#and it’s fucking awful and upsetting and difficult to read

[handcat]

i feel like i’m absolutely not the person to be giving takes abt palestine but i’ve been trying to learn more abt everything and am now so pissed and sad and fucking livid

free palestine

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now | 2 |

in which readers true feelings are revealed.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings/tags: angst again (whoops) miscommunication (it’s short dw) fluff, reader is hungover lol, spencer is handsomely disheveled (moans) mentions of blueberry muffins being readers favourite type of muffin (sorry for not being vague but also if you don’t like blueberry muffins??? why) some tears, some swearing, some kissing, suggestiveness at the end of you squint (WHOOPS *evil smirk*) no use of y/n!! wc: 2.1k a/n: call me slim shady because i am back!!! i procrastinated writing this because i was scared everyone was secretly judging my writing and actually hated it and a second part would be a stupid idea but THEN i realised that was a little bit silly so im here B) part one got over 1000 notes (INSANE) all the support has been so so lovely—every note, reblog, and comment means the world to me, thank you!! i hope this part is okayy, feedback is always appreciated :) i hope you enjoy it you choose to read!!! <3 p.s kissing scenes are so difficult to write, i think i done absolutely awful!!!so let’s ignore that…. if you haven’t already and you’d like to, you can read part one here!

Your eyelids twitched as the early morning sun filtered through your bedroom. What was usually a calming wake-up call now felt like being blinded.

You burrowed your face into your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to dull the throbbing in your head. This is why you didn’t drink often.

Asides from the obvious headache and nausea, you always seemed to wake up with a sense of dread; ‘hangxiety’—a friend had called it once. It was creeping up on you now, and even though you weren’t sure exactly what you had done, you knew it was bad. You flipped onto your back, fixing your gaze to the ceiling as if it could tell you what irreparable mistakes you had made last night.

It couldn’t, of course. The only thing you had realised is that you should probably coat it in a new layer of paint soon.

“How’re you feeling?”

You shot up, eyes widening at the sight of a man in your doorway. A man whose sleepy voice and disheveled hair threatened to make you melt, but a man who should not be in your doorway, nonetheless; Spencer.

Your brain was quick to supply you with information then, your memory coming back in hazy remnants. You were upset so you…called Spencer for the first time in months. Yikes. He didn’t answer so you turned to a bottle of high end whiskey instead—yikes, again—and passed out on your couch, only to wake up to your ex-boyfriend in your apartment. Cue more sobbing, a pathetic attempt at asking—no, more like begging—him to get back together with you, and that was it. Well, mostly. There was also the promise of discussing your breakdown in the morning. The morning, which was now.

What the fuck.

“Like I’ve been napalmed.” You weren’t sure you were just referring to your raging hangover.

That prompted a raspy kind of chuckle from him and Jesus Christ—you really shouldn’t have called, because it was going to be infinitely harder to watch him leave when he inevitably told you you were sad loser who needed to get a grip and move on—except, he’d be a lot nicer than that, wouldn’t he? Because even if things were over between you, he was still the sweetest person you had ever met and he’d never say anything to intentionally hurt you. Maybe things would be easier if he did. If he wasn’t so sickeningly perfect—if he just insulted you in the way you were certain you deserved, then maybe you’d get over him quicker.

“So, I-ah-uber’d breakfast—“

Your inner turmoil came to a screeching halt at those words.

“You uber’d? You?”

He scoffed, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“The team’s been very into it lately and I always finish my paperwork first so it only makes sense that I—stop laughing! I can uber!”

“Sorry! I just can’t imagine the great Doctor Reid stooping to the levels of a fast food delivery app. Do you ever order to the wrong place?”

“No.” he said, unconvincingly. “Well, only once—“

You were laughing again.

He whined, turning on his heel.

“Just take your aspirin and hurry up!” He grumbled petulantly as he left the room, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

After a quick freshen up and taking the pills placed on your bedside table—as per his request—you padded through to the living room, joining Spencer on the couch.

You gasped delightedly as he pulled out muffins from a brown paper bag. To be more specific, blueberry muffins; your favourite.

“Did you know that blueberries are good for fighting hangovers? They’re rich in vitamin C, which helps break down and metabolise blood alcohol. Muffins too, they—what? Do I have something on my face—“

“No! No, sorry,” You had been caught staring—ogling, more like. “I just missed…that.”

“What? My incessant rambling?” He was joking, but you could hear the insecure twinge in his voice—the one that told him he was too much. Over the course of your relationship, you had showed him that he didn’t have to think like that around you—that he was never too much; he was perfect in your eyes. You hated that he doubted that now.

“Yes, actually.” You tried to keep your tone light, unserious. But there was nothing unserious about just how badly you had missed the man sitting beside you. How you could hear his voice in your mind when you drove late at night, giving you statistics on accidents. Or how on other late nights, you swore you could feel his hands ghosting over your skin—only to find out it was your imagination.

If he could see how truthful you were being, he didn’t acknowledge it, turning his attention back to the coffee table.

“I’ll, um, save you the facts on how beneficial coffee is for hangovers, anyway.” He smiled awkwardly, shuffling a paper coffee cup to where your muffin sat.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, “for the coffee, not the withholding of information—i’m a real fiend for coffee facts…especially when they’re related to curing hangovers!” You said a little too cheerily, trying to alleviate the awkward tension. Although, that only seemed to make it worse.

Spencer just huffed out a little laugh in response, taking the wrapper off of his muffin.

The rest of breakfast went by in silence. Not the comfortable silence you always seemed to have with Spencer—when you were together, you reminded yourself—but a strained one. The kind of silence that occurs when there’s something left unsaid, and you’re just waiting for someone to spit it out.

Spencer broke first.

“So we should probably talk…about last night.”

You finished the remainder of your coffee, setting the empty cup down before turning your whole body to Spencer, tucking your legs up underneath you.

“Right, yeah…”

A beat passed, Spencer’s eyes darting around your face—assessing you.

For someone who had imagined this conversation in your mind countless times, you certainly weren’t saying much.

“I—uh…was very drunk.”

Something in him shifted, like he was putting up imaginary walls.

“So you didn’t mean…any of it?” His brow furrowed, his nose twitching slightly.

“Well no, but I—“ You what? Meant every word you said and more? You couldn’t just say that. You had just got a small part of Spencer back and you didn’t want to ruin it by coming on too strong.

He waited for you to add something, anything, to show him that maybe, maybe there was a tiny part of you that still wanted him as badly as he wanted you. But you didn’t. You just sat there, playing with the fabric of your—his—t-shirt.

He couldn’t do it.

He was so tired of loving people only for them to leave like he had meant nothing to them. Was that all he was to you? Someone you could call when your inhibitions were lowered, looking for comfort? He would do anything to be back in your life again, but he couldn’t be a person of convenience; someone you only wanted when you were lonely.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing down the tightness in his throat.

“You were drunk and you got carried away, I get it. I think I better go though—“

“What? No, I—“ You bobbed your mouth like a fish, trying to find the words necessary to keep him here. There were too many of them and yet none at all. None except for three. Three words that you wished you had the courage to say months ago, or weeks ago, or last night. But you never claimed to be a courageous person, and you weren’t about to spill your heart out again only for it to end up in rejection.

Spencer stood, making his way to your bedroom to grab his shoes and coat. He didn’t care about his other clothes, he could buy more—he just needed out before he broke.

You sat dumbfounded on the couch, willing yourself to do something, say something. It was like you were frozen. And you stayed frozen. As Spencer shuffled around your bedroom, as he returned to the living room—completely avoiding your gaze—even as he searched for his keys. You hadn’t realised he had driven over here. He didn’t usually drive unless he had to get somewhere urgently. Were you someone worth seeing urgently to him?

He picked up his keys, heading for your door and only then did you realise how dire the situation was. If he left now you weren’t sure he would ever come back.

“No—wait, Spencer!” You stammered, lunging off the couch to try and stop him. He unlocked the door, moving to leave when you grabbed onto his jacket sleeve.

“Please don’t—I love you!”

“What?”

He turned to face you and you noticed just how wrecked he looked—not at all dissimilar from how you had for the last few months. Had he looked like that the whole time?

You must’ve been staring because when you came back to your senses he was calling your name exasperatedly.

“Do you mean it?”

You were fed up living like this; harbouring so much love for someone and not being able to express it. Even if he didn’t love you back, even if he was over you, you couldn’t go another moment without at least telling him how you felt.

“Yes,” you heaved, “I love you—I never stopped loving you, I was just…” You knitted your brows together, unsure how to phrase what you were feeling.

“I’ve never loved someone the way I love you and that’s…terrifying. I thought the way I felt was wrong, like—when you were on cases, I missed you so much, more than I thought humanely possible and—well, I never wanted to be the kind of girl to base her happiness on another person because that’s how you get hurt. So, I thought the only way to combat that was by…distancing myself. I thought if you weren’t in my life anymore then I’d be able to get a grip and become more independent—“ you huffed, trying to stop the wobble of your voice. “but it didn’t work, because then I was just missing you twice as much, except I couldn’t see you at all—“

“You could’ve answered my messages, we could’ve—“

“So you could return your key? Then things would actually be over. Why do you think I ignored your messages?”

“Why do you think I kept messaging? Angel, I was never going to return that key—at least not willingly—I just wanted to see you, to see if you were doing just as horribly without me as I was without you. You know, I couldn’t even focus on cases—Hotch even suggested I take some time off.”

You frowned, your voice impossibly small. “I’m sorry.”

He took a step toward you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Don’t apologise, you were dealing with your emotions in the best way you knew how. I just wish…” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I wish I hadn’t let you go so easily.”

His eyes were shining and—God, you wished you could take it all back. All the pain you had caused him, caused yourself, just because you were too scared to talk about your feelings.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” You blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. “Y’know, I read a book on astrophysics because it reminded me of you. I didn’t understand any of it but I couldn’t put it down. I still—“ you let out a watery chuckle. “still have it in my bedroom somewhere.”

Spencer smiled, swiping under your eye at a tear that must’ve escaped.

“Yeah? Maybe I can read it to you—help you understand it.”

“I’d like that.”

You didn't know much about celestial bodies or the ultimate fate of the universe, but you could've sworn you'd seen the stars pictured in that book in Spencer’s eyes when he looked at you.

“Say it again.” He mumbled, tilting his head down so that your faces were just inches apart.

“I love you.”

