#but idk what else i can do cries at least i like it??? i think???????

[may3505w]

(this is long and I was very horny so a lot of spelling mistakes and it's not very good i think? Idk, enjoy)

I want a guy in my life, wherever it's my work or school or something other class I take, to have a crush on me and rape me because he just can't hold back.

I want him to think nothing much about me when he saw me at first but the day I woke tighter clothing and he could see my body, he knew he needed me. He's more of a loner and isn't very attractive, and I just seem quiet and pretty smart so he knows I won't talk to him, so he just watches my body me from afar, looking at my pretty tits bouncing pretty smile, at my cute ass cute way I brush my hair from my face... He knows he wants me.

He started to observe me more. What I do, who I talk to, what way I take home... So when whatever activity we did together ended, he knew what to do. Cornering me somewhere dark and secluded enough so no one could hear and ripping my clothes off violently and eagerly. He just couldn't wait, he knows he won't have a lot of chances to see someone as cute and pretty as me like that, and he did hear I'm a virgin...

He'd feel my body up as the tore clothes fall onto the ground, kissing me to try to muffle my sounds and moving to sucking on my nipples when he's such there's truly no one around. I struggle and try to push him away. He's sucking too hard and it hurts, his teeth graze and nibble on my pretty puffy nipple as he moves his hands to my torso, holding my back directly behind where my breasts are to pull me closer for a better position to suck harder. He's enjoying this, how much it hurts... how good it hurts.

I start to get used to the pain, tears covering my face at the pain but also from the fear I felt as I feel him sliding one of his hands under my panties. No preparation no anything, he pushed 3 fingers in and starting fucking me with them violently. I got wet from him teasing my nipples so they managed to get in, but the sudden penetration and his huge fingers fucking me so hard and deep...

He took my pants off, sliding one of my legs above his shoulder and slapping my pussy for getting so soaked so fast.

"oh fuck, you're really a whore aren't you? Just need to be dicked down hm?"

He started taking his pants off making my eyes shoot open. I tried to push him off unsuccessfully and hit his chest with my hands as he ignored my protests, only focusing on my body and how he can use it for himself.

"that's fucking pathetic you know? You're smart! Or at least you make people think you are. But in the end of the day, you'll always be a girl. Look at these tits... Fuck, these perfect fucking tits. You're a hole. A very pretty hole, but that's what you are and what you'll be for everyone. For the rest of your life."

He mumbled as he stroked his cock, giving it last few strokes before lining it up with my entrance and looking at me in the eyes, his voice clear and stern.

"such a shame. If only your mind was given to a man. You're too pretty to think though, every men will tell you that. You should be a trophy your man could show around, a pretty little toy that he gets to dick down and show off. It doesn't matter if you want something else, with a body like that, you don't have a choice."

And with that, he pushed in. Surprisingly he was a bit slow at first, watching me panic as he pushes further and deeper in me. He was huge and I was tiny and a virgin and he held my against the wall which didn't make it easier. After a minute of letting me barely adjust though... He started letting out his frustration.

"such a pretty thing, a thing, that's what you are. Come on, let me see those tits, that's all I want from you"

He moved me a bit to lean on the wall as both of my legs leaned on his shoulder, and pushed every inch of his thick, meaty cock back in with one go. Kissing my neck and pounding me as hard and as fast as he possibly can and getting off to my cries of pain at his length.

He fucked me rough and hard, his hands traveling all around my body, touching me like I'm his toy, his flashlight or his doll to play with as if this was what I was made for. I could feel everything so intensely, his cock splitting me in half and hitting me in all the right places, his lips on my nipples making me whimper again, his hands holding me close to him so he could fill me up as deep as he could, his cock twitching inside me... Every sensation was so overwhelmingly strong and as much as I didn't want to admit it I got closer to cumming with every thrust.

He noticed.

A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he felt me tightening around him. He started to go faster.

"don't worry dolly, I'm close too. If we'll come together the chances of you getting pregnant will go up, so I promise I'll do my best to rape that orgasm out of you hm?"

It felt too good to fight it, and the mention of his breeding me and cumming inside... It didn't take long till we both came. He grabbed my hips with one hand and slammed into me aggressively, filling me up completely and reaching as deep as he could while he help my belly softly with the other, pressing slightly to feel his cum pumping inside before finally feeling me cumming around him, giving him the cue he needed. He came hard, shooting long ropes of thick fertile cum into my unprotected womb.

I let a sigh. I started recovering from the orgasm, and as stressful as this situation is, he finally came. I could go home and deal with it, I just need to- he broke my line of thought with another chuckle.

"you're cute. You didn't- fuck... You thought we were done, weren't you? Aww, that's cute. Shhh shhh shhh... It's okay it's okay, just let me fuck my cum back inside you and... That's it, shut the fuck up, good girl. God you're cute like this."

After raping and breeding me dumb for hours, I couldn't even talk or walk right. When he was finally done, there was only one last thing to be done. Putting my underwear back on to keep all the cum inside, and snapping a picture.

"aw you're pathetic... You didn't think that was the last time didn't you? Oh no, I'm gonna use you regularly. And if you have anything to say about that... Just remember who has a picture of you filled to the brim with cum while laying naked on some random sidewalk. Now... Yeah, I think I'll leave you like this. Maybe some strangers will see you and use you, gotta warm you up for me for when I use you tomorrow"

[hinamie]

10 years later

[itsalwaysdark]

i want to watch the things on my watchkist but i also never do its rly tragic

[i-yap]

Do you think Jason would cheat on his girlfriend? , a question that has been disturbing me, I mean, the Wayne family isn't very faithful, especially Bruce himself

Would Jason Todd be a traitor? (I love your writing have I said that?)

Jason x reader

JASON?? CHEATING ?? HAHA NO. Out of all the batboys or even all the men that exist, Jason would be least likely to cheat. You are his saviour, a goddess, his one and only saving grace and the only thing in this world he loves. He would rip out his penis and stab all women of the world( except you) before even thinking about willingly touch a woman. He doesn't want to see another woman ever, he never wants to see another person. He only has eyes for you..literally he just stares a lot man idk what to say.

Jason is really scared of hurting you . He is very insecure about his mental state and emotional state so he doesn't think he can treat you right. the irony is that because of this he treats you amazingly.

The only case scenario I can imagine is that he thinks you betrayed him and he is in a lot of pain because the only person in the world he thought would never hurt him just hurt him. Even then he will double triple check and ask you( drop to his knees and cry) But if there is a really bad misunderstanding or you've actually betrayed him or if he has had a particularly shitty day. He just rushes to vigilanting with a newfound passion. There he sees another girl teammate and she asks him to open up and he does. She does the arm touching thing , gives him "the look" and tells him she can treat him right so when she kisses him, he doesn't stop her. But he does start crying mid kiss and just leave . It wont go further than a kiss. He rushes back to you and cries. demands for an explanation. But he can never be with another woman after you. Its either you or no one else.

[allpiesforourown]

After recently seeing one of those tattoo asks regarding asshole roommate binghe au I've been having severe brainrot and I'm slowly cooking a perhaps a bit ooc fanfic but I need your thoughts.

