#even the pictures i took of myself are ugly why do i look like this

[risuola]

BIRTHDAY GIFT — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Sometimes you forget about your own birthday, but no worries, Satoru's got you. He always remember, and he even prepared a very special gift for you.

cw: fluff, no warnings — 2,8k words

a/n: i turned 28 this week, so here i am indulging myself with a fictional party, because i hate real parties. also i'm not sure if the picture in the middle is an official art or the fan art, i claim no rights to it 🩶

“Thanks Kento,” you addressed the blonde, when you got out of the bathroom in his house. “You’re saving my life.”

“No need to thank me,” he responded with the ghost of a smile on his face, and you checked yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, but other than that, thankfully normal, which wasn’t the case just half an hour ago, when you finished your job in the field.

It was a simple mission – get to the place, exorcise a bunch of curses, nothing out of ordinary and nothing especially difficult to do. Quite the opposite, it went smoothly – it took you three hours to hunt down every single one of the little curses, but their grades were low. One thing you were not told before taking the assignment though, was that those curses had a tendency to ugly explode with purple and green goo as they were exorcised. That’s why, when the job was done, you were covered from head to toe in those slimy curse gut-residuals. It was on your clothes, hands, in your hair and you could have sworn it was in your mouth too. You could feel it, smell it, taste it and damn was it disgusting. Hence why you called Nanami on your way back and thankfully found him at home. His apartment was so near, compared to the way you had to reach Jujutsu high and being the sweetheart that he is, he agreed for you to take a shower at his place and even gave you one of his dress shirts to wear, because your clothes were good for nothing but a trash bag. It was way too big, but with a belt it made for a pretty cute dress actually.

Once you were ready to leave, he got up as well.

“I have a thing to check in school so Ijichi will drive us both,” he explained and you gave it a nod and after that, you two went down to get a ride.

“How are you?”, you asked your friend, while you two were comfortably seated in the back of a car. It’s been a while since you last saw Nanami. “I didn’t even ask.”

“I’m good, thanks y/n,” he once again, gave you the slightest one of his smiles and exhaled deeply. “You’re tired, huh?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Guess I didn’t sleep well today, it’s all good.” You shrugged it off, looking at the driver. “And you, Ijichi? Satoru’s not bothering you too much?”

“I-I’m fine and no, he’s n-not,” the man stuttered, sweat beads forming on his forehead as he spoke and you chuckled. That poor man was constantly being terrorized by the strongest sorcerer for god knows why.

“So, he is bothering you,” you chuckled and Ijichi laughed nervously, wiping his forehead with a tissue. “You don’t have to be so scared of him, he just likes to assert his dominance but he wouldn’t hurt you. Is he bothering you as well, Nanami?”

“Gojo is always bothering me,” the blonde sighed. “It always amazes me how fondly you speak of him. You really seem to like Satoru.”

“Oh, he’s really not that bad,” a smile spread over your face as you thought about Satoru. “He’s quite charming, actually.”

Truth is, you and Satoru are closer than any of you might wanna admit. You’re co-workers, that’s for sure. Friends, also, you know each other since high school and you kept in touch ever since. You probably know the man more than he knows himself. You’ve also been on few dates. Unofficial dates, of course, more like you just went to the same place, at the same time, just the two of you, and sat at the same table or bench, and talked for hours as you were brushing circles onto the skin of his hands or he was just keeping yours in his palms. Those kinds of dates. Nothing serious.

“As charming as a clown can be, I guess,” Nanami shrugged softly and you giggled. “But you two should get together, it’s only you who he seems to not enjoy annoying.”

“Commitment in our profession doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

The rest of the drive went in calm, you talked with the two in the car about sweet little nothings, sharing meaningless details about your days and maybe Ijichi seemed a little more stressed than usual, but you didn’t notice anything too weird to think about it. That’s why when you pulled off to the school and got to the main building, your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the sudden and incredibly loud ‘surprise!’ being thrown at your face.

“Huh?”, it stunned you to the point of disorientation. Why were all of your students and most of the older sorcerers that you know here? Why all the balloons, confetti and the cake?

“It’s your birthday, dummy,” you quickly were swept by the long arm of no one else but Satoru Gojo, who greeted you with a grin wide and bright and a light squeeze on your shoulder. The gesture was friendly, but you couldn’t deny the warmth that exploded in your chest the moment he touched you.

“My birthday?” Oh yes, your birthday. “God, I forgot about it.”

“I figured, buuuut we didn’t so I hope you have a little bit more power in your batteries to celebrate?”, Satoru led you more into the crowded space and with real surprise you noticed that even Yuuta was here, and students from Kyoto along with Utahime. No Gakuganji though, thanks to the heavens.

