the fight in his grip as he pulled you by your shirt back inside.
He’d felt like he was holding on to something breaking apart in his hands, something he couldn’t fix but couldn’t let go of either. He’d seen it again in your eyes when he’d caught you earlier at the beach clean-up, the way you’d tried to dodge his stare, voice cracking, legs wobbling when he mentioned the hospital. 
Rafe still felt like he’d swallowed shattered pieces of glass every time he thought about you. And if he could just push it down, if he could just get through one fucking day without looking back, maybe he’d start to forget you.
His feet were glued to the hospital pavement, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. If you were about to crash, if this was anything like before…He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do.
He had no reason to stay, you’d made it clear as day. He was supposed to be gone—out of your life for good. You’d told him you didn’t need him, he told you he didn’t need you. So why the hell was he still standing here? 
Perhaps because he remembered the last time he’d let you walk out, the way he’d watched you disappear, thinking he was doing the right thing—giving you the clean end you’d both needed.
Maybe that made him sick to his stomach now, thinking of you in there with Sarah, telling his sister things you wouldn’t say to him, letting her be the person he once was to you.
But you’d called her, not him. You’d picked Sarah to be here, and that hurt like a bitch, but it was what he’d asked for, wasn’t it?
This was what he deserved. He told you to grab your shit and go, forced you to leave because that was supposed to make it easier.
He’d impulsively made his choice the minute he’d wrapped his arm around Sofia, pulling her close in front of everyone who’d once known he was yours. He’d talked himself into it. It was the right call, moving on was the only way to finally get you out of his system. 
He was the one who decided it’d be easier to act like he forgot you than to actually try. He thought he could make it easy—pain-free.
Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked back toward his Jeep. He gripped the door handle so hard he could break it in half if he wanted to, feeling his knuckles strain.
If he let go, if he closed that door and stormed inside, he’d just be right back where he started.
He stared at his reflection in the window, his hardened face staring back. His pulse was pounding in his temples, his gut twisting and turning as he tried to bury it all six feet under—the need to just go to you, to hold your hand or yell at you for making him care so fucking much.
He finally released the death grip he had on the door handle, forcing his fingers to relax, his knuckles still throbbing. He slid into the driver’s seat, the cold leather you’d help him choose, mocking at his skin as he slammed the door shut.
With a quick flick of his wrist, he threw the car into drive, the tires screeching as he peeled out of the parking lot.
He drove like he was being hunted down. He wanted to get as far away from that place as possible, praying the miles between him and you would stop the churning inside him. 
You’ll just prove her right.
He hated her for saying it, hated Sarah for knowing exactly what buttons to push. 
As he rounded a curve, his headlights swept across Topper’s house. Rafe cut the engine and stalked toward the backyard. Topper’s sprawled-out form on a reclining chair, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses somehow still on evenly.
He stomped up and smacked the end of his chair.
"Wake the fuck up."
He jolted, nearly tumbling off the chair, ripping his sunglasses off and squinting up at him. “Jesus fucking christ, dude, ever heard of calling ahead?”
But Rafe didn’t answer. He just paced, hands in his growing hair, digging into his scalp like he could rip the frustration out of his skull. Topper sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, he didn’t even look at him, just kept muttering to himself, biting his lip, pacing.
“What the hell happened?”
Finally, he stopped, “I need you to find out what’s wrong with your cousin,” he muttered, not wanting to admit he cared enough to ask.
Topper blinked, brow furrowing. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with her?”
Rafe only shook his head, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. “I don’t know, okay? She just…she’s acting off. And I can’t—I’m not supposed to care, Top. I’m not. I’m with Sofia now, alright? But she’s still…” His voice trailed off, as he scrubbed a hand down it.
Topper tilted his head, eyeing him knowingly.
“Right, yeah, whatever you say. I’ll figure it out.”
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If Sarah Cameron didn’t walk through that hospital door within the next three minutes, you’d lose all the courage you’d summoned over the last hours. Or was it just an hour? You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying there, the IV needle taped uncomfortably into your arm. 
Your fingers curled into the thin blanket draped over you, and you wished—desperately—that you didn’t feel so…empty.
Ten minutes later, she strode in with a glance at the door, as if she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get there on time. The relief on her face when she saw you was reassuring but it only made the confusion in your chest heavier.
She was so different from Rafe, yet still looked so much like him. She sat in the chair by the bed, eyes scanning your face like she was trying to gauge just how bad it was.
“Hi.”
You swallowed, blinking up at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.
“Thanks for coming.” 
“Of course,” She reached for your hand where it lay on top of the blanket, hesitating for a split second before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?” 
You felt a laugh bubble up, “Not even a little.”
She let out a small breath and nodded, squeezing your hand again. “I figured,” she said quietly, and you appreciated that she didn’t pretend to have some miracle answer, “I made him leave.”
She’d made him leave.
You could imagine his face distorted with anger.
You wondered if he’d put up a fight or if he’d just walked away,  giving in to his sister in that infuriating, self-pitying silence he’d perfected.
You weren’t going to ask, the less you knew, the better.
“Good.” You were relieved, but it felt bittersweet, “I didn’t want him here.” 
Except your voice shook, like it simply had to let her know you were lying.
You’d been telling yourself for so long that you didn’t need him—that you didn’t want him anywhere near you. But the second you pictured him there, waiting… God, you hated yourself.
Hated that tiny, pathetic part of you that still wanted him to care, even if it was just a sliver of anything that wasn’t anger or flat-out ignoring you.
“He threw a hissy fight, but don’t worry. He’s not coming back.”
You nodded, half in agreement, half in frustration, “He never listens.”
“Especially when it matters,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes. “I swear, sometimes I think he just likes to make things worse for himself. And everyone else.”
You recalled the sound of his footsteps trailing yours earlier, the way his hand had hovered near you when you swayed, the wild look on his face when you told him to back off. He had seemed…hurt. Like he wanted to fix something he’d already smashed to pieces.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
She respected that—she wouldn’t insist. There was a lot to unpack when it came to Rafe, but you didn’t need to go there right now. She could tell.
"Okay. Do you want to tell me why you called me and not Topper?”
There wasn’t any judgment in her tone—just plain curiosity, confusion. And you couldn’t blame her. If the roles were reversed, you’d be asking the same thing.
You had to bite your lips to avoid crying for the hundredth time that day. You hadn’t planned on telling someone the biggest secret of your life in a public space, or after nearly having a mental breakdown.
Not like this, with the IV in your arm.
"I—" you started, the words tangled in your throat. "I don't trust him," you admitted quietly, "I don’t trust him with this.”
This.
You turned your head to look out the window, the late afternoon light pouring through the blinds, but it never touched the void you felt inside. 
“He’s too close. He wouldn’t get it. I needed someone who could just… not be involved, you know? I mean—You’re still his sister but—”
Sarah’s already frowning, interrupting your pitying party, “Sweet girl, you don’t have to explain your reasons to me. I’m listening either way. I don’t know what’s going on, but I get it, I understand why you’d want to keep him out of this.”
“You’re the only one I can trust to keep this a secret,” you confessed, “If anyone finds out—if Rafe finds out—it’s over. I’m not ready for that.”
A shadow crossed Sarah’s face, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t ask questions about what you meant—about how Rafe had ruined things before. She didn’t need to. 
“I won’t tell him,” Sarah promised, her grip tightening on your skin. “It’s safe with me. I’ve got your back.”
You closed your eyes, breathing out slowly.
This was hard, harder than anything you’d ever done before, and that was saying something considering all the shit you went through when your family died. She had no idea what you were about to say, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it would change everything between you—between you and her, and you and everyone else.
"Sara, I—" The truth choked you once more, cutting you off. You couldn’t breathe.
Your chest felt vacant, something was missing, something that you didn’t know how to fix, but you had to say it. It was the only way out.
“Are you—" she started to ask, but you quickly shook your head. You could hear the hesitation in her voice.
"Just… just let me tell you,” You begged, pushing the words out before you lost them. “I-I’m pregnant,” you finally blurted out, as if confessing it all at once could make it easier.
But it didn’t. 
You didn’t dare look at Sarah right away. 
Your eyes were stuck on the ceiling, blinking rapidly, you didn’t need her to see how much this was breaking you or how terrified you were. You could feel her eyes on you now, and your hand clenched around the blanket, your knuckles white from the lack of circulation. 
Then, slowly, Sarah squeezed your hand again, she was giving you a moment to breathe, even though you didn’t feel like you deserved it.
“Rafe’s?” she asked quietly, confirming what you already knew she understood.
You nodded, not needing to say it aloud; she could sense the truth in the way your chest hitched, how you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.
“God,” Sarah breathed out, "And you... you want to...?"
You nodded again. She wasn’t asking if you were sure; you could hear it in the hesitation of her question. She was asking if you were ready to make the choice.
“I don’t want this,” you choked out, the tears finally breaking free. “I can’t have it, Sarah. I can’t. I’m not ready for that. I’m not sure I even know what I want anymore," you spit the doubt out with the brokenness you felt, wiping the traitorous tear that traced down your cheek. "I don’t know what to do."
“I’m here. Whatever you need, however you need to do this—I’m here,” she promised, making sure you wouldn’t float away.
“I can’t… I just… I don’t want him to find out,” you managed between shallow breaths. “If he knew, he’d… I don’t know what he’d do. Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t want him to look at me like… like he owns me something.”
Sarah nodded, not a hint of judgment on her face, “He won’t know a thing from me, I swear. He’ll never have any say in this, not unless you want him to. This is your choice, no one else’s.”
You didn’t know you’d been holding your breath, but it came out all at once in a shaky exhale.
“Thank you. I just… I didn’t know who else I could ask.”
“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle. “This? This is exactly what I’m here for. I’ve got you, no matter what.”
The empathy there, the way she held space for all your broken pieces.
“New Mexico’s clinic rules… they won’t let me go through with it alone. They said I need someone with me.” You took a shaky breath. “I can’t imagine anyone else but you there, Sarah.”
“Then I’ll be there,” she said, without hesitation. “I’ll get the tickets, we’ll go together. And if you feel like breaking down, then break down, because you don’t have to keep any of this in anymore.”
Her words broke something in you that had been holding everything so tightly. The relief, the gratitude— “You’re really… You’d really do this for me?”
“Of course,” she murmured, pulling you close so your head rested against her shoulder, her fingers brushing through your hair soothingly. “Sweet girl, I’d do this a thousand times over.”