SY having super off perception of himself and confronting it with what Airplane bro and his meimei tell him and he gets pissed and huffs and puffs and in a fit of a momentary bravado ignited by feeling wronged he goes and gets something edgy nobody would accuse him of having, e.g. nipple piercings (i love gap moe and as a fellow thin faced supposedly serious person i love that they are so lowkey and easy to hide until they aren't). He probably only gets one though before it sinks in what he just did and all of the consequences hit him like a bus. Yadda yadda Binghe has to help him clean the piercing for at least 2 weeks but of course he needs to make sure it heals properly and doesnt get infected so it becomes their routine and they both suffer from getting all close and personal with his nipples (Binghe probably also cries a lot thinking how it must have hurt and how could anyone with a conscience agree to doing this to SY and barely contains his bloodlust because not only this random person hurt him but got to see him shirtless? Touch his nipple? More than once? Witness him gasp and shudder and who knows what else???). Bonus points if Binghe is on the brink of insanity, eventually gets drunk, pulls Hua Cheng and gets that womb tattoo but it's traced from Yuan-ge's actual signature from like, idk, their super platonic valentine card exchange from 10 years ago or their apartment rental contract or something crazy and thus can't get laid anymore because it truly was the last straw for all of his girlfriends and fwbs.

Sorry for being feral, idk if it even sounds coherent but I love seeing these guys put into situations.

Also regarding the "possible consequences in case he need's MRIs", I'm gonna say implant grade titanium jewelry and hope for the best because in that case I'm literally in the same boat as him. Or glass retainers? I'm sorry Pie I respect you so much and care for your opinion like you're Shizun himself but no matter how unrealistic this whole scenario is please let me have it 😭😭😭

+ i can imagine Binghe easily going overboard and buying him more and more over the top jewelry once he graduates from the bars he was pierced with

I'm laughing so much at this anon. You don't need to apologize we're all freaks here. Shen Yuan should get a matching womb tattoo of Binghe’s signature too actually

Okay but for real when shen yuans nipple piercing hurts and he puts something cold over it binghe has the mental image of taking it in his mouth and massaging it with his tongue and has to run into their washroom and turn the an ice cold shower on immediately without even taking off his clothes. Shen yuan runs in after him and asks what the hell he's doing and binghe goes oh you know. Just chilling.

[imasradiantasthesun]

idk something doesn’t quite sit right with me with the common headcanon that finnick and mags overplayed annie’s condition to help protect her and discourage the capitol from focusing on her. i’m not trying to start any sort of arguments or debate rn just thinking out loud bc like. what if it isn’t being overplayed. can’t we have a very visibly mentally ill woman. annie dissociates and cries in public and laughs at strange moments and physically reacts to her flashbacks by closing her eyes and covering her ears, all in public, all even in front of people she doesn’t know personally, and i think that should just. be ok with the fandom. while it’s a sweet mentality and i can see why people believe it, there shouldn’t have to be some ulterior motive behind any of her actions or how she portrays herself.

also. we as readers learn more about the victors at the same time as katniss, essentially providing us with how victors are seen in the eyes of the audience vs how they really are without the cameras. and in that earlier perspective, there are victors who are visibly affected by their trauma: haymitch and chaff drink, and the victors from d6 use morphling, and annie is “insane.” we learn later that they’re all broken, both bc katniss gets closer to them but also bc they go through even more trauma: finnick is barely holding on in d13 before annie’s rescue, and johanna is angry not just bc that’s her personality but also bc she’s in so much pain, and she eventually turns to morphling.

and just. idk. everyone else is able to keep up a facade that the capitol is willing to put up with if not outright use, and those who can’t keep that facade up become addicted to something that keeps them docile: the morphlings may not be outright usable, but at least they’re too out of it to do anything, and chaff seems to generally be a positive presence (at least in the eyes of the capitol), with or without alcohol. and johanna, while not abusing any substances until d13, (eventually) constructed a coping mechanism that was deemed palatable: with her family gone, she became angrier and more aggressive, both bc she had nothing to lose but also as a reaction to her trauma, and in the audience’s eyes anything she says or does can be brushed off as “oh that’s just angry johanna, she used to be such a crybaby but she sure fooled us, she’s so tough and feisty!” it’s all just a part of her shtick to them.

and even wiress, who has her peculiarities and is later broken further by the blood rain, is “useful” and invents in her spare time. hell, even haymitch manages it: sure, he tends to be very aggressive and grumpy, but that’s not what the audience sees. to them, he’s comedic. he’s the bumbling fool who arrives late to the reaping, yells some drunken stuff about how he likes the new tribute, messes with the escort, then falls off the stage. caesar even brings it up during katniss’s interview, and when the cameras pan to haymitch he goodnaturedly waves it away then turns the attention back to katniss

the only one we know of who can’t manage to reign in their symptoms in a way that the capitol can use to their advantage is annie. she’s also the only one aside from maybe wiress who we see really display the mental impacts in a way that is commonly thought of as “insane.” and i don’t think that has to be a problem, at least to fans.

[midnight-mourning]

Not Even a Mouse

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 21❄️❄️

alright, y'all have had it too good for too long, have some angst (with a bit of fluff, of course) to balance it all out, hope you enjoy!

Prompt: If you don't fill all the spots,,, I'm gonna make a second request! Idk if you're doing any angst for this one, but if you are,,, something about Sun being alone for Christmas. Maybe he finds out the employees and Glams are having a party without him. Idk i just wanna make him sad. xD Don't feel obligated to do this one! This is just an extra if you want :P

Word Count: 1700

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The Daycare has a cold atmosphere to it, being so empty as it is. The music plays as always, tune just as cheery as ever, without a single listener. Save for one. 

Every toy is in its place, all the crafts supplies are put away. There's not a thing that isn't perfectly organized within the entire space. It's already been cleaned, one, twice, and now thrice, so there's not even a singular speck of dust. 

It's spotless. And desolate. 

The children are gone, it is the holidays after all. They wouldn't be back for another day or so. In the meantime, the attendant can only twiddle his thumbs and try not to go stir crazy in the meantime. 

There's others in the Plex of course, the other bots and some employees. But they, well. They aren't exactly friendly, when it came to either side of the Daycare Attendant. 

They were never exactly sure as to why. 

Both had tried to reach out, interact, engage, on multiple occasions. Each attempt being met with either unease, wobbly kindness, or downright hostility in some cases. It got to the point where both simply just, gave up. 

It was better to not try, they realized, it made things easier to keep to themselves and not bother anyone else. At least, Moon had learned this. It was arguably easier for him, given his status as naptime attendant. Isolation wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. 

But it was for Sun. 

While Moon was fine with the quiet, Sun was borderline inconsolable. 

And that was before he had found out about the holiday party. 

It had been a complete accident. Just so happening to be walking by on his way to gather clean stuffed animals from the laundry room. Two random employees chatting without a care in the world.

"Yeah, there's even a white elephant, come on, you gotta come!"

"I wasn't gonna miss it. Are the Glamrocks participating? I feel like it'd be funny to see what they come up with as gifts."

"I think so, yeah. It's gonna be..." They notice the Daycare Attendant, voice lowering. "—Great."

The other employee gives a confused look, then turns slightly to see the bot, eyes wide.

Not wanting to make things worse Sun simply nods in greeting, and goes on his way. 

Now, sitting alone in their room, scattered papers and old crayons surrounding him, he wishes he had said something. Wishes he had spoken up, argued, criticized, cried. Anything. 

Instead, he didn't. He just stood there and took it. 

The playtime attendant can picture it, dozens of employees and the other bots crowded together somewhere, probably the dance floor. Laughing, chatting, just enjoying the company of friends and coworkers. There's probably decorations everyone, to the nines even, based on how many boxes Moon saw people carrying around earlier that week. 

Holiday music and snacks, and of course, the gift exchange. Competing for the best gift, and having a wonderful time doing it.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they were so hated. That he was so disliked. What had he done to deserve this kind of treatment? This kind of hurt?

The Glamrocks were good enough, so why wasn't he—

There's a muted snap, causing the bot to jump and glance down to his hand. 

Another broken crayon to add to the collection. 

