#but god im so sick of this message being pushed

[takemetodragonstone]

okay i’m going to be a bitch for a second but hear me out. i hate posts like this. i hate them so fucking much. they’re branded as “self-care” but they just assume so much. and if the things they’re assuming as givens happen to not be true for you, they make you feel even worse.

“everything that has ever felt like a hurdle, you’ve passed through”. except what if you haven’t? what if life has knocked you down, and you still haven’t figured out how to get back up? what about us?

i’m still afraid of the same things i was afraid of ten years ago (and five years ago and two years ago). i haven’t overcome anything. i haven’t pushed through. i’m alive, but that’s pretty much all i have going for me in terms of survival. i’m actually probably worse off than i was ten years ago.

posts like this have a place in the discussion of mental health, i’m not denying that. if this kind of thing makes you feel better, that’s great. i’m genuinely happy this resonates with so many people. i’m just exhausted with seeing this kind of message presented as The standard of mental health everywhere. this “look how strong you are! look how far you’ve come!” message just rings hollow to me. idk i just think when it comes to mental health we need to get more comfortable talking about people who genuinely aren’t progressing and “overcoming” too.

[emphistic]

Doctor's Orders

Synopsis: Sukuna catches a cold, and isn't able to make it to your guys' planned lunch. Luckily for him, though, you still take the food — as to-go.

A/N: i have a lot of works planned, but im kinda slow, thankfully i have a lot of free time now so i'll try to pump out as much sukuna content as i can

PS: i got sick the second day of writing this, why world? whyyyyy? also, i hated writing this. i am not proud of this whatsoever

Taglist: @starlets-things

You

Hey

R u dead or smth??

You're late

Delivered 25m ago

Those were the last text messages you sent Sukuna, before picking up two hummus wraps and drinks from Sunny's Diner. The two of you were originally supposed to meet up there and have lunch together, but the pink-haired teen wasn't answering his phone, at all.

Now, you stand before his front door. A to-go bag tucked under your arm, and another hand rapidly knocking on the door.

Mr. Itadori — Sukuna's grandpa — wasn't home, you assumed, so you were alone in this.

Sighing, you decided to do this the old fashioned way.

It took you less than five minutes to climb the tree outside of Sukuna's bedroom, and five seconds to crawl on a branch to his window.

Finally, you pressed your face up against his window, and saw Sukuna — still in bed — with the blankets covering all of his body.

You aggressively knocked on his window, and saw him moving under the blankets before sticking a head out. He immediately fell back onto his bed at the sight of you.

He looked awful; there were bags under his eyes; his hair looked like a bird's nest, not to mention, he was sweating all over.

"Open the window!" You shouted, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to not disturb the peace in the neighborhood.

Despite being outside, you could practically imagine his groan at the sound of your voice.

Sukuna knew he had no choice, though, so he begrudgingly got out of bed, and walked — no, wobbled — over to his window. His arms felt like Jell-O as he opened his window, and you crawled into his bedroom.

As soon as your feet touched the floor, you felt a familiar weight fall upon you, before you crashed into the wall and onto the floor. You were in a pile of tangled limbs.

"Sukunaaaaa, oww!" You rubbed your forehead.

You tried to stand back up, but the boy's body would not give you the chance to.

"Get off of me, you slug."

"I'm good." He mumbled into your neck.

"You're too heavy," you pushed at the older's shoulders until he finally rolled off of you.

You sighed in relief. "Thank God."

You stood up, pulling Sukuna with you. Despite his size, you had to practically hold him, and yourself, up.

"You look like shit." You cupped his face to get a good look at his condition.

"Wanted to look like you."

"Well, you failed. I'm flawless."

You maneuvered the boy to his bed and let him flop down onto his stomach, before you rolled him over on his back to a more comfortable position.

You grabbed a blanket and placed it onto Sukuna, and you sat down on the side of his bed, your hand placed just inches away from his head.

"So, like, you gonna tell me what's wrong?" You raised a brow.

"What do you think, dumbass. I'm sick," he coughed, "duh." Sukuna quickly retorted, curling onto his side in order to put his head on your lap.

"How'd you get sick?"

Sukuna glared up at you.

You sigh, carding your fingers through his pink, unruly hair. He hummed, clearly content. And if you didn't know better, you would probably assume he was purring.

"Oh! I almost forgot," you rummaged through your bags; Sukuna grumbled at the lost feeling of your hands in his hair almost immediately. "I got food for us. Since someone decided not to show up."

You placed his hummus wrap — covered in foil — onto his bedside table, and set yours likewise.

"Have you eaten yet, 'Kuna?"

"I haven't had breakfast," he murmured.

"You could've just said a quick 'no'."

"Girls are so bossy."

"Hey—"

Sukuna cut you off with a whine. "Ughh, my throat hurts. And my head is throbbing."

You rubbed your chin with your thumb and index finger. You put the back of your hand against Sukuna's forehead. "You have a fever."

"Really? I couldn't tell."

"Take off your shirt," you demanded.

"In your dreams."

"More like my nightmares," you giggled, before helping Sukuna to remove his shirt.

You stood up to walk to his bathroom; Sukuna was quick to pull you back by the wrist. Even when he's sick, he's still got a strong grip.

"And where do you think you're going?"

You tugged your arm out of his grasp, "Don't."

You managed to enter the bathroom — without any more nagging from Sukuna — and grabbed a towel, soaking it in cold water.

Then, you walked back into his room, and placed it atop his forehead. Sukuna immediately went to remove it, before you swatted his hand away.

"Get this thing off of me. It's freezing," Sukuna scowled.

You had to restrain yourself from putting him in shackles, "This is literally helping you. So, shut up. You talk too much."

"This is literally," he coughed, "my house. Don't tell me what to do, girl."

"Doctor's orders."

"Nuh uh, you're far from a doctor. More like a witch instead," Sukuna snickered.

You rolled your eyes, already used to Sukuna's antics by now.

"Do you have medicine anywhere in the house?" You asked, caressing his cheek and rubbing it with your palm.

"Mmhm." He nuzzled his face impossibly closer into your hand.

You sighed, "C'mon. Work with me here, 'Kuna. Where's the medicine?"

A long break of silence, "'m not gonna tell you."

"Tell me, or else, or else I'll — ," you thought for a moment, "or else I'll tell your grandpa. And you know how he takes of people when they're sick."

Sukuna's eyes immediately shot open. He knew his grandpa's old fashioned ways.

"It's in the cabinet in the kitchen. The one above the fridge."

You struggled to reach, having to stand on your tiptoes, but at last, you brought a bottle filled with red liquid and a measuring cup to Sukuna's bedroom.

When you entered, he immediately started to move away from you. Alas, he only had so much room on his bed.

"I would rather die, than drink that shit." Sukuna pointed at the cup with his finger.

"Then die," you quipped back, shoving the cup — that you filled with medicine — into his hands.

Sukuna glared at you, but you remained unwavering in your demand. When he realized there was no point in trying to argue, he leaned his head back and drank.

"Weirdo," you sneer.

"What's the problem now?" Sukuna placed the now empty cup on his table and fell back onto his bed, covering his eyes with an arm.

"You drank the medicine like it was a shot."

"Doesn't matter."

Sukuna began to cough, and cough, and cough. He sat upright.

You rubbed his back.

Sukuna felt utterly selcouth. He never had someone help him through a sickness. Sure, Grandpa was always there, but he's different. Sukuna's had tutors, coaches, people whose jobs were to help. But it wasn't your job.

"Why?" Why do you help me? Sukuna asked.

You know why. But those words never left your mouth. Instead,

"Shh. Be quiet. Let me take care of you."

At the end of the day, you knew why you were helping Sukuna. And Sukuna knew how you were helping him.

You tucked him in, raised the blanket up to his shoulders, adjusted the towel on his forehead, and kissed his forehead.

"Don't overexert yourself," you walked to the door, "I know you will."

Sukuna wanted to call your name, have you stay by his side, run your soft fingers through his hair for just a little longer, but his throat itched, and he didn't even have the energy to cough or sneeze. So, alas, he shut his eyes, and dreamt instead.

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 9 | stanley pines x f!reader 

Summary: stanley has a restless night in April, and comes to a (not) shocking realization. a continuation of year 5, particularly concerning dreams

warnings (TW): swearing, slight-panic, some suggestive content

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, action, affection

notes: short but purposeful part pls listen to meeeee // side note so sorry everyone me is going thru v big girl problems w jobs and moving so apologies for the shortness but i did almost put just as much time into it as usual (typical im a perfectionist till i die) but ya again thanks for the love, support, the comments, like omg did i ever think id actually be kinda cool online? No i never thought that. All the follows?? The messages?? Like yall are too kind omgggg <333 much love to everyone though!!! Hope you enjoy, and again if you’d like to be tagged just comment :) 

word count: 3.8k

| masterlist | 

April, 1987

He had moved his clothes into her dresser drawers come February. 

Actually she did, while he slept in her clean sheets and tucked into her nest of blankets. He had quickly fallen ill after he turned from blue to red in their bathtub that late January day. Despite this, he did not stop shivering for a solid two days, during which his Doc’ rushed to and from his bedside with new washcloths for his burning foggy head and with soup to flush out the heat of his body. 

Well, it was actually her bedside. 

His Doc’ made quite the Doc’ though. He remembers flashes of being sick as a child, of having his mother creep in through his childhood room’s doorway to brush her long fingers across his forehead. She never crowded, but she always would linger in the hallway, waiting to be called upon, their landline propped in her hand. His wife was quite the opposite though, she rushed in through doorways, pushed into his space, and spoke in much more frantic cadences. She tried to soothe but he could tell bedside manner was a foreign thing to her, and he didn’t blame her for that. It was quite endearing, how worried she was for his wellbeing. 

He was under the fog of a fevor for several days, and bedbound for the rest of the week fighting exhaustion. It was odd to wake without her visage by his side. A book propped in her lap, her fingers twined into the sheets and worrying over the cotton fabric. She routinely cleaned the room also, moving from shadowed corner to shadowed corner, checking for god knows what. He’d wake to her sometimes, pacing the room in the dark. She was not well when he was unwell. Didn’t know how to compartmentalize him disappearing in front of her, worried about his waning sanity and lightheadedness. 

But it went away by the turn of the week, and when he woke again it was February, and his Doc’ had worn away in his absence. He quickly turned the treatment to her, worried about her hunched posture and weak wrists. Her bags were deeper than ever and her clothes wrinkled from her continued pulling at them. A stack of books by her bedside chair and his clothes in her dresser drawers. 

He took it with some unknown grace, taking care of her. Found it natural to shoo her to bed and scold her to lie under her own cotton sheets. Smiling and goofing with her as he tucked her in extra tight. He had less of a habit of lingering though, coming and going with ease, carrying her new books and magazines from the mail. She’d read until her eyes grew tired again, and he’d come by the next hour to find her reading material propped against the bedsheets and her head drooping to her chest. 

Food was harder though, he’d admit he knew a select few things to actually make. The majority of them being breakfast foods, fast and easy. He hadn’t had a stable kitchen to cook in for over a decade before all this. He would peer over her shoulder during dinner at times, helping her chop things and adding spices here and there. But he couldn’t recall anything in the face of his worry, so he fed her breakfast foods for a solid week. Something she laughed at heartily, taking her plate from his flushed embarrassed self. 

She was more herself, more present in the waking world come the second week of February. She had more pep in her step and a wider smile than he remembers. She was more quick to affection and giggling in his presence. More keen to spend nights watching movies in front of the T.V., more eager to arrange herself beside him on the couch. More frequently put her head on his shoulder, more often than not peering up at him. Periodically reached for him now with open palms. 

He had pushed off the thought. The faded memory of the tub felt like a lifetime ago. The piercing humid water, the yellow fog of the bathroom, and her head crested into his chest. The way he trembled when he reached for her, the caress of his fingers against the apple of her cheek. The way she looked then, looked at him like there was a promise of salvation in the warmth of his lips against her cheek. He remembers the depth of the declaration they shared, something no longer unspoken between them. 

Except he believed it to be a fading dream in the turn of February. 

Thought it may be one of his stuttering dreams of having her close, those dreams where he took her in the confidence of her bedroom. Dreams where he folded her body into his because it meant something. Something sickly sweet about the dreams of them across the kitchen table, of the way a gold band glinted on her ring finger when she reached for him. In those dreams, he had memories of washing her, sharing baths and kisses, and car rides with music and laughter. One’s where he leaned over the middle of the long bench and kissed her and didn't think about the swerving of the car or the heat of her gaze. In those dreams it meant something, he thought it meant something, that he was her’s. 

It aligned with many a daydream-turned-nightmare he had had. Nightmares where she left, took what little she could call her own and disappeared in the fleeting of the night. Nightmares of her crumpled body and shaking voice, a violence he didn’t understand. It’d shake him awake and have him stumbling from doorway to doorway. To make sure she was there before anything else. 