It was all surreal but at the same time so grounding to be surrounded by so many people that you find close to your heart. And for the next hours, you forgot about how tired your body was, how disgusting you were earlier that day and how perfectly Nanami acted like he has a real job in the school rather than the party to attend.

You stayed there until very late, enjoying every second of talks and laughs with your friends and students. You caught up with all of them, learned about the progress the teenagers were making, got to know more about how work was for the older sorcerers and even, when outside for a quick fresh air breath, one of the little, flying curses gave you a card with few wishes written in it, with no sign whatsoever, but it was the handwriting that gave it away. Suguru Geto. Even though he went a very different path than the rest of you, even though you all lost contact with him the moment he left around the second year, he had never, not even once, forgotten about your birthday, always delivering a card or something else one way or another. It warmed your heart and sometimes you wished to see him just for a moment to give him one last bear hug. You couldn’t, but the card will go to the box of things you cherish, along with the round, dark shades that no one could see through – the ones that Gojo was wearing while in high school; with Shoko’s first scalpel that she used to practice – the very cheap one that got blunt after just few uses; with one button from Haibara’s uniform – the only one that was left hanging by a thread, when he got back to school one last time and along with many other things you’ll hold onto until the day you die.

“Tired?”, Satoru asked you, when the clock hands moved past 1am. Most of the students were already gone and teachers also began to crumble down, calling it a night.

“Exhausted,” you chuckled softly and squeezed the hand he offered you, helping you get up from the couch.

“Let’s get you to bed, how’s that sound?”

“Perfect.”

With all of the goodbyes done, you gathered your gifts and left with Satoru, heading towards your little apartment. All the way he was keeping your hand in his, grinning like he usually does, but something felt off in the way his fingers were wrapped around you. A little tighter than always, little more possessive – a little more like he was afraid to let go of you even though that would be an irrational fear, because you never wanted anything more than to be held by him.

“Soo,” he began, when you both stepped into your place and you put down all of the bags, “I hope you don’t think I forgot about your gift. Though it’s technically not your birthday anymore.”

“Oh, Satoru, you know I don’t care about the gifts, right?” you smiled at him. “All of this, the party, the people, is more than I could wish for. Every second spent with all of you is worth more than any gift I could receive.”

“Yea, yea,” he waved a hand at you, making you laugh. He made you feel all kinds of weird things, one of which being the urge to slap and kiss him at the same time. “I actually have two gifts for you.”

“Of course you have,” a shake of your head was all you could offer him. Of course, Satoru Gojo had to be extra like that. “So?”

“Sooo, that’s the first one.” You didn’t even question the way he pulled the light-blue bag with a matching ribbon on top of it from behind his back, like he had it all of the time, which you know he didn’t. You took it anyway and before you even peeked inside, you reached up to him and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, whispering little ‘thank you’. “You’re welcome, now, you can check it later,” almost immediately after the bag landed in your hands, it was snatched away and put down where the other gifts were. “The second gift-“

You looked at him with confusion, realizing that Satoru was… nervous? He was bouncing slightly on his feet, as if he was hyping himself up. He took his glasses off and brushed a hand through his hair.

“Yea?”, you encouraged him to continue, taking him by the hands in hopes to calm him down a little. “What is it? Satoru, don’t tell me you bought me a snow tiger or something?”

“Huh? No, I didn’t. What, you want a snow tiger? You said they are cute, but-“

“No, absolutely not. No snow tigers, please.”

“Ok, wow, I’m more nervous than I was… ever, probably, that’s new,” he laughed at his own composure, or rather the lack of thereof, and now you really began to worry. What the hell did this man did?

“Just say it, I can take it.”

Pulling him by the hands, you took him onto the sofa, now slightly worrying he might really pass out. Doors to your apartment stayed open wide, but that was the least of your worries, when you two sat down and all your eyes could fix on was a man next to you. He looked stunning in his dark grey sweater that exposed a little bit of his collar bones and his long neck, contrasting with his pale skin, light hair and really making his eyes pop. The eyes that made it so easy to get lost. They were like an ocean under the clear sky and bright sunlight, illuminating with thousands of glittering sparkles and the shades of azure and turquoise mixed and flew one into another, intertwining and creating an artwork impossible to recreate. If someone were to animate Satoru, the whole budget would probably go into his eyes alone.

“So, first you need to know that if what I want to give you is not something you feel comfortable accepting, please don’t feel obliged to and just say no. Okay?”, he spoke again and you nodded.

“Come on, Satoru. Just tell me. Or show me, whatever it is.”

“Show you. Alright, I can do that.”