With a scoff he tosses it away, towards the wall not too far in front of him. It wasn't a hard throw, but apparently it was enough. 

The sound of fluttering paper can be heard as a single page falls to the ground. It piques Sun's interest, and he shifts to take a closer look. 

It's a drawing of him, one done in pencil, maybe charcoal—he'd never thought to ask—as opposed to the usual paint and crayons the kids utilized. 

Though that would be because a child didn't make it for him. You did. 

At least, he's 99% sure. You'd scurried off before he could ask. 

You worked in the gift shop, passing by the Daycare every day for work. And every day, either one of the attendants would catch you staring as you walked by the large windows. Ducking your head and rushing off whenever you got caught. 

You'd only spoken to them a handful of times, when you happened to come in to speak to the security guard about something. Sun was never quite sure why you needed the guard so much, but he didn't think to question it either. 

Your voice was always very soft, mumbling. If he didn't have such well-adjusted noise sensors he'd probably not be able to hear you. He didn't know why you were so quiet, you had a lovely voice. 

He wished you say more, on your visits. Your words always stuttered and brief. But he cherished those moments. Every little interaction was saved in several locations in his hard drive just to make sure he didn't lose them. You were probably the only person who would bother talking to him or Moon. That was precious. 

He picks up the drawing, admiring the detail you'd put into it. For something of this quality, he didn't know why you were working in the gift shop. Maybe you were doing something else, like college, and this was a temporary situation for you in the long run. 

He remembers when you gave it to him, he'd at least gotten a direct interaction, you'd slipped Moon's under the door one night before going home. 

He believes it's because of your encounter that you just ran away the second time, and he can't say he blames you. 

You'd been nice enough to knock, having been the very end of the day, the last child having been picked up just a few minutes prior. 

When he opens the door, you're looking to the ground, clutching the paper in your hands tightly. 

Surprised, but happy to see you, he speaks first. "Hello there, friend! It's good to see you!" 

"U-um, hi...." You say, still looking down. "Good, good to see you too."

You're nervous for some reason, though you're always nervous he realizes. 

He wants to fix it. He tries with a joke. "Well, you can't see me very well from there can you?"

It doesn't land. You flinch, but look up. "S-Sorry."

Stupid. Stupid. Fix it.

"Oh! Not a worry at all, Sunbeam. I just wanted to see you're smiling face." His rays spin. 

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

"Of course! A lovely smile on a face like yours just makes my day!" Surely that'll do it, let you know he's being sincere.

Your internal temperature rises, fluctuating around your cheeks and ears. Now he's gone and made you mad. Great, this is going so great, he's blowing it—

You shove the paper into his hands. "This is for you. I-I, I have to go now. Buh-bye!"

Before he can say another word you're gone, running back towards the main entrance, leaving him with an amazing drawing, and not so amazing thoughts. 

You hadn't come back into the daycare since then, which could only mean that you hated him now too. Sun rubs his thumb over your signature on the page, at least he still had this. 

The sound of laughter growing closer interrupts his thoughts. And, curiosity getting the better of him, he goes to take a look. 

Peeking out the curtains, he can see a group of employees walking by. You're among them, smiling and chatting all the while. 

Just outside the Daycare you stop, waving to the group. 

"I think I forgot my jacket in the gift shop, I'll see you guys later! Happy holidays!" 

They bid you farewell, and Sun's planning to shut the curtain again, not wanting to be weird and watch you go about your business, when he picks up on your odd behavior. 

You watch your friends leave and then glance around a few times. Then, you pull out two small, wrapped gifts and walk over to the Daycare doors. After a moment he hears a knock. 

His rays spin, and he acts before he thinks. He dives into the ball pit and as soon as he makes contact is immediately scrambling out of it and heading for the door. He takes a moment to collect himself, then opens it. 

To his shock, you speak first. "Hi Sunny! It's good to see you. I, I wasn't sure you'd be around. I um, having something for you! And, and Moon." You hold up the gifts. 

Sun short circuits. 

You got him a gift. 

You.

The person he thought hated him like all the rest. 

You thought of him, were actively thinking of him. 

And you called him Sunny.

"If, if that's okay. Sorry if I'm bothering you. I just, I really wanted to get these to you tonight. I, I thought you were going to be at the party, I was um, kinda sad you weren't. But I totally get it if parties aren't your thing! They're... not really mine either but um, god I'm rambling here I'm sorry." You look up to him then, concern in your gaze. "Are, are you okay?"

It occurs to the playtime attendant that his fans are roaring now. He has to get you to stop before he overheats. Time to play his role. 

"Ah! I'm alright friend! I'm happy to see you too! And I appreciate the thought, truly." He takes your hand, and without thinking, raises it to his smile for a kiss. "It means a lot. Would, would you like to come inside for a moment?"

Now you're frozen, temperature climbing in a matter of seconds. 

"I would really like that."

His rays spin out of his control. "Great. Great! Please,"—he stands straight, waving his other hand behind him—"Come on in."

You keep your hand in his, squeezing gently. "O-okay."

As the door closes behind the two of you, Sun decides that he doesn't really care if missed the holiday party or not. He doesn't really care if everyone hates him and Moon either. 

If he can have just this moment to share with you, and maybe more. Maybe even becoming friends?

That's enough.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you @zenkaiankoku for the request! Enjoyed having a bit of angst to write hehe, still made it a little fluffy in spots but I think it still works ^-^

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a

[lightlycareless]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNL3PDf8/

I saw this and it made me think of Naoya. I’m not sure which kid this would be but this feels so much like Naoya in how sassy and done the dad seems about the situation. He also does seem like the type to climb into the backseat on the road to see what his daughter is saying XD idk I love seeing videos of dads with their kids and imagining it with Naoya

Awww, I love this so much!!

I already envisioned Naomi as a chirpy baby, always talking to her mama or papa, so this was just perfect!!!

warnings: fluff. Naoya and you are parents to an adorable baby girl named Naomi❤️ Also this is not exactly the same as what happened in the video, it actually inspired me to write something somewhat different, still related, but not identical... if that's ok 🥺 I still hope you enjoy it though!!

Happy reading!

To me this sounds like it would happen a road trip, or anywhere where the two have to drive to their destination and grow quite unsure if Naomi will be able to handle such a thing.

But of course, she does! Kind of, Naomi is always one to entertain herself thanks to her wit and curiosity, either creating complex storylines involving her plushies, or sharing whatever crossed her mind with her parents—regardless of if they were fluent in babbling or not.

“—jump! Kitty jump!”

“Is that so, dumpling?” Naoya smiles, always enjoying listening to the voice of her adorable daughter. “And what else did she do?”

“Fly—no, sleep! Kitty tired…”

It was always endearing to see how the two interacted, like they had an unbreakable father-daughter bond you could only dream of having! Still, you weren’t jealous—no, of course not. If anything, you were simply happy they got along perfectly, God knows how guilty Naoya felt for his prolonged absences, so to see them so close… it made your heart soar with happiness.

Until Naomi eventually grows tired of being in the same sitting position for hours, and demands to be attended, which Naoya naturally jumps to do so.

“Papaaaa!!!”

“What is it, pumpkin? Is everything ok?!” Your husband naturally frets.

“Tired papa, hungry!!”

“Oh, I know what to do.” You say, reaching over for your bag to give Naomi one of her many pre-prepared meals—but she doesn’t want it, neither the milk nor the fruit; and that’s when both knew a break was due.

“Now, now—isn’t that better, princess?” Soon after finding a place to pull over, he cooed at her while gently holding her against him, watching her eat as Naomi glanced back at him, with those bright round eyes that let him know she was satisfied to be away from that uncomfortable seat and instead in the arms of her beloved papa.