“I mean—he’s your brother. I don’t want to mess things up between you two even more.”
She sighed, giving a small, sad smile, almost like she’d been waiting for you to say that. “You think he’s my priority right now? Don’t you worry about me and him, we always figure it out. Trust me, I’m used to it.”
“He might hate me for this. And if he takes that out on you…” You couldn’t finish.
“Listen to me,” she sighed, “I’m here because I care about you. Rafe and I, we’ll always have our issues—he’s stubborn, and he thinks he has all the answers. But that’s our problem. He’ll never have a say over what I do or who I’m there for. Especially not with this.”
You swallowed hard, “I don’t want you to regret it.”
She gave a wry laugh, brushing a piece of hair back from your face. “You don’t have to protect me from him, remember? He’s my brother, yeah, I love him despite all our shit, but I’m not here for him right now. I’m here for you.”
“You’re sure?” you asked, the question a whisper, almost childlike. You were afraid of the answer, terrified she’d eventually pull away.
“Of course I’m sure,” she replied, tilting your chin so you’d meet her eyes. “Whatever’s going on with Rafe will figure itself out—But right now, you need someone who’s all in, no strings, no doubts. That’s me. You focus on you. I’ll handle him.”
You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, “I don’t think he loves me anymore,” you admitted, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear it, “I was so mean when your dad died.”
When you finally looked up, Sarah was watching you with a sad smile, one that made your heart hurt in both comfort and ache. “You really believe that?” she asked quietly, and you could hear the disbelief in her voice as if it was so obvious to her, something you couldn’t see.
You nodded, swallowing down the sting in your throat. “He doesn’t want me, not really. He’s…he pulled away. Like he’d rather hate me than be close to me. He’s with her.” 
The words tasted bitter, and made you want to hurt him twice as bad, but there was finally some relief in saying it out loud.
She sighed, looking down for a second, almost like she was thinking how to tell you something that hurt her to admit.
“I don’t think that’s the problem,” she murmured, with a knowing sadness. “I think the problem is that you two will never stop loving each other. He’s still hurting from dad’s passing, he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And you—you’re here, angry that he loved my dad so much, hurt that he left, trying to protect me from him, still worrying about me when you should be focusing on yourself. You’re scared he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s scared you don’t need him at all."
Your lips quivered, your heart about to leap out of your throat, your tongue darted out, briefly brushing your lips.
You weren’t sure you should say it out loud, but maybe you had to. “We’re better off without each other, aren’t we?”
“You’re allowed to be someone without him, and you’re allowed to find out who that is.”
You were slipping, falling back into that spiral of guilt and shame, the one that told you maybe this was all you were good for. Maybe Rafe was right to break things off, perhaps he’d realized that, in the end, you weren’t worth fighting for.
And shit, you hated yourself for still caring. For still wanting him to want you, even though you knew it was poison. Even though you knew that being with him, needing him, was only dragging you both down.
“Thank you.”
And as you sat there, in the stillness of that room, with the sunlight dimming outside, you felt that maybe someday you’d be able to trust yourself too. To believe that you were worth more than the heartache you’d come to accept as your own.
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TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige
@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds
@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron
@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog
@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei
@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2
@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt
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mariaace · 7 hours ago
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They're here. 'Yes, yes wait- WHAT?!'
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A/n: BLLK SEASON 2!!! also haven't posted in a while hehe >< I hope you guys enjoy this!
Summary: Their reaction to seeing you at the Bllk x U20 match.
Warnings: Fluff, angst on Chigiri if you squint your eyes, also!! Spoiler for after the match obviously, a lot of sweetness, established releshionship, that's all I think
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Pairings: Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Yukimiya, Otoya,
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Isagi
You?? Came to see him?? He is so proud of himself, almost as much as you are. The moment he saw you sitting next to his parents tho. Oh this boy panics. Then he suddenly sees you laughing and smiling with his mom, he can't help but smile too. Bachira immediately notices and smirks at Isagi. Always looks at you at the warm up, but again, trying to refrain himself from it, because of a few reasons. Tho the moment the match starts? Oh, he is as concerned as ever. His parents are even surprised and you have to be like 'Don't worry, that's normal.' After it all ends tho, ohh such a sweetheart with that smile. 'I wanna hug you, but I'm sweaty' type of guy🙏🏻. PLEASE say how proud you are for him.
Bachira
You came!!! Omg!!!!! Hii!!! Waving at you the whole time!! Smiling is as big as his face. Actually made you run to the bottom of the audience just so he could hug you from the court. Points exactly where his mom is and is like 'Please sit next to her!!'. He is sooo excited about the match in general, let alone when you two are watching him. Mhm, that's the biggest day in his life, he can bet on that. After the match, kisses you right in front of all the cameras. Everyone needs to see you!! But don't worry not without asking you. He's just silly like that.
Chigiri
Oh my love, please help this guy. Not only did his parents and sister came, but you too?? Oh boy, someone save him, he doesn't know how to react AT ALL. All of his teammates are like 'Who are they??' Otoya is ready to- Nuh uh, back up. So, usually he was still nervous because of his injured knee and everything, but now that he sees you and his family together... coming here to support him.. okay maybe you guys coming is actually very motivating to him. Now...after the match...we know how frustrated is bc of everything, but he is still happy because of the won, so comfort him and congratulate him at the same time. Somehow do it.
Yukimiya
Oh this sweetheart of a man. You came? He cannot thank you enough. He is actually proud of you to be honest. He is just like that. Giving you that sweet smile of his. Now I personally think that he would have already announced that you two are dating before the match so the media already knows, but he's going to show it again anyways. He is so proud you're his, he just can't resist. You cheering for him with his number on your back... The view is perfect, what can he say? After the match he does that with the picking you up and swirling you around. He is sure that he is the happiest man alive.
Otoya
A GIRL CANE TO SEE HIM?? HIM?? Nah, Karasu doesn't believe it. He had to pay you right? He is sooo smug about it. He has a girl and it's actually a relationship. Showing you off everywhere. Media, the crowd, to Karasu especially. Like he didn't already see you, but sure. He tries to act cool, but still is trying his best to impress you at the same time. Teammates are actually surprised when he doesn't flirt with other girls, because he is genuinely so whipped for you.
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© mariaace please don't copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works!
@dazailoveschuuya
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justagalwhowrites · 2 days ago
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The Campaign - A TSATS One Shot
You're doing your part to get out the vote and Joel is doing his part to protect you while you do. AKA Bodyguard!Joel beats the shit out of a Trump voter.
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Pairing: Bodyguard!Joel Miller x Movie Star!Female Reader (from The Savage and the Sanctuary)
CW: Joel beating the shit out of a Trump supporter. That's it, that's the fic. Also mentions of the misery that's befallen us since Trump and all the general misogynistic bullshit of this Godforsaken timeline. No use of Y/N.
Length: 1.1k
A/N: Look. I desperately want to beat the shit out of everyone I see wearing a MAGA hat but, unlike (my version of) Joel, I'm not a 6'5" man with years of experience beating the shit out of people so I can't. Wishing exactly what they voted for on every Trump voter there is and then this too because they deserve it. OK ENJOY LOVE YOU!
Joel was about ready to strangle you. 
Why the fuck you’d volunteered to go out and try to get a bunch of fucking college kids to vote was beyond him. Sure, he knew the election was important, but did that really mean you needed to personally go try to talk to as many idiots as possible in an unsecured area? 
He ground his teeth. You were standing on campus, surrounded by a mob of 20-somethings, each with their fucking phone in hand so he couldn’t even tell if someone was holding a goddamn weapon. Anything was safer than this and yet, here you were, doing it anyway. 
“Can I get a selfie?” One girl asked, practically glowing at the sight of you. 
“Of course!” You said and you smiled and put your face next to hers so she could take a photo. “Can I convince you to vote in the upcoming election? We really need voices like yours to be heard loud and clear.” 
“Definitely,” she said. “I already have a plan for getting there!” 
“That’s what we like to hear!” You said. “Just go online, make sure you’re registered and that you know your polling place and the times. Sound good?” 
She didn’t get a chance to respond, a man in a red Trump hat shoving his way through the crowd, pushing a student into and making you stumble. 
“Hey!” Someone in the crowd protested the intrusion but the man ignored him. 
“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” The man got in your face. “We don’t want your coastal elite bullshit getting mixed up in our government!” 
Joel went to intervene but you held a hand out, stopping him. He clenched his jaw but obeyed, standing at the ready in case things got out of hand. 
“I understand,” you said gently. “I’d probably be upset, too, if I were you. But it’s my government, too. I live in Austin, I love it here and part of showing that love is getting involved…” 
“I don’t give a shit,” he stepped closer. “Get the fuck out of here and leave our kids alone, you fucking bitch!” 
He went to shove you and Joel stepped in then, putting himself between you and the fucking Trump guy before he could lay a hand on you. The man’s hands ended up square in Joel’s stomach, bouncing off almost comically. 
The man was shorter than Joel and definitely weaker. He tilted his head back to look Joel in the eye, an unkempt beard growing in on his neck, his eyes narrowed.  
“That was a mistake,” Joel said, his voice dark and deep. 
“Joel,” your hand went to his shoulder but he shrugged you off. Yes, he was here to protect you but your almost callus disregard for your own safety made him want to pull his goddamn hair out and now, here you were, ready to just let this asshole off without any consequences. 
And fuck if this man didn’t deserve some fucking consequences.
“Need to you to apologize to the lady,” Joel said. “And take that fuckin’ hat off before I shove it up your ass.” 
“If you think I’m about to just let her indoctrinate a bunch of kids…” 
The man made the mistake of leaning around Joel, starting to reach in your direction, and Joel’s patience was nearing its end. 
He shoved the man back before he even really thought about it, making him stumble and sending college kids scrambling back. 
“Joel -“ your voice was sharper now, but he ignored you. 
“Step back,” Joel said, his hands clenching into fists. “Last warning.” 
“Fuck you,” the man said, stalking up to Joel again. “And fuck that bitch, too.” 
Joel’s fist caught the man off guard, not even getting the chance to flinch before it connected with his face. 
The man cried out, stumbling and disoriented, but Joel stalked after him, catching him on the chin and sending him sprawling to the ground. 
“Joel!” You yelled, but you seemed far away in that moment.