You expected everything. Your mind even wandered into absurd such as him giving you an airplane for god knows what reason, but even in your boldest, bravest dreams you didn’t anticipate his lips on yours. He went all slow and soft about it, closing the distance carefully, leaving you with more than enough time to react and push him away if you wanted to, and when he finally reached you, planting a gentle kiss to your mouth, whilst his hand rested on the side of your neck a little stiffly, you froze for a second. Your body froze, but your heart was racing inside your chest, beating so hard he probably could hear it and feel it in your pulse underneath his palm. Satoru’s lips felt as soft as they looked, so perfect against yours even though what was happening wasn’t even resembling a kiss. It was more like a press with the slightest movement applied but it spoke so much. It was an offer – that way Gojo opened himself to you, ripped his own chest apart and with that simple peck on the lips, he wanted to tell you that now, he’s ready to be vulnerable with you, if you’d only want him to.

“Is my second gift a kiss from you?”, you questioned when he moved his head back just a little, searching for your reaction. It would be on brand for Gojo to consider a kiss from himself a valuable gift, which it was, but if that’s what he wanted to offer you, he had to put more effort into it.

“It’s me. If you’ll have me,” he almost whispered, smoothing over your jawline with his thumb. “Maybe it’s not the best idea to commit to relationship in our line of work, but fuck this. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

“Are you serious?”

“Never been more serious.”

Your heart fluttered. Grabbing his face in both of your hands, you went in and kissed him, pouring into it all of the love you held for him and he purred softly against your lips, wrapping his long arms around you and leaning more against you. He outweighed you; you lost your balance and fell back onto the couch and he followed you closely, breaking the kiss just to ask, “is that a yes?”

“Yes, Satoru. Very much yes,” you chuckled and his lips were back on yours, taking your breath away with how good it felt. Your fingers found a way through his silky, snowy white strands, you smoothed over the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, giving into the sensation that radiated throughout your entire nervous system, sending hot waves of pure euphoria down your spine and into every cell in your body. You were happy, the exhaustion now completely forgotten and only the man above you mattered. His weight felt so right on top of you, even in the insanely uncomfortable position you two were now trapped in with your hips twisted below his torso and him now half in the air and half on the couch because there was no way for his height to fit in here. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was his lips on yours, his warmth on your skin and-

“Doors,” you mumbled into the kiss, the gentle whiff of cold air reminded you of what has been forgotten. The doors, that were still wide open. He could feel your chest rumbling with a chuckle as you realized none of you cared enough to even close your apartment when you went in and he made a decision to ignore this fact, now completely consumed by the thought of you. He hummed something and moved his lips lower, smearing kisses all over your chin and down your neck and you tugged softly onto his hair. “Satoru, doors are still opened-”

Getting up, walking towards the entrance and locking the doors would be the logical thing to do, but the thought of parting his own body from yours for even a second now didn’t dare to cross Gojo’s mind, so he stretched his hand towards the doors, consumed by sucking a red spot to the side of your neck and you couldn’t believe it, but he blasted the door with a cursed energy. They shut with the loudest noise anyone could create at that hour in the middle of the night and not ten seconds passed, before they just fell out of frame and hit the floor with another harsh thud.

That seemed to do the trick in stopping the heat, because both of you froze for a moment and you looked to the side, he looked to the side and the world stopped for a whole five second, before you started laughing and playfully patting his shoulder.

“What have you done,” you whined. “Satoruu~”

“I’ll fix this,” he swore, hiding his face back into the crook of your neck, pretending like he wasn’t even there and you couldn’t help but brush through his hair as laughter still had the better of you. “Guess I’ll have to stay the night so you can be safe.”

“Guess that might be necessary.”

[lowkeyremi]

𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 -> Aizawa Shota x afab!reader

➼ Sum: In short, you're fired from your main job. The worry and stress hits you while you're ugly crying outside of the building of your old workplace. You happen to meet a man who can give you a job. The question is... should you take it?

➼ Chapters: Prologue, 1

➼ Content Warning: Implied fem reader, reader has fem parts, eventual sexual content, suggestive language, all characters are aged up, eventual relationships, strippers, reader is struggling. (I'll add more as time goes on)

Prologue - I'm Fucking Losing It.

banner by: cafekitsune

"Please... I promise it won't happen again." You're on your knees in one of the halls, pleading- no begging to keep your job. It couldn't be helped though, why should you let people get handsy with you when it makes you uncomfortable?

"I'm sorry but that was your last chance. You've beaten up too many customers.. publicly at that and it's scaring away customers." Your manager says, he seems to feel for you but that frown may just be as fake as your life right now.