“We should stretch our legs for a bit before continuing.” You suggest, to which Naoya enthusiastically agrees to—he had driven to a near lookout with the hopes of distracting Naomi (though it was more like rushing to find one, he wasn’t to stop in the middle of the road and expose his family!) and get a few more pictures of her; mementos to reminisce his loved ones while away for work.

“Look over here, little mochi!” you sang, waving your hand at Naomi to catch her attention and get her into the right position: a lovely picture of her and her papa standing before the beautiful scenery of the Japanese countryside.

“Alright, I think it’s time we head back on the road if we still want to be on time.” Naoya says, wanting to take advantage of the sunlight as well as Naomi’s now calm demeanor, believing it wouldn’t take long for her to fall asleep, lulled into deep slumber after being tired out…

Or at least that’s what either hoped, for Naomi, upon seeing her parents approach the car, quickly understood that she’d be relegated back to that awful seat, far away from dear papa and all the attention he was giving her—no can do!

“No!” Naomi cried, shaking her head. “No, papa!!”

“What’s wrong, Naomi??” Naoya, as usual, worries. “Are you still hungry? Or do you want to stay here a little longer—”

“Papa no go! Stay!’

“Oh, you don’t want me to go?” He asks, flattered by her request. Though concerned, because if he were to stay with his little princess, then who…?

“It’s ok, I’ll drive.” You suggest, taking the keys from his hands. “Go sit back with Naomi, our mochi needs you.”

“Are you sure, my love? We still have much to traverse.”

“I’ll be fine.” You encourage with a smile. “Now go, sit with her. I’m sure the two of you will have much to talk about!”

And that, they did, for Naomi wasted no time to jump back on whatever playful scenario she left pending, now with the addition of her equally imaginative father (no surprise where Naomi got it from) who made her playtime even more exciting.

“And then, the great Toji-kun appeared, defeating all enemies around them and rescuing Kitty!” Naoya effused, playing with one of her plushies—a stern-looking penguin that somehow reminded him of his cousin.

Naomi giggles, liking the addition of this so-called amazing Toji-kun into her games, alongside noticing the fondness her father seemed to have for this character for he’d always bring him along one way or the other, regardless of what they were playing—

Never comparable to her adorable Hello Kitty, of course, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Not when she was having so much fun!

And so, your chirpy daughter and doting husband continued to entertain one another, making the ride to your first destination quite enjoyable—it kind of made you sad having to interrupt them just to ask Naoya a question regarding your hosting reservation, but since they quieted down a bit this might be the best moment yet—

“Honey, at what time do we check-in?”

Only to realize their silence hadn’t come from observing the scenery around, but rather, succumbing to their own exhaustion, Naoya’s head rested over Naomi’s seat while her hand tightly heled onto his, for even when asleep she didn’t want to be far from him.

You smile at the sight of them, giving them one last glance through the rearview mirror before continuing looking ahead, hoping that by the time you arrive you’d still be able to snap a picture of them.

Until then, you look forward to spending the weekend with them, on what was Naomi’s first holiday as a family.

Been wanting to write about Naoya, Y/N, and Naomi spending a holiday together ajkghkajgha I don't know what exactly, but you know, I'll figure out something :)))) (suggestions are greatly appreciated too hehe)

Thank you so much for feeding my domestic au. We just love a doting Naoya, don't we :') 🥹❤️ if only... Well, that's why I'm here for 🤭 still have more to come!!

Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!

[starsstuddedsky]

Tangled in Love

vernon x reader

summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au

warnings: none!

wc: 3.8k

a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol

tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol

Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much. 

He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt. 

“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you. 

“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily. 

“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway. 

“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say. 

“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him. 

You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything. 

So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted. 

That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings. 

“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him. 

“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.” 

“And why am I here?” 

“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly. 

“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?” 

“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you. 

You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.” 

“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours. 

“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one. 

“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.” 

“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road. 

“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.” 

“What is wrong with my taste in music?” 

“No comment.” 

“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine. 

“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.” 

You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe. 

When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way. 

You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up. 

“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you. 

He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap. 

The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway. 

Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy. 

After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child. 

Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make. 

“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door. 

“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child. 

You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child. 

“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.” 

You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?” 

The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts. 

“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you. 

You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go. 

He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time. 

“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten. 

“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.” 

Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you. 

“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper. 

“I have self-control.” 

“Wanna bet?” 

Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are. 

You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile. 

“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying? 

He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second. 

“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.” 

“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck. 

The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?” 

“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles. 

You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness. 

“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head. 

“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible. 

“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.” 

You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.

Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again. 

Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst. 

You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most. 

When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?” 

He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?” 

“Why did you let her think we are a couple?” 

One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart. 

Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.” 

“Of what?” 

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.” 

Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?” 

“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”

“Vernon.” 

He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes. 

“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.” 

You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move? 

Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.” 

“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know. 

“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.” 

Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?” 

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say. 

Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?” 

“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”

“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.” 

You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory. 

His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real. 

A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing. 

“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet. 

“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again. 

Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it. 

It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile. 

Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?” 

“Always.” 

The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it. 

“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say. 

His laughter bounces you. “No way.” 

“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.” 

“I'll stay strong.” 

“What if I want a kitten?” 

Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.” 

“Sucker.” 

“Only for you.” 

thank you for reading <3

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Deep, Deep Down (Broadchurch One-Shot)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Your menstrual cycle was always the worst, but Alec does his best to make it better.

CW: reader is gn but has periods (rip- readers just like me fr), tooth-rotting fluff, comfort, idk what else to tag this

Broadchurch Tag List: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Deep, deep down inside you’re aware that everyone’s experience is relative to their own situation and tolerance. You know this, but you’re also not entirely sure that anyone else could possibly have a period this bad.

They’re always like this. Agonising, debilitating, and very, very heavy. Alec was quite concerned when he witnessed his first one of yours. He was fawning over you and itching for his keys to take you to the doctor at any given second. It had taken a fair amount of convincing to get him to stand down. This was your normal. You’d gotten used to it (sort of) and now so would he. 

So month in and month out you spent at least one week a month curled up in a blanket fort cradling a heat pack like it was the only thing holding you back from death. Not even a hot chocolate made you feel better on your worst days. Not even the fancy ones with the whipped cream and the marshmallows. It was truly a cause for concern. 

Alec had started keeping mental track of your periods. Not on purpose, but it was hard not to notice when you basically stopped being able to function like a regular person for a minimum of a week per month. 

Alec knew your cycle was due to start any day, and he’d been trying to think of something to do for you to help you through it for at least three days. There was the standard, of course- the flowers, the chocolates, the hot water bottles- but he wanted something else. Something special. But what? 

Alec had thought about it for a little while before it came to him.

 

He prepared as many of your favourite things as possible. Your favourite snacks, flowers, plushies, blankets, foods. He’d even gone to the effort of grabbing all of your favourite restaurant meals and portioning them up for you so all you had to do when you got hungry was pop them in the microwave and start snacking. 

When you’d deemed yourself well enough to emerge from the bedroom and flop down in the lounge room, you’d almost cried at the sight that met you there. 

Soft blankets ready and waiting to cuddle into. A couple of your favourite plushies to keep you company. A little wicker basket of your favourite snacks. He’d even brought home Indian food for your lunch. The lights were dimmed and your string lights across the top of the TV cabinet were on and flickering softly. 

“I- erm, I’ve got t’go back to work, love,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. He was genuinely apologetic, you could see. And you chewed back the grateful tears. “But this should keep you goin’ till I get home, yes?” 