And then his lips were on yours, impossibly soft and everything you had been missing since you had broken up. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed and all you could do was sigh into him because you knew the feeling.

He leaned back all too soon, resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, I should probably go—“ He smirked, but you cut him off before he could continue his teasing.

“You’re not funny.”

He narrowed his eyes, sucking his teeth.

“I don’t know, I—“

You pressed a firm hand on his chest, bunching the cotton of his t-shirt into a fist.

“Stop. Stay—we can have a pyjama day and maybe for dinner, you can show me just how tech savvy you’ve become and uber us some food—“

He rolled his eyes, kicking the door shut before pressing his lips to yours with more force this time.

“Stop talking.”

[arlestial]

Hey, could you make a part two of how the Blue Lock boys make up for the forgotten date? (Nagi,Isagi,Bachira) 🌷

❝if you'd have been the one❞

synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.

pairing : Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : Alternative endings (angst or fluff/comfort)

word count : 4300~ words

author-note : Hi !! I’m so happy y’all liked this, so I decided to write a part II. Some wanted angst, others comfort, so I did both in order to please everyone :) The part I is here ! Thanks for all your kindness, I’m overjoyed to see so much attention on my writings 😭 I hope you’ll like it !! take care of yourself ♡

tag-list : @cecee77, @mandapanda16, @mariyumemi, @someonethatisnobody, @erintaro, @missalienqueen, @8-xnny, @miyanosm, @neuvilletteismybby

ISAGI YOICHI’s eyes widened when he saw your text, after the game. He knew he fucked-up the instant he stepped inside the soccer field, already regretting his decision. He won, but the stadium applause sounded like an awful ringtone that woke him up to reality, a shrill noise crashing his organs and piercing his ears. His heart was racing; not because of the victory, but because of the apprehension. The fear. The panic, that perhaps, he had lost you. But you wouldn’t leave him, right ? Everybody make errors. You would forgive him, no need to stress. At least, that’s what he was trying to convince himself. But in the depths of his own mind, he wasn’t this confident. He took his phone, excusing himself from his teammates that were celebrating, and isolated himself in the corridor. He tried to call, but you refused it twice. He groaned, his hands shaking, trying to tap a text quickly.

22:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.

- read at 00:24a.m.

00:24a.m. | yoichi ♡ : honey please just accept the call

i know I fucked up, I’m sorry

i shouldn’t have done that

- read at 00:33a.m.

00:34a.m. | yoichi ♡ : i know you don’t want to talk to me right now

I’m coming over

- read at 00:38a.m.

00:39a.m. | y/n ♡ : gosh, how savvy and perspicacious of you.

- read at 00:39a.m.

00:40a.m. | yoichi ♡ : here in two minutes

- read at 00:41a.m.

You turned off your phone, completely mad. You clearly didn’t want to talk to him right now, especially this late. He couldn’t care less about you when he was playing on the field; and now, surprisingly, he knew that he fucked up and he regretted it ? Please. You decided to spend the night elsewhere, at your parents, since they were the only ones responding in the middle of the night - they were probably watching a movie at home and were a bit surprised to see you texting them a "hey, can I come over ? got an issue at home" text out-of-the-blue. As you exited your bedroom with a bag filled with spare clothes, you’re met by a raven-haired man, panting, still in his blue jersey, preventing you from leaving the house. He grabbed your waist when you tried to walk past him.

"Isagi, let me go."

"Love, listen. What I did was selfish, I know, it was a terrible mistake."

"So tell me, Isagi, when did you feel regret ? When you stood me up or when I texted you back, making it clear that I was upset ?"

"Actually, from the very first moment my foot landed on the field. But that doesn’t change anything, it’s still shitty of me, and i-"

"But it changes everything, in fact. So, you could’ve turned around. You could’ve joined me at this restaurant, like you promised me, no ? But you didn’t. So you just lied right in front of my face. How bold of you."

He felt like suffocating. You were right. He should’ve refused to play the match, even if there were the most talented players in the world; because you were his lover, goddamnit. He knew you were insecure, because he was rather absent, and he should’ve came to the date he promised to take you to. He was busy with Blue Lock, neglecting you in the process and not setting aside enough time to reassure you like he was supposed to. He wanted you to slap him, to punch him, as hard as you could; he wanted to suffer physically. It was easier to bear physical pain than to handle the mental distress he was in.

"But no, my sweet boyfriend Isagi Yoichi decided to stood me up to play some random game as if he’s not always away from me all the damn time."

"I don’t know why I did that, honestly. It was stupid, and I’m deeply sorry. You know that I love you a lot, right ? You’re the most important thing in my life, and I don’t want to loose you because I’m too immature to think before I-"

"Am I even enough for you ?"

You were losing patience, your tone now sharp, trying to bite away the tears from falling.

"Obviously you are, darling. You are more than enough, and you deserve so much better than me."

He hurried to say, his hands coming to your cheeks, gently stroking them with his thumbs. The concerned look on his face grew rapidly in a desperate, frightened one.

"That doesn’t feel like it. If it was the case, you’d have turned around. Soccer had always been your main interest, and I’ve always been the second. I don’t want to be with a guy that prefers a sport to his own partner."

ISAGI YOICHI had never experienced so much fear in a lapse of time this short. His heart skipped multiple beats - maybe it stopped completely, heavy. He heard the blood rushing in his veins, in his ears, as if the pulsations were the applause of a whole stadium; it was deafening. His breath hitched, goosebumps painting themselves on his clothed arms. Don’t go.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ Your mind kept telling you that he wasn’t feeling any regret, that he wasn’t really sorry. If this situation presented itself again, he would pick the same decision, leaving you alone, completely by yourself in this stupid restaurant, below the pitiful looks of the waiters, probably whispering at each other who could even stood you up like that. He put distance in your relationship since weeks, months even, ghosting you when he was too tired to send you at least one text to let you know that he loved you still. Regardless of his lack of attention towards you, he wasn’t even capable of respecting his own promises, as he might prefer to play soccer with his friends as usual. And you were just there, always waiting for him, in every situation, waiting for him to come home with a warm smile and a good dinner, sharing kisses, hugs and cuddles on the couch, disappointed when he was reminding you that he’d be gone again in two or three days to return to Blue Lock. You were tired of it. It wasn’t even a relationship at this point.

"I’m not a toy you can play with for some time and then abandon like it’s nothing. My patience is not infinite."

"I never said that. It was an opportunity I couldn’t miss, and I wasn’t enough thoughtful to realize about the consequences of my actions. I just hope you can forgive me for it."

You pushed his wrists away from your face, glaring at him coldly, not wanting to cry for him. You took your bag and walked past him successfully this time, opening the door without giving him a single glance; just stopping in your tracks as you reached the doorknob.

"Goodbye, Isagi. I hope you’ll become the player you desired to be for so long."

You were his motivation, the person he wanted to make proud, the person he wanted to impress when showing his new capacities and his strength. The person he wanted to come home to, everyday, as lovesick as the day before. But now, the tears were flowing silently on his cheeks, as he couldn’t process what he saw. You, closing the door behind yourself, leaving him without any chance of coming back. Because you sincerely realize how much you love someone when you actually lose them.

↳ You tried to push him away, in a faint attempt to show how much you hated him right now. But he just stared at you, his gaze never fading, and he tilted your chin up with his hand. The other went straight to your waist, pressing you against him. Your eyes and his met; and you swore you’ve never saw a fonder look in your entire life. Orbs filled with pure love and softness, enamoured unpronounceable words, a silent plea begging your forgiveness. He leaned and kissed you gently, carefully. When he finally broke the kiss, he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers together, pressing multiple kisses on the back of your hand without breaking the eye contact you both were sharing.

"You deserve someone better, honey. And I want- no, I will become this someone, that will love you properly. I promise you this - and if I break this promise, I swear, you can kill me however you like, it’s up to you."

You bit back a chuckle, amused by his words; but on the depths of your heart, you were fully aware that he was genuine.

"I’ll never disappoint you again. You’re the love of my life, I couldn’t handle loosing you. I’m sorry for what I did, again. I’m an asshole. Really."

He kissed your forehead with so much tenderness, a tenderness you missed during his long absence. He peppered kisses on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, as if you were going to slip away from him. He whispered something else, not daring to break the eye-contact,

"I’d rather watch the whole world burn and experience an endless suffering that having you leaving me for good."

NAGI SEISHIRO tried everything. After multiple unanswered calls and messages left on “seen”, he noticed that you’ve blocked him. He sighed, staring at his ceiling. Was it the end ? He tried to forget you, he really did. He tried to convince himself that you weren’t this important. He tried to wake-up each morning without searching for you underneath the sheets, only to find a cold bed next to him. Occupying his thoughts with games, movies, series, even soccer, wasn’t enough anymore. He needed you in his arms, and he was willing to do every single thing imaginable to get you back.

You were at one of your friend’s apartment, enjoying some time with her watching your favorite series. She left the couch to get you a drink, mumbling a quick "pause the episode, I don’t wanna miss it" before hurrying to the kitchen. You smiled, and did as she asked; until you heard a knock on the door. You frowned.

"You ordered take-out ?", you called your friend from the couch, questionably.

"Nah, I didn’t. Told you we were going to one of my friends’ restaurant this evening."

She came back from the kitchen, two glasses filled in her hands, her brows furrowed. She put them on the table, glancing at the door.

"Who is it then ?"

"Don’t know. Wait, be right back.", she quickly turned around, walking towards the door, and opening it slightly. Her face went blank in approximately 2 seconds, and she gulped.

"Um.. Well, that’s awkward."

You couldn’t hear correctly what your friend said to the stranger; you could only hear a low voice, that sounded awfully familiar. So, you decided to get up, trying to get a peek of the tall figure standing in the corridor.

Your eyes widened.

The series was long forgotten on the screen, the voices echoing between the walls, as you stared, dumbfounded, at him.

Seishiro.

Your friend shifted uncomfortably, deciding to leave you both alone for some privacy as she promptly went to her room. You didn’t know what to say. What to think. But the dark bags under his eyes, that looked stern and empty, his hair even more messy than before, gave you relatively an idea of how the two passed weeks had been for him.

"What are you even doing here, Nagi ?"

Ouch. The use of his name instead of his first name was abysmal; but a relieved sigh escaped from his lips. Finally. Your voice. It sounded so much better than your voicemail, that he had listened every night after you left him in your shared apartment.

