#did i succeed?

[mutslutt]

wanna come on stronger

[aroseforyounme]

Part 2

Cw: child abuse-verbal/emotional and physical, depression, disassociation, self-esteem issues

notes: caleb x non mc!reader; unrequited love

Author’s note: Hi! I didn’t expect anyone was going to read this tbh! This chapter is heavy and deals with a lot of the content warnings above. I do not go into significant detail but they are there and prevalent. This first part especially is a bit rough. Please take care of yourself and if you click out, then no worries! Thank you for reading with me so far 🙂

Part 1

Here you go: @athyend, @calebsnumberoneapple, @reni502, @justpassingdontworry, @mcdepressed290, @gojosbedwarmer, @cassiesversion Thank you for reading :)

Your mother told you not to fall in love. The few times she was home and the even fewer times she deemed it necessary to grace you with her presence, she’d sit you down in front of your home’s overly ornate fireplace, and tell you that singular line. She was only ever gentle then, her hands carefully rising from her lap to cup your cheeks. She was silent in those moments-her eyes glazed over as though she was staring into a reflection of herself from years ago.

“Do not fall in love, no matter what you do,” she said and would say for years to come. 

(She’d say it long after her hair would turn gray, still shining due to the copious amounts of products she imported for that very purpose. Her hands, gnarled and unable to stand the test of time, would come to rest against your cheeks, just as tender as before. You were older now, a grown adult, but still that mistake of a child to her. She would repeat this every year, and every year you were made to listen.)

This you, the you forced to sit on that leather couch and dab at the tears collecting in the corner of your mother’s eyes (the ones she refused to even acknowledge but would throw a fit if they made a mess of her makeup), was 18. Graduation was around the corner and you could feel the anticipation coiling in the air. It swirled around everyone, made a living underneath their skin and manifested in jitters they either didn’t want to stop or couldn’t. You, on the other hand, it avoided with the sort of single minded determination that would be funny if it didn’t leave you feeling numb. 

It was a year of reminiscing, of looking back and looking forward. It was a year of goodbyes, shouted with glee or forced out through a throat thick with tears. It was a year of endings and beginnings. 

Caleb was going to fly, his evol practically his love letter to that profession. MC, when she graduated, was going to be a Hunter, her eyes shining with fierce determination whenever she’d brought it up. And you?

Well.

Linkon U was the school you chose because your mother, for all that she rarely ever saw you, threw a fit when you mentioned moving to Chansia or Goldwood City. She nearly vomited in her tirade when you said you wanted to pursue art. And she threw damn near every single bit of glass on the floor when you whispered the possibility of never coming back. None of them hit you, but they fell and shattered against the ground with such violence you wondered if that distinction even mattered.

The silence she left when she hurried out of the house was suffocating. She practically ran out of the place, her face pinched and eyes squinted shut as if she couldn’t force herself to see the damage she had created. She left you to deal with the consequences of her actions. You didn’t move for a long while, merely stared at the glass surrounding you, a reminder of the cage she had built all while she could experience all the world had to offer. Your reflection blinked back at you, just as expressionless, and something twisted inside of you as you stared at the nothing she had forced you to become. 

A ghost, a spectator to everything and everyone else’s life. A shade, forced to hide in the shadows while everyone else got to bask in the sun. Nothing but a wisp of a person. That was you. That would always be you.

Chest feeling tight, you moved, your body careening to the side and almost toppling over your dining chair. The shards of glass splintered further underneath and all around you, responding to the turmoil underneath your skin. You could feel them heat and turn molten underneath your raging emotions. They would’ve burnt a hole into your mother’s cherished hardwood floors had something in the back of your mind not hissed and you levitated them slightly up. It was as though that was the invitation they needed as they whizzed around, fizzing and popping in equal measure. Bits and pieces would splash across your skin and you stared, detached, as the heat of it barely reacted against your skin. 

‘Ah,’ you thought, a hysterical laugh built upon years of silent acceptance bubbled up to the surface, ‘I will die here and not even this house will mourn me.’ 

