#I want to be someone who sees an opportunity and actually acts on it instead of hamming and hawing about it until it's too late

[eyebulb]

I like ranting and I found another topic so here goes. Blitz' treatment of Stolas in Mastermind and Sinsmas is not OOC or sudden and here's why. First of.. Blitz has always been a caregiver. We see in flashbacks with Fizz that he's very protective over people he cares about. We see it in fights in the way he gets between people and danger and we see it in his adoption of Loona. Loona and Blitz are an anomaly. Adopting a hellhound isn't strange, but adopting one as a daughter is. Blitz saw someone who struggled alone and acted out. He saw someone like himself and wanted to give them opportunities that he didn't have. So yea, he's a caretaker. He also sees M&M as family despite them being employees. But he takes care of them too. Blitz also has one very big traumatic event where he lost everyone he cares about in one go. His mother died and Barbie and Fizz started hating him. He was alone and had to pick himself up. He can reconcile with Fizz and Barbie but he will never get the opportunity to make it up to his mother, and this kills him. So now we've established that. So what about Stolas. Stolas is someone who he reluctantly caught feelings for. He didn't want to have feelings for him and he didn't trust that anything could come of it. For him though, that nothing could come of it was also a safety net for him. He's scared of hurting people he loves so he doesn't let people get close enough. He's in the habit of pushing people's limits so that when they leave he won't feel as bad about it. He did it with Verosika when she told him she loved him. So having this thing with Stolas that he actually enjoyed but that was seemingly casual made it safe to indulge in. Stolas' wouldn't get to close anyways cus he doesn't care about Blitz that way. So emotionally he couldn't get hurt. And Stolas is a Goetia, one of the most powerful beings in hell so he couldn't get hurt that way either. So in every way, this is great for Blitz! Who's afraid of hurting people. But... With time we see Blitz realize that Stolas isn't indestructible. First with Striker hospitalizing him and then later when Stolas admits his feelings. Although he didn't quite realize how emotionally hurt Stolas was until he got his chance to provoke the crap out of Stolas and he still didn't change the narrative (apology tour). By then though, Blitz already accepted that he lost Stolas. That he fucked up.. again... and he spirals. He self-sabotages and tries to push everyone away by being shitty. Cus that's what he thinks he deserves. But Millie is stronger and won't let him. In Ghostfuckers he starts to realize that he has some self-worth. That he CAN make people happy too. Then Mastermind happens.. and that's an emotional rollercoaster for everyone involved. They all have a near-death situation happening to them and they go through the very real threat of almost losing someone they love. The IMP-group had this with Blitz but Blitz had it with Stolas. You gotta remember that Blitz also thought that Stolas was going to die here. Once again he was faced with the risk of losing someone completely and not being able to make it up to them. Just like his mother. But Stolas didn't die. He lost everything instead. He ended up in a situation that Blitz personally has found himself in before. By this point Blitz has made peace with his feelings for Stolas, and before this he thought he'd fucked up enough to lose him. But now Stolas needs help, and Blitz knows how to give it. Here's his chance to make amends. So.. TLDR' Blitz is a caretaker at heart, loves Stolas, thought he'd never get to make it up to him again and knows what it's like to lose everything. Ofc he's gonna do his absolute best to be there for him. Plus. It's not even the first person we see him being soft to. He's soft with Loona all the time but ALSO with Fizz. He's soft if he needs to be with people he cares deeply for. That's it.

[aberooski]

If I get yelled at for sitting down or have to keep doing everybody's fucking jobs with no respect and just keep getting nothing but flack or get patronized by another fucking old person one more fucking time I stg I'm gonna quit.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

♡ FEM reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna, or Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[dreamsteddie]

I love pre Season 3 Steddie AUs so much because there are so many opportunities for Eddie to be so incredibly jealous of his boyfriend's new best friend, Robin Buckley.

Eddie got so used to Steve spending basically every moment of free time he has with Eddie in some capacity, even if it's just them shooting the shit in the back of Eddies van getting high after a long day and he's come to covet his Steve Time like a precious treasure.

And then all of a sudden Steve has a friend his age??? A friend who doesn't have an 8PM curfew???? What the fuck??????

But Eddie doesn't want to be a toxic, controlling boyfriend who doesn't let his partner have a social life! He really doesn't! And he gets that Steve and Robin went through something together that they won't, can't, share with him and they need each other. But he got so used to having all of Steve's time that whenever he has to spend a Saturday night alone because Robin and Steve are having Boy Time watching a soccer game and talking about their crushes, instead of hitting up his own friends or working on a campaign or whatever he just pines and sighs by the window lamenting about whether or not his beloved will return from the war. Wayne hates it.

When Steve and Eddie see each other the next day having spent literally less than 24 hours apart, Eddie latches on like a limpet and demands to be consoled with a thousand kisses and a grilled cheese sandwich.

Eventually, once Steve and Robin are a little more settled after the events of Starcourt, the three of them start spending more time together as a trio which at least allows Eddie to hold his boyfriend during movie night. Eddie reluctantly admits that Robin is actually really cool and they become fast friends right up until Eddie realized Robin is stealing his boyfriend ON PURPOSE.

It's not all the time but what Eddie has come to learn about Robin Buckley is that she is a menace. She'll real you in with her sweet freckles and charming ramblings but she's always looking for a way to fuck with Eddie, especially if he's wronged her first. Eddie returns a tape without rewinding it? Steve won't be at band practice tomorrow, actually, because Robin needs someone to help with her art project due on Monday. Eddie got Cheeto dust on Robin's favorite sweater? Suddenly Robin and Steve have plans to get drunk and plan a way for Robin to ask Vickie out for Valentine's Day. No boyfriends allowed. Eddie stole Robin's favorite Steve Sweater before she could get to it on movie night? Steve rainchecks Eddie for their bi-weekly Let's Get High date because Robin is conveniently sick. Must be because she didn't have a jacket on movie night.

Once Eddie catches on it becomes a fierce game competition between the both of them. Steve acts like he's none the wiser, but he's secretly lapping up all the attention he's getting.

[hannieehaee]

how do you think svt would react to their idol s/o performing a sensual dance with another idol?

their idol!s/o performing a sensual dance with another idol

content: implied established relationship, idol!reader, gn reader, slightly suggestive but not really, etc.

wc: 675

a/n: thank u for requesting<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

one of the only members i see feeling a bit of actual jealousy at seeing you dance sensually with someone else. would be super supportive and in love with the sight of you dancing so provocatively, but would have to completely ignore your partner to feel at peace lmao.

jeonghan -

plays up the role of jealous boyfriend just for the fun of it, attempting to rile you up a bit as a bit. he wouldn't actually be jealous, mostly just enjoying the sight of you dancing so sensually, aware that the sight may be for all, but you were his adorable s/o in any other scenario.

joshua -

acts scandalized by it just to make you whine at him to shut up. keeps up the act all throughout just to annoy you, but is super supportive and not shy in expressing both his pride and attraction for you. will for sure practice the dance with you to help you perfect it.

jun -

he literally would have no grounds to complain as an actor who just had a bunch of steamy scenes lmao. he wouldnt feel jealous either way, being supportive of you as you were of him and wanting nothing more than to show you how proud he was.

soonyoung -

that should be him!!! pushing the sensual aspect of the dance aside, he'd just be jealous that you're dancing with someone else in general. he'd wanna be your one and only dance partner for life, so he'd pout at you at times, insisting you at least rehearse with him (as he had learned the entire choreo without you even asking him too lol).

wonwoo -

very nonchalant about it lol. doesnt mind that you're doing a sensual dance. would probably just tease you about it, claiming it was scandalous and playing it up for you just for giggles. would be super supportive otherwise and show up at every rehearsal.

jihoon -

maybe a little flustered at the sight, with a fleeting thought about what it'd be like if it were him you were dancing with. maybe a teeny bit jealous but he'd hide it in order to fully support you. he's danced with girls before, so it's not like he can complain.

seokmin -

that's his s/o!!!! they look so beautiful and sexy and gorgeous and fuck, even though he'd love to be up there with you instead, he'd just be beaming with pride and maybe some cockiness at knowing that's his s/o and even though everyone may want them, only he can have them.

mingyu -

huffs and puffs about it a bit, but mostly in jest. loves to banter with you and bug you any time you do something like this, so he'd just take this as an opportunity for some silly back and forth about how he should be your only dance partner. fully supportive and proud of you otherwise.

minghao -

dancing is an art and its an art he's in love with. seeing you dance in such a way would fire him up inside due to how beautiful and professional you looked, but he would not feel envy for your partner. he'd wanna try and learn the dance with you, though.

seungkwan -

a little riled up by it but he loves and trusts you too much to actually feel threatened by it. will mostly just feel a little cocky at knowing you were all his and that he could have repeats of his performance in private whenever he wanted.

vernon -

i cant see him caring too much about it. probably finds it hot since its u who's dancing, but wont actually feel any jealousy. will help you practice by learning the choreo himself if u ask.

chan -

his passion for dancing would take over and ignore any jealousy he'd feel in any other circumstance. if you were the romantic interest in a drama or something, maybe he'd feel jealous, but in this case he'd just wanna learn the choreo to practice with you and share that love of dance you both have.

[hearts4renaa]

YOU'RE LOSING ME.

summary: how the love began to die out between you and them. featuring kamisato ayato, alhaitham, diluc, and zhongli. gn! reader (see a/n below) pt. 2 here w/c: 2.1k words in total a/n: inspired by the new vault track from midnights by taylor swift. meant to be a gender neutral reader but one of the lyrics i reference uses "her". otherwise, no pronouns used.

And I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her.

“I’ll be entering an arranged marriage to the daughter of another clan.” Ayato said matter of factly, as if it was as casual as discussing the weather. Today was the off day Ayato had free. He’s been so busy the past month that he barely has time for you. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you woke up together. He always slept late and woke up earlier than you. The affection was rarely there too; The usual loving kisses and cuddles were reduced to pecks on the cheek and pats on the arm. This was one of the rare times you were actually able to sit down with him. 

The air was tense, almost impossible to breathe in. What was supposed to be a romantic dinner quickly turned sour the moment Ayato announced a piece of news you never wanted to hear. “I’ll be meeting her in two weeks. I’m expecting the marriage ceremony to take place within the next three months or so.” He wasn’t looking at you, instead more focused on the food in front of him. Your chopsticks fall from your hands, the clatter piercing the silence between you two. Ayato looks at you, completely deadpanned. You take the moment to really, truly look at him. His expression was standoffish, and his eyes were dispassionate. Just where did that loving gaze go? “What?” He asks.

“Ayato, you can’t just expect me to be happy about this.” You huff in frustration, picking up your chopsticks and setting them down in a proper manner. “When you accepted the proposal, did you just forget about our relationship? About me?” 

Ayato rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re acting like I declared undying love for her. I’m simply doing what’s best for the clan, and for Inazuma as a whole.” He puts down his chopsticks as well, clearly not focused on eating anymore. “It’s not like I’m ending things with you. Marrying her opens many opportunities I can’t pass on.”

“You’re not ending things with me, but you’re just gonna go off and marry some girl?” Your heart broke a little more with every word. If someone were to listen closely, they could probably hear each individual crack. “Ayato, our relationship has already been wavering a little…you’re so busy. It’s like you just can’t fit me into your schedule.” Your eyes start to become glossy, and you need to swallow back your tears to fight against them falling. “How can I expect us to stay together when you need to make room for two spouses now? I thought love meant more to you than business did.” Your voice cracked with every syllable that fell from your lips.

