#I’m romanticizing our time together

[butteryunlikelylady]

it was never my life to live and he didn’t fall for the real me… he fell for an accessory and thought he could just change the label while things stayed the same

[lilgynt]

i’m having a fucking day

[starjaeyun]

gatekeeper — tsukishima kei !

— tsukishima assures that he is not embarrassed of dating you, you think otherwise

warning/s : fem! reader, misunderstanding 😁 & a small fight at the beginning, profane language, tinsy bit of angst, fluff & crack from the second half ‘til it ends

note : had this little idea while writing a kageyama drabble so they might be quite similar

“just give up already”

y/n’s tip-toeing came to a stop. seriously? this was the 4th time this week! with an annoyed groan, she turns around, fists clenched, brows furrowed, and it looks as though a tick mark was formed on her forehead. behind her stood her oh so loving boyfriend, tsukishima kei, who somehow always catches her trying to sneak in the volleyball gym.

“oh c’mon kei! why won’t you let me watch your practice?!” tsukishima sighed, “we’ve talked about this” he grumbled, why does she have to be so stubborn?

“don’t talk like those romanticized, toxic boyfriends on wattpad!” y/n hits his arm, which barely does any damage to him, “and don’t act like them as well!”

tsukishima raises a hand to fix his glasses, “are you saying i’m toxic?”

“i never said that! i just said don’t talk and act like—”

“so you’re implying it?”

“well, you’re going to be if you carry on with that bullshit!” tsukishima grows silent and stares at y/n, who had seemed to be reaching the highest point of her annoyed meter, which would then slowly escalate into anger.

after a few seconds of silence, he spoke, “take these, don’t wait for me and go home. cool your head” in each of his hands were his hoodie and an umbrella, which he brought with him on the way to the gym incase it might rain before they’re able to go back to the locker rooms. with y/n giving no sign of taking it, he placed it on her foot and carried on walking past her.

“i don’t understand you” tsukishima comes to a halt, looking back almost immediately upon noticing y/n’s change of tone. crap, was i too harsh?

“why are you acting like that if you’re embarrassed of me?” he couldn’t tell whether she’s sad or angry.

“acting? acting like what? and what do you mean embarrassed?!” his tone immediately gave away his nervousness.

“in school or when you’re with someone else, you avoid and act like you don’t know me but when we’re alone, suddenly you’re taking care of me! make it clear whether you love me or not to save both our time because i am not about to start losing myself for a boy who can’t love me the way i deserve!” it’s clear that she wanted to say more so tsukishima stayed silent. “if you’re going to love me, at least be honest with me! am i embarrassing or not?!”

“of course not!”

“then why?!” it was a miracle that y/n was not crying nor shouting at the moment.

tsukishima fully turns his body this time, “what’s embarrassing is my explanation…” and the mood suddenly lightens.

“TSUKISHIMA, YOU BASTARD!” tanaka and nishinoya’s yelling made tsukishima sigh.

“you call me selfish but keep shimizu-senpai’s sister all to yourself” kageyama grumbles

tsukishima stands still. hands clasped together behind his back and head bowed down. he looks like a child getting a scolding, or how the the freak duo looks whenever daichi catches their slip ups.

nishinoya and tanaka kneels in front of the first year. head bowed down as if they were praising him, and that they are.

“on this day, we honor you. congratulations on getting a shimizu!” they say in unison.

“you’re overreacting” tsukishima simply says.

“nope, i, too, would congratulate you tsukki. no offense, but you’re not exactly the ideal boyfriend” yamaguchi says with a finger under his chin.

“mhm! so you better treat her right tsukishima! she’s like our little sister” sugawara’s smile does not look comforting at all.

“call me if you need help in buying gifts!” daichi volunteers happily.

“and me if you need advice!” asahi adds.

“why are you guys taking my job?” shimizu comments while giggling. “but, i do think that tsukishima is just right for my little sister” she turns to look at her sister who was now playing around with kageyama and hinata, “she’s as chaotic as those two, he’ll be able to handle her. so i trust that i won’t have to worry much?”

“of course” tsukishima didn’t seem like himself at the moment. his eyes seemed to have soften at the sight of his girlfriend. he smiled, though not too obvious.

“why are you smiling like a male lead in a drama?” tanaka teased. and though tsukishima hates expressing his emotions to his teammates, he certainly loves poking their annoyance scale, “because this is what it’s like to love and be loved”

“Why are you making it seem like kiyoko does not love me back! she does love me! right? right?” tanaka gave kiyoko hopeful eyes and received no response aside from her turning around.

“I’m not talking about platonic love”

“WHY YOU—“

“KEI!” apparently, while he successfully annoyed the second year, his girlfriend heard what he said and would definitely never let it go.

“when have you been so sweet?! love and be loved? seriously?!” she bounced up and down, hands on tsukishima’s shoulder for support.

“she’s no different from the freak duo, i’m afraid” sugawara comments and laughs along with the third years.

“but am i really that beautiful that you had to gatekeep me from your entire team?” she laughed, still bouncing, and tsukishima only stood there with his smile never seeming to fade.

“if that were me i’d be receiving his train of insults by now” hinata says, joining the rest of the team as they watched how tsukishima seemed to be a lot softer around y/n.

“you’re such a gatekeeper kei!” she teased, this time, she stopped bouncing and have started poking her boyfriend’s sides.

“that he is! how dare he gatekeep kiyoko-san’s sister?!” tanaka kneeled back down on one knee with a hand on his chest.

nishinoya followed suit, “and what’s annoying is that she reciprocated his love!”

© starjaeyun on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost

[lossisyours]

@taylortruther broke my brain a little with hoax analysis, and it got me thinking of how sweet nothing reminds me a lot of lavender haze in that both of those songs, in retrospect, reframe drastic switches in originally stated plans/intentions and romanticise it.

taylor’s always sung about a desire for marriage: from mary’s song (debut), “take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle / our whole town came and our mamas cried / you said, ‘i do,’ and i did too” to love story (fearless), “he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said / ‘marry me, juliet, you’ll never have to be alone, i love you and that’s all i really know / i talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress / it’s a love story, baby, just say ‘yes’” to speak now the whole damn song to starlight (red), “we could get married, have ten kids and teach ’em how to dream” to how you get the girl (1989), “i want you for worse or for better” to lover’s (title song) bridge’s mimicry of wedding vows to paper rings’ thesis to it’s nice to have a friend (lover), “church bells ring, carry me home / rice on the ground, looks like snow”. only to drop midnights with lavender haze as the first single, the start to the album; an album that bargains a LOT with her discography (and herself). and that doesn’t make lavender haze a lie, necessarily... but it does make it an immensely thought-provoking narrative to switch to.

sweet nothing’s not that different! it was all over fearless (2008) from that initial, youthful romanticism of fearless (title song), “you know i wanna ask you to dance right there / in the middle of the parking lot”, to the spectacular dramatism of love story’s entire genesis/lyric-story, to the cheeky flamboyance of hey stephen and you belong with me. she’s known that she wants fireworks & grand gestures. actions & proof! she missed “screamin’ and fightin’ and kissin’ in the rain” and being “so in love that you act insane”. she herself loves in huge ways, and to cite examples for that would be to quote most of her discography. and she cares about the showing up – that’s why she wrote the moment i knew (red). and that narrative started to morph a little when she met joe; she said as much in miss americana, “i was falling in love with someone who had a wonderfully normal, balanced life. we decided together we wanted our relationship to be private. i was happy. but i wasn’t happy in the way i was trained to be happy. it was happiness without anyone else’s input.” their new beginnings weren’t secret to her, they were sacred. and then she sang, “we still worship this love / even if it’s a false god” and called their love “faithless” in hoax. she took over the role of being the fire to keep his brittle heart warm. she took ownership of being “the liquor in [their] cocktails”. she took the dreaminess & fated-soulmateism of invisible strong (folklore) and made it mastermind (midnights) — which everyone joked about at that time, but now hurts to think about.

there is a pipeline from “all that you ever wanted from me was... nothing” to “and i’m fadin’, thinkin’ 'do something, babe, risk something, babe, say something / 'lose something, babe, risk something / choose something, babe, i got nothing' / 'to believe, unless you’re choosing me” that makes my tummy hurt. how long could they be a sad song? (hoax. the sad song is hoax.)

[cameronspecial]

Loving the Zach stuff so far!!!

Could you maybe do something where yn hates his guts, but he is like in love with her and all her sass?? Then they're forced to go on some school trip together or something, and she realizes she likes him and a cute angry love confession, perhaps???

