#also was literally saying happy new year. you can’t respond and say happy new year back??

[purplethespian]

G-d I love when I say or send things to people on Snapchat or something and I can see that they’ve opened the message and not responded and it’s just like. Cool! Do You Hate Me Or What!

I am trying to do the Friendship Thing where I initiate interactions to demonstrate that I want a relationship with people and then they just don’t respond and it’s like. Okay why do I even fucking bother then. Like maybe I don’t lack object permanence with friends maybe it’s just that people Don’t Fucking Respond So How Am I Supposed To Know We’re Friends.

[leclercsainzz]

hey hun!

could you write a smau with actress!reader x charles where charles is literally whipped for his gf and maybe reader is in the new barbie movie and he can’t stop talking about how proud he is and stuff like that and the fans and other drivers make fun of how whipped he is

thx xx 🩷

INTO YOU

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x actress!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 518,028 others

yourusername: pretty in pink! 🩷

view 7,929 comments

charles_leclerc: you look mesmerizing

charles_leclerc: baby, you are looking gorgeous 😍

charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!

↳ yourusername: i love youuuu <33

user: the way he hype’s her up, i cannot 😭

↳ user: i need me a man like that ASAP

francisca.cgomes: stunning!!

isahernaez: obsessed with you and your beauty 😩

↳ charles_leclerc: same!

carlossainz55: i cannot stop looking at these - charles

↳ carlossainz55: yn, come get your man! he keeps refreshing this post every 5 seconds just to comment

↳ sebastianvettel: what is it that teens say nowadays? ah, yes .. he’s WHIPPED!

user: you’re so pretty, I CAN’T 😭

user: how does charles get this beauty all to himself?!??

user: call me charles cause i’m also a simp for you 😌

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa and 540,619 others

yourusername: this barbie is a certified genius #thebarbiemovie

view 8,510 comments

user: tuRN IT UP, WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! 🔥

charles_leclerc: so proud of you, my love!! ❤️

user: screaming, crying, throwing up .. can’t wait!!

charles_leclerc: the prettiest barbie ever!

↳ yourusername: my biggest fan 😘

dualipa: you’re a real beauty!

user: she truly is barbie and then there’s charles

↳ user: she’s everything, he’s just ken

user: charles is one lucky ass man, i swear 😭

↳ charles_leclerc: that i am:)

↳ user: i hope you know how to fight

lewishamilton: charles sent this to the group chat and DEMANDED we all watch this

↳ user: ooh, to be in this gc

user: i cannot wait to watch this!!

charles_leclerc and yourusername

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 683,893 others

charles_leclerc: first of all i want to start of by saying happy 3 year anniversary, chéri!! with all that you’ve accomplished over the years, i can’t help but be immensely proud of you and your hard work .. i’m glad to have you around and blessing my life in ways you’d never imagine … thank you for being my biggest supporter and lightning up my mood every chance you get! i love you will all my heart, baby!! ❤️

tagged: @yourusername

view 8,841 comments

yourusername: omg, you’re making me cry:(

yourusername: thank you, bby! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️

user: i’m noT crying, you are

carlossainz55: please tell me yn bought that t-shirt for you

↳ charles_leclerc: if it helps you sleep at night then yes

maxverstappen1: that t-shirt, mate 💀 someone’s WHIPPED

lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is yn’s biggest fan

↳ pierregasly: 😭😭 not even yn’s fans are this obsessed

↳ carlossainz55: the BIGGEST simp out there

user: the waY the other drivers are coming for him 😂

user: cRYING OMG 😭

user: the way they’re each other’s biggest supporter 😩

danielricciardo: i was about to comment “cute” until i saw the last picture you posted ….

↳ user: danny, please 💀 let the man live

yoursername

liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 548,792 others 

yourusername: european premiere in london for barbie & race week officially completed ✔️❤️

view 6,847 comments

user: the way she went to support him even though she had to attend the premiere later on 😭

↳ user: don’t forget he attended the premiere with her too

↳ user: smh, and i can’t even get a respond

charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!! ❤️

↳ yourusername: back at you;) 😘

user: meanwhile my bf can’t do the bare minimum

user: they’re the reason i believe in love, i swear 😩🤍

danielricciardo: did you tell margot robbie i love her?

↳ yourusername: of course!! (charles sent you a vid)

user: every couple wishes they were them

carlossainz55: meanwhile charles leclerc starstruck by his own girlfriend at the premiere

↳ maxverstappen1: he’s acting as if he doesn’t live with her and sees her 24/7 💀

↳ yourusername: 😭 i can’t with ya’ll

yourusername and charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 586,931 others

yourusername: get you someone who looks at you and appreciates you the way he does!! 😚

tagged: @charles_leclerc

view 7,629 comments

charles_leclerc: i’m addicted to you

↳ yourusername: me @ you 😩

charles_leclerc: i can never take my eyes off you, you’re too gorgeous, baby!!

charles_leclerc: you make me blush 🤭

↳ lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is the #1 simp

user: theY’RE MY PARENTS, yA’lL

user: the way he looks at her with such love 😭 i CANNOT

pierregasly: obsessive fan behavior, if you ask me

carlossainz55: i guess this is cute

↳ yourusername: guess???!??

↳ carlossainz55: it’s cute

user: this mf is sooo whipped!!!

↳ user: he’s just like me 💁🏻‍♀️

user: he better know how to fight cause i’m gonna steal his girl

↳ charles_leclerc: for the girl i love, absolutely

↳ user: mY HEART JUST MELTED WTF 😭

user: they say love is dead, but these two proved me wrong

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

What are you trying to say? - Trevor Zegras

Word Count - 3600

Author's Note - I 100 percent projected my own dysleixia hardcore into this. This was 100 percent written for the dyslexic girlies and learning disability girlies only. Also not me accidentally maybe becoming a Trevor girlie after writing this oh no. This one is by far my favorite segment.

Warnings - light angst but like it ends happy shocking for this page, who am I becoming???

Summary - In the talking stage with Trevor Zegras you're not sure how his joking personality will respond to your struggles that you have with being an adult with dyslexia, especially since it doesn't affect you how media expects it to.

Let me love you masterlist main masterlist

This isn’t something new to you, you’ve struggled your entire life with the fact that you're dyslexic. It’s a lot more complicated than people may recognize. Many people assume that it only comes up when you're trying to read something like a textbook or an article, and that when you’re finished with school it won’t really affect your daily life anymore but that’s far from the truth. In truth, being an adult with dyslexia affects you in little ways daily. From having difficulty knowing your left and right when given verbal directions, your spelling being terrible when texting others, mispronouncing certain words and being easily embarrassed when it gets pointed out, or worse sometimes the word is literally on the tip of your tongue you can even physically see in your brain but your mouth can’t form the proper sounds, how certain fonts you struggle to read vs others, or that black ink on white paper is the bane of your existence.  Although all of these are “little” things, it does impact the way you communicate with others. It does feel extremely frustrating sometimes feeling like people think that you're using your dyslexia as an “excuse” when in reality your brain is wired completely differently because of it. 

Since you first met Trevor and started talking to him, you had that fear you always do in the pit of your stomach, will he pick on you the first time that he truly can’t understand a text or the first time he hears you mispronounce a word despite years of speech therapy where you tried to but still you can’t pronounce correctly. Although, part of you knew that your fear was extremely irrational, part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that was until proven otherwise the jokester in Trevor would make a joke about something you truly couldn’t control. 

That is until today, when it happened it’s one of those rare days when you were driving and Trevor was in the passenger seat. His car was in the shop, and he needed a ride back from the arena to his apartment. Originally he was going to take an Uber but since you both already had plans after the morning skate you insisted on picking him up. 

“It’s easiest if you take this right up here to get back to my place.” He directs you without looking up from his phone,you tell him okay, turn on your left turn signal and get in the left lane. Trevor finally looks up from his phone while you're waiting at the red light for it to turn green to see you're in the wrong lane. 

“Sweetie?” asking in a questioning tone

“Hmmm” 

“This is the left lane. I told you to take a right.” Trevor says in a concerning tone as to how you were five traffic lanes away from where you needed to be. 

“sorry I thought you said ‘left’. I can make a u-turn?” Deciding in the moment you didn’t want to admit that you heard him correctly but processed the direction wrong, you offered as the traffic light finally turned green. 

“It’s alright we can just take the long way. Don’t worry about a u-turn.”  Not seeming to care at all that it will add an extra 10 minutes to the drive due to the mistake. 

As you continued driving you ended up making another wrong turn, Trevor put his left hand on your thigh and subconsiously rubbed small circles into skin to comfort your growing anxiety, he could feel this odd tension that was built up in the car. “Can you point please?” your voice barely over a whisper as you felt extremely embarrassed all of a sudden and started feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

“Yeah Y/N/N I can do that, we could also switch places. I can drive you the rest of the way if you need it if you're feeling anxious all of a sudden.” Trevor was being really sweet, trying to fix the problem at hand thinking it was just some anxious thoughts and not your brain processing audible information incorrectly. 

“No, pointing is good.” Forcing yourself to look straight ahead because you don’t want to accidentally catch his eyes as he looks at you with a worried look. He squeezes your thigh in a comforting way and drops the topic. The rest of the ride felt quick as he pointed and said the direction you needed to go until you reached his apartment. Finding a parking spot in the garage you parked your car, as soon as you felt your foot on the brake, and your right hand pulled the gear in park, you leaned back automatically and sighed grateful you were done driving. Trevor still had his hand on your thigh, he turned his neck so that his head was also resting on the headrest. 

Trevor patiently waited until you opened your eyes, turning to him with a soft smile. “You ready?” you ask him, as you start to unbuckle your seatbelt. As you grab your purse from the back, your hand on the door handle. His hand that was on your thigh is gone and immediately pulls you by the wrist back into your seat. As he takes his other hand and gently places it on your cheek forcing you to look at him. 

“Can we talk about it?” His voice was steady, calm, confident but soft, almost as if he was scared of your reaction. 

Smiling a little wider now, in a split second you try to decide what you want to do. Do you want to tell a boy who you’ve only been casually talking to and hanging out with a handful of times - one of them being this current moment - about being dyslexic. Although it’s not that big of a deal in retrospect, it’s something that you can never take back once you said the words. Even though it’s something so simple and common no one ever looks at you the same again. Were you ready to tell Trevor, and see his face change permanently or did you want to live in ignorant bliss for a little longer. 

“I’m fine, it’s just when I drive somewhere new I like listening to the GPS and not a person telling me directions, it helps me focus better is all.” sheepishly you admit. 

Ignorant Bliss. That’s the choice you made. 

“Okay well next time, can you tell me that so I don’t have to watch you stress yourself out please?” His hand that was on your wrist, going down to your hand playing with your hand. Taking your hand that he was playing with, fully grasping his you squeeze his hand as a silent yes, and nod your head. He leans over the middle console and quickly peaks your lips as if it was a last minute impulse and he meant the cheek. “Thank you, let's go inside.” 

—-------------------------------

Living in ignorant bliss was great for a few weeks, until you started to actually like Trevor. Talking to a guy for a few months and it not going anywhere vs meeting someone and potentially seeing at least an exclusive relationship with them were two very different things. Knowing that you saw a relationship with him in the future meant it was only a matter of time before he found out that your dyslexic which again isn’t that big of a deal, but the fact that you also lied to him a few weeks ago. Not telling him is one thing, but lying when he asked why you were struggling to drive that day is a completely different act. 

Trying to put off the inevitable you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind. Somehow convincing yourself that if you didn’t think about it, then the problem would disappear he would never find out. I mean when you didn’t know how to spell a word while texting, you just spoke it into your phone. As far as grammar no one really had perfect grammar when texting including Trevor to be perfectly honest he probably didn’t even notice half the time. Plenty of people kept all their devices in dark mode for plenty of reasons, he had no reason to ask, although you did it because it helped your eyes stay focused on the words in front of you, not for the aesthetic. 

Even so, with all of these excuses as to why he wouldn’t notice you failed to remember that certain words you truly can’t pronounce the correct way no matter how hard you try. It all came crashing down tonight when you were at Trevor’s apartment cooking dinner for the both of you. Dinner was almost done at this point, when Trevor came behind you just now re-entering the kitchen after taking an expected call from his little sister. Trevor wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on top of your shoulder. 

“Everything okay?” you ask your curiosity getting the best of you, even though you know it’s none of your business. 

“Yeah she’s fine.” Pressing a kiss into where your jawline and neck meet. “smells good.” He compliments your cooking as he teases you one more time with a small nip with his teeth where he just kissed you, before pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder. 