"I’m sorry. I- I’m really, fucking sorry for what I did. I miss you, Y/N. I can’t-"

"Nagi, stop. I can’t do this right now."

You cut him instantly, trying to close the door. Well, trying, because he refrained you from doing so, laying his whole strength on the door to keep you from leaving him again.

"Please, Y/N, at least, hear me out."

His voice was pleading, begging even; as much as your heart broke with his wobbly words, you didn’t know what to think, what to say. You bit your inside cheek, wondering what to do, now that he was so close to you, after all this time.

NAGI SEISHIRO looked at you dead in the eye, his own blackish orbs watering at the sight of your frame standing in front of him. His hand wandered to your cheek, his fingertips almost grazing your smooth skin that he missed so bad, as if you were made of real porcelain. Porcelain that he’d break with only one feather touch. So he held back.

"I missed you so much," his voice broke, approaching you hesitantly. "So fucking much. I’m sorry for neglecting you and taking you for granted all the time, I’m sorry I didn’t give you the attention you deserved, the attention you needed. I need you to come back to me. I can’t live without you, baby."

Forgiving him was a tough choice. Your heart was aching at the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks. You’ve never seen Nagi cry before, at least, not cries of pain. But he hurt you, he really did. These two weeks were just obnoxious to him, but they were worse to you. Seeing his texts, his calls, deciding to block him anyway - it was laborious, to say the least, because your feelings for him were still there, haunting your mind constantly, day and night.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ How could you just forgive him like that ? After all he did ? Sure, you meant a lot to him, but did you mean more than anything else ? You were always second, never the first, and it became clearer each day that passed that you weren’t as important as you thought you would be for him. He didn’t even made time for you in his oh-so-important schedule, focusing on soccer and his fucking games, hanging out with his friends who knows where, instead of you. He chose it. It wasn’t random. You weren’t his priority at all. Sitting patiently on the couch, staring at the door with this constant lovesick gaze, waiting for him to return to finally go on your well promised date. But he never returned. And you weren’t going to return either. It was enough.

"You know what ? You were the first thing in my mind, everyday. You always have been the first person I was thinking of in whatever situation I was in. The only voice I wanted to hear, the only person I wanted to see, the only gaze I wanted to get lost in - now don’t tell me you feel the same."

"I do-", but you immediately cut him off, anger taking the best of you.

"You’re a freaking liar. What’s the next step, uh ? You’re going to promise me you’ve changed ? You think I’m stupid or something ? I’m not naive, Nagi, I’ve never been your priority and I’ll never be."

"You don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve been busy, you’re right, but give me a second chance. I promi- I’ll not make the same mistake again, that’s for sure. I realized that you were extremely important to me, more important that I’d like to admit actually, I can’t bear seeing you without me at your side, it just hurts too much. I’m just asking for a second chance."

"As much as it hurts to say, it’s over. I’m not going to give you a second chance when I knew damn well that it’ll not change anything. If you needed time to process your love for me, I’m definitely going to give you time to process it even more."

His eyes widened when he saw you slowly closing the door, in a faint attempt of ending the discussion.

"No, wait, I beg-"

"Move on. It won’t be so difficult anyway, spend some time with your friends and your games, you’ll soon forget about me."

He was now staring at the wooden door of the apartment, tears streaming down his features. He lost you for good this time. And he finally understood how it felt to receive the same treatment that he gave you; to be abandoned by your lover when you needed them the most.

↳ Seeing him in tears didn’t really help your case. Your heart burnt, and you soon felt yourself tearing up, your vision blurred. You let out a broken sob, to which he responded with a call of your name - desperate, probably as broken as your cries - and he embraced you tightly, his nose nuzzling on your neck, sighing when he finally touched you, melting in the loveable hold he wished to feel again. He kept repeating the same apologies, the same confessions of love, hoping it’d soothe your tears.

"I don’t want to hurt you ever again," he mumbled, stroking the back of your hair gently, "I’ll never hurt you ever again.", he assured with a shaky voice.

He kissed your temple softly, still holding you close to him, your head resting on his chest.

"It’ll be the last time I’ll ever put something above you. You’re the most important thing to me - I can’t live without your presence near me all the time. I’m sorry I just realized that I needed to tell you this now. I should’ve known you deserved to hear it properly,"

"You’ll be my highest priority from now on, as it should’ve been from the very beginning, angel."

BACHIRA MEGURU was anxious. At first, he decided to give you space. He hated arguments with you, always trying to avoid them, and he thought that distancing himself might help the situation. Spoiler alert, it didn’t. Sweaty palms grabbing his phone, and immediately turning it off, utterly incompetent. He didn’t want to argue, to entertain a conflict with you; he prefered your smiles and your soft giggles in tickle fights. He missed them. The sound of your hard laughs, the look of your teasing grins. However, he couldn’t bring himself to text you, nor to call you, afraid that you’d pronounce a dry "it’s over". He couldn’t handle the pain, and avoiding it wasn’t the best idea to fix the issue. Meanwhile, it had been 3 weeks, you were now nearly convinced that your relationship with him had come to an end. No texts, no calls, no attempts to see you, you founded it weird, but you didn’t question it. It worried you a bit, yeah, but you weren’t going to chase after him if he didn’t want to talk about it. You were more hurt than worried; after all your moments together, the shared memories and the heavy feelings, he just moved on this easily ? Even though it was totally his fault ? You just scoffed when your friends asked about him, hiding your devasted state behind a mocking tone, saying it was probably over now. You waited for a message all the time, staring at the screen, angry fat tears rolling down your cheeks in frustration. What an asshole.

"You never texted them ? Bachira, are you crazy ?"

Isagi exclaimed, in utter shock. They were in his bedroom, Isagi was sitting on his bed, unable to process what Bachira just told him. The usually joyful man paced around, his face in his hands.

"I- I didn’t know what to say ! I fucked up really bad this time, I was scared of losing them."

"Man, you definitely lost them now. It’s been 3 weeks, you should’ve said something earlier !", Isagi replied, nearly strangling himself in desbelief.

"I know. What should I do ?"

"Bachira..", he sighed, biting his lip in despair, "it’s probably too late now. They’re most likely thinking that you don’t love them anymore or that you moved on."

"But I didn’t ?", Bachira whined when Isagi stood up and smacked his head, annoyed. Isagi mumbled something inaudible, probably about his naivety or his stupidness, again.

"But that’s what it looks like, bro. You stood them up, and they got no news from you, don’t be stupid. Everyone would think the same thing."

Bachira gulped. He was right. And without hesitation, he ran away from his home, heading towards your place, in hope you would accept his apologies. He never sprinted this fast in his entire life, his muscles burning, his ankles aching from the impact of his feet against the stiff concrete of the streets he was running in. The road seemed even longer than usual, and when he finally arrived on your doorstep, he was panting, his hands shaking as he hesitantly knocked. He felt nauseous. Emotions overwhelmed him when he finally saw your form opening the door with a worried look.

"Meguru ? What are you even doing here ?"

He immediately took you in his arms, his head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing-in your comfortable scent, relieved. You yelped in surprise, not reciprocating the hug.

"I missed you so much."

He muttered, still trying to catch his breath. You frowned, surprised by his presence.

"It had been 3 weeks, Meguru. It’s a bit late to come here."

"I know. I should’ve come earlier. I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please, forgive me ? I promise I won’t do it again !"

BACHIRA MEGURU didn’t want to let go of you, choosing to hold you even tighter, letting his tears soak your shirt. He couldn’t care less about crashing your bones with just arms; if it was possible, he’d live in your skin. That seemed creepy, to say the least, but he enjoyed over-proximity with you, and he couldn’t bear to be apart from you anymore.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ After 3 weeks, seriously ? You pushed him off of you, clearly not amused by his whines. You just felt anger, disappointment, embarrassment.

"Meguru, you left me alone for 3 weeks straight, and now you’re coming unannounced as if it was actually common ?"

"You don’t understand, Y/N !! I was too anxious of your reaction after our argument. I didn’t know how to deal with the guilt I felt, I didn’t know how to apologize properly.."

"No, you don’t understand. You really think that ghosting and ignoring people as if they never existed was a solution ? I should be the one to do that, not you. You’re always avoiding conflict and I’m so sick of it."

"I know-"

"No, you don’t !", you sneered, taking a long breath to soothe your nerves, "You never did. You haven’t remembered our anniversary - and it’s not the only thing you’ve forgotten along the way. You never took our conversations seriously, you never put any attention in our memories and our celebrations for them. I don’t want to be with someone who’s not even capable of being mindful of our important moments together and of our special dates. If it’s not important to you, alas, it is for me. I won’t give up another thing, especially if it’s something that is dear to me."

"It’s important for me, I swear. I just don’t know how to show it correctly."

"Then learn. But you can count me out."

You opened the door, leaving a broken Bachira behind, reaching after you. But you turned to stop him, giving him a quick nod, a silent no. The weak smile on your face shushed the golden-eyed boy. And he understood.

"I wish you the best, Meguru."

↳ You bit your inside cheek. Always giving promises he couldn’t keep, with a beam and butterfly kisses. And as much as you loved him, you didn’t know if you could tolerate it again, if your heart could handle another betrayal.

"You’re always promising the same things, but you’re never actually changing.", you argued.

"I can. I know I disappointed you, and you have every right to be upset. I’m trying my best, learning to manage my feelings and my habits is hard and tough, but I’ll do it for you. I’m really trying, Y/N,", he said, his voice breaking slightly, "I’m not used to this. It’s- you’re my first love, and I really hope you’ll be my last. I don’t have any experience in terms of relationships. If dates are important to you, I’ll make all the efforts in the world to make them special and memorable. I want to grow old with you, so please, give me one last chance to prove you that I’m worth it."

You hesitated for some seconds. He wasn’t the type to lie, and right now, he sounded strangely serious. It felt out-of-character, but you needed it to actually make up a decision.

"Fine. But it’s your last chance.", you finally whispered,

"Yes ma’am. Trust me on this one, I’ll make you proud of my work."

He sighed, relieved, immediately peppering your face with kisses. You giggled, trying to push him away.

"Gosh, I missed this sound. Oh- and I’m taking you on a date after; that’s the least I can do. I love you to the moon and to saturn, Y/N. Thank you for everything."

[slothkittfunsies]

Deep Dive into the issues on Alastor.

CONTENT WARNING: Racism, Aphobia.

Now that I created a blog specifically for stuff like this, It's time for the dive.