"But I'm your top money maker!" This is your last resort. You cannot lose this job because you don't make much at your coffee shop part-time.

"Technically, that's no longer true. Your performance has been sloppy lately, so Ami has risen and taken your spot." His words shatter what's left of your hope. Your makeup runs as you cry ugly tears. A man walks past the two of you, most likely toward the restroom. Any other time you'd be embarrassed, but right at this moment all you can feel is emptiness.

"So I'm being fired for defending myself?" You ask between sobs and sniffles.

"No, you know we wouldn't let anything happen to you. It's policy after all. You also know better than anyone that people at clubs are drunk and high even, so, of course, they're going to touch you. It's what you signed up for." He says to keep it professional.

Anger starts to seep into you. "Fuck, if that's how it's gonna be then I'll leave!" They don't deserve your service anyway.

"Ms. L/n...?" Your boss asks and you look up at him. He sees you struggling to stand because of your sore feet, these heels do you no justice. A hand is held out and you take it, trembling as you get up.

"I could recommend you to another club-" You cut him off.

"I'm good, thank you for everything you've done for me." It breaks your heart that you're leaving this place. As weird as it sounds this club was the closest thing to a home for you.

You start your walk to the backroom to get your things. Emptying your locker was the hardest. The tears start flowing again when you see the old Polaroid pictures you took with some of your coworkers who you considered to be some of your best friends.

Once changed out of your lingerie and you've packed everything you turn in everything the club let you use.

There was no way you'd say farewell to this life, it'd only make leaving it behind all the more hard. You walk outside and slump against the club's wall. You allow yourself to cry it all out.

You call your mother not sure what to do.

She picks up on the second ring, "Hello?"

"Hey.." you mumble. Your voice is hoarse due to crying.

Your mother instantly sighs, "Did you get yourself into some bullshit again?"

"Um.. yeah. Can I stay with you until I-" You're cut off by your mother's stern voice.

"Y/n, I cannot keep covering for your ass. You are twenty-six years old and every time you get into some shit you come crying to me or your father to fix it. I raised you better than that." And so the lecture begins.

"Mom please, just for a week or two.." You plead, usually she'd give in but she seems to be set on teaching you a lesson.

"No. You can call me if you need anything, but you need to get your life together. Life is not all cupcakes and rainbows. You need to learn how to deal with it. I love you but I have to go." Your mother, the one who's supposed to have your back through thick and thin is in your opinion giving up on you.

Your crying continues. What the hell are you supposed to do? Bills are due a little while from now and you work a small paying part-time.

"Shit I need to look for a job." You say sniffling.

"I could be of some assistance." A deep voice rings in your ears. You assume whoever it is is making a phone call and is not talking to you.

"You are in need of a job, correct? I could help you get into an honest line of work." The voice tries again. This time you look up to see a man with long raven hair casting down his shoulders, he has stubble covering his face alongside a few scars, and an eye patch that hides his right eye.

"Me?" You ask stoked about his appearance.

"I don't see anyone else out here crying their eyes out." He says with a hint of smugness. Wait.. how does he know you need a job?

"How did you-"

"Those walls aren't that thick." He replies somehow already knowing what you were bound to say.

"I need an assistant, I teach in a high school." The scoff that leaves your lips is inevitable.

"Teachers don't make shit, how am I supposed to pay my bills with a job like that?" Sarcasm is laced in your tone, you search his eye for any sign that he'll leave you alone but he seems determined.

"It's not just any high school. I'm a first-year teacher at UA high school, you'll be making around $20 an hour as my assistant. Also room and board is provided." Your eyes widen, now the offer is more tempting.

Looking down you get a glimpse of his prosthetic leg. "You need help because of your leg?"

"No, I could just use an extra set of hands, it seems every year the hero students get a little bit more naive." His sigh does not go unnoticed by you.

"Don't you need like a degree or something? Why are you asking an ex-stripper?" It's not even out of spite just pure curiosity.

"Usually you would, but I can get you the job. I'm asking because you seem to be struggling and if I can do something about it then I'll try to the best of my ability to make it happen."

Oh. So he's one of those people. The kind to pity anybody, you assume.

"I'm not struggling, I'm fucking losing it." The tears threaten to come back.

"What would I do?" You ask.

"Bring stuff from the printer, monitor the class, answer questions on current subjects, get coffee, other simple things like that." The calmness in his voice is a little unnerving.

"And I'd get paid $20 an hour for that?" The shock in your voice causes the man to chuckle a little bit.

"Correct. Any other questions?" His voice is smooth.

"How can you trust me? I just got fired for beating people up." You fear losing the potential job but you just had to ask.