Answering shyly, you let out a “thank you.”

“Anything I can help with?” asking genuinely although you're not sure if it’s to be kind or if it’s because he’s hungry but either way you’ll take it. As he slowly unwraps himself from you, getting ready to help you in any way you need. 

Without looking up from the chicken that you're grilling on the stove, trying to concentrate on the task at hand you answer him. “Yeah actually can you grab out the mellk from the fridge for the mashed potatoes.” Not even thinking twice about what you just said until you heard a chuckle coming from across the kitchen. 

“What babe?” standing in front of a now open fridge, he could have sworn you tried to say milk but botched the word so badly, it couldn’t have possibly been.

“the mellk” finally noticing what you asked for, knowing this is one of the words people can’t help but point out how you butcher it. 

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, truly confused now that he heard it twice. 

“M - il - k “ you repeat slowing down your mouth trying to force yourself to pronounce it properly but also not speak too slowly. Hoping that it's noticeable as you force your tongue to the roof of your mouth to make the “il” sound.  

A small chuckle leaves Trevor’s lips but it wasn’t a malicious way, it was as if he chuckled because he found it adorable. “Here's the milk baby.” walking back over to you and placing it on the empty counter space next to the bowl of steaming hot cooked potatoes. Taking the chicken off the hot burner you moved to the island to where the potatoes were. 

“Sorry” you mumble as he stands beside you, his hip resting on the side of the island. 

“For what?” His eyebrows frowned, his eyes focused the side of your face the only thing he could see. Focusing on the task at hand, you used the potato masher and mashed the potatoes. Opening the milk and adding a little along with some butter that you set out earlier. 

Feeling the rise of some anxiety in your stomach, hoping that you could procrastinate just a little longer on admitting that you didn’t tell him the whole truth. Deciding if now was the time or if you were gonna dig yourself in a bigger hole by wrapping yourself in a thicker web of tiny white lies. 

Finally turning your head to the side to face him and taking a deep breath. 

For good measure making one more deep breath before you barely utter the words, your nerves getting the better of you. “I lied.” 

Trevor’s face immediately changed from confusion and concern. In an instant it became shocking and almost hurt, that the girl he thought was actually going somewhere a month in, is admitting to lying to him. Not when he told her in the beginning that lying wasn’t something he tolerated after his ex lied to him for months and manipulated him. Not when he just told his little sister not even ten minutes ago on the phone that tonight he was gonna ask you to be his official girlfriend. “What are you talking about?” his voice cracking before he could even get the word out, quickly clearing his throat to cover up his own insecurities about the possible tension that could slowly be felt brewing in his kitchen. 

“Remember a few weeks, when I was driving you to your apartment from the stad-” 

“What the FUCK does that have to do with lying to me? When did you lie to me Y/N” Not only has Trevor never once raised his voice at you in a not joking way, but he’s never cursed at you, and his tone made you close your eyes and flinch at the impact. Immediately, seeing you flinch he sighed his hand going to lightly crease her arm closest to him. “When did you lie?” asking at a much softer tone than moments before. 

“I’m trying to explain.” Trevor could have sworn he felt his chest hurt when he heard you struggling to speak, as if you were trying to get yourself not to cry. “Please let me explain.” 

“Okay” he softly let out, as he squeezed your arm not sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself as he felt the possibility of you slipping through his fingers. 

“A few weeks ago when I drove you home.” finally turning her body fully turning to face him. “I lied, When you asked me what happened. I told you I need the GPS because I get overwhelmed.” Pausing to make sure that Trevor was following along, he nodded along, “I lied, sort of,” your voice picking up in speed with each word you uttered out  “I mean I do get overwhelmed while driving but it’s not because of that it’s not that I” 

“Baby please take a breath you're scaring me” His other arm is going to cup your cheek, even though he was mad before as he heard you fixated on driving him home a few weeks ago. He knew it couldn’t have possibly been any of the terrible ideas that popped into his head, at least Trevor hoped not.

 “I sometimes get my left and right confused.” Looking up trying to gauge his reaction, watching as one of his eyebrows go down, as if to say ‘that’s all.’ 

“Okay. So that was the lie? Everyone gets confused sometimes and makes mistakes baby it’s okay” His famous smile slowly takes over his face. 

“That’s the thing is it isn’t sometimes, it’s kind of a lot when I’m driving when someone is giving me directions without pointing, and there are other things too. I mean they're small but they still affect me almost daily and I just.” 

Deciding to take a breath because if you don’t you will be more likely to trip up your words or stutter. “I’m dyslexic and it’s not really how they describe the movies.” 

His smile dropped a little and you swear it felt as if your heart felt as if it had just dropped a hundred flights down the Empire State building. “Dyslexic. Like you mix up letters when reading?”

“Yeah but it’s more than that.”

“Okay. But why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Why did you say it’s because you get overwhelmed.” 

“Because I do get overwhelmed when I make dumb mistakes like that. Plus, everytime I tell someone they never look at me the same. A lot of times they are shocked, and they also sometimes judge me because how does it not affect me the way the media portrays it? Why do I mispronounce words, why can’t I tell my left and right when someone gives me a direction, why I can’t read maps to save my fucking life but yet if I don’t have my GPS running I’m bound to a wrong turn, why does sometimes my mind decide I either can’t come up with a word at all or I can physically see it but I can’t say it and I can’t spell it because I’m such a bad speller.” 

“Shhh” not trying to cut you off but also trying to get you to breathe. “So you didn’t tell me cause you were scared I would look at you differently? Or judge you when something you can’t control comes out at random times of the day? That’s why you told me to point instead of just saying it because you didn’t wanna tell me in fear?” Not sure his tone is showing remorse for you thinking that at all or hurting that you ever would think of him in that way. 

“Yeah.” you embarrassingly admit.

Trevor spent the rest of the night listening to you and how your brain was different due to your own personal experience with being a dyslexic. The next morning you found him reading an article about the effects of different lighting and how dark mode was the best for dyslexics and certain fonts were better than others. It made you chuckle as you told him you knew and that’s why your phone was permanently in dark mode.  That day, he changed all the settings on his tv’s in his entire apartment for dark mode, even all of his own personal devices. Finding it adorable that he went on a tangent when he found out certain apps don’t support dark mode and how he said it was discriminating. Finding it harder and harder for yourself to hide your soft smile as you watched him continue his rant, your heart swelling at how passionate he sounded. 

“I really like you, you know.” you admitted when he finally stopped complaining about how Mirosoft finally started supporting dark mode it was still ‘white paper’ on black ink so they really missed the whole point. 

“Oh yeah.” as he grabs you, pulling you towards him on the couch, tangling your legs with his. 

“Yup” popping the p for emphasis.

“I really like you too. Actually I was gonna ask you.. Wanna make this official and let me call you mine.” The blush was obvious on your face, immediately turning a light red shade, nodding your head he pulled you into a soft kiss. 

—---------------------------------------------

A few weeks later you were out to dinner with a few close friends and Trevor. Currently trying to tell a story about one of your new coworkers and how you didn’t like him but mid sentence you froze. Trevor had yet to see you freeze because the word you planned to say completely escaped you. Of course this wasn’t new to your friends as they saw the familiar signs, the way in which you paused, your lips pursed in a questioning way, your hand coming up and shaking knowing it was on the tip of your tongue and you just couldn’t think of it or couldn’t pronounce it. 

What your friends weren’t used to was seeing Trevor respond to it. His response to you struggling made all of them share a glance in approval of his small action. He took your shaking hand and slipped it into his own. Immediately your small flustered expression on your face turns to him. Your friends couldn’t hear what you were saying between yourselves if you were even talking at all, but they could see the care in Trevors eyes and how your frustration seemed to melt away.

“Hi” he whispers only for you to hear after a couple seconds pass. 

A smile breaks out on your face. “Hi” 

“What are you trying to say?” repeating the same sentence that he asked you weeks ago when you asked him to get the milk out the fridge. 

“I can’t think of it.” a sigh leaving your lips. 

“Describe it.” His forehead resting on yours as you look into his eyes. 

“You know, like a red flag.” 

“Like in dating? So a slang term?” 

“I think.” Pausing for a few seconds for your brian to catch up. “But I know it’s not called a red flag, but it’s like it, I think, like when someone does something and immediately you're like ew.” 

“An ick?” he softly suggests. Immediately your mouth forms into an o-shape in shock, making his mouth twitch into the slightest smile. Kissing his check quickly and whispering a quick ‘thanks’ and turning back to your friends. 

“Okay so like this new dude thinks he can come in and just boss all me and my other co-workers around. That’s not even the worst part like not only is he lowkey sexist, he literally only wears highwaters, immediate ick…” Trevor sat there half listening to your story with a huge smile on his face, hand on your thigh drawing patterns subconsciously as he sipped on his drink. He loves listening to you talk, how you get lost in telling stories and he’s happy he was able to help you instead of you pushing it to the side like you did all those months ago. 

That’s how it is from that night on, anytime you text him and he can’t understand it, or you can’t think of a word, or butcher the pronunciation; he will simply turn to you and ask “What are you trying to say?” 

[muntitled]

Req - Something about Shotaro? Oh my god anything, your writing is just so????;!!;?$3

Maybe some smut on the toxic-ish side about how he appeals to be a loving boyfriend to your friends but behind closed doors he’s a lot more intimidating/manipulative, but you’re still just so weak for him (maybe even more so because of it???) and just can’t control yourself around him. Idk, I’m literally clueless but I just know I need that immaculate brain of yours combined with Taro!!!

Much love, and Happy New Year!!!

A/n: I'm not gonna lie... This took a good chunk of my sanity trying to write, I can only hope that you like it. Also happy new yearrr

𝗣𝗶𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁

Osaki Shotaro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Shotaro is your golden retriever boyfriend... until he isn't

Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Best friend!Sohee, Possessiveness, Slight Dark fic, Toxic!Relationship, Manipulation, Smut (+18) Dom!Shotaro, Fingering, Grinding, Choking, Teasing

Your shoulders are as rigid as two metal cinder blocks, keeping your head from rolling off onto the floor. Barbed wires twist with anxiety in the pit of your stomach because you know, despite the sunshine disposition, despite the smile, despite the glassy doe eyes, Shotaro is pissed, and he definitely wants you to know about it.

“I swear on my unborn child,” Sohee, your best friend (your best guy friend) exclaims over a mouthful of ramen, “Yours is the only man I'd ever let cook for me. The rest of the male population can choke.”

While Shotaro basks in Sohee's praises with a modest sunshine smile, you sigh under the pressure of your boyfriend's grip on your thigh as you swiftly say, “You're quite literally a member of said male population-”

Sohee lowers his chopsticks before assuming a vaguely threatening stance with his cheeks round and stuffed. “Begrudgingly,” he says, “Not by choice.” You do not laugh but you try to.

Sohee bounces up and down in his seat, seemingly oblivious to your nervousness and Shotaro's skillfully hidden vexation.

“This is why I needed you two to end up together.” Says Sohee, swinging his head towards you. “My Golden Retriever best friend,” he swings his head towards Shotaro, “And my Golden Retriever coworker-”

“It's getting late, Sohee-” Shotaro's voice is calm and his head is still tilted as he says, “Should I call your uber?” You gulp silently as Shotaro's hand rubs up and down your thigh in a dizzying motion.

“Not very Golden Retriever of you,” Sohee grumbles before slurping down the last of his soup, “But that's okay because you're perfect in everything else-”

“Are you trying to steal my boyfriend, Sohee?” You hope cracking a joke might alleviate some of the one sided tension only you seem to be aware of.

Despite the smile, Shotaro is having a very difficult time remaining patient, especially because he had plans. Before Sohee had hijacked your attention, Shotaro would venture to say that he was actually somewhat happy at the start of the evening… before he found himself sharing your time with your over exuberant best friend.

There was a lively, almost vibrant pep in his step when he got off work, despite the tiredness in his muscles. As Shotaro made his way down the corridor towards your apartment door, his head was bowed with his eyes glued on his phone.

Your whimpers resounded in the clarity of his headphones. He watched you cum around his fingers, absolutely transfixed- so transfixed he almost doesn't recognize movement in his periphery right when he reaches your front door.

Far too swiftly, Shotaro plastered a smile on his face as he paused the video, dropped his phone into his pocket and lowered his headphones before bowing to your elderly next door neighbour.

He muttered a polite “안녕하세요,” in greeting, and the tiny old woman responded just as amicably.