But now he didn’t have to grasp doorframes and splintered wood to see her in the dead of the night. Because they had not parted since that January day, that day he swore when he woke in February must be a twisted figment of his own imagination. Only now, awake in the dead of the night in April could he swallow the truth of it all.

Stanley was not a calculating man. He did not think in fragments and pieces, and he was not one to quantify things in small details so much he worried himself into a stupor. That was more her forte, something he’d pull her out of on the regular. He thought in long-terms and wishes and aspirations. He reached for dreams and planned his life in accordance with past grudges. There were no calculations in the assurance that he had said was he said, said she was his. A breadth of possession he only thought attainable in those dreams he searched for. 

It burned him sometimes, to catch her looking. Forsook the thought he ever believed her longing for him to be a distant relic in his subconscious mind. She looked at him now most days, a clear edge in her eyes. The ones he had seen in dreams, a heat he memorized long ago. Something he swore he saw long ago. Something familiar, her eyes reminding him of fleeting dreams turned memory, of kisses in their car over the dash. The same edging heat he remembers. Where he called her his own, the memory that he thought was a tortuous dream for a solid fifteen days. 

The only time he counts, between folded cards on a poker table and days between dreams and her. His aspirations had shifted in a mere 1,735 days. Four years and some change since he had that dream turned memory, of her crawling heat upon his lap. Her teeth sunk into the crook of his shoulder. 

A shoulder she dug into now. Her head nestled into the junction of his arm every night since February. Something unspoken about the way they lived in each other's space now. Something inconsequential and flippant about sharing their warmth. 

At times it was difficult sharing this space. He would usually find relief in their departure from each other some nights, those nights she’d make for her bedroom doorframe alone were a distant memory. She’d drag his frame to the edge of her bed now, her shirt pooled around her bare legs, a pleading look in her eye when she rolled the blankets back and invited him in. A reminder of a dream. 

Partially why he was even awake now in the dead of the Spring night. Her warmth was inviting and it had awoken something eager in him. He would usually find some sort of… physical relief in the deep dark of night when he'd lie alone in his own bed. But his new bed had an extra guest who just happened to be the possession of many of his desires. Normally he would check, crawling to the edge of his bed to peer at her silhouette across the hall, ensuring that she was asleep. It would be a weight off his lower back after he concluded in relieving his frustrations that had built up throughout the day. Usually followed by the all too typical sense of guilt. Because she had been there when he closed his eyes. The waking version of his dream, just asleep across the hall. 

An accumulation of dire frustration pooled now at the bottom of his spine. To be so close to her, so familiar with the curve of her body along his own, but to not possess her in a more intimate way was hard. Frustrating, even. He wanted possession of her on a deeper level, a proof of concept to the edging of his lips along her cheek and the declaration on his tongue. He drept of kissing her now in the waking world also. Of tangling his body closer to her own, taking her in the confidence of her bedroom. Of their bedroom. He wanted to share more spaces with her over dashboards and bathtubs now. 

But he didn’t know how. She had him fumbling in that foolish teenage boy kind of way, despite his climbing age. He’d regret the time spent fussing over the smaller details like she always does. He wasn’t used to working in fragments and fractions of thoughts.

She had already been so overcome with the memory of still water she refused to leave his side. Had spilled her guts in the porcelain of the tub in January. He didn’t know what possessed him now to stutter around the thought of her. It would come to a precipice soon, one day. The feeling would possess him and he’d declare himself something more to her, ask for the lie shared between them to become a reality. Ask her to marry him before ever having uttered what real husbands tell their wives. Big words that would stumble from his mouth, the closest he’s ever been to obsession, having her folded into his body. Her warmth made him gooey and his lips loose and in the dead of the night he thought he would say it to her there. 

That he loved her. 

September, 1987

The summer passed as it usually did. Scattered memories shared between them now of evenings on their porch and nights spent tipsy in front of the T.V.

They danced between each other now. Warm hands met in the dark of the setting sun on the back porch most days. Her head deep within the crook of his shoulder each evening when they’d converge in front of the T.V. Warmth shared between them in the dead of the night, blankets moving off the bed in the heat of the summer. He’d lean into it all now, too. Linger his lips along her forehead and laugh more readily in her presence. Their eyes would meet most days now, an amusement shared between them both in their hesitancy to break any tension. 

She was not keen to leave his presence in the slightest these days, either. She had trouble in doorways and dark hallways. Didn’t like turning over her shoulder line to look for him. Followed him into rooms and up the stairs now. She hadn’t let him disappear from her site since February, since she became so ill with her worry all she could do was skim books and wait for him to return in between consciousness.  

He did not shake her from this fear of hers. He walked away with some of his own. Remembering the cool seeping into his lungs, the choking of water in his throat. Remembering the height at which he emerged from the dark ice. The height he had fallen from the beasts’ maw had frightened him beyond reason, almost more than the dark of the water. The water was familiar to him at least, but the height at which his head cracked against the ice had him waking from falling dreams at times. He was sure if she hadn’t surged forward that day to embed the ax into the beast's neck he would have fallen from an even higher height. That he may have been dead. 

So he understood, her need for his visage to be within eyesight. Understood waking dreams and following him through doorways now. But dreams were dreams and they couldn't live in technicalities. She loved technicalities though, she thought in fragments and of far-off realities that would never be. She was imaginative in the worst way, in the worrying way. 

Which was why she looked oh so small in the passenger seat today, the looming elementary school sitting right behind her. School was starting, and she was going to be away all day. 

They had not separated in quite some time, even before the whole January turned February turned dream turned reality. They separated between walls and hallways, but usually, not even doors got between them. Doors felt like a trap to him even to this day, something she understood inherently. 

“Ya gotta go Doc’.” He hummed, reaching for her hand now. Something he didn’t hesitate to do, his palm faced up. 

She breathes, nodding. Her foot tapping away at the car floor, her bulging bag held to her front. She allowed him to reach for her, meeting him in the middle of the long bench. Her fingers cresting over and playing with his own. “I know, I know, I know.” 

She keeps nodding, her hand reaching for her chest again. Rubbing along her heart in a self-soothing way. She had been doing that all morning, since breakfast. 

He had pushed off opening the shack, wanting to drop her off that morning for her first day. She had been so eager when she found the application to be a teacher’s assistant tucked into the back of the newspaper’s classifieds late last year. She was set to help out in a crowded first-grade classroom that day. Something she had been so eager to do. Before she remembered the balm to her anxieties would be far from her reach. 

It had been hard, the thought of leaving him all day. She had laughed when she applied, thinking about how Stanley would pout at her across the kitchen table every morning during the school year. How he’d wait for her to come home, dreamed of him needing her. But in a weird twist of fate, it would be her, her watching the clock in the coming hours. Waiting for his figure to crest back over the horizon line, to greet her in the warmth of the car and joke with her all the way home. 

God, she would miss him. She hadn’t been parted from him since she burst through the shack’s front door. Since she wandered in through the doorway like a mad woman, taken by his image even then. 

It was even harder now, the thought of him disappearing in murky black water was the centerpiece of dark thoughts these days. The edge of all her anxieties since January. She didn’t want to part from him, because what if something happened to him in her absence? What if he went somewhere she could not follow?  

She knew the fear was misplaced. Knew Stanely would not disappear from her forever. He would go about his day much the same way he had all summer. He’d get dressed, put on his father’s hat, and give tours and swindle eager mothers all day. The tourists had flooded in out of town early this season, eager for the northern fall colors that would soon seep into the treeline around their home. 

Despite knowing this, her heart would not stop. Anxious about having him drive so far from her. Did he know? Know she needed his soothing presence? Know that the root of all her anxieties surrounded him most days now? 

He did of course, he read her mind in a greater capacity than ever in the last couple of years. Knew her tells from the change of her face and the grip of her hand. Knew her playing with his fingers was a distraction and her scrunched brow spoke of the restless night she had beside him. 

“Hey, look at me.” He takes her chin now, moving her head from the dash to him. His dark eyes were warm in the very early morning light. Kids would be here soon, flooding into the hallways, and she was supposed to be there to greet them. He knew she wanted this, so eager at the thought of teaching and helping. She had been planning activities and how to best introduce herself to six-year-olds for weeks now. She wanted this, but it came at the cost of splitting, splintering their shared connection for a day. 

“You can do this honey. I know you can.” He looks so sure at her, his head tilted and a smile creeping onto his face. “Do you know why I know that?” 

She hums. “Why?” 

“Because you’re smart.” He nods, continuing, despite her scoff. “And you’re good, and you’re patient, and you’re kind, and you’re warm.” 

She laughs. “Warm?” 

“Ya, warm. You got that face on ya’, kids will approach you at random I know it. Got that glow about you. You’re pretty like that.” His hand reaching now to brush some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

She heats up beside him, back suddenly straight. “Pretty?” 

“You heard me.” He laughs too, like he’s known it forever, thought it forever. Like he was recounting the morning newspaper comics to her. Like it amused him that she didn’t know. That he thought she was pretty. 

She breathes. That might just get her through the day. Maybe through the month. That and the hot streak along her cheek to her ear. His hand warm as he pulls her across the middle of the long bench. He bends her into him, practiced from a dream turned reality from a time before. Drags his lips along the apple of her cheek, his scruff rubs against her. His lips warm along her, a heated path from her cheek to her ear again as he whispers between them. 

“Pretty, angel.” 

It catches her breath now when he calls her that. He does it at the most opportune times now. “Honey” made her heart beat fast and her face flush, but “angel” made heat gather below her stomach. Resurfaced a dream from long ago of his weight above her and his lips so close to her jugular it makes her gasp at the memory of it. He only says it, angel, when they are close now. When she is tucked into his shoulder on the couch or in the early birdsong of morning, their arms and chests tangled together. 

It always makes her surge, makes her more alert. Made her think of far-off dreams of wedding bands and kids she swore were her own. That’s what she wanted to remember from those nightmares, at least. What she reached for in her current reality. She wasn’t used to working in dreams and long-gone wistful thinking though. But she’d try, try to be braver in the waking world. 

So she nods, breaking from his warmth. A beginning bell broke her from the trance of his eyes and the warmth of his big warm hands. He was still in his jeans and a rumpled t-shirt, hair a mess on the crown of his head. She hoped he’d stay the same when he returned. That he’d look just like this to her. 

She sighs, reaching for her bag, shuffling papers deep into the overflowing open zipper at the top. She turns back to him, reaching for his hand now, palm warm against him as she brings his hand to her lips unthinking. Holding his hand close to her face, cupping it, cradling her face in its warmth. 

“Goodbye, Mr. Pines.” 

He laughs, but she doesn’t miss the rise of redness to the tips of his large ears.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Pines.” 

She reaches for her door, opening it herself for the first time since meeting him. He yells, “Wait!” Rushing from his seat and the idling parked car to run along the front of the car, reaching and opening her door for her. A funny flourish to his hand, and a fake bow as she folds and steps out of the car. 

He closes the door promptly, outstretching his arms to actually encase her, to actually say goodbye to her now. Her hands along the expanse of his back, fingers crooked into the collar of his shirt. He sighs again, letting go of the warmth between them. His head still tucked forward, his lips greeting the curve of her hairline. Whispering along her head, “Goodbye for now.” 

She sighs again, shoulders slumped and bag hefty along her back. “Goodbye for now.” 

It’s the hardest thing, to turn from him. But the rush of children now seeping into the school reminds her she’s at least five minutes late for her very first day. For her very first actual job since working alongside Stanford. It makes the doubt turn in her veins, only reassured by the shadow of him behind her. 

And when she turns there, searching over her shoulder line he’s still there, leaning against the car, like he had been waiting for her to turn again.  Firm and whole and handsome and hers entirely. Reminds her of a faint dream when he waves again, a glint she swore was on his finger. A golden band she remembers and a promise he swore of never leaving her again, not like that.

She thinks to say it then, entirely loud and brief between their distances. Thinks of phrases whispered close to her ears and folded into her arms. A familiarity in the sentiment, but entirely foreign on her tongue. Something unspoken between syllables she cannot voice now, standing at the entrance to the small school. Taken by his image, has words almost stumbling out of her mouth like a mad woman. 

She thinks to tell him then and there, that she loves him. 

[taesanluv3r]

almost twenty

kim woonhak x reader

non-idol woonhak and reader anxiously holding onto their disappearing youth. kind of emotional, esp if youre aged 17-19, might make u cry (i did while writing it) idk. this fic is dedicated to everyone who's worrying so much abt the future (me) it'll get better i promise (telling myself this). lowercase intended. pls ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. enjoyy

wc: 2,365

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"so...have you heard back from any of the colleges yet?"

her mother's simple question alone was enough to ruin yn ln's whole afternoon. normally, it wouldn't piss her off that much at all, but the fact that she's heard the exact same words come out from the woman's mouth about a billion times this week alone was just the thing to fully pull on her veins. "i told you a million times already, mom!" she shouted, abruptly- and angrily- standing up from her seat at the dining table. "the schools will get back to me in two weeks. i just applied like two days ago! god..."