Ayato stood up from his seat on the floor, adjusting his sleeves and beginning to make his way to the door. He slides it open before stopping in place. “Marrying her has a lot to offer.” He speaks, but he isn’t even looking at you.

“And I don’t?” You ask. You didn’t even know if you wanted the answer to that. Luckily for you, he didn’t answer at all. He looked back at you from over his shoulder. He takes a breath, and you feel as if he’s stealing the air straight out of your lungs. He turns his head back and sighs. He steps forward, leaving the room. 

The door shuts, and you are left in silence.

And I’m fading, thinking: Do something babe, say something.

With Alhaitham being appointed as Acting Grand Sage, it’s only natural that his workload for the Akademiya would increase. However, if there’s one thing that Alhaitham truly hates, it’s when unnecessary work piles up and begins to leak into his personal life, like a bucket overflowing with water. A work-life balance can only go so far before work begins to completely tilt the scale in its favor. Naturally, this takes away from time the two of you could spend together.

Normally, that would be completely fine with you. You knew Alhaitham was a busy man with a busy lifestyle. It’s completely reasonable for him to not throw aside his work just for you. Alhaitham always tries to make time for you, to show you his affection in small ways that don’t take up too much time. Either with tea he makes for you before he leaves for work, small trinkets that begin to appear on your bedside table, or a hushed declaration of love when he accidentally wakes you up when he rises early. But recently, his efforts have been slowly dwindling. You no longer wake up to the smell of tea. You no longer reach over to your nightstand in a sleepy haze, only to feel an object that was not there before. You no longer hear an “I love you” amongst the sound of your bedsheets ruffling in the early hours of the morning.

Of course, you noticed. So you took it amongst yourself to try and do something to express your love. You usually go to sleep before him, but here you are in the living room, waiting for him to return. It’s already quite late, and you fight back a yawn every twenty minutes or so, but you’re determined to stay awake to greet him. The smell of his favorite food wafts in from the kitchen, and you smile while thinking of his reaction. You might not be a Michelin star chef, but you pour love into everything you make him.

Finally, the door opens, and there he is. His eyes are tired, and an annoyed expression is etched onto his face. “Hey, honey.” You shoot up from your seat to greet him at the door. His head snaps in your direction slightly, not expecting you to still be awake. He lets out a little grunt as a response. You can tell he’s in a bad mood, but you keep pushing. “You’re home late.” You state before realizing how you pointed out the painfully obvious.

“I always am.” His voice is monotone, cold. He walks straight past you, barely even sparing you a glance.

Your hope begins to falter, but you try again. “Are you hungry? I made you dinner.” You reach your hand out to lightly touch his. He pulls his hand away with no hesitation. You feel the familiar sting deep in your stomach, and you try your best to ignore it. You clear your throat as if to rid the moment of his past action before speaking again. “Then, maybe we could eat together-”

He groans aloud. “Can you just be quiet?” He snaps. His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t filled with love or hate. It was indifference, and in all honesty, that hurt so much more. “I’m exhausted. The last thing I need today is you nagging me.” 

You falter, as if you were shrinking away in a desperate attempt to try and disappear. “Right.” Your voice is quiet, meek. “Of course.” You turn away to walk into the kitchen, and you hear your shared bedroom door slam shut. You sit at the dinner table, gazing at the untouched meals on the opposite ends. Your hand moves to touch the spoon and stir it around in the food, but any outsider could tell that you have no intention of eating a single bite. 

For the rest of the night, you sit there alone as the food goes cold.

Lose something babe, risk something. (You’re losing me.)

If there’s one thing Diluc strives to do, it’s protect you. He lost his father already, he can’t risk losing you too. It brings him peace to know that you’re safe at Dawn Winery, away from things that can bring you harm. But even though he is protective, it’s not as though he keeps you locked inside the house. He knows of your adventurous spirit and he would never want to hurt you. However, he has a habit of being a little paranoid. The people of Mondstadt are aware of your relationship, but he rarely lets the two of you be seen together. He prefers things quite private, but you’re starting to get a little sick of it.

You just returned from a small commission; it’s been ages since you’ve done one. It felt so refreshing to wield your weapon and go on a mini adventure! Even if it was just a few slimes near Windrise, the experience was one you haven’t had in far too long. You end up with a small cut on your hand, but you look at it in pride as you walk back to the winery. You open the heavy door, and you’re met with the face of your lover.

“Y/N, where were you?” Diluc’s question is loud, his voice laced in concern. A second barely passes, and he’s already by your side. He catches sight of your hand and cages it in his larger ones. “Why is your hand hurt?”

You shake him off lightly, heading to the couch to set your things down. “I took a small commission.” You explain. “Just a little group of slimes. My hand got cut, but I’m okay. Don’t worry about it!” You attempt to reassure him, but the crease in his eyebrows doesn't go away.

“Y/N, how many times have I told you?” Diluc scolded. He folds his arms over his chest. “You don’t need to take commissions. I provide for us enough already.”

Your eyes roll before you can stop them. You can feel your frustration rise inside you. “I didn’t take the commission for the money, Diluc.” You huff at him. “I wanted an adventure, even if it was a small one. It’s the experience I wanted.”

Diluc scoffs. “Oh, so getting hurt is an enjoyable experience for you?” Diluc never had the most friendly tone, but you’d have to be truly clueless to miss the sarcasm weaved into his words.

“By the Seven, Diluc, it was a cut!” You exclaim. “All of this over a cut?”

He looks you in the eyes. “You know I just want you to be safe.”

Your eyes softened slightly, biting your lip. “But Diluc, you play it too safe sometimes.” You grab your weapons and bag again, adjusting your jacket before heading towards the door. Despite just getting home, you felt the need to get away, to cool off. Maybe to kill some other monsters, you weren’t sure.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Out.” You respond curtly. You weren’t sure of your destination, but you didn’t care. You just needed to be away from him.

“Y/N-“ He called out. You cut him off by slamming the heavy winery doors.

Choose something babe, I’ve got nothing to believe, unless you’re choosing me.

“I love you.” Zhongli murmured, knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping his pole arm. He towered over you, who was on the ground in a pool of blood. The metallic smell was hard to ignore. “I love you, I truly do. And I always will.”

You laugh bitterly. “You love me, and you caused my injury.” You use your hand to weakly gesture towards your torso. “Some love you have…”

Zhongli grips his weapon even harder. He digs the heels of his feet into the group as an effort to ground himself. He knew that if he were to take a single step, he’d run to you, and he’s not sure if he can stop himself. He takes a breath to calm himself, and every breath of air he breathes makes him wish he could breathe that same life into you instead. “It’s for my nation.” He says as calmly as he can. Oh, how he wished he could run to you, kiss you, and heal you. He continues with bated breath. “You know I cherish my nation.”

You cough, blood splattering out. “More than you cherish me?” You ask weakly. “More than you cherish us?”

Zhongli’s eyes soften with sadness. “Yes…more than I cherish you, my love.”

You sigh, suddenly feeling the fatigue hit you like a truck. You’re so tired. So, so tired. You voice out your thoughts. “I’m exhausted, Zhongli.” Your voice is weak, along with your body.

“I’m sorry.” He says before facing away from you. He can’t bear to look at you in this state. He can’t bear to see what he’s done to you. He takes slow steps away, using all his willpower to not turn around and run to your side.

“I love you, Zhongli.” You call out.

He takes one final look. “I love you too, dearest.”

A sad, soft smile etches itself onto your face. Your eyelids droop, and eventually, they flutter closed. Zhongli stares at you sadly. His weapon drops to the ground, making a loud clatter. The silence is deafening. He peers at your lifeless body before closing his eyes. “You’ll always be my favorite story.” He whispers.

A single tear falls from his eyes.

[hismercytomyjustice]

Can I just say how much I adore the domesticity Lee Majeoub brings to his role as Agent Stone?

Especially knowing how he approached the role as him and Robotnik both being orphans, which gave them a point of connection from the very beginning.

Sure, his character could look at him and just be in awe of his brilliance (even tho our boy Stone canonically has 1 IQ point higher than him) or just fall over himself to appease him. But he doesn’t.

It might look like he does. He’s constantly bending over backwards to accommodate him and take care of him, but it’s not because he’s a mindless sycophant. It’s because he knows what it’s like to be alone and he doesn’t want Robotnik to feel that way anymore.

When we first meet Robotnik, everything about him is all shiny and chrome. But as Stone becomes more involved in the series, we see all these soft little touches being added. He takes those sterile spaces and makes them an actual home with additions like the granny square blanket.

(It’s not confirmed but regardless the man has shown he’s proficient in the textile arts, dammit. And who else is that crab is gonna make a granny square blanket?! WHO???!!!)

He cooks, he cleans, he tailors, he makes coffee, he helps him with his evil plans, he supports him and his dreams, he takes care of him.

Most importantly, he’s there for him, no matter what.

Robotnik consistently laments the fact he never had a family throughout the series, but he does.

Agent Stone took the time to learn how to do all of these things and also to share them with Robotnik. Because he understands home and family are what you make, not about who you share genes with.

And like, even when Robotnik bounces to go hang out with his long lost grandpa, Stone’s only concern is that he’s not being completely honest with him and that Robotnik could get hurt and he’s right.

He doesn’t tell him to stop spending time with him or that he shouldn’t care about him. He knows how much Robotnik has always craved a familial connection and now he has one! He’s willing to step back, even though it pains him, so Robotnik can realize that dream.

And when he’s proven right, he doesn’t gloat or act betrayed (even though tbh he has every reason to). He’s still there for him. Because Robotnik is his family.

The movies are all about found family and how, even if you lose the people important to you, that doesn’t mean you’ll never find someone to love and be loved by in return. We see that with both Sonic and Shadow. And especially in Maria’s quote about how “The light shines, even though the star is gone.”

Love is a choice. How you express love is a choice. This is especially true in the third movie. Robotnik’s grandfather is ready to burn everything to the ground so everyone else knows how Maria was taken too soon and feels his pain. But he had an opportunity to build a new relationship with his other grandchild. To take the love he had for Maria and her love for him and to share it with Robotnik. He can choose to love and be loved in return.

It’s not like Robotnik doesn’t freely give him his love. Even when his grandpa is about to straight up murder him, he still has a moment where he wants to tell him he loves him. Even after all his grandpa has to say to him is “You’re no Maria.”

(TOP TEN ANIME BETRAYALS OF ALL TIME)

Stone and Maria are great parallels too. Robotnik in the first movie feels so removed from humanity. His #1 priority is himself. And I think if he’d met his grandpa in the first movie, before he’d built his relationship with Stone, he truly would’ve believed his grandfather when he said, “There’s no one down there who cares about you.”

Instead he sacrifices himself (hopefully he‘s still alive somehow, please please please) for the sake of humanity. Or, tbh for the sake of his real family. He murked his grandpa without batting an eye the second he realized Stone was in danger.

We see this paralleled with Sonic too after Tom is hurt. He lets his grief and fear get the better of him and he initially makes the same decision as Shadow and Gerald did. He chooses to act in hurt and anger. Shadow calls him out on it too, telling him he made the same choice to take revenge, regardless of what the people he loves would actually want him to do.