Alastor is a character that resonates with me, because this guy is supposed to represent me and my people (aspec/aroace community) and I liked his pilot personality. (That went to shit)

This man got so many issues, that i have to take the pen myself and scribble what Vivzie has wrote. So, Let's start, shall we?

THE DESIGN

The first time I saw the Hazbin pilot, I got confused about what Alastor was supposed to be. I thought he was just a grey human wearing some kind of animal ears until the fandom said he is a deer.

A deer. Let that sink in.

(Images for comparsion)

As someone passionate about the arts, this upset me. Sure, I haven't been to art school, but even I know you need to put the backstory and features in mind when designing a character.

Character design is NOT throwing things at the wall and seeing which sticks. It needs actual critical thinking. If your audience is confused about your character's species, it's time to go back to the drawing table (unless you have a reason for making it mysterious.)

Second, the overabundance of red is awful in terms of color theory. This guy is in Hell, which is also red, causing an eyesore. I got a headache when trying to focus on him on a red background. And also, colors have meaning. People associate red with danger, so the fact he even managed to get victims to kill makes me puzzled.

Also, the fact he's supposed to be mixed/black makes this design even worse. Why is he grey instead of brown, perhaps? Vivzie has a pattern of making POCs grey-skinned, which is, again, awful.

I think Vivzie only made him a POC due to the voodoo issue. I mean, just remove the symbols and you are done. But nah the symbols are too "aesthetic" to remove. So gotta change his race.

She could have used another symbols, like THIS for example:

Since, you know, he's the "Radio Demon"?

THE BACKSTORY

Ok, this where I'm very confused.

Alastor is a radio host, and also a serial killer. He was born in the USA, got killed by a deer hunter by mistake, and lived in the 1920's.

This is what I gathered from being a superfan back then, and it sounds unorganised/cluttered. And the years he lived in make his design even worse. (Again! His clothing doesn't speak the 1920s!)

The fact he's from an old era, and yet speaks in modern slang is weird. He's supposed to hate anything modern, and yet he does it anyway? His saying "fuck" multiple times is so out of character for him. I guess the "If made by Vivziepop" memes have some truth.

Putting the fact he's mixed, makes the backstory more confusing. How did he manage to be a popular radio host at the time before the civil rights movement became a thing? He will have been put down like the rest of the POCs in America. Either that he's white-passing, or it's VERY difficult. Adding the fact he's a serial killer makes me think how the cops didn't get to him (the mere fact he's black should have got him questioned in 1920s America)

Now, for his identity. I'm mad he's the only aroace character in the sea of gays and bisexuals. (I'm not saying gay men and bisexual people should not have representation. I have to say that due to tumblr's piss poor reading comprehersion)

which made me go through on why Vivzie made him aroace in the first place. I don't know if this is true, but I heard she made him aroace because "he only loves himself"

Um. Here we go again with allos assuming we are non-empathic psychopaths for our lack of sexual or/and romantic attraction. I hope that's not true at all, but knowing Vivzie's past, I wouldn't be surprised.

Alastor would have been a great character if another person took care of it instead of Vivziepop. What I'm gonna say is, wasted potential.

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Silco HCs

CW: Intimidation, kidnapping, manipulation, guilt tripping, gaslighting, and whatnot. Somewhat proof read :P

A/n: Soft yandere Silco?? He's desperate for human connection. Not much to say. Silco brain damage XD

Possessive, dominate, and manipulative

The smoothest manipulator you will ever encounter. He is brutal- Cruel with his ways of keeping you around his thin fingers. Just before you break, Silco knows exactly how to let you down easy with his iron grip.

"Aw, don't cry dear. You know I only do what is best for you. If you really think this is so bad, then go ahead and venture out into the lanes. Taint yourself in the thick air, polluted waters, the violence of whom i cannot control. I do think you rather not return to those conditions, no?"

Silco falls for you when you show your strengths and weaknesses. There's no facade or display when it comes to the thought of you. It's simply just the feeling your omit from your presence that softens his cold heart.

Would not dare to court you directly. Especially if you're from Zuan. He would show you his affections through messing with the stresses of your life. Money running thin? Oh why don't you look at that? An "old friend" sent you some cash. Job sucks? A business scout invites you to work at a larger company while you're doing errands.

If you're from Piltover, then he will try his best to fuck your life over. You seem to be pretty well off, so there isn't much fixing to do from afar. You will be stalked by his best, followed late at night, subtly threatened by a few strangers on the street, the ones close to you will leave and not say why, and so much more. Though, they will never be enough for you to take real legal action. Silco will chip away at you bit by bit, so when he finally has his grasp on you, it will be more of him "saving you" rather than kidnapping you.

Sometimes he visits your home and rummages through your stuff personally. Looks through photo albums, digital devices, inventory of food and whatnot, and clothing articles. His favorite thing to do is to lay in your bed- hug your messy blankets and lay in your scent. It's a drastic difference from his smoking habits. Cigars are so expensive, but intruding your home and melting in your presence is free.

Breaths in and out like he's on a machine. Like if he DOES NOT repeat the cycle of oxygen and carbon dioxide, he will fucking perish. Silco has been so deattached from love and physical touch, that this is his best replacement.

Would never admit doing this. He makes sure Sevika is guarding the front door at all times. One, to make sure you dont come home unexpectedly, and two, so that she doesn't know more than she needs to.

Bonus points if you can sway Jinx. Whether it be you talked her down during one of her fantastical massacres, or you happen to simply run into the time bomb of a girl- If she likes you, you're officially on his roster forever. No take backs.

When he takes you, it's slow and thorough. Most likely when you're peacefully asleep and somewhat unaware- a syringe is injected and you're relocated.

Silco keeps you in a select few locations in Zaun. Despite his access to luxury, he wants to remind you of what situation you're in. He will take care of you, but he will not coddle you.

Silco is an older man, so puppy love isn't much of a thing for him. By the way he creeps around your shit, you'd think he gets flustered just by the mention of your name, but no. He screams on the inside but is easily composed on the outside. Years of the undercity does that to a person you know?

But when he's angry? Oh when he's upset, he's goes off the rails. Usually, the origin of Silco's rages can be traced back to either your disrespect, or his thinning patience. He gets a bit physical and guilt trips the hell out of you. Grabs your face and pushes you down; Making you focus on how badly you fucked up.

"Do you think I enjoy you screaming at me? Through all those difficult times, I've been the one to have your back. From rent to keeping those who wanted nothing but to take advantage of you away- I've only cared for you. If it were up to them, they would've sold you out for just a vile of Shimmer! But me? No, no I would never would give you up for anything. Because I love you. I adore you Y/n. I do this not for my own gain, but because you deserve to be happy. Don't be fooled love..."

He would rather keep you away from his work. He wants to fall into your arms after a long day in the office and or running around trying to find Jinx. Silco doesn't need you to question his authority as future ruler of Zaun. He already deals with that from ungrateful underlings. He doesn't need that from you either.

Definition of touchy. Has a bad habit of invading your personal space out of nowhere and demanding your time of day. His favorite act of affection is holding and taking you in as you two stand. It's mighty awkward, but Silco thinks it's nice. Cuddling makes him feel too vulnerable and kind of childish, so this gives him somewhat of a limit.

Kiss him on the disfigured side of his face and he'll get sentimental. He won't cry much- maybe let a tear run down when you're not looking. He cherishes you so much despite his actions sometimes saying otherwise.

Silco doesn't feel ugly or extremely insecure because of the disfigurement. Rather he feels changed because of it. As he said, "I let a weak man die that day." Through years of living under the grime and corruption of Zaun, he's come to accept things as they are.

He does not give two shits what you do. As long as you don't die, run away, or mess with his plans, go at it. Obviously there is a limit to things, (Such as no explosives or Jinx-like foolery) but everything you used to do in your normal life is available. Other than being an independent person that is.

Silco doesn't stress too much if you run away. As long as you're in Zaun or Piltover, you will never really leave his grasp.

Being on the run in Zaun is some shoulder deep shit. He has eyes everywhere, so getting an update of your recapture isn't much but of an hour behind schedule.

If you somehow get to Piltover, he'll push everything and everyone out of the way to recapture you. Marcus better hope you're taken back soon. If not, Silco will have near impossible demands for him to carry out. Fuck the council, and fuck the citizens of Piltover. Silco cannot rest until you're dragged back down into the murky waters of Zaun and be drowned for your crimes against his heart.

But if you really aren't giving into things over a certain period of time, Silco will be forced to dispose of you. It's not you, it's him. He would crawl to the ends of the Earth for you, but the combination of his feelings and your blatant displeasure is just too much. He cannot falter- He will not wither because of something he foolishly called "love". So when he decides to get rid of you, he will come and do it personally. Cut off a weak part of him just as he did before.

[cupoftaae]

Heyy! Love your work💜 Could you maybe write something fluffy, where tae is y/n’s comfort and she goes to him after a bad day🫶🏻

Hello there! AW, thank you for reading!

Fluffy taehyung is my weakness, I hope you enjoy anon :)

warnings- mentions of weed, swearing. Soft taehyung needs his own warnings tbh. also this takes place as if they were both like, 19-20 ish ....KIND OF FRIENDS TO LOVERS LOWKEY

wanna build a pillow fort? -KTH drabble

you werent sure how you had landed in this position in the first place, but here you were, sitting in the living room while your parents explained to you that...well...the college you had been praying to get into one day had declined you.

"are you sure?" you whispered, watching your dad show you the letter. You sighed, trying to hold back any signs of emotion. You had taken a gap year between graduating high school to now, just to grasp your bearings. You put all your energy into working and getting into school, but the universe had other plans.

"I know you wanted this so badly, y/n, im sorry" your mother sat down next to you. "What am I gonna do? I had no backup plan..." your face falls into your hands. "your so young, you have time. you can also sign up to take classes, you dont need to be a student" your mom adds.

"but I wanna be a student, thats the whole point."

"listen, I know this is stressful, but just go get some rest and maybe we can figure out a new plan tomorrow? ok?" your father stands up, looking at you sadly.

You shrugged, knowing that they were just trying to help, but there was no way out of this, you were fucking upset.

Once you had gotten into your room, slamming your door shut, you collapsed onto your bed and took 5 deep breathes, you didnt want to cry. You were a big girl now and crying over school was dumb. You just wanted to be with someone right now, and your best friend was 3 streets over, making things difficult.