"...do you ever listen?"

the answer is no. what kind of parents were understanding enough to listen to their teenage daughter? in fact, what kind of adult would ever understand the way their kids, regardless of age, felt? maybe out there somewhere there was a family that were healthy enough to get each other that way. maybe out there somewhere an adult was caring enough to relate a little.

"tsk...yeah right...fat chance"

yn groans as she slumps belly first onto her bed. she turns over to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. her eyes almost water as they scan her surroundings. the glow-in-the-dark stars that decorated her walls, the baby-pink chair she had out-grown years ago, and the collection of stuffed animals that snuggled comfortably in the very corner of her bed-room; memories of the trajectory of her own life- well, the life she had up until right now, up until this awkward stage between teenage youth and adulthood.

she sighs as she gets up again, her fingers tracing against the gold medals that sat atop the floral wallpaper. she giggles, looking through every old photo inside each frame placed on her shelf. one of little yn holding up three gold medals, little yn with a big toothy grin only half the size of the cotton candy in her tiny hands, a slightly older yn when she had graduated elementary school, and one last image of a smiley middle-school yn, hands happily intertwined with her closest friend, kim woonhak.

the girl stops to stare at all her belongings a little longer. in just two more weeks she'd be hearing back from at least one of the colleges she had applied to. in just two weeks all of these things that surrounded her would be stuffed into a card-board box, somewhere far away from her sight. a sick feeling forms in the pit of her stomach. it's bittersweet. sure, she'd finally be free from the so-called shackles of her parents' constant nagging, finally having a life of her own...but at the same time, yn just couldn't help all the doubts that constantly clouded up her mind, those thoughts that made the sunny days look gloomy through her eyes.

she swears she might just start crying. not that it's anything new, the stress that comes forth from being on the verge of twenty always seemed to push a lever in the tear-making department in her eyes. she's interrupted this time though, by the unnecessarily loud ping of her phone. 'who could possibly be texting me now...'

'woon-not so-agi'

the contact name alone allows a little laugh to escape the girl's lips as she swipes her fingers against the screen to open his message.

where u at?? you aren't flaking on me are u????

his texts confuse her for just a moment, she had no clue what he was talking about.

hellooooo? don't tell me u forgot? we're supposed to meet at the tree remember?? hurry uppppppppp im not waiting long >:(

"shit is it 7pm already?!" without any more fuss, yn rushes to throw on her sweater. she doesn't bother to bid goodbye to her parents before she runs out the door- she's still upset at them, of course. the girl hastily climbs onto her bicycle, her legs pedaling the fastest they ever had. in almost no time, she arrives at the boy's backyard.

"what took you so long?" a male voice calls out from the top of the tree, woonhak's head peaking out from the wooden structure that sat between the branches. yn points a finger up at the air, signaling for him to wait for a second as she catches her breath. she could hear him laugh, followed by the rustling of leaves as a gust of wind flew by. "hurry and get up here" he said impatiently, prompting her to roll her eyes as she began to climb up the wooden ladder.

"finally" the boy said, smiling stupidly as the girl took a seat beside him on the tree-house-like space. it was a flat piece of wood, decorated with acrylic paints and a couple old throw pillows that his dad had installed for them on the tall tree in their backyard. they were about six years old then, just two little kids begging their parents every single day for a 'super ultimate tree-house' to pose as their 'super-spy head-quarters' on their silly playdates, having no clue that their favourite playing spot would hold the same purpose years later in their teens.

"what's up with you?" the boy's voice shakes yn out of the trance she didn't know she was in. "huh?" he laughs again, "you always look like you're about to jump off this tree" woonhak teases, and usually she'd tease back. usually, she'd say something too witty for him to understand, dying of laughter by herself while he sat there confused. that wasn't the case today though, instead, she stayed quiet, only the slightest smile on her lips.

in an instant, his face softened. "hey..." he began, shifting the weight away from his hands to lightly tap at her shoulders. his grip tightened, adding a bit of force to turn her around so they were face to face. "there really is something wrong, isn't there?" yn couldn't bring herself to answer properly, only a whimper of sorts coming out from her mouth- the quietest of noise before that lever inside of her eyes came loose.

"yn...what's wrong?" woonhak asked again, catching her body in his arms when she fell towards him, incasing her in his warmth. "i..." she manages to muster out, her voice muffled from the fabric of his baby-blue sweater. "...i don't know...i just..." once more, the words in her head failed to solidify, all her thoughts coming out as silent cries. he doesn't force her to speak anymore, just holding her tightly, rocking back and forth as if he were comforting a teen-sized baby.

it takes about half an hour for yn to gather herself and her thoughts up again. she had removed herself of woonhak's embrace, sitting straight up beside him. the shadow of their swinging feet moved with the grass below them, the afternoon sky creating a blue-ish tint and painting the scene like a movie. just the right atmosphere for the boy to open his ears up, all for her voice to enter right in.

"i just don't get it. i don't get why they keep pressuring me with all these questions! when are you going to college? you should start packing, have you found a dorm yet? have you found a job yet? when will you get your license? i just...it's just too much- it's like..." she momentarily stops her speech-like dialogue to think of the right adjectives. "like it's all going so fast? like they're rushing you?" woonhak completes the sentences for her, his eyebrows furrowing when she nods in agreement.

"exactly" yn says, bringing one leg up to rest her chin on her knee. "it's just so stressful...i guess i just can't believe it's all happening- i mean..." she picks up her speaking space, perhaps to stop herself from letting the tears take over again. "in two weeks we'll hear from those colleges...then we'll have to move and then start a whole new life and what if we don't end up in the same place? what if we lose contact? what if everything i've lived the past years of my life for..." her voice cracks and she pauses for a moment to look at the boy beside her.

"...what if it doesn't work out? what if it just all goes to waste?"

the water that had begun to well up in her eyes were a clear image in front of him now, only prompting him to start to tear up himself. their gazes lingered on each other for a moment, the vulnerability of it all crashing against the two teenagers like it had fallen straight from the sky.

"i get it" woonhak says, trying his best to stop himself from bawling like a baby- even if it meant breaking eye-contact with the girl and staring all too seriously at the leaves above him. "ah, being our age is so hard!" he yells this time, falling backwards to lay down on the wooden surface. his hands slapped over his face, the mere thought of the pair's coming adulthood far too frustrating for him. his slight temper-tantrum made her smile for the first time that afternoon- i mean, fully smile.

something about the boy's childish nature comforted her. like despite all these worries and all the stress about their coming twenties, whenever they were together they still had that little bit of youth to grab onto.

"hey...you're smiling again" she nods at his observation, moving to lay down on her back right next to him. yn lets out a sigh, watching as a flock of birds migrated over the skies above them. "yn?" woonhak calls out and the girl hums in response, turning her head over to face him. the boy's eyes are shiny and bright, despite the fact that the sun was long gone. she's confused when he moves to sit up again, but never breaking eye-contact.

"can you promise me something?"

she sits up with him now, nodding along with his words. "promise what?" her words are quick, like she didn't have any more time left in the world. "that when we're away in college, even if we get too busy with whatever twenty year olds do, even if we barely have any time on our hands anymore..." his voice starts to shake, eyes begin to water all over again. "promise me we'll never lose contact. promise me we'll still talk every chance we get? please?" the weakness displayed on his face, a kind of look she had never ever seen on the boy before this very moment. he fully expected her to cry as well, to breakdown into tears as they hugged for the rest of the night. she didn't though, instead the girl broke into a small fit of laughter.

"what...why are you laughing?!" a massive frown decorated his complexion, tears streaming down both sides of his face. "oh, woonhak..." yn says, a smile on her lips as her hands moved up to cup his cheeks, beginning to wipe away his tears. "you're so stupid..." the boy furrows his eyebrows, "you can't seriously be bullying me in the middle of this right now-" he's cut off when her pointer finger presses against his mouth. "no, you idiot. i'm just saying you're so stupid if you think i'd ever be able to survive my twenties without texting and calling you every chance i get!"

his mouth opens to form an 'O' shape. she lets out a giggle and his own one follows. yn lets out a deep breath, "i'd be way too lonely without you, woonhak" the boy smiles, "yeah, you've got like no other friends anyways- ow!" he exclaims, rubbing the spot on his shoulder she had slapped. "meanie" her baby-like language only makes him roll his eyes, "how are you almost twenty and still calling people meanie?" yn pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. "i only call you that...and only cause its the truth!" woonhak laughs once more before suddenly pulling her into his chest, she squeals at the sudden force sending them to lay down flat on the tree-house structure again.

they stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms under the shade of their comfort place. "i wish we could stay almost-twenty forever..." yn says through a sigh. woonhak nods, a hand stroking through her hair. "yeah...i wish time froze at age nineteen or something...like at nineteen point nine nine" her eyebrows knit together, "nineteen point nine nine?" he nods again, "yeah, like the ultimate teenager" the girl laughs, hiding her face against his side.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" - "but where would you be without me, yn?" she agrees with him, "you're right...life would be so terrible without you- even if you're the dumbest person i know..." he rolls his eyes. "hey, yn?" - "yeah?"

"you know...later if we're away from each other, please call me. call me all the time. call me if you're bored, call me if you're happy, call me when you're sad, when you're stressed, and please..." the boy trails off, sitting up again and grabbing the girl's hands to pull her up with him. he stared deeply into her eyes, and she did the same as she bit on her bottom lip.

"please call me if you're lonely...promise?"

she nods quickly, "of course. i promise" the pair melt into each other as they hugged once more, the blue sky had darkened and the bright moon watched over them from the cracks between the branches of the tree. "thank you..." kim woonhak says, separating from her grasp. "for what?" yn ln wonders, tilting her head off to the side in confusion.

"for spending the rest of our youth with me"

just like that, yn's worries and all her anxiety flew out the window. in a time like this one, when it feels like their teenage years are disappearing far too quickly, when no one around them seemed to understand, when they've become all too sensitive to the concept of change...at least they've got each other to seek comfort. an everlasting youth whenever it was just the two of them. as though time had frozen and they were stuck in the in-between...

at 19.99.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

aaa i cried while writing and proofreading this TT 19.99 coming out the same time ive been the most stressed abt future-related stuff, the album is so amazing and relatable! its very precious to me, dont forget to stream!! ily bonedo, ily woonhak, ily readers! here's to growing up together <3 tysm for reading. love, kona.

[jji-lee]

before your message had even sent haechan was already standing awkwardly at your front door, soup in one hand and a small bag of medicine in the other. he knocked softly waiting for a response, oh right you had told him where the key was, why did he suddenly feel so nervous? he looked around until he spotted a large pot of blue hydrangeas, a little golden key sticking out of the soil (you should really hide that better).

as he entered your house he was greeted by a sweet scent, one that he assumed was yours. he stood at the entrance for a while looking around your little living space, warm lighting filling the room, textbooks stacked on every surface, lost pens hiding in every dark corner, this space felt so different than what he was used to, but somehow he found comfort in the way that all of these things resembled you, he was actually in YOUR house. he pushed the thoughts of jaemin being able to enjoy this before him out of his head before deciding that he was going to give you the soup personally, he wanted to at least catch a glimpse of you before leaving, just to make sure you weren’t dead of course.

it didn’t take long for him to find you, the soft sound of your bedroom tv guiding him. he knocked on your door before peeking in. you were curled up in bed, curtains shut, only the light from the tv shining on you. you looked up from your spot on the bed sticking a hand out from under your thick blanket to greet him,

“hey hyuck, sorry mark sent you to do this”

did you just call him hyuck? haechan thinks it’s the sweet smell in the air that’s getting to his head but all he can mutter out is a soft,

“uh yeah no problem”

you stared at him for a moment and gestured for him to leave the soup on the bedside table. after he put it down he just stood there, silently swaying back and forth. it was silent for a moment neither of you understanding why the other wasn’t speaking. well… fuck it… mark did say he had a good feeling about this, and when is mark ever wrong?

“move over”

he leaned his knee on your bed using his hands to gesture for you to lay on the other side,

“what are you doing on my bed”

he blushed slightly, embarrassment taking over his body,

“just, ugh, move over, i got you sick and you need heat, im a person who can provide heat so just move over”

what the hell was he even saying? he sat down awkwardly on your bed as you scooted over

“just, just, come here”

he pulled you gently so you’d lay your head on his lap,

“i’ll just stay until you fall asleep okay, don’t make this a big deal i swear i’m not weird, if you let jaemin in i think you’ll be fine with me”

you chuckled softly wanting to make a smart remark but your sick body stopped you, eyes fluttering shut at the new feeling of warmth enveloping you. haechan softly patted your head as he heard you let out a soft sigh. god he hopes you didn’t let jaemin do all this.

blooming hearts — 11. not penetrative sleeping

previous — masterlist — next

notes : i had to do it. i had to satisfy my delusions.

taglist : @nanaxwi , @swee7dream , @mwahaechz , @jenocity23 , @nctrawberries , @seunghancore , @minkyuncutie , @taeeflwrr , @starwonb1n , @mystverse , @jising-jisang-jisung , @beommii , @sunghoonsgfreal

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Texts from the Ex

Pairings: Weems x Reader

Word count: 1.1K

Summary: Reader is a fairly new teacher, and you have a panic attack at school luckily not in class.