You didn’t notice your phone buzzing-didn’t notice the way it rang against your skin as glass melted and reformed around you over and over and over again. You were floating, breaths coming out in sharp pants and body swaying from the left and to the right, guided only by the spinning bits of molten glass. It left you in a precarious bubble, one you wouldn’t (couldn’t) break. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

You didn’t notice the door opening, didn’t notice the slightly hurried footprints or the sharp inhale. You didn’t hear the quiet whisper of your name, sharp and then soft as they took in the scene, the way you were curled in on yourself, tight and shivering. You didn’t feel their presence as they got closer, crouched as close to your body as they possibly could, mindful of the burning glass twisting around you. 

But you felt the weight-a shift in the pressure around you as you suddenly felt heavier. It wasn’t overwhelming, merely a minute shift in your gravitational center, but it was enough. You weren’t back in your body, not fully, but you could feel it in a way that wasn’t real to you before. It felt heavy, awkward, and part of you wanted to go back to floating above it all but you knew better. You didn’t rise from your curled up position, didn’t do anything but shift your head slightly and squint at the lights.

He was sitting there, bathed in the unforgiving glow of your kitchen light. Brow furrowed, his eyes tracked the glass swishing around you. His hand twitched and you noticed slightly more pressure around you. Your body, alight with tingles only the freshly awakened dead could feel, didn’t register this added pressure. No, it was the glass around you, slowly hardening, that registered this change. They lowered slightly, just enough for him to notice you watching.

The smile formed on his face slowly, first on the outer edges and then fully. As though he was unsure which smile to give you: the concerned one, filled with sympathy and warmth, or the encouraging one, filled with strength and purpose. The smile he gave was a mixture of the two, unsure of its own purpose and real for that alone. He looked at you and then opened his arms, an invitation freely given.

You did not make a sound when the glass around you dropped to the floor. You did not cry when you crashed into his arms and wrapped yourself around him like a snake. You did not say a word when you buried your face in his neck and breathed deeply.

You didn’t say a word, but something within you, a peony against concrete, bloomed further.

‘I’m not going to love you,’ you thought, wrapped in his arms as you were, ‘please do not let me fall in love with you.’ Caleb, unaware of your thoughts and so incredibly warm and present in these moments, merely hugged you tighter to him. 

(It only until later when you’d removed yourself from his embrace and got to work cleaning up and fixing the glass that you recognized the futility of that plea. He was standing next to you, his reflection bouncing off each piece of glass you slowly fused together. His presence filled you with the sort of stability you were infusing into the glass. It held you together with a tender sort of gentleness-like he’d seen the cracked pieces and accepted them all the same.

It was humbling. Terrifying. Freeing.

Warm.

And you, so tired of feeling the chill of a life half-lived, fell into it. You did not care if it was meant to be yours; in this moment, in this singular moment, you allowed yourself to feel selfish. You fell into that warmth, an imitation of the sun created just for you.)

The day before graduation was sunny, the temperature well above what you found acceptable to do anything, much less walk around the city’s town square. MC had insisted the two of you hunt for Caleb’s graduation gift, wrapping a hand around your arm and pulling you out of the house the moment she sensed even a hint of hesitation on your part. 

(It’s not as though it really took much to get you out of the silence your home had become ever since that night. Your mother’s presence, generally oppressive when forced to be in your proximity, had dwindled to nothing. She rarely came home, her visits fewer than ever. The silence should’ve been nice, the mutual decision to stay away from each other should’ve felt freeing.

It didn’t. It wasn’t. A part of you wondered if you could ever please her. The answer to that, you knew, but still you tried. Fruitlessly, hopelessly, you tried.

And you were worse off for it.)

And so here the two of you were, blistering hot underneath the heat of the sun, unhindered by any clouds, searching for a present worthy of Caleb. 

MC was the one to spot the store, practically skipping in with you trailing behind her. The jewelry store was tucked in slightly, squished between a trendy cafe and an inviting bookstore. There weren’t too many customers, merely an elderly couple who, in the midst of their quiet giggling, bought a ring to commemorate 50 years together.

MC sighed quietly, dropping slightly into your arms to grin up at you. 

“Let’s get one when we’re 50,” she said, her voice soft with affection. She didn’t give you a second to respond, already moving past the moment like she hadn’t caused a ripple in your stomach, hadn’t caused you to actually think of a life past the here and now. It was amazing, how she spoke of the future without a hint of uncertainty, how she’d already decided that her future would include you in it, steady and unchanging.

‘No,’ you thought, watching MC flit from section to section, testing out different types of jewelry, ‘that isn’t it.’