"As you said, you were defending yourself. Your job should have considered that, even if the people are drunk that is no excuse for them to touch you when you have asked them to stop." He explains simply.

"Okay, I'll take the job.. when can I start?" This is what is crucial to you, those bills need to be paid, and getting behind would only cause you more trouble. But then again room and board is provided... would you even need to live in your crappy apartment anymore?

"Next week or the week after, I need to speak with the principal. Once everything is set straight I'll contact you about moving in." He rubs his face, and when looking into his eyes there was no way to tell what he was thinking. He looks so good though, you couldn't deny that.

"Eraserhead, a pleasure to meet you." That must be his hero name.

"Do I need some kind of code name? I'm not a hero. My stripper name was Golden Tiger." Your face flushes a little bit.

"Should've been Golden Kitten, you clearly haven't reached tiger status yet. Just give me your last name." It was clear he was teasing, his voice gave it away.

"Okay, just call me L/n then." He chuckles at your little huff of annoyance.

"Alright L/n, you think I could get your number to contact you?" That easygoing tone not leaving his voice.

You hand him your phone and you watch with interest as he types in his number. You hear a little hum escape his lips signaling he was done.

"Text me," he commands handing you back your phone. Something about the way he said that gave you goosebumps.

'Golden Tiger here.' you text biting your bottom lip. All you receive is Eraserhead shaking his head at you with a smug smirk.

"You need a ride home, Golden Kitten?" You can't even be upset when that smirk looks so good on him.

"Oh fuck off. My car's over there." You point to your ugly beige 2006 Honda Accord. (let's just pretend those still exist even tho the mha timeline is in the future)

"Is that any way to talk to someone who just got you a job?" His voice dropped an octave and you weren't sure if it was on purpose or if he was doing it unconsciously.

He looks like a tired man anyone wouldn't consider being attracted to but something about this man is drawing you in.

Instead of responding to his question, you ignore it, "I'm leaving."

You push yourself off the wall that hasn't been cleaned since who knows when. You'd forgotten that your feet were sore because of Eraserhead's presence but they reminded you of the pain.

Eraserhead mumbled something that sounded like 'be careful' but it wasn't certain, you already started limping to your car in pain.

Once situated you shut your eyes and let out a sigh.

"As cliché as this is, I'm glad my life is starting to work out a little bit." Your statement was heard by no one but yourself. When pulling out of the parking lot you play some music to prevent yourself from being left alone with your thoughts.

➼ AN: And that's a wrap for the prologue. I hope it's okay, this story came out of no where tbh. I'm not sure on how long I want it to be yet. I'm working on being more detailed in my writings. Also this is NOT beta read yet, bc I need to find someone to be my beta reader. Feel free to like, reblog, and comment! <3

[sarahdogoc80]

"Native Gene". What the Hell does that even mean Lily Orchard?

Jesus Christ I step away for a while and I come back to craziness. What the fuck is a native Gene? Does she mean her skin is Darker then her siblings? Does that mean her DNA alines more with natives compared to her full blooded sister?.

While I don't like to get into race and it's ugly history it should probably be stated that Lily came from two white parents (I've seen their pictures) and has mostly white grandparents. So at the very least she is way more white then not. Plus I know is trying to darken her skin with makeup.... Which feel a little iffy.

I am uncomfortable with people claiming to be something they aren't for some kind of street cred. I've almost been killed because of my race. But because Lily is white she likey hasn't been victim of a race related crime. I know she claims she was stabbed but I think that's because she was trans not ""native""".

My mom after she had me was cut off form her dad's side of the family because my dad was Mexican. So almost two years later when her dad's parents claim they wanted to meet me because I was their first ever great grand child my mom was so excited for me to meet them. So we go over there and I'm running around because I'm a baby who is finally walking. Well my great grandpa pulls out a gun and "starts cleaning it". Note because of how my mom grew up she didn't think it was odd he decided to clean a gun right then and there. So I have eventually stopped running around and started just bouncing myself up and down while holding onto the couch. That's when my great grandpa takes the shot. He missed by mer inches. Infact you can still see when the bullet went into the floor as my mom now owes that house. My mom quickly picked me up and ran out of there. My great grandpa tried to play it off as an accidently discard. But my mom is a lot of things but stupid sure as hell isn't one of them. So just because of my race my great grandpa was willing to shoot me his own family as a fucking baby. Just because my dad wasn't white. Well she didn't talk to them till after my chemo. At which point because she wanted to see her dad more regularly (he lived with his parents after my grandma divorced him). So she eventually took me and my brother over there. And they fucking hated my brother because he looks more Mexican then I do. Especially after the chemo. Due to almost dying and avoiding sun light for years like a vampire my skin had become lighter. And all of a sudden my great grandparents loved me. They started buying me gifts, started wanting me to come over all the time. Actually you know interacting with me. But they did non of that with my brother. So after mom starts trusting them again she lets her dad take us over there without her supervision.