You could invite him over, but your father wasnt too pleased to see him late at night the last time he was here. He had walked in and alerted your dog, making him bark until your parents came downstairs, freaked out. They also just dont like the idea of a boy being in your room, despite the fact you are 19, and have been friends with taehyung since you were little....there were absolutely no feelings like that showing up... at least thats what you chose to believe.

You quickly texted him just to see if he was even up to hang.

You: wyd

Tae: making ramen, wbu?

you smiled and chose to ignore his message, making the quick decision to grab your jacket and sneak out your window. Youve only done this one other time, and it was when you had covid and your friend Vanessa dropped off chipotle outside on your side of the house for you.

You prayed to God that your parents had no installed cameras, because one, you didnt want to get caught, and two, you fell on your ass on the way out. "Jesus christ" you scoff, getting up and making a dash to taehyungs house in the dark.

-

Taehyung was standing in the kitchen and dancing to music with his dog, making his little paws move according to the choreography. "Why are you making food so late?" Taehyungs mother spoke, coming into the room to fill up her tea. "because its friday.." he mumbled, mouth full of noodles.

"Okay" she laughed and shook her head, "just clean up, yeah? oh, an-"

his mother was cut off by the front door being knocked on, "who is here at this hour?" she whispered, walking over to look through the peep hole. She sarcastically looked back at taehyung, "why is y/n on my front step?" she smirked.

"she is??" he walked over to the door.

"you know if you wanted to plan a date, I could have made real food for you guys"

"mom stop" he shyly shushed her before opening the door.

"hello" you mumble, bowing at the presence of his mother.

"Hey, y/n...is everything alright?" he asks, his mother gently pulling you inside. "its almost 11 dear" she spoke.

"Im ok, Im just needing some time out of my house, I hope im not intruding?"

"oh no, no, sweetie youre good" she smiled and closed the door.

Taehyung hugged you and glanced at his mom

"i'll be upstairs if you need anything" she spoke, grabbing her tea and walking upstairs before yelling "Be good, just not too good"

He laughed and pulled away to look at you. "Not that I mind your presence, but...why are you here?"

you giggled as he took your coat and hung it up. "well....I uhm" you looked around before sitting on the edge of the couch. "I didnt get in" you shrugged, forced smile on your face.

"hm? what are you talking about?" he stands in front of you

"I received a letter in the mail today from HUFS, and it was declining my application" you speak softly, watching him frown.

"y/n...Im so sorry"

"its okay, its just a lot, but i'll be fine."

He kneeled in front of you and held your hands, "you know...its okay to be sad, right?" he whispers, "that was your dream school.."

you nodded, wanting to sink into the floor the moment you felt tears prickling your eyes. "I know, but...something new will come. I just really wanted to be like you, in school and working towards my degree already, you know?" you shrug.

he nods, "I know, but.." he squeezed your hands, "life isnt a competition, we all do things when the universe pulls us in that direction. Its ok this didnt work out, maybe it was for the best. I know you, y/n, and whatever you do in life is going to be fucking amazing, no doubt about it. So be sad, mourn what you will miss, but dont let it hold you back."

you nodded as tears escaped your eyes, small cries falling from your lips as he immediately held you up and wrapped you into his arms. "Its okay....I promise" he coo'd, hand brushing your hair as you finally let yourself feel upset.

"thank you" you sniff, wiping your eyes as you hold him.

"cmon, lets go eat junkfood and build a fort" he squeezed your waist, making you blush slightly as you followed him to the kitchen. "a fort?" you asked, eyes still wet.

"mhm, with like the pillows and stuff" he spoke, taking another bite of noodles.

you giggle, "ok"

-

You two sat under a giant pillow fort, with a blanket over the head for the roof. "I have to say, your pillow fort making skills have improved. Remember when we were little and it would always collapse on us?" you snorted, nudging him.

"I have improved and grown in many ways, trust the process of time" he joked, taking a bite of the chip in his hand.

He definitely had grown and improved, taking a moment to look over his face proves the fact that Taehyung had matured quite nicely at that.

"dont stare its rude" he teased, finding something to watch on youtube.

You shake your head, "sorry" you lean over to lay beside him so you can see the screen of his laptop.

"Your parents wont like...kill me...if they find out you spent the night, right?"

you giggle, "am I spending the night?"

"well, you dont have to, I just assumed because its already 1am and its not safe for you to be out and about"

you shook your head, "what? so I dont have what it takes to fight off street hagglers?"

"oh you do, Im keeping you off the street for their safety" he spoke seriously, making you laugh.

"mm, and no, my parents arent gonna do anything, I dont think....maybe.....you know what? I dont know"

"oh that makes me feel good" he fake pouts

"Im teasing, im 19 and they need to get over keeping me locked up all the time..." you play with the fabric of the blanket.

"I think your dad hates me, dude" he sighed, shutting his laptop and leaving you both to lay in the dark as you looked up at the green blanket roof.

"shut up, he does not"

"He told me that he didnt want me showing up there anymore"

"thats because it was 4am and you scared the dog, I told you to come in through the window you fucking dumbass" you joked, "he also caught you with weed, so there you go"

"hm, fair I guess" he sighed

"he doesnt hate you I promise" you turned on your side to face him, not realizing how close your faces were.

He turned his head, noses barley touching as you both looked over each others faces in the dark.

"are you feeling better?" he whispered

"yeah...yeah I am" you mumbled, wanting to pull away but also choosing to stay put.

"good" he smiled and turned his body so it was also laying on his side, facing you.

"Y/n?" he asked

"yeah?"

"is it ok if I kiss you?"

you felt your hear stop in your chest, what did he just ask you?

"w-what?" you look at him, eyes wide

"I asked if I could kiss you?" he repeated, voice so soft and quiet. "its ok to say no" he added.

you took a breath, realizing that in moments like this, you really have to be honest with yourself and stop saying you aren't attracted to him, because here he is, in front of you, asking to kiss after taking his time to make you feel better. You can only hold on to your discipline so much before you fold.

"yeah...yeah you can kiss me, tae" you exhale, shocked the words even came from your mouth.

His large hand came up to hold your face delicately, thumb brushing your skin as you both leaned in slowly until each others lips clashed. The feeling felt a lot more natural than you anticipated, it wasn't weird, or awkward or cringe, it felt....right?

If tae's plan was to make you fully forget about that college letter, than goal achieved.

You knew you both would have to talk about this later, at some other time when your mouths weren't attached to each other, but for now all you wanted to do was be thankful for him.

you gently pulled back and giggled like a little girl, a blush creeping over your face as he pulled you against his chest. There were no words or jokes, you both simply laid together before eventually falling asleep in each others embrace.

Maybe he was right about better things coming, and maybe this was it.

A/N- this was so cute I was kicking my feet and giggling while writing, we all need our own taehyung.

[diabolikpersonals]

sorry for such a broad question but in your opinion is laito a well written character relative to everyone in diabolik? i really Want to learn more about him but i also dont want to subject myself to All That and i just want to know if he's worth reading about or just a pile of interesting plot threads thrown together for shock factor and unfulfilled thematically.

like my current personal opinion (may be wrong) is that i dont feel satisfied with the idea of yui's love or proactiveness fixing laito in any way because it doesn't mesh well with the actual ideas surrounding his character and unpacking that love is not poison goes beyond romantic love or a singular place of understanding. additionally it doesn't feel earned it feels like a chore for the player to trudge though for the sake of reading. i dont want to read laito's story that bad if it's the case yet im intrigued by the things offered by his character like the processing of the deeply visceral way csa shatters who you are

I wanted to wait till I finished his CL to answer so I'd be fully caught up with laito's routes, but that'll take too long so.....!! I might change my answer later!! lmao

[tw laito stuff, csa and suicide, yeah]

I do think Laito's a well-written character but his stuff is really difficult to get through if you have certain triggers, so it's tough to recommend. Even beyond the csa stuff, Laito is in a real hurry to die and he makes several attempts throughout the series. There's a certain unique sort of awfulness, at least for me, involving scenes where a character fails a suicide attempt and then get even more upset and desperate about it. So I understand what you mean when you say you're not excited about putting yourself through it. They were the hardest routes for me to get through too :')

A lot of earlier games suffer from endings that are like "And the two lived happily ever after, and we're not gonna unpack all that stuff!" and Laito's routes are no exception, but if you can look past that and make it to LE, I wouldn't say that Laito gets fixed. He has an ending similar to Ayato's that's like, it feels like we fixed everything but in reality we couldn't overcome the core issue! They really seem to believe that Laito absolutely can't be happy or live a normal life the way he is now. He has to die and/or rewrite his memories to be comfortable loving someone. It's up to your tastes if that's satisfying or not, but I kind of love the bittersweetness of LE endings, and the way they feel like a happy ending until you think about them a little too hard.

What's interesting is that Yui's purehearted love often hurts Laito more than it helps him. He responds to love, from Yui or from his family members, with revulsion. There's jealousy when he interacts with straightforward characters like Yui or Ayato, like "If only I could be as simple and pure as you, but nope, I can't." He's very self-aware for a diaboy, which only makes it hurt more when he keeps arriving at the conclusion that he's rotten. He definitely makes progress, which is really satisfying to see, like how he gradually allows Ayato back in his life emotionally. But as of right now, the end of his arc is so, like, "I tried, really I did! But my perspective on love is fucked and I need a hard reset! Maybe I'll be normal in the next life but definitely not this one!! Bye!"

...So, it's hard to say if you'll be happy with it. I see a lot of mixed opinions concerning the LE endings. They often give the diaboy what he wants but not what he needs, so you're left going, "Wait, I don't know about this...!" A lot of people really hate these endings, but they actually get more interesting to me the more conflicted they make me feel...and oh boy, was I conflicted about this one! :'D

If it sounds interesting to you, too, and you don't mind some pretty brutal scenes along the way, give Laito's routes a try. His HDB will definitely make you mad though lol

[redr0sewrites]

Kim'dael x reader Headcanons

she is criminally underrated omfg here are some headcanons reqs are open!

🥀CW: nsfw, mommy kink, blood/knife kink, thirst and filth, bondage, mentions of wlw sex ig?