Danke 🫶🏼💐

Thank You, History Class

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Zach have been running in the same friend group since Freshman year, but it doesn’t mean they necessarily get along. Well, it doesn’t mean that she likes him. His sarcasm and puppy dog vibe annoys her cool and distant personality. He’s always asking her how her day is going and trying to make her laugh with his stupid jokes. Zach, on the other hand, fell for her grumpy soul the moment he set eyes on her. Unlike most people, who don’t bother looking deeper into her personality, Zach could see the soft side that she held within and never let anyone see. He would always catch how she would stand up from her bus seat when she saw an elderly person. She wouldn’t let people around her know it was the reason, but she always did. He saw the little bowl of milk she left outside her house for a cat mother and her kittens. Finally, he saw how sweet she was to children whenever they were around her. 

Zach didn’t want to take a history class and he certainly didn’t feel like going on a field trip to a museum. It all felt very high school to him. The only upside about it: Y/N is also taking the same class. When he saw that he needed a history credit to graduate, he definitely didn’t go looking for what classes she was taking this semester to try and be in the same one. The cost was giving Jason access to his bathroom whenever he wanted, but it was worth it. He knows the field trip isn’t mandatory for any marks, yet he knows Y/N is going to be there. As he heads toward the Victorian house, he finds Y/N out front waiting for the professor to show up. Her clothing consists of black and brown colours as usual. Her hair was held back by a shiny black claw clip. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” he grins, coming to stand beside her. She gives him a side eye, “Could you be more cliche? Try something more original, would ya? I still can’t believe you are taking this class.” He doesn’t let her sour mood dampen his energy. “Come on, you know you like having me with you in this class. The only other people in this class are girls who have a romanticized view of the era, or guys, who have a history stick so far up their ass that they think a history degree will take them far in life,” he notes, turning to look at her. She looks him dead in the eyes, “I’m a history major. And I am neither of those things.” “I know, that’s because you are so much better than them. You are far too smart for them,” he flatters. She shakes her head, turning her attention to the professor who has just arrived, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” The professor leads them into the museum and begins his lecture. After ten minutes of listening to the man speak, both Y/N and Zach realized that coming was a big waste of time. He doesn’t know what he is talking about and Zach can hear Y/N constantly correcting the older man under her breath. 

He leans toward her, making sure his lips are close to her ear. “Wanna go on our own little tour? This man is getting half of this stuff wrong.” She thinks she has lost her mind because this must be the first thing Zach has said that she thought was a good idea. “That actually sounds kind of fun. They have a Victorian fashion exhibit I want to see, but I don’t think Professor Robo over there is going to take us to,” she whispers back. Her hand finds his and she hates to admit she likes the warmth of his in hers. They round the stairs to the exhibit. She looks delighted when she spots the first mannequin with clothes. Her feet find their way beside a girl about six years old, already looking at the dress. The child’s eyes find Y/N’s face and they smile at each other. “You know, this is an 1843 Evening dress. The bodice, the thing around the chest, is low off the shoulders. And they have lots of other skirts underneath to make it poofy,” Y/N softly explains to the little girl. 

They spent around thirty minutes in the small room. Y/N walks around with Willow and Zach, explaining each outfit to them. She is surprised that Zach seemed honestly engaged with what she was saying and would ask thoughtful questions. Eventually, Willow’s mother, an employee, came looking for her and took the girl to lunch. “Do you want to head to lunch?” she asks. He shakes his head, “Actually, I was hoping we could look at the Victorian sports exhibit. I brought some snacks, so if you are hungry, we can share.” He pulls out a bag of cucumbers shaped like hearts. She has to giggle at the sight because big jock Zach MacLaren likes to have his vegetable cut into shapes. 

“What?” he questions in fake offence, holding out the Ziploc to her. She shakes her head with a chuckle, “Nothing, just surprised your cucumbers look like an inaccurate depiction of a human organ.” “They make them taste better. Try,” he says with a shrug. He hands her a slice and listens to the sweet crunch of her biting into the vegetable. “Okay… I must admit it is more fun to eat it like a heart. I can pretend I’m a witch eating people’s hearts,” she agrees. He doesn’t look disturbed by her macabre comments, instead, he pretends to be ripping out his heart as he hands her another slice. She enjoys him playing with her deadly thoughts.

They spent about an hour looking at the different displays, eating his snacks and taking turns reading the display’s blurbs to each other. As they stand on the steps of the museum, Y/N towers over him from the step above. He looks up at her like she hangs the stars in the sky. “I hate to admit that you made this day pretty fun,” she confides. Her hands find their way behind her back, biting her lip as she looks into his eyes. His mouth turns into a crescent moon, “I’m really glad I did. I like spending time with you.” She takes a moment to think and moves her head away in frustration. Not at him, but at the turmoil inside her mind. Why is his charming smile suddenly getting to her? Why does she want to step into his warmth and let his arms bring her in? “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m falling for you, MacLaren. So… would you want to go to dinner? Like on a date,” she confesses with a hint of annoyance in her tone that is just normally there. She is disgusted by the excitement that crosses his face. He gets off the steps, running around the green grass in front of the building. He jumps every so often with a little whoop let out as he does so. 

He rushes back to her, grabbing her around her waist and spinning her around. She finds the sound of her giggles odd but enjoys it nonetheless. “Way to keep a poker face,” she sasses, looking down at him. He doesn’t care though all he wants is a chance to be with her.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[freshlove-sturn]

house on the cape IV

pt 1, pt2, pt3, pt4

a/n: FINALE!!

summary: when the triplets come back home from la, they reunite with their favorite summer tradition, staying in the house on the cape. amidst all of the familiar laughter, and reminiscing on old memories, y/n can’t ignore the feeling stirring in her heart. something that went deeper than friendship. as she grapples with the fact that her feelings for her lifelong best friend, matt, are more than what’s just at the surface, she must learn to navigate and balance the unspoken feelings, and the gut wrenching fear of risking it all.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

nick, chris, and nate had all just left to go pick up food, leaving matt and i by ourselves.

i sit perched on the counter top, matt has his body leaned up against the counter across from me. music plays softly from the tv. it’s nearing midnight, the only light illuminating the room coming from the street lights shining through the windows.

“i’m kinda sad this is our last night.” matt says.

“me too.” i agree. “it’s been so fun.”

i cherish every moment with matt. especially ones like these, where it’s just the two of us. ever since he moved across the country, i realized just how much i took for granted. before he left, i had real interactions to pine over and over romanticize. but now, i just have texts to dissect. and when him and his brothers are back in boston, they want to spend as much time as possible with friends and family, rightfully so. so it’s rare to have matt all to myself like this, even if it were just for a little while.

“whatcha thinkin’ about?” matt’s soft voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

i hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “i’m just gonna miss you.”

“i’m gonna miss you too y/n. a lot. i always do.”

something about the way he added that he “always” misses me makes my heart skip a beat.

“but hey let’s not think about that right now, alright? we’re with each other now and that’s all that matters, right?” he smiles sweetly at me, making it damn near impossible to be upset.

just before i could say anything, the first few notes of “fade into you” by mazzy star play through the speakers of the tv. we immediately look at each other. we coined it as our song years ago, when it played at a family friends wedding, being the very first song we had ever slow danced to. ever since that day, whenever it played while we were together, it was practically a requirement that we dance.

matt smiles cheekily at me, walking toward my spot on counter. he extends his arm, holding his hand out for me to take.

“may i have this dance, m’lady?” he smiles.

“of course.” i take his hand, and he gently helps me off of the counter.

he leads me over to the middle of the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for more light.

“classy.” i giggle, bringing my arms up around his neck. he places his hands on either side of my hips.

the cool air from the fridge contrasts the warmth of his hands, as well as the heat of my cheeks. we begin to sway, our steps falling into pace perfectly. i can almost feel the world around us melt away, leaving us in our own little world, a world where us in this moment is the only thing that matters.

the light from the refrigerator casts a soft halo around our bodies as we moved in sync. matt’s familiar gentle touch feels so different. like there was more to it than just participating in a silly tradition we came up with. as my heart races, i wonder if he can hear it.

i rest my head against matt’s chest, and i soon feel the weight of his chin press against the top of my head. after a few moment, i look up at him. our eyes meet, and for a second i swear i can see a flicker of something more. something that goes deeper than friendship, but then that moment passes just as quickly as it came, and we’re back to being two best friends dancing in the glow of the refrigerator light.

matt gives me a playful smile before intertwining our fingers and spinning me around. the motion slow and tender, as the air brushes across my face in a gentle breeze. while my body twirls, everything around me becomes a soft blur, the one thing remaining the same however was matt’s gaze fixated on me.

when my body stills and we come back to facing each other, my arms find his neck again, and his hands come back to their place on my hips. our laughter fills the room.