She, as well as every other person in your life is absolutely floored by his politeness.

“What a nice young man,” she said, as she continued her way down the corridor, leaving Shotaro chuckling to himself because the thoughts he was having were certainly kilometres off on what a nice young man should be thinking.

He could not help that he had been thinking about you the whole day. Not even just sexually. (Although he did miss your body terribly. Shotaro was absolutely obsessed with the way it worked: You were always so unmistakably pliant for him. Like clay). Even simply being this close to your space made his heart overblown with satisfaction. Your house had always been somewhat of a safety enclosure for him. His own little piece of peace away from the outside world.

As he inserted the password and turned the knob, Shotaro imagined how you'd be waiting for him after work by the door like you usually did. Swimming in his oversized shirt as you stood with your arms opened wide.

None of those things happened.

Shotaro trudged into your house, sweaty and physically defeated from another day of exerting himself with rigorous routine. The thought of melting into your arms had been the only thing keeping him vaguely upright, when all he wanted to do was collapse on a pile on the floor.

As he proceeded to kick his sneakers off at the door, Shotaro’s brain nearly short circuitrd at the sight of you standing before him… fully dressed.

Not for any reason beside the fact that he had hoped to find you dressed comfortably enough to touch each other while you both cuddled lazily on the couch.

He was not being unreasonable in his expectations.

“Are we supposed to be going somewhere?” Shotaro asked quizzically with his doe eyes widened in cute curiosity. He eyed your halter neck and maxi skirt with much discontent.

“Oh good! You're home! I actually have something to-” Before the words could escape your mouth, he immediately enclosed you in a hug that you drowned in.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured before splaying various sloppy kisses on the side of your face, “Couldn't stop thinking about you the whole day… your face-” A kiss, “Your mouth-” another kiss, “your boobs-”

“Taro, I have to tell you som-”

“God, I hate people!” he exclaimed above you with his arms falling to your hips.

“I shouldn't have to remind you that I count as people.” You jest in vague nervousness.

“When I say I hate people, never ever, do I mean you,” he whispered above you before patting your head down as if you were, less his human girlfriend and more something that went about its life on four legs.

“Do I count as people?”

Your shoulders stiffened and Shotaro's arms grew rigid as his head snapped up to look at your best friend- his co-worker.

Sohee makes his introduction behind you in the same outfit Shotaro saw him in at dance practice and he waved lightly.

Shotaro's shoulders sag infinitesimally but that smile on his face is all too permanent.

Sohee spinned around before mumbling, “Also I'd appreciate it if you two didn't hump each other out in the open for my viewing pleasure.”

Instead of actually feeling compelled to eat you now sit idly at the dinner table, picking and prodding at the ramen Shotaro has prepared for you all.

Your boyfriend's irritation is subtle and you could definitely miss it in the brightness of his overall countenance.

“I mean, it's not that I don't wanna be in a relationship- it's just that, seeing you two has inspired me… I guess you could say?” If it weren't for Shotaro's hand on your thigh you might have actually listened to the countless praises he dotes on Shotaro.

Praises about how good of a man he is. How perfect he is. How absolutely wonderful he must be for being able to put up with you.

All through the dinner, Sohee talks and talks, and you sit with your fingers curled around the end of the table, trying to stop yourself from not reacting to your boyfriend’s minstritations.

It is only when the dinner ends, and Shotaro escorts Sohee to the door, that you finally feel the first real signs of anxiety begin to solidify in your gut.

You're trying your best to load the plates into the dishwasher with a steady hand when you feel a daunting presence behind you. Evading eye contact, you swiftly and succinctly say, “I'm sorry. He had no where else to go-”

“He has a house. Try again.”

You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut at the coldness in his voice.

“He's my best friend, Shotaro,” you say with finality before straightening your spine and turning to face him. You’re both pressed on opposite ends of the kitchen. Both with your arms folded.

“I don't really like your friends.” He says.

“I don't think my friends should be your problem, is what I'm saying.” You clarify. “And anyway, I thought you’d like the fact that Sohee’s my friend.”

Shotaro Scoffs as he says, “I'd like it more if he didn't try to inject himself into our relationship, babe.” Shotaro's voice is incredibly calm, but his words are aimed like an arrow doused in poison, as he closes the distance between you two. Your attention is fixed on him as he lifts his hand to trace small lines on your exposed collar, and you nearly fight the urge to make your eyes flutter shut.

“Not to sound like a tired fucking cliche but, I'm just thinking about what's best for you-” That snaps you out of it.

“What's best for me or what's best for you?!" You exclaim before slapping his hand away.

If only you knew how badly that particular passive-aggressive action affected him. Shotaro crowds you against the counter as he pushes his front up against yours until he's quite literally peering down at you. You refuse to crane your neck back and look up at him.

He was being ridiculous.

“I'm not choosing between you or my friends, Taro-”

“You're so pretty, you know that?” His completey-out-of-left-field comment, especially layered with that sweet-as-honey voice of his, shoots straight to your core, and you grab the counter behind you for support. “And smart too,” he says, before trailing his hand down your arm, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Shotaro’s touch is not only sensual, but its molten fucking lava and it nearly has you melting into a puddle on the floor.

“So I trust you to make your own decisions.” He says, nodding with cute finality before lifting your face up by your chin.

“Taro…” Your heart resorts to frenzy, and your head flies backward when Shotaro drifts his fingers past the seams of your maxi skirt. His are fingers- quite literally making their descent down your underwear while you remain too dumb to do anything but say: “I-I knew Sohee before I knew you.”

He only pushes up against you further, letting his hand grip the side of your neck. “You really think now is a good time to throw that in my face?” He asked with a tilt of his head and his hand now sliding over your cunt.

“You're not wet,” he whispers, “Why aren't you wet?” Before you're ever able able to answer, Shotaro drops to his knees before picking up the ends of your billowing skirt and disappearing underneath the fabric. A torrid gasp escapes your throat when his warm breath skates over your cunt and you're once again throwing your head back in absolute ecstasy.

He pokes his head up from underneath your skirt, cute smile on display while his fingers massage your aching clit. “You're always so wet for me, baby," he says with a childish frown, "What's the matter, huh?” He tilts his head again. “Is it your friend?”

He asks casually, as if his middle finger was not easing its way past your entrance … as if he his fingers were not already drenched in your arousal in less than a minute. “Fuck, Shotaro-”

“Is it because of him?” He continues to ask, now fully moving his fingers in and out of yoy while he remained on his knees- gaze never once wavering. “I'm sorry, bunny,” He says with faux concern, “I didn't know Sohee meant so much to you!”

“F-Fuck Taro-”

At the sound of his name, Shotaro's other hand grips your thigh, only opening your legs wider to split you all the way open against his fingers rough minstriations. He alternates between his middle and index. Sometimes splitting you open with both, until you were thoroughly bucking forward, to the pace that he had set and you were chasing your own orgasm furiously.

“You look like you're gonna cum for me, baby!” He exclaims with big bright eyes and a wide open smile. Equal parts adorable and completely fucking manic.

“Ask me to cum,” he whispers, still looking up at you like you were the best toy he could've ever hope to get. “I control your body. I control every part of you.” He says, “So ask me-”

“Please, Taro!- P-Please can I come?” Your hands have long ago found purchase in his blonde locks and you squeeze your eyes shut, bucking into him at a frenzied pace.

“Look at how pretty you are when you're following orders!” He exclaims as if you truly were a child. “So pretty,” he’s absolutely mesmerising, “My pretty girl gets to cum all over my fingers-”

You've already jumped off the cliff, letting your hips stutter as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Shotaro's eyes appear almost pained by the sight in front of him. How easily you break for him. Whenever he wanted. You truly were in control of his entire being.

“G-God-” Your failed attempt at talking brings a wave of warmth over Shotaro's countenance, and he finds himself pleasantly satisfied once again. He lifts himself up to his full height.

“what a gorgeous girl,” he whispers before pushing his forehead against yours, “My gorgeous girl,” he murmurs before sliding his fingers - the fingers that were once inside you- past your trembling lips.

[yourstrulyrika]

rika <3 was wondering if u could write smth about leon reassuring reader? maybe she insecure, thinks that leon deserves someone better (ada maybe?)

you are sooo sweet to us all, i hope you are taking care of yourself!! xoxo

hello ♡ of course!! i actually love this concept, been thinking about this, so ofc! also love you too ♡ i’m glad all of you are following me!!

no warnings, pure fluff and comfort. heavy mentions of insecurity and mental struggles though. reader is hinted to be Leon’s mission partner, but not stated directly!! re4r!Leon :3

you’re insecure, to say the least. always thinking you’re not good enough, that you’re ugly, undeserving— and then there’s Leon. the most perfect man you laid your eyes on, and he’s your boyfriend. he loves you, more than life itself — but even when he tells you that, you don’t quite believe it. Leon is honest, sure, but what if he’s just saying this? what if he just doesn’t want to make you upset? those thoughts keep nagging your head. your mind is your own hell.

and there’s also Ada. Ada Wong — Leon has said so many times they don’t share anything, that he doesn’t like her that way.She’s just the part of his life he can’t get rid of—

and that mere sentence strengthened your doubts. it got worse. so much worse.

you saw her like once in your life, and the way Leon looks at her. you started thinking he loves her, doubts eating you alive. Ada is so much prettier, so much better, smarter, stronger— the list can go on. you hate it. what if Leon likes her more and is with you out of pity? after all, he knows Ada for long years right? You know about the kiss— he says it was just Ada using his feelings and all that. you did not believe him. not one fucking bit.

since then, your mind has created a whole new scenario that Leon doesn’t love you. you can’t help it. you started isolating yourself, closing yourself in your own world and not speaking to him. any attemps at conversation coming from Leon were futile. you just couldn’t find it in yourself to speak. why would he want to speak with you anyway? he has Ada, right? she’s so much better.

but, Leon was going insane. losing his damn mind over this. he knew something was going on. why won’t you talk to him? what’s going on— why are you so damn quiet? pushing him away? he feels so confused, but also so stressed out over this. what happened? what did he do wrong?

he tried talking to you, but you just.. won’t budge. and he feels so damn horrible. he just wants to wrap you in his arms and comfort you.

“Please, just speak to me. Baby? Please, I beg you. I love you, you know that, right?”

you hear his words, but you don’t respond. why can’t he just go away? obviously he’s lying.

but he just gets so damn frustrated. he’s growing fucking desperate. your doors are locked— not letting him in. but he won’t let you isolate yourself any further. he literally breaks down the door to reach you, finding you laying down on the bed.

he kneels down beside your bed, reaching out to take your hand in his. when you don’t reach back, he frowns, but doesn’t push any further. instead, he lets you have your own space.

“What’s going on? Please, talk to me. No matter how silly you think it is.” he’s genuine when saying this. he genuinely cares about you so damn much, wants you to be happy with him.

you hesitate to respond, mumbling out a single “Ada Wong.”

and it was enough to hit him with a damn reality check. you were insecure about Ada. you were always insecure, but surely Ada’s appearance didn’t help. the way he’s looking at you, so sweet and loving, it tells you he understands. he stands up, sitting on the bed to cup your cheeks.

“Oh baby. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.” that’s all he says while looking into your eyes to make sure you understand what he’s saying.

“I know what you think. I can see it right in your eyes. But please, don’t think she means anything to me. She’s a part of my past, sure, but she’s just the past. What matters is right now — and right now, you’re mine. I don’t feel anything towards Ada. That feeling left years ago. Please, let me prove it to you.” he says as he presses his lips to your forehead, interlocking your fingers together. you let him in, let him hold you. and he’s so damn happy over this — so desperate to reassure you.

“I missed holding you so much, princess. I love you, and only you. I’m all yours — everything I have, it’s also yours. My body, my heart, my soul belongs to you.” he whispers in your ear, laying down beside you, turning your position a little so you face him while he holds you.

“And I don’t want anyone else. No one. All I see is you. Everyone else just don’t matter to me. You’re all I want.” he’s peppering your face with little kisses, hoping you hear him out. he makes sure you fall asleep that night, in his arms. he’s holding you in his arms through the whole night, not letting go.

“There’s no one better than you. Not even Ada, Jill, Claire— no one. No. One.” he says this firmly, making sure you understand. or at least tries to get it into your head. he’s so hopelessly in love with you, literally could die for you. one could say he’s almost obsessed— in a way, he is. he thinks about you 24/7, even on his missions, when about to sleep, when training.

he falls asleep eventually, once you’re asleep— and when he wakes up, and sees you awake, he’s already all over you.