She didn’t see you as unchanging-she just thought that you would grow together. And something about that made your stomach clench and your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. You wanted in that moment. You didn’t know what it was, but you wanted so very badly.

When MC pulled forth a silver dog tag, beaming over at you and proudly proclaiming that “this is the one!” When she hurried over to the jeweler, mouth already moving to ask for it to be engraved, when she looked over to you to ask if you wanted to add to this, all you could do was smile.

You reached into your pocket, hand already manipulating the glass into the shape you wanted it to be, your mind flitting through memories of Caleb and his smiles, the food he still brought over despite it being years, the hugs that lingered, the smile that fit any and all occasions.

You thought of apples-how you followed him along on one of his trips to the grocery store and watched him test each one for any abnormalities. You thought of how he would carefully cut them, sometimes into thick wedges, other times into random shapes-sometimes easily identifiable, other times unrecognizable. 

You thought of the sun-of the way he lit up around MC and she in turn with him. How MC smiled with reckless abandon, unaware of the daze she put everyone in. You thought of how warm she was, how she came by day after day after day, chasing away any chill in your home. You thought of how much she shined and worried about whether it would ever be too much for her.

You thought of Caleb. You thought of MC. And the glass charm that you pulled out: a bright red apple with a miniature sun around it, represented the two of them. It was Caleb and it was MC, made by your hands. It was something tying the 3 of you together.

You reinforced the glass, mentally pushing as much durability as you possibly could. It wouldn’t break, not unless you willed it.

It was beautiful. The finished piece caught the light in just the right way that the apple shined. MC blinked and grinned back at you, nodding her head as if to commend you for your choice. 

You weren’t there when MC handed Caleb the necklace, weren’t there when she explained that it was a present from you and her. You weren’t there to see the flicker in Caleb’s eyes when she pointed to the apple and said you made it. The way he caressed the glass while he brought it closer to inspect it. His voice shook slightly when he commented on the craftsmanship, on the care you’d employed to make it. You weren’t there to see him notice the words etched onto the metal, weren’t there to see his eyes widen and a smile, syrupy sweet, settle on his lips. You weren’t there to see him insist MC put it on him, weren’t there to see him gently caress the words long after she left.

You were home, quietly tucking your mother into bed. She had cried some more after getting you to promise yet again that you would never fall in love. Her face had crumpled, collapsing in on itself with the weight of her cries, and you could do nothing but hold her. You lied and told her you weren’t in love, lied and told her that there was no one that made your heart race and your palms turn clammy. You lied and told her there was no one occupying your heart or your lungs or had dominion over the butterflies in your stomach. You lied because you knew her cries would only get uglier if she knew the truth.

That you were already far gone. 

Instead of a phone call that night, he came to you. You were sitting at your customary spot against your window when you noticed his form glide up from the ground to hover in front of you. He tapped the window twice, teasingly asking you to let him in and chuckling softly when you blinked back at him, nonplussed. Shaking your head-and pretending as though you weren’t flustered by his sudden appearance-you opened the latch to your window. He floated through, winking at you before he settled into the floor of your home-your room.

He’d never been in your room-neither of them have now that you thought about it. You had always met them downstairs, in the easily showcased portions of your home. Sure, Caleb had seen the ugliness of broken glass and an empty fridge, but watching him stand there in the middle of your room felt too revealing. It felt as though, with one quick glance across your room, he’d see more than you were ready to show-the parts of you tucked away, only to be pulled out under the cover of darkness, alone.

The most revealing thing about your room could be that there wasn’t much in there at all. No posters were on your wall. No bookshelf took up space along the wall either. There was no desk. There was just a bed, resting against a metal bed frame. The dresser was pushed to the side, and on it were the only decorations you managed to acquire: several photos of you, MC, and Caleb, of just you and MC, and of just you and Caleb. There was a singular photo of your mother, worn down on the edges and slightly stained like you had grabbed it from the trash. There were some random bits of glass, misshapen bits that seemed to resemble apples and stars and suns. There was a singular notebook resting on that dresser, black and unobtrusive, it held all your ideas.

Beyond that, though, your room was empty. It was large, but that did nothing but make the space feel emptier. You sat there, back straight against your window, staring with baited breath as Caleb’s eyes slowly swept across the room before settling back onto you.