Instead, Sarah seemed close. He thought about the 2016 election, when Trump won and Sarah was all of 12 years old. She’d just started getting interested in shit like politics, she was excited about a woman running for president and Joel’d had to explain to her why someone would say something like “grab ‘em by the pussy” and have half the fucking country voting for him. 
Things had only gotten worse in the years since. He had to explain Brett fucking Kavanaugh to his daughter, had to watch as fucking Nazis burned torches and marched through the streets with her, had to just sit there as assholes like this man in his red goddamn hat tried to make life worse for her. 
Back when he had her, he had a reason to keep his nose clean and stay out of trouble, even when dealing with assholes like this. That reason was gone now and so Joel did what he’d been wishing he could for the last damn decade. 
The man tried to get up from his place on the ground but Joel didn’t let him, all but diving on him, grabbing him by the collar and holding him there so he could land blow after blow on his face. He clumsily tried to swing at Joel but he didn’t even feel it. When that failed, his hands scrabbled over Joel’s arms, trying to pull himself free. It didn’t work, either.
Hitting the man again and again hurt but it was a strangely satisfying kind of hurt, one that felt just and righteous, like Joel was finally doing something that was worthwhile. He was hurting someone who deserved it, he was protecting you, he was defending a world that would have been better for his daughter. 
“Joel!” You pulled hard enough on his shoulder that he was forced to pay attention. He was panting for breath, his knuckles bloody, the man’s face a mess. He looked back toward you, at your wide eyes in your unsettlingly perfect face. You looked afraid, but not of him. You were afraid for him. “You can’t do this, you can’t just… Joel, you have to stop.” 
He dropped the man to the ground where he lay, moaning, cradling his broken face. Joel ripped the hat off his head and he groaned in pain. 
“Should’ve listened,” he said, before holding up the hat. “I’m keepin’ this. Get fucked.” 
You looped your arm around Joel’s waist, pulling him against your side and he could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile on your face as you led him away. 
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lucy90712 · 1 day ago
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Can you please make a hector fort fic where he spends all his time with his friends and spends barely time with her. Then they were supposed to go on a date together and she waits for him to pick her up, she waits for 2 hours and goes to social media to see if he has posted anything and sees on his story a picture of him and her girl bestfriend having fun playing games. So she leaves the house with her stuff. When hector comes home he realises what he has done and tries to get back in contact with her but he fails. They don't see each other for a while but he notices her walking on a busy street and tries to talk to her. (ending with fluff please)
You: good morning amor hope training goes well don't forget about our plans tonight I'll be waiting for you 
Hector: have fun in class and don't worry I'll be there at 7 as promised 
You: love you 
That was the last I heard from Hector and now it's 8:32pm and he's still not here to pick me up. He promised he promised me he'd be here and that he'd make up for us not spending any time together. I should've seen it coming as he's been doing this for weeks he's promised time and time again that he will come over or we'll go on a date and then he never shows up. When I can finally get hold of him he always has an excuse either he was busy or with friends and lost track of time but whatever it is it hurts. I've done so much for Hector I've been there for him since we were kids and I've been there for every good and bad moment of his football career but he can't even manage to show up for one day or just to see me for an hour. 
We made the jump from being friends to being a couple just over a year ago and for the longest time he was the best boyfriend ever he treated me so well was super attentive and really made an effort to be romantic and take me on dates. I don't remember exactly when it changed I think it happened slowly over time but ever since he's started playing with the first team more he's been busier with training and matches which I understand but what I don't understand is spending every evening with his teammates who he sees all day when he could see me. It might sound selfish but I just miss my boyfriend he's already missed so much like he wasn't here when I was stressed over my big exams and he wasn't here when I got the results and he wasn't here when I needed him most when my mum went into hospital and I was scared and panicking. Just a few months ago he'd never dream of leaving my side during any of those times but now he barely knows they even happened. 
I text him once then twice then three times then I called multiple times but they all went unanswered. My last resort was to message him on Instagram as I know he won't have turned the notifications off for that but I didn't need to message him Instagram gave me my answer straight away. He had posted on his story showing him out with his friends and my best friend was with them too which was a whole other level of pain. My best friend knows all about my troubles with Hector yet she went out with him and his friends anyway and didn't even bother to tell me. That was the final straw I'm not dealing with this anymore I deserve better I deserve someone who will be there for me, not break promises and definitely not someone who makes me feel like this. 
My mind was racing but I quickly worked out what I wanted to do so I grabbed my keys and got in my car. Seeing as Hector wasn't in I decided now is the perfect time to go and get all the things I have at his place and leave the spare key I have that he gave me ages ago because I won't be needing it anymore. When I opened the door I immediately saw all the little things of mine there are that makes Hector's place feel just like my own some of my books are on his coffee table and my hair ties on the sideboard by the door. I spent some time grabbing all my things while trying not to cry that I was losing my boyfriend who I thought was the love of my life. Before I left I found a piece of paper and a pen and wrote Hector a note to tell him his I felt and why I was leaving and then put my key with it. Closing the door I felt like I was closing a chapter in my life a chapter I never wanted to close and one that's going to stay with me for a long time but it has to be done. 
Hector's POV
As soon as I opened the door to my apartment it felt weirdly empty like was something wrong but the door was locked and nothing looked like it has been stolen. Still I had a quick look around and then I noticed a piece of paper on the kitchen counter. Next to it was a key and that's when I realised what was wrong all of y/n's things were gone her books, her hair ties and all of the little things she leaves here were gone and this is her key that's now in my hand not with her like it should be. I knew the note would be from her but I didn't need to read it to know what was going on and what I'd done. I had promised to see her tonight as I've forgotten about the last few dates we've planned but I did it again my friends dragged me out after training and then I got carried away and forgot about the most important part of my day proving to y/n that I will do better. I really didn't want to read the note but I knew I had to I owe her that at the very least.
Dear Hector, 
I have left my key and taken my things because I'm done. I'm done because tonight we were supposed to go out you promised you'd pick me up at 7 and you promised you wouldn't forget like you have been for the last few months but you did. Instead of trying to prove to me that you love me and that the last few months have just been an anomaly you went out with your friends and my best friend leaving me waiting for you, calling and texting you until I saw your story. I can't do this anymore I love you but I can't let you treat me like this so I'm calling it here. I've really enjoyed the last year or so we've spent together but it's time for us to move on as clearly we aren't meant to be. 
I love you and probably will for the rest of my life but this is goodbye. 
Y/n xx
Those words hurt to read. I already knew I fucked up but to see the words written in front of me made it truly hit me how much I'd hurt her. She was the best thing that ever happened to me she was always there for everything no matter what she's been by my side through every up and down and I truly thought she'd be there for everything for the rest of our lives. I wanted her there for every achievement in my career and I wanted to be there for all of her achievements too. She was the one I didn't need anyone else I didn't want anyone else but now she's left me and I don't have my person anymore and I may never have her again. 
After the initial shock I tried to text her to see if I could apologise but she had already blocked me so I tried Instagram but she had blocked me on there too. I should've seen it coming but it upset me that I wouldn't be able to reach out to her and try and make things right or at least tell her how sorry I am for fucking this all up so badly. She's gone and it's all my fault that's what hurts the most if I hadn't been such an idiot then we'd still be together but no I had to go and ruin things with the best woman in the world. 
A few weeks later
Life has been hell for the last few weeks I've really missed y/n I've missed having her sat in the stands during matches and I've definitely missed seeing her. She's been in my life for the longest time not just as my girlfriend but as my friend so not having her in my life anymore and so suddenly as well has been really hard. I've definitely not been myself all of the guys keep asking if I'm ok and I tell them I am but we all know it's a lie they know how much I love y/n and they can see how it's destroyed me to lose her. I've tried time and time again to reach out to her but of course I'm still blocked I even text her best friend to get her to talk to y/n but she says she hasn't seen her or had any of her texts answered either so I have no way of telling her that I'm sorry. 
Everyone keeps telling me I need to try and move on and they're right it's just hard everything reminds me of y/n whenever I go anywhere I see places that we've been on dates to or just places we have memories at. Today I'm going to stop myself from moping about and go for a walk to clear my head as that's what I think I need to be able to move on or at least start to. I decided to go to the nearest park and walk around as it's relaxing and it should be quiet there which is what I need. 
The park was pretty empty there was a few people around; one couple with their baby an older couple feeding the birds and a girl who was sat on a bench with a book. The girl reminded me of y/n her hair was the same colour and reading in the park is something she loved to do. As I walked closer I realised that it actually was y/n she had headphones in and the book she'd been reading in her hands like she so often did when I went to see her. Seeing her made me stop in my tracks I didn't know whether to go and talk to her or just leave her be but then I realised this is my chance to talk to her and get closure at the very least. 
Your POV
Being without Hector has been hard I've missed feeling his touch and having him next to me when I sleep. So many times I've wanted to take it all back and run back to him but I know I can't or he'll think he can treat me like that again or someone else and I can't let that happen. Today is Wednesday which is the day that I had free from classes and usually I would spend all day with Hector so I've been sat at home all day thinking about him but I can't keep doing that so I needed to get outside. To give me something to do I walked to the park with my book. I found a bench with a nice view of the trees and the little pond with a few ducks and let myself forget about the real world. 
I was so in my own world that I didn't notice when someone sat next to me to start with until they sighed which brought me out of my trance. When I looked to my side I think I turned as white as a ghost because Hector was sat next to me with a look of pure sadness on his face. It took a few seconds for my brain to begin functioning again but when it did I leapt up and tried to run away. I'm not ready to face him again not when I've been trying so hard to forget about him and move on I blocked him and separated myself from him so I wouldn't have to do this. Before I could get more than a few steps away Hector placed a hand on my arm he didn't pull me back he didn't even hold my arm tightly but having his hand on me stopped me dead in my tracks. He encouraged me to sit back down so I did and I watched as his hand moved off my arm down to my hand which he held tightly in his grasp so I couldn't run again. 