“Please, don’t leave me. Never leave.” he begs you; you can see how desperate he is. you never see him so open with his feelings. but he just can’t handle the thought of you leaving, he’s so damn terrified about this. looking at you with vulnerable, soft eyes, pleading you to understand. he loves you with his entire heart, and he means it.

“I won’t. I love you, too.”

you say, and that much is enough for him to pull you into a kiss. a deep, loving kiss where pours all his love into. it lasts until both of you are breathless, but even then, he doesn’t want to let go. lets you catch your breath, before pulling you into another kiss. locking your lips with his own, cupping your face. when he pulls away, he looks at you again, with a soft smile on his face.

“Let’s have a lazy day today, okay? I just want to pamper you, show you I love you so much. Just let me take care of you — I want to make sure you won’t ever doubt yourself over Ada again.”

[bookiezzz]

FOR THRICE I HATH RETURNED❗️❗️ Hope you're doing good :3 for this request, I wanted to see if I could get some Headcanon's of OMORI's Kel, Undertale's Asriel (in young adult years if you don't mind writing him as if the buttercup tragedy didn't happen), & Dungeon Meshi's Laois with a younger brother reader! My thoughts were that reader's been getting very invested & skilled at painting recently, & he's made a spectacular portrait of his brother that's incredibly shy to show to him.

a/n: of course! im sorry this is so late, its been a super rough week for me, but i hope you enjoy!

Kel, Asriel and Laois with a younger brother reader

(who is particularly into painting!)

Kel

— Kel is like the #1 funnest older brother ever real

— He would love to hear you’re getting into painting and art! He would paint and draw with you, and always ask about it.. he’s pretty involved with all your activities.

— Always asking “any new paintings? any new drawings”, and always responds so positively to them, he truly loves them!

— he’ll compliment you on them and then give you a big hug !

— He would also encourage Sally and Hero to look at them as well :)

— So when you come to Kel, saying that you made a painting of him, he gets WILDLY ecstatic.

— in all honesty he would probably cry happy tears, so happy that you like him THAT much that you would paint him.

— But when he sees you’re a bit shy to show him, he’ll put his hand on your shoulder and tell you that he always loves your art! You’re so good at it!! and then you, cautiously, show him your painting of him.

— He smiles ear to ear and hugs you, just repeating thank you, and how good it is, and how he loves it <3

— If you let him, Kel would absolutely, 100000% hang it up in his room.

— He really loves this hobby and all of your paintings, and your talent!

Asriel

— im going to go a bit deltarune-esque on this one lmao

— Asriel is in college, but he still comes home very often to see you, his little brother, and Toriel <3

— He loves his family and doesn’t really like going long periods of time without seeing you both.

— So one day, he comes home and learns you’re into painting, when you excitedly show him a painting you’re working on in the common room!

— He laughs and smiles, saying it looks great. He never really knew you were that into painting; though you were always artsy.

— Asriel asks if you have any more paintings, and you take his hand, bringing him to your room to show him multiple paintings!

— he loves them, and he’ll talk to Toriel about them too!

— The next time Asriel comes home, you hug him and tell him you have a little surprise for him.

— you painted him! you just hoped he’d like it, as you worked really hard. Nonetheless, you were super nervous, trembling as you led your older brother to your room to show him.

— He just puts an arm around you, kneeling down, and telling you that he’s so excited, and that’s… weirdly soothing?

— You open your door and show him the amazing portrait, sitting on an easel.

— He gasps and blinks, a smile creeping onto his face as he kneels down to look at it intently.

— You’re watching nervously as he just looks all around it…

— he suddenly turns around and hugs you tightly! “Thank you.. I love this. This is a great way to come home!” Asriel whispers into your ear. You smile and hug tighter. “Please keep painting.”

Laios

— autism brother

— Laios is literally bouncing off the walls when you tell him you’re into painting. He’s super mega uber x100 excited.

— “THATS SOOOOO COOL”

— He would marvel over your paintings like no other, just admiring them!

— For the next few weeks, you’re working on a particular painting, and are very strict when you say Laois CAN’T see.

— He’ll just say, “Okay…”

— Until one day, you nervously blindfold him and take his hand into your room. You’re very nervous, but Laios’s goofy smile and excited laughs put you much more at ease.

— “1,2,3..” you untie the blindfold and Laios squeals and smiles, rushing over to the painting of him, in his armor.

— He starts talking about how much he loves it, straight up ranting, he says he loves you, and hugs you, multiple times!

— He’d show Falin and would be shaking her, saying: “THAT’S ME!!! ME!!!”

— he loves your paintings and you <3

[toythrob]

Too shy to slide in your dms but I need to get something off my chest. I saw how detailed your answer to the last ask about edging regiment was (that wasn't me btw) but it made me believe you'd be the best person to approach

I'm extremely new to this side of Tumblr. I literally didn't even know about edging until a month ago. I'm very interested in learning more about it. But, I've been cumming non stop since I had my first ever orgasm years ago. I've had like 3 orgasms a day at minimum. So it's not easy for me to just flip the switch and not cum again. I tried getting into edging myself but I'd literally end up cumming on the 3-4th edge.

I realised I needed actual guidance from someone, someone who can teach me and hold me accountable, so I made this Tumblr. Since then, I've encountered a few doms/mutuals who claimed they could help me in this journey. But their instructions were always "don't cum for the next 3 days", "don't touch yourself for a week" and punishments if I broke the rules. Obviously it went nowhere because i ended up cumming pretty quickly.

This is just leaving me more frustrated now. I know what I need, i need a schedule, i need someone to let me cum in the beginning and then slowly increase the gap between when I'm allowed to cum. Use my love for orgasms as a way to ease me into edging. But no dom seems to understand it.

Am i wrong for wanting this? Is this an absurd approach to even expect? am i just a failure at being an edgeslut?

Sorry if this is too long. Feel free to ignore if you don't want to respond, i totally don't mind!

- ✨

I‘m happy to hear from you. I’m sure that you’re not the only one in this situation, so I‘ll try my best to answer this in as much detail as possible as this could be helpful for others as well.

First of all, you’re not in the wrong at all and you‘re not a failure. Sometimes people can be too impatient or inconsiderate. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for you to start off slow, especially considering that you’re still quite new to all of this. You should always have fun and not feel like you’re being pushed to do anything.

I‘ve got a few ideas on how you could ease yourself into this and slowly increase the intensity.

For the beginning, it might be enough to try edging just once. Make sure to stop when you feel yourself getting close…it’s better to stop too soon rather than too late. Over time you will get a better feeling for how far you can push yourself before you inevitably cum. Then take a break for a minute in order to calm down again.

This might already be the point at which you want to reward yourself and make yourself cum. But depending on how you feel, you could also stop altogether and just go about your day (to practice being denied) or start over again with another edge (maybe pushing yourself just a little bit further this time). You could even see how long you can keep doing this and just edge again and again until you can’t control it anymore and finally cum.

I don’t know what the right starting point for you is. I could imagine that you might want to start increasing the number of edges first in order to get used to controlling yourself and stopping in time. Once you think that you’re comfortable with that, try denying yourself…for example start with a manageable amount of edges in the morning and wait until the evening to give yourself an orgasm (or maybe just a few hours if that’s too hard in the beginning). Next, try to increase the denial period and/or number of edges.

Regarding an exact plan, I’m not sure what the right approach for you is…that’s for you to decide. Especially after hearing about your experiences so far, I could understand if you wanted to start on your own and explore how far you can push yourself. Needless to say, it’s easier when someone else is in control and tells you what to do (as long as that’s reasonable). I‘m of course more than happy to help with that if you need it 😉 (communication is easier if you dm me but it’s not a problem if you want to keep this anonymous)

And don’t worry too much about the occasional accidental orgasm…you’re still very new to this and need to learn how your body reacts. As long as you’re not doing it on purpose, I don’t see a reason for such harsh punishments 😉

I hope that this was helpful for you. Let me know how you get on with edging and denial. As this is public, maybe also let others know what helped you and if you have some other useful tips and ideas for starting off.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: hi hello i wasn’t expecting to write barzy long fic but those damn musician mat photos KILLED me. also yes, i started this fic literally the day after the photos were posted but here we are. it needed major editing and also i need to like sit on it for a bit before posting. ANYWAY it’s here and i’m happy with it? i hate the title but whatever, it is what it is. enjoy and let me know what you think!! 🫶🏻

word count: 4.3k

tw: semi-public fingering but doesn’t go all the way, public thigh grinding

summary: hanging out in a dive bar on long island, the last thing you expect to see is mat with a guitar over his shoulder, joining the cover band on stage

When you look up from responding to a text and Mat’s nowhere to be found, you’re not really that surprised. He does this a lot - gets distracted and wanders off. Occasionally, he’ll be cornered by a fan, smiling gamely for a selfie and chatting for a bit. Every once in a while he gets roped into a game of pool, chatting with the random men like he’s known them for years. Once in a bar in the city, and this one nearly killed you, he struck up a conversation with Aaron Tveit - your favorite Broadway star and secretly a man that you absolutely would use a hall pass on - without realizing that he was talking to someone more famous in certain New York circles than he is.

All this to say, Mat disappearing in the bar isn’t a totally unprecedented occurrence.

You set your phone back down on the high top table and lean a shoulder against the wall next to you, crossing your legs at the ankle and taking a sip of your High Noon. It’s warm-ish now, starting to taste more artificial, and you look over your shoulder at the bar, scrutinizing the crowd that’s gathered and waiting for the bartender to notice them. It’s not worth it to leave the table since it’ll be snatched up in a second, so you flip your phone over and use your index finger to tap out a quick message to Mat asking him to get you another drink when he gets back from wherever he wandered off to - at this point you’re assuming there’s a major line for the men’s room. The little blue bubble floats up and shows it was delivered. Satisfied, you lean back against the wall, scooping your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand and holding it in a lazy ponytail so your neck can cool off a bit.

Long Island is a humid, swampy mess, August slipping away into a moment in time, as Queen Taylor says. But September is doing her damnedest to remind everyone that she’s still a summer month too.

Not that you mind, having been born and raised on Long Island and intimately familiar with the weather extremes, but it’s particularly gross in the bar tonight. Sweaty bodies packed in for the 90s alt cover band that’s supposed to be playing tonight. They’ve played at the bar before and they’re pretty good you have to admit, but right now you’re just wishing for a little bit of a breeze.

Giving up on your hair, you twist it up into a messy knot, securing it with a thin black elastic that’s seen better days. Three loops around thick hair, and you know it’s going to snap before the night is over, but you can’t worry about that now. There’s immediate relief from pulling your hair off your neck and now you can focus on the fact that Mat’s actually been missing for more than a few minutes. You tap your phone screen, looking for a message, but there’s nothing from him, just a few messages in the girls’ group chat talking about Monday night’s poker event. Wrinkling your nose, you look around the bar again, trying to see if you can spot your boyfriend.

It’s too dark though, Mat’s hair and black tee would blend in with the crowds. After a few more minutes of looking, you give up, rolling your eyes and muttering to yourself, “he better not have found Aaron Tveit again,” before taking another sip of your High Noon. The spark of grapefruit flavour hits the back of your tongue and you pinch your lips together, swiping at your lower lip with the tip of your tongue. Drops of condensation roll down the can, making your hand wet and you wipe your palm on the fabric of your dress, already a little sticky with sweat.

Bored without Mat, you reply to the group chat and scroll through Instagram, double tapping on a photo Sofia posted of Olivia and commenting a string of heart eyes emojis. While you’re on your phone, the band takes the stage, a group of older men that have clearly been on the circuit for a while now. You start to swipe over to the phone app, ready to call Mat and find out where he went, when another man comes out onto the stage - this one much younger, much more handsome, and much more familiar to you.

“What?” The shocked gasp falls out of your mouth and either you’re louder than you thought or Mat just has radar to tell where you are at any given moment, because he looks over as he’s adjusting the guitar strap on his shoulder and winks at you, his mouth curling up in that familiar cocky smirk you know and love.

Mat’s been fooling around on the guitar for years now and he’s gotten half-way decent in that time, but you had no idea he was feeling confident enough to play in front of a packed bar. Or that he knew the band well enough to ask or be asked to join.