TW: implied past abuse, stalking, panic attack

A/n Hi guys sorry I disappeared for a hot minute there I just finished the last of my exams and have been very very busy. I’ll be back to posting as per normal (hopefully) now. Thank you all for your support with my exams and to the people who wished me luck with them your all very sweet. Again, sorry about the random ghosting haha.

Also, this fic is Larissa x reader. I know I said this was a platonic fic of oneshots but it was requested (I won't be doing any more romantic pairing for weems or Thornhill in the foreseeable future), this is just a one off so… live with it. (Dw as per usual its SFW)

Your phone screen flashed again as you did your best to hide it under the table and out of sight. The panic swelled in your chest as you pushed the tray of food away.

It had started that morning in your first class. You had been teaching about the renaissance when your phone buzzed in your pocket. As per usual you ignored it, you had a class to teach. The buzzing happened again ten minutes later while the kids were doing some still life sketches. This time you pulled it out, feeling the blood freeze tight in your veins.

How did she get this number. Your ex-girlfriend had managed to track you down, most likely due to your response to the ad for this position a few months back. You had responded with your number like an idiot and now she was onto you again.

She was awful, she ignored you and she had always possessed a special talent to make you feel unwanted and small.

You quickly shoved the phone back into your pocket and drew some deep breathes trying to quell the rising feeling of panic. You had managed to stave it off until the class left. It was only then you had let yourself collapse onto the floor and sob. She was trying to get back into your life to ruin it again.

The messages hadn’t stopped all day. Each one had made you feel closer and closer to the impending panic attack and now you were sat here with Ms Thornhill trying to hold a conversation. However, she was doing about 90% of the talking while you sat there nodding. You were close with the botanist. After all she was close with your girlfriend who happened to be the principle. None other than Larissa Weems herself.

Realising you had zoned out you tried to tune back into what was being said around you. Your phone buzzed under the table again and you began to feel sick. What if Marilyn saw? What if Larissa found out? What if your Ex found you?

Your chest began to feel tight. Constricting slowly and making it harder to take a deep breath. Your head was pounding and your stomach roiling. Your hands were shaking and clasped tight under the desk. Your body was overwhelmed with fear, and it was getting harder to hear Marilyn. It sounded distorted, as if it was under a layer of thick liquid like juice or honey. Things were moving weirdly as well, almost slowly but also too fast.

You thanked God that you had agreed to have lunch with Marilyn in the conservatory away from students. They didn’t need to see the new art teacher having a breakdown over some silly text messages.

“Y/n?” Marilyn asked as she laid a hand on your shoulder. “Honey, are you ok?” She said softly. You recoiled from the touch, and she quickly withdrew her hands into a surrender. “Ok. Ok. Its ok. Im not going to touch you sweetheart. What do you need?” She said and you shook your head, taking shaky breathes which weren’t helping ease the nausea. You curled yourself into a tight ball.

“L-leave me al-lone pl-lease.” You begged. You couldn’t see past the haze of tears and your head hurt so bad.

Marilyn stood back for a second, seeing she was getting nowhere. Suddenly she had an idea and whipped out her own phone.

“Honey? Do you want me to call larissa?” She asked softly. You hesitated and then gave a small nod. “Good. Good. Ok? Take some deep breathes. You're doing great Y/n.” She encouraged and began to dial your girlfriend.

The whole time she was on the phone she studied you closely to make sure you were still breathing and not at risk of passing out. After a few seconds she nodded and said something you didn’t hear before hanging up.

“She’ll be here in a second. Come on Y/n. You can do it. You're doing such a good job sweetheart. That’s it.” She gushed and you let out a shaky sob as you saw a pair of heels enter your vision.

Looking up at her with a tear-stained face Larissa’s heart broke for you. She quickly sat on the floor beside you, uncaring about her expensive suit and pulled you into her arms. She pulled you into her chest and tucked your head under her chin, her arms wrapped around your back. One of your legs either-side of her as you straddled her waist. She rocked the two of you side to side as she brushed her hands through your hair.

She exaggerated her breathing as you listened to her heartbeat and slowed your own. After a bit of just sitting there you took a deep breath of her perfume and released a shaky sigh.

“Hello darling.” She said cooly and with a tender tone.

“Hi.” You said almost shyly. She chuckled.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” She pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and rested her cheek thereafter. “Your safe baby. Your safe. Ok. Im here.” She said still rocking the two of you. After another brief silence she shifted slightly, and you let out a whine.

“Hush. I’m not going anywhere sweets.” She said and you let one last tear fall onto her blazer before playing with her broach and starting to speak.

“She texted again.”

“Who texted?”

“My ex.” You said and you felt her stiffen. You had told Larissa of your time with your Ex and she more than disapproved of her.

“How many times sweetheart.” She said softly.

“Seven.” Larissa sucked in a breath.

“Im buying you a new phone.” She said and you gave a half snort half laugh which made her heart warm.

There was another short pause before you let out a content sigh. “I love you Issa.” You said and closed your eyes and nuzzled into her neck, you were emotionally and physically drained and in desperate need of a nap. Right here would do, you decided as you began to drift off.

“I love you too my darling girl.” She said and kissed your cheek, smiling at the small snores you were making into her neck. She wondered what the students were going to think when she carried you through the hall on her hip like a toddler, fast asleep. Maybe a little bit of a distraction from the students would be good for you she decided.

[fallingdownhell]

i love your writing so much i can't resist from requesting -

im an AS student and man these exams are not easy I've been pulling all nighters and its obviously effecting on me a lot and i don't have a thoma in my life T^T

can i request thoma x reader (modern AU) where she is pulling all nighters, skipping meals, etc while thoma is away on a buisness trip or something (with the Kamisato siblings) and when he gets back to home he sees her almost passed out with a fever and he takes care of her and helps her get back on her feet again ^^

feel free to ignore this <3

have a nice day/night and take care :D

Thanks, I'm glad to hear that<3

Ugh yeah, studying and exams are hard, but please do take care of yourself! That's still the most important thing to do.

But honestly, you're so right. Everyone should have a Thoma in their life. So, allow me to prepare something. Hope that it helps to relax you a bit as well<3

Pairing: Thoma x reader

Content: gender neutral reader; Modern AU; burnout; stress; exams suck; comfort; being taken care of when sick

Word count: 1,8k words

Enjoy the ride!

Studying was hard.

In fact, it was one of the worst things on this planet to ever exist. Why do people have to go through this for multiple years in their life?

It was already hard enough to stay focused and not get distracted by literally anything else. Even the most minute thing could normally easily steal your attention away.

Yet right now, you had to endure. A hard week was coming your way, two very important exams were approaching, with a third one being scheduled the week after.

You have been studying non stop for a few days now, but somehow, nothing seemed to stay in your head, every word you read seemed to be thrown out your head again at the next second.

So, instead of taking a break and just giving yourself even a few minutes of rest, you just studied even harder. Days became longer and longer and before you knew it, you were studying well into the night, but you couldn't help it.

Those exams were very important, it could possibly ruin your entire future if you were to fail even one of them. At least, that's what you're telling yourself.

To your (mis)fortune - however you wanna look at it now - your boyfriend Thoma, who usually would be pestering you by now to finally take a break, wasn't around for a few weeks, since he went on a trip with a few of his friends.

At first, he wanted to bail out of it, so he could stay with you and support you through these tough weeks. But you insisted that he went on the trip, said it would be good for him to get out and spend some quality time with his friends.

In the end, he reluctantly agreed to it, but he still made sure to text you every day, reminding you to take care of yourself and to not overwork yourself.

Each time you got a text like that from him, you felt guilt well up inside you, from how you so easily ignored his worries about you and your health. Yet, every time again, you pushed those feelings down again, telling you that you had no time for them right now.

...

You were currently deep into yet another study session again, your head already pounding from the constant stress and influx of information, when your phone gave off a text notification next to you.

The screen lit up once you looked at it, showing you a new message from Thoma and also told you that it was already almost midnight again.

'You still up?', was the message displayed on your screen. You hesitated on wether or not you should respond to him, knowing that he would most likely scold you for staying up so late again. But in the end, you decided on just answering him.

'Yeah, I am. What's up?', you replied back to him.

You waited a few seconds for his answer, but instead of a new message came the notification of an incoming video call. Confused but also pleasantly surprised, you accepted the call and were soon greeted with the handsome face of your boyfriend Thoma, which you haven't seen in quite some time. God, how did you only now realise how much you missed him?

"Hey", he said, his voice sounding a bit off thanks to the quality of the phone, but that's okay. At least you got to hear his voice again.

"Hey", you answered back with a soft smile, taking in his surroundings. He was laying on his stomach, holding his phone in front of him with one hand, while the other rested under his chin on a pillow. In the background, you could hear soft snoring.

"Is that Ayato snoring in the background?", you laughed, but Thoma seemed to be used to it at this point.

"Yeah. I'm actually not surprised you hear that, but trust me, it's so much louder when your in the same room as him. He sleeps like a stone and his snoring has kept me up so many times. Like today."

You nodded in understanding. While Thoma may not snore, your previous partner sure did, and it robbed you of your sleep more times than you could count.

"How are you, (name)? Taking enough breaks?", he asked, even managing to give you a pointed look through the camera of the phone. You briefly debated on just telling him yes so he would feel better, but you couldn't bring yourself to lie to Thoma. Not when he was so earnestly concerned about you.

"More or less..", you opted to respond, thinking it would not sound too bad. Yet, knowing you for this long, Thoma knew exactly what that meant.

"(Name)...", he sighed, pinching his nose with his free hands. But before he could go on a full blown rant, you tried changing the subject.

"Let's not talk about that, okay. I'll manage and I don't want to ruin the good mood of your trip. I hope you're having fun by the way."

Thoma looked at you for a few seconds, deciding on wether or not to just go with it. "I know what you're trying to do here. Just... promise me you won't take it too far, okay. Don't neglect yourself, take breaks and remember to eat something."

"Thoma.. I can't really promise you, but I'll try, okay?"

He sighed again, but agreed to that with a reluctant "Alright.", since he knew that this would probably be the best he would get out of you. He really hated how you had this habit to just not take care of yourself when you were stressed, which is why he didn't want to go on this trip in the first place.

But, you were right after all. He really needed this trip to get out for a bit and breath some fresh air, and he had a lot of fun with both Ayato and Ayaka. You were initially invited to join them as well, but sadly had to decline because it would overlap with your exams.

The two of you talked for quite a bit about all kinds of things. The stuff the three of them had been up to during their trip, where they went to (since it was a road trip) and stuff like that. Hearing about it, you were really sad you couldn't join them, but that's just how things are now.

Before ending the call, Thoma informed you that they probably would be back by the end of next week, which was also when you would finally be done with all your exams. Then, you could finally rest again and enjoy some much needed quality time with your boyfriend again.

"Good night, (name). I love you."

"I love you too, Thoma. Good night."

And after that, your screen went black again, and you were suddenly all alone again in your quiet room, with nothing to occupy your mind but the constant need to study and get better.

So, with a deep sigh, you got back to work.

...

It was finally done. The last test has been dealt with, it was over.

You arrived at your apartment, utterly exhausted. You had been ignoring the warning signs of your body for far too long, and yet you still insisted of pushing your own limits.

You started to develop a constant headache a few days ago, with the fever joining in two days ago. Yet you still pushed through, telling yourself that you were fine, that you were able to do this.

And you did do it, but now that you were falling onto your couch, finally able to relax for the first time in two weeks, you realized what you had done to yourself.

You had no strength left in you, no will to do anything at all. You were utterly exhausted and done, not being able to do anything but welcome the darkness that overcame you as you simply passed out on the spot.

...

"(Name)? I'm home!", Thoma yelled as he entered your apartment, using the spare key that you gave him. When no reply came back to him, worry began to rise even more. He had been texting you for the last three hours, telling you that he got back safely. But when you still didn't reply, his concern got the best of him, and he made his way over to your apartment.

"(Name)?", he tried again, while moving through the living space. Once he passed the living room, he saw you, laying on the couch, passed out. At first, thinking nothing of it, he smiled a little and made his way over to your side, crouching down next to you.

But when he saw the pained expression on your face and how sweaty you were, he instantly knew something was up. Without thinking, he gently picked you up into his arms to carry you to your bedroom, before he went to check on your temperature.