IDK MAN. I just love these movies so much and I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS. T^T

[reverie-starlight]

kenma for the soul <3

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. this was in my drafts for so long that I forgot abt it. based off of my own routine when I get a panic attack. I believe I wrote the bulk of this after one, actually.

warnings: depictions of a panic attack, my own personal coping methods (I swear they make sense in my head) and kenma being soft for you. this was edited at like 2 am so if there’s some mistakes… no there’s not.

it’ll pass.

you know that. you’ve known that for years, actually, yet somehow the sentiment doesn’t hold up in the moments you need it to the most.

kenma watches as you switch between sitting on the edge of the bed with him and pacing the length of your bedroom.

he really feels for you. he still gets panic attacks from time to time, after all, so he knows the basics of what you’re going through like the back of his hand.

he’s still trying to learn your specifics, though.

he’s observant and he’s strategic. with those skills, he’s gathered that you do not respond well to sitting still and taking deep breaths.

you continue pacing and wringing your fingers together, clenching and unclenching your fists and shaking your arms out (he recognizes this as literally trying to dispel the panic from your body).

he watches you closely, wanting to figure you out as soon as possible so he can utilize his strategic side and end your suffering. are you trying to tire yourself out? why is it that you don’t find the breathing exercises useful? why doesn’t sitting still and meditating benefit you?

oh… of course, why didn’t he think of that sooner?

you don’t like those coping methods because you see it as another opportunity to focus on your trigger. by trying to stop it, you just end up thinking about it more. they require you to be aware of every sensation in your body, but if you’re moving around a lot instead, it acts as a distraction.

so he’ll need to help you redirect your train of thought some more.

“babe,” he calls out quietly, not having the energy or willingness to be any louder at two in the morning.

you don’t stop pacing, but you look at him and nod to let him know you’re listening.

“let’s go to the kitchen.”

you blink as he gets up and takes your hand, leading you out of your bedroom. he hopes the change of scenery and mystery of what he has planned brings you out of your head a bit.

“kenma-“ you start, voice raw from the crying you did earlier.

“do you want to make cookies?”

you watch as he goes to the fridge and gets some water and ice cubes. (he read once that the ice can shock you out of panic and act as a good redirection strategy.)

you take the glass when he hands it to you and allow the chill of the ice ground you a bit.

your head feels clearer now. the panic had mostly subsided well before you were led out of the bedroom, but you had continued pacing anyway.

in your mind it makes sense- relaxing too soon, when it’s not quite gone, gives it the chance to come back and restart the cycle all over again. tiring yourself out and distracting yourself with the familiar movement patterns that helped stopped it in the first place…

it’s always worked for you.

and now, sitting up on the barstool by the kitchen island with kenma, you definitely feel the exhaustion.

so you shake your head. “no, I’m too tired, babe.”

he nods, successfully getting a read on your energy level. “okay,” he says. “drink your water, I can make toast for us.”

you blink at him. “why?”

he shrugs. “you must’ve worked up an appetite with all that walking, right? I got winded just watching you.”

you snort, surprisingly, and the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit. “I guess so… oh but kenma, I kept you up, you must be tired too.”

he gets the bread ready to put into the toaster and glances at you over his shoulder. “you do realize you’re dating someone who once streamed for twenty-four hours straight, right? one late night is nothing.”

you sip your water and hold an ice cube in your cheek, letting it melt. “still, I’m-“

“and don’t apologize. I know that’s what you were about to do.”

you sheepishly look down into your glass and let the silence linger until he presents you some buttered toast. “remember how I told you I used to get really bad panic attacks in high school? the ones I get now aren’t nearly as intense as those, but I do still know how draining they are,” he rips off a chunk of bread and feeds it to you. “it’s not too much to care for you, okay?“ he knows the feeling of being afraid to be a burden well, too, unfortunately.

you smile and knock your head against his as you chew. “thanks, kenma. I love you.”

there’s still a lot he has to learn for you, but he knows that if this were a video game, it’d be the easiest level he’d ever complete.

“love you too. now let’s finish this and get to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@dira333 some kenma :3

[tsukimefuku]

CHAPTER THREE PT. II: DIMINISHED CAPACITY ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni! | oopsie, is that... a special banner? gee I wonder if there's something to see at the end of this chapter, huh?

❀ diminished capacity.

Diminished capacity refers to an individual’s impossibility to form the intent necessary for committing any criminal act, because their capacity to fully comprehend the nature of their actions is impaired. It doesn’t, however, completely exclude their responsibility, and they may be held accountable to a lesser offense.

wc: 5.5K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. slow-burn romcom. professor and college student pre-relationship. internship interviews suck. nobara likes to steal food from people. mentions of hypothetical violent crime. nanami gets pestered by gojo even here. higuruma likes sunflowers. nanami has a sixth sense.

❀ notes etc.

Apologies to any colleagues reading the word “evidence” in place of “proof” and feeling like tackling me with a broom, lol. Also, a huge thanks to everyone who came around for part one, I hope you guys get to enjoy reading this just as much I enjoyed writing it.

Argh… Monday.

Internship hunt was hell. There was no other way to spin that wheel. You knew it’d be incredibly hard, but not this hard.

Mondays were cursed days, but to know that not only cursed, they’d also start with terrible interviews — plural — was not in your bingo card for this week. Between  oh, you just started criminal law I this semester? and we will let you know laid the crumbling sounds of your utmost despair of knowing full well you were in for a ride for those next few days.

Well, if only daydreaming about him could save you.

It didn’t, though.

Unfortunately.

You arrived at the campus cafeteria where you were supposed to meet Nobara. Even on a fairly uncomfortable chair, she slouched nearly enough to slide down onto the ground like a rag doll, and it didn’t take you much to realize these past few days were throwing her through the wringer too.

“You look like death,” you joked as you pulled your chair to sit with her, putting your tuna sandwich and can of soda over the table.

“And you look like… like… hmph,” she scoffed while rolling her eyes and propping herself back up again.

“No snarky comeback? Are you that tired?” 

“Leave me alone,” she replied, and apparently, she really wasn’t in the mood for playful banter. You took a bite out of your sandwich, pondering if you should ask her about it, but she beat you to it. “Why is getting internships this early in college is so damn hard?”

“Apparently, places don’t trust complete newbies or youngsters,” you noted, “and they want someone who has already studied all the necessary subjects prior to hiring. Also, people with prior experience are preferred.” 

“Yet these are internship opportunities! Aren’t interns supposed to be newbies who are going to learn from the experience they’ll get through the internship?” Nobara irritatedly inquired, her implied commentary more a complaint than a question. You nodded.

“Absolutely. It makes no sense, it’s like they’re just trying to hire a junior lawyer with less rights and a lower pay rate,” you churned out through your mouthful of tuna and mayonnaise, “now that I think about it, it’s probably that, actually.” 

“I can’t go back home! I mean, I made it all the way here. If I had to go back I would never get over this. I need some money, and I need some money soon, otherwise this will all just have been a waste of my time. I should just get a part time job already instead of insisting in starting my internship as fast as possible.” 

Nobara covered her face, and she sounded genuinely upset. You paused your munching for a bit, and after washing it all down with a few gulps of soda, you leaned towards her, pulling her hands from her face.

“Hey, Nobara, we’re not letting that happen, okay? Neither me, Maki, Yuuji or Megumi.” you offered in an attempt to comfort her. She let you peel her palms away, and gazed at you in a mixture of frustration and anger, which softly subsided after your comment. You decided to push your luck, just a bit. “We can refugee you in Megumi’s car. We’ll get you a hammer so you can hit passerbies for shits and giggles to let some collegiate steam out.” 

Consternated, she shook your hands off of her while you chuckled. She made her best effort to still look pissed, but you noticed a tiny smile forming on the edges of her mouth.

“That’s a shit plan, but I’ll take you up on that hammer offer,” she said, and you smiled at her, a gesture she finally reciprocated.

“I’d expect no less from you. So, tell me, in which area are you looking for internships? Fashion law?” 

“Nope, entertainment.” Nobara picked your half eaten sandwich in her hands and took a bite before you could protest. “Maki had told me it was easier to get internships in entertainment law to garner some experience for a future in fashion law, but honestly? I’m skeptical now.” 

“There might be some openings soon. Have you tried Professor Gojo’s firm? It’s the same as Professor Nanami’s, isn’t it? I mean, that giant firm with dozens of departments and that nearly every teacher at our college seems to work for.” You stretched your hand to get your sandwich back, but she slapped you away. “Hey!” 

“I need it more than you, I’m sad!” 

“I’m sad too! I had four terrible internship interviews today, give it back!” 

You both entered a silly slapping match, and the few people walking past the table would look away nervously in fear of getting dragged into the middle of whatever war was going on over a cheap cafeteria tuna sandwich.

“You were having interviews today too?! How come you never told me?! I’m gonna eat your food for not telling me stuff, you’ve been weird ever since that party that you went off for a smoke and dipped!” She took another humongous bite and you jumped over the table, finally snatching whatever remained of your food out of her hands.

“I haven’t been weird!” you had, “and yes, I did. I am interviewing for internship openings in criminal law, but… well, you’ve been through that these days yourself. You know the drill.” 

She grunted with tuna smeared around her mouth, trying to reach for the rest of your sandwich, and it was your turn to slap her.

“Stop it, Nobara. Quit being so stingy and buy one for yourself!” 

“Not when I can eat your food for free,” she joked while taking a big gulp from your soda can, and you sighed, which only gave her a shit eating grin. “Did you interview for that spot they announced today?” 

“What? What opening?”

“I just saw it, there was a new flyer on the main hall board. It’s an internship for criminal law, apparently under the guidance of Professor Geto,” Nobara said while shrugging. “Apparently the huge firm now has a criminal law department too. It was announced last week or so.” 

“Did it say up until when they were taking applications?” 

***

Each and every tendon in your body tensed as you sat with the perfect lady-like crossed ankles at the 45º angle under your second-hand suit. The meeting room was, for the lack of a better word, mighty, having an entire glass wall peering into the rest of the office, and towered over you high enough to have you feeling like a tiny speck of dust humbly drifting its way over the clearly expensive brown, leather couch. A few people walked by as you waited, and the mahogany table seemed big enough to fit three people. It was probably worth your entire year’s tuition, and you wondered if the ceiling height really needed to be tailored for elves. Or ents. Tree people, perhaps.

The firm’s name hung high right in front of you, the logo and letters made out of stainless steel illuminated by LEDs behind it. Opulence wasn’t a big enough word to describe that pompous display of corporate wealth.

You were fished out of your rags to riches daydreams by the pivoting door opening, figuring it was your interviewer for the position. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the already well-known foxy-eyed, long haired Professor to come in, but a much more stoic individual with the polar opposite for a hair, not only in length but in color too. You already knew him from afar, as your commercial law Professor. He carried himself in a dignified manner, and upon further inspection, not only was his navy blue suit absolutely pristine, he also didn’t have a single hair strand out of place. You got up to greet him, bowing respectfully, and he returned the gesture.

“Good afternoon, Mrs.,” he said as he sat down on his chair across from you, “my name is Nanami Kento and I’ll be responsible for your interview today.”

You introduced yourself, and remarked, “apologies, but I thought Prof- I mean, Mr. Geto would be the one responsible for this interview today.”

 “As it stands currently, the criminal law department is my responsibility,” Nanami clarified, “so I decided I’d be the one responsible for interviewing our future team. I currently work in our corporate law department.”

You acquiesced with a professional smile. Something about how every tiny detail in him was on point gave you enough leads to conclude that of course this man took it upon himself to be the one responsible for the interviews.