The lights over the stage dim and brighten simultaneously and the band gets into position, drumsticks clicking together to signify the start of the set. In your excitement and rush to grab your phone so you can record Mat, you nearly knock over your drink, catching it at the last second. Mat grins at you again and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, looking down at the guitar to position his fingers. You cover your mouth with your free hand to muffle the excited noises that start when the band begins to play - you want to make sure that the video you record has Mat’s playing, not your squeaks and cheers. He looks a little nervous at the start, focused intently on her fingers and the guitar strings, but as the song goes on, Mat gets more into it and relaxes.

The phone shakes in your hand a little from your excitement and the inevitability of you bouncing a bit on the balls of your feet as you get into the music too. Mat’s hair falls over his forehead and curls around his ears, long at his neck, and a flush of heat spreads through your stomach. He’s stupidly attractive up on stage, playing his guitar, and you’re ready to jump him. You lean up a little on your toes to get a better angle, the hem of your dress fluttering around your thighs. Mat looks up while he plays and spots you again. You move your hand from your mouth and grin brightly at him. He responds with another delighted smirk, shaking his hair out of his face.

Around you, the crowd is into the cover, singing along when they know the lyrics and dancing in that lazy way people dance in dive bars. You catch a few mentions of Mat’s name, eyes landing on a handful of younger girls that are staring openly at him and recording. You bite down on your lower lip to prevent the self-satisfied smirk from forming. There’s something extremely satisfying knowing that all these girls are thirsting over Mat, but you get to go home with him.

Mat shakes his hair back again and scrunches his nose up while he plays and the girl closest to you nearly yelps, “fuck, he’s so hot with that hair.”

Her friend chimes in with, “it’s giving Nathan Scott season four minus the depression.”

The first girl replies, “it’s going to be such a crime when he has to cut it for the season.” She’s not wrong - you always hate when Mat does the Lou-approved chop at the end of the summer.

You muffle a laugh behind your hand and focus on Mat’s playing. The song winds down and his grin is immediate and genuine. He shakes the hands of each of the guys and claps them on the back before wandering off the stage. You stop the recording and set your phone back down on the table, clapping and cheering along with the crowd. The band starts back up again and you bounce on the balls of your feet, waiting for Mat to find you.

He ducks through the crowds, still grinning, and appears in front of you suddenly. Before he can say a word, you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck and slanting your lips over his. One of Mat’s arms wraps around your lower back, holding you flush against the front of his body. You grin against his mouth - he tastes like peach flavored High Noon, chapstick, and the salt of his sweat. Mat’s tongue swipes against your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and you do, deepening the kiss and twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently. He groans against your mouth, the sound swallowed up by your lips. The kiss lingers and fades out as you pull back for air, but then Mat ducks forward and kisses you softly. Your forehead rests against his and you exhale a little giggle.

“Hi, babe,” he laughs, whole face crinkled up in delight when he pulls back, one arm still looped around your waist. You can feel his hand tremble against your waist, betraying nerves or leftover adrenaline from his stint on stage.

“Oh my god! You loser!” You laugh, pushing at his shoulder with the palm of your hand. Mat grabs your wrist with lightning quick reflexes and flexes his fingers around your wrist, tightening gently before he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss your pulse point. Your breath stutters in your chest, but you continue, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to play!”

Still holding your wrist, Mat steps closer and shakes his head. “I wasn’t planning on it. I went to the bathroom, sort of got talking with the band,” he shrugs, “it just happened.”

“It just happened!” you echo on a laugh. “Well you were amazing.”

“Thanks,” Mat ducks his head, ears going a little pink underneath his hair. He releases your wrist and scrapes his hand through his hair, the sweaty strands holding in place. Your back bumps against the wall and you realize Mat’s still crowding your body, one muscled thigh in between your legs. You hook an ankle around his, dragging his leg a little closer and the faint smile on his lips becomes more salacious, hungry. He leans his hand against the wall next to your head, caging you in. Your stomach flips and heat coils low, throbbing between your legs.

Your tongue darts out and licks your lower lip and Mat’s gaze traces the movement, eyes darkening in a familiar way. His palm is flat over the curve of your hip, but his fingers curl up a little, capturing the cotton fabric of your dress and tugging the fabric up a little. A flutter of a breeze hits your upper thigh.

“Maybe you should quit hockey,” you giggle a little, blinking lazily, “and play guitar full time.”

“Yeah?” Mat raises an eyebrow. “Don’t think amateur guitar playing is as lucrative as professional hockey.” His fingers twist in your dress more, making you glad that he has you backed against the wall and blocked with his body. He leans in, pressing his leg against your inner thigh, knocking it out an inch or so, widening your stance. Your entire body flushes with heat and it has nothing to do with the humid bar atmosphere.

Your head lolls back, hitting lightly against the wall, and you hum. “It’s really fucking hot though,” you murmur, tipping your head up so you can press a kiss to the edge of his chin. “All that fingering,” you giggle the innuendo, finding it cheesy even as you say it.

Mat huffs a laugh against your temple. His fingers loosen their grip in the fabric of your dress, letting the damp and sure to be wrinkled fabric fall back against your thigh. “I already have a fingering side-gig,” he informs you, his hand slipping underneath the hem of your dress. He presses the pads of his fingers up against the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp, jolting your hips forward. He strokes the fabric slowly, dropping kisses against your temple and down the side of your face. He works you over through the fabric, sticky arousal collecting between your legs. The lace surely can’t be doing much at this point and Mat’s fingers slide over your inner thighs. His calloused fingertips catch and snag on the lace, stuttering his work and making your clit throb.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna let you touch me after that line,” you laugh, choking off into a little gasp when Mat snaps the elastic of your panties against the crease of your thigh.

“You started it,” he reminds you, a cocky smirk gracing his lips. His forehead touches yours as his fingers continue their exploration, trailing up and dipping under the waistband of your panties. Your stomach clenches when he stops inches from where you really want him and you bump his nose with yours. “You’re not supposed to start things you can’t finish,” he warns, pressing closer to you, sliding his fingers lower. Your skin is hot, sweat beading at your hairline from the effort of keeping your legs from trembling.

You let out a harsh exhale. “Mat,” you mumble his name, grabbing at his wrist with both hands, trying to force his hand lower. He shakes his head against yours and doesn’t budge, your muscle strength no match for his. “We’re in public.” As if to punctuate your sentence, the drummer goes into a solo, the beat of the sticks on the drums pounding in time with your heart.

His fingers curl briefly and then they’re gone, leaving you cold and hot and frustrated. “Okay,” he says, shrugging. There’s an infuriating smirk on his face when you manage to look up. “I’ll behave.” He flips the hem of your dress down and smooths his palm over the fabric.

“I…what…Mat!” You stutter, the throbbing between your legs pounding in time with your heart. “You can’t just…” your voice trails off and you press your thighs together - or try to at least - Mat’s muscled leg is still in between yours and prevents you from giving yourself any relief.

Your absolute menace of a boyfriend holds his index finger - the one that had just been making a home in between your legs and is still wet with your arousal - up to his lips and shushes you. “Shh, I’m trying to listen to the music,” he smirks, sliding his other hand down the wall behind you and wrapping it around your shoulders, easily manhandling you so your back is leaning against his chest while he leans against the wall. You’re so stunned by the delayed pleasure that you don’t resist at all. Mat reaches around you and picks up your half-empty High Noon and knocks it back, holding the can lightly and sliding his arm from around your shoulders to wrap around your waist, forearm pressed against your stomach. His broad palm rests on your opposite hip, blunt nails scratching lightly and absently.

He hums along to the music in your ear and you sink back against his chest, still frustrated, muttering, “I can’t believe you shushed me.” Mat exhales a little laugh and kisses the side of your neck, scraping his teeth against your pulse point. Your head suddenly feels too heavy for your neck and you drop it back against his shoulder, giving Mat easier access to kiss your cheekbone. “Take me home,” you whine quietly, silently willing Mat’s hand to drift lower, but it remains stubbornly planted on the jut of your hip bone.

Mat’s nose bumps against your temple and you catch the scent of his cologne, mixed with the citrusy sweet alcoholic scent of the High Noon on his breath. He lazily rolls his hips forward, the hard bulge of his erection pressing against the curve of your ass. You grind back against him, whining low in the back of your throat. “Mat, please, I wanna go home,” you mumble, the vibration of the music rattling through your chest. Your hands wrap around Mat’s forearm, squeezing. “C’mon, take me to bed.”

“Babe,” Mat’s arm tightens around you, pulling you harder against his erection. You push your ass into him again, nearly grinding over the thigh that’s still in between your legs, desperate for relief. He holds you in place. “Thought we were in public?” His voice is slightly strangled, his breathing hitching when you press back harder, slipping a hand behind your back and in between your bodies. It takes a second, but you manage to wiggle your hand into place, pressing the heel of your palm, hard, against the fly of his jeans. Mat sucks in a sharp breath and he pinches your hip in warning, his head dipping down and his teeth sinking into the side of your neck in a matching warning nip. You hiss at the sting of his teeth, knowing there’s going to be a mark there in the morning when he sucks gently at the spot, tracing his tongue over the faint impressions of his teeth.

“We don’t have to be,” you murmur, brushing your knuckles against the ridge of his erection. “You have a very nice car that can get us home in twenty minutes.”

Mat’s breath is harsh in your ear, the empty can in his hand making a crunching noise when he crumples it in his fist. Your arm is starting to go a little numb, twisted behind your back and pressed in between your bodies, and you’re desperately hoping Mat gives up and gives in to what you want soon. His hand flexes over your hip and you grind down on his thigh again, hiccuping a breath at the drag of his jeans and your lacy panties over your swollen clit. Faintly, you wonder if you’re causing a scene, if people are watching you both, but Mat’s hands aren’t anywhere they shouldn’t be and your grind on his thigh could easily be mistaken for drunken dancing.

“Think you can wait twenty minutes, babe?” Mat jerks his hips into your ass, tossing the can back onto the table top and wrapping his other arm around your stomach so you’re caged against him. You wiggle your hand out from behind your back just before it’s completely lost feeling. “Moving pretty good on my thigh,” he bounces it lightly, sending shockwaves up your spine. “Think you could get off like this?”

Yes, is your immediate thought.

You have and can use Mat’s thick, muscled thigh to get yourself off. Most recently two nights ago, lazily grinding yourself over him on the couch while half-heartedly watching a movie. But tonight, with alcohol and lust fogging your brain and the image of Mat’s capable fingers working the guitar strings, you don’t want his thigh.

“Wan’ your fingers,” you turn your head and press the tip of your nose against the side of his neck, nuzzling him. He smells so fucking good. Mat chuckles, kissing your forehead. “You’re so good with your fingers.” Your hands cross your stomach, covering his hands, and you play with his fingers, lacing them with yours.

“You’re good at getting what you want,” Mat grins and you can feel the lift of his cheek against the side of your head. He squeezes you in a hug once, tightly, before loosening his grip. “You gotta walk in front of me to the car, babe. Hide the evidence of what you do to me, don’t wanna get in trouble.”

Your heart kicks up its tempo in your chest and you lift your head from Mat’s shoulder. “Home?” You ask brightly, wiggling and turning in Mat’s arms, your own coming up to loop around his neck.

“Yeah, home,” he laughs, smirking, cupping your cheek with one large hand and dragging your face up to his for a deep kiss. His hips roll mindlessly against yours and you lift higher on your toes to press flush against him, the throbbing between your legs building. When he breaks the kiss off, there’s a mischievous little gleam in his eyes and a slightly mean curl to his lips. “But you don’t get to touch. I’m gonna practice on you, okay, babe?” He taps his fingertips against your cheek, “just these. Gonna practice my finger placement.” Mat’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust, obscuring the usual hazel-green color.

Your head bobbles up and down in an agreeable nod. You’ll agree to almost anything just to get Mat’s fingers inside your throbbing cunt. You also know that he’s a total softie and as much as he tries to act stern and tough, once you get into bed with him it’s only a matter of time before he gives up the act and gives you whatever you want. Honestly, you’re both too horny for each other to really commit to the bit. Plus, you roll your hips up into Mat’s, based on the rock hard erection he’s sporting, you’re not even sure Mat’ll be able to keep to the promise of giving you only his fingers.

His hand slides back from your cheek and tangles in the messy bun knotted at the nape of your neck, gently pulling so your face tilts up. “Let’s get out of here,” he grins, kissing the corner of your mouth and turning you around swiftly, one hand resting on your lower back to push you in front of him and through the crowd. You reach back and tangle your fingers with his free hand, a zap of excitement running up your spine when Mat’s hand slides lower and grabs a handful of your ass.