“we’re getting prettty good at that if i do say so myself.” matt smiles cheekily.

“i think so too.” i giggle.

our eyes remain on each other, but our faces closer now than they were before. matt’s breath mingling with mine.

time seems like it has halted to a stop. it feels as though matt’s lips have a magnetic pull, every second threatening to close the gap between us. something that i craved, but i could never bring myself to act on.

that’s when the front door opens, forcing us to act casual. my hands drop back to my sides, and matt folds his across his chest as the boys file into the kitchen with pizza boxes.

“why do i feel like we’re interrupting something?” nate questions, looking between the both of us.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

i lie in bed, staring at the ceiling above me. my mind is racing. although the room around me is dark, the thoughts swirling around my head are anything but. keeping me awake. i toss and turn, searching for a comfortable position, wanting nothing more than to sleep. something to turn off my mind. my feeling for matt eating away at me.

i knew i needed to confess my feelings for him before it was too late, but the fear of what might happen if i do keeps me awake.

for years, i’ve teetered the edge of friendship and something more with matt. our every interaction acting as a breeze, threatening to knock me off. threatening my feelings for him to spill out of me in a confession that could potentially ruin everything.

matt is my best friend. he always has been. and risking that was nothing short of terrifying. but the thought of never knowing if we could ever become something is almost scarier. my heart aches with the unspoken words.

a wave of realization and courage crashes over me. i knew my only way to find peace was being honest with myself and matt. i can’t keep living in this abyss torn between hope and fear. the what ifs and buts.

it’s like i lose all control of my body when i stand up from bed and move towards my door. on a mission to be completely honest with matt.

the door handle is cold in my grasp, i pull it open and to my surprise, im met with matt’s blue eyes on the other side.

we stare at each other in shock for a second before matt speaks.

“fuck it.” he says under his breath before speaking again. “look y/n, this has been killing me forever and i- shit. we’ve been friends for so long. you’ve always been my person and ive jusy been too scared to say anything because i didn’t want to lose this with you but i seriously can’t keep it to myself anymore. i love you. and not just as a friend, like im IN love with you y/n. and i have been for so fucking long. i had to tell you because you deserve to know. i completely understand if this is a lot to take in but i-“

“i love you too matt.” i cut him off, looking up at him. a smile tugging at my lips.

i felt a rush of warmth encase my chest. a mix of happiness and disbelief showering over me. was this seriously happening? all those years of hoping, wondering, and longing for this moment— suddenly it all became real.

matt’s lips crash into mine with a sense of pent up desperation. i kiss him back. his lips feeling even better than i had imagined. it felt so natural, so right. this was meant to happen. our lips danced together in a perfect rhythm, smooth and sweet like honey.

matt pulls away for a second. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that” he smiles.

“me too.” i say, trying to catch my breath.

matt peppers my lips in sweet pecks, his hands cupping my cheeks.

“so… what now?” i ask.

“i guess we try this out.” matt’s forehead presses against mine.

“i guess so.” i smile.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

i wake up, one of my legs draped over matt’s, my arm rested on his chest and my head barked in the crook of his arm.

i look up at his sleeping face and smile. i brush his hair out of his face, causing him to wake up.

he smiles down at me. “good morning pretty girl.” his voice tired and gravelly.

i could definitely get used to that nickname.

“morning” i smile back at him.

after a few minutes, we decide to go join everyone else out in the living room.

as soon as we become visible to the 3 of them, their jaws immediately drop.

“no fucking way.” chris says, shocked. looking around at the others and then back to us.

“about fucking time. i didn’t know how much longer i could be the middle man. do you know how hard it is to listen to yall yap about being in love with each other and being scared about it not being reciprocated, knowing full well the other feels the exact same way?” nate asks. causing both of us to smile.

“you have so much explaining to do.” nick tells us, looking back and forth between us.

“i called it. did i not? nick you owe me 50 bucks.” chris makes a forking over motion with his hand.

“no shot you bet on us getting together.” matt shakes his head.

who knew that i would fall in love, and get together with the boy of my dreams all at the same place?

i couldn’t help but smile. i finally had what i’ve wanted and craved more than anything for years.

and it was all thanks to the house on the cape.

✧･: *✧･ﾟ:* the end ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a/n: I HOPE YALL LIKED THIS SERIES!!!

taglist: @ribread03 @billy9669 @lovesturni0l0s @p4lxouterbanks @blablablabla2525 @bbernard-03 @sturniololvrrr @hayhjelmstad15

[unknownperson246]

okayokayokay if you do angst i have a really juicy angst idea

imagine 90s or 2000s Nikki Sixx x reader where Nikki finds out reader has a drug or alcohol issue

Heyyy sorry its late but I hope you enjoy it (disclaimer: I am not trying to romanticize drugs or alcohol in any way people go through so much stuff with it and its very dangerous it’s not romantic it’s hell). I might also make a part two if anyone wants one

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

words: 1,361

warnings: *angst* *mentions of drugs* *mentions of alcohol* *rehab* *usage of drugs* *pregnancy*

You have a heavy addiction to alcohol and drugs and you can’t help but use them to comfort you in all your moments. You are afraid if Nikki finds out he will not want to be around you and he will break up with you. One morning Nikki is looking around all your hiding spaces like under your bed and behind the vanity because of this one used syringe you forgot to throw away and he finds half-empty bottles of Vodka he also finds used syringes that you forgot to dispose of. You see him rummaging through your things as you wake up and he looks at you with a concerned look.

“Babe why? Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you.” Nikki sounds very upset and disappointed with you.

“Look babe I've been through this before I'm taking you to rehab,” He says gently as he walks over to you as you lay on the bed. 

“No I'm not going Nikki I need more” you cry out.

“No, you don't You've had enough I'm only trying to help you, babe,” he says softly

You get up in your silky red nightgown and run to the places where you hide your drugs and grab small bags filled with white powder. You crush it up and put the coke in a line and you snort it. 

Nikki watches and begs for you not to do this to yourself. He knocks on the door so many times that you lose count. He breaks open the door, grabs all of the drugs, and pours them into the sink in front of you. You sob and beg for Nikki to stop.

“No Nikki please don’t do this don’t take my drugs away” you scream violently.

“I can't watch you do this to yourself. You're going to rehab and I will make sure you go”  Nikki says harshly.

After Nikki finds all of the drugs he dumps them all down the toilet and disposes of the needles he finds. You grab at Nikki and try to pull the drugs away from him. 

“Don't you dare Nikki” you say in a firm tone. He pushes you out of his way lightly. 

“Fuck you Nikki fuck this you motherfucker” you yell at him.

“I am only trying to help you Y/N you need to understand. It's for your good.” 

“I called the rehab I'm driving you there tomorrow” 

“Nikki before you take me I need to tell you something,” you say softly. 

“We are going to have a baby,” You say out of the blue.

“Don't lie to me your only making excuses so you don’t have to go to rehab”  Nikki spits out

“I'm not lying” You pull out ultrasound photos to show him. 

“Y/N I’m tired of you not telling me things why didn't you tell me earlier?”  Nikki says disappointed.

Nikki realizes that you have been using alcohol, heroin, and cocaine while you were pregnant with his baby. 

“Y/N you're going you have to go for me for you and our baby.” 

“I'm going to help you pack and get your stuff together” 

You quit trying to fight back and you realize that you could have hurt your baby so you start to grab your clothes and Nikki helps you fold them. Nikki checks your clothes to see if they have smaller bags of drugs in your clothes and does not find anything. Nikki double-checks everything in your clothes there is still nothing. 

Your one suitcase you're bringing is now packed and zipped up and it's in the corner of your guys’s room. 

“Nikki please don't take me to rehab”  you sob. 

Nikki grabs you and holds you to his chest in his arms. Your head is leaning on his chest. You can already feel the withdrawal effects from the heroin you used to take hourly. 

“Hey shhh, It's okay you're going to be okay shhh”

“I need my goddamn heroin Nikki I need it” you sob to him in his arms.

Nikki decides to not respond. He knows how hard it is at first from his own experiences with drugs and alcohol. He decides it best to just be there and support you especially since he found that you were pregnant. He knows it's very hard on you with everything you're going through at the moment. 

Nikki lays you in your guy’s bed. 

“Y/N it's going to be very hard to sleep but try to relax and rest okay?” 

You don't respond as you are mad at Nikki for getting rid of all your drugs.

The next morning arrives and you run to the bathroom puking from morning sickness. Nikki hears you retch and puke in the morning. He goes over to help you. He holds your hair while you throw up and rubs your lower back gently. You finally finish puking and you flush it down the toilet.