“I’ve read in your resume that you are currently undertaking criminal law I and criminal procedure law I,” Nanami said as he held your resume in his hand, glancing at you and then at the paper, “which isn’t ideal for an intern entering a newly built department.”

Harsh enough?

You readjusted yourself on your chair before speaking.

“Yes, I am.”

He hummed quietly and pulled another paper sheet from his briefcase, and even if his facial expression was perfectly collected, something about how the edges of his lips curled gave away that he was less than happy about whatever was written on it.

“Our HR insisted I should bring this questionnaire with me today, so that I could ask you this list of questions as part of our interview,” he stated, his words followed by a quiet sigh. Nanami then proceeded to tilt the paper towards him and took a moment before proceeding. “Tell me more about yourself in three… captivating anecdotes.”

His voice sounded robotic, as if he was feigning not to loathe the question at hand, and deep down, you did find it amusing. Not enough to distract yourself from the fact that you were usually horrible at interviews altogether, though.

“I’m currently in my late twenties. I started law school last year, and worked during my early twenties to save money for tuition. I’m really passionate about criminal law, that is why I applied.”

Oh, God. What was that?

Well, you sounded robotic too, listing off obvious factualities as if providing a recipe’s ingredients. Both of you stared at each other in silence, wondering if that was what this question was supposed to infer, and it took the two of you so long to speak up again that it became uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, Nanami unconsciously loosened his tie — barely — before continuing.

Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable.

“What…” he paused for a moment, and seemed to be biting down a discontented sigh, “animal would you be?” His gaze quickly darted down the sheet of paper, and his displeasure was palpable. For someone with such a straight face, his eyes were very telling.

What are these questions? Are we a hip tech company? Nanami thought to himself, wondering if he should make a new list to leave at HR. He was quick to discard the thought once he realized that meant he’d be telling other people how to do their jobs, something he did enough of already.

You didn’t quite know what the hell to answer.

“I… don’t know? I haven’t really thought about that in my life? A cat, perhaps?”

“I haven’t thought about that either, don’t worry, that’s unimportant. Let’s move on to the next question. How…” Nanami lifted an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to tell he was absolutely consternated, “many basketballs can fit inside a bus?”

“… Huh?”

Is this serious?

“I apologize, I believe there must have been some sort of mix-up at the HR, let me…”

Nanami was interrupted by three knocks on the glass wall. You both turned your heads to see Professor Gojo pointing at something — the paper Nanami held in his hands — while subsequently making a thumbs up, a wide grin smeared all over his face.

Without uttering a word nor missing a beat, Nanami got up, walked towards the glass and pulled on something you hadn’t yet noticed. Immediately, blinds slowly descended in front of the glass wall, and Nanami calmly walked his way back to his chair as Gojo’s face tried to keep peering inside the meeting room, descending alongside the rim of the blinds. He kept plastering his hands over the glass like a mimic.

A faint pained moan and a thud echoed once the blinds were about a foot away from reaching the floor.

“Is everything okay?” you inquired, pointing at Gojo’s direction.

“Ignore that.”

That wasn’t a request. You nodded. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect. Let’s also ignore this for a while,” Nanami remarked while putting the sheet of questions aside with his fingertips as if it was radioactive. “Let’s try something else.”

Nanami had this feeling — a familiar one — that he’d be able to pry from you what he needed to know if he went about this interview in a more practical fashion. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’m going to describe a hypothetical scenario, and I want you to debate it with me,” he stated.

“Okay.”

“A client comes to this office being investigated of homicide and he wants to hire the firm to represent them in Court. They intend to plead not guilty.” you nodded, and Nanami continued, “The victim was shot, but there was no gun to be found in the crime scene. However, the client was the only person in the vicinity apart from the victim’s body. The client’s clothes — a long sleeved shirt and jeans — are evidence that has been collected at the crime scene, but no forensics were requested for it by the prosecution. When questioned in their first meeting, the client is adamant that they did not commit the crime. The attorney needs to decide which path to take regarding evidence they’ll request or submit. Now, I ask you, which type of evidence would the attorney request if the client is truly innocent?”

You took a deep breath while mentally going over the hypothetical scenario Nanami had just relayed, and considering all he mentioned, there was only one possibility.

“If my client was truly innocent, I’d ask for forensic evidence on their clothes. Guns leave gunpowder vestiges on things like clothes, so if this person didn’t actually pull the trigger, there should be no gunpowder on their sleeves.”

Nanami acquiesced, but remained silent. 

Ok, this is not the only thing he wants to know.

“Also… I’d tell exactly that to the client.”

Nanami’s face remained completely expressionless, but something about how he tilted his head less than an inch gave you the feeling that he seemed pleased with your answer.

“And why would you do that?”

“We need to work with accurate information. If the client was lying, and we submitted a request for that evidence — forensics on their clothes — we’d be tanking their defense. They need to know what we’ll be submitting as evidence and why. I believe telling that to our client would be enough to sway them into telling us the truth,” you sighed, before concluding, “people lie. Even when they shouldn’t.”

Nanami silently picked your resume back into his hands, and seemed to scan it quickly with his eyes. You knew your chances were slim, considering you had just started Criminal Law that very semester, something he didn’t fail to notice.

After a minute, he spoke again.

“Would you be willing to use some of your spare time to study topics you might not have seen yet in criminal law?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest. This was it.

Here goes nothing.

“Then, it’s settled. Can you start on Monday?”

***

This wasn’t Higuruma’s usual go-to wish when he found himself behind the Passo’s wheel, but truth of the matter was, he hoped more than anything for his car to breakdown before he got to his destination. It wasn’t something completely out of the question considering his car’s track record, but as if some destiny’s mockery had been bestowed upon him that morning, even the clack-clack-clacks he was already used to hear for the past three months were gone. As Murphy’s Law would have it, the Passo glided over the asphalt like butter. 

“Of course you won’t fail me when I need you to, you unreliable piece of-”he muttered to himself under a discontented huff.

Put upon wasn’t strong enough to convey how Higuruma was feeling, his knuckle-white grip around the steering wheel being enough to give him a sharp pain in his palms that would surely follow him for the next few hours. In a sense, he had been knuckle-white tense ever since that morning, thinking about this endeavor he was kicking himself to push through. It was the nth time he’d tried to make that visit over the past year, one that he dreaded with each and every fiber of his being. 

The Professor eyed his passenger’s seat for a second, his gaze lingering on the plastic bag he carried with him that day. Inside, there were a bottle of Kirin, an incense, and a single sunflower. The flower was definitely too long to fit properly inside the bag, and it’s head peeped though the opening, yellow petals flickering while the car moved, every ridge on the road seemingly making it jump further and further out of its container.

With one hand on the wheel, and the other reaching out, he tried shoving the sunflower back into the bag, and in between eyeing the bag, then the road, picking the flower, pushing it, the bag sliding off the seat, loud news coming on the radio, Higuruma getting startled, his glasses slipping down his nose bridge, him pushing them back in place with his shoulder, tires screeching, a car horn, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, Higuruma came to the sensible conclusion that he should, as any responsible adult would, take a break.

I need a smoke.

Who he was visiting was definitely not going anywhere.

Checking where he was, Higuruma noticed a cafe nearby, and as fate would have it, there was a single parking spot right in front of it. He maneuvered the Passo, and the car fit neatly in between the white lines. Higuruma pulled his sunflower shawl — this time, not caught under any death trap, but laid over his back seat  alongside your scarf —, threw it around his neck and got out. He took a moment to stretch his fingers in the cold air, his breath clouding in front of his mouth, and tapped around his coat to take his wallet, finally inserting some coins into the park meter and crossing the guardrail by the sidewalk. 

He’d have exactly thirty minutes to get his shit together.

The cafe was warm, inviting, and strangely familiar, its orange light almost emanating the smell of coffee beans, croissants and decadent redemption for weary travelers. The store front had a glass display through which he saw an assortment of sweet and salty baked goods. Higuruma would probably pick one of those to eat — the greasiest one, if possible —, had he not been carrying a rock in place of his stomach for the past few hours.

With his resolution waning, he mindlessly took a step back while peeping, and sighed, his tired sigh weighing on his body deciding for him that an espresso was probably the way to go.

Stepping inside, Higuruma paid no mind to whatever was around him, and waited for his turn in line to order his drink. Across from him, you nearly choked, half a donut shoved into your powdered-sugar smeared mouth, nearly spilling your own coffee over your second-hand suit.

After your interview, you thought it’d be a good idea to have a snack, and made your way inside the closest, warmest, coziest cafe you found, which was across the firm. 

At that moment, you found yourself in a cliché adult life predicament — you just saw someone you knew, but they didn’t see you. Should you go over to greet them? Should you not? Would simply leaving be rude? Should you go actually talk to the man you definitely had — and shouldn’t have — a crush on?

You clutched your coffee harder as the thoughts flew around in your mind, as second nature at this point to avoid giving him another beverage shower.

After some quick consideration, you decided you would at least say hello, after all, it was the polite thing to do. You shoved the rest of your food into your mouth, washed it all down with the rest of your coffee, haphazardly cleaned around your mouth with a napkin and slowly walked towards him, stopping a few feet away. Somehow, he still hadn’t seen you, apparently too immersed in thought.

That was when you noticed a shawl around his neck.

It was pretty damn ugly.

“Professor, hi!” you greeted, and Higuruma got yanked out of whatever daydreams — or waking nightmares — he had been simmering in while waiting in line.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to meet anyone here,” Higuruma replied, “I just stopped by for a snack.”

“Oh, nice. Their coffee is pretty good,” you said, “I got the espresso.”

“And… I hope that you’re finished already? With your coffee, I mean.” he asked while checking your hands, his usually unaffected tone slightly playful, earning him a chuckle from you.

“Rest assured, I’m not assaulting you nor your ugly shawl with my coffee,” you quipped, but his eyes only widened. His owlish eyes blinked once, and then twice, in absolute silence.

That was when you realized.

Oh. I said that out loud.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Awfully hypocritical of both of us, huh?” he noted, with a discreet smile pulling on his lips. 

Relieved, realizing he hadn’t taken offense, you sheepishly returned his smile, “I guess so. I don’t think I’ll get to keep being hypocritical about our ugly scarfs, though. I can’t seem to find mine, it’s been gone ever since that party.”

It was like a light bulb went on in Higuruma’s mind, and he cleared his throat before saying, “well, I may just prove you wrong. Follow me.”

Not fully understanding what he meant by that, you stood by him while he paid for his coffee, got it and walked outside. The cold winter breeze prickled your cheeks and your uncovered neck like hair-thin razor blades, and you followed Higuruma towards a car that wasn’t all that strange to you. Upon further inspection, you noticed that it was indeed his car, the old navy blue beat up thing you used as a shield for the wind during that night when you tried and failed at least half a dozen times to light a cigarette.

And then met him, and gave him a vodka scare.

And helped patting him dry with your-

“Here,” he called out, opening the door to the back seat. Sure enough, you saw that red, frizzly old thing tangled up in a ball.

“My scarf!” you reached inside and took it out, instantly throwing it around your neck. Higuruma noticed how you were genuinely pleased to have finally found it, and thought to himself that he’d most likely feel the same way if he ever lost and found his beat up, old shawl. 

It was just one of those things imbued with a sense of history and familiarity that only beat up, old tokens from days past had.

“Thank you,” you whispered, while sliding your fingers through the worn out cotton. “It was a gift. I might complain about it more often than not, but-”

“But it’s an important part of your life,” he replied, and you both glanced at each other while you nodded.