You’re navigating the crowd with Mat hot on your heels, purposely stepping on the backs of your sandals and laughing when you whip your head around to glare at him. His hand flexes against your lower back, warm through the cotton, and he uses his hand in yours to pull you back slightly so your ass bumps against his groin. “Gotta move a little faster, babe,” he teases.

“You’re a fucking menace, Mathew,” you grumble, a laugh startling out of your chest when Mat finally urges you out the front door and crowds you up against the front of the bar. Heat pools low in your stomach and you lick your lower lip reflexively. Mat grins down at you and ruffles a hand through his hair. It’s messy, the little wings sticking out around his ears and neck, and all you want to do is tangle your fingers in it and pull while he eats you out. And you tell him so, watching with delight as his eyes glaze over a little and his mouth goes slack.

“Why the fuck are we still standing here then?” He asks, voice a little strangled.

A giggle slips past your lips. “You tell me, Van Halen.” Your hands slide up Mat’s arms and over his shoulders so your fingers can twist in his hair. Mat hisses when you tug gently. “Why aren’t we in the car or at home where you can get those talented fingers knuckle deep in me?”

Mat groans your name and drops his forehead to your shoulder, growling a little against your overheated skin. His hands slide to your waist, gripping tightly. You grin wickedly, even though he can’t see it, and tug his hair again. “If you get me home soon, I’ll show off my skills,” you murmur into his ear, tongue darting out to trace the shell of his ear.

“Fuck,” Mat grunts, grabbing your hand and nearly yanking your shoulder out of its socket with the force of pulling you down the street to his parked car. Your giggles echo around the quiet street, the humid air enveloping you and making your hair frizz around your temples. At the car, Mat pushes you up against the side, grasping your chin in one hand and kisses you, hard and bruising, his tongue dipping in your mouth. His other hand slides up your dress and he presses his thumb against your clit, the rasp of the lace on your clit providing extra simulation. Your knees go weak and you moan into his mouth, flattening your palms against the side of the car for stability. A rush of heat floods between your legs and the longer Mat’s lips are on yours, the wetter you get. At this point you’re not sure if it’s sweat or arousal that’s dripping down the inside of your thighs. He slides his tongue over your lower lip and rubs his fingers against your damp panties again, eliciting a strangled noise from the back of your throat.

When Mat breaks the kiss, pulling back from your face and breathing heavily, you blink up at him, completely dazed and lust drunk. He kisses the tip of your nose and squeezes the inside of your thigh and you giggle, unable to stop the words from slipping out of your mouth, “are you gonna play Wonderwall before or after I get my orgasms?”

A laugh barks out of Mat’s mouth and he pinches your ass cheek, making you squeal. “Just for that, it’s gonna be before,” he laughs again, reaching behind you to pull open the passenger door. You fold into the seat, making sure to flash Mat a little before yanking the door shut and grinning at him from behind the window.

“Who’s the menace now, babe?” Mat sticks his tongue out at you, laughing, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Still you,” you tease back, wrinkling your nose at him, knowing he’s going to be so worked up the more you poke fun at him. “Now get in the car, I’m gonna put Wonderwall on so we can get straight to the fingering practice when we get home.”

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Five

The thing is I absolutely love the album that comes out of this mess. Like I know a lot of people do not like Let It Be, but so many of my favorite songs are on it. One of them being “I Me Mine.” The walz element is haunting, and I can read the lyrics as anti-capitalist even though George himself mostly wasn’t. 

Laughing my head off at two boys from one of the best grammar schools in England, who have at this point made millions off of their writing, genuinely not knowing whether it should be “more freer” or “more freely”

The difference in how George shows Paul his new song vs John is striking. For Paul, he’s relaxed, nonchalant. For John, he stands up and performs it. And I think both are a defense mechanism, poor baby, because clearly, although Paul was very supportive of the song while they were alone, when John is roasting it, Paul just laughs along and George has to go “I don’t give a fuck whether you like it.” 

Ah, the famous “up-against-a-wall” conversation. Paul comes in all dominant and sure. “Haven’t you written anything else? Haven’t you?” But then John touches him, and makes him laugh, and Paul’s a melted, goo-goo-eyes mess. This is the real reason why John got to be the leader isn’t it? Because Paul was too damn soft on him to ever follow through with his bossiness.

Their scouse sounds BEAUTIFUL compared to the stupid ugly RP and MLH’s transatlantic shit.

“And now John’d like to say a few words on the subject.” John starts singing, Paul strums along and joins in on the “chorus.” They can’t communicate like healthy people, but they Can do this. 

So Peter Jackson took out Paul’s bitchy nod at Yoko as he’s stealing her man in real time right in front of her eyes. Unforgivable. But he kept in this adorable laugh, so that’s something. 

Three more covers that I think *mean something* “Stand By Me” and “Spinning Like a Top” by Paul, followed by “You Win Again” by John. Yoko’s sweet little shoulder kiss. Thank you for taking care of the poor wet kitten, girly. Maybe don’t introduce the poor wet kitten to heroine, but you do you, I guess. (OP recognizes that poor wet kitten is also an adult capable of making his own decisions)

The cut from Paul literally dancing to get John’s attention straight to John dancing with Yoko while inside Paul’s head a silver hammer is clanging ominously. I can’t. Followed by the knowing, loving smile from Ringo to Paul. You know, those moments when you validate your friend’s bitchy thoughts with a look. 

George is literally SO big inside himself, you know? You have to have superhuman self-love abilities to watch your friend – who is supposed to be helping you – shamelessly make fun of your art . . . and just “Do you wanna do that walz on the show? That’d be great.”

But did you guys know John was actually a really great mover?

“Yes, alright. Just sod off.” I love John. Paul’s people-pleasing ass would literally die first and he needs John to do this kind of shit for him and John’s only too happy to.

The moment when Paul and John are on the same wavelength about Dennis O’Dell’s stage. 

OK but. Did John get the clear plastic idea from Yoko’s art exhibits? 

“Any time we do anything it’s always got to be the best.” Poor Ringo. They’re all literally so tired of carrying so much weight for such a long time. 

“See, I’d watch an hour of him just playing the piano. Cause he’s so great.” With that fond, loving, smile. SUCH big dick energy here. The others could NEVER. 

“And I’ll have the plastic when you’re finished.” Literally for what, though? John, you little hoarding goblin. 

And then Ringo responding to MLH’s “I love you” with “Yes, I love you too.” Yeah, Ringo wins the prize for most healthy beatle of the day. 

*Pattie Boyd voice* “I just wish I knew what was going on there. But something. Something.”

Ugh, John looks so hurt. So tender. So heartbroken. While Paul is over there playing a damn funeral march because that’s the only way he lets himself express anything. But I actually love how Dennis O’Dell knows the clearest path to cheering John up is to say that Paul liked his idea. And how well it works. They’re literally so obvious to everyone but themselves. 

I love the bit when John walks in on the rest of them discussing the live show and MLH calls, “We’ve decided. We’re going to Africa.” And Paul hurries to cut in, “No we’re NOT.” Because he knows exactly how John can get and he’s going to nip this in the bud before John gets let down. And of course, John is all “YEAH LETS GO LETS GO!” And he’s talking about how they always wish they were recording abroad. “We could be in LA, or FRANCE.” (side eye emoji) 

Paul’s “Well said, John.” and “I’ve seen it, John. I went to the premiere. I thought you were great.” Why do all your compliments to him have to be in silly voices? Like, I know you think everyone is going to call you a pussy for saying something genuinely kind to your best friend, but they’re not, and he needs it. 

Holy shit this was a long day. See you all tomorrow with another long-winded-ass post.

[sarahmouches]

˚•｡౨ Wasteland, Baby! ৎ˚⋅ A Yuuji Itadori Fanfic

✩ Sum. A Yuuji Itadori Modern AU where Yuuji is a professional Volleyball player and reader is a nurse! It will be a pretty short, close friends to lovers story, and this is chapter 1!

✩ wc: 1.4k

✩ an: This is not proof-read, but I hope it pleases nonetheless! When reading, if you have any tips or corrections, feel free to comment them! :) (also ignore the title change lol I feel like it fit their soft love more)

10:57 at night and just over an hour till the end of your Thursday night shift, you release a heaving sigh as you look into the bathroom mirror and adjust the annoyingly messy bun in your hair. “C’mon girl,” says Nobara Kugisaki, your closest friend since college. “you only have an hour till the end of your shift, I still have three!” She says with an exaggerated pout and deeply furrowed brows.

“You’re right.” you respond with a light smile, turning your head toward your burnette companion, “Plus, we’ve been through worse.” you say with a smirk in your voice, a shudder running through you both as you think back on the old-man-and-the-bathroom incident (that unfortunately happened many times in a row). Just as you guys finish laughing to yourselves like lunatics, Nobara’s girlfriend and another one of your friends, Maki Zenin enters the bathroom. 

She smirks a little at both girls' state  before saying “(Y/n), Kugi, they need you down in the E.R.” and her smirk only grows as both you and Nobara groan in tandem. “Why is it always us?” Nobara grumbles as she reties her already short hair. “Honestly!” you agree firmly. “And Isn’t Fushiguro also on this shift? Sexism.” You joke with a false serious face, sending all three of you into a fit of laughter.

 Exiting the bathroom, Maki gives her girlfriend a peck on the cheek and squeeze of the waist before parting ways. Now walking to your new destination of the E.R., you chuckle to Nobara and say “God you guys really do make me feel single.” and you can see the faint tint of blush color her cheeks. “She really is sweet, isn’t she.” Nobara gushes with a little squeal and you can’t help but smile at your friend's happiness.

Stopping in front of the elevator, Nobara turns and says “Wait a minute, didn’t you literally have a date like two days ago? How did that go?” As the door chimes and opens, you step in and say “It was okay, I guess. He was pretty basic, and he stared at my tits the whole time.” You say with a sigh. “Geez I would too” Nobara playfully murmurs, a smirk growing on her face. You lightly punch her arm and say “Nobara!” but can’t suppress the smirk that mirrors her own. 

“Seriously, I don’t think you’ve been pleased with a single date in the past two years, who raised your standards so high?” Nobara teases with a playful jab, but you can’t help but think of honey brown eyes and cotton candy hair. Gentle whispers of touch, reassurance, fleeting years. What about him didn’t raise your standards would be a better question, but you don’t mention it. “Oh I don’t know, romance novels I guess.” you reply with a pasted on smile. 

“Whatcha reading?” He drags the ‘a’ as he plops down onto the bed right next to you. “Just another ‘corny romance’ ”you say, faking his deeper tone of voice when you do. You knew that deep down he secretly loved romance novels and all your rants about them, you even caught him reading “The Notebook” once. Knowing his sweet secret had been found, he promptly begged you not to tell anyone. Now in the fading light, he gives a signature, but gentle, smile as he leans back on the headboard and says “Wanna tell me about it?” with nothing but love in his deep brown eyes.

Walking through the doors of the E.R., you and Nobara split ways and you promise to say bye to her before leaving for home. Someone hands you the chart for your first patient, a young girl who is experiencing pain in her arm and side. Breathing in through your nose, you whisper words of encouragement to yourself and get to work.

It's 11:41, barely twenty minutes before your shift’s end, when you stop in your tracks. Patient name, Yuuji Itadori, Age, twenty-four. You practically feel your heart beat out of your chest but tell yourself that there are many people with the same name…right? Supposedly, the man was bleeding from a cut on his head and bruised all around, with fingers beaten up and knuckles bloody. You can’t help but wonder what the man got into, but you’re also silently praying the man isn’t who you suspect it may be. 

Entering the specified room, you hear the sounds of laughter mixed with the unfamiliar voice of a man saying “You’re really fucking dumb for this y’know, did you even think before you swung?” And before someone can reply, you’re pulling back the curtain separating yourself from the men and your heart drops to your stomach. The man sitting on the bed looks up at you, disturbingly familiar brown eyes meeting your own. You gulp before managing to say “Y-yuuji Itadori?” and you can feel your hands shake.

Yuuji only blinks before saying “Todo, can you leave the room? Like, now.”, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. The man, Todo, gives him a strange look but follows the order silently, even closing the door behind him. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and before you can say anything, your ears perk up at the sound of his now timid and quiet voice. “You remember me, right?”, honeyed eyes still not leaving yours.