"Hector" I started to say 
"No please let me talk" he interrupted 
"Ok but you have five minutes then I'm leaving" I said
"I'm sorry and I know move said that a lot recently but I really mean it when I got home and saw the note you left it broke me having all of your stuff gone from my apartment made it feel empty and not being able to see or talk to you has killed me I've missed you so much and I'll do anything to make it up to you" he said 
"How do I know that you actually mean it and that you'll actually change I told you how disappointed I was a million times and every time you told me you wouldn't forget the next time and then you always did it's like I wasn't important to you anymore how do I know that'll change" I said 
"I know I was an awful boyfriend but losing you has taught me a lot I know I can't treat you like that and I'd never dream of doing it again this might seem to much but you are truly the one for me I don't want to ever be with anyone else so please give me a another chance and I promise I'll do better and if I don't I'll let you go" he said 
"Ok but this is your last chance if you miss any date or anything without telling me and giving me a valid reason we're done" I said 
"I'll never miss a date ever again don't worry" he said 
"I can't lie I'm glad to have you back I've missed you so much it really hurt to walk away" I said
"And you'll never have to walk away again I'm here to stay" he said 
He pulled me into his side and leant down to kiss my lips which felt so good as I've missed having him by my side and I've definitely missed kissing him. He let me sit and finish the chapter I was reading before we left the park and went back to his place as he wanted to make things up to me straight away by having a movie date at home which he knows are my favourite. He's definitely off to a good start at making things up to me but honestly I'm just happy to have him back by my side. 
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bam-bi-buck · 9 hours ago
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I have a crack theory - based off a cracked theory (and the episode titles/film stills, etc) but this is the season of crack theories so what the heck lol
So a lot of people have wondered if the Hotshots show is based of Taylor Kelly’s book and since they appear to be doing scenes based on the actual injuries the 118 have gotten there’s a good chance that’s correct
People have also wondered if Brad is gonna go a bit 😵‍💫 due to his obsession with Bobby
And Tim said he wants to go back to old plot lines that weren’t tied up and what’s a Taylor plot line that wasn’t tied up?
The emergency distress bracelet Buck got her for Christmas
So my crack theory - Hotshots is based on Taylor’s book, Brad or someone else on set is obsessed with the 118, to the point where they’ve studied the text religiously
And they can’t stop thinking about Taylor’s bracelet
Did she keep it?
Did Buck keep the connecting app/device?
So maybe they track down Taylor’s location or break into her home, they just need her bracelet, she doesn’t even need to actually be involved (or maybe she is, who knows?)
Either way, they get the bracelet and set it off
Just to see what happens…
And of course Buck would come, it doesn’t matter how they ended things, he never stops caring about the people he loved, I mean after she abandoned him, he promised Abby to bring her fiancé back to her and he did!
Of course Buck would come to the rescue if he thought Taylor needed him
And then bam!
Disaster strikes
Because this person wanted to see if Buck would come and he did and this person felt a rush unlike any other, they like getting to play with these “characters” - now let’s see what happens if they’ve got Buck in their clutches
And they makes the 118 jump through hoops to save him and in the process Buck (or maybe someone else) gets majorly hurt
(And this could then tie into some of the Buddie theories I’ve seen about Buck having a NDE and Eddie getting punched in the feelings because of it)
Anyways this is genuinely a crack theory, I do not believe this will actually happen even if Hotshots is based off Taylor’s book and/or someone from the set is freakishly obsessed
But what a wild ride and what a call back it would be if it did, you know?
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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 days ago
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tuesday again 11/12/2024
this one's a bit short. i am now thirty and still unemployed (ten months this week) ://// if you enjoy the tuesdayposts and are not maxed out on your charitable donations for other causes (american healthcare access, healthcare access in other places, war relief, any number of other good causes) i am going to be $300 short for december rent. here is my paypal.
listening
listening to a lot of pete seeger, for my health. there are about one zillion recordings of Old Man Atom, all ever so slightly different. it starts off as a perky gee-whiz-science! tune and continues frog marching the listener along in an increasingly jaunty manner. it's
Then the cartel crowd put on a show To turn back the clock on the UNO To get a corner on atoms and maybe extinguish Every darned atom that can't speak English Down with foreign-born atoms! America for American atoms! I hold this truth to be self-evident That all men may be cremated equal!
youtube
it's very depressing to listen to early anti-nuclear protest songs and realize they hold even more true today! song's a bop tho!
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reading
the feds nabbed someone allegedly related to the semi-dire Snowflake data leaks that have been ongoing throughout the year (Santander Bank, AT&T, Ticket Master, Neiman Marcus, etc).
this guy has been a real thorn in krebs' side for a year or so and participates in some of the worst corners of the internet, which explains the adversarial nature of the writeup. i read through the whole thing going "yeah this guy is Very annoying but why is krebs so mad at him" and then got to the bottom section about other activities. italicized OH moment in real life but bad.
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watching
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continuing noirvember with The Maltese Falcon (1941, dir. Huston).
The Maltese Falcon is a 1941 American film noir in which a San Francisco private detective deals with three unscrupulous adventurers, all seeking a jewel-encrusted falcon statuette.[3] Written and directed by John Huston[3] in his directorial debut, the film was based on the 1930 novel The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett and is a remake of the 1931 film of the same name.[4][5][6] It stars Humphrey Bogart as private investigator Sam Spade, Mary Astor as his femme fatale client, and as villains Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet.
i have two really snotty thoughts to get out of my brain: the modern letterboxed reviews like "i liked this but the homophobia ruined it" weak. all of you are WEAK.
and
i appreciate the work of the tumblrinas trying to queer this story in a more 2020s friendly way. however. sam spade canonically calls someone a slur for using cologne that he deems too feminine. the noir detective series you want is Philip Marlowe, who is at least homophobic in interesting and less physically violent ways.
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anyway! gorgeous gorgeous movie. mary astor goes toe to fucking toe with bogey in every scene. a very frantic and frightened woman who is one jump ahead of the pathway crumbling behind her at all times. but she takes the jump and makes it! every time! except for the most important one!!!
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playing
having a normal one with 12 hours of powerwash simulator
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new genshin update rapidly approacheth. there's a lot happening in this screenshot. accidentally careened right past this npc, with one bullet for the poor low-level slime in the background, floaty blue pet in tow. the npc wanted me to deliver something to her sister who is visible under the big tree in the background. i love early area spaghetti code.
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making
deep cleaned my house again bc i had people over for my birthday, which was a very lovely and very drunk evening of star wars on in the background while we played trivia. not how i expected to enter my thirties! i am not in the life circumstances i expected to be in my thirties, i do not have the life i expected to have in my thirties, etc. feeling a little maudlin and need to do crafts about it but also all the crafts in my home are not quite right!
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asvtrials · 1 day ago
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Let me show you how sorry I am
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Bjorn x Fem!Reader
minors dni!
summary: Bjorn made you cry and he's very sorry about it. So sorry that he buries his head between your legs... warnings: smut, oral (fem! receiving), toxic relationship, plot? what plot?, ooc maybe?, not proof-read a/n: Guess who's back?! I wrote this in like two hours so if it's shit yk why. Bjorn eating his gf out after he fucked up is very real to me this man will avoid the consequences of being a dick like it's the plague. ANYWAYS, something small for you! w/c: 819
Bjorn is always saying shit he doesn’t mean. It’s just how he is.
In the heat of the moment, he will say the most outrageous shit and cause you to storm out in tears.
At first, he thinks you’re being dramatic until he calms down and realizes what a dickhead he was. And that’s when the guilt comes and he’s calling you, texting you, begging you to hear him out.
When you ignore him, he goes to your trailer. When you open the door and send him a venomous look, he looks all desperate, like a kicked puppy.
He cups your face, keeps saying how sorry he is and how much of an asshole he is all the time and you let him, because you know what comes next.
You’re weak, so weak you hated it. Especially when he starts kissing your cheeks, testing the waters, seeing if you’ll push him away. You never do, always melting in his arms as he slowly kisses your jaw and neck.
His lips move with yours in a slow, deep rhythm, leading you to your bedroom.
You fall on the bed with a soft groan, pulling him on top of you.
You don’t stop him when he takes off your pants. Why would you? 
Oh right, you’re mad at him…
Then he starts whispering “You know I don’t mean all’at shit, right?” and “I love you, I dunno what I was sayin’, baby.” between kisses. 
You barely hear him, too drunk on the taste of his tongue yet you nodded, no longer caring about the fight. Hell, you barely remember it.
And he knows it.
A small smirk tugs at his lips when you chase his lips after he pulls away.
“My perfect girl deserves better.” He purrs against your neck whilst leaving a trail of red marks from your neck to your collarbone.
You reach for his soft hair when he reaches your panties, lips inches away from where you desperately need him.
His finger lightly grazes the wet spot on the fabric as he looks up at you through his lashes and asks you “Lemme show ya how sorry I am, yeah?”
It’s embarrassing how fast you nod.
He drags the underwear down your legs, torturously slow to the point where you whine for him to hurry up.
Bjorn is rarely patient. He usually fucks you fast and hard, like a starved man. But not tonight.
Tonight he wanted to show you how sorry he is. And why you always end up forgiving him.
Watching him position himself between your spread legs is enough to knock the air out of your lungs.
You watched the spit abandon his lips and fall on your core, mixing with your juices. 
His eyes meet yours once again as he flattens his tongue against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine.
His name falls from your lips in desperate, pathetic moans as he dives between your legs.
He sucked and slurped on your essence, spreading your folds with his fingers. He didn’t stop even when your thighs were squeezing his head, not even when he felt like his lungs were going to explode from the lack of oxygen.
How could he? When his girl was begging him to ‘not stop’ when she was so sweet to let him show her how remorseful he was.
Almost as sweet as her juices that drive him crazy with every lick. 
“Ah! Fuck!” You moan, thighs trembling with the sensation of your nearing release.
He threw your legs over his shoulders and lifted your hips to bring you closer, needing to be as close as possible, to lick every last drop you had to offer him.
His tongue feverishly lapped your soaked cunt, your loud moans only fueling him to go faster, to ruin you completely so that the only thing you can remember is the feeling of your tongue between your folds.
The last straw was Bjorn’s moan against your clit. You come with a scream, not caring about your neighbors.
You squeezed his head with your quivering thighs, the earthshattering orgasm you just experienced left you a shaking, breathless mess.
And you swear you almost came again when Bjorn finally pulled his head back, admiring his work before meeting your hazy gaze. His slick-coated lips moved but you didn’t hear him.
You nod regardless.
“You really forgive me, baby?” He asks again, his smile turning into a smirk when you weakly reply ‘yeah’.
You were sure you’d feel at least a little pathetic with how easy it was for him but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Especially with the way he looked right now. Chin glistening with your taste, a small victorious grin tugging at his bruised lips as he looked at you.