You looked around at the piles of things. He’d even teed up your favourite comfort film. Wow, maybe it wasn’t all men. 

“Y-yeah, Alec- I- this is amazing,” you breathed, rubbing at your tummy softly. 

Alec clocked the movement and turned around to pass you a bottle of water and some painkillers. Behind him, there was a hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream. Right next to the remote. You were a little in shock, to be completely honest. 

“Here, take these. Erm- once I get back, I’ll run you a bath an’ we can watch a movie or cuddle or something,” his cheeks flushed the palest shade of pink. You nodded, taking the pills and swallowing them down. “Whatever y’want. I want that water done, though,” he said pointedly. “Keep y’fluids up, y’ken?” 

You sighed and took an extra large sip just to appease him.

 

“Yessir,” you said cheekily, followed by a much softer, “thank you, Alec. Really. This is one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.” 

“Low bar,” was all he replied. You reached out for him and pressed a loving kiss to his lips. Alec hesitated to pull away, and you chuckled sadly. 

“Go on, now. Off to solve some crimes, hey?” 

“Tha’s me. Alrigh’, take care, love, yeah?” 

You plop down onto the couch, pulling a blanket close.  “Always, sir.”

[dreamydrifts]

hear me out, a one shot of Charles x Reader based on Casual by Chappell Roan.

I personally having been listening to Casual on repeat for the pass couple days and I am in the mood to cry and be upset, idk why but I feel like this song is very charles coded, maybe that’s just me, but yeah that’s my idea!

-🦥

note 💌: anon you made me obsessed with this song, ever since you wrote this request, i started listening to it. i literally cried while making this, so i hope this feeds your delulu soul and heart, and yes the song is so charles coded🫶🏻

--------------------------------------------------------------

romeo, come and save me: charles leclerc

| pairing: charles leclerc x reader

| genre: boyfriend!charles, girlfriend!reader

| warnings: angst, smut (a bit), minors dni

| word count: 1.3k

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

Living in Monaco could be considered everyones dream, and it surely was yours. Every weekend, one of the drivers would host a part at their house, or in the biggest clubs in the country. That's where you found yourself talking to several of them and even hooking up.

Tonight you were in Charles Leclercs bed, with the pretext of "no attachments". You were moaning out his name as he was eating you out like there was no tomorrow. Gripping his hair as he continued to lick and suck. You knew he was bad for you, but the moment your lips touched, it's like everything you knew was forgotten.

The weekend after, he was eating you out in the backseat of his car, not even waiting to arrive home with you. You liked it, you couldn't lie, but you hoped that this time it wasn't just to help him leave the stress out before the race. He was like a drug and you were addicted to him. He was angry, you would help. He was happy, you would be there. But if someone asked what the two of you were, his answer would always be "We're just friends"

Sooner than you expected, you found yourself being in a relationship with him, but to say the least it didn't meet your expectations. Charles was distant and when he was there you barely talked. Now you were getting ready to have dinner with his parents. Finishing doing your hair, you walked into the living room to find him.

"Charles, do you really want me to go?" You asked seeing that he didn't even bother to look at you. He got up, kissing you without even looking at you. He kissed you, thinking that it would fix everything.

"I think it's better that we don't go..." You sight, pulling away, looking at him not feeling in the mood to lie to his parents about your relationship.

Charles sighed, he didn’t know what to do, he loved you. He just didn’t want to admit it. He looked at you, his eyes filled with emotion. Seeing that you didn’t want to lie he agreed. "It’s best we don’t go." He replied walking back to the sofa, picking up his phone and getting distracted by a text message from a girl.

The moment he looked at his phone, you knew that he was talking to another girl. Your best friend warned you about him, but you didn't listen, hoping that you can change him. You decided to go back to your room, not wanting to be in his presence longer than needed. Since the two of you decided not to go to his parents house, now you had to take your make up off which you have been working on for hours. Not only, he was talking to someone else while he was dating you, but he seemed happier.

He noticed that you were heading to the room, after a little debate with himself, he followed you, hoping you didn't know about the text message. "Where are you going?" He asked stopping you from going in.

"Home." You said looking away not wanting to meet his gaze. "I'm going home."

Feeling that this was about to be a discussion, he grabbed your wrist with one hand not letting you go. "No you’re not" He said his voice sounding firm almost angry but his eyes had a sense of hurt and sadness in them.

"Yes i am, i can't do this...anymore." You said sitting down on the couch. "I can't..." You keep looking away, trying to keep yourself from crying. "We act like we are strangers and then pretend to be in love for a minute...it's killing me..." Finally you let a tear escape your eyes.

He listened, his grip got tighter when he heard you wanting to go and when you started crying he pulled you into his arms hugging you tight. "You’re not going anywhere." He said, his tone now a bit kinder but a lot more protective as he brushed your hair from your face.

"Yes i am...we've been fucked up for a long time...this has to stop." You looked at him with a face full of tears, which was getting redder and redder. "All we do is lie..."

Even though he disagreed with you, he knew that it was the truth, but that didn’t mean he wanted to lose you. "No." He said shaking his head, still holding you tightly. He didn’t want to lose you at all. Even though you both were lying to each other he still felt as if you were the main purpose in his life. It was a selfish thought but he couldn’t help it.

"Yes..." You said looking at him and then away to wipe your tears. "We aren't even that close anymore..."

Charles stayed silent, he couldn’t handle the truth. All the times he avoided you, all the times he talked to another girl, all the times he lied all came crashing down on him and he wished he had done things differently. "We can fix everything." He said still holding you, not wanting to lose you, not wanting the person he loved to leave him. "I’ll be better I promise.."

"I know about her..." You said reffering to the girl he has been seeing and talking to for the past few weeks.

He froze, he felt a pang of guilt hit his chest. He didn’t expect you to know about her. After a few seconds he spoke not looking at you. "She was just a distraction.. she means nothing, I just wanted to forget things."

"Forgetting about us?...about me?" You looked away, not being prepared to face the truth. "Sure, she does...that's why you smile at her texts...are happy...unlike with me...when you act like i'm a ghost..."

He stayed silent, he didn’t want to answer that. He knew that when you talked about how he acted with the other girl that it was the truth. He knew that he acted different and happy with the other girl, unlike you. His gaze dropped to the floor. He was scared of losing you. "I’m sorry it will stop, I’ll stop" He said, trying to make it seem as if he really meant that, as if you could believe him.

"No, this has to stop..." You said showing to you and him, getting up finally ready to go to the room that the two of you share. One last time you wipe your tears, finally going upstairs.

He looked at you with sadness, he didn’t want you to go, but knew that he really messed things up a long time ago. He should have given his all to you, treated you better and been a better boyfriend. He tried one last time to get you to stay. "Please, stay."He said, trying his hardest to keep his emotions in check.

"Don't do this to me..." You said putting the clothes in the lagguage, wiping away your tears.

He sighed, he knew he didn’t have any other card to play. The moment you grabbed your things he knew that he really lost you, this time no excuses, no lies, no tricks, nothing could make you stay and he should have realized that sooner. "Fine, just tell me one thing." He said looking at you with sad eyes.

"What?" You looked at him with the lagguage in your hand, coming closer to him to hear him better.

He gulped, he hoped he was wrong but he had to ask the question. He didn’t want to but he just had to know. "Do.. do you still love me?" He asked, he didn't expect you to answer it honestly but he couldn't resist to ask the question. He knew that he was putting himself in a vulnerable position by asking such a bold question. He bit his lip out of nervousness.

"I never stopped." You whispered looking at the ground.