Your brows furrow as you say “Who wouldn’t?”, your own voice fails you as it cracks helplessly, and suddenly, you feel young again. Yuuji stands and wordlessly wraps his arms around you, burying his beat up face into your hair. You reciprocate the gesture, breathing in the familiar scent of light citrus and a mix of something like fabric softener and sweat. Finally letting go, you smile slightly at each other before Yuuji clears his throat and says, “Well, uhm, how have you been?” and you know this is going to be the start of some ironically deep small talk. 

“Pretty great actually, yourself?” You ask, knowing damn well you stalk his account every other week. “Amazing” he replies with a broader smile, sitting back down on the bed. “Volleyball actually took me somewhere, can you believe it?” he says, breathing out quickly. “I can, you were insane back in highschool,” you say, already opening with where everything closed. “Plus, I’ve watched a good amount of your matches.” you add with a smile mirroring his own proud one. 

You see his eyes soften as he says “Good, that’s good.” a hint of longing present as he speaks. After a beat of silence you turn your attention to your clipboard and say “We can talk more in a minute, but we need to get you checked out.” you say with a little nod. “And, you’re my last patient for the night.” you add on with a grin. He returns your smile, and answers your next questions with intense focus and little teases.

11:57, exiting the room, Yuuji at your side, you say “Okay, my shift literally ends right now, let me turn in your clipboard and then we can head out. You head to the reception desk.” With dimming laughter, Itadori replies “Sure, just promise you’ll actually meet me outside?” he asks. “Promise” you assure before turning and walking away from him. Handing the charts to a regular E.R. worker, you turn your attention to the automatic sliding doors just in time to see someone with pink hair exit, alongside the taller man you now know as Todo. Smiling at the sight, you head up to your office space where you see Nobara sitting down, scrolling on her phone. 

Practically shaking her shoulders you say “Very important things are happening right now!” Now gathering your purse and personal items you say “Good things!” and quickly zip up your sweater. Nobara blinks in confusion and simply ends up saying “Debrief tomorrow?”, a smile growing on her face. You beam back at her and nod, rushing for the door and she yells after you, “Good luck!”

At hearing the whirr of the electric doors sliding open, Itadori picks up his head and turns to you. “Ready to go," he asks with a smile that manages to warm you despite the chilling weather. You reply with a simple “Always” as you start to walk down the night streets of the city, realization bursts in your chest that he’s back, and he’s right in front of you, and you’re going to do something about it.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks

hi!! i'm back lol - well, the craziness at work is done and I'm slowly getting back to writing bc I haven't written in like a week and it's killing me lol (this is gonna sound dramatic but I literally don't feel like myself if I don't write for too long haha) I don't have anything new to share rn, but I figured since it's already december and since some of y'all are sharing Christmas fics, and knowing I likely won't write one this year, I'm gonna shamelessly plug my holiday fake dating fic with 4 Christmases and 6 Christmas chapters actually 😂 (Christmas was a very important time for Buck and Eddie's relationship in this lol) - there's obvi more holidays in this but anyway, here's a snippet of their first Christmas together also, it's been a year since I posted the first chapter and I'm feeling nostalgic lol, this fic is my baby and I love it so much (tho there's so many things I'd change now lol)

[read on Ao3]

___

Turns out, Buck is very much serious about the whole thing, and Christopher finds it hilarious and is eager to play along. Eddie doesn’t have valid arguments not to do it, and it’s not like he doesn’t want to. After another snide comment when talking to his parents, he made his decision. And he already felt this exciting feeling of satisfaction when he told them he’d be bringing someone for Christmas this year – miraculously, Buck and Eddie don’t work on Christmas, and they took an additional day off, so their schedules allow for a three-day trip to Texas. 

So now, it’s Christmas Eve and they’re on their way from the airport to Eddie’s childhood home, and he’s nervous, doubts just starting to seep in. What on earth possessed him to do this? He can’t lie to his family. He can’t pretend to be in love with Buck. What if he really does fall in love with him? What if everything goes to shit? He’s watched enough movies to know it’s a bad idea, but he couldn’t and still can’t bring himself to stop it.

“So.” Eddie says, his voice shaking slightly, as they sit in a cab. “We’re doing this.”

“Yep.” he can hear Buck grin next to him. “Unless you still wanna back out?” he adds quickly. They could still say Buck’s just a friend. No big deal. But Eddie does have this petty desire to stir something up, and this seems perfect. 

“No. It’ll be fine.” he smiles at Buck, and then feels hot when Buck grabs his hand and interlaces their fingers, winking at him. Christopher laughs.

“You’d make a great couple.” he comments. He’s been unusually happy about all of this. He also asked Eddie a few days ago if Eddie loves Buck, which prompted a conversation, but he thinks Chris knows what’s going on now. Eddie doesn’t really know what to think about that.

“Thanks, buddy.” Buck responds excitedly, squeezing Eddie’s hand, and he can’t contain a smile. If not anything else, at least all three of them are going to have a lot of fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1

[evanbuckleyrecs]

Buddie AUs under 20k words

And as promised a few months ago, here is also a list of AU recommendations under 20k words.

Just like my post earlier about 20k+ fics, this list was made in March when I was originally supposed to post it, but life got in the way

Anyway, show these fics some love :)

Pumpkin patch kinda love by browney3dgirl5

12,1K words, rated G

“How much longer dad?”

“I’m sure they’re almost ready. Why don’t you hang out with your friends until it’s time?”

Christopher frowned. “Can you go ask dad, please?”

Eddie would rather do anything else, thanks. But, when your kid was your world, and his big puppy dog eyes were looking up to you, well—he was only human.

Eddie gave Chris’ shoulder a squeeze before looking around, spotting what looked to be a teacher. Well, they had a clipboard in their hands at least.

Walking toward the teacher like person, Eddie stopped as he got closer, clearing his throat.

“Um, excuse me, are you one of the teachers?”

The teacher turned around to face him, Eddie suddenly a little short on words.

“Oh yea, hi. I uh, I’m Mr. Buck.”

Of course he was.

—or—

During the halloween season, Eddie is introduced to Christophers teacher, the one with pretty blue eyes that he just can’t seem to stop running into

Yellow is your color by tizniz

4,8K words, rated G

The 118 responds to a call about a man stuck in a slide.

But I'm out of my head by markofalover

2,7K, rated G

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” Eddie asks, because maybe the nitrous is wearing off, or—

“Marry me,” Buck answers, quick and serious, face completely void of a smile. Just—right to the point.

...or, Buck has a dislocated shoulder and Eddie’s going to quit his job, or something.

Write me into your happy ending... by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie

16,7K, rated T

Four years ago when Eddie and Christopher started reading the book series about Daniel's Adventures together before bedtime, Eddie never would have guessed that he would run into the author of said book series in the middle of a Barnes & Noble in LA. He also wouldn't have guessed that said encounter would begin with him sternly lecturing the stranger and making a slight fool of himself. Nor would he have predicted that this terrible first impression would somehow make the published author want to give his phone number to Eddie.

Or, Eddie the firefighter and Buck the writer have a meet-cute, and things progress from there.

Stupid for you (you take my breath away) by prettyboybuckley

8,2K, rated E

"Officer, I need to report a crime," Buck says when he stops by one time, wearing a blue shirt that is quite literally fighting for its life. Eddie is surprised that none of the buttons have popped off yet.

He looks up with the most unimpressed look he can muster, raising an eyebrow as he waits for Buck to continue.

"Someone has stolen my heart."

OR: Eddie may or may not have a crush on the insanely hot firefighter who visits Athena at the precinct multiple times a week

Paw prints on your heart by elless

5,9K, Rated G

Buck runs a cat shelter, where he gets to save animals and make sure they go to loving homes. One day, an adorable little boy joins his volunteer team and changes Buck's life.

A touch of someone else (to save me from myself) by allyasavedtheday

19,3K, rated T

Of course, all of that comes to a grinding halt when he stops outside the locker room to find arguably one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen getting changed right by his locker.

He stands there, gaping and trying desperately to get his mind out of the gutter – but Jesus, those abs – when someone bumps his shoulder and he turns to find Hen sidling up to him.

“Enjoying the view?” she asks with a knowing smirk.

Buck raises an eyebrow, feeling the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk of his own. “He from B shift or something?”

Hen’s about to answer him when Bobby appears on his other side. “That’s Eddie Diaz, our new recruit.”

Buck’s brain does some approximation of a record scratch and he whirls around to face Bobby. “New recruit? Why?”

*

In which Eddie joins the 118 during season 1 instead of season 2 and Buck has a lot to say about it. AKA Eddie meets Buck 1.0.

Frequent flyer by whileyouresleeping

13,4K, rated M

In his entire time being a firefighter, Eddie has never met anyone as accident-prone as Evan Buckley. And Buck - well, he's quickly becoming the 118's best customer.

(Or - the one where Eddie is a firefighter, Buck isn't, and Eddie finds himself rescuing Buck from increasingly sticky situations. Sometimes literally.)

"How many fingers am I holding up" by Pansys_goth_gf

2,3K, rated M

Apollo speaks, and to Eddie’s utter delight his voice is low and smooth. “Hey, welcome back, Diaz. Eyes on me, okay? Tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Eddie doesn’t even look for the fingers, or tries to count them. He manages to gently press one gloved hand to the God’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

Or; Eddie is a professional boxer, gets hit, and falls (in more ways than one)

Break my heart (or bring it back to life) by MonsterRae1

11,2K, rated E

“Have you seen this?” Sophia asked him, handing him over her phone with a tik tok playing on repeat.

He was confused for a second, until the video started over and he saw Evan Buckley, the NFL player, talking about having gone to one of his last concerts, a smile spread across his face. He might or might have a little bit of a celebrity crush on the quarterback.

“I recently went to an Eddie Diaz concert!” The blond man was saying on the video, a smile on his face “I got a lot of friendship bracelets which was pretty cool!” He leaned back and showed the camera his wrist, wearing a handful of bracelets “I wanted to give one away to Eddie but, with uh, my number”

“Your player number or your phone number?” The interviewer asked, which made Buck wiggle his eyebrows and smirk.

“You know which one” Buck replied, his deep voice melting into a soft chuckle.

*

Or, Eddie Diaz is an international star, Buck is an NFL player with a crush on him, and after having one of his interviews go viral, they connect, opening a lot of new experiences for both of them, and leaving Eddie wishing that his life didn't make everyone's life so complicated.

Part 2 of this list will be posted soon!

[eggtrolls]

Congrats on being done tapering! If it's not too personal, can I ask what made you decide to rawdog life? I'm on a daily med rn, and can't really imagine being able to manage life without it, 'cause it gave me my brain back. I don't know if I will always feel like I want to take this med forever, or if I want to only take it for a while and then try my hand at life unmedicated again, but I am interested to hear about your decision making process!

I’m on day 5 of no meds and so far my head/life hasn’t exploded. I’m answering this with the strictest caveat that this is just my experience, if it doesn’t apply to your scenario, then don’t take it to heart, use critical thinking skills (old woman shakes fist at sky), etc.

N/B: I’m very lucky that my withdrawal side effects have been really minor — it’s mainly that I’m HUNGRY. This medication has some minor appetite suppressant side effects but, other than that, I can’t say that I’ve noticed any real consequences. My dose was very, very low since I’ve been tapering for a while but it’ll be a while before it’s fully out of my system so I’ll check back in maybe a month.

Background: I started taking medication (daily oral non-SSRI anti-depressant; happy to get into the details in a DM) when I was in my mid twenties and I’m now in my early thirties. My life now is completely, radically different from where it was. My external circumstances (high pressure environment, low grade abusive relationship, brand new place with no real friends or support system) are completely different. But also my internal circumstances (lack of emotional regulation, lack of self worth reinforced by abusive relationship, limited control over life and actions in general, not great relationship with family, pretty much broke) are very, very different. And changing the internal circumstances is a big part of the regular emotional maintenance grind: therapy, meds, eating the bitter greens (sometimes literally, sometimes in the form of exercise, actual self care, doing things that are otherwise hard, etc.), and so on. I haven’t been standing still while taking meds; I have been actively working on becoming a mentally healthier person.

For my specific mental health circumstances (I don’t have ADHD/autism), I view things like therapy and medication in the same way that I do PT — something you do to respond to an injury/trauma/whatever. For me, personally, the default state is one of health. It actually corresponds quite well with my recent foot injury from taekwondo: my foot was okay; I got hurt, I needed to change how I walked and used my foot and external support to help make those changes; gradually my foot healed; I was able to remove the external support(s).