“Y/N it's almost time we have to leave get your clothes on and I'll grab your suitcase and put it in the car”  

You take your silky red nightgown off and put on your white bra with matching panties, jeans, and a plain white shirt. You're starting to show a tiny bit. You have no appetite to eat and it is extra-strong today because of the withdrawal of drugs. You walk out of the room and down the stairs to head to the car. Nikki is in the driver's seat ready to go and you get in the passenger seat. Nikki notices that you are starting to show a bit. You notice that Nikki is looking at your stomach. 

“Y/N how far along are you?” Nikki asks gently 

“3 months,” you say quietly as you avoid eye contact with him.

“You kept our baby a secret from me for three months?!” He is full of disappointment.

Nikki does not talk to you for the rest of the car ride. He is mad at you for keeping the baby a secret from him for a long time. You guys arrive at the rehab. You guys walk in together after Nikki grabs your suitcase from the trunk. Nikki talks to the receptionist. They have a nurse with blonde hair to walk you to the room and you and Nikki walk together as you both follow the nurse. You are scared and nervous because it's your first time at rehab. 

“Here’s your room,” the nurse says. 

The nurse starts to walk away and you and Nikki are left in the room alone. 

“Babe I can only stay for a bit they will only let me stay for a little while” 

You don't respond to Nikki's words you are suspiciously quiet. 

“I need to use the bathroom” you are thinking about your escape from this hell. 

You start to walk down the hall and you walk out of the door. Nikki sees you outside the window and you start to walk inside the bush. Nikki was surprised by your behavior he has never seen you this uncooperative. Nikki quickly rushes outside to grab you and he is trying to be careful with you since you're pregnant. 

“Let me go!” you scream at Nikki. 

Nikki holds you bridal style as you fuss in his arms and try to be set free by him. As soon you're inside the room in the facility Nikki puts you on the bed. You start to scream and cry and Nikki has no choice but to call a doctor or a nurse. Nikki calls a nurse and she comes in and tries to talk to you gently but you won't listen. They decide to get everyone out of your room and let you calm down yourself. You feel miserable from everything going on. You are still not calming down and the nurse decides to sedate you. The nurse only uses a little bit as you're a drug addict. You start to calm down as you feel exhausted.

“Nikki” you whimper as you fall asleep. 

Nikki watches you with sad eyes and holds your hand while you are asleep to let you know he is there with you.

[bitchesgetriches]

Take care of your body

Why You Should Take a Break: The Importance of Rest and Relaxation

I Think I Need to Go the Emergency Room?

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money

Your Yearly Free Medical Care Checklist

Ask the Bitches: Ugh, How Do I Build the Habit of Taking Meds?

Blood Money: Menstrual Products for Surviving Your Period While Poor

On Pulling Weeds and Fighting Back: How (and Why) to Protect Abortion Rights

Ask the Bitches: How Can I Survive in an Apartment with No Heat?

Take care of your mind

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

How Mental Health Affects Your Finances

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Protect My Own Mental Health While Still Helping Others?”

Kurt Vonnegut’s Galapagos and Your Big Brain

Everything Is Stressful and I’m Dying: How to Survive a Panic Attack

Stop Recommending Therapy Like It’s a Magic Bean That’ll Grow Me a Beanstalk to Neurotypicaltown

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

Ask the Bitches: I Know How to Struggle and Fight, but I Don’t Know How to Succeed

Ask the Bitches: How Can I Absolve Myself of Financial Guilt Over My Pricey PS4?

The Frugal Introvert’s Guide to the Weekend

Update: I Know How to Struggle and Fight, but I Don’t Know How to Succeed

Take care of your time

Stop Measuring Your Time in Beyoncé Hours

Help! I’m Procrastinating and I Can’t Get Up!

You Won’t Regret Your Frugal 20s

Actually, Fuck Big Goals

How to Insulate Yourself From Advertisements

I’ve Succeeded at Every New Year’s Resolution I’ve Ever Made. Here’s How.

Romanticizing the Side Hustle: When 1 Job Isn’t Enough

8 Free Time Management Systems To Try in the New Year

My 25 Secrets to Successfully Working from Home with ADHD

I Am So Over Productivity Porn

Take care of your career

High School Students Have No Way of Knowing What Career to Choose. Why Do We Make Them Do It Anyway?

The Actually Helpful, Nuanced, Non-Bullshit Way to Choose a Future Career

Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job

Are You Working on the Next Fyre Festival?: Identifying a Toxic Workplace

My Secret Weapon for Preparing for Awkward Boss Confrontations

Freelancer, Protect Thyself… With a Fair Contract

I Hate My Job and I Don’t Know How To Leave It: A Confession

A New Job, a New Day, a New Life, and I’m Feeling Good

Season 1, Episode 9: “I’ve Given up on My Dream Career. Where Do I Go From Here?”

Take care of your space

How to Successfully Work from Home Without Losing Your Goddamn Mind (Or Your Job)

Leaving Home before 18: A Practical Guide for Cast-Offs, Runaways, and Everybody in Between

Ask the Bitches: I Want to Move Out, but I Can’t Afford It. How Bad Would It Be to Take out Student Loans to Cover It?

How To Maintain Your Car When You’re Barely Driving It

Take care of your people

How Dafuq Do Couples Share Their Money?

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Protect My Own Mental Health While Still Helping Others?”

How Can I Tame My Family’s Crazy Gift-Giving Expectations?

Ask the Bitches: I Was Guilted Into Caring for a Sick, Abusive Parent. Now What?

Love in the Time of Coronavirus: How to Protect Your Community and Your Soul from COVID-19

Be Somebody’s Eliza with a Simple Yet Life-Changing Act of Kindness

Take care of your financial well-being

Ask the Bitches: How Can I Make Myself Financially Secure Before Age 30?

How to Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Ask the Bitches: Is It Too Late to Get My Financial Shit Together?

Slay Your Financial Vampires

Should Artists Ever Work for Free?

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Financial Math

Share My Horror at the World’s Worst Debt Visualization

Stop Undervaluing Your Freelance Work, You Darling Fool

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - And I, You

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1k

Warning(s): Tooth rotting fluff!

Song referenced in the fic is “Butterflies” by Kacey Musgraves! Two fics in one night bc I feel bad leaving ya’ll without content for so long.

—————————————

My feet stepped one over the other, a turn here, a sway there. My loose skirt flowed with my movements. I reached for my wine glass, took a sip, set it back down.

There’s nothing better than the moments where one can romanticize life. Where everything is so perfect, you just have to laugh to yourself and shed a few happy tears.

A soft orange glow lit up the kitchen, where I was baking cookies. There wasn’t a single light on, but I had the window over the sink open. The scent of warm summer rain wafted through the kitchen along with roasting chocolate and vanilla. And cologne.

The song on my phone drifted into the background as I turned to peek at the boy in the doorway.

“Keep dancing.” His soft encouragement brought a smile to my lips. Those euphoric tears welling up in my eyes once again.

“C’mere, Angel.” I called softly, holding my hand out. Jack swiftly met me in the middle of the floor. I loved the way the orange glow lit up his blue eyes. Our two hands slid together while the other two held hips.

“I’m really happy right now.” I admitted, my heart full, and my emotions spilling over. We swayed back and forth before Jack spun me, pulling me back into his chest. His arms wrapped around my stomach and his chin came to rest on my shoulder. I rested my hands on top of his own.

“I’m glad you could come this summer.” Jack whispered before he pressed a kiss to my neck. It caused my stomach to do flips. I tapped his hands to indicate my movement. Jack lifted his head just as I turned in his arms, to face him once again.

“You’re all I wanted this summer.” I admitted, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. Jack waltzed me over to the counter before he lifted me up, quiet laughter falling from our lips as I got situated on the edge of the surface. The cool stone chilled my exposed thighs.

“You’re all I want for the rest of my life.” The middle Hughes brother moved his hands down to my thighs before he reached for my left hand. I smiled as our eyes trailed down to the ring on my finger. A dainty gold band holding a pear shaped diamond resided there. The symbol of a promise Jack made to me just days ago.

I looked back up at Jack, admiring the wonder in his eyes while I reached out with my right hand to adjust his long brown hair, pushing it back behind his ear.

“What kind of wedding do you want?” Jack and I have had this conversation a million times, but he loves to hear my fantasy. Like a good bedtime story.

“Silver and gold.” I whispered, like it was a juicy secret. “In a beautiful decorated barn.. during Christmas.” Jack rested his elbows on my legs and placed his chin onto his fist as he listened. I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“Can we have chocolate cake?”

“We can have any kind of cake you want, baby.” I reached out to carefully wrap my hands around his forearms.

“Go on.” Jack pleaded.