You knew this wouldn’t be your last orgasm, it never was. After all, Bjorn was very sorry and you were very weak.
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turn-my-hollow-purple · 3 days ago
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What Clique Stereotype Each AOT Character Is
this is in honor of the fact that the only thing on my mind right now is GENUINELY gothkasa like omfg I need her so bad it's not even funny you guys PLUH EASEEEE-
Eren: you're surprised he's actually passing his classes because he never turns in work, etc. (thanks to Armin and Mikasa); all the girls like him but he just exist you guys.. I will not fall into the Eren frat boy agenda I swear... (I want to so bad) but yeah he kinda bullies other kids and says "no it's just a joke, trust"
Armin: chess club captain! y'all knew this was coming I'm afraid but he's a cutie pie... obviously a brainiac... maybe a band kid too (positive)
Mikasa: she is a part of the alt kids, falling into the goth subculture! goth music, dark clothes, gloomy vibes, and boy oh boy does she pull it off
Jean: he's like... how do I put this... he's the kid who's quarterback on the football team and the lead in the school musical. A man who can do both dare I say
Connie: CLASS CLOWN! But not the kind that thinks he's better than anyone, people actually enjoy Connie's humor. Occasional spit ball at the teacher though... he frequents detention
Sasha: she is the 'leaves class early and shows up to class late' stereotype... except it's not intentional. And when she is in class? She's asleep.
Annie: she's also in the alt scene with Miksasa, but she fits into the grunge, skater kid scene. This means dark clothes as well, but she's got her skateboard, a vape, eyeliner, and emo music (I'm projecting slightly)
Bertholdt: he's giving class vice-president... he's a little goody-two shoes but not popular enough to be the actual class president. People enjoy him though because he's a sweetie
Reiner: That one kid you swear you've never seen without headphones on like are they permanently in your ears or something bitch hello? He's also a band kid (derogatory)
Ymir: she is also a part of the alt scene but she is 100% the queer stoner girl (also drug dealer lmfao); she dresses more boho vibes but always has some form of weed on her and she is your plug... also lowkey an art kid
Historia: my darling theatre kid. She's the lead in all the plays, musicals, performances, etc. She's really talented and pretty and everyone loves her so much. She probably gets homecoming queen
Levi: that one literature teacher that never seems to give 100% no matter how well the work is done... will blatantly tell a student that they're wrong instead of the classic 'oh that's a good try... not exactly what I was looking for though', it's just straight up 'no that's wrong.'
Erwin: this is the male history teacher who everyone's kind of in love with just because he's so attractive and lowkey so fun to learn from, but you also speculate might be kinda gay? He gets super into his lectures and his students love how interactive he is
Hange: OKAY SO- they're the science teacher who lowkey doesn't know wtf is happening but goes with it anyway... sometimes the students have to teach them what they're supposed to be doing and if you're in their class, there's a good chance you're fearing for your life at some point during lecture
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beatrixstonehill2 · 6 hours ago
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"Hi everyone, sorry for the hiatus. Everyone who correctly guessed I had a boob reduction, congrats! Soooo, here's the thing. I'm dating this new guy and he's amazing, of course, but he told me after a couple dates that my boobs are too big, asking if I ever thought about getting a reduction. I said of course not, I loved my boobs. He insisted, though, telling me how amazing I'd look with really small boobs, with my wide hips and big butt. He told me my boobs were really unflattering and made me look heavy.
I mean, he wasn't wrong. They were gigantic and looking back I get embarrassed thinking about having breasts so big, like ughhhh I can't believe I walked around like that. No wonder guys groped me constantly! So he introduced me to his family, his mom is a plastic surgeon and she was elated to give me a breast reduction. I had almost no say in any of it. They sat me down, took off my dress, and before I knew it his mom was drawing lines on my breasts, explaining to my bf how she intended to shrink my boobs. She turned to me after they talked for a while and asked how I felt about going totally flat chested. I was stunned and said, "Uhhhh...." but before I said anything else she was like, "Perfect! I can have these big fat eyesores chopped off in a couple hours."
I gulped nervously and asked what she meant..... So it was legit like our third date. All I've done is give this guy a blow job so far and there I was, topless, getting escorted to her clinic. She said it's only a few blocks away, that I won't need to put my dress back on. So my bf and his mom paraded me down the streets of Philly for, I shit you not, twenty blocks, wearing nothing but my heels and lingerie panties. My breasts were bouncing freely, and they'd lower my arms if I tried to hide them, after a couple blocks my bf pulled out a pink pair of handcuffs and cuffed my hands behind my back..... So my tits were totally exposed, with markings all over them about how they'll soon be completely chopped apart and flattened.
People passed us and stared, my bf's mom said I was very naughty and needed to be punished by having my boobs removed. I let out a little gasp when she said it the first time. She let strangers grope and squeeze my boobs, telling them to slap them and not worry if they bruise my tits up, since they'll be gone in a couple hours anyway. My bf's mom made sure to explain that I was a naughty girl in need of punishment to every person we passed. It was so humiliating. If I slowed down my bf would spank me and tell me to 'move that fat ass of mine'.
We eventually reached her clinic, wear I was strapped to a chair and my bf jerked off as his mom proceeded to mercilessly take my poor boobs apart. She numbed them, but kept me awake so I could watch. My bf had such a great time so I'm not angry they sprung this on me so abruptly. He came on my face like five separate time as his mom worked her magic, dismantling my huge perfect titties, as fat spilled onto my lap. His mom cut off big chunks and showed them to me, taunting me, telling me they were about to be all gone, to watch as she threw big pieces of my boobs in the garbage, telling me I'd never have big tits again, teasing me all the way. She'd ask me if I'd miss this big piece or that piece, I'd nod timidly, my boobs torn open and halfway gone already. She'd have me gently kiss a few pieces goodbye before throwing them out for good. My bf would cum on my face a few times as she waved a big chunk of my boobs in front of me, covering my face in his cum as I watched helplessly as my perfect titties got destroyed.
Not going to lie.... I humped the chair I was tied to and came a few times myself. My bf's mom noticed this, and assured me soon enough my clit and 'most of my pussy' might get tossed in the trash as well, but I'd have to be a good girl and wait until the time was right. I sat there, stitched up, flat chested, my nipples reduced to nothing, looking as small as a guy's. I asked what else she wanted to do to me and she smiled, saying she had big plans, that her son and her would have to brainstorm. "But....." she said. "You do have a very pretty face, gorgeous eyes, perfect nose, and smile.... I could have a lot of fun with such a pretty face." And embarrassingly, I came yet again. My bf walked me back to their place and fucked me as his mom watched, smoking, drinking wine, telling my bf 'You better get that flat chested little slut pregnant'. And it's been two months, I'm definitely pregnant. No more surgeries yet, but it would be crueler to work on me more when I have a giant belly full of her son's kids.... I get kinda squeamish picturing what they want to do to me, but it makes me so very, very fucking horny. I can't wait."
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inthedarkshadows000 · 9 hours ago
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SneakPeak#106.......
From the story I might never write
How dare she. She has been ignoring me and eyeing my husband, Suguru, for the past forty three minutes and twenty two seconds. Yes. I counted. What else was I supposed to do while being ignored.
Suguru and I had decided to finally move out of our current apartment, with the girls, and shift to a bigger place. It was way to cramped for four people and now with both of earning, in jujutsu world, we had gathered more than enough to finish the down payment instantly.
So we contacted a realtor to show us some places according to our requirements. Mind you, the requirements DID NOT include a middle aged lady, with way too many operations on her face and boobs, who flirts with a taken man. Like bruh, I get my man looks like a god but back. The. Fuck. Off!
So here we were, him getting hit on by a plastic lady, with her nose a little too way off and her one boob smaller than the other.
All I want to do is come out and burn the bitch to crisps with my curse energy but no, apparently being jealous wasn't a good enough reason for murder nowadays, pfft, as if. What if my man needs me to save his honour, huh?
Suguru has been holding my hand and trying to include me in the conversation but that bitch had purposely and extremely unsubtly been leaving me out.
If I wasn't fuming right now, his situation would have made me laugh real hard. He seems so uncomfortable and aborable trying to maintain a safe distance from her. I'll protect you my pretty boy, don't you worry.
Now, only if my eyes could shoot lasers, it would have made things really easy. Like, oops my B. However, they still don't. Trust. I tried squinting. This was the cool power I was supposed to get with my curse shit but no! Nothing cool here.
Forget cool powers. Let me at the bitch bare hands and I'll have her in shreds before you can even finish saying laser. Yeah... my inner bitch was NOT happy.
On a second thought though, why waste power when words can harm more. I smirked internally, when I had an idea.
We were currently in the common area near the dining table. Suguru had his one hand on the table while his other hand circled my waist, the plastic lady in front of us. It wasn't a second after my idea, that I saw her hand go right on top of his free hand and squeeze, he pulled his hand back quickly.
Oh no, you don't! That's it!
"Alright, I have a real quick question." I say while moving between them and leaning on the table.
Ru looks relieved, probably to have a barrier in between and the bitch looks annoyed. Like I care.
I put on my most innocent smile and look at him. "Could you please clear a doubt for me, husband?" I emphasised the last word just put of spite.
"Of course love. What is it?" He quirks a brow and moves his hand to tug gently at the ends of my hair, twirling it around his finger.
"I just wanted to clear out if you have an interest, any interest at all, in Miss. -" I turned towards her making sure my hair hit her in the face, "- wait what was your name?"
Before she could answer I turned back, hitting her again with the hair, and pointed towards her, waiving my palm carelessly, and continued, "Anyway. Her "
"No, I don't love. Why would you ask?" He knew exactly why I would ask. The twinkle in his violet eyes and his horrible attempt at hiding his smile said enough. He played along anyway because let's be real, Suguru Geto loved being petty, even more so than me.
"I just wanted to clear out the fact, so she doesn't waste her time as well as ours, with her futile attempts of trying to woo you. Not to mention, I would hate for her to lose such an important deal, now wouldn't I?" I gave her a pointed look and turned back around. Yes, another hair attack!
I purposely put my left hand, which had the engagement ring on it , over his wrist which now shifted to my cheek.
"Of course, we would, love." he bit his inner cheek to keep himself from laughing, yet his shoulders shook with merth. His beautiful lips pulled in a smirk.