He didn’t comment on the room because of course he wouldn’t. He just looked at you, taking in your expression, before walking towards you. Crouching in front of you, his hand rested against your knee, the action smooth and easy despite it wreaking havoc on your insides. He said nothing, waiting, with the sort of patience you thought was reserved for MC, for you to look at him. When you did, your heart jack hammering in your chest, he offered you a smile, slow and beautiful like the setting sun behind you.

“There you are,” he whispered, his voice pitched low. His hand moved from your knee with deliberate slowness, settling against your calf and carefully massaging the muscle there, “I thought you were hiding from me for a second there.”

You hummed softly, pitching forward to catch the way the fading light rested against his eyes, bringing out bursts of color you hadn’t seen before. The purple, predominant as always, blazed underneath the light of the sun. 

‘Beautiful,’ you thought, heart aching with so many emotions you couldn’t even possibly start cataloging them, ‘so very beautiful.’

He moved closer to you in the silence, the hand caressing your calf moving back up to your knee and squeezing. You opened your legs, letting him settle in between and pitch forward into your already open arms. He nuzzled into your neck, breathing deeply before wrapping his own arms around you. It was grounding, safe. It was Caleb.

‘I love you,’ you almost said, the words sticking to the roof of your mouth before dying, ‘I am so incredibly in love with you, I can barely breathe.’

“Come back safe,” you said instead, inhaling the words you really wanted to say and breathing this out instead, “and when you come back, you have to tell me all about how cool Skyhaven is.” He huffed out a laugh against you, squeezing once before pulling back slightly to tap your nose.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” his voice was low, but no less teasing. He didn’t remove himself from your embrace, didn’t reestablish any sort of space between the two of you. It was just you and Caleb, wrapped up in each other in the dying light of your room. 

You held him close, and for that moment, that singular moment that you wished you could extend for a lifetime, you pretended he was yours.

[aerosolsprite]

how many times do you need to close the door of that fridge, dude?

you underestimate how many times i will open the fridge in hopes that a Little Treat has spawned. and end up grabbing a string cheese on my way out.

…i eat way too much string cheese

[pokemon-ash-aus]

So your other blog says "temporary haitus" and i read it as haikus the first time I saw it and now every time i check that blog i get this image in my mind like what if there was a temporary haiku curse where everyone has to talk exclusively in haikus just imagine

So I am on break,

Couldn't talk, couldn't listen

It takes time to heal.

[dancingundermoonlight101]

"Megatron, your smile was different for a few moments before battle. I don't like what it's doing to me. It was directed at me, but it wasn't an egotistical smirk or a wicked smile. Do you realize what that's doing to my spark? Stop making me.. act so foolishly. It's embarrassing to overthink simple interactions like these! No.. I shouldn't be placing the blame on you. A Prime shouldn't act like this. I need to pull myself together."

Optimus's hand touches his chest, feeling the beat of his spark.

"Why is loving you so easy, yet so difficult. I love you as easily as breathing. But I am underwater. The war is still very much alive. I am not supposed to love you. Why am I in love with a mech that will never love me back? With a mech that has killed more Autobots than we can keep track of? Why.. Why are you so irresistible? It's unfair. Primus, give me the strength and the willpower to move on from this glich my spark has. I don't wish to continue like this."

[noemitenshi]

Excerpt

“Hi, Troy,” he whispered his fingers gently caressing Troy. His thumb moved to Troy’s lips, softly tracing them—no, working them open. And when he slipped his finger inside, Troy had to work hard not to lick over the tantalizing pad, not to open his mouth further, stick his tongue out like the greedy thing he was.

 Lee knew him well though, knew him well enough to rub his finger against Troy’s tongue and a quiet little chocked moan escaped Troy. Quiet enough that it could be just a little sound he’d made in his sleep.

“Look at you,” Lee breathed. His voice was nearer still, he must’ve knelt down. “So helpless…” and he pulled his finger from Troy’s mouth, leaving him wanting. “All laid out for me.” And he kissed Troy’s unresponsive lips. Well. Mostly unresponsive. He was only human after all. And Lee’s hand tangled tightly in Troy’s locks had him… reacting.

“Christ, Troy,” Lee gasped against Troy’s lips.

 Troy wanted to touch him, pull him close, feel what this was doing to him – it had to be doing something, he was so sure of it, had heard it in Lee’s raspy voice. It was evident in Lee’s greedy touch all over Troy’s body. It wasn’t restless, nor quick but possessively deliberate and Troy longed to arch into it. He managed not to, just so, but when Lee murmured a low “all mine” Troy couldn’t choke back a needy moan.