As he suspected, you had a fever.

"Damn it, (name).", he sighed. Seemed like he had to take care of you until you wake up again.

...

When you woke up again, you had no idea what time it was, but judging by the the lack of bright light coming form outside, it had to be either evening or night already.

Your head was still spinning a bit and when you went to touch your forehead, you noticed something cold and wet.

That's also when you realized that you weren't in the living room anymore, but actually your bedroom.

Still confused and trying to piece the missing information together, the door to your room swung open, revealing the form of your boyfriend Thoma to you.

"Thoma! You're back!", you exclaimed, trying to get out of the bed, but were quickly pushed back down again.

"Don't even think about getting up. Your fever is still way too high for you to be jumping around like that.", he scolded, which caused you to follow his instruction. Only now did you also notice that you were wearing your pyjama and not the things you collapsed in on the couch. He really took care of everything for you...

"I'm sorry..", you quietly mumbled, and you meant it. You felt bad and guilty for causing him to worry so much about you. Even worse that he had every right to do so, since you did work yourself sick.

Thoma sighed, sitting down on the bed, slowly extending a hand to stroke your hair a bit.

"Don't scare me like that again. You were passed out for hours. All I want is for you to be okay. I can only achieve that if you also start taking care of yourself."

"Okay.. I promise I'll take better care."

And he believed you. It was the only thing he could do, besides nursing you back to health right now. And you appreciated and loved him even more for putting up with you and still caring for you, despite all.

[maks-punchout-hyperfixtion]

*cracks knuckles* ay folks you get a tumbler exclusive for awhile because I'm to lazy to actually go onto ao3

Reminder time!! This is my a.u and is not a direct depiction of spo/wii aran Ryan's personality

Tw's: slightly detailed injuries, reference to Macbeth, and self harm by hot water

Thanks to: @atypical-artisan for helping with errors and formatting

“Aran! C’mon we're going to be late!”

Absolutely no response came from the guy. Having Andrew sigh as if it was a daily occurrence now.

“Give the kid a break this is the longest he’s been separated from Ardin since..” Roree took her brush and tapped it seven times before snapping. “Since that time the school separated them by accident!”

“Roree, that's not something to be excited about.” Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don't got time for this! I have a match in an hour!”

“Andy it's not until 3.”

“If you're not early you're-”

“late blah blah blah you know i think Deedee knows a german fella you would love.”

“If I wasn't pissed already I would smack you.”

“Oh I would love to see you try!”

Andrew growled and Started to head upstairs, muttering about the upcoming fight. And complaining about Lucky being a whole sea away for another disaster, as he turned and opened the door.

“Aran!- I said- down Cu- I said come on!” Andrew pushed the dog down before giving it a small pat. He looked directly at the bed that had Aran in it. “I know you ain't sick lad, otherwise we would have been to the doctors already… again…”

“i rather be there then see another one of ye go against the bi-”

“Watch your tone.”

Andrew attempted to step over the random clothing and items on the floor, the kid loved to do big projects but god forbid he cleans his room, as he then took Aran’s blanket and pulled them off.

“Hey!”

“You’re goin’. I'm not leaving you: a teenager who witnessed his twin get sent to the hospital because of a damn cheater, alone in a house with more than enough to make us wo-OW!”

Aran slid a pair of horseshoes onto Andrew's foot, and despite seeing it coming it still hurt. Andrew shook his foot before glaring at Aran and picking up the horseshoes.

“You're going, rather you're being willing or not. And I can hold up me own with you so I suggest-”

“Yeah I'm feckin’ going lieutenant bollox.”

That got a smack from Andrew as Aran got up. Who just rolled his eyes and grabbed a sleeveless hoodie from the ground. Andrew rolled his eyes before sighing.

“Ye know we care about ya right?”

“Mhm.”

“..look Aran I promise that im goin’ to remind her not to fuck around with us.”

“And how will you do that?”

Aran took a glance at the horseshoes before stuffing them in his own hoodie’s pocket.

“Going with a different style.”

There were multiple reasons why Andrew never cheated. First, it reminded him of how unfair the world could truly be, the second stemmed from Ardin who once saw Aran break his hand from the horseshoe in glove tactic and now gets on top of people who do that. The 3rd reason was self explanatory, it was just wrong. He got here fair and square and he always wanted to stay like that.

Plus hitting a girl with horseshoes that were your own brother’s seemed wrong. But after a week of hearing the girl shit talk his own family the final straw was definitely close to breaking now.

Yet at the same time, it was still cheating. Even Narcis got onto him about it. Yes he wanted revenge for putting his sister in the hospital but she was 19 and able to stand her own ground normally.

“This is a mistake,” He muttered, adjusting his gloves.

There was a faint line that showed where the horseshoes were. He had time to call for a glove check. That would make a fair fight. He turned around to his coach but before he could say anything his opponent started yapping.

“Ey! Rran! You ready to prove to your own country that your family is full of weak and pathetic people? Thought your sister would relay the message!”

Rran- I mean Andrew snapped his head back, giving his opponent a death glare as his coach tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ay, you need something lad?”

Andrew thought for a moment before the bell signaling the start sounded.

“Just have medics on stand by.”

He got up from his corner, hearing the announcer shout the name Aran Ryan, god he's going to need to change that soon, with a lot more accuracy then the bitch Infornt of him ever actually did.

God will it be a blessing for her to shut up and have a ruined face.

The referee stepped onto the mat in-between the two, not uncommon when you put two enemies together in a match, and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Ight let's get this over with. This is a time trial so you only have 3 minutes. Once those three minutes are up you both go back to your corners and I'll decide the winner. You both should know the tko and ko rules by now right?”

“Yeah yeah can we get punching now?”

“Andrew, I will personally give you 20 euros if you break her mouth.”

Punch blade looked quite offended at that as Andrew just rolled his eyes.

“Oh relax about him.”

He glared at punch blade.

“I'm going to do much much worse.”

As the bell rung again Andrew’s coach went over to the doors, specifically where Roree and Aran were.

“Shouldn't yo-”

“I'm getting the medics like he asked. Wanna come?”

“No thanks. I got the short straw with this one.”

Aran slightly nudged Roree for that statement, solely because it wasn't a wise discussion even for him to smack someone who has a metal weight on her wrist. That alone was probably 5 pounds. Let alone the fact she was kinda an official arms wrestler. He proceeded to watch the fight, only slightly noticing something was off.

“Hey Roree?”

“Hm?”

“I think he broke her back.”

“Oh very fu- wait what.”

As if on cue as Roree turned around she saw Andrew push the screaming girl off of him, and landed a kick right in the stomach. Not a signature move in the ring. But definitely a signature move outside of it. And it always landed someone in the hospital and him in the station.

“Oh shit- uh Aran im going to run somewhere you just um stay.”

Aran just gave a thumbs up as Roree ran into the hall.

Meanwhile the referee started the count as soon as punch blade hit the floor, but stopped when he saw Andrew pull another punch directly in her face.

“Hey. Andrew, that's enough! Back to your corner!”

But Andrew didn't care, he continued the punches, landing them in spots that would definitely leave more than a bruise.

The only time he stopped was when a blade sliced over his glove, cutting it open, Resulting in the horseshoe falling out and a gasp from the crowd, even Aran looked shocked at the scene.

The shock eventually wore off as punch blade took her knife out of her glove and attempted to stab Andrew with it, only for him to grab her arm and smash the horseshoe right onto it.

The look in his eyes was almost chilling as he lifted the thing up, like he was contemplating something, before he smashed the horseshoe right into her mouth. Breaking past the mouth guard and cracking a few teeth, the second time did a few in.

He then grabbed her hair and smashed the side of her head, right where her ear was. He was about to go for her neck next when something grabbed the horseshoe and yanked it out of his hand.

“Jesus fuck Andrew enough! She's down! You won!”

Roree tossed the horseshoe aside and grabbed Andrew's arm and pulled him away while a medic looked at punch blade. The ring was now stained with blood.

“Dude the hell did you do to her?”

The referee got onto the ring while looking at punch blade, causing Andrew to look too.

Frankly what was listed wasn't the only thing he apparently did, there was a gash on her head and she was spitting pieces of teeth and mouth guard out, but she was clenching the side of her torso, specifically where the ribs were. And it was clear her arm was broken, or at least fractured. Her leg was sprained. Frankly Andrew didn't actually recall what he did or didn't do, but the horrified look on the peoples faces he could see spelled it all.

He almost killed her.

“Andrew?”

No response, what was there to say anyways? ‘oh i'm sorry for nearly killing you’?

Like he could have gotten the words out, his entire body was shaking, almost near hyperventilating.

Without another word he pulled his arm away from Roree, got up and rushed off the ring. Not even stopping as his sister yelled for him, then he was just gone.

It was only an hour after statements were given and the fun of it. In full frank nobody in any of the WVBA's would say anything bad about Andrew, hell shark bite from Australia even said he should have killed Lucy, yet it was completely useless as the officials found a letter of resignation and Andrew’s locker cleaned out shortly after they went to find him. Causing quite the worry in some of the Ireland officials and his own siblings.

“I'm sure he's fine. This was just. Something out of the ordinary he’ll come back!”

“No. No Aran he isn't.”

Roree sighed as she stopped herself from putting her head on the steering wheel of the car. Aran was holding his horseshoes Andrew stole, a case wasn't opened so it wasn't used as evidence, Aran wished it was though. It was probably more blood then horseshoe now, he had it wrapped in a couple of paper towels but they didn't do a good job of absorbing the blood. And frankly he was still scared of the whole thing, funny considering the fact he wasn't scared of anything else.

“Aran. If he's home I don't want you talking to him. Not yet anyways.”

Aran was about to protest as Roree held up her hand.

“You. You don't know this side of him. Frankly I rather you don't even come inside ‘til I tell you. Just, leave us alone to talk. Alright?”

There was more worry in her voice now. As if she was contemplating what she would find when she got home.

“Actually. If he is home -call Narcis, he had a fight with an Irish rookie today he should still be here, unless he actually likes making 2 to 6 hour trips.”

They stopped at their house, seeing Andrew’s bike just tossed onto the ground.

“Well at least he made it home in one piec- wait when did bring his bike?!”

“I think he just kept it there just in case.”

“Aran do me a favor and don't do that when you and Ardin move to new york. They're worse than here.”

Roree got out of the car and tossed her phone over to Aran.

“Narcis’s name is under ‘golden bastard’- don't tell Andrew- I'm going to go talk to him.”

Aran gave a thumbs up again as Roree went inside, her first notice was the mirror being foggy, the second was hot water being run.

“Andrew, you better not have been trying to wash your hands clean of blood like Lady Macbeth with hot water again!”

The water was shut off as the sound of a towel being quickly wrapped around hands was heard. How? Because he kept hitting the sink with his hand as Roree noticed him cleaning the sink from water drops.

“Andrew.”

“what?”

“The hell are you doing?”

“...dishes.”

“What dishes? I did them this morning before we left!”

Andrew stayed silent as Roree walked over, steam was still leaving the stink as she grabbed the towel and pulled it off, seeing his typically slightly tan but still pale skin being sunburnt red. She just sighed as if this wasn't the first time.

“I'm not going to bug you on that. Why did you quit?”

“Why? Ain’t it obvious?”

Roree just shook her head at that.

“Andy, nobody in that association is going to turn you in. Hell they'll even drop the to-”

“I don't care. I still broke my own morals and almost killed someone in the ring!”

“That's.. well that's a bit of an over statement aint it?”

“Oh when the hell is it?!”

Andrew slammed his hand on the sink, before pulling it back.

“It doesn't matter, Roree. I'm not going back to a place that allows filthy cheaters to compete.”

“Aran’s a filthy cheater. I’m a filthy cheater. Are you saying-”

“You two are different. And again it doesn't and will not matter! Frankly I was already planning on quitting. This was just a send off.”

Roree was taken aback a bit from that.

“But you love boxing! It was your dream! What changed?”

“There's a difference between a dream and a reality, Roree. My dream was boxing. The reality is that no matter what somebody is going to cheat someone out of something.”

Andrew put a hand on his head. “I'm getting a headache. I'm going to bed.”

Before Roree could say anything he tossed the towel onto her head and walked off to his room. The door slammed shut as he entered it. Roree just looked onwards. Pondering if he was being serious or not. Then the front door slammed open.

“DUDE YOU BROKE THE FECKIN' HANDLE!”

well on the high note. At Least they could now replace that ugly door handle Narcis just ripped off. Roree didn't say anything, just pointed to Andrew’s room as Narcis Sprinted to his room. She proceeded to glare at Aran.

“What?”

“I told you to just call him.”

“I did!”

“You said something, what was it?”

“Just a recap of everything.”

“I'm never trusting you with calling someone ever again.”