“Yes. Something like that. It’s my favorite curse to carry around while complaining about it, you know?” you mused, adjusting it around your neck and gratefully welcoming the warmth it brought around your neck. 

“I think I do,” he answered finally, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Let me repay you,” you offered. “Can I offer you a snack, or anything? Perhaps a smoke?”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer,” he replied, and you pulled your pack out of your coat. Giving it a few taps, a cigarette popped up, and you took it in your lips, pulling another one and handing it to him.

Against his better judgement, Higuruma was slightly disappointed, and for a second, felt like kicking himself over it.

Idiot, you can’t seriously be expecting her to light a cigarette for me every time she offers you a smoke. Actually, I shouldn’t expect that at all.

 Against his will, Higuruma felt his cheeks warming up, and he tried his best to dive his face into his shawl while politely took the cigarette off your hands. You didn’t notice his moves and offered him your lighter — the same yellow, disposable one he had given you days ago. He picked it up, lit his cigarette and returned it.

“I see you still have it,” Higuruma noted, smiling gently, and you acquiesced.

“It has been my faithful companion for these past few weeks. I’m just glad I haven’t lost it like I lost my scarf,” you said before chuckling.

Higuruma leaned over the guardrail with his elbows, finally relaxing after… God knows how long. Slowly, he seemed to be getting lost in thought, and you seized the opportunity to better look at his shawl.  It had a sunflower pattern that went in a straight line right in front of it.

Still looking around as he stewed in his silent contemplations, you noticed there was a bag laying on top of his passenger’s seat. Peeping through it, stood a single sunflower, and what seemed to be the top of a Kirin bottle.

A sunflower man, hm?

The thought amused you as the corners of your mouth perked up in a gleeful smile, but you were quickly pulled out from it.

“Do you work nearby?” he asked, while taking a drag from his cigarette. “This is far from campus.”

“No. I mean, not yet. I was just… chasing my dreams,” you remarked, puffing some smoke. “What about you, Professor?”

Higuruma chuckled softly.

“I was being haunted by mine.”

You must’ve looked puzzled, because he quickly amended, “I was just on my way to visit someone and took a break for some coffee, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see,” you replied, realizing you were probably getting in his way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your appointment. I-”

“It’s okay, there’s no one waiting for me. Or so I like to think.”

That comment left you with more questions than answers.

“Apologies. I don’t mean to keep you from going about the rest of your day too,” he bid behind a curtain of smoke, “and thank you for the cigarette. I really needed it.”

With your final puffs, you put your cigarette out and smiled at Higuruma.

“It’s okay, Professor. I should really get going, though. We are, indeed, far from campus and I’d like to get to my dorm before it’s dark.”

With a bow, you walked away, leaving Higuruma to his own devices. He sighed, alone with himself and his thoughts once again, turning his attention once more to the bag he had inside his car.

“Hiromi,” a familiar voice called out. Higuruma turned around, only to be met by Nanami, who had a indecipherable expression on his face.

Minutes before, Nanami decided to visit the nearby cafe and check if they had his favorite casse croûte that day. He wouldn’t mind getting a croissant, though.

 Upon stepping outside his building with dreams of pastries swirling around his overworked mind, he noticed you and Higuruma outside the cafe, and figured that was the perfect opportunity to approach you both and introduce you as the new intern for the criminal law department. It was just a matter of time before Higuruma accepted his offer, as Nanami thought, and you’d be both working together. However, before he could, Nanami noticed you and Higuruma were chatting, and not only that, but you approached Higuruma’s car and got something — apparently belonging to you — from his back seat. The ugliest red scarf Nanami had ever seen.

… What?

Nanami then remembered that you were a student on the very same university he tended to.

The same one in which Higuruma was a teacher too.

Why does Hiromi have things belonging to a student in the backseat of his car, of all places?  

Nanami was at a loss for words, and faltered for a few moments, wondering how he should ask Hiromi about this. That is, if he even should ask Hiromi about anything at all. Nanami decided to watch from afar, and something about the way Higuruma was carrying himself bothered Nanami.

He had only seen his best friend behaving like that in very specific scenarios, ones in which Hiromi definitely shouldn’t be interacting with a student of his.

After you left, Kento finally walked towards Hiromi, still uncertain if he should question his friend about the nature of your relationship with him. He could be imagining things.

But something was definitely disturbing him, he was sure of it. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“Kento, hi! Oh… I had forgotten, your firm is nearby, isn’t it?” Hiromi asked while looking around. “Sorry, I always seem to forget where it is. That explains why this cafe felt so familiar. Care for a smoke?”

“No.”

“You haven’t smoked with me in a long time,” Higuruma offered, pulling his own cigarette pack from his coat’s inner pocket. 

“I quit years ago,” Nanami reminded him, trying to put an end to this conversation detour.

“You still smoke on special occasions,” Higuruma offered, “eh, I wish I had your resolve.”

“You do, you just fail to direct it at things that will benefit you in the long run.”

“Just my little human shortcoming, I guess,” Higuruma finally replied, sparing Nanami a soft smile. He walked towards his car while unlocking it, “Let’s have something to eat, the coffee opened up my appetite. I just need to get more coins in case I end up going over the meter’s time limit, hold on.”

“Hiromi,” Nanami said once again, his tone graver than usual. That caught Higuruma’s attention.

“Hm, is everything okay?” Higuruma asked while leaning into his car.

Before Nanami could go on with his planned line of inquiry, he noticed what was over passenger’s seat. Especially the sunflower.

“Are you at it again?” Nanami asked, gesturing with his head towards it.

“Ah, you saw it…” Higuruma commented, as if he was a child being caught red handed while making a mess out of the house. “Well, yes. I’m trying to, and failing at it once again.”

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” Kento offered, while pulling some change from his pocket. “I have coins, we’ll be fine. Let me get you a snack, this cafe has the best casse croute around.”

“I do have to go, though,” Higuruma closed the door and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “I should, at least.”

Higuruma’s earlier energy seemed to wane ever so slightly, his shoulders falling while he slouched, unconsciously making himself smaller. 

“I don’t think I’ll manage to do it today, either,” he finally said, his eyes low on his feet, and his voice barely above a whisper.

Assessing the situation, it was clear that Higuruma was in no way in the right mindset to have that conversation regarding you, so Nanami put a mental note on it to ask about it at a later time. He stepped beside Hiromi and put a hand gently on his shoulder, sighing.

“Is it low tar?” Nanami questioned, clearing his throat to disguise his displeasure.

“Hm, what?”

“Your cigarette. Is it low tar?”

Higuruma huffed, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he said, “yes, yes it is.”

In a smooth motion, Higuruma pulled his pack back out of his coat and took two cigarettes out of it, handing one to Nanami along with a lighter. With the disposition of a man ready to face the electric chair, Kento pursed his lips around the cigarette, and lit it, only to be thrown in a coughing fit moments later.

“How the mighty do fall,” Higuruma noted with a discreet smirk on his lips, “you used to smoke more than me.”

“Shut up,” Nanami managed to churn out in between coughs, “this brand is awful.”

His friend chuckled while taking one long drag from his cigarette.

“Hey, Kento.”

“What?” Nanami considered tossing the cigarette as far as he could, but tried his best to survive it, even if just for Hiromi’s benefit.

“Is that offer still on the table? To…” Hiromi paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “hm, work in your firm?”

Managing to get his throat and lungs under control, Nanami glanced at Hiromi, knowing full well that good things came to those who wait.

Just like he had.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Hi, did you know I like to shamelessly plug people's work? No? So, yeah. I love doing that.

I got this STUNNING commission from @radish-breath and I have no shame to admit that I scrumpt a scream never screamt before when I got this 😭💜 I think you should go check out her work if you still haven't, lots of great sfw and nsfw pieces (all truly delectable 🤌) - Twitter | Patreon | Carrd.

Rad, once again (you already listened to me screeching like a banshee and ugly crying over it, lol), thank you very much for this amazing piece. It is beyond my wildest dreams alsdjasldkj

-

Tag list (updated):

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @redlikerozez @killerplink

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @cmdrfupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider @howmanytimesamigoingtotrythis

@ohhheymessa @bigbaddulce @actuallysaiyan @s-witch-bitch @yeonjunarchives

@soft--cherry @quinnyundertow @traffi @shibataimu @shimadalluvia

[aventurineswife]

Can I ask for aventurine with an s/o who looks really giddy and excited except they're actually really nervous and depressive inside to the point they randomly stop acting happy one day and tell Aventurine that he can break up with them anytime he wants since they don't feel sufficient for him? Like they don't think they can compete with the pretty ladies he must see at the casino?-

“You're Everything”

Summary: Aventurine has always been able to read people, but the one person he can't quite figure out is you, his partner. Though outwardly cheerful, you've been hiding insecurities beneath your bright demeanor. One evening, during a quiet moment at home, your walls finally come down as you confess your self-doubt, feeling unworthy of Aventurine’s affection. This revelation shatters the illusion that everything is fine, and Aventurine takes the opportunity to reassure you of your worth.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Romance, Emotional Support, Insecurity, Reassurance, Vulnerability, Tender Moments, Established Relationship, Confessions, Trust.

Warnings: Mild emotional distress, Insecurity/confidence issues, Mild mentions of self-doubt.

A/N: shit why does that sound like me...? 😕💔

Aventurine had always been able to read people, to sense when something wasn’t quite right, when the masks people wore didn’t match the truth lurking beneath. But there was something about you—about how you always wore that giddy, almost dizzying smile—that kept him second-guessing himself. You never seemed to show your hand, always too busy hiding your true feelings behind that infectious energy.

It had taken time, but over the months of your relationship, he’d come to know you better, catching the subtle hints when your laughter wasn’t quite as bright or your movements just a little too stiff. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t worry—his strategic mind always assumed something was amiss, but you had become his anchor. He’d convinced himself that he didn’t need to dig deeper, that everything was fine as long as you looked happy. But deep down, that little seed of doubt always lingered, nestled in the back of his mind.

And that day... that day it all came crashing down.

It started with a quiet evening at home. The two of you had shared a meal, laughed about something trivial, and as always, you had worn that bubbly, almost too-exuberant smile. But there was a shift, a subtle drop in the energy that only someone who had spent so much time with you would notice. The tension in your shoulders, the way your eyes darted away when he met your gaze—it was like a veil had dropped, leaving a raw vulnerability behind.

You didn’t say anything at first, as if waiting for him to notice, to say something. But then, just as he was about to speak, you broke the silence.

"I don't think I'm good enough for you." you muttered, voice strained. Your hands trembled slightly, though you tried to keep them hidden in your lap.

Aventurine’s heart twisted. The moment you said those words, the mask shattered, and the heavy truth hit him. You hadn’t been your usual self—hadn't been genuinely happy—and he knew it was time to uncover the secret you’d been holding in.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, studying you carefully. “What do you mean by that?” His tone was soft, but there was a depth of concern behind it.

You swallowed, trying to compose yourself, but the words kept slipping out in a rush. "I—I don’t know, I just feel... like you could do so much better. I see how you are at the casino, surrounded by all those beautiful, confident women, and I... I can’t compete with them. I don’t even feel like I’m enough for you. You can... break up with me anytime you want. I wouldn't blame you."

The words hit Aventurine like a sucker punch. He froze for a moment, his usually steady hand twitching as he fought the urge to reach out and pull you into his arms. But instead, he stayed where he was, keeping his distance, allowing the weight of your words to settle between the two of you.