“I want holly. I want it spread around the tables, on all of the white tablecloths. And beautiful lit candles in engraved glasses.”

Jack and I had discussed it so many times, that one would think we didn’t even need a planning period for our wedding day.

“And I’m gonna ask Ellen and my mom to make a few dishes. Maybe some desserts.”

“My mom makes good sugar cookies.”

I smiled and sighed out a laugh. “I know, baby.”

“Keep going.”

I moved my hands from his forearms to gently nudge his elbows. Jack lifted his weight from my legs. He picked up his head and rested his hands on the edge of the counter.

“The best champagne, and a few wine options.“

“We’ll have to find a bar tender.” Jack chimed in. Always helpful when it came to this dream wedding he’d fallen in love with.

“Yes.” I agreed. “And our first dance?” I reminded him of the next step. We hadn’t picked a song yet.

“This one.” Jack spoke softly as he peeked around the room for my phone.

“Kacey Musgraves?” I giggled. I wasn’t opposed to the idea.

“I like it. I wanna dance with you to this song when we get married. Like we danced in here.” I always admired how soft spoken and emotional Jack could be given the right timing.

“You’ve got a deal, Angel.” I leaned forward, my hand reaching up to rest just beneath his chin, guiding his head forward into a loving and chaste kiss.

We pulled apart mere inches, eyes searching one another’s souls. Finding nothing but love in the purest form.

Sometimes I still marveled at the idea that this was the kid I grew up across the street from. The one who ran out into the road without looking both ways. The one who tried to fist fight his older brother over everything until he was seven.

The one I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

“Shit.” I whispered as tears welled up in my eyes. I leaned back to wipe them away.

“Are you okay?” Jack reached up to pull my hands from my face. He held onto them securely but also gently.

“I’m just- feeling a lot right now.” I sniffled.

“Good things?”

“Oh, Jack.” I cooed. “So many good things.”

I leaned forward and threw my arms over his shoulders. Jack lifted me off the counter, arms around my waist as my feet landed atop his own. Just tall enough to kiss him without having to lean upwards.

“I’m infatuated with you.” Jack whispered playfully, his eyes struggling to find a place to focus between my own eyes and my lips.

“And I, you.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

i see a lot of people saying “you can have your opinions but you don’t have to bash a ship that other people like” and i just want y’all to understand. this isn’t about personal preference. there are a lot of ships i dislike or don’t particularly like because of my preferences. that doesn’t mean i’m going to write essays about how bad they are or bash people for liking the ship.

for example, i’m not a huge fan of jayce x mel (arcane) because their relationship kinda came out of nowhere and i don’t really see a lot of chemistry between them. that doesn’t mean i hate the ship or that i resent the creators for making it canon. there’s nothing objectively wrong with this ship. it’s just not for me.

this is not the case with c//a. this ship is objectively problematic because it romanticizes a lot of things that shouldn’t be romanticized, especially in a kids show. i would have even let it slide if it was in an adult show. i would hope that the adults watching would be smart enough to realize that this isn’t an ideal relationship.

but that’s not the case with kids. especially queer kids, who have very little representation to look up to, they’re going to idolize catra’s and adora’s relationship and think that this is completely normal and healthy. if they ever end up with an abusive partner, they won’t question it because their favorite show taught them that people who hurt you are secretly in love with you.

bottom line, different ships can coexist in peace but valid criticism is valid criticism. i didn’t even ship glimmadora for the longest time, so it’s not like i only hate c//a because i’m mad about glimmer and adora not getting together. but that’s what a lot of c//a shippers think, they think we’re just bitter because our favorite ship isn’t canon. and i honestly doubt anyone can convince them otherwise.

[haemey]

@knifeforkspooncup and I got up to some silliness, I went "ok who's gonna write that fic" and well... this happened:

The newest addition to Credo. The title, which I'm treating rather improperly, translates to "Of all things visible and invisible."

Rated G, 5.8k words, making this the longest part of Credo to date.

Tags: Post-Scene: Soho 1967 (Good Omens), the inherent romanticism of crime, cereal as a love language, Comedy, Oneshot. Bickering, bickerflirting, POV Crowley, with a tiny bit of, POV Aziraphale, Ineffable Idiots, innuendos, the inherent eroticism of sugary cereal, does this count as, Crowley has a food kink, Author apologises, Author regrets nothing, author spent an inordinate amount of time not very successfully researching sixties cereal branding, Mention of specific branded cereals, hashtag not sponsored, tiny reference to, Period-Accurate Homophobia, Blink and you'll miss it, silliness, Crack Treated Seriously, Footnotes

Two years after Aziraphale stopped Crowley's... caper on the church, he's getting the crew back together for a different heist. Cereal-based silliness ensues.

Excerpt: “By the way, Crowley, I can’t help but notice that you seem to have taken a liking to… eating breakfast? Only, I didn’t think you had such a sweet tooth.” Blessit all. “Uh, nope. Nah. Not much for cereal, me.” He pulled a disinterested grimace, but in the face of several kilos of the stuff in his car, this was rather ineffective. And a little pathetic. Why did the angel have to show up right then, anyway? “I’m on an assignment, is what I am. Yep. Y’know, make a few parent’s lives harder by buying up all of their kids’ favourite cereal.” A thought occurred to him and he grinned at Aziraphale. “So really, you’re enabling an evil deed, here.” “Oh dear!” Aziraphale looked conflicted for a moment, then brightened right up again. “Well… really, those children should not be eating this much sugar, anyway. We’re really doing them a favour!” “Ngk.”

I had an inordinate amount of fun writing this. Half the time I was just cackling to myself :D

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Tagging @goodomensafterdark again, thank you~

[horror-beeings-artandwriting]

Meet the artist!

^ This is me! Hi. lol (If you wanna draw our personas together GO FOR IT I WOULD BE SO HAPPY!!!)

I love any and all fanart of my ocs/ hc designs, SEND ME/ TAG ME WITH YOUR FANART!!!!!

Here are some of the fandoms I'm in/games I play:

Now To request stuff!

Requests Are OPEN

Art requests: open Writing requests: open(full time again baby)

Qna: Open

How to request! (Writing)

Send an ask, stating: Who you want(one of my ocs, canon character etc) what type(canon x canon, or x reader) and what type of prompt(see the what I write second down below!) and if you want preferred pronoun for the reader! If not specified they will be gender neutral!

How to request! (Art)

Send an ask stating: What character you’d like, if it is purely canon or my personal hc design, and if you want it to be a ship doodle or not! (Can be canon x canon, oc x reader, and Canon x reader!! And OC x OC [you unlock this when you’re my close friend! Yes I’m showing favorites.]) NO NSFW STUFF!!!

What I will write

Fluff Angst Hurt/comfort Gore fics x reader OC x reader (Mainly my ocs) Canon x Canon(I can reject it if I don't feel comfortable with the ship) Heavy topics (Such as depression, anxiety, loss of loved ones)

What I won't write

Smut/ overly suggestive (Im a minor) romanticizing heavy topics Proships(If you are a proshipper gtfo my page.) Suicide fics (Character found out you commited) Cheating fics Infantlizing hcs Abuse fics (Reader/character being abusive)

Fandoms I write for

Phighting (my ocs included)

Pressure (my ocs included)

Ultrakill

Hollow knight (my ocs included, also only platonic for ghost/little knight)

Crk(my au and ocs included)

Doors

Regretevator(my ocs included)

Blocktales(my ocs included)

Extra Info

Projects: Creator of cookie run: malachite rot Co-creator of @phighting-tal-au Working on a Roblox game, might post a bit here idk tho

Socials(Add/Follow me >:3) : Artfight: horror_bee_ing Roblox : Horror_Beeing Discord: horror_bee_ing Steam: Bee

DNI: Basic DNI Under 13 (Why are you guys even on tumblr???) Proshippers/darkshippers Subkit shippers My Blog is my safe space I vent here sometimes it is tagged under "Bee should shut up" Please block this tag if you are uncomfortable!

Remember you are loved These are the help lines around the world please call them if you need too.