“Ssh—” Lee put his finger to Troy’s lips, tapping slightly “—you’re not supposed to hear me…”

 Right, because he was supposed to be asleep. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep quiet.

[inkcurlsandknives]

New PFP background!!! I'm in love and a thousand thank you's to Teangeri who created such beautiful artwork based on the patterned beaded piña cloth shawl I inherited from my grandmother, one day I'll make a Filipiniana this beautiful. Check out their Twitter for more art

[phoenixiancrystallist]

@flyingwide wanted refuge pictures and even though the one I had on hand was deemed "perfect," I did say I was gonna get more/better ones so have an unscheduled photo dump :3

[sae-mian]

the time between Shadowbringers and Endwalker was... an interesting experience, for nira’sae

[knightoflodis]

What’s the “I somehow stumble into having friends, I know I made them but I am unsure if I can successfully make more”

Like. I am a lot better at communicating and know how to probe people to get them talking and I feel like I have some charm. But I feel like most of the time extroverts just found and adopted me. Or I made friends while being trapped in the same location (school, work, etc)

Or. I can make friends more easily while drinking.

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[heyhanibee]

cliffhanger so disrespectful i had to draw it sorry🐸🐸🐸

[xandrikart]

The most beautiful thing about Drawtectives is that you can choose any combination and you will be right. But no way I'm ignoring a beautiful garb next to York.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Circus baby or not, she’s still Michael’s little sister,,

[stars-obsession-pit]

Fridged (but only half successfully)

Danny awoke in a cramped, pitch-dark box with the taste of blood in his mouth. It took his brain a few moments to boot up, but then he jerked forward in a panic.

And promptly collapsed unceremoniously to the ground as a side of the box swung open.

A fridge. He had woken up in a fridge.

What hell happened to him last night?

Pushing himself around to sit upright, he grimaced at the sensation of wet fabric clinging to his skin. Glancing downwards at his clothes, he froze. The crimson stains covering the entire front of his body were impossible to misidentify. He was soaked in blood.

Fuck, this wasn’t gonna be something he could just ignore, was it. He let his head thunk back against the fridge, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath as he cast his mind backwards.

The last thing he remembered was flopping into bed in his shitty Gotham apartment after finishing a voice call with his significant other. An apartment he was definitely no longer in. So what the hell had happened to get him here?

Suddenly, his introspection was interrupted by a figure crashing in through the window. One of the bats, who then completely froze up upon taking in Danny’s slumped form.

A horrified whisper left their lips. “Danny…?”

[shwinlsol]

break day

[hopeswriting]

reminder that if you back tsuna into a corner he

A) sends you right back into the worst prison for mafia criminals you just escaped from, but even worse than before (enjoy being unconscious and tied up in your one room swimming pool for the next 10 years)

B) freezes you with flames burning so hot they turned into ice (< this isn't how the zero point breakthrough is explained in canon but it's the more dramatic explanation), fully knowing you were already frozen by similar ones for 8 years until, like, a month prior

C) burns you fucking alive and also undoes the last 10 years of your existence across all existing timelines. also he won't think anything about it afterwards ever (?????? like. it's not that he didn't deserve it, to be clear, but damn. 😭😭😭 middle schoolers when you just want to take over the world(s) for a bit, smdh 🙄)

D) is willing to become the boss of the most powerful mafia family in the world with a bloodstained history if it means getting the opportunity to get his hands on you and kill you beat the shit out of you. but you're lucky he likes you so you could stay on very thin ice long enough for both of you to clear things up

E) gangs up against you with all the current and future strongest people in the world, and then punches you so hard he makes you see the light of doing the right thing despite your centuries years old deep rooted hatred which singlehandedly kept you alive as an undead person

also reminder he did all that while he was only 14 years old. this is all things he did in less than a year.

this is tsuna's resume during the course of less than a year of proper mafia business.

so, you know. the next time he goes "i just want my friends and i to be safe and happy and live in peace. 🥺🥺🥺 please don't make me fight you to make it happen? 👉🏽👈🏽🥺👉🏽👈🏽🥺👉🏽👈🏽🥺"

just maybe, consider listening to him