Present: I started thinking about tapering off my medication when I was at the dentist and they asked if I take any medications and I said I take a daily multivitamin and [antidepressant] but not for depression - I haven’t met the criteria for depression in years - but for what my psychiatrist calls “health maintenance”. So then it’s like….what’s the point? What am I getting from this that I couldn’t provide for myself? And tapering down from my full dose to half of that, to half of that, showed me that the current reality is, without meds, I am capable of maintaining my mental health.

What makes me feel okay about going off my medication and leaving therapy is the same as what makes me feel okay not walking around in a boot anymore: I can put the boot back on if something happens. I have my podiatrist’s number the same way I have my therapist and psychiatrist’s numbers. I also have a much, much more robust social circle of people than I did when I started on meds. I have built layer upon layer of safety nets for myself. I think you, and most people, probably can do that, too, regardless of what your menty h situation is.

Future/reflections: I will say that this medication did or at least helped save my life when I started taking it but…it’s kind of like if you’re drowning and someone throws you a life preserver from the shore — you still have to grab it, put it on, and swim to land. And where I think a lot of people get stuck is the ‘swim to land’ part. They put the life preserver on and float, rather than swim. They’re no longer drowning - this is good! But they’re still getting buffeted by currents, they might get hit by a boat, there might be sharks, and the water is cold. They have been treading water, trying not to sink, for years. They are exhausted. And therefore many people feel like they have to keep going with the external supports of medications, therapy, whatever their thing is, because they do. Saying ‘why aren’t you swimming’ is not helpful which is why I’m not doing that and why this is in no way prescriptive.

(And here’s the gag: I was that person! It took me the better part of a decade to get to this point where I’m hauling my carcass up on dry land. If someone tells me I don’t “get it” because I’m sooooooo mentally well adjusted and shouldn’t talk about experiences of XYZ symptom of depression, I will kick them very, very hard)

To continue the metaphor, I also know that the shore I’m swimming to - that I’ve finally arrived at - is not the same as the one I left, and that’s fine. My foot is not the same as it was pre-injury and that’s also fine. But unlike my foot, I don’t want to return to where I was pre-meds/therapy a) because it’s not a halcyon, golden age where nothing hurts and everything is beautiful; b) because that’s where I was when I ended up needing therapy and meds in the first place; c) because that’s not even possible, but mostly d) because I found and built something better than before.

[bakery-anon]

♪ positivity prime time! share five things you love about yourself, four things you're excited about, OR three people you care deeply about and why. pass this along to someone whose posts make you smile ♪

Ave ilysm <333 thank you for sending this to me 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Three people I care deeply about [tumblr edition]!!!

You! (Ave) You were one of my first mutuals on tumblr and I’m very grateful for it. You didn’t have to respond to me, hell you didn’t even have to follow me back but you did. You wrote One Summer Day and I just needed to tell you how much I loved it (and still do, guys please I have brainrot and it’s her fault). Thank you for making me feel special, when I’m sad you send me things to cheer me up and I’m so appreciative of that. You remind me of drinking hot coco with friends and going to fall markets. Talking with you feels like a warm hug from someone you haven’t seen in a while. You never make me feel like I’m annoying you or that you would literally be doing anything else than talking to me and I’m so happy for that. Thank you for continuing to be my friend and look over my essays and let me ramble to you about things. Thank you for being my biggest supporter <3 I love you Ave, thank you for being my friend. (I hope writing goes well and that you did a good job on your presentation you had <3)

Vannah! My lovely!!! You’re one of my newer friends but that doesn’t discredit how much you mean to me! <3 you’re an amazing person and truly one of my biggest hype people be it for something I’ve written or for homework. You remind me of a cozy blanket, talking with you makes me feel all warm and wrapped up. Thank you for listening to my rambles and finding a way to make me happy when I’m sad. I hope you won’t be too hard on yourself, remember it’s okay to take breaks and admit that things are hard! You’re so funny too, out conversations make me giggle so much bcs we’ll both say outrageous things and make each other laugh. Thank you for being my friend Vannah I love you <3 (I hope homework goes well and your test! You got this <3)

Ness! You’re also one of my newer friends on here!!! I appreciate and love you deeply!!! <333 you make me giggle and kick my feet. Our DM’s are such a safe cozy space, we yap so much and I want to thank you for allowing me to feel comfortable to do that. Thank you for making me feel loved and cared for. You didn’t have to answer my first ask and have a yap session with me but you did and I’m thankful for it everyday. Thank you Ness for making me feel loved and safe. You remind me of watching my favorite movie (The Princess Bride). Talking with you helps melt my stress away and I forget I was even sad when we yap. Thank you for being such a lovely amazing person. Thank you for being my friend and trusting me to let me be your friend too. I love you Ness!!! <333 (I hope your wrist feels better)

Q gets an honorary mention bcs they have tumblr now lol <3 omg guys I’m gonna try not to ramble too much for this one bcs I need content for my Christmas letter I’m giving them. Q, you’re lovely and I’m so happy that you’re my friend. We only met just last year but we’ve made so many memories together that it feels like longer. You’re a joy to be around, I know you don’t feel like it all the time but I enjoy just sitting in silence with you. You’re my support and I know that I can go to you for anything, thank you for letting me be myself. For letting me lay on you, and ramble about things you don’t care about, and convincing me to do and try things I normally wouldn’t. You remind me of dancing in the kitchen bcs it’s something we’ve done. You find new ways to make me laugh and I’m so grateful for you. There’s a certain calmness that envelops me when we hang out and I get really sleepy. I heard that when you feel safe around someone you get sleepy because you don’t feel the need to be on alert. I love you Q and can’t wait to make more memories with you <3

(guys I love all of my moots <3 there should be a button that like sends all of your moots a notification telling you how much you love them).

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

bro i’d illegally download you af but im far too shy to be non-anon for now. thank you for responding to my previous Ask. I interpreted that theres a lack of reciprocity about how tsumiki views gojo. Almost like a “legal kidnapping”. Cuz sure megumi may have consented (as much as a 6 year old can consent) but she definitely had zero say in her adoption. It just sort of happened to her, much like how it just happened to yuuta waking up from a concussion to learn he’s got a “new dad”.

Im happy to learn that your fans will be indulged in the future regarding this!

Q: is yaga turning a blind eye or completely unaware that his school is now essentially harbouring an anti-zenin crime faction? Only asking because of your response to your previous Ask. i imagine he is bound to find out that a special grade teacher, the ONLY doctor, and a grade 1 sorcerer are currently out of commission.

You illegally download me but I’m very glitchy and probably infected with malware and I accidentally repeat the same story nine times and don’t reach the end during any of those times

Tsumiki sooo often becomes the Good Girl TM in fics and I just love her as messy and conflicted and hurting. I won’t make any binding statements as to what will be discussed/revealed but my girl needs to be allowed to be angry and upset and conflicted about her childhood. She had a pretty fucked time of it.

Also I’m pretty sure gojo straight up didn’t even legally kidnap him he fully kidnapped those children and then said “who’s gonna stop me lol” and no one was powerful enough to. Does he even have paperwork for them. There is no way it’s legitimate if so. A seventeen year old can’t even legally adopt children. What did he tell their school.

As to yaga, it’s more that there’s been such little time passed and he was too swamped to do anything immediate about it.

Like, Yaga knows that gojo and Shoko fucked off. A decent percentage of the jujutsu world knows it. It’s just that he hasn’t really had the time to do anything about it.

It’s only been like, maybe five hours since Gojo and Shoko finally made it to jujutsu high.

A general timeline of the events of sea flags gardens:

December 21st: Geto declares war.

December 22nd: Megumi is taken.

December 22nd-24th: megumi is in the disciplinary pit, only tsumiki knows he’s missing.

December 24th-25th: Yuuta defeats Geto, passes out after Rika moves on, and wakes up to discover the higher ups are already making a move on him

The night of December 25th: The Zenin force Megumi to summon the great serpent, he takes the bite.

December 26th: Yuuta meets Nanami, his new not-dad.

December 27th: Yuuta’s meeting with the higher ups. Nanami is suspended.

Very late on the 27th: Tsumiki discovers Megumi unconscious and delirious on the kitchen floor, steals a car, and brings him to the school. Yuuta unlocks reversed curse technique and maintains it throughout the night.

6amish on the 28th: Gojo and Shoko arrive at jujutsu high

(this won’t be in the fic, but basically it took Maki ages to get into touch with gojo because of how busy he was, and when he rushed to get Shoko, she was in the middle of surgery and had literally no one to replace her. By then, Yuuta had unlocked RCT, so they had a very tense night with Nanami monitoring Yuuta to make sure that he was able to keep Megumi stable while Shoko tried to not kill the guy on the table in front of her, biting their nails about whether Megumi would last until they got there. Straight up, Gojo had teleported back and forth multiple times in the night to check on Megumi, but Yuuta was so focused in maintaining RCT that he didn’t notice him. Gojo went out of his way to make sure Yuuta wouldn’t notice him, because he didn’t want to distract him and risk him losing his grip on the RCT before Shoko could take over. He was waiting just outside of the infirmary more than once in the night to make sure Megumi was still breathing. All of the adults are sort of hauntingly aware that if Yuuta hadn’t figured out RCT, Megumi would have died before Maki could even get in touch with gojo and they’d all be burying him right now. None of them have come off the panic of that yet.)

1pmish: Megumi wakes up.

It’s been less than 12 hours since gojo and Shoko fucked off, and yagas too busy trying to find replacements for their workloads to have to decide whether he’d turn a blind eye.

Gojo was legitimately covering more than the rest of the workforce combined, and that load dropping down on you when you’re busier than ever really shows. Shoko’s less obvious, because she can’t work as long as gojo can, so there’s a decent few people that still think she’s probably just sleeping or something. But when you have a society that just got off a war and literally one healer, then people notice when she leaves and doesn’t answer her phone. Yaga knows that gojo and Shoko are gone, but he doesn’t know why. Gojo hasn’t read him in on anything to do with Megumi since they had to go no contact with the Zenin. He thinks Nanami’s not around because he’s suspended, but he doesn’t know what the hell happened to make gojo and Shoko go awol, and he just hasn’t had the time to find that out.

Ijichi’s the only other one who gojo told about what happened. He’s also gone awol, but he’s been in and out of campus trying to get information on what happened and running necessary errands while everyone else has been tied up with megumi. He did get to visit Megumi while Yuuta was asleep, but Megumi was too out of it for anything to be said.

[silviafae]

You've gotta stop, hun. I'm sorry you got involved with DoL at its literal conception and were young enough that it did your mental state substantial harm. I'm not of the opinion that all sexual material should be kept away from anyone under 18, but 9 years old is just insane to me and I don't think anyone in their right mind would allow such a thing if they found out; particularly because 9-year-olds aren't likely to have the freedom and open dialogue with safe adults required to prevent things like porn addiction. Genuinely, that sucks, and I know there's nothing that can be done to fix it now.

That said, it's no one else's fault unless someone knew about your age and deliberately got you into the game. Then it would solely be their fault. Your understanding of porn and sex in general seems to have been skewed by your negative experience, but attacking the game and the people who play it isn't helping. This fandom really can be wonderful and wholesome; I can't tell you how many people (myself included) found it therapeutic after their own negative experiences because it deals with hypersexuality, a common result of such experiences, and being able to take back control. The fandom can also be very toxic at times. I don't want you to get dogpiled. Please back off for the sake of your own mental health and wellbeing and focus on healing instead. No matter the situation, thinking about something that hurt you so much is never good for you.

On the other hand, the people in the DoL fandom don't need it either. There are a lot of heavier mental-health-related things here you don't understand yet (I'm referring to your posts here; not your age) and that's okay. You don't have to understand them; you can live and let live here and safely assume that the 18+ y/o people playing this game have their own agency and can decide what's right for them. What someone else does in their free time does you no harm, so please do not harm them.

I say again: Please stop with the discourse and focus on your happiness. People are going to defend the things that help them heal from their traumas to hell and back, so you're really whacking a bee hive doing this.

I appreciate your kindness, and I understand where you’re coming from.

Honestly I was gonna write something long but new meds are kicking my ass, so all I’m going to say is, you guys should probably find new media, I don’t hate the players, moreso the game and its writers, and I know I can’t shut down the whole fandom. Also i know ive made the fandom hate me now, but it would be super cool if you labeled all DoL content mature and didn’t make crossposts with other fandoms, because thats how I found it.

I’ll back off a bit and shift to making fun of other dark content (like the fic about gojo and a lesbian) but I will respond to my inbox.

Thank you for your kindness, I hope you evenually heal from what happened to you, and censor shit