🥀 minors dni with the nsfw part

SFW:

SHE PAINTS HER NAILS ALL DIFFERENT COLORS ALL THE TIME

shes gotten really good at it, and she will do yours if you want her too

shes a really intense lover, but has a softer side

shes always flirting with you, and enjoys seeing you flustered

she will let you do her makeup, and will be smirking at you the ENTIRE time

she will teach you how to fight and defend yourself if you dont already know how

she has lots of enemies, and wants to make sure your safe

she has lived a long time, and knows how to read people very well. she can always tell when your feeling upset, but will wait for you to talk to her sbout it as she doesnt want to intrude

i feel like she would give you lots of gifts, shes not necessarily good with words but she will gift u lots of charms and trinkets. if she sees you wearing any jewelry shes given you, her heart will flutter a little

there has to be a lot of trust and communication within the relationship, kim'dael knows she isnt the easiest to love and that her life is difficult

if anything were to happen to you, she would go apeshit even if your wounded with just a scratch whoever hurt you is going to PAY

she likes really long, intimate kisses that lead into messy makeout sessions

if you let her drink your blood, she will be very, VERY careful not to hurt you or take too much

she finds your blood especially strong because of your bond and your love so she will save it for special occasions

she is very intelligent, and she enjoys talking about complex things with you

she plans ahead alot, and is always very punctual for dates

she INSISTS on paying for you milf behavior

she is very passionate about her past and her beliefs, and if you feel otherwise that may lead ot disagreements

she doesn't like avizandum or any of the archdragons very much

she mourns the moonshadow companions that she lost so long ago, but acts like it doesnt bother her anymore

NSFW

DOM DOM DOM

if you have a vampire kink your in luck

she is SUPER into marking and by the end of the night your skin is covered in bite marks and scratches

seeing you bloody is a turn on for her, and she has a knife kink. she wont hurt you too bad, but enjoys running the knife over you during sex and watching you shiver from the cold metal

super into bondage (i forget the fancy name) and will tie you up with thick red ropes in intricate designs

she will tease you for HOURS before the sex even starts

if you have boobs, she will ravish them

she also enjoys if you mark or play with hers, and will smirk the whole time

she prefers recieving to giving, and will pull on your hair when your going down on her

she will not be afraid to grind her hips on your face, she LOVES seeing your face all messy from her cunt

she also enjoys riding your face, your fucked out expression is something she cherishes

very much into scissoring teehee

if u have a cock, she LOVES riding you until your whimpering she will not let you cum until she does

SO MUCH DEGRADING SHE IS MEAN

mommy kink? mommy kink

"awe, your gonna come already? thats too bad, mommy hasn't come yet.. i guess if you beg really sweetly, mommy might let you come sooner. come on, i know you can do better then that doll~"

scratches you down your back with her long nails and will watch as you squirm and whimper

she is also into pain herself and would very much enjoy it if you gave her hickeys

POSSESSIVE POSSESSIVE POSSESSIVE

she is into public sex, its such a turn on for her if you guys are almost caught

sex in the woods/outdoor sex is definitely a yes for her

she can go all night, shes not stopping until you both are more than satisfied

SHE IS SO UNDERRATED WHERE ARE THE FICS FOR HER??? auugh she is so fine. reqs are open, lmk if you want more! i tried to make this gender neutral, but i feel like she would be more inclined towards a female/gender neutral partner however this can be seen as a male reader :) lmk if there are any mistakes!

[mommalosthermind]

How do you block and filter fics with rampant racist micro aggression since that's never tagged properly and the writer will have a white meltdown if they're ever confronted with the fact their fic is racist?

I honestly can’t tell if this was in earnest or if it’s meant to be another Gotcha! Attempt from one of the anti-censorship posts I’ve annoyed people with, so I’m going to assume it’s the first and do my best to answer.

As a white woman, I am definitely not someone who should be speaking on racism, since the systemic issues I deal with are very very different.

Unfortunately, though, your experience with such a fic is going to mirror what I’d imagine is also your experience with most other forms of media which don’t flag that kind of behavior: bail. Back out. Don’t finish the thing that is upsetting you. Possibly, (as I’ve done with authors on issues that hit home for me) take note of who’s behind the thing so you know to avoid them in the future, as they’ve broken that trust.

This is also known as curating your space. I don’t remember if I go on that rant in the other two (three?) posts that seem to have picked up, but that’s the READER’s side of the equation. Find your garden and tend it well, keep it how you like it, because it is for you and you alone.

My job as a writer is to tag to the best of my ability so you know exactly what you’re bringing into your garden. I don’t want to spoil your flowers anymore than I want someone to trample on mine.

Hopefully, as people talk about this more, authors will be more open to tagging/ modifying and/or adding a footnote for things exactly like this.

Micro aggressions are especially difficult, since (again, pulling purely from my lived experiences) getting folk to agree on what ‘counts’ is rough. But as an author— I want to share my stories. That’s the point! If I’ve written it, then I damn well better be self-aware enough to tag it, and be willing to ADD TAGS so I’m not breaking trust with the people I’m trying to give nice things to. Hopefully that makes sense?

I’m gonna say that again since I feel it needs it: if you’re comfortable enough to write the Real World problem happening, you’re fully capable of being able to recognize why someone might like the warning. Be kind. Tags only work if you use them.

On AO3, I believe they recently made it possible to block an author entirely, so they no longer show up in the results for your searches.

I’ve run across exactly one author I’d have blocked if it was possible at the time, because he refused to add tags to a story that… really needed tags. And, going through the comments in later chapters, dozens of people have asked him to update tags. He claims that doing so will ‘ruin the story’ despite the graphic raped-to-death-then-magically-revived bit having literally nothing to do with the plot at all. Instead, it comes out of literally nowhere in an otherwise really well written tale, and was deeply deeply upsetting to the point that his response to my first chapter squee was “yeah, tell me if you still like it after chapter X”. (Unfortunately i am a very fast reader and had already gotten that far and bailed immediately. Dude if you KNOW it’s THAT upsetting to so many people ADD THE TAG.)

I’ll never read anything he’s written again, just like I refuse to read anything by JKR ( awful human) or Terry Goodkind (I can’t stand how he handles his female characters. At all.)

Obviously these two examples are not identical, but it’s the main comparison I have on hand.

This isn’t meant to sound like I’m belittling or downplaying that concern at all. But until people get better at tagging—and I really wish traditional books and other media would ALSO tag, because I’m very very tired of running into Specific Things without any fucking warning— you have to protect yourself and your happy place by putting up a fence, and booting unsavory things right back over it.

—side note: for those worried about spoiling the plot you can…skip the tags... just know you’re choosing to walk in blind. OR! And I wish i could figure it out—you can add! A hyperlink! That takes you to the footnote at the BOTTOM to add things that deserve a warning but might be spoilers! There’s even a tag for that! ‘More tags in notes!’ These are good and useful things! Use them so your readers can better curate their spaces!—

The system isn’t perfect by any means. There are a million ways to improve, and we’re trying! But please, please y’all use the damn tags because right now it’s the only system we’ve got. Take care of each other.

[mycarebears]

Bad Omens

"Well then why didn't you leave?"

"Because that’s what you do when you love somebody. That’s what I do for you because I love you and no matter what you do to me that refuses to leave, no matter how painful. I stay for the good times, and endure the hard times. For you.”

Warnings - Yelling I suppose (It's just capitals)

Word count - 1.3K

Neutral characters (c/n is characters name)

You got out of the car angrily after getting lectured on the tone of voice you used to speak to him just moments prior, slamming the door behind you accidentally.

“And there you go again! For fucks sake y/n. Sick of your shit.” C/n shouted initially before reducing his voice down to a murmur only you could hear for the final blow.

He closed the car door gently behind him.

You stopped, shocked that he was yelling and being so rude.

Taking a deep breath in, you turned around to face him while he locked the car and rubbed a smudge off the window with his sleeve.

“What’s your problem tonight? I didn’t even mean to close it like that and you know it.”

You ask, trying to keep calm, which was becoming increasingly difficult given his cold stare, as if it was obvious why he was upset.

“You never talk to me anymore y/n, and when you do you’re cold and distant. I can never please you no matter what and when we speak you want to argue. I feel like I can’t even be around my own girlfriend anymore because you make me feel awful.”

You look at him silently. Did he really think that?

You continued to speak as the two of you walked into the house.

“Well I’m sorry but it’s not like you’re any better. You don’t even look at me anymore. When you do look at me, it’s right before you throw a discreet insult about my hair, or my makeup, or my clothes. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore.”

The look in his eyes was stoic as he shut the front door, and you could tell he was going to throw something very rough out into the open to cut through whatever skin you had built being in the relationship.

“You feel like I don’t like how you look? Is that why you’re looking elsewhere for attention?”

He threw it at you, and you didn’t quite understand what he was getting at.

“What are you trying to say c/n?”

“I know you love someone else. Why else would you be so cold towards me and make up all these lies about how I don’t like the way you look? Just because you don’t want to be here doesn’t mean I don’t.”

The pain the one statement put you in was incredible.

“Do you really think that lowly of me? Think that I would cheat on you rather than just break it off if I really didn’t want to be here?”

He looked at you, trying to read your expression, searching for the truth in your words he wanted so badly to ignore.

“Maybe. I don’t even know who you are anymore. You’re nothing like how you were when we started dating.”

Every second this went on it broke your heart more. You would never cheat on him, ever.

“C/n, I love you. But I do not recognise the person you’ve become either. You’ve changed, in a way I’m not sure if I like. You never listen to me anymore. You don’t look at me the same way you used to. Fuck- you think I would cheat on you. Are you really that estranged from the person I am that you truly think that of me?”

You felt the need to continue and rant about how he is losing touch with not only himself but also you.

“I don’t know what to think anymore. I feel like if you aren’t getting it from me, who must you be supplementing it with?”

Looking at him felt foreign. This tone, this conversation, all uncharted territory and you hated it. It was uncomfortable and you wish that you could end the talk and just go sleep in your respective separate spaces.

Sleeping in the same bed was just not an option after the fights had started.

Deep down, you felt like he was cheating. Why else would he think you were? Was he trying to pin the blame so he could leave for the new girl and have no judgement placed on him?

“Well if I’m meant to be supplementing your lacking affection with someone else’s, does that not mean you are doing the same? Who have you been fucking c/n? WHO HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING?”

He turned away, running his hands through his hair as if pulling it out was his only stress reliever.

“Y/n. You’re being ridiculous-“

“I'M BEING RIDICULOUS? YOU ACCUSED ME OF CHEATING! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU C/N?”

You continued, feeling as if the depth of your words weren’t completely sinking in.

“If you really distrust me that much, maybe we should just break up.”

He turned back to face you, in shock.