That's all uh...Yeah Hi! :3

[princelylove]

Hi, accidentally stumble in your blog~ I love yandere jojo contents too so I hope to see your content about it :D

I don't know what to request yet but maybe we can talk about type of yandere. What is your favorite type of yandere? Mine is delusion or simp yandere (what characters in jojo you think they will be in this category btw)

Delusional types are adorable to me. There’s just something so charming about someone who’s so bent on being together that their brain skips the entire courting process and goes right into “We’re dating. No actually we’re married and have been married since forever and even our past lives were married. You belong to me what do you mean I have to stop calling for fifteen days.” I think my favored type is protective, but delusionals are too cute to pass on. As for those I think are delusional or simps, off the top of my head…

I’d also argue that Mista’s the type to simp, he’s pretty sure he’ll die if you carry your own shopping bags, but he doesn’t strike me as delusional. Love’s gotta be real to him, you know? He’s the kind of guy that can take a maybe, hell, even a hard no! He knows how to back off, but he’s just gonna keep watch from over here if that’s cool with you. I mean, come on, what kinda “friend” would he be if he let you open your own doors or pay for your own meal? He’s got a job, it’s totally on him! Don’t even think about trying to step over that puddle yourself, he’s already got you up by your legs to carry you across. He’s pretty strong, isn’t he? Oh, he’d die a happy man if you praised him for something like that. He’s like a dog whose tail just won’t stop wagging. You’re his everything, why wouldn’t he try to do things for you all the time? That isn’t weird, don’t shove him into the same category as creepy guys who never give up! It’s like typical hollywood stuff, you know? Romanticism or whatever! 

You know who’s fully delusional, though? I say this with lots of love, but Diego. He just cannot fathom the idea of someone rejecting him, I mean, what’s wrong with him? He’s the prince of the british horseracing world, how DARE you reject him??? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him, don’t play hard to get with him of all people! You should be begging for his attention, not the other way around, but here we are. Diego fully believes that you were made for him, you just don’t understand the gravity (I do think I’m funny for this wordplay) of the situation yet. No matter what happens, you’re always going to be his. As long as he’s got it in his head that you’re more of an object than a real person who has thoughts and feelings like he does, he’s not really going to care about your ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Look, pigeons are just meant to be led, and he’s already somewhat fond of you, so just let him have what he wants. I’m firmly of the belief that if you ever flat out rejected him, he’d just think you were unwell and needed him even more. Be good for him, he doesn’t have the time to play this silly little game of cat and mouse with you right now. 

Joseph is another “You can’t play hard to get forever!” type to me, honestly. He’s persistent like a bloodhound, and is going to get in the way of whatever lover or relationship you’ve got going on right now no matter what. He called dibs on you, so, it’s totally fair. He’ll show up to your apartment or house and completely ignore his training if it means getting just a glimpse of you. So what if he’s got a ring in his throat, he wants to put a ring on your finger! Joseph goes the extra mile for you- literally. If you were to move out of town, he’d walk all the way to your new place if he had to. Joseph won’t be deterred so easily. You just wanted him to get some exercise, right, babe? That’s so thoughtful of you! It makes his day when you look his way, especially if you actually catch him showing off with his training. If you were to actually talk to him, or god forbid compliment him, he’d be reeling for a week. He trails behind you on your errands, taking notes mentally of where you go and what you get. One day he’ll know it by heart, and then you won’t even have to go on errands anymore! Unless you want to go with him, that is. Then he’s totally down for a little couple’s day out. Joseph will buy you whatever you want as long as he gets his fix in. Let him put his head on your lap and just stare, and he’ll be thrilled. I don’t necessarily believe that Joseph would kidnap you if you broke his fantasy too many times, but you’re definitely going to start losing a lot of personal time. It doesn’t matter how he got into your apartment, he made dinner. Haha, ok, you caught him. He ordered dinner. 

I think it’s fairly obvious to say that Yukako is delusional. She has a warped sense of reality. Her crimes really don’t matter to her because she’s making up for it. Look, look, she cooked for you. Stop trying to go for the door or the window. Yukako loves you, so you’re going to be perfect for her, and you’re going to be perfect together. She’s firm about never leaving your side even though she’s already got you all to herself. She sees nothing wrong with skipping dating and going right to locking you up if she thinks you need her for something. You’re failing at that cooking class that school made you take despite your pleas not to? She can do that. You’re awful with directions? She knows every little corner of town. You actually don’t need her and are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself? Don’t talk like that. You need her. There’s absolutely no reason to deny her, so let’s do this the cutesy way she wants it. 

[virusinfected-memes]

TUMBLR TEXT POST SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. 2 ;

75 starters. CW: blood mention, cussing, death. Starters come from various text posts floating around Tumblr. The only thing changed for this post was adding capitalization and punctuation. Feel free to change words and pronouns as needed! [PART 1]

“Academia is cool and sexy until I’m expected to work.”

“An anime with more than a hundred episodes is a bigger commitment than marriage.”

“Anyone who believes all water tastes the same is no acquaintance of mine.”

“Anyway, that’s every reported eyewitness account of Mothman through ‘68, and that’s just in West Virginia! Haha, but enough about me. Let’s hear about your top five cryptids!”

“Aside from being the worst person alive, I am literally perfect.”

“At the end of the day, I’m just a girl who loves her bed.”

“Being equally obsessed with each other sounds hot to me.”

“Being good doesn’t get you anything.”

“Be the worst you can be.”

“But do aliens believe in me?”

“Don’t let anyone dehumanize you. Dehumanize yourself. Be the creeping eldritch horror you’ve always longed to be. Rain furious vengeance down upon those who would unmake you.”

“Do something today that would’ve gotten you burnt at the stake four hundred years ago.”

“Do you ever just want someone to come over and sit on the floor with you for a few hours?”

“Do you ever wanna listen to music, but every song is just not the right song?

“Feeling safe around someone’s energy is a different kind of intimacy.”

“Flirting is childish. We’re grown. Just tell the person you like that you see God in their eyes.”

“Friendly reminder that the age of technology is coming to an end and a new age of blood magic and dark rituals will take its place.”

“Friendship is temporary. Blood pacts are forever.”

“Girls don’t want boys. Girls want to live in a Victorian estate and be the most feared widow in the village.”

“Half of me is a hopeless romantic and the other half of me is, well, an asshole.”

“Having a body causes me so much agony. I wish I was just a floating entity with no physical form.”

“How do I overthink so much and still make the wrong decision?”

““I can fix him!” You can’t even fix your sleep schedule, bestie.”

“I don’t care if your body is a temple. Call me when it’s been closed down and taken over by Spirit Halloween.”

“I don’t know about soulmates, but those people who eat parts of the food or candy that you don’t like and you do the same for them... We’ve lived a hundred lifetimes together, probably.”

“I don’t think we can romanticize our way out of this one, boys.”

“If you see me in the streets, just know that my mind is in the void. I’m physically alive, but mentally checked out.”

“I guess we all learned a valuable lesson. Except for me. I wasn’t paying attention and was asleep for most of the time.”

“I hate when people ask what I would do in their situation because nine times out of ten, I would literally never be in that situation in the first place.”

“I hope manners is the next cool trend.”

“I just love sleep so much. Like, you just close your eyes and you’re gone, bitch. Brain logged the fuck off. Powerful.”

“I just realized there’s, like, a hundred new Pokémon coming this year, give or take, and I have to decide what personal memories and details about friends to forget in order to make room for them all.”

“I like my women like I like my woods. Haunted and could kill me at any moment.”

“I like to fuck around and waste time at least six to ten hours a day, and let me tell you, that puts some pressure on your schedule. You have no idea how busy I am.”

“I love to learn. Unfortunately, my brain doesn’t like to remember.”

“I love when I ‘make a mental note’ of something. It’s gone within twenty seconds.”

“I’m not a religious person, but I do sometimes think God made you for me.”

“I’m not playing hard to get. I genuinely don’t know how to talk.”

“I’m wearing dark glasses today because I’m seeing the future, and the future is looking very bright.”

“I think it’s so neat that everyone develops their own unique handwriting even though we’re all taught to write our letters the same way. Really, it’s so cute.”

“I think making sense is optional. Sometimes I just be talking.”

“I think the meaning of life is eating good food in the company of people you love.”

“It’s because I’m pretty, that’s why I have problems.”

“It’s crazy how I’m just some person.”

"It seems you are in love with your computer.”

“It’s not rude to interrupt someone to point out a dog. It’s actually more polite because then they don’t miss out on the dog.”

“I will never elaborate because I have no idea what I just said.”

“Live, laugh, love? Nah. Languish, lament, lay down.”

“Michael Myers taught me a valuable life lesson. Don’t worry about how fast everyone around you is moving. If you’re determined, just move at your own pace and you’ll kill shit every time. Thanks, Mike.”

“Moving to the forest to eat leaves and lie in the dirt. Insurance companies can’t deny me this.”

“Okay, bored of being alone now. Ready to get married.”

“Okay, hear me out... What if—now bear with me—we held hands? Maybe even kiss a little? Hugs would be nice—”

“People keep posting ‘what’s REALLY in your food’ articles like I’m gonna stop eating whatever it’s about. Listen, death is coming. Death is coming. Pass me a hot dog.”