His gaze softened, his eyes fixing on you with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “You think I’m with you because of how you compare to others?” he asked, his voice a little more stern than usual. But underneath it was something deeper—something fragile, as if he was trying to keep his own composure intact.

Your head hung low, and you nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know… It just feels like... I’m not enough for someone like you. You deserve someone who can make you happy without all this baggage."

Aventurine let out a small sigh, shaking his head slightly, as if processing the sheer weight of your words. His lips twitched upward into a soft, bittersweet smile, the kind that spoke of knowing something far deeper than surface-level impressions. He stood and walked over to you slowly, his movements calculated, but not with the usual sharpness of someone managing a deal. No, this was different. His steps were careful, as if afraid of shattering the delicate balance between the two of you.

Reaching out, he cupped your chin gently with one hand, lifting your face so you would meet his gaze. "You really think I care about comparing you to other people?" His voice, though steady, held a quiet intensity that resonated through you. "Look at me. Look at me, and understand something."

You blinked up at him, your heart thundering in your chest.

Aventurine exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “What matters to me, what’s always mattered to me, is you. Not the ‘pretty ladies,’ not the ones who look perfect on the outside. I’ve never cared about that. Not when it’s you who can make me laugh when the world feels like it’s closing in. Not when it’s you who makes me feel... human, not just the strategist, not just the Stoneheart. I don’t need anyone else."

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but it only deepened when he continued.

“You think you're not enough, but you're everything. The fact that you’re here, sharing this with me, means more than you can imagine. You want to know why I chose you?” His voice was softer now, coaxing, as if breaking through a dam that had held so much back. "Because you're you. You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. You never have to compete with anyone else, not when I’ve already chosen you."

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t wipe them away. His words felt like a balm to wounds you hadn't realized were so deep.

Aventurine gave you a small, sincere smile, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not going anywhere. And if you ever doubt it again, I’ll remind you. But I’m asking you now, don’t doubt yourself. Not for a second. You’re exactly what I need, exactly what I want.”

The weight that had been crushing your chest seemed to lift, and for the first time in a long while, you breathed a little easier. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh, your lips curving upward despite the wetness still on your cheeks.

Aventurine laughed with you, the sound warm and full of tenderness. “There’s that smile again. I’m never letting go of it.” He wiped a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, his eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite put into words.

In that moment, you understood. You weren’t just his partner. You were his, completely and irrevocably, no matter what the world outside thought or how you felt inside.

And with that, you finally let the real smile break free, one that didn’t feel forced, one that was only for him.

[loonylupinblack3]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: breaking up with Charles to protect your career was the hardest thing you'd ever done, but what if it was all for nothing?

Word count: 1.5k

part 2

Charles stared at you from afar, brown eyes tracing your every movement as you talked to Lando Norris, the first driver for Mclaren. He watched as you laughed, your eyes crinkling and smile widening, looking for all the world like you were genuinely happy.

His body ached for you. He wanted to touch you again, to wrap his arms around your waist, press a kiss to your cheek, feel you lean into him and sigh, that content, dreamy sigh you did whenever he was around.

He wanted to go back to the days where it was hasty kisses in empty rooms, sneaking away at every opportunity, lazy mornings spent together within the confines of hotel rooms. He wanted you back in his arms even if it was behind doors; he didn’t care. He just wanted you.

He looked at you and then he looked at himself, his hands that ached to hold you again but never would. He clenched them into fists, nails digging into his skin as his knuckles turned white, the prickle of pain starting. Charles didn’t mind; he liked it even. It distracted him, made him think about something else for once, instead of you.

Because it was always you

You were trying to ignore Charles to the best of your ability. It was difficult, however, when your body had become so attuned to him, you could feel when he entered a room. It was unfair. You were the one who broke things off, so why were you acting like some wounded animal whenever you saw Charles?

You sat in the driver’s room, a few other drivers occupying the space alongside you, Charles included. He was on the other side of the room though, so you settled for talking to Lando, hoping the Mclaren driver would provide a distraction.

“Did you hear two of the drivers are hooking up?”

If you were drinking water you probably would have choked on it, and even so you still sort of gaped at him, jaw hanging open like an idiot.

“What?” 

Lando grinned at your reaction. “Yeah, some rumour spreading across the engineering crew at Mclaren.”

“Wait, what is this about?” 

You internally groaned as George Russell sat opposite you. You didn’t mind the guy usually, was actually reasonably good friends with him, but everyone knew he had a thing for gossip, and if you wanted something kept secret, well, it was better not to tell George.

And you desperately wanted to keep this a secret.

“Two of the drivers are screwing,” Lando mused. “I wonder who.”

Unable to resist it, you shot a quick glance at Charles, to see if he was listening. He was, and he was staring right at you, eyes sombre but worried. He knew you didn’t want it to get out; that's why you’d broken up in the first place. And even with his obvious displeasure over it he still seemed to care for you.

What a jerk.

You pointedly looked away, feeling guilt and nausea build up inside you. You hadn’t wanted to end things with Charles, but you could tell he was unhappy. He wanted you two to be public, wanted everyone to know you were together. You… couldn’t do that. The standards weren’t the same for a woman in F1, and you weren’t willing to risk your career, even over Charles.

So here you were, both somewhat miserable, with the secret you sacrificed to protect trying to escape anyway.

“Two drivers are hooking up?” Pierre’s curious voice floated through the air.

For fuck’s sake.

You smiled tightly, looking up at the newcomer. “Allegedly. But we don’t know anything for sure.”

Pierre shook his head. “No, no, I think I heard something about this. Someone spotted two drivers using a spare room to.. Well, you know.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Lando whined.

Pierre shrugged, sitting down next to you. “I don’t know. It was maybe two months ago? I didn’t think it was true.”

And the conversation continued, nitpicking each driver’s dating life, trying to figure out which drivers were hooking up. You felt sick, your stomach doing nauseating flips every time they suggested another driver. You could already tell they thought it was you; there weren’t any openly gay drivers on the paddock, so logically that would mean one of them had to be with you, since you were the only female on the grid.

You kept your mouth shut though, offering up no explanation or defence. You just wanted this to be over, the sickening panic clawing at your throat, its nails scratching your back, digging into your stomach, making your head spin.

They couldn’t find out. No one could. You had sacrificed everything to make sure this secret was kept in the dark. You left Charles, left the man who made you feel alive, loved, happy, so that your career could persevere unharmed. It couldn’t have all been for nothing.

You couldn’t have done it all for nothing.

Again, your eyes found Charles, because they always seemed to find him, even when you didn’t mean for them to. He was staring at you, eyes softening. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away for the life of you. Not when he was staring at you with something other than pain or anger or disgust. When he was staring at you like before, glances shared across the room, playful smirks filled with secrets only you two knew. It was like déjà vu, smacking you in the face, your breath leaving your body with a deep whoosh, feeling empty yet full at the same time.

“Y/n?” Lando prodded.

You blinked, finally tearing your gaze away from the Ferrari driver, feeling sick, yet also tingly in your chest, a feeling you thought had long diminished since you and Charles ended.

“What?” you asked distractedly.

Pierre and George shared a look, raised eyebrows, and you narrowed your eyes. 

“Are you dating anyone?” Lando repeated.

Your throat closed up, eyes darting to Charles again. He seemed almost eager to hear your answer, leaning forward slightly, eyes trained on your figure. You looked at him and you saw his pleading gaze, his hopeful posture, like he was waiting for you to say yes, a promise to him that you were still something, that you would be something in the future.

You felt your heart break a little as you looked away, back at Lando.

“No, no I’m not.”

The sound of a chair clattering backwards took your attention, everyone turning to Charles storming out of the room, hands curled into fists. He sent a glance to you, eyes angry, yet just a cover for the hurt underneath that only you seemed to be able to see, before he left, slamming the door shut behind him.

It was silent for a moment after Charles’ sudden departure, no one really sure what to say. You just prayed they didn’t make the connection between why he was angry, and tried to ignore the heavy guilt weighing you down.

“What was that about?” George asked, eyes fixed on you.

Fuck he knew. Or at least knew something.

You swallowed thickly, shrinking under his scrutinising gaze. “I don’t know.”

“He’s been having a hard time lately,” Pierre said quietly. “I think it may have something to do with his dad…. Or Jules. He hasn’t been like this since then.”

The conversation turned towards Charles instead of you, fortunately, but what wasn’t fortunate was the crushing guilt you now felt, feeling as if it was ripping you apart. Were you the reason Charles was hurting this much? For Pierre to compare it to the loss of his father, of Jules… it made you feel shit. So fucking shit. Especially because you’d always slightly regretted the decision of choosing your career over him, because no matter how much you loved driving, it could never give you the same thrill that Charles did.

And to now know he was grieving you? Well, it was safe to say you’d never hated yourself more than right now. Would you go back and change things if you could? You weren’t sure. All you could do to comfort yourself was remembering it was for a reason. To protect your career. It wasn’t all for nothing.

At that moment, your phone gave a little ping as a notification went through. As did Lando’s, and George’s, and Pierre’s.

A strange feeling of dread filled you at the sound, and as you took out your phone, you realised you had a right be dreadful, because one look at the screen was enough to make you want to bolt out the room, the little news bar lighting up your phone like a neon sign screaming, ‘you fucked up’.

Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc previously involved in romantic relationship confirmed

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like there was something heavy sitting on your chest, suffocating you. Everything around you became blurred, irrelevant compared to the big fuck up on your screen. You were distantly aware of Lando’s worried voice, Pierre’s hand on your back.

None of it mattered. All you could think about was Charles. You’d left him, left the life you had with him, ruined your relationship and any shred of happiness between you two to protect your career. Your precious career, like a baby to you, your whole life, the reason you walked away from the possible love of your life. And for what? For fucking nothing.

It was all for nothing.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

So.

Jazz, Danny, and Elle move to Gotham for school. Jazz and Danny both at Gotham University while Elle decides she wants to go to high school.

Elle meets Damian and Jon and they just click. Flash forward a little and Elle is kinda crushing on Damian and Damian is trying to figure out what these feelings are toward his new friend.

The teen awkwardness is peak and the opportunity for cringe is plentiful.

Insert families’ perspective here.

The Bats are suspicious why Damian is coming home late from school sometimes and why he’s acting weird. It’s Dick that gets it out of him first of course and encourages him to bring Elle over sometimes instead of always going over to her apartment. Just-

“Father, may I bring someone over after school?”

“Damian, you don’t have to ask if Jon can come over.”

“He’ll be coming as well.”

Bruce actually looking up from whatever he was working on.

“You’ve made a new friend? Someone other than Jon?”

“That is correct.”

“Who is it?” Bruce asks after some silence.

“Her name is Elle Nightingale. She is in three of my classes.”

Bruce blinks.

“‘She’?”

“Yes. Elle is a girl, obviously. I didn’t realize you were going senile in your old age.”

Cue mass teasing from all of his siblings and even from Bruce about having a crush, especially when they see how he acts around her when she visits with Jon.

They predictably will do a background check on the girl and her family, immediately raising questions. Why was she homeschooled before 10th grade? Why does the eldest sister have custody? Why did they change their last name and move halfway across the country?

Then there are the Nightingales.

When Jazz easily sees the little blushes and the side-eyed glances, she sits Elle down for The Talk much to the horror of the teenager. Other than some supervision, she just gives them small encouraging smiles every once in a while, making them blush even more.