“And why would we do that? What would we do without each other?”

The look on his face was unreadable. He stepped closer to you, almost like he needed to cage you in, afraid you would leave.

“We are good. We argue. Then we fight. Then we jump right back to the start again. I can’t do it anymore. It’s been happening for too long and I can’t handle it anymore c/n. It’s not good for you and it’s not good for me. We are stupid for staying together so long. Really, this should’ve ended when we had to sleep in separate spaces because we couldn’t even be in the same bed without arguing. It should’ve ended right then and there, just like my hope for our future.”

He looked up at the roof, clearly trying to fight the tears in his waterline threatening to spill over.

“Well you could’ve left. If you wanted to leave so bad and for us to be over, why didn’t you leave? Why are we still here?”

His words hurt but they were true. Why didn’t you leave?

“We go round the cycle again, we jump back in bed. Because that’s what you do when you love somebody. That’s what I do for you because I love you and no matter what you do to me that refuses to leave, no matter how painful. I stay for the good times, and endure the hard times. For you.”

His face was unreadable. He opened his mouth as of to speak before shutting it and going to speak again, mulling over his own words.

“I don’t know what to do to make us better y/n. I love you with every fibre of my being, but I feel like nothing I do is good enough, and trust me, I really want to be good enough. I want you to want me.”

You could put a list together of the stuff he needed to work on before you would be truly happy, and you’re sure he could make one for you, but that wasn’t what mattered now.

He wanted you, and you wanted him.

No matter what, the two of you were going to make it work.

That was all that mattered.

You walked over to him slowly before he extended his arms and pulled you in tight.

Sobbing into your hair, he apologised.

“I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean you cheated on me, I know you’re better than that and I’m sorry for ever even making you feel like I didn’t trust you.”

You hold him tighter and listen to the erratic sounds of his breathing.

“Hey hey, it’s alright. I think we can make it work, we will. It’s just going to take some time and some compromise. I love you and I love that you are going to try to me.”

He stopped sobbing, instead just holding you tightly and kissing your hair, pulling you impossibly closer into his chest.

“Do you think maybe- we could try sleeping in the same bed again? My backs really suffering on the couch. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just think I want to hold you tonight, if that’s okay.”

He asked nervously, as you pulled him closer.

“I think that’s a good start on our new us.”

[tonydaddingham]

went through the playlists just reading the lyrics without listening to the songs and promptly lost my mind. like, az may be happier about the world at large, but his love songs are every bit as angsty as crowley's and there is just as much yearning and devotion and anguish in there if you only take the lyrics, it just gets covered up because the music itself is so much peppier/less dramatic so the pain is kinda hidden. and there's definitely a metaphor for the different ways they deal with emotion in there that my brain is too tired to grasp right now.

p.s. has anyone figured out an interpretation for every breath you take that doesn't make crowley seem like a stalker or are we just going to collectively ignore that?

oh hey anon how you doin hows it hangin boo ✨

tbh (and i know people might come for me on this) i think everyone has gotten so hung up on these playlists being completely about each other when they're not, necessarily?

like aziraphale's playlist reflects himself so much, the whimsy and romanticism (in general), and the delicate awe of the world around him that he's come to love and be proud of, as well as his own heartfelt hopes not just where crowley is concerned but what he wants for himself? it's difficult to not read overmuch into the playlists but nina simone and sting? if i were convinced for one second that aziraphale listened to music from like post-1910, these are his guilty pleasure songs

crowley strikes me as being way more emotional in his music choices - that he'd listen to music that reflects his mood, not listen to music to change or influence his mood (if this makes sense). it's angsty and guttural and reflects more his past experiences... and yes it's more overtly romantic (specific) and cathartic but again it's not necessarily just about aziraphale - the REM and velvet??? cmon these are so coded to his state of mind as well as his state of heart, those are fucking trAUMA songs

but I totally agree with you that the romantic-er songs on them completely reflect how they are both handling their respective feelings. what kills me is that crowley's playlist almost feels like it's beyond pining and is now in the mindset that he'll love az from afar but accept that it'll never be reciprocated, and instead he's resigned himself to just being grateful for what he has, not upset for what he doesn't (specifically hozier and fleetwood here - Dreams was a choice)

aziraphale's is more emerging and revelatory, like now that his preoccupation with heaven has been stripped away, all of these feelings are starting to make themselves known, rearing their heads above the parapet just in case they can finally be let free (specifically abba and dcfc here). unfortunately, and whilst i think there will be a very sudden acceleration in s2, aziraphale is just still a few steps behind crowley. aziraphale is the type to (let himself fully) fall in love slowly, then all at once 💓

re: every breath you take - here's my take: kind of in the same vein as above, whilst yes this song is problematic, it does also really accurately describe the feelings of possession and obsession, and of feeling lost without someone... which, and i mean this as kindly as possible, crowley has a lot of these feelings, and a wee incompetency in restraining it ✨

wow that was a lot sorry

[itsjules-here]

Five (5) Harry Potter (trans rights) fics to read before you die

That’s right I’m talking about the series written by that stupid fucking transphobe. Harry Potter defined so much of my childhood and growing up as a fan and also realizing that I’m trans was a really difficult experience for me. It kills me that something that used to bring me so much joy is now tainted by the author’s awfulness. Not to say the series isn’t without its inherent problems like the antisemitism, the weird slavery attitude, the disgusting fatphobia, and general homophobia.

Personally, I don’t consider anything outside the books to be canon; this gives me so much more breathing room as a fan to imagine a better wizarding world. Basically, if that bloody TERF had to specify it outside the books then I don’t care – she could have written it in but chose not to, once the book is out there EVERY interpretation becomes valid and if I decide that everyone was trans and also banging each other then I get to do that. Get fucked Joanne.

That TERF has also tried to sue fan works in the past and has said quite a bit about how much she dislikes fanfiction. But you see, I already want to upset her so I will be continuing to enjoy these fanworks that were, in some way, a great source of joy for me, something comforting in a world that seems to get more and more complicated and cruel every day. So this is a countdown of the five Harry Potter fics I recommend to everyone. You don’t have to agree with my list, but I just wanted to put it out there because it’s been on my mind lately.

5. My Immortal by “Tara Gillespie or XXXbloodyrists666XXX”: It’s the OG bad fanfic you have to read it to appreciate how awful it is. You don’t have to finish it, but you do have to cry limpid tears over it. Rated M on fanfiction.net CW for really extraordinarily bad writing, mentions of self harm and suicide, pedophilia, underage sex, and did I mention really really bad writing.

4. Turn by Saras_Girl This is THE Drarry fic. It looks at how one small change can have ramifications over time so if you’re a fan of the butterfly effect this is the fic for you. Rated E for sex scenes and mental health struggles. Technically canon compliant all the way to the epilogue but like, not.

3. Oh God Not Again! By Sarah1281 This is objectively the funniest fic written for this series. Adult Harry sassing everyone in sight is a fucking hoot. If you loved sassy Harry this one’s for you. Harry is accidentally sent back to his 11th birthday in 1991 at the age of 23 trapped in his 11 year old body but with all his memories and he apparently does not give a single fuck. Rated G but with trigger warning for canon-typical murder and violence, child endangerment, and sass so good it burns you through the screen.

2. Harry Potter and the Lack of Lamb Sauce by imagitory AKA the Gordon Ramsay fic. Yes, instead of Slughorn coming to teach potions in the Half-Blood Prince, its Gordon Fucking Ramsay and he has a bone to pick with Dumbledore about watching all this child abuse and doing nothing about it. It’s also Ron-centric which is so important because a lot of the fandom tends to characterize Ron as a horrible person when he’s the first person who saw past what Harry is to WHO Harry is and his strength in owning up when he does the wrong thing is actually very important to the series. Rated G, follows the canon ships, very very well written.

And finally . . .

1. Casting Moonshadows by Moonsign. You can keep your ‘The Shoebox Project’ and your ‘All the Young Dudes’ THIS is the Marauders fic for me. It is just so perfect in the way it develops not just Remus and Sirius but also James, Lily, Peter, Frank, Alice, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary and heaps of others. It made me care about the OCs! Its is a Wolfstar fic with background Jily and it is the greatest. It balances the angst and the fluff and as far as I’m concerned is canon compliant. This FEELS like a Harry Potter story, just with the way the narrative goes and it sucks you in so quickly with one of the best opening lines:

“Remus had always thought of memories as being like framed photographs on a shelf. Most of them were placed in the sun and faded over time. Sometimes the colour faded, leaving only a vague sense of the time; the outlines of a memory that changed a little with retelling. Sometimes it was the outlines that faded so the colour remained in bright, vivid blurs – a real sense of the time but no details.”

This fic will break you and then put you back together. It is rated M for sex in later chapters, quite a bit of violence, child endangerment, and mental health struggles. If you’re someone who is squicked by underage sex between two consenting teenagers or just not into sex in fanfic in general you can skip the sex scenes as they do not generally contain any plot.

PS Thanks for reading the whole thing! Trans Rights!

[consolecadet]

I'm feeling slightly less seething Christmas hatred than usual this year. I've reached a point where, though I still strongly dislike a lot of things about Christmas, I can separate out the different bits and not let the ones I hate make me cranky about the ones I like.

Like. . .I despise Christmas music, "ugly sweaters", the Salvation Army, jingly little bells, eggnog, candy canes, big hunks of ham, Christmas media, the crushing expectation that you must put on the cheerful rictus of The Christmas Spirit, elves (Santa can stay but only if he's gay), most Christian conceptions of religious entities, people's assumptions that you have a pleasant and uncomplicated relationship with your family of origin, the planet-burning American culture of consumption, proselytization, those new LED string lights that make your front lawn look like a gamer lair, etc, etc, etc.

But I do like peppermint bark, the smell of balsam fir, cheese plates, a short visit to my parents' nice house where trans people outnumber cis people 2:1 and I can always get into my car and drive away, knowing my sister will cherish any lesbian-themed objects I give her, incandescent string lights, neatly wrapping presents with nice paper and double-sided tape, and I guess Die Hard.

My local Buy Nothing group means I no longer have nearly as much of a guilt spiral about receiving gifts I dislike. I believe I've finally gotten my father to stop giving me novelty socks and awful plasticky novelty band-aids. (Actually, maybe I'm giving myself too much credit. I just realized the store where he bought his most irritating gifts closed permanently in 2020.) I also just don't take it as personally when people give me something that betrays a major misapprehension of who I am. It's not like I make it easy for people to know me, especially my parents.