“People who fall asleep right away freak me out. Don’t you bitches have thoughts?”

“Really starting to understand old people these days. I love letters. Love packages. Terrified of my email inbox.”

“Someone take me out. Either in the assassination way or in the date way.”

“Sorry for being so sexy and having the best taste in literature. As if I asked for it.”

“Sorry I called you a fucking idiot. I was trying to flirt.”

“So what if I love you? Shut up.”

“The fact that I have to be in the ‘right headspace’ to do even the simplest tasks is absolutely humiliating.”

“The only difference between me and a medieval peasant is that I can make a Spotify playlist to express my feelings.”

“The only reason I haven’t gone insane is because I romanticize everything.”

“There should be a dating app where you talk to people who borrowed the same books from the library.”

“There’s something inherently holy about kitchens.”

“Tired of being a person. Would much rather be an unidentifiable and nebulous entity that lives in the woods and may or may not be an omen of misfortune to come.”

“Wanna haunt the neighborhood with me tonight?”

“Well, I used to be attracted to people, but now I’m exclusively attracted to abstract art and the concept of death.”

“What is the logic behind naps leaving you with a weird taste in your mouth? I wasn’t eating, I was sleeping. It’s the spiders, isn’t it?”

“Winnie the Pooh didn’t rock crop tops our whole childhood to watch us become unconfident about our bodies.”

“Yes, I’m dramatic! What did you expect? I read classic literature for fun.”

“You’d look prettier under six feet of dirt.”

“You don’t always need to talk. Like, it’s good to shut the fuck up sometimes. I love not talking.”

“You gotta walk into rooms like God sent you.”

“You’re beautiful, but you’re empty. No one could die for you.”

“You wanna know what’s annoying me right now? It’s me. I am annoying the goddamn shit out of myself.”

[cloginthedrain]

rooftops and vigilantes (part two) (matt murdock x reader)

summary: reader pays matt a visit at his office, and matt invites himself over. banter and flirtations ensue.

masterlist | previous | next

word count: 1169

notes: lots of banter, back and forth, and flirting. reader gets a little too confident. a bit of a shorter one, but only slightly. hope you like it, i do!!! i've really appreciated a lot of the lovely comments and support. i've been having a lot of fun writing this one.

comments & reblogs always appreciated! <3

—

You stand in front of the smudgy, glass door, and take a shaky breath.

Once you’ve mustered enough courage, you push the door open to the coffee shop, chest fluttering with excitement at the possibility of just seeing Matt. Built, rugged, but put together.

You approach the coffee bar, your usual guilty pleasure before your grocery run.

“Your usual?” Ellie muses, all smiles. Penning your name, this time with a winky face. Your eyes narrowed.

“Please,” you say graciously. You fumble in your hellish bag for the familiar feeling of your beat up, pleather wallet amongst the mess of your bag: apartment keys, wired earbuds, chapstick, lotion, and your expired lip tint. You might’ve left it behind. 

“No, that’s okay.” 

“Ellie. I’m paying,” you say firmly.

She grins. “No, what I mean is that Matt’s got it.”

“Matt?” You flush, shifting your weight. Your limbs suddenly feel heavy. 

“Yes, Matt, he stopped by,” Ellie starts, a gleam of (obnoxious) curiosity in her eyes. “He said thanks for the whiskey. Whatever that means. You just missed him.” 

Your features soften. Last night, sewing kits. Whiskey. Rugged, shirtless, sweaty. Late night, and hell, an early morning. 

“Right,” you said. “Can I have that to go?”

“He got you this too.” Ellie places one of her freshly-baked crumbly raspberry lemon muffins on the counter.

You flush beet-red. Horrific.

You dodge further interrogation from your favorite nosy barista by excusing yourself to your booth to wait for your drink. You’re yet again rummaging in your bag, this time for a book to pretend to read. To no avail, you had left it on your bed-side table.

Chairs were still upturned onto the tables, warm lights illuminating the café. You practically run out of there, with your raspberry lemon muffin to go, as soon as your dirty chai hits the bar counter.

Your eye glimmers as soon as you step out. Across the street, a shiny metal plaque reads: 

Nelson and Murdock. Attorneys at Law.

You figured some time to kill before you had to head back to hold your virtual discussion for a survey course in English Romanticism.

You languidly climb the steps, exhausted from the night before, and pushed the door open. You took in the poorly-lit room. A prim, freckled blonde woman clacking away at her laptop.

She looks up from her work with a soft, perfectly cordial smile. “How can I help you?”

“Uhm,” you interrupt, shyly. “I’m here to see Matt?”

“Oh, Matt? He should be here soon.”

The door slams behind you. 

“He’s right here.” His hearty chuckle is unmistakable, one you could grow quite partial to. 

“Right,” the blonde woman starts. “This is, erm—“ She stops short. She hadn’t gotten your name. 

“Y/N,” Matt finishes. “Y/N, this is Karen. Our receptionist.” 

“Nice to meet you, Karen,” You barely manage. The verbal thing comes and goes. Especially in the intimidating presence of a man, Matt, in a well-fitting suit. You never accounted for that in your streak of confidence. “Just came by to thank you for the muffin. And the chai. And for leaving me defenseless against our nosy, mutual barista. I, uh, saw your sign outside.” 

As you’re blabbering you wonder if you crossed a line, coming into his work. The ball is in your court, right?

“Right,” He refoots. “I heard you’re partial to a raspberry lemon muffin.” 

“Something like that,” you say. You sense some awkwardness. “Anyway, I’ll go. Thanks again.”

You turn to leave. 

“Wait,” Matt starts.

If it was possible, your ears perked up. “Yeah?” 

“I’ll see you tonight?” 

You pretend to think for a moment, but not for a second more— trying to play it cool. You fail. 

“You bet,” you practically beam.

As soon as you leave, Foggy stumbles past you through the door. 

“Hey Froggy,” you say kindly, not noticing your mistake. 

He turns his head to do a double-take as you walk out of the building. “Hey?”

Once he’s in the office, false-outraged, Foggy asks accusingly, “Matt, who was that?” 

—

You did see him that night.

“Maybe you're not a vigilante,” you muse, admittedly a little wine drunk. “You’re a criminal. You’re robbing me, depriving me of my sleep.”

You’re sitting on the couch, legs across Matt’s lap, cradling a glass of wine. Student papers long discarded across your coffee table. You’re looser, a bit daring. You’re wearing your comfiest pair of sweats, heat be damned. Air-conditioning blasting.

“Right, I’m depriving you,” Matt laughs, further encouraging your antics. “You sure it’s not the deadlines you have to meet to sift through hundreds of student papers?” He’d also add guzzling insane amounts of caffeine factored into it. 

“Nope, and I’m prepared to make my case.” 

“You realize who you’re talking to?” 

“I have a leg to stand on,” you proclaim, particularly audacious. You sit up. “I was an English major.”

“Meaning?”

“I also know how to argue,” you slur, tilting your head. A challenge.

Your face inched close enough that you felt his breath, short, tickle your skin. Saw the shadow of his stubble. His plump pink lips.

You lost any sort of nerve right then.

“Let’s get you some coffee, sweetheart,” Matt redirects, and then as an aside, says to himself, “Or get you to bed.”

—

You were horrified the next morning. You wanted to sink further into your bed, to be swallowed under your covers. 

You had woken up late. 10 am. A ceremonious first.

A god awful headache too. Being taken with a night owl had its consequences.

You reach for your phone, and magically it's connected to the charger. Phone battery green, 100%. You peek at the notifications.

A missed call. Could be work, you reason. Blah.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Matt.

“Blegh, stop that,” you groan. “How’d you get my number anyway?”

You wish you could say you were surprised, but Matt’s been a recurring theme in your life as of, well, these past few weeks.

“I have my ways,” Matt pauses.

You don’t say anything, but roll your eyes so hard.

“Let’s just say you really wanted me to have your number last night,” Matt practically gloats. 

“Awh jeez,” you cringe, sitting up. You had forgotten that part.

At this point, you’re upright, just barely, and in pursuit of some sort of caffeine. Then you remember.

“Nooooo,” you moan, helplessly, and you’re back in your bed.

“What?”

“Remember when I, uh, ambushed you at your office?”

“Vaguely.”

“Right, so I was supposed to go grocery shopping,” you babble. “There is nothing in the cupboards, including but especially coffee. There’s some decaf for my mom when she visits. I suppose I can try and microdose the trace amounts of caffeine… That’s a lot of coffee. Nothing I’m not used to—”

“Or, I can bring you coffee.”

“Oh, Matt, no—” you start. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“Already leaving.”

You slump further into your bed. “Suppose there’s no point in pretending that I’m not secretly pleased then.”