After giving a quick kiss to my forehead and the knuckles of my left hand, he pulled me around so that my back was to his front and we faced the bitch. He put his chin on shoulder, his smirk still evident.
The bitch had gone red. Serves her right.
"You sly, little vixen." Suguru whispered in my ear and tugged the lobe gently with his teeth. I just shrugged still maintaining my innocent smile.
"Just trying to save your sexy ass, like always. I'll take the payment in hair wash, so better be ready to finally drop your hair routine, princess."
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till-the-end-official · 2 days ago
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Ivan paces around his room as his sister stares at him in lesbian judgement. He really doesn't want to hear it from her, but she speaks anyway.
"Ivan. Till is not going to care what you wear on this date. Till already dresses like Adam Sandler on a regular basis. His idea of 'dressing nice' is probably being fully punked out. I think you'll be fine."
Ivan groans into his hands. His sister was right, but he'll never say that out loud. He sighs and goes back into the closet (lmao) and just picks his favorite outfit. He even got a matching cap and sunglasses for the outfit to hide himself in public.
"Noona, do you think he'd kill me if I took him somewhere too nice?"
"Yes."
Her speaking without hesitation definitely meant that she was 100% sure and also correct.
Ivan pouts and grumbles under his breath. He then gets a brilliant idea and gasps out loud.
"Oh my god, karaoke! It's literally that easy. Both of us are good at it... or well good at singing- and we can also order drinks and book a private room."
Sua regards him with vague amusement. She huffs fondly before standing up, making her way out of the house.
"Yeah. That works, just don't start making out in the booth. Unfortunately, there are cameras. Me and Mizi found out the hard way."
Ivan's face lights up in flames at the idea of making out with Till before the rest of the comment registers in his head.
"Wait you and Mizi-?!?"
Sua's already booked it out his apartment. Ivan has half the mind to chase her, but he has a date to get ready for.
Till, on the other hand, was freaking out. He was on call with Mizi, practically hyperventilating, as he dismantled his entire closet.
"Till, calm down. You're overthinking this. Ivan finds you so attractive as is- he would find you attractive in a potato sack. Calm down."
These words did not assure Till at all, his mind was set into panic mode. He threw outfit after outfit onto his bed, making his bedroom seem like a clothing store was blown up. He had NEVER put this much effort into how he looks, and it was reminding him just how simple his outfits were. He wasn't one to care about what he wore on dates, he usually just threw on whatever he felt like, but this time it was different. Everything about this date felt different.
"I-I still want to look somewhat presentable! Just because he may like whatever I wear doesn't mean I shouldn't put any effort into it!"
Till has never sounded more distressed in his life, and Mizi only ended up giggling as she watched her senior freak out over what to wear. She knew that deep down, whatever Till chose Ivan would drool over him in, but it was very sweet seeing Till put this much thought into his outfit.
"How about the outfit you wore to the Beat Rider event? The one with your black ripped jeans and leather jacket?"
Till had no energy to think of anything different, so he decided to go with that. While he was grabbing his clothes, he also grabbed some silver rings and earrings to go along with it. He threw on a simple blue crewneck, quickly putting a silver chain and another necklace with a lock around his neck before throwing on his hooded leather jacket. He put on his pair of black ripped jeans before quickly lacing up his Doc Martins.
"Do you think this looks good?"
Till asked, turning his camera on and showing Mizi the outfit. Mizi gasped, despite it being the outfit she suggested, and nodded excitedly.
"You look great! I'm sure Ivan is going to love it."
Right as the pink-hair actress said that, the sound of Till's doorbell going off could be heard.
"Speak of the devil... Thank you, Mizi."
"No problem at all! Just remember to be safe!"
Before Till could ask what she meant by that, Mizi hung up. He groaned quietly to himself before quickly grabbing a facemask and a pair of sunglasses just incase he needed them. He quickly ran out of his room, shoving his phone in his pocket before opening the door.
As soon as Till registered Ivan, he slammed the door on his face, his cheeks flushing up as he had a mini gay panic.
'Oh my god- we're going out and he looks like THAT?! I might have to wear my mask the entire time oh my god. He can't just SURPRISE me like that- I knew he was attractive but like I've never slammed the door before- wait! Oh shit!'
Till hurriedly opened the door again, cursing under his breath as he looked at Ivan. His face was even hotter than before he slammed the door, so he must look like a fucking apple right now. God... he felt so embarrassed. He would be surprised if Ivan didn't mistake him for a sundried tomato right now.
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islandtarochips · 2 days ago
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Monster!AU Lore #2: Blood Scent, Mask Covering, Shock Collars and Water Pack Explanation
Ok. I just wanna share some lore for my COD OCs in the Monster AU. This monster AU was created by @bluegiragi LOVE their Monster AU, man. It was AWESOME!
Anyway, I would like to explain some things about some materials that I think will help some monsters that the Military have provided for them. And explaining about some monsters reacting to human blood.
So I have been discussing this with my dear friend, @forestgreenbunny. Asking for some advice and some of her opinions for it.
Blood Scent:
Ok, as I remember for Tiala and Kanoa's kind of being shark hybrids. I remember that one scene that King Shark will go CRAZY once tasting or smelling human blood. He's not FOND with it. And that gives me the idea of the same reaction for Tiala and Kanoa. These siblings did their best to AVOID human blood. Not tasting it or even smelling it.
If you’re going to ask about their reaction with monster blood. That won’t affect them. Monster’s blood is quite different from human blood. Like different DNA obviously. So they’re okay to attack any monsters.
Now for the HYBRIDS. If there’s a monster who is half-human. Can Tiala and Kanoa go feral if they scent a hybrid human blood if they bleed? That…I do not know yet. I would say it DEPENDS on their blood scent. Since I know that any monster hybrids, who are half human, may have SOME human blood. Maybe it depends on how strong that human blood smells to them. I’m still thinking about it. OR if you guys have any suggestions, opinions or ideas about it! Comment down below!
So they’re VERY careful around humans. Because ONE drop of taste or even the smell of it. They WILL go feral or go on a killing spree to get their prey. Sharks are pretty fierce and dangerous when it comes to getting their prey. In this AU I mean. So it’s hard for the two of them to control it. You can see that their eyes will be full on black. And WILL kill anyone that gets in their way. Even other monsters that has problem of controlling it from reacting to blood.
So that’s why the military have decided to make two objects to help them PREVENTING of hurting any human being if they scent their blood!
Which is-
1st Material - Mask:
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The mask is like a ski kind of military mask! (The one above there)
Ok! So, I have told my friend that I was thinking that the military had made masks for any monsters to cover their mouth and nose. From interacting with any human blood. Good materials for it! But the monsters still need to pull it down if they need to track down OTHER scent besides blood.
But the mask only covers the mouth, nose and the neck. Not covering the head. Although, for some other monsters they can have a full on ski masks if they want.
And don’t worry about Tiala and Kanoa using their gills! They can shapeshift it to normal! Like showing no gills at all! Since they ARE half human and Hybrids. So it’s possible for them to shape themselves into humans. Just like how Price did from his human form to his dragon form (if you saw it in bluegiragi’s post).
So it’s easy for them to use the ski mask that the military had made and provided, to breathe easily through their nose and mouth.
The military had made a good full proof mask for monsters. Gathering good materials and a bit of technology magic or whatever. Everything has been made accordingly that the government wanted. It’s also very stretchable and it wouldn't be ripped off easily. It’s very nice and expensive. Lol.
2nd Material - Shock Collar:
Shock Collar does sound a bit cruel for them to use on monsters. But it is safe for humans whenever they work with them. Tiala and Kanoa always wear them before or after their missions. To help them control their animalistic instincts or control their hunger whenever they smell or taste blood. They can’t use it during missions because the shock collar WILL jeopardize the mission as like a distractions. So the humans trusted them to control it when they went out.
Gotta tell you they don’t like it but they know that it’s for the best. Safety for their team and others.
Like I said before it’s cruel but it’s a double-edged sword. That’s what people use these words these days. It’s a good and bad situation but they have no other choice. And if you’re asking WHY would the military keep the most dangerous monsters in their base? Well, to protect their country though. They may be dangerous but they do find a way to keep them behaving and in line. But if the monsters or hybrids learn how to control their monster side then there’s no need for them to use shock collars.
Dangerous, I know but it shows some trust between humans and monsters. Since that’s how I see it.
And since we got the two objects down of how the Sea or freshwater creatures prevent themselves from hurting any human beings. Here is this one object that will HELP them to survive on land.
Which is this-
3rd Material - Water Pack:
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So the waterpack! The Waterpack is what I made in my head for any water or sea creatures! Since there are some certain hybrid sea or water creatures that might have a hard time being on land. Like for Tiala and Kanoa being shark hybrids of course. They can’t handle being on land. Like mostly the heat temperatures.
So it should look like the one above that is showing. But try to think of it as a bulletproof vest that most military use.
The waterpack helps the sea or water creature/hybrids to stay hydrated during the mission. They can drink from it with a kind of rope straw for the packs or just use bottles for the waist. Like this one down here:
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Whichever is easier for them to use!
But not every sea/water monster or hybrids can drink the same water.
For example, Tiala and Kanoa shark type is the Great White Shark. Which means that they are a SEA Creature type so they will only have to breathe or drink SEAWATER. And for Agnes, who is an electric eel and electric eel swims in FRESHWATER. She would have to drink or swim into Freshwater.
If you want to know what would happen……best for you to look up for googles from there. Ehehe.
So anyway, the sea or water creatures should make sure to have their own waters for themselves. And the waterpack can be refilled too! If they find any nearby ponds, rivers or shores. They will use it to fill up their jugs!
So those are the three objects that will help Tiala and Kanoa and even other monsters.
And that's about it for me to share this info! @bluegiragi Monster AU has inspired me so much that I want to do it for my OCs for it! I got so excited that I wanted to share these with you guys! So thank you for reading this far! And I shall post more about these if I have any and might change this if I have any in mind! So thank you! Love ya, peles!
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@ctxinari @pricescigar @toukasbae @justasmolbard
@alypink @dirtfullofwork @kaitaiga @deeptrashwitch
@sweet-samnang @welldonekhushi
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thekatebridgerton · 2 days ago
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Mystery of the sexy paintings au
Today on another episode of aus I talk about with @seaowl when I am high on energy drinks
Mystery of the sexy paintings au
In which 17yo Gareth St Claire, good for nothing, except painting riske pictures that get him into trouble in the uni, comes up with a plan to con the ton into buying his amateur paintings for an exorbitant price, so he can get the cash he needs to pay for tuition. Enter, his friends/models. Who were nice enough to model for him for free.