© DREAMYDRIFTS — do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Twelve)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, Arkham Knight, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief, violence, panic attacks, PTSD, brief talking about rape (reader recalls a time she helped Catwoman kill a rapist)

Part Twelve: Prince of Gotham

You’d fallen asleep rather peacefully. If only the dream you found yourself in was equally as peaceful. You were back in the abandoned wing of Arkham, holding Jason.

“Please…I’m not ready to die,” he cried. The bloody “J” engraved on his face was wet with tears.

“I’m sorry,” you cried.

“Please Y/N, please help me,” he cried. You closed your eyes and rocked back and forth as he died in your arms. You opened them and were faced with his lifeless corpse. You screamed in horror.

Dick shakes you awake as he says, “Y/N! Y/N!” You begin hyperventilating. “Hey it’s okay, it’s okay,” he says as he sits with you. You calm down but he still wears a grave look.

“What is it?” You ask.

“The notes, Chicago police found new Joker notes here,” he says.

“Shit,” you say as you jump out of bed.

“There’s something else,” he says.

“What?” You ask.

“The note was signed by Joker…and Poison Ivy,” he says. Your face goes pale with shock.

“I thought she was locked up,” you say.

“She got out,” he says. You close your eyes trying not to cry.

“Right so what’s the plan then?” You ask in a defeated tone.

“We’re gonna go back to Gotham, to stay at the manor. At least there we can all work together,” he says.

“Okay,” you say meekly. You then notice Dick is fully dressed; not in pajamas. You throw on Jason’s leather jacket and grab your bag. He and you then get in his silver Porsche and head back to Gotham City.

When you get to the manor it’s like a living nightmare. Thea and Roy had to go back to Star city to help Oliver deal with Damien Dark. So it was just the titans, Donna, Bruce and Alfred; and they were all in mission mode. You all gathered in the batcave to discuss the note. It said, “even though the bird is dead, there will be more dread, once the kitten is taken, bonds will be broken, know that I’m not joking.”

“Doesn’t Poison Ivy hate the Joker?” Donna says.

“She does,” a voice you don’t recognize says. Out from the shadows of the batcave comes a short slim woman wearing leather pants and a form fitting leather coat. It’s Selina Kyle, Catwoman.

“Selina?” Bruce says surprised. “How did you-“ he begins to say.

“Relax honey, I come in peace,” she says calmly. “I’m just delivering a little message for Ivy; she wanted me to drop by and say she had nothing to do with Jokers little note.”

“Why would we believe her,” you say.

“Believe what you want Y/N, just remember she’s not the one who put Jason in the ground,” she says as she walks up the stairs.

“Right I’ll talk with her later for now focus on the note,” Bruce says. How you hated him ordering everyone around.

“When Y/N first started out the media thought she was Catwoman then they figured out she wasn’t so they called her “the mystery archer”,” Dick says.

“Original,” Gar says.

“So Y/N is the kitten in the note since the media sees her as a second Catwoman of sorts,” Kori says.

“Right and Jason is the Robin he’s talking about,” Donna says.

“Basically he’s gonna try to kidnap Y/N,” Rachel says. Your head feels fuzzy, you can’t listen anymore. You quietly slip out of the room, you were beginning to remember your talent for disappearing.

Upstairs you find Selina in the parlor.

“What are you really doing here?” You ask her.

“Maybe I’m just worried about my protege,” she says with a smirk.

“We went out once together years ago, you barely even taught me anything,” you say.

“Wrong, I taught you how to disappear. And if you’re smart you’ll go hide somewhere Joker won’t think to look. This stupid house can’t protect you and you know it; plus I can see it in your eyes that everyone’s driving you crazy,” she says.

“Why do you care Selina?” You ask.

“You know I’ve never been one to stick to one side, I work with Harley and Ivy but that doesn’t mean I agree with everything they do,” she says. “Plus replacement Robin actually got things done, he wasn’t afraid of a little blood; so I just came to give some friendly advice.”

“Thank you,” you say softly.

“I would say you can come to my place but I don’t think you want to risk a reunion with Ivy,” she says.

“Yeah I’m good,” you say. “I know a spot and sorry if when I go missing they think you kidnapped me.”

“Don’t worry about it, stay safe little cat,” she says. You and Selina had met a few times in the past. Once you helped her take down a couple of guys who raped one of her friends. And by take down, you mean you helped her hide the bodies. Batman never found out you did that, he wouldn’t approve. Dick and Thea don’t even know; only Jason knew. You aren’t ashamed of your part in their death, those guys had it coming. You just didn’t want Dick or Thea to see you differently. You didn’t exactly tell Jason, he found out back when he was Robin. You were worried he’d tell Bruce but he simply said if there’s ever a next time he’ll help you.

You quickly grabbed your bag and headed to the garage; not the one attached to the batcave, the one attached to Wayne manor. You’d been on Jason’s motorcycle many times and he taught you how to drive it. This wasn’t the exact one you learned to drive but it would have to do. You got on the bike and headed to your destination, Iceberg Lounge.

Two days since you left Wayne Manor.

The Iceberg Lounge: top floor consisting of partying the violence and pain of living in Gotham away and the basement consisting of the minds that create all the violence and pain in Gotham discussing their next move. You heard the club was under new management and Penguin was missing. You figured the last place Joker would look for you is at the most infamous nightclub in Gotham; and if all else failed you could always just blend into the crowd. You changed in a near by alley, your outfit now consisting of a black mini skirt and lace black strapless top. With the set you wore your fighting boots in case you needed to make a quick get away. You stashed your bag in a vent and then let the crowd swallow you.

The blaring techno music made your head pound. You’d been to the Iceberg before many times with Thea; dispite Oliver’s warnings and pleas for you two to stay away from Penguin’s territory. Looking around the room you saw people dancing in pure bliss. Some were high on snakebite; others high on the music. You knew in your heart no drug or song could mend the wound Jason’s loss has created in your heart. Regardless of your acknowledgement that nothing could take the pain away, you dance.

The music is so loud you can feel the waves of vibration floating through your body. You feel a faint vibration from your boot pocket. You quickly check and it’s Dick calling you, you ignore it. He’s called you about one hundred times the past few days and so have Rachel, Thea, Kori and Gar. After you stand all the way back up you notice someone watching you from the balcony above the dance floor. He’s wearing a suit and a red mask covers half his face. His eyes are hidden behind tinted red lenses, he’s unrecognizable. Fear washes over you at the thought he could be one of Jokers guys. You dance further into the club to better use the crowd as coverage. You had never been this deep in the club before but you’d heard some pretty fucked up things were known to happen. People overdosing on snakebite, people going missing, deals happening; the iceberg had all the crime in Gotham packed into one nightclub.

You’d officially lost track of time, you weren’t sure how long you’d been relying on the people dancing around you to hold your tired body up. You knew as soon as you left the crowd you’d drop. You climbed the stairs to the balcony that wrapped around the inside of the club. Your boots banged against the metal floor as you walked past people doing snakebite and making out. You leaned against the wall and sank to the floor.

You passed out but were only asleep for a few minutes. You felt someone’s cold hand shaking your arm trying to wake you. You opened your eyes and saw the man with the red mask. He pulls you off the ground, you’re so out of it you barely register what’s going on. You try to throw yourself away from him but you fail.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” the robotic voice says.

“I’m supposed to believe that,” you say out of breath. You pass out and he gently catches you.

When you wake up you’re in Penguins old office. You take note of the fact that you’re not restrained, a good sign.

“Who the fuck are you?” You say coughing. He doesn’t answer, he simply opens a bottle of water and hands it to you. “I have a boyfriend by the way, I’ll stab your fucking eyes out if you try anything,” you say.

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?” the man asks.