[melrosing]

MATE I have a feeling I am so late to this but what happened to your job!

lmao! so much! but I don’t have it anymore! ok you didn’t ask for the full story lmao but im always in the mood for venting lately so the full tale under the cut on What Happened With My Job

so without getting into detail they have been absolute asses all year!! like with each other the women in my team are like Bosom Pals but apart from a handful of pleasant people they just have no time for me lol it’s very cliquey??

anyway. we had some really difficult clients in the Spring who were ready to throw in the towel at every stage of our work process bc it was unfamiliar territory for them. I was leading the project but really struggling to meet their insane expectations like it was HUNDREDS of emails a day from like 8AM to 8PM and their ‘head of’ sometimes swearing at me on calls with a dozen other people and thinking I can work magic and get [MAJOR CELEBRITY] involved in a thing for them when objectively I can’t and just scream. anyway my directors get really uneasy because this is a big client and they don’t want them getting scared off so when the client starts reaching a crescendo of frustration they fully just scapegoat me right at the end of the campaign (at which point our results are great! lmao) and say it will be Dealt With

around the same time I start to realise that the business is failing and my ‘specialist position’ is typically the first kind to go and that COINCIDENTALLY they are on my ass day after day trying to insist im not meeting their ‘standards’ and genuinely making up the most insane reasons why not (like I know I’d be biased saying this but SERIOUSLY) so im like ohhh right. I see where this is going

THEN my dad gets goddamn incurable brain cancer and my whole life falls apart. and they suddenly have to be like ‘oh no. I am sorry this has happened. oh dear.’ I’m off two weeks having a complete mental breakdown until im kindly reminded that cough I’ve almost used up my statutory days of compassionate leave! but per company guidelines they do have to manage my workload whilst i er. struggle indefinitely w the emotional burden?? so my capacity is thus reduced and man you can tell they’re not thrilled about it

so they basically check in every Friday for a month saying ‘hope everything is ok can you take on more work yet’ CONSPICUOUSLY never asking how anything is going with dad (like when I first logged back in I had a catch up with my line manager and kind of tremulously started talking about what had happened and she literally said ‘it’s ok you don’t need to tell me the details’)

THEN I get GASTROENTERITIS 💃🏻 god knows how. but it’s a bad one and I physically can’t eat for a week man I eat like a banana a day and even that makes me sick lol. but whatever the first day I phone in and tell my director im not well. she’s like ‘WELL I ACTUALLY HAVE SO MUCH TO MANAGE RIGHT NOW SO THIS REALLY ISN’T HELPFUL LIKE I GET YOU CAN’T HELP BEING SICK BUT I REALLY NEED TO BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY TEAM TO SUPPORT COS WE HAVE A LOT COMING UP’ (I’m not even kidding)

so on the third day I log back in bc I feel like I need to just push through it but oh no im still vomiting my guts out so I message the same director ‘look I think maybe. I am still sick’ and she says NOTHING in response till I suddenly get a text from my LINE MANAGER saying ‘Hi. X says you say you still don’t feel well. We understand it’s food poisoning. That usually only lasts 24 hours’. LIKE??? apparently with all the compassionate leave I’d had to take, the sick leave was just too much for them to bear lmao so i got myself a goddamn doctor’s note and have to announce every day for the rest of that week ‘I’m still not well sorry’ (they never ever reply)

Then finally I recover and I log back in and my director doesn’t ask me how I am or anything literally just says ‘WELL let’s get straight to business’ and explains the status of everything at me for 20 mins going on about how stressful it all is.

And then an hour later I get a surprise call from my head of department telling me unforch they’re making me redundant. can’t be helped. understand this is a bad time for you personally. (said head of department has never addressed what bad thing is happening personally rn). and im in shock. till i figure that what with my dad this is probably an appalling time to make up some performance based reason to fire me so this was their only option

and then finally I see the paperwork and realise severance pay is a third of my annual salary. so i promptly get over it, log out halfway through the month whilst still being paid for my time till the end of it, and NOT ONE of those fuckers has even reached out to say goodbye in all that time but god knows I never want to hear from them again so?? fuck it! i told HR everything anyway I was like look I don’t want to take formal action but?? I think you should know.

and now im just gonna chill for Christmas w my dad and my fam and my pals and my cats and do my weird asoiaf shit on tumblr I guess lol. so there we go that’s what happened!!!!

tl;dr got made redundant lol

[aamethyst000]

DID YOU ALL SEE THE NORTHERN LIGHTS?! (may 11,24 - 8:45pm)

DUDE!!!! the fckn northern lights were so gorgeous last night!!ive nerver been more happy to be alive than i did last night and propably tinght too!! the fucking colours were so goddamn pretty!! all that magick looking arouras. god i love the northern lights~ i hope the clouds clear up again tonight and that the lights are brighter!! right now, i am cleaning up my room and then rearranging them to fit me better and for "change of season" feeling. keeping myself occupied until the lights come out. the sad thing though is that there was a (very) young one just passed away not even 2 days ago. those parents are only a few years younger than i am. its baffeling. and very sad. i hope those two can recover well, and that no one bothers them about it. this village is already rude about the funerals that happen here. almost no one repsects them, and the ones that do, are a part of that family or it was one of their family members passing away. the respect never stays. anyway, enough about saddness and funerals, the northern lights will be going off soon enough and i want my room to be clean before that happens, and judging by last night, it wiill be cold af again tonight.

11:08pm - judging by the weather tonight, we wont be able to see the northern lights. im so glad the was got to see them last night, they were so bright. my mom got sick just 2 days before mothers day, which is gotta suck all round for her. poor ma, she says its not but what may have push her over was drinking the last cup of coffee last night at 2am. i also think she was slowly getting sick before that, but it was body soreness and even more insomnia. she didnt even smoke today, how bad she feels, which sucks because we dont have any meds for her to take to properly recover. got no fricken money either. its very unfortunate that this happens almost every single time. its ridiculous how often this happens, and even when we do get some meds for us, we still end up with nothing once one of us in the house get sick. so if my mother is sick right now, i wonder who in the house will be next. so far, ive been the only one in mums room, so it might be me. on another note, the moon tonight looks so pretty~ its too bad that the clouds wont clear up for tonight. such a shame. i was so exicted and preparing myself to go outside and take lots of pictures while also admiring it. the way that the lights looked right above us was amazing, like it was circling right above the village <3 if you want to see my northern lights pictures, go to my instagram: @photographer.amethyst

i am posting what ive edited there and they look amazing! if i do say so myself <3 there are a few people now, trying to message me about being a freelancer or not. hell, just to sell my photography in general. i only do this as a hobby, selling my picutres will be a last resort only. this is not my last resort. at least, not yet it isnt. but thats for another day. right now, im going to have a puff and watch youtube videos for the rest of the night. so i think that this entry will be short as well. just maybe.

1:05am - it doesnt seem to be like the night to watch the notrthern lights tonight. it kind of sucks but i am so glad i got lots of pictures to edit and post <3 i just find it weird that it is very cold out right now and i just want to go back inside and curl up in my penguins blanket, never come out of my little cuccoon that i have made for myself. i made a second pot for myself basically. my little brother isnt drinking coffee, which is okie, its his choice. but its just me drinking the whole pot for now and for however long my mother will be ill for. hopefully this doesnt last long, conidering that we do not have any medicine for her to take. unfortunatly. even though she didnt eat at all today, she seems to need to throw up, or feel like thorwing up. dry heaving and whatnot. it genuinly does sound like that shit hurts. lots of thought run through my head when she gets like this. lots of anxiety and worry as well. i wonder if this is how she felt with all of her kids while we were growing up, and to change perspective, i wonder if this is how she felt when she was looking after her mother(my gran) while she was sick for a bit too. if so, no wonder she does everything in her power to make sure that we feel better and recover quick with the medicine she manages to find for us. speaking of, i may have to use my savings to go to the store again to find some medicine for her there. anyway, i think ill stop for tonight, hope you enjoy today/tonights entry, have a good day/night, readers~

[everything-i-couldnt-tell-u]

i remember how i fronted a lot around you before and god i was so happy cause i thought someone finally accepts me. til i found out you exposed my messages on that server and im still so humiliated. yk after that, arveil said that if only i didnt front and showed my embarrassing personality, things between you and him wouldnt have been ruined.

so well i moved to ranting on twt instead of doing it in anyones dms after that to avoid it happening again. but every time i fronted to rant on twt i always seemed to receive replies from you bc you noticed something wrong about me and the things i say? i gaslighted myself for so long that maybe i truly am so flawed that's why no one seems to want me to the point that i don't remember anything loveable about me anymore.

and the last time i talked to you seriously and asked what is it that you even liked about me, you told me that you don't know how to answer. even though it was already obvious that you dont like me, i still desperately looked for signs. but well you said that question suffocates you. that it's hard to love me cause i require a reason to be loved. i just really wished to know if i'm being loved for who i am and im not just being used, but i never got to know. you said that im the one who pushes everyone away like a bitch then whines about it when i get lonely. sure that was true but how am i not gonna push everyone away after ive been lied to and abandoned a lot? and to make things worse how would i not be pushing you away out of fear when you kept saying and doing things that make me feel like you dont like me?

but the day you told me i wasn't worth your time was the day it became clear to me that maybe you never loved me. i dont really care if you didnt mean that cause it was the only thing that made sense. sure maybe you didn't feel that way towards arveil but i'm sure you feel like that towards me. it was arveil you loved and not me. you didnt like how i felt like a soulless shell to you whenever arveil wasn't fronting. i always managed to make you lose your patience and lash out cause of how paranoid i am. you'd get sick of how arveil tries to fix his friendship with you after i sabotage it so much. if you get sick of him it's probably my fault again. im the price everyone pays for just so they can be with arveil but soon you'd think that the price isn't worth it right?

i feel like you and arveil must hate me so much so i started resenting both of you. yeah i dont like it when people treat me horribly but i hate it even more when people mistake me for and treat me like im arveil. it makes me feel sick, it feels like im being reminded that it's arveil that everyone wants to talk to and not me. that things wouldve been better if i never existed.

i know that you're genuine with arveil but i know you have no reason to love me. i promised you before that i wouldn't force you to answer that question anymore. unless you have a good reason to tell me why you'd want to have any connection with me, don't force it. after all the things ive seen and heard from you, what reason is there for me not the think that you don't hate me like everyone else? i just don't wanna get my hopes up thinking that you'd want me and i dont wanna feel guilty if in the end i'll just be the reason why your time got wasted.

[cordialcalliope]

my blog is three years old today or something im not sure I looked at the message for two seconds and started writing this. anyways

i took a nap for forty minutes and had the weirdest fuxking dream. the spiders were back (what a surprise) and a man who sounded distinctly like jonathan sims was arguing with them about the possibilities of the universe and then the spiders Converted him. im not sure what they converted him to but they kept repeating that they converted him and he started glowing like he was radioactive and the spiders came together to form a weird-ass humanoid being. made of thousands of spiders. they like led jonathan sims around and had him walk up to people and those people would just drop dead instantly, and their bodies would freeze up?? which doesn’t make any sense but whatever dream logic . anyways. after they stopped killing people we went up this tower which led to a massive ass hole in the universe and the spiders started jumping through it and told us to follow. i did not want to but jonathan sims threatened my partner and then pushed me in anyway?? the spiders were very annoyed but they were also happy because they were feeding off my fear or something. normal spider things. the hole lead to a planet that i know is a REAL planet because i have a massive hyperfixation on space but i can’t remember the name. this point in the dream is where i begin to understand i am dreaming and jonathan sims tells the spiders that i’m aware now? the spiders then wrapped my entire body in their silk and kept repeating a bunch of stuff in hungarian which i understood (i don’t speak hungarian.) about cows and sacrifices and keys to the universe?? (I asked a friend who understood Hungarian about some of the words I heard and he was like. Haha lol that’s right how did you know that, did you use Google translate etc etc, and i went . no I heard them in my dream. And he looked straight into the camera and laughed (we were on a video call) ) and then jonathan sims blasted me with his radioactivity and told me it was pride month and i died but like . I didn’t wake up yet

i was in this weird purgatory place with some guy who had a fucked up voice that was similar to michael’s from tma but it was distinctly Not Michael bc he 1) was not british and 2) did not sound anything similar to michael’s voice actor. he was american and asked me a bunch of questions about what it was like to have met jonathan sims in person. i told him i wanted to kill him a bit and then the guy started to melt and let out these really awful screams that sounded like . if you could imagine what a black hole sounds like with a billion fluorescent lights dying out and being sucked into it ?? with some echoey qualities that are guaranteed to make your ears bleed . That would be the sound. and then i got consumed by the All-Seeing-Many-Eyed-Elongated-Soul-Devouring god that the guy said he mentioned earlier but actually didn’t (this name was beamed into my head like a radio signal being picked up after moving slightly to the right with your device) and i woke up after i watched the guy i was with die

it felt really long even though I was only asleep for forty minutes. my brain worked overtime to produce all that shit. idont understand where half of the material was sourced from