Well one of the worse cases of racism I seen happen against my brother was one day we were over there. My great grandpa gave me a bag of chips. Now my brother was like 3/4ish at the time and still mute. So when my grandpa sees his dad give me chips he tells my brother to go get some. Now because my brother can't speak at this time. He runs up to him and hugs his leg with one up and does the gummies hands with the other. My great grandpa without care or hesitation kicks my toddler brother away and he hits the TV stand. He is shocked and so am I. He sits there moves his hand to the back of his head (where I assumed he hit it) looked at my great grandpa with the most betrayed and saddest look and start crying. My great grandpa didn't say sorry and when I asked why he did that. He said he doesn't want no "r*traded Wetback" touching him. So I went over to my brother to check him and he raised his arms and wanted to be picked up so I picked him up and almost fell because he was half my size. But I get us to the couch and he starts biting his pointer finger (note this is a stress behavior he did well into his teens) while crying. I check the back of his head and while there is a lump forming no blood. So I thought he would be fine. And while he specifically was fine (my mom rushed him to the ER when my grandpa gave us back to our mom and she seen the lump. And they said was going to be okay. But if he had a concussion or something I don't remember I just wanted to know if he was going to be okay.) if this happens to a child and a lump forms take your kid to the ER. I had to soothe my brother because my great grandma and my grandpa were ignoring the whole situation. I eventually offered to give him a back scratch and he calmed down. After this I tried to share my chip (another note chips are and always have been my brother's favorite food) and my great grandpa yells telling me not to share with him. I asked why and he said he doesn't deserve chips. And because I was scared I pretended to eat the chips while my brother kept trying to get me to give him some and actually tried to grab the back to which my great grandpa yelled at him that he'd pop him in his mouth if he didn't sit down and shut the fuck up. He's yelling this at a mute autistic toddler because he has the audacity to be born. I eventually don't care anymore and throw the half eaten bag away. They don't notice it's half eaten he wasn't that crazy. So now me and my brother are stuck in this living room watch a show we don't care about. My brother has one hand rubbing his lump and the other one he is bite on. I have to keep taking his finger out because he actually started to break he skin. He was under so much stress he kept biting even while he was bleeding. So I (I was a weird kid and always had bandaids on me) band aid his finger and had to keep stopping him for bitting. My great grandpa starts taunting us and say he can already tell my brother is going to be a drug dealer and stuff like that. But the breaking point were I did the first time asked my grandpa to take us home. Was when my great grandpa noticed my brother had asked for a hug and he said "Watch out *my name* one day the little spick's hand will be around your throat when he needs drug money." I then yelled "stop it popal (what we called him)" and asked my grandpa to take us home. To which he said no. Eventually the old bastard goes down for his nap. At which point I ask again for my grandpa to take us home. He says no your mom is sleeping I can't drop you off till 6. He then gets up and gives us each a bag of chips from his dad's stash and tell us to go play up in the playroom. So that what we did. It was more like we were hiding in there because we didn't want to have to deal out great grandpa.

These are my worse personal experiences with racism. This is what it is on a personal level. Just fear, hatred, abuse, and traumatizing. I feel Lily is also glamorizing the idea of what us people of non white skin colors have to face. And if I'm being honest the Hispanic/Latino, Blacks, and Native Americans get it the worse. And because Lily has neither black or Hispanic/Latino heritage anywhere she can remotely leech off of but does have a Native line she can. It's probably why she pushed this idea that she is one. Because she wants to be part of something she isn't. She is still trans and bisexual and those are two groups she could be fighting for. But no she wants to play dress up and pretend to be a race she isn't and didn't have to live her whole life as. Just so she can be a part of something she's not. Because she fetishizes and glamorizes the struggle and victories she only knows a fraction about. You are gross Lily. You don't actually care about what racism is. You don't care about how it effects us in life for the rest of our lives on a personal level. I almost died and my brother was abused for no other reason then our dad's heritage. You need help Lily. You need to look at the human side of racism and not the clean markable racism you were taught in school.

Edit I didn't get to participate in the cool Internet racism. Were you can drop one liners and own the conservative/ racist. I had to live in the racism that was ugly and cruel. I got to be told my own brother would one day kill me because he looked a little too Mexican for mein führer. I lived in the racism that tried to teach me I am worth more because I am lighter skinned. I lived in the racism with abuse because my brother wasn't the right skin tone. I hope I made my point clear as to my opinion on Lily's race and why it does matter

[pynkgothicka]

I see the request is open. Hoseok's portfolio "me myself and jhope all new hope", the one he wore all black with fire behind him really gives an evil villain. So can you write yandere villain Hoseok? Thank you.