The problem is, that the Bridgertons may have made mysterious French painter Gautier-Gautier / 17yo Gareth, rich overnight, but also, now they’re trying to discover his identity. How was Gareth supposed to know his friends attracted so many lunatics.
Sophie, he can understand, Benedict was the initial target of this whole fake art show business. Con the delusional rich guy into buying the painting of odalisque Lady in Silver (wearing a mask and a transparent sheet). But what he didn’t expect was that Benedict would fall inlove at first sight and make a shrine for the painting in his room. Benedict also makes his sister’s lady’s maid clean the shrine, who happens to be Sophie. The very same Sophie who got so fed up with Benedict’s Lady in Silver delulu after a masquerade a year ago, that she was willing to pose semi naked for Gareth and was 100% unapologetic about conning the Benedict out of millions in cash. Now she’s cleaning a shrine to the painting of her own semi naked body and this close to killing Benedict.
  Kate, well Gareth doesn’t even know why Kate agreed to let him paint her naked back and buttocks in all their sultry and exquisite glory. All he knows is that she felt sorry for him and that some guy she disliked said she was uptight and priggish and hadn’t done one wild thing in her life, so Kate told Gareth to paint her buttocks on top of a mushroom and get as much cash as he could manage from auctioning off her likeness. Gareth thinks Kate may hate him, because a furious Anthony Bridgerton saw the painting and immediately had people looking for Gautier-Gautier. Gareth knows Anthony can’t prove the naked back-buttocks model in the painting is Kate, but boy is the man trying his best to make Kate confess to her evil misdeeds. He also knows from Sophie that Anthony keeps Kate’s painting in a secret place only he can enter and that he spends way way too much time there. On the bright side, Anthony paid a lot of money for the faceless mushroom fairy, so Gareth has to thank Kate for her honorable, if spiteful gift of charity.
Penelope volunteered to help Gareth because she thought his paintings of Sophie and Kate were beautiful and she was even fine with her face being visible because in her reasoning, nobody would recognize HER wearing negligee anyway, she was a wallflower, if people saw the resemblance, well, redheads were a dime a dozen in popular paintings, nobody would think it was her. Gareth thought so too, and he was happy to help Penelope get in touch with her desirable femininity by painting her as the goddess of love. He was proud of the redhead seductress he painted. That is until another furious Bridgerton walked away from the art show with the painting AND the woman he clearly recognized in tow. Gareth doesn’t know much about Colin Bridgerton, but he looked about to shoot somebody the moment he saw Penelope, and the painting of the goddess of love that everyone was admiring. Penelope at least tried to explain, but Colin was fit to be tied. Gareth really hopes his friend is okay and not locked away somewhere being ravished by Colin Bridgerton. the man did pay an exorbitant amount of money for the painting, but Gareth is okay with accusing Colin of kidnapping Penelope if he doesn’t hear from her in a few days.   
Phillip, okay yes Gareth did it on purpose, he painted the man as a dark sexy demon wearing a loincloth, but to be fair Gareth asked for help, Phillip said no, because #thinkOfMyChildren, so Gareth had to resort to blackmail. And while, yes it is wrong for Gareth to use Phillip’s sad depressive diary against him, it was also wrong of Phillip to say no to posing semi-nude for Gareth’s moneymaking schemes. What better way to celebrate being in London for a hot widowed father than to do Gareth a favor.  In the end the bidding war among the thirsty debutantes made loin cloth fire demon the hit of the night, I mean Eloise Bridgerton probably bankrupted a few years of her allowance with how much she put on the pot to take the painting. Now Phillip is complaining that Eloise is sniffing around too much when he’s shirtless in the gardens trying to teach his kids about plants. Honestly for Gareth that sounds like the opposite of a problem, but Phillip has this thing called modesty that Gareth can’t quite get.
Look at cousin Simon and his boxing buddy Michael, they were both good sports about being part of the art show. Sure Simon almost fainted with Daphne Bridgerton began arguing with her brother about the whole ‘if you can take the mushroom fairy, I can take the semi naked warrior, so give me the money’ ordeal, because you know, Anthony was Simon’s university pal and could recognize those warrior biceps anywhere. But in the end, he couldn’t deny Daphne her wish without explaining that she was thirsting over semi naked Simon, and giving up the mushroom fairy painting that other gentlemen were eying with envy was a non negotiable. Daphne walked away with her painting and so did dowager duchess Francesca Stirling, who took one look at Archangel Michael’s painting, paid a king’s ransom for it and walked out without so much as looking around, you gotta admire a woman on a mission really.  
Lucy’s painting was probably the less risque of the lot, because while she was only a year older than him, she still wanted to participate in the gautier-gautier moneymaking scheme and help Gareth, so Gareth painted her as a beautiful mermaid, in honor of their childhood friendship. She was dressed…sort of. I mean look at Greg Bridgerton, he bought it for her didn’t he? He thinks the art looks pretty. He thinks the art looks like Lucy. And with the way Greg talks about the mermaid, Gareth wonders how the man can be so dense. But that’s Lucy’s problem to worry about.
Enter his current problem. Debutate and diamond extraordinaire, way too perceptive to be sixteen, Hyacinth Bridgerton, who apparently knows all about Gareth’s secret identity as Gautier-Gautier and is threatening to let her siblings know, unless Gareth gives her a self portrait… for free.  
An: I’m thinking about writing a drabble about this, mainly just the part of Gareth and the fabulous seven coming up with the idea and actually implementing it. tagging @sea-owl my au loving buddy who is okay with hearing me ramble
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feelo-fick · 2 days ago
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OHHHH THATS SO FASCINATING... i really love the additions of the lions thoughts... i dont often see people showing how the demon is somewhat human and i honestly overlooked that as well! it makes things way more interesting, actually, to recognize that the demon has a will and desires (which is how he got created, sustained, and defeated in the first place). its kinda embarrassing for me cause i totally forgot about that even though its presented often in the manga - but anyways you win some you lose some and such jadkfdkfjd
"desire to be respected" "this seemed fine in the moment, but i mightve misjudged." i feel like the lions thought process here was oh! youre ashamed of yourself and feel like a disgrace? -> we can remove that shame! -> dignity gets in the way of fully letting loose! -> desire for respect removed. but as he says, its not as straight forward as that obviously.
"desire to stay angry" "seemed unhealthy" GOD. man! for one, it really shows the lions misunderstanding of humans despite being designed to interact with them. it doesnt grasp the thought that some negative emotions are required to sustain oneself. and also puts into perspective how scary it is to have your wants to be analyzed as good or bad by an outside force. as viewers we are aware of the discrimination that half-foots face and we know (at least partially) why hes so pent up and easy to set off all the time. it may not be a very healthy coping mechanism, but its still somewhat working. chilchucks determination and anger are what drives him to set firm boundaries and defend himself. and to have the lion casually brush all of that off as purely unhealthy is fucking WILD
also "something he said struck with me. i felt gross overeating." GRAH i love you winged lion. youre so interesting. i feel like it was probably the "youre not listening" line... once chilchuck points out how he doesnt have a say in which wishes that get granted it would make sense for the lion to reconsider : "does not everyone really want everything that they want?"
the lion sorta works like a computer program in that way i suppose. you need to be extremely specific with what you want otherwise itll just go for the simplest option : which is usually completely different from what you really asked for
ANYWAYS. enough lion talk PTOOEY i love him but anyways,
oguhgohugh izutsumi. ok so i personally see izutsumi as some form of autistic and seeing such a sudden change in one of her loved ones has got to be SO uncomfortable. like itd be uncomfortable for anyone but her especially, to the point where its irritating (in the way an itch is irritating)
"i wish i could get you the person you want" "...but i dont want a different guy. i just want you back" OW. GOD. OUCH... i dont wanna sound way too personal but i really resonate with both of them here... its scary to not recognize someone you love and its just as, arguably even more, scary to not recognize yourself. izutsumi knows (read: hopes, prays, wishes) its just that simple. in an ideal world it would be as easy as "hey! knock it off! this isnt funny!" "awh, alright, sorry about that - im back!" but it really doesnt work that way. sorta like the denial of the death of a loved one, except theyre still there. just not in the way you feel they should be.
oh yeah addendum to my tags in that poll, it makes more sense if i put it this way : he'd run that shit like the navy at FIRST, and be super wound up about keeping everything in check, but as his sanity starts slipping his plans do as well. you know when a deadline gets closer and closer and you start frantically using whatever the first thing you think of is, and then in hindsight youre like "why did i make that decision??" thats what i feel like it is. like... panic/anxiety clouds the mind and makes you do stupid things. same thing with overconfidence. euphoria. lust. desperation. et cetera. decisions made in a short time limit/relying on instinct and feeling are often not the best
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midnanoire · 9 months ago
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Made such a cute character in picrew and I'm going insane about her!!!!!! She's so cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAH
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Look at her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Picrew used btw ^^^^
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mollywog · 1 day ago
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Read Part 2 on Ao3
He’s just stepped outside for his morning break when he sees it: A dandelion growing up through a crack in the sidewalk behind the bakery; a burst of color among the drab winter grays. Spring is coming. He checks the date on his phone: March 20th - no, spring is here.
He’s been dragging himself around since January. Since he’s apparently missed their date two years in the future and Katniss had called off their correspondence.
But the dandelion has reawakened him.
Part 2 now on Ao3
Her letters had always been vague on personal details; he didn’t know things like where she worked or bought groceries so that he might try to meet her naturally now. But today, staring at the yellow flower, he remembers one particular he’d previously overlooked…
He races home and straight to the attic where he’d tucked away all their letters he’d saved: too painful to keep out, but too precious to dispose of. He rifles through the papers, scanning each one till he finds it; an off handed mention of how she’d begun taking her lunch in the hospital courtyard when the spring had arrived early this year…
She could be there now! What if he could meet her before even their first letter. Before it had all gone wrong.
Pages flutter to the floor as he stands; grabbing his jacket, he races out the door. Throwing the truck in reverse, he looks over his shoulder when a flash of red catches his eye.
The mailbox flag is up.