You are quiet for a moment, not out of hesitation, out of sadness. “Jason,” you say. You become more awake. The lighting in here is better than the actual club and you notice a white streak in the man’s hair. You mentally go through every criminal, anti-hero and hero you’ve met but you still don’t know who he is. “Why are you helping me?” You ask him. He says nothing. “Why were you watching me?” You ask.

“You should be more careful, this place is dangerous,” he says.

“I can take care of myself,” you say.

“So where is your boyfriend anyway?” He asks.

You don’t know what to say, the answer of course is that Jason is dead but you know you shouldn’t be truthful. “He’s on his way to pick me up,” you say as you start walking towards the door. He grabs your arm, not harshly just enough so you stop walking away. Standing so close to him you swear he’s familiar. He simply stares at you for a moment. You wish you could see his eyes then maybe you could tell who he is. He lets you go and you hurry away back into the crowd.

Hey, I hope you enjoyed the fic if you did please like. If you want to keep up to date with the series please follow me. Any positive feedback is much appreciated, it encourages me to keep writing and posting parts. I have a lot more ideas to develop the Redhood plot and then also I have another fic idea that would be a prequel to this (it will be how reader meets Jason and Dick and becomes a titan). Then I also have another idea for a reader x Jason story which would be separate from this one. If any of that sounds interesting please check out my Masterlist and follow me🩷

Here’s a link to my Masterlist if you want to check it out.

Masterlist

[babydollmarauders]

Baby au does she ever go through that clingy stage where all she wants is jack and nobody else can hold her?

omg okay idk if this was supposed to be a blurb or just a general question, so i’ll answer it both ways! she DEFINITELY does! el is such a daddy’s girl and y/n 100% blames it on how stingy jack is with her. but there was a good 6 month period where she literally didn’t want anything to do with anyone other than jack. which made it rough on poor y/n because when jack was on roadies or at practice or a game, el would be SO fussy.

———

Jack and i were on the couch, him horizontally, his back against the arm of the couch and his legs sprawled out along the cushions with me laying between them, my back against his chest. a movie plays on the tv but neither of us pay attention, rather doing our own things in our phones instead. he scrolls through instagram, liking his teammates and friends posts while i scroll through tiktok.

my daily tiktok break is interrupted by the sound of El crying from her crib, having awoken from her nap.

“i’ll get her.” i heave out a sigh, rolling myself over Jack’s leg and off the couch before standing up. Jack just nods, his eyes never leaving his phone, and i make my way over to my 11 month old’s room.

“hey sweetheart. mommy’s got you. mommy’s here.” i coo as i walk in. she stands in her crib, whining with tears welling in her eyes, but she shakes her head when i come closer.

“dada!” she screams as i scoop up under her armpits. i heave a deep exhale, very tired of this phase.

for the past two months, the only person El has wanted is Jack.

i pick her up? “dada!”

Luke picks her up? “dada!”

she’s mad if i’m feeding her instead of Jack. she cries when he’s not in her sight. he must be the one to get her when she wakes up in the middle of the night, in the morning, or from nap.

it’s made it incredibly hard for me since he’s not always here.

“dada!” i startle at the volume of her voice in my ear, fast-walking back to the living room. i stop at the edge of the couch, El’s whines still blaring in my ear.

Jack doesn’t seem phased, just holding an arm out so i can place her on his chest.

“take your shadow.” i grumble, laying her on his chest. she immediately quiets, putting her face in his face and smiling. “i think she ruptured my ear drum.”

Jack chuckles, shutting his phone off and setting it on the couch beside him. He grins at our daughter, picking her up by the hips and hovering her over his face.

“hey, El-Bell! you giving mama a hard time?” he coos, making her giggle.

“dada!” her tiny hands smack his cheeks, squishing and pulling at them.

“yeah? you just wanted daddy, huh?” he asks before smooching her cheeks repeatedly.

“yeah, that’s because, when you’re home, you never let her leave your sight.” i sigh, dropping on the couch by his feet.

“can you blame me? she’s my world. i hate leaving her.”

“nice to see where i rank.” i joke, making him chuckle.

“you’ll always be my love, my wife. but sorry, she’s stolen your previous number one spot in my heart.” he tells me. “not by much, you’re actually pretty tied, but i’m just saying if our apartment burned down, i would go for El first.”

“that’s okay, i wouldn’t expect any less.” i pat his foot, smiling at the sight before me. El sits in between his legs like i did mere minutes ago, playing with his hands. “besides, Luke would save me. at least i’m number one in his heart.”

“of course you are.” Jack tells me. “you baby him.”

“i do not!” i mock offense, holding a hand to my heart.

“LUKE!” he yells out.

“WHAT?” Luke calls back from his room.

“WHAT DID Y/N MAKE YOU FOR LUNCH YESTERDAY?” Jack asks.

“GRILLED CHEESE AND TOMATO SOUP AND A GRILLED CHICKEN BREAST!” Luke replies. Jack levels me with a stare.

“and i’ll bet you cut the crust off for him too.” he raises an eyebrow in questioning and my cheeks flush slightly.

“i plead the fifth.”

[mumms-the-word]

I think that we can also see how Mythal changed Flemeth. Like looking at Morrigan and Flemeth - (forgive me if I'm wrong, but from what I remember of the games...) Flemeth was so obsessed in turning her daughter into a perfect receptacle for Mythal. Like Morrigan makes no mention of passing this on to her own kid/anyone else from what I remember. Morrigan comes to understand the burden but maybe Flemeth didn't have a choice and someone groomed her into accepting Mythal like she tried Morrigan.

Idk just thoughts but please expand on yours!

Ooohhh buddy do I have thoughts, and I should probably collect them a singular post or something but for now I’ll say that while, yes, Flemeth raised Morrigan to be the next vessel for Mythal (and yes we know she was abusive and weird about it), we also know that Flemeth herself says “a soul is not forced upon the unwilling” in DAI

And I think about that a lot

Morrigan fears very little in this world except for two things: losing her son and losing her autonomy (and since having a son is conditional, her fear of losing autonomy or her identity is her core fear)

When the memories of Flemythal come to her (as she explains in DATV) they explain everything in full and then give her a choice. She doesn’t have to receive Mythal, but if she does, she preserves a part of the old magic, the old lore, and has access to untold depths of knowledge. But she hesitates, because she doesn’t know if it will completely overwrite her and make her lose herself. And, she says, she realizes that doing so means that her mother, who has been quietly observing her, will never see her again. And she mourns that, you can hear the heartbreak in her voice

(I really need to do a deep dive in Morrigan’s dialogue in DATV about this because it is so rich and full of little hints about the complex relationship she and Flemeth have)

All that said! Just as Morrigan had a choice to accept or reject the memories of Mythal, Flemeth also had a choice. I’m talking the OG Flemeth, Flemeth who was once caught in a feud between her lovers/husbands centuries ago and who was betrayed by them. Flemeth who cried out for vengeance and the spirit of Mythal answered. Mythal didn’t just take over like a demon, they bonded because of their mutual desire for vengeance after betrayal. We know Flemeth became an abomination by accepting the spirit form of Mythal into her body, but also…if the spirit you are carrying in your body is one of the Evanuris…

Well it’s no surprise that it makes Flemeth a different kind of abomination than Anders, Wynne, or Lucanis.

Somewhere in that relationship Flemeth agrees to sustain her life in order to sustain Mythal’s. That’s why she has her daughters, and raises them to become powerful mages, and then takes over their bodies. But from the sound of it, it sounds like eventually every daughter gets the full story and a choice—accept the memories of Flemeth and Mythal and become the next Flemeth.