Ｅ.Ｖ.Ｏ.Ｌ ＪＨＳ

Synopsis - You meet a man whose stuck in prison and start a relationship with him.

Pairing - Villain! Yandere! Dark! Jung Hoseok x Fem! Reader

Featuring - Alexa Demie

Tags and Warnings - Violence, Violence against MC, Manipulation, Smut, Fire

Authors Note - I HAD TO USE Y/N….. MY LIFE …… IS OVER

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

“Meet a inmate?” You looked back at your friend Alexa as you say at her computer. She invited you over under the pretense of needing help cleaning up. But instead she was playing matchmaker. “Girl why?”

“Because, your lonely so why not go for a guy who is actually looking for love? Plus I already got a guy lined up.” She took the mouse from your hand and switched tabs. There showed a remotely attractive guy, slicked back black hair, and dark black eyes. You continued to read his profile, almost as if you weren't already won over by his good looks.

Hi I'm Jung Hoseok! I'm pretty much stuck in here for a bit :( but it would be way better if I had someone to talk too while in here! Trust me I make a amazing boyfriend both in and outside of jail. Please send me a letter!!!

“I mean… he's not ugly…” You say looking at the other pictures he had up. “Wait a minute aren't you a lawyer?? Do you know this guy?”

“First of all, I can't divulge information about my clients. Second of all this conversation is off the books. Third of all yes??” Alexa shrugged smiling at you. “Give him a chance, trust me he's a sweet guy. He just got delt the wrong hand in life. And trust me a small bonus is that he's nearby!” She said rubbing at your shoulder fondly. You thought about it for a moment. Alexa had just gotten into your life and she already saw how lonely you were. Maybe that says something. It's not like you had something to lose if things don't work out…

“Fine… but first mere second I'm creeped out I'm cutting off contact!” You begrudgingly said. Alexa squealed before hugging you close.

“Trust me. You will not regret this.”

🖤

“You have a letter!” Hoseoks head whipped at the sound of a voice. He looked at the man snidely, before getting up and grabbing the letter. It wasn't his lawyers pristine yellowish tinted letters. So who in god's name would've sent him a letter?

He went back to his on the bed spot and opened it up. It was filled with stickers and polaroids. As he looked closer he saw it was pictures of his lawyer Alexa and another woman.

And she was gorgeous.

The stickers were of things he mentioned he liked, like music notes and album covers. Then a letter flew out, and of course it intrigued him. So he opened the letter and began to read.

Hi Hoseok,

I got your contact information from my friend Alexa. Apparently she's your Lawyer?? She maybe lied to me but it's whatever!!

I'm (Y/N), and she told me you we're looking for a friend or maybe even a lover ;)…

This caught his interest greatly and as he continued reading, Hoseok couldn't have been more excited. He was always somewhat lonely so for this to happen when he was at his worst.

It had to be fate.

🖤

It has been a couple of months and Hoseok finally convinced you to come and visit him. So you did, and the jail he was in was huge. It was considerably a supermax prison, so maybe that correlated to it's size. You had to wear jeans and a t-shirt, nothing too revealing and you could only go in with a traditional watch.

Another thing was that they had to make the visit private. Unlike the other women you talked too in the office, they had they're visits with others around in a large room.

This should've been the first sign of what you got into.

A guard led you past a door towards the back of the facility. Alexa stood by the door in the back, and once she saw you she gave you a smile. She walked up too you giving you a close hug. “Okay so, he may seem a bit intimating in person but I swear he's not actually like that.”

“I've literally been talking to him, how could he change that much?”

“Hey I'm just warning you. But I'll be on the other side of that door just in case you want to opp out.” But you nodded and jokingly rolled your eyes. Alexa let out a laugh and then she left signalling some guys down the hall. The door closed and you looked at your watch nervously.

And that anxiousness only increased once the man of the hour walked in.

He had on a set of cuffs on both hands and ankles. The guards with him undid his cuffs. Once he saw you his entire mood changed. He waited for the guards to leave and the door to close before he hurried close to you and gave you a suffocating hug. He then connected your lips, suffocating you some more. Once he pulled away he gave a sheepish smile. “Go ahead and sit down, Alexa gonna get us some privacy.”

“But she told me men were gonna stand there wh-”

“Well things change baby. Listen, I just want to spend all the time we have together, alone.” Hoseok said his mood becoming serious all of a sudden.