The metal box is purely decorative; Here before he moved in, despite the mail carrier not delivering up this far. It’s only ever been used to communicate with Katniss.
He puts the truck into park, staring at the small red flag as he slowly approaches in disbelief. She’d been firm in her final letter, never retrieving any of the others he'd placed in the box, lowering the flag each time, his pleas left inside unread.
What’s changed now?
There’s a single scrap of paper, unevenly torn from a notebook, the scrawl frantic, ink intermittently dying out mid letter - yet he can read every word;
Peeta, I know why you didn’t show up that night in January. Please don’t try to find me today. It will end badly - It can only end badly unless you wait. If you still care for me in two years, I’ll be here: at the lake house, and if not, I can be glad that you’re simply alive, but don’t look for me, don’t try to find me yet. Please wait. Please! I lo…
He stands frozen, the note clutched in his hand, reading and rereading. How could she have known he would look for her? What would happen if he went anyway? And did she really mean to tell him she loves him before she’d run out of room on the page? It feels too much to hope for, but it seems there’s only one way to find out.
~~~~~
It takes all his willpower, but he doesn’t try to find her that day, nor the days immediately after. Instead he throws himself into the house: caulking and painting, replacing smoke alarms and light bulbs, and when it’s finally warm enough, planting wildflowers in front of the bay window facing the lake. Readying the place for the next occupant: for Katniss.
A few months later he puts the house on the market.
His brothers think he’s mad after all he’s poured into it, and maybe he is, but he doesn’t know how this works and he won’t risk screwing up the timeline. Besides, it had always been more like a project than a home and based on her letters, Katniss had needed this place more than him.
Despite his convictions, he can barely believe it when he sees the familiar signature on the offer.
He moves into a modest apartment close to the bakery.
His pretty neighbor stops by often to flirt. She’s sweet and kind and he thinks under different circumstances he’d flirt back and see where things led, but now he’s not even tempted: He’s waiting for Katniss.
So he gently rebuffs her advances until she begins looking for cups of sugar and small talk elsewhere.
He starts painting again. He hasn’t picked up a brush since his accident in high school when he’d lost his leg, but he remembers Katniss writing about singing for the first time after her father’s death and he wants to be brave like that.
Time continues to pass, both by inches and miles.
Another spring comes and his brother’s wife gives birth. The first time he holds his niece he weeps.
He knows his family thinks he’s moorless, letting his life pass him by, but that’s the furthest thing from his mind. He could be dead if not for Katniss’s warning and have never known this joy.
His paintings are featured in a local gallery with a piece right in the front window. He wonders if Katniss has ever walked past it. If she’s stopped to admire, or even notice at all.
He doesn’t look for her exactly, but he’s always vigilant of his surroundings. Wondering if they’ve crossed paths unaware. Maybe she had sat at this park bench mere minutes before or passed him in the produce aisle as he considered the pears.
The fateful January 2nd comes: The one they’d agreed to meet on.
He still doesn’t understand how any of this works, but he’s certain he can’t show up this time around either: the whole house of cards could come tumbling down. In one of his moments of firmer resolve he takes a dose of sleep syrup so he can’t change his mind.
He wakes the next morning in misery. But after rereading all her letters, he’s more determined than ever to make up for lost time if only she’ll allow it.
So he waits for the spring until it finally arrives.
The day begins like any other: He gets up at the usual time and goes through the familiar routine: showering, dressing, brushing his teeth. But instead of heading to work he leaves a message at the bakery that he won’t be in today. He feels a little guilty for the cake consultation he’ll miss, but he’d been too superstitious to take the day off in advance.
His anticipation grows as he paces the apartment, eventually finding himself appraising his reflection in front of the bathroom mirror. He was never more himself than when he wrote to her, but will she be disappointed if he’s not the tall, handsome stranger she might have imagined?
He can’t bear to speculate so he grabs his keys and heads for a diner outside of town, just a short drive from the lake house. He orders tea and doodles on the placemat to keep his eyes from flitting to the clock behind the register as the final minutes seem to pass slower than the years he’s already waited thus far. He has a conviction that he can’t see her before her last letter was sent and only after the second hand passes twelve on his predetermined time does he stand from the booth.
He heads to the truck when he’s stopped in his tracks by a dandelion growing inches from his front tire. Had he pulled up any closer, it would have been crushed. And yet, by luck, or maybe by fate, it survived. His nerves bubble over into laughter at the sight. He plucks up the flower, twirling it between his finger and thumb and a strange calmness washes over him.
In no time at all he’s turning off 74th onto the familiar gravel road of Mockingjay Lane and when the house comes into view, a woman turns from the mailbox where the flag still stands erect.
Katniss.
There are tears in her eyes and a disbelieving smile on her face as she wraps herself in his arms and he finally, finally feels like he’s home.
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My THG Comment Feast Fic - Inspired by an 18 month old prompt of ‘postcard’ and the 2006 movie ‘The Lake House’
Read on AO3
The bell above the door dings as they enter the bakery and the broad shouldered man behind the counter looks up from his phone, fixing a smile as he welcomes them in.
Prim returns the smile, leading them towards the counter, arms linked. Katniss pays little mind to the introductions and chatter of the man and her sister, staring disinterestedly at the display case of pastries until Prim’s voice close to her ear brings her back to the present, “He’s cute!” Katniss looks up to catch the back of the baker’s unnaturally blond head as he slips out through a swinging door behind the counter, “and I didn’t see a ring.”
“Yeah well I do,” she says, grasping her sister’s hand from under her arm, playfully waving it in front of them. “We’re here to talk wedding cakes, remember?”
Prim rolls her eyes, “don’t be obtuse: I obviously meant for you. Come on Katniss, how long has it been since you’ve been on a date?”
She shrugs, turning away. She hadn't told her sister about her last romance and recent split… if you could even call it that. Prim wouldn't understand - hell, Katniss barely understands. Nevertheless, she knows her low spirits haven’t gone unnoticed. Prim’s worried about her when she should be focused on the happiest day of her life.
Katniss smiles weakly. She’s trying. She really is trying. She’s here isn’t she?
The man re-emerges with another who can only reasonably be his brother, taking his place at the register while the first man ushers them back to an office off the kitchen.
“I’ve always loved your cakes,” Prim starts in.” When we were little I’d drag Katniss to your window to stare at them on our way home from school. God, but that was ages ago, before we moved. Work brought me back to the area and when I got engaged, I just knew I needed one of your cakes for my wedding.”
She takes to watching the man as he and her sister converse. He is handsome, she supposes, but it’s more than her sister’s comment that has her focused on him. There’s something familiar about him, but she can’t put her finger on it.
“My brother would have been doing the cakes back then; I swear he was always more artist than baker. I do the decorating now. I’ve got some samples of my work if you're interested; Make sure it still fits your vision? Actually-” He’s rifling through a stack of binders on his desk, when he pauses, pulling out his phone, “I’ll just show you here.” The screen glows to life and he toggles to his photos, but not before she catches a glimpse. He extends the phone towards Prim, but Katniss’s hand shoots out to intercept.
She clicks the button on the side twice until the lock screen background appears, revealing a full view of what she already suspected was there. All the air is knocked from her lungs, but somehow she’s able to force the words out, “What is this?”
The man’s eyebrows shoot up, but he quickly conceals his surprise, “The lake house? It’s up at the end of 74th, off Mockingjay lane. It was my brother's passion project. You’d never believe what it looked like when he bought it based on that. He fixed it up himself.”
“Katniss! Oh my god, that's your house? What are the odds?” Prim looks up from peering over her shoulder.
Katniss’s thumb sweeps over the screen caressing the glowing image, but it’s not the house she cares about. In the forefront are three men standing together, arms connected in a shoulder embrace. The first is recognizable as the one in front of her now, the third, the brother who replaced him at the register, but it’s the man in the middle she can’t tear her eyes from: “Peeta,” she doesn’t realize she’s said it aloud.
“Yeah, did you know him?”
How can she explain that she does know Peeta? That he’s the only man she’s certain she’s ever loved even though they’d never met. That they’d been exchanging letters through the lake house mailbox for months… oh, and that said mailbox had been transporting her letters two years to the day into the past and his two years forward to the present ever since she moved in… no one would believe her. She barely believes it herself, but here it is in front of her. Proof of Peeta’s existence.
But it still didn’t explain why he’d stood her up when they’d attempted to meet three months ago. He had even been the one to suggest it, making a reservation under his name for January 2nd, two years and one day in the future from when they’d decided for him, but only the next day for her.
But he’d never shown up and as she sat at the table heartbroken and alone, avoiding the waitstaff’s pitying stares, the cold light of reality had crept back in. Of course he hadn’t waited for her. Who was she to even hope for such a thing?
But something is wrong, Peeta’s brother looks suddenly downcast and it dawns on her: ‘Did you know him’
Did not do. Dread pools in her stomach, “what happened?”
“Peeta died. Couple years ago…” He looks at the calendar, “two years ago today actually: the first day of spring. Hit by a bus right in front of the hospital.”
She’s transported back to that day two years prior:
She’d just started at the hospital earlier that month, a receptionist job at Prim’s practice she’d found for her so they could live closer. No sooner had she stepped outside for her lunch break had there been a horrible accident right in front of her eyes.
She’d been the first to reach the man, crouching down by his side to offer what little aid she could until the paramedics from inside could be alerted and arrive. She’d cooed soothing words as she tended to him and bid him to stay with her.
Then his hand had touched her wrist and she’d looked up to find his blue eyes trained on hers and he’d smiled. Actually smiled and replied ‘always’ before closing his eyes and slipping away.
She hadn’t known him then, but the response and those eyes had been haunting her ever since. So much so that she’d quit her job at the hospital, a few months later finding the secluded house by the lake for sale.
… of course Peeta hadn’t made it to their date two months ago, He’d died in her arms years before they’d ever exchanged their first letter…
Her eye flit to tie time displayed on the screen: 9:48, almost three hours before the accident in Peeta’s timeline.
Katniss stands abruptly. “I have to go.” Even as she speaks her plan is still forming, “Prim. I need to take the car. Can you get home alright? I need to… I have to go.”
She has the presence of mind to rip a slip of paper from her sister’s wedding planning journal and grab a pen from the jar on the baker's desk before dashing out the door. She only hopes she makes it with enough time. That he’ll see her note. That he’ll heed her warning…
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