i am so sick of the spiders

anyway blog birthday woohoo confetti confetti yay

[selznick]

idk fucking know.rant ig??? not big idk

but like i ibly rlly have 1 friend that im close to and thats ive opened up to about my austism and ocd like even a bit,,,,, and like my autism is fine or whatever and sure sometimes idk how to deal with people but its fine and we joke so its cool but my ocd is like,, a legit problem for me that I dont joke about but they will,,,, like sometimes i will casually mention it around them but they will joke abt it and like kool whatever,, ocd isnt happenong rn so idc ig

but like she was telling me how she went to a hincent van gogh exhibit abt his life and depression and how she cried at the 'ear'aser in the giftshop after, , and like its a hood point,,, people like to portray him cutting off his ear as like some cutesy joke or romantic gesrure and not like a seriours mental break down and self harm,,, which like cool she cares abt mental health and uknow the seriousness of it all

except when its roght in front of her??? like i messaged her when i wanted to pour boiling water on my foot to 'clean' it and half my brain was fully on board with it and the other half was like no that will make ot worse stop,,, so i messaged her as like idk a reaching out for some sort of help or distraction from my stupif fukcing brain,,, and she was just like,, no why would you do that? and was just argueing with me,, like thats not logical,,,, and I FUCKIING KNOW THAT WHY DO U THINK THERE ISNT BOILING WATER ON MY FOOT WHILE IM TEXTING U,,, and shes just like but why would u eevn think that,, like rememeber ur precious vincent van gogh and his fucking ear and my fuxking ocd,, and shes just like,, ohhh

and i talk to her when i was worried about getting sepsis from a small cut on my toe,, and shes just like no ur fine, uve not got sepsis obvi,, and like i brought it up again cuz its the only thing my brain would think of,, and she got annoyed that i kept bringing it up and now she fuxking jokes about me being obsessed with sepsis and that i just always think i have sepsis

like sorry my brain literally cant stop worrying abt this shit,, sorry i have phantom pains from my ocd that make me worry more and continue the fucking cycle

anyway today i was like ugh im gonna have a headache after yards,, could just feel one starting before it uknow,, and shes like just drink from the water fountain,, and i tell her i cant bcuz there was like a weird bottle on it and other debris around it and my ocd cant handle that,,, and she just tells me to drink from it and that its not an issue,, and when i was like ya no my ocd rmemeber she says shed drink some from it and then i could becuz were liek made from the same stuff so same body,,, and like how can i explain in a concise way that ya u can drink it fine but u r not me with stupid brain disease that doesnt care for logical conclusions and that no we dont have the same body were not even related and the fact i was vomiting for like an entire day not too long ago so my brain has been pretty weird abt it since,, and i cant so i instead say smth like,, no were not the same body and i was sick at christmas and i would still feel ill or throw up because my brain placebo would still fuck it up

she still pushes me to just drink from the fountain cuz its not a big issue but like to me it is,, another friend had a water bottle and offered me some amd that end the conversation so thank god they were there otherwise id have to argue my own thoughts to someone,,, do you srsly think i want my actions to b this illogical,, no i want to just live and be able to carry on without brain worms controlling what i can and cant do

but like its so frustrating to have to argue logic and reason with my own brain,, i dont want to have to have the same arguement with a friend that cant seem to understand how much it affects me because im not currently screaming crying and cutting my limbs off

and it sucks becuz shes like the only person i an talk to but she just doesnt understand and doesnt seem to care

my finger has a cut on it at the moment,, similar to my toe,, and its fucking with my brain,, only thing i can rlly think of,, but i cant talk to the one person i can talk to becuz its just an annoyance to her and i should just get iver it,,, not like i can feel other pain in parts of my body that my brain is relating to it and not like i had to convince myself that my gums were a normal colour (they were) and not blue black,,,, but i cant even just b like o ya my brain thinks im dying can u distracct me cuz shes just be weird about my mental health and bring it up later as a joke

but i dont rlly joke abt my ocd,, i make some nokes abt having it but not my actual symptoms and i feel weird eevn fully talking abt it in case someone find out, doesnt take it serious and doesn something on purpose to spite/upset me,, so for her to make jokes abt my symptoms without even showsing any sympathy while im going through them just fukcing sucks,,, and like ive not daid anything bcuz idk how to breatch that topic,,,,, ummm i think u dont care abt my mental health and it makes me not want to ever talk to u abt it but at the same time ur the only person i can talk to abt it and the jokes make me super uncomfy please inhenrently knpw what my brain needs thanks,, i just,, ik shell be like sorry im not good at reading ppl so i didnt realise cuz thats what she said abt the van gogh and me boiling water foot thing ,,,, like babes u know abt my asd and ocd and im currently telling u abt my distressing thoughts,,, thats not people skills im fucking telling u im going through it like RIGHT NOW and u just do not care

ok this rant was bigger than i thought,, oop

my arm aches now and i need to frind smth to ditract me from the urge to chop ny finger off 🙃🙃🙃

[mkfluffluv]

Keep The Secret?

MAINLY JAKE LOCKLEY X GN READER , SOME MARC SPECTOR AND STEVEN GRANT X GN READER

prompt : marc and steven had gotten themselves sick. luckily for them, they have a wonderful and loving partner who's willing to take care of them(you). unbeknownst to you, another person is taking care of them in their own way. (yes it's jake.)

i finally finished this and it ended up a lot longer than i had planned but i'm pretty okay with it, so, enjoy!

likes and reblogs appreciated, also leave me requests cause im running out of ideas!!

warnings(?) : fluff. maybe angst? but mostly fluff. my knowledge on DID is very limited but im hoping i didn't mess anything up and if i did, feel free to message me about it!!

word count : 2,705

masterlist

Here you are, preparing all of your boyfriends' pills for them cause they're too tired to get out of bed. Someone had coughed on Steven while on his way to the museum and now they're sick with a sweltering hot fever  and a horrid cough. They were constantly switching with each other because neither of them wanted to deal with the sickness and while yes, being sick without fronting is still being sick, it is still much better than actually having to experience a sick body. Sometimes you wonder why or how you had fallen in love with these two idiots.

"Will you both please just stop arguing and drink your medicine?" You demand from your very sick boyfriends who are currently quarreling with each other. A mirror was placed beside the bed where Steven was laying down on, where he is coughing every few sentences that he says to presumably Marc, as he tells him, pretty much begs him to take over for a few minutes so that he can stop feeling so bad at least a little bit. You can't hear Marc but from the way Steven is getting more and more exasperated by the second, he's probably being very stubborn and refusing to switch.

A bunch of toddlers those two are.

You run a hand through your hair and drag it down your face, letting out a groan in irritation. You’ve been by their side for hours now, making sure they’re getting enough rest and drinking their medicine and honesly, If you didn't love these two dorks, you probably would have left hours ago. But if you'd left, they'd just be arguing all day and not resting and that is the opposite of what you want these two to be doing.

After giving up on trying to get the boys to drink their pills, you approach Steven on the bed, pushing him down by the shoulders, forcibly tucking him in, and shushing him when he tries to say something about you treating him like a baby. "Please, love, just go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up." You tell him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Steven is quiet for a while but then sighs defeatedly and nods, knowing there's no point in arguing with you about it since he's already tired anyway. His head immediately sinks into the pillows as he relaxes and closes his eyes. You sit beside him, humming a soft tune while running your hands through his hair. His breathing slows in mere seconds.

Thank god. You were starting to get really tired of their bickering and if they were to go on any longer, you would seriously start contemplating using that neck pinch trick Marc taught you to get them to pass out already. Sighing in relief, you lift yourself from the bed and walk over to the small stove to start cooking up some soup for them to eat when they wake up.

However, as you were cutting up some carrots, you hear shuffling coming from the bed. Assuming that it's probably just Steven stirring in his sleep, you choose to ignore it and continue to cook.

But the shuffling continues and it isn't until you hear a creak on the floor that you turn your head to the other side of the room where possibly Steven is leaning against the wall trying to walk towards his desk.

Oh for the love of-

"Steven! I told you to rest, if you needed the pills you could've just-" Before you could finish your sentence, however, Steven had swiftly darted across the apartment towards you, as if he was never even sick. Suddenly there is a dagger that he had pulled out of who knows where threateningly close to your throat.

This is not Steven and you have a very good feeling that it isn't Marc either.

"Who are you?" A slight accent that isn't American nor British comes out of the man, his voice low and more gravelly than the others. Slowly, you place the knife back down on the cutting board and both of your hands come up to your chest, hopefully showing this stranger that you are now unarmed and not here to hurt anyone.

"I'm just here to take care of Marc and Steven. I'm their significant other." There is a pregnant pause after you say this like he's contemplating whether your words could be trusted or not. His eyes dart around the room. First, towards the soup on the stove, then the pills on the desk, and finally the small portraits of you and your boyfriends. He finally lets go of you, making you fall to the floor with how weak your knees felt after all that.

"God fucking damn it those idiots." The stranger says, the accent coming out of his mouth (your usually american and british lovers' mouth)  is something that would probably take a while to get used to. It surely took you a while to get used to Marc’s accent. The man drags his hand across his face and takes one deep breath before dropping down to the floor right next to you. "I'm very sorry about that." He leans sideways against the kitchen counter, a charming smile making its way up to his face. You notice that it's different from the way the other boys smile.

There's still a bit of confusion floating around in your head, way too many questions that you just can't seem to form the words to ask him. So instead, you just nod. "I can't really forgive you for threatening my life like that." You can still feel the blade close to your neck, merely only centimeters away from cutting it open and bleeding to death. You rub at the spot to get rid of the phantom feeling and steady your breathing. It's fine. You're not in danger anymore. Plus, you have a feeling this new guy wouldn't hurt you. His posture is no longer tense, now relaxed, and frailer considering the body is still very sick and the dagger was thrown across the room a few seconds ago. Whether it's because he trusts you or if it's because he's too weak to start anything right now, he doesn't look like he would hurt you.

"Care to explain why you suddenly attacked me though?" You dare to ask, to which the man laughs and then coughs violently into his arm. Out of instinct, you reach out to him but stop yourself. He may have the face and the body of your boyfriends but he is still a potentially dangerous and untrusting stranger.

Eventually, the coughing does stop and now he looks as tired as Marc and Steven did before. You can't help the clenching feeling in your chest at the sight of him. As if he can feel your pitying gaze, he turns to you again, his smile now softer. "I'm very protective of them. Thought you were a stranger. Plus my mind was all bleary so I couldn't think straight. Sorry." He apologizes again, this time you can't help but feel bad for him. You don't know why you suddenly trust this man after he'd almost slit your throat open but the care and love were so evident in his tone of voice and it warmed your heart to know that there's someone else close to them to care about those two idiots.

So you return his smile and nod, before getting up to your feet and offering a hand to him. He looks at it incredulously as if he's never seen a hand before. It's adorable but also kinda stupid for him to be this untrusting of an empty hand.

"Come on, get up. You're still sick and in need of rest. Plus I still need to finish that soup." You tell him, waving the hand in front of him for him to take.

He eventually does and you help him up to his feet, letting him lean on you when he nearly falls at the sudden dizziness erupting in his head.

"What's your name by the way?" You ask him as you slowly guide him back towards the bed. He coughs once into his hand and his face turns to look at you, the smirk back on his face before he responds:

"Jake Lockley, a pleasure to meet you."

-

"Can you promise to keep this a secret?" Jake asks you as you were scooping up another spoonful of soup to feed him. He insisted he didn't need to be fed by you but when you saw him shake as he held the bowl, you pretty much forced it out of his hands and started feeding him. You just wouldn't want soup all over his sleeping pants, that's all.

He flinches at the glare that you give him for even asking that. Keeping something as big as this a secret from your boys? No, absolutely not. Why would he even dare suggest that?

You voice these thoughts to him as you place the bowl of soup on the bedside table and he shakes his head. Jake turns his body so that he's facing towards you, staring deep into your eyes. He moves forward and grabs your now empty  hands, holding them tightly in his. The feeling of his calloused palm against yours makes your cheeks flush.

"Please. I swear I'm only doing this to protect them." He practically begs, your hands that are clutched tightly in his are starting to hurt with how tight he's holding them but not enough to be unbearable. You want to refuse. Marc and Steven deserve to know after all. They shouldn't be kept in the dark like this.

But when you open your mouth to tell him no, his head drops into your lap, his face now hidden in the fabric of your clothing, and his hands are still not letting go of their tight grip on yours as he lets out another quiet plea. "I just don't want them to know yet. Please." His voice is slightly muffled but sounds genuine enough for you to let out a defeated sigh. Damn him and his pleading voice.

"Fine." You respond. Jake's head immediately snaps up from its former position, his eyes that are staring into yours shine with adoration. You're taken aback by how that look makes you feel. Oh no. Not doing this again.