Danny on the other hand is between teasing his little sister and laughing at the young love, and going into protective brother mode and giving Damian subtle threats if he ever hurts his baby sister. He’s actually pretty okay with Damian (the kid seems too old fashioned to pressure Elle anyway) and they surprisingly bond over the most random things like dogs, finding new vegetarian recipes, and different mechanics or weapons Danny tinkers with in his free time.

I just think it would be super cute and funny. Especially when the families meet and it’s kinda chaos.

[asgardiansofthegalaxyvol3]

I was a fool. An absolute bafoon. Deadpool and Wolverine 2: the musical starts with a montage of their daily life to the soundtrack of Accidentally in Love (from shrek) to WADE falling in love with Logan, not the other way around, because honestly who better than Deadpool? He can girlishly kick his feet and smile sweetly to the camera and (badly) play it off when Logan is actually looking at him. And it’s just them being domestic. Logan cooking, Wade sneaking glances throughout the day, can even have them fighting something together. And of course it ends with them platonically sharing a bed and you can see Wade wanting to reach out to Logan but he doesn’t, just goes to sleep instead.

And one way or another they’re fighting some big bad magical being, and honestly Marvel it doesn’t really matter who you pick. All they need is to be able to use magic and get pissed that 1-Wade can’t die and 2- he never shuts the HELL up. And bam, instant curse. The entire world is a musical and Deadpool has to suffer the consequences (being annoyed by the constant noise of everyone singing)

Except he LOVES it. He walks down the street and hears someone singing about cheating on their spouse, someone singing about how they miss their dog at home, and someone getting increasingly angry about traffic through the open window of their car. And the icing on the cake is that his roommate, THE Hugh Jackman is cursed too. Since y’all wanna make him be the Wolverine until he’s 90 you can at least throw him a bone and let him sing again, it’s what he was made to do. And since Ryan can’t/wont/doesn’t like to sing it gives him the opportunity not to, plus it has comedic effect if he’s bland and boring, making comments through everyone’s songs. Social commentary on people’s rhymes/pitch/beats. The potential is limitless. They should also have multiple people who are just genuinely bad singers, because that’s just how the real world works.

And by the third act Wade has had enough of the singing. “Can everyone shut the fuck up for five minutes PLEASE. Not you, Logan, you have the voice of an angel, please keep going.”

And since Disney owns them now they can have a scene of Logan singing ‘i won’t say I’m in Love’ from Hercules with Ellie, Yukio, and Blind Al as the muses because surprise surprise the main story is Wade trying to undo this Musical curse but the subplot is Wade and Logan both being in love with each other but both being too emotionally constipated and unaware to make a move on each other. And you know what, if the power of hand holding and gay love could save the day last time, maybe it can do it again this time. I’m thinking something cheesy like an off key duet between Wade and Logan that ends in a kiss, but I’ve never been great at endings so I’ll leave it up to Ryan.

And bam @vancityreynolds I’ve got the outline of your new movie right here. I’ll accept payment in the form of one meet and greet with you and Hugh where I can take a picture of you guys holding my Toddler so I can frame it, hang it on the wall, and ask her for the rest of her life how she could possibly not remember something that happened when she was under 2 years old.

[moonyasnow]

Seeing Green.

How they react to an S/O who tries to hold back bad jealousy issues

CHARACTERS : Leona, Azul, Kalim

CONTENT : Intense jealousy from Reader, Reader has thoughts of murder (Leona's part), unhealthy behaviors (Leona's part), Reader is implied to be insecure, who am I kidding almost all of them are insecure

Jealousy was an ugly thing, you knew…and even more so within you. It was ugly, and burning, and scared, and desperate, and bloodlust. It teemed within you, coursing through your veins as surely as your blood, seeming to radiate from your painfully throbbing heart and spread like miasma constricting your lungs and out through your nose in heavy, laborious breaths.

Sometimes you were afraid he could smell it on you...

Leona

Leona Kingscholar, the overlooked, never-desired, second prince of the Sunset Savannah was no stranger to jealousy…no, envy was more like it, what he yearned for seemingly always just out of reach no matter how far he extended his hand. But Jealousy and Envy— desire to keep near what is yours, and desire for what someone else's possesses— are two sides to the same coin.

So then, when he saw the signs of jealousy, he instantly recognized it for what it was.

After a summons from his brother and sister-in-law back to the Sunset Savannah for some important international relations event he 'simply couldn't miss!' he dragged you with him as his living emotional support pillow. But as always happened at those events, something he'd grown used to and been expecting, he had 'suitors' crawling all over him.

Second Prince with a bane of a Signature Spell and a bad reputation or no, he was still royalty, and quite handsome. But even if the latter wasn't the case, nothing will ever stop social climbers. He knew none of them could care less about him as a person, only his title, and he had no interest in any of them.

Even though you knew this, the pit of dread in your stomach still made itself known. You didn't know any of the people who came up to the two of you— had no idea if, if given the opportunity, they might actually have any chance of stealing him away from you. But that didn't seem to matter. Because as soon as one of them came up and began to flirt with him, in the open, right next to you, his partner… Your mind roiled and screamed and wanted them dead. You wanted their head on a platter, wanted to see them shoved out a 10-story window, dig your nails into the sides of their face and force them to look at you and tremble while you asked them what they were doing, acting so familiar with your lover as though you weren't even there.

He noticed the shift in energy beside him as quick as it appeared, glancing to the corner of his eye to see you gritting your teeth, taking long, steady breaths and trying with all your might to hide the look of disgust, rage and anguish on your face. He understood instantly, and didn't even try to stop his grin.

To think his little Herbivore, usually so nice and sweet and docile, had such an ugly side to them. One that was just for him. That he alone had the sway to turn an unsure and timid thing like yourself into such a monster. But he couldn't say it was a sight he hated. He was the only this possessiveness of yours was directed toward. He, and no one else, was that special to you. He, and no one else, was desired by you.

He would exploit it. It was for him after all, wasn't it? So that feeling of yours was his to do with as he pleased. He wouldn't go out of his way, of course, who do you take him for? Instead going out of his way not to go out of his way: letting the touch of an overeager suitor linger on his shoulders instead of shrugging them off, returning their gaze for a second too long, pretending he didn't notice you biting your lip harder in distress. The way you clung to him so tightly after you retired to his room for the night, curling your body so closely around him, as though scared he'd disappear if you let go, was too sweet not to. You held him like he was precious. Priceless. More important than anything. It was a feeling he couldn't help but chase after the first time he felt it because of you.

It made him feel so powerful. Satiated something inside him with roots so deep he could never pull it out. But for a moment, this jealousy of yours made him forget it. You recognized his greatness, after all: enough to be scared of him being taken away from you…

…You recognized him.

But…when you woke him up in the middle of the night, crying quietly into his chest, he knew why. He took it too far.

Would he want to be more straightforward with you if he could? Possibly. Was it cruel? Most definitely. But 'honest' and 'nice' were two words that had never been used to describe him. He wasn't capable of that, so why even try? Besides, you knew what you signed up for, being with him.

…At least, he hoped so.

Azul

A youth spent overlooked, insulted, bullied and outcast from the peers one is supposed to be connecting with, for Azul Ashengrotto, resulted in a very low sense of self worth. And with it, a deeply engrained fear that he wasn't good enough to truly keep the things he cherished. At least, not if he acted like himself. While for him, that most often manifested in a fear of you rejecting him; seeing a hint of weakness in him and deciding to 'cut your losses' and run, he was also not a stranger to jealousy.

You wanted to cling to him, be closer to him, hold him in a vice grip and never let go. But you were afraid to… Scared that your hold might be suffocating to him. For while you loved the intelligent, dedicated and hard-working side of him, it was also the one you feared might discard you, write you off a distraction, if he knew of your desperation for him. So then…when you saw Jade and Floyd so seemingly comfortable and easily able to take his attention even from his work, alarm bells rung in your head. You tried to soothe yourself with the fact that it was just because they were childhood friends, but that seemed to have the opposite effect. They were closer to him than you. You feared you would never be that close to him. That if it came to it, he would choose them over you in a heartbeat. It seemed to crush you from the inside out.

But you hid it. Experience had taught you that being clingy and jealous, much less showing others those feelings, never lead to anything good. You swallowed it and put it in a bottle and hoped he would never notice. Hoped you could wait until you were alone to spill your tears.

One day when you came to his office to spend time with him, your time together was briefly interrupted by Jade, coming to deliver papers of some kind. You expected him to leave quickly afterwards, watching and waiting for him to make his exit. But he met your eyes briefly, then began to make small talk with Azul. With the two focused on each other, you, at his side, felt like a fly on the wall. A ghost. A third wheel, even in the presence of your lover. Your jealousy reared its ugly head with a passion. The pressure within you only kept building until Jade had finally left.

It was then that he saw you, almost trembling, trying and failing to hide the tears welling up in your eyes and shifting infinitesimally closer to him, hands twitching to close the distance, breathing like your lungs were filled with stones, yet biting your lip hard in a by-now futile attempt to hide it. At first, he began to panic, mind spinning with thoughts of what he could have done to upset you so. But then it hit him— this only started after your time together was interrupted.

When he realized that, he realized the probable cause for your distress.

You feared losing his attention, losing his love, losing him, didn't you? You were scared someone else would come along and make him forget about you. He understood. Seven, he hated how much he understood… So much that it felt uncomfortable, seeing his own inner ugliness reflected back at him.

Having gathered evidence, he decided to confront you with it in order to ask you about the issue, like a detective would a crime-suspect. He wanted to believe it was because he knew you would lie if asked without proof. But it was just what he knew; his methods of dealing with any and all confrontation having come from a history of needing to appear always calm, detached and in-control.

When he'd confirmed his suspicions and learned of your fear, he feared he might start crying. Wether from sadness that his lover could understand that fear, or from relief at not being the only one.

You expected him to be disgusted with the extent of your jealousy, your urge to be possessive and forbid him to look at anyone but you. But next thing you knew, he, who so often shied away from even your touch, had you wrapped gently in his arms.

From then on he let you act a bit more possessive of him. He knew what would soothe his own anxiety, and hoped that the same might soothe yours. He was still plagued with the dual fear that clinging too much might suffocate you, and that loosening his hold too much might see you slip from his grasp, so he couldn't bring himself to do it. Still, he let you cling to his arm. It made him flush with both smug pride and embarrassment at the same time, having you coiled around his arm in front of others, soothing his own insecurity as much as the twins' teasing tickled his defensive side.

But he still let you.

If he could still find you lovely even with that 'ugly' side to you, he reasoned…then perhaps…just hypothetically…you could see the same in him.

One day, maybe he would show you…

Kalim

Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the richest merchant family in the Scalding Sands, one of the richest families in the world, purely by his parents' design, has never known jealousy. All that he wished for, he got. Knowing the precarious position he was in, that an attempt could be made on his life at any moment, he never took all that he had for granted. He was grateful for it, even though his cheer might not make it readily apparent. Yet as he had never truly lost anything he deeply cherished, he wouldn't be familiar with the feelings that weighed you down.

Though that didn't mean he wouldn't notice if you weren't feeling well. He might not be able to accurately place the reasons behind it, but through experience gained from years and years of playing host at various parties— or perhaps just an older brother's instinct— he always noticed when someone was feeling low.