I guess the more interesting question is, is Morrigan’s mother THE Flemeth of centuries ago…or is she just the latest generation, someone who was given a different name at birth, like Morrigan was, but chose to keep and continue Flemeth’s name and think of herself as Flemeth? In other words, does she willingly give up her born identity to continue the name and legacy of Flemeth, as well as Mythal?

This is why I think Morrigan is a cycle-breaker even though she accepts Flemythal’s memories. If every other Flemeth in history chose to keep being Flemeth, while Morrigan chooses to remain Morrigan…she’s always been interested in the great changes of the world. This is another great change in the legacy of Flemeth and Mythal.

I joke that Morrigan becomes Flemorrithal but that’s not really true, at least not right now. She bears “many appellations” as she says, but she introduces herself as Morrigan for her preferred name. Maybe in one hundred years when everyone has died or forgotten her she’ll pick up the Flemeth title again, but for now…she’s still Morrigan. Just with extra memories.

But, ah, listen to me ramble. There’s so much to pick through when it comes to Flemeth/Mythal/Morrigan lore and their relationships with each other. It really is hard to sort my thoughts into anything that makes sense sometimes haha

[lowkeychenle]

Is It Over Now? [ZCL] fic teaser

Description: Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over?

A/N: this is inspired by Taylor Swift's Is It Over Now? and I highly recommend listening to it because omg...but also...y'all voted for Jisung and this is what it was for so...................he is for real a willing accomplice that's so crazy chenji who

Genre: Smut/Angst (there is no smut in the teaser, the teaser contains an argument that can be triggering for some readers. PLEASE!!! Read with caution)

Content Warnings: This is very dirty idk y'all i'msosorry...but basically content warnings are infidelity (both reader & chenle, explicit on reader's part), some very crazy arguments (there are no physical fights but these can be triggering), explicit, unprotected sex, overall just a big, big crazy cluster fuck where these two are just trying to hurt each otherimsosorry

Expected Word Count: 10k

Release Date: 5pm EST 2023.3.2

Taglist: Open!! Please let me know if you want to be tagged when this comes out <3

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader | Park Jisung x fem!Reader

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

Chenle downs the rest of whatever’s in his cup—it’s safe to assume what the bronze liquid is as he swallows and cringes. He doesn’t look at either of you.

“You should go.” Glancing at Jisung, you catch the worried gleam in his gaze.

“Will you be okay?” he asks.

“The fuck does that mean?” Chenle snaps. “Get the fuck out, Jisung.”

“Call me if you need me.” Jisung hesitantly leaves your side, and once the door closes behind him, you slide your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

“Really?” Chenle finally breaks the silence. “You could’ve picked anyone, and you fuck Jisung?”

“That’s what you’re mad about?” You snort and walk over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Untwisting the cap, you turn back to Chenle, unaccustomed to his glare being directed at you. “What? It’s okay for you to fuck anyone you want, but when I do it, it’s wrong?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t fuck anyone but you.”

“You really think I didn’t see that?” You shake your head, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “There were pictures, you dumbass. And now I can’t even act like I’m ignorant. I can’t act like you love me anymore, Chenle. Be serious right now.”

“Oh, right, because being seen with a girl has to mean I’m fucking her, yeah?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re just insecure, (Y/N), and I can’t fucking help you with that. Did you think fucking Jisung would make me want you more? May as well add crazy to the list, too.”

Under different circumstances, you know those words would kill you. They’d be like bullets fragmenting in your heart, but today? For some reason, everything shut off. You don’t want him anymore, and your irritation sparks at the base of your spine.

“You putting this on me is fucking hilarious.” Your voice is sharp, and you hope you return his bullets as knives.

“We’re fucked.” He pours more liquor into his glass, a scowl on his face as he downs it. “Are you kidding me? I make a mistake one time, and you go out of your way to screw my friend? Did you think you could hurt me or something?”

“Don’t know.” You shrug.

“The sooner you admit we were over long before I ever slept with anyone else, the easier it’ll be for both of us. You’re being a child by inviting Jisung over here.” His grip on the counter tightens.

And just like that, something inside you snaps.

“You did this, Chenle. You fucked up, you ruined everything, you are a piece of shit.” You jab your finger in his direction. “At least I had the decency not to get caught in public. You don’t even care at all. Not even a little bit. And it’s so fucking frustrating because I do everything for you.”

“Bullshit,” he says.

“Was it over when you brought that girl here? Was it? Because you cried and begged for me to stay. You said it was a mistake, and you’d never be able to love anyone the same way you love me. You really think it was over, Chenle? Then what the fuck are you still doing here?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You fucking did it again!” you yell, hands tugging at your hair. “You want me to be the bad guy so bad, but all of this is on you. The blame is on you. You’re the one that can’t keep it in your pants. What are you searching all these beds for, huh? You want something better than me?”

“Fuck,” he shouts, hand swiping across the counter.

Time slows as his palm comes in contact with his glass, as he sends it flying into the cabinet, as it shatters beneath his force. How fucking ironic you relate to it.

[borderlinereminders]

greetings! so i got into an disagreement(?) with a coworker last week. i made a comment that my coworker didn't like, it made her uncomfortable so she went to my manager. the manager told me i owe her an apology, but it was a... sensitive topic to say the least and i wasn't prepared for my manager to know about it. i spiraled bad that day, i was sobbing, etc. a couple days later i came into work and talked to my coworker to apologize, and she said that it's just that she (and everyone else as she put it) can't tell me anything without me spiraling and crying. she said that it's just really manipulative. that made me feel awful, so i took space in the breakroom and cried a whole lot. i did at least finish my shift that day but i really do feel awful about it. i guess my question is, how do i *not* manipulate people? i got diagnosed with bpd a few years ago, and i thought i was managing pretty okay but now symptoms are rearing their heads. i don't intend to cry, it just happens. is it my fault that people feel a type of way about it? i try to take space to avoid damaging other people but i guess it's not enough, idk, any advice would be appreciated, thank you <3

Hi anon,

There’s a major difference between someone who intentionally cries to get out of trouble or get attention versus crying because your feelings are overwhelming.

I think you need to be careful not to fall into what a lot of us with BPD fall into… and that’s we have unrealistic expectations of ourselves. We expect ourselves not to do things that people without BPD do. Like getting upset, or having a bad day. We expect ourselves to be more perfect than people without BPD. They’re allowed to have bad days, cry, or otherwise get upset. But we hold ourselves to unrealistic standards as to not “be BPD”.

I don’t know the situation, but I don’t think that was fair of your coworker. It’s on her to manage her feelings, and if she’s feeling a type of way because you’re having a very normal emotional response, that’s on her. Not you.

It would be different if you were trying to use crying to get your way, but you aren’t. Crying is normal. It happens. And I’m sorry you’ve been made to feel you’re wrong for having these reactions.

While she’s valid to be upset about a comment, you’re valid to be upset too. I don’t know what the comment was but I’d be upset because I’d feel “in trouble” and that would set off an anxiety attack for me. Maybe she did deserve an apology. I wasn’t there. I can’t say. But even if she did, I don’t think it was fair of her to call you manipulative for having your own feelings.

I do understand the importance of trying to get through work though. I sometimes use crisis skills to get through things like work so I can properly deal with my emotions later. In my pinned post, there’s a link to my FAQ with a link to DBT skills. The ones I recommend for getting through situations are tolerance skills. Just please remember these aren’t meant to bury your emotions. They’re meant to help you in the moment. Things like grounding techniques especially might be useful.

The other skills might be useful when you’re ready, too. Things like communication ones and ones and ones that might help with emotional regulation because while your feelings are valid, it might help prevent spiralling and being able to handle them in ways that are better for you.