I think part of what's making this time of year less psychologically harrowing is that 1) I got to do Christmas and Hanukkah with KC and without my parents last year, and thus reject within our apartment everything I hated while keeping the menorah and peppermint bark and 2) I spent some time this year trying to practice Judaism in ways my dad was not interested in sharing with me when I was growing up, and figured out what I did/didn't like or value about certain aspects of Jewish religious practice.

It seems very obvious that if I can give up on learning Hebrew because it's upsetting and difficult for me and have a seder with gluten-free matzo that doesn't halachically qualify as Real Matzo, I can absolutely also banish the concept of Christ and all renditions of Silent Night from my home while enjoying smelling a tree in there.

It's extremely common to be a child of an agnostic interfaith couple who did not give you a connection to any kind of faith community and left you with lots of baggage about it. I don't have to wait to fix my feelings about that before I can participate in any holiday or religious practice, and probably HAVE to try participating with a modicum of vulnerability if I want to change anything. Also none of these things materially affect Israel's genocidal behavior unless I, like, buy my parents SodaStream canisters for Christmas.

It probably also helps that I left the job where my boss expected extreme enthusiasm at all times and took any doubt or questions as personal affronts. I read The Promise of Happiness and no longer feel like affect alienation is a personal failing on my part. I feel far less bitter, resentful, and hateful about Christmas if I don't let people pressure me to be (or perform being) sweet, cheerful, and loving about it.

Fuck the Elf on the Shelf though. That's just weird.

[annahxredaxted]

(My first Ao3 post!!! )

Milo/Sweetheart read here on Ao3!

Taglist

@itsdaifuku @darlin-collins @youisagayhooman @verrverii @shellssstuff

Wc: 817

—-

Oh milo the way you make them feel. The way they wish the could describe to you. Even if you would try to he wouldn’t even be able to fathom the possible feelings. He would struggle to grasp the depth of your love for him.

The way he hummed his favorite billy Joel songs, how he sang only the lines he knew and then went back to humming after realizing he didn’t know the full song. The way he swayed his hips and tapped his foot to the rythem of the music.

And all the little things. Like remember you only liked the crunchy grapes, or that you hated doing laundry, but loved to do the dishes. Or how you couldn’t necessarily sit still for a full film, so he would listen to your random tangents with l ove and admiration deep in his irises.

The way he would make sure you were comfortable at all times, remind you that he’d loved you more than life it’s fucking self. How during an argument he would still remind you he loved you— that he wasn’t mad at you but at your actions.

And he wanted to make sure that you felt loved and admired constantly. Day and night till there way no doubting his undying love for you.

“Sweetheart? Hey baby what’s wrong?” Milo question, looking at you as he set the chives down to look at you.

You looked at him, a fake smile creeping it’s way up your pretty face.

“Wrong? Nothings wrong I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” You brushed it off trying to act normal but the pounding thoughts of worthlessness beat you down.

Milo scoffed.

“Yeah okay.” He rolled his eyes. Milo dusted his hands off on his apron and padded over to your tired self.

Taking your chin into his hands in order to raise your face to look him in the eye. He investigated your facial expressions. Checking if something— anything seemed out of the ordinary, observing every mole, or freckle that kissed your smooth skin.

As he did so he pulled you closer for a hug. He held you tight not letting you go. He knew. He always knows.

Why you thought you could hide it from him? That’s one thing He’ll never know nor understand.

Milo rose his lips to be next to your ear. Opening his mouth to speak as his warm breath made you shiver.

“What happened sweetheart?” He whispered, taking his palm to the back of your head laying it on his bare shoulder

you stuttered, not being able to find the words. As if your breath was stuck deep in your throat. But he knew this trait of you as well. Whenever you got upset you found it difficult to talk.

He slowed you down. Taking a few deep breaths, beckoning for you to copy him.

Before you could take a breather you started tearing up. A hard day at work really took a toll on your mental being. You felt like absolute shit.

Today was exceptionally difficult. You spilt coffee everywhere, people yelled at you all day, traffic was nuts, and everyone at work with the exclusion of a few good people always told you how a young person like yourself wasn’t cut out for the job. “Leave it to the professionals”

It fucking sucked even more when you’d feel like a burden trying to express your feelings to the one you should be 100% open with. And you are! For the most part the stuff you don’t tell him is minor details.

A soft sob escaped your lips. You dropped your work bag beside your feet. Hugging milo tighter now that you had 2 free hands.

He noticed your change in gesture.

“Oh sweetheart..” he muttered, picking you up to take you over to the couch.

Milo sat down with you. Held you. Comforted you. Spoke softly and gently. But you still felt so horrible that he even had to do that for you.

“I— I’m sorry.” You said, pulling your jacket sleeve over your palm to wipe off stray tears.

Milo gasped. Looking at you in awe before talking again.

“Sweetheart no. Of course not, don’t be sorry. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for baby.” He stroked your cheek, saddened at the apology

“Yeah I do,” you scoffed, sitting up straight “,first I interrupted you making dinner, than I rant about shit you don’t even know about and and- I’m just sorry okay.”

Milo hugged them yet again.

“It’s okay sweetheart. I’ll always be here if you need me. And if sometime I need you I know I’ve got you in my corner. Just don’t ever apologize. It ain’t worth the breath.” He said sappily

You smiled at him, teary eyed and a mess. But he didn’t care. He loved you. And you loved him. And that’s all that mattered.

[dashielldeveron]

hello!! i cannot put into words how obsessed with your writing i am! i’m sure you get this all the time but everything from the dialogue to the plot development to the character dynamics is absolutely insane. Seriously if i could write even half as well my ego would be so high it’s a miracle that you are so humble. Your soulmate series is genuinely the best series i’ve ever read on any site! I don’t know if this is odd to say but you write every character like they genuinely are your soulmate. If you said that you know them personally and intimately i would fully believe you. Obviously i have no clue what you do for a living but if it’s not writing you should 100% consider it because the world would be so much better off with more of your work.

I am so devastatingly interested in the shigarki route that you’re writing. His character arc is so interesting and he’s so complex that i’m buzzing with excitement to see what angle you approach while writing for him. Actually with the latest manga chapters, it’s so interesting how the core villains of the series have been denied humanity in some way by the general public and how that’s contributed to how they view themselves and the world (Shigarki especially). You captured that turmoil soo fucking well with Dabi’s route. I just know Shigarki’s chapter is gonna be what kills me.

Please take care of yourself!

!!!!!

>/////< ohhhhhh you are so very kind!!! it really means a lot to me that you would type all of this out to let me know!!!! especially that enormous compliment that it feels like i know the characters, geez!!! i am weaving all of your kind words into a tapestry to hang on my wall so that i can see it and feel all warm.

shigaraki rambling under the cut :)

goddd yes shigaraki is such a little weirdo and i've been so conflicted about where to go with him!!! he's difficult to write, esp. bc fanon and canon are very different; a lot of fanon grounds his behaviour when he's still incel-blue-hair-immature-gamer guy, and he's.............not even really mean? esp. not to the league??? rude, yes, but AFO has trained him to think of himself as an authoritative figure of respect, so of course when dabi is shit-talking tomura like he's just some guy, tomura is gonna get upset about that. he's mostly........pretty polite. eerily calm. not easily scared or startled.

but like. if you read a shigaraki fic, it's expected that he's gonna throw you around or steal your underwear, or something. so i'm nervous that some people are gonna read his route and think he doesn't sound like himself!!! and maybe he doesn't, but i tried v hard; i've reread a bunch of the manga and rewatched some of the anime to take notes about his dialogue and inflection, but i get nervous that bc he's not matching with popular fanon stuff that people are gonna be like "this is just [other character] in a shigaraki hat." but i try. shigaraki is a tough dude to write.

i've been reading shigaraki as being objectified (not in a sexy sense but in a literal sense) in the manga for a long time, so it's validating and awful to see all of these characters just fucking announce that shigaraki is a thing. feels weird, especially bc so much of the manga has been moving towards a message of a kinder humanity, even though i'm not certain hori is pulling that off as clearly as it could be. i worry, but shig is gonna come back to being tenko at the end, i think. i hope this comes across in his route!!!!

and ohhhhhh you had better take care of yourself!!! bc if shigaraki's route is gonna kill you, your funeral will be tonight!!!! (bad metaphor aside: shig's route is gonna be posted tonight, provided my beta reader gets back to me soon.)

thaaaaaaaaank you so much for enjoying my silly fic!!!! i hope the rest of it meets your expectations!!!!! xx.

[weirdcultstuff]

Something I’ve been thinking about lately is how difficult it is to explain my business feelings vs my personal feelings about my dad.

Because like, on a business level, he was the person through whom everything went before it got to me. In our community, his role was to be the head of the family. Through him came every good or bad aspect of the cultural pocket we were in. So as I was growing up, the child training came from him, the sexism came from him, the dress codes came from him, the censored reading material came from him, everything pretty much came from him and a lot of it directly harmed me. So, like, obviously I’m mad about it. I don’t appreciate all those things or the role he played in them. When I am upset about the sexism, child training, neglect, abuse, etc. that was a big part of the community and environment I was raised in, his name comes up an awful lot because he was my window to everything outside of peeling potatoes and the same four walls of our house. That’s the way the community was set up, dads were responsible for executing the community’s ideals and vision and values within each family unit.

But on a PERSONAL level, I also was a part of the whole fucked up community system and I also caused harm to others by fulfilling my assigned role and I usually thought at the time that I wasn’t causing harm even when I was. So on a personal level I do understand how tough that is and the mental gymnastics that must be done in order to make any sense of it all and retain a sense of general sanity. And on a personal level we share a lot of traits, same sense of humor, same tendency towards melancholy, a lot of similar speech patterns and things we value and so on. On a personal level, we both like a lot of similar art and we both like slow walks and we both like good coffee and I think he has good style and I like the furniture and stuff he builds, and he’s fun to go to new places with and talk about podcasts with. So on a personal level, I just genuinely like my dad. It’s not hard to get along with him. It really really sucks to be sort-of-no-contact.

But on a business level, fuck that dude.

And sometimes when I’m talking about him or to him, his business side is more what’s happening and sometimes his personal side is more what’s happening. And that’s really hard to explain to people who have never experienced how cults affect peoples identities/communication patterns/personalities.

On both a business and personal level, fuck cults.