“Yep, see you soon, sweetheart."

The call clicks off, and you roll your eyes.

You really are pleased.

[ohwhataniight]

"Oh what a night" – The case of the BBC Sherlock transmasc aesthetics: Relating to problematic masculinities in search for identity

So I sat down and rewrote this silly essay I wrote one day after returning from my trip to the US. Flaneurism at its best (or at its worst, idk). Please bear with me but definitely send in your feedback if you read and feel like it, it means the world to me and it will definitely help me unpack some of my problematicness! Thank you <3

I take a deep drag of my American Spirit cigarette whilst the tail ofmy long black coat swishes behind me dramatically. Dusk-time Boston is lit up. The skyscrapers towering over my tiny figure are glittering against the dark through the blurry lens of my camera phone.

I am consciously imitating the aesthetic of the modern but also always Victorian BBC Sherlock, in the scene following John and Mary’s wedding, in which the world’s only consulting detective surrenders to his noble, quiet pining for his not-gay best friend.

What even is masculinity, anyway? What would I like it to be?

The creators of the series, Gatiss and Moffat, spent 10 years religiously denying the possibility of a romantic or sexual relationship between the two protagonists, while driving the hordes of fans into delirium every time that Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch) and John (Martin Freeman) made love with their eyes or confessed their devotion to one another. Despite the queerbaiting, the homophobia and the sexism in the Moftis series, despite the 4th season fiasco, despite the actors denying the possibility of their characters ever running together into the sunset, Sherlock himself never denied being queer. Gay, asexual, demisexual, the interpretations are many, a breath of representation in the relative democracy of fandom. And as if that wasn’t enough, Sherlock and John end up canonically raising John’s daughter together at their 221B Baker Street apartment.

The modernized urban Victorian aesthetic, the provocatively coded dialogues, the deep homosociality, and the simple, pure bitterness towards the creators, renders the community of Johnlock fans more alive than ever almost 10 years after the series’ finale. In some hidden, bright corners of the internet, like fanfiction.net and archiveofourown.com, women and queers publish analyses and fanfiction in which they explore the endless galaxy of human genders, sexualities, and forms of kinship, writing the insufferably British male characters as women, non-binary, FTM, Alpha and Omega, pregnant, high, and always together - two human animals exploring bodies and experiences that belong to us in the shelter of Baker Street, with their landlady, Mrs. Hudson, being their most ardent shipper. We write entire full-length novels for free, with our sole motive being the exploration, the practice in writing, and the communication with other queers, other women, other people who feel like us and live in different sides of the earth which, despite Sherlock not remembering, keeps on orbiting the sun with the certainty born by a Johnlocker for their OTP being endgame.

Back to Boston now, which looks like Glasgow on steroids, with its red brick buildings and the glass towers that pierce the skies - it doesn’t feel as cozy and familiar to me as European cities, but it is big enough to swallow and hide me, safely, away from the suffocating and often murderous, homotransphobic gaze of my motherland, Greece. Boston feels big enough to make me feel free, invisible, and at the same time more visible than ever.

Here’s how I made it happen: in the name of an egotistical but seductive flaneurism, in the idea that here I can be non-binary and roaming the streets while smoking without thinking that, at any given moment, I might be spotted by the people from whom I’m hiding both facts, I end up romanticizing a stroll on stolen land, as well as the tar in my lungs. I feel the need to wander around, heavily perfumed, with a hanful of product in my hair, dressed androgynously in a way that my mother only accepts because she doesn’t understand the meaning of it, smoking as the soundtrack of Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons’ December 1963 (Oh What a Night) blasts through my old headphones. As a queer person living in Greece, I never felt that the streets belonged to me. I’ve always felt like a pariah looking for somewhere to belong to, and the irony of going after that feeling in America as a white European tourist brings a certain sourness to my mouth. Is that how Columbus felt? Was he a sissy who didn’t feel accepted by his mum in their suffocating mediterranean society? No, fuck that thought. Fuck that circle, fuck everything I've been taught by the writers of history. I decide to leave these streets to their people, without it meaning that I’ve suddenly found the courage to reclaim my own back in motherland.

Exhaustion, flight, cowardice? Survival.

Later I will learn that the American Spirits with the Native American on their turquoise box are anything but native-owned. What’s certain is that, in this trip, I found solace while smoking stolen land.

What does that make me? A citizen of the world?

After all, in the entire trip, I pretend I’m Sherlock, the whitest man to ever white man. It’s not as if I don’t have my own personality - at least I hope that I do. It is that through relating (to fictional characters, actors, role models who remind me of an aesthetic I had to build from scratch for my trans self, with the help of other queer people who created fanart or fanfiction, moulding new arhetypes) I find a vehicle for the exploration of my existence more easily, I see my reflection (or the one I’d like to have) in the mirror. In the fandom nobody tells you how to imagine your favourite characters and how not to. Nobody tells you how to write yourself, and nobody blames you for doing it. You create with self-indulgence, and you’re applauded for it. And that saved my life.

For years I related to a genderfluid Tonks, a trans Remus Lupin, a fanon Jean Prouvaire from Les Mis. Through all those experimentations and games, the changing of clothes in the dark, the opening and closing of the closet door, I found a name for myself: Sam. And Sam, like every other trans masculinity with the name Sam, Skye, Noah, and Eliott, contains multitudes. 

For the timebeing, my persona of choice is that of Sherlock, perhaps the most insufferable (and one of the most privileged) characters in the history of British TV (which says a lot). “What do you have in common with that emotionally constipated man?” you ask me because you know that my own sentiments are constantly dancing naked before me. I wonder why that is. Indeed, what do I have in common with that guy and end up projecting so much on him? Me, who hesitates to even cancel a doctor’s appointment in pursuit of constant politeness and people-pleasing (AFAB, you see).

When Sherlock’s landlady, Mrs. Hudson, disapproves of his manners and threatens him with a tete-a-tete with his mother, Sherlock gives her his blessing, saying: “You can if you like, she understands very little”.

Sherlock and his turbulent relationship to his parents. Sherlock who always observes everything while staying outside, because he doesn’t know how to get in. Sherlock, always so different that he’s used to people laughing at him, gaping at him with awe, or wanting to punch him in the face. Sherlock who always attracts attention simply because he functions the way he functions, constantly failing to be a normal human being. Neurodivergent Sherlock, camp Sherlock, forgotten-in-another-era, flaneur Sherlock, who even in the Gatiss series (especially in the Gatiss series) is desperate to love, but he never manages to get it right. And finally, Sherlock the logical, the detached, the cynic: masculine elements that I never managed - and was never allowed to - acquire, and which I desperately, problematically craved, because in society and inside me they have been coded as masc.

I am the opposite Sherlock, and that makes me even more of a Sherlock, I decide, and if that helps me sleep at night, then so be it, for now. 

As Hil Malatino writes in the chapter Fall Out Boy is Trans Culture of his essay Surviving Trans Antagonism: “The boy at the center of a [Fall Out Boy track, brackets mine] is [...] being eminently braggadocious and narcissistic [...]. He’s stationed directly at the center of a completely solipsistic universe. No matter how insufferable this kind of guy is in reality, I would have killed for a fraction of his swaggering self-confidence as a kid” (Malatino 2020, 17).

What even is masculinity, anyway? What would I like it to be?

“Do I look like Sherlock?” I ask you, hopeful and doe-eyed as I prance around in my black suit inside the house while packing for the trip. “Sherlock is gender, you know.”

“Do you really want to know how I see your gender? 100% honest-to-God?” you ask mischievously.

“Yes, I do,” I’m hanging from your lips.

“You are, deep inside your soul, in this tartan robe of yours, Bananas in Pyjamas.”

I think about it. Not exactly Sherlock. I smile though. I see my gender in your words. Goofy, boyish, vintage, loud, sleepy, badly dressed: Me. Headcanon accepted.

If headcanon and fanon - that is, reclaimed - Holmes played by (problematic) Cumberbatch teaches me how to be a boy or a man, then so be it, because I hope that my performance will be filtered, as much as possible, through my “girlish” (though still white) sensibilities. That, and the fact that there is a child inside me who never got to live as an openly, unashamedly neurodivergent, inquisitive little boy. Because there is a masculine side inside me that I must hide every day when I go to work. So I put together a playlist, I put on my scruffy headphones, and I tar my lungs, just a little more, a little longer until I’m able to finally leave my country for good and feel ready to love myself as I am. My coat swishes behind me as I dance alone on the street, invisible among the crowd, yet feeling more visible than ever before.

CITATIONS: Malatino, H. (2020). Trans care, University of Minnesota Press. https://doi.org/10.5749/j.ctv17mrv14