Kalim had always been a social butterfly, and you knew this well— better than almost anyone, in fact, partly due to that being how you met in the first place. He was mesmerizing, so in his element entertaining people at parties, or just in regular conversation, and seeing him shining so brightly and enjoying each second of life with such a passion only made you fall even deeper for him.

But unlike him, sharing didn't come as naturally to you. No matter how hard you tried to reason with yourself, say that him putting an arm around another's shoulder was only a friendly gesture, that you knew Kalim was just a naturally touchy person and it didn't mean he didn't still consider you his favorite, nothing would soothe the tempest that raged within you. Each of his smiles that you so adored, directed at someone that wasn't you, felt like poison stabbed into your gut. Every time he laughed at a comment or joke made by someone else, the world seemed to drain of color, bit by bit. No matter how much you loved— adored— him, those feelings kept coming back every second he wasn't sitting next to you, holding you, leaning on your shoulder and directing all his focus to you.

It felt inevitable, in your mind, that it would end with you being forgotten in favor of someone else. Someone funnier, someone smarter, someone happier, someone more confident, someone less anxious…someone better.

When you waded too deep into the turbulent waters and risked losing yourself to the whirlwind of your anxious, paranoid thoughts is when he would always find his way back to you again. He could always tell, like some intuitive feeling, that something was bothering you. He might not know why, since you didn't often tell him, but he didn't like seeing you like that: looking so sad and lost. Spending time worrying about what the cause could be would only be taking time away from what was actually important: making you feel better. So he did what he did best.

He came up next to you again, linking his arm through yours and rubbing your foreheads together, beginning to talk your ear off about something or other, having you try more of the feast and telling jokes to make you laugh. Your sweet laugh made his spirits soar even higher than before. And that just made him want to make you happy even more! Like a spiral of happiness.

And when, after everyone had left, you held him tighter, he held back just as tight, loving the heat of your entwined bodies curled up under the covers. You were holding a bit too tightly to be comfortable at times. But every time you recognized that and loosened your hold on him, he squeezed back tighter. It was alright, that's what he wanted to say. It was alright for you to hold him as tight as you needed.

After you eventually fell asleep, he kissed your forehead gently as you slept in his arms. He might not know the reason behind your sadness, but he'd always do whatever he could to make it go away. Nothing brought him greater joy than seeing yours. And the thought that his presence alone could soothe you made him so happy. He couldn't help himself and pressed more and more feather-light kisses all over your face.

He felt like the luckiest man in the world, getting to call you his, and you calling him yours.

Hopefully, you would be forever.

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So! This was my first headcanon post! I uh hope you liked it! Not gonna lie, I'm a liiiittle nervous posting this ; 0 v 0) I guess I'm still not really used to sharing my writing with people haha

[moistvonlipwig]

🔥

kara danvers :)

ok well you and i have discussed this at length so this will not be new to you but imco (in my correct opinion) kara danvers [as portrayed by the cw's supergirl, not necessarily in other versions] is actually pretty lazy, and i would argue this is one of her most central and consistent character traits. and i don't just mean physically lazy, although i should note that per 3.17 "trinity" she canonically Hates Walking and doesn't understand why humans exercise. i mostly mean on an intellectual & moral level.

kara wants to be a reporter, but when she figures this out (because......a pretty lady told her she should do it? ig?), she does not apply to journalism school, or take online classes. instead she is handed a reporter job by her boss (who scrawled 'reporter' on her hilariously terrible resume when they met for reasons known only to her) and from then on proceeds to basically just do whatever she wants and get offended when more seasoned reporters who have gone to journalism school ask her to do basic functions of the job like Acquire Sources and Report On The Facts And Not Just Your Personal Opinions. at no point do we really see her ask her colleagues, even friendly ones like james, for advice or help; instead, advice is something that's imposed upon her by the wicked snapper, who dares to be unimpressed by her uneducated slay. throughout the show, on multiple occasions, the idea of actually Doing Her Job seems to offend her -- lena even calls her out for this explicitly in 3.02 "triggers," but she continues to display this behavior with andrea in s5 & s6. in the finale, when she is promoted to editor-in-chief in an act of blatant cronyism that truthfully should prompt the entire catco staff to quit in protest, it is not on her initiative, nor due to her efforts, nor is it because anything about the position has piqued her interest; it is, again, simply handed to her, and she just accepts.

additionally, we rarely see her express meaningful curiosity about, well, any subject, really -- we know she learned calculus young, but her interest in math and science seems nil; she is deeply naive about the u.s. justice system in s6 in a way that suggests she has never looked into it, though her own mother was a judge on krypton; and a lot of her interests seem very Basic (pizza, potstickers [? why girl.], nsync, the wizard of oz, harry potter), which to be clear is not inherently a sign of intellectual laziness or incuriosity, but it also does nothing to suggest that she is someone with a wide knowledge of food, literature, music, or film.

she also demonstrates what i would argue is a kind of moral laziness, though you could call it an offshoot of her intellectual laziness, in her general lack of real self-reflection about, like, any of her actions. although some of the other characters sometimes bring up how messed-up the DEO is (e.g. james in s1 with the gitmo comparison -- which, CRAZY line to put in your show and then never address, btw), kara herself does not question it (until the Wrong People take over, of course). her rhetoric in early s2 about daxamites suggests that she is quite comfortable believing sweeping generalizations she was taught as a child and has never really sat down to interrogate them, but while mon-el being.....pretty bad but i guess not as bad as his mom? yay? inspires her to stop being bigoted against daxamites specifically, we will later still hear her say that certain species tend to be peaceful or aggressive, etc., with no self-reflection. in 3.05 "damage," when morgan edge tries to make it seem like lena's lead dispersal device that kara activated poisoned children, kara does not take the opportunity to self-reflect on the choice she made and whether it was worth it; instead, her arc for the episode is reacting emotionally to her best buddy feeling guilty (about the thing kara also did. i cannot emphasize that part enough).

i would argue the conclusion she draws in 5.13, too, smacks of this moral laziness; she spends the episode looking for a magic shortcut to not having to feel bad anymore, and when she can't find one, she decides that actually, meh, there was never a perfect way for things to go down, so all that lying wasn't such a big deal and lena should just get over it. kara is dripping with a lot of guilt in 5A, but throughout both 5A and 5B there's very little actual, thoughtful self-reflection on what she did wrong and why, and that carries over into S6 when, after like ten episodes of lena (and also william ig) repeatedly trying to tell her not to play god, she decides in the very penultimate episode to solve her problems by eating the sun, and then when she decides against it partway through doing it, there's again very little self-reflection on her part of why the hell she thought that was a good thing to do. kara's morality, on the whole, seems largely based on (a) alex and (b) vibes, and not so much on any actual thought she's dedicated to the moral questions at hand.

and similarly to when kara is asked to Do Her Damn Job at her place of work -- when kara is challenged on her morality (like when lena challenges her on the kryptonite in s3, or on myriad in 5.17), she acts annoyed at the very idea of having to do the hard work of thinking about the morals she espouses as a superhero. and it doesn't read as someone who has thought very hard about her moral choices and is offended because she believes so strongly that she's right, because we never actually see her thinking hard about these moral choices she makes at all. it reads as someone who hasn't thought about it beyond a very cursory level and is frustrated that she's being asked to. because, again, she's just fundamentally kind of lazy.

and the thing is this might sound like i am dunking on her but actually i think this is a trait that is incredibly funny. my favorite portrayal of supergirl/kara danvers is the one from the children's cartoon dc super hero girls 2019, whose version of kara is ALSO lazy, on top of being an aggressive, quick-to-anger, rude, irresponsible, selfish brat. and she's hilarious in that show, she's one of my favorite characters. another favorite character of mine, also a children's cartoon character, is anne boonchuy from amphibia, whose entire character journey is about learning not to be physically, intellectually, or morally lazy and learning to [school principal voice] Apply Herself instead. it can be incredibly fun to watch characters be lazy and incurious and self-centered, whether they change for the better or not. but it is a bit strange that some people act like kara is this super disciplined person who loves working out and loves learning and reads widely and is curious about everything and self-reflects on her own decisions and how she affects others to the point of obsession. i wonder if part of it is 'femslash same-character syndrome,' where people slap other characters' traits from other popular femslash ships onto each other. because the character i just described is adora from she-ra. who a lot of people think is similar to kara. except no. she's not at all. as evidenced by this whole write-up ☝️ lol. they're just both blonde and for some reason (#blondephobia?) femslash fandoms wanna act like all blonde girlies are the same. but they are not. #wakeupamerica.....

[buckgettingstruck]

here to ask about the camera panning to eddie. give me the freak answer pls

when i saw that shit airing i yelled and spilled wine on my carpet.

like. i feel like this is common sense but i dont know if people realize how intentional each second of a show/movie is. like whether the show is a silly sitcom or a serious drama everything is so intentional and purposeful. of course theres always continuity errors and mistakes that happen when you’re creating a show of that size thats been running for so long but for the most part everything has its intentions. its why you see certain themes come back again and again. im not gonna get into outfit meta or anything like that because its not really my wheelhouse but i did learn a lot about camera techniques and im a writer so. yeah.

shots are one of the most important aspects of a movie or a tv show. they set the mood. close up shots convey intensity and emotion while more wide shots establish a scene etc. they gave us a lot of close up shots of eddie’s face in the kim and eddie scene at the end of 7x09 because it was an intense moment for eddie as a character for example. you have to get the shot right to convey what you want your audience to see yknow.

so. you have the medal ceremony. they couldve done the announcements for these people in literally any order because they fucking wrote the script. they didnt do it alphabetically or anything normal they literally had the trio of triangulated desire standing in the back with buck in the middle AGAIN while chim and hen were being normal and serving cunt up front. and when they were sitting they had buck in the middle again because reasons. then once they got their medals itd pan to their families and significant others clapping. ofc for tommy they pan to buck because thats the person there supporting him. for BUCK they had so many options. they had bobby, his captain that he verbally said was his father figure the next episode, they had maddie, his fucking SISTER AND THE WOMAN WHO RAISED HIM, and they had tommy, the dude he’s dating. instead they pan to eddie.

literally that is the absolute LOUDEST fucking thing the show has done so far in my opinion. they panned to buck for tommy!!! they couldve panned back to buck or done it in a different order if they didnt wanna repeat so they could pan to them for each other!!! but they panned to eddie and the director of photography was even emphasizing that choice on twitter.

the entire bi arc had eddie written all over it. they had so many opportunities to shove their relationship to the side and double down on their friendship but they didnt. instead we had buck tweaking at the gym where we have no idea who eddie was even talking to on that phone, eddie constantly mentioned by buck in a kiss scene with someone else, the line of all time ‘MY attention?’, eddie interrupting the date next episode, buck not even giving a FUCK about the date because he lied to eddie, the shit maddie said that episode about being confused about his feelings, eddie saying nothing is gonna change between them (which. thats a chekov’s gun if ive ever seen one), and all the entire shit with the bachelor party. not even mentioning the implications of the song choice for the karaoke scene that paralleled madney because we didnt get it in the episode. they couldve completely avoided all of that but they didnt and then when buck is dating someone else they dont pan to HIM being happy and supportive for buck, they pan to EDDIE. it feels as if its supposed to remind us what’s actually going on or another attempt to clue us in

also like right after they had the two who were dating acting as acquaintances. and had that guy also kinda put buck’s excitement down at said ceremony. and later in that episode had buck ditch plans with the guy he was dating to make sure eddie was okay. for reasons i guess. so buddie canon or theyre doing a real bad job at getting me to care about bucks actual man