You shake the thoughts from your head and then clear your throat. The puppy eyes are simply only effective cause they're the same as your boyfriends'. That's all. There's nothing more to it.

Quickly, you take your hands away from Jake's, placing them back on your lap. "I promise to not tell them." His face beams up with joy and it reminds you a little bit of the way Steven would look whenever you pay attention to one of his ramblings and gosh does that make your heart go weak. You regain your composure though after mentally slapping yourself and focusing on the task at hand. "But you will tell them soon, right?" You ask him. "It just doesn't feel right to be lying about all of this."

"I know." Jake sighs, rubbing at his temples and massaging the area to ease the pain of his aching headache. "I know, it's just that I haven't figured out how to tell them without freaking them out." He rests his head against the headboard and closes his eyes. "I've done some things that they might not agree with."

Oh. You remember Marc and Steven telling you stories about them passing out in life-threatening situations and then waking up with people either dead or passed out around them, with their fists covered in blood. When asked, both of them refuse to admit who was at fault. It seems that they were both telling the truth. None of them did that. It was all just Jake. Somehow, this doesn't make you scared of him. He was only protecting the loves of your life, after all, even if you don’t agree with his way of doing it, you still appreciate it.

"I'm sure they'll understand." You say to him. You don't really want to give in to the voice that's telling you to hold him close. You don't. But right now Jake looks so much like a sad kicked puppy, with his head hung low and his fingers fiddle like he doesn't believe the words that you've said to him and you have this very strong and irresistible urge to pull him in for a long and comforting hug. You don't know if it's because the face you're looking at right now is the same one as your boyfriends' or if it's because of this stupid and conflicting feeling lying in your heart that you're sure to talk to Marc and Steven about soon cause there's no way you're not telling them about this.

Ah fuck it, it doesn't matter.

Giving in to your urges, you pull him into your embrace, holding him close to you and rubbing circles along his back to comfort him. You can feel Jake going tense for a second, definitely not expecting that from you, before he relaxes into your touch as he wraps his own arms around you. The hug might have looked awkward with the way you were both sitting on the bed but it's still pleasant, it feels safe, and it's everything Jake could've ever asked for.

The two of you hug for a while, settling into each other's arms without any conversation needing to be had. You stay like that until he falls asleep, probably exhausted after everything and you gently lay him down on the bed, tucking him in and by reflex, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

-

For the whole time that they were sick, Jake was the only one fronting. When asked about why that is, Jake's response was:

"Ask them when they remember the last time they were sick and were awake for more than half a day and they wouldn't know. That's cause I'm usually the one taking care of the body when we're sick." He had explained one night while downing the necessary pills for his recovery. Jake winced as he felt them go down his throat. "Once we're healthy enough, Marc or Steven are going to wake up and think they'd just slept through the days."

True to his word, when they've finally started to get better, Marc finally wakes up one bright morning, looking around at his surroundings and scratching at his head. You smile at the adorable sight and can’t help but to give him a quick kiss on his lips, morning breath be damned. He asked you what time and day it was as he always does when he wakes up, his eyes widened in shock. He faces the mirror beside the bed and asks Steven if he had been awake at all but by the look on Marc’s face, you can tell that Steven had told him that he wasn’t. Marc turns to you, clearly confused. "How did we even sleep for two whole days?"

When Marc asks this, you start to contemplate just telling him about Jake. You didn't want to lie to them. It wouldn't feel right for you to keep this all a secret from them cause Marc and Steven deserved to know. But it also wouldn’t be fair to Jake if you broke your promise.

Damn it.

It's real stupid of you to have grown so attached to Jake despite only meeting the man once and even knowing that you probably wouldn't be seeing him any time soon. It’s even stupider to lie to your boyfriends about this whole thing just because you wanted to keep a promise. But you had already promised and somehow, you trusted him with this.

So, you just press a kiss to Marc's temple and then hurry off to the kitchen, telling him that you’re getting him some soup. The thought of warm food in his belly is enough to make Marc forget about his question from before.

It’s fine.

Jake will explain it to them soon enough.

[boeswhore]

62,90,92 with Owen plz!!!

62. “you’re overthinking— i’m yours. that’s all i want to be.”

90. “god, i’m so in love with you.”

92. “i don’t wanna pretend anymore.”

you sigh as the phone call reaches voicemail once again. you’ve been continuously trying to contact owen via text and calls but nothing seemed to work in your favour.

you could have sworn that everything was completely fine between the both of you just last week when you both had your annual movie night date.

you had to admit, it hurt. the movie night really made you think that the feelings you had towards owen were reciprocated when he was more clingy than usual; continuously wanting you by his side.

your hopes immediately shattering as he began to avoid you. you have tried to text kent about it, being super close with him as well but he didn’t know what was going on with the 6’5 defencemen either.

“try going over to his house y/n. maybe you’ll have some luck?”

you purse your lips, as you stare at kent through the little facetime chat you had going on.

“he’s avoiding me k, what makes you think he wants me at his house at 9:30pm in the pouring rain knocking on his door!” you grumble causing him to roll his eyes.

“what if he does? you never know unless you go.” kent retorts and you sigh, knowing he’s right. “keep me updated.”

“i will.”

and with that, you grab your keys making your way over to owens house. as you pull up to his driveway you take a deep breath of relief when you see his car parked in his driveway which meant he was home.

you step out of your car, quickly making your way to his door, the rain coming down harder than ever. you wrap your arms tightly around yourself as you ring the door bell; knocking on the door twice.

within a couple of seconds, the door is opened and you’re face to face with owen. he had his glasses on, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.

his eyes widen, “y/n— what are you doing here?”

“trying to talk to you. what’s going on? you’ve been avoiding me for days o,” your teeth chattering, as you rub your hands up and down your unfortunate short sleeve shirt.

“get in here, you’re going to get sick.” owen says sternly, pulling you into the comforts of his home. your short sleeve shirt and cotton shorts were now soaked and you mentally slap yourself at your poor clothing choice.

“are you insane? it’s pouring down outside and you’re knocking at my front door in just a tshirt and shorts!” owen exclaims as he takes your hand in his, rushing you to his bedroom.

he grabs a pair of sweats with a hoodie, handing them over to you. “go change,”

“no— we need to talk owen.”

“y/n, you’re going to get sick.”

“i don’t care— we’re talking right now.”

“are you—”

“owen, what’s happening? we were completely fine last week and then you just go all mia on me. i thought that— and then you weren’t even answering any of your calls and messages god i was so worried. what’s going on can you please tell me?”

he sighs, “nothings wrong y/n— i’ve just been busy.”

you scoff, pushing your glasses up on your face. “bull fucking shit o, you can use that excuse with anyone else but you’re not pulling that with me.”

“i don’t wanna pretend anymore.”

“you— what are you talking about?”

“us y/n, i’m talking about us! i can’t keep pretending that i don’t have feelings for you when you’re the only thing that runs through my mind 24 fucking 7! when i’m near you, i feel my heart pound like crazy. i love how you comfort me after my bad games, i love when you come cheer me on at my games and i love how your eyes crinkle when you laugh. fuck i love everything about you— god, i love you so much.”

you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. you’re taken back from his confession. the boy you’ve been crushing on since you both met just said he loves you back.

“o, i— you love me?”

“i know it’s out of nowhere and i know this could potentially ruin everything but i can’t imagine losing you because of this, fuck im so sorry.” he rambles, stressfully running his fingers through his hair.

you walk up to him, caressing his cheek before gently pressing your lips against his. he stalls for a minute before running his fingers down your sides down to your hips, tightly pulling you against him.

“you’re overthinking— i’m yours. that’s all i want to be.” you murmur against his lips causing him to smile softly, before placing another sweet kiss to your lips.

“you’re shivering y/n, please go change into these now. i don’t want you falling sick just because of my stupidity.”

you chuckle; taking his clothes from his hands, “so thoughtful of you.” you say rolling your eyes.

he raises his eyebrows, smirking at the ping of sass that laced your words. “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“i just did power.” you reply, turning around to head out his room, sneaking another look at his face and catch him staring at you with a smirk, shaking his head.

you bite your lip, smiling to yourself as you head to the bathroom.

god, you loved this boy so much.

[fuwushiguro]

AWWWWWWWWWWW BBY CONGRATS CONGRATS im so happy for u💖💖💖

and for ur event, what about kiri being a personal trainer? that would be hot hehehe 🙈🔥

lots of kisses 4 u <3

Notes: AAAAA twinnie!!! Thank you so much 🥺 I've never written Kiri before so I hope this is okay hehe 💕

Warnings: Dubcon, Dry Humping, Exhibitionism, Teasing

PT!Ejiro Kirishima x f!Reader

He's had a crush on you for the longest time. It musn't have been very obvious to you, because if you suspected anything he doubts you would have willingly subjected yourself to him being your trainer.

You were used to coming to the gym alone. Often opting to do cardio over anything else. You saw Kirishima around the gym and always smiled to him. One day when you got on the treadmill you noticed a new marketing campaign on the electronic screens. You saw his face, his details, information about him. The gym was clearly trying to push personal training onto their clients. Normally you wouldn't pay attention, but... God he's cute. What a lovely photo of him, how haven't you noticed how cute he is before? You wrote down his details for later.

He almost choked on his drink at around 9PM that evening when the message came through. How is it possible to sound so cheery through text? You were asking if he could train you! It was like a dream come true! Of course, he'd be happy to do it! He'll even give you a free trial...

He found out pretty quickly that you wanted to add weight lifting to your training. You were sick of just doing cardio. After a few weeks went by, you were practically seeing him everyday of the week. Your sessions together were the best part of his day.

"I can't do it Kiri!" you huffed, completely frustrated that you were struggling doing deadlifts. Your legs were hurting too much.

"Yes you can! I know you can!"

"I can't really I can't..."

A beat of silence went by. You took a hearty swig from your water bottle as he contemplated what he should do next. He almost salivated at the sight of you guzzling down your drink. Water leaking out of the corner of your mouth. He held his eyes shut and composed himself, God forbid he get a hard on right now.

"Let's stretch some more, yeah?" Kirishima suggested. You shook your head.

"It's so embarrassing in front of everyone..."

He scoffed out a laugh at that. What's so embarrassing about stretching? But this might work to his advantage... Finally an opportunity to get you all alone. His finger performed a 'come hither' motion as he exited the main gym, you followed obediently. You found yourself in the yoga studios, he just so happened to have a spare key. He even locked the door after you. You know, so no one would walk in and make you feel embarrassed.

You aren't sure why you were so surprised that he was so limber. He is a personal trainer after all. But when you voiced your surprise, he told you that he takes yoga classes too. You feel so very lucky to have such a talented PT.

He's losing it. He's totally losing it because your body is so beautiful when you're following all of the poses and stretches he's telling you to perform. He needs to keep it together. He needs to. He can't. He can't... He won't.

"Come here for me sweetheart." he instructs.

This is new. His arms are wrapped around your torso. Your back is being held tightly against his chest. Is he trying to correct your posture? You go along with it for a little while. Your eyes bulge when you realise what's going on. A deep grunt erupts from his chest directly into your ear as he gyrates his hips slowly against your ass. His dick hardens perfectly between your cheeks. You try to pull away, but he's too strong for you.

He's even too strong with one hand wrapped around your torso. He moves his other to find your cunt above your lycra leggings. The moan that erupts from him as he discovers how wet the area is makes slick pump out of you almost instantly. Is your intimate area sweaty from working out or are you just so wet for him already? It's both.

"Kiri..." you mewl, matching his movements. So you're into this too after all? That's all he needs to hear. He spins you around and kisses you deeply. You want him too, it's so messy and heated. He helps lower you to the ground.

You're on your back with your legs spread wide for him. Kirishima grinds his cock against your damp crotch and the feeling is ecstacy. It doesn't matter that you've both got clothes on. This is enough. He sucks and bites at your neck. He knew you'd have pretty moans.

"Waited so long for this baby." he admits. You giggle at that. "You're so noisy... super sensitive huh?" he asks. You nod. It's embarrassing, but it's been so long since you've been touched. You're so desperate and needy.

"'m gonna... gonna..."

"Do it. Cum for me princess." he hums into your ear.

"Nngh!" you were powerless to his words. The way his fat cockhead perfectly nudged at your clit even through his shorts. You didn't stand a chance at holding out any longer. His large hand forced your face to his so he could kiss you through your orgasm. He digested your moans, he'd been waiting for them for so long.

"What would people think if they walked in on you getting dry fucked in the yoga rooms?" he teased.

He rolled off of you onto his back. He wanted to cum, so badly. But he couldn't. He couldn't be dealing with his work shorts filled to the brim with his sticky backed up load for the rest of his shift. He's got you now, doesn't he? You'll let him have you again. He's sure you'll be kind enough to relieve him when his shift is over. He doesn't know how he'll get through it. None of his clients are as fun as you...

this is part of my ON THE JOB event

© 2021 fuwushiguro