You just finally nodded while the two of you sat there for about a minute or two. You could feel Hoseoks eyes trail over you. And you just kept looking away. But then he spoke. “You've really made my life better you know that?”

Finally.

There he was.

The sweet man who'd been talking to you for the last 4 months.

“Aww you don't mean that….”

“I do. I really do. I enjoy talking to you, and just thinking about you, god you plague my mind.” Hoseok said rambling.“Also you look even gorgeous in person.”

“Aww I'd say the same for you. You look really good.” You said trying to at least give him some compliments.

“Well you know I've been working out!” Hoseok said flexing his arms jokingly. You of course laughed, loving his sense of humor.

“I'm actually kind of nervous...”

“Why is that?”

“It's just that, I've never done this! The whole dating a inmate thing, I mean so far it's amazing. But it's just weird, you know?”

“Well, I say it's no different then us meeting on a dating site.” Hoseok says smiling even more at you. He grabs the back of your chair and pulls you closer to his own. “They should be gone at this point, so come on I want to feel you.”

Hoseoks hand rests on your thigh,his hands slowly rubbing at them, bringing you comfort.

“So you never told me what you did to get in here.” You ask looking at Hoseok, as his expression drops. He looks down at the table.

“Well, It was something… I really don't want to talk about it.” You instantly feel bad for even considering asking about it.

“Well we don't have to talk about it… We could do something else. I'm willing to do or talk about anything you want.” You say reaching a hand to touch his arm.

“If you only knew what I wanted to do to you…”

🖤

“God you're so fucking tight!”

Hoseok had you bent over the table in the room as he pounded into you. What turned into a playful conversation with some flirting in-between, turned into Hoseok fucking you like a starved man.

“God you're so beautiful…” Hoseok groans into your ear bringing you back too reality. Your nails dig into the table as Hoseok pushes the small of your back into the table.

His other hand spread your ass cheeks, as he let spit dribble onto your pussy. This only increased the sound of his quick and rough thrusts.

But you begin to feel the hand on your back get hot, and not just a bodily overworking hot, but unreasonably hot. It burned. It burned like all hell.

“Shit cum on my dick baby, I need to feel it…” Hoseok groaned out. You began to try and reach for Hoseoks hand to get it off of you. But that did nothing for you as you cum from Hoseok intense fucking, so does he.

And that's what it takes for Hoseoks to finally let go. He pulls out, taking two fingers and stuffing any cum that dared to come from your hole back in.

“What was that??” You ask trying to catch your breath, as you fix your clothes. “Like it felt like your hand was going to burn through me.”

“Oh I don't know. Maybe you lost your mind from how good I was.” Hoseok joked, fixing his own clothes. His brown jumpsuit is just about drenched with sweat. You laughed with him awkwardly.

Did you really just imagine the sudden rise in temperature coming from Hoseok?

Maybe…

But you're interrupted by a loud bang on the door. “Jung! You got two minutes!” A voice booms outside. You quickly fix your appearance and hair, just as Hoseok does.

“Wait!” He say before quickly digging into his pocket and giving you a paper frog. It's folded using your favorite color of construction paper.“I made it for you! I hope you like it…” Hoseok said looking away for a quick second. He teetered from left and right, his nervousness showing more than ever right now.

You then quickly go to give him a hug and kissing his cheek affectionately. Hoseok smiles, turning to kiss you on the lips quickly. “Hoseok… I love it! Now let's get out of here before they come in and see what we did.”

“Okay Okay! You promise to come see me again?” His tone dropped to a serious level.

“Of course I will.” You said following him out. This was easily the best day of your life.

🖤

Around a week passes and without a single letter or call from Hoseok. It hurts, you really thought the two of you bonded when you finally did visit him. Maybe you creeped him out? Or maybe you were just dumb and he played you for just a quick fuck.

You couldn't figure it out and honestly you'd just stare at the frog he gave you. It seemingly mocked you in the worst way possible.

You get up and head to your small living room, trying to distract yourself you turned on your television.

“Breaking News, Super Villain Jay has broken out of prison and the police are on high alert. If y-” You turn off the television quickly. That's far too harrowing for the moment. That would only make you worry more.

So you go the bathroom and wash your face with some water.

When you walk out of your bathroom you could feel your apartment becoming hotter. Then you see your doorknob, physically turning red and emitting a large amount of heat.

You wouldn't dare touch it. And you watched as it popped out. This was the sign to get away from the door as it opened slowly. You hid behind your small kitchenette, the island hiding your body perfectly. The person wore leather and smelled like smoke and a active fire.

“I know you're here…” A voice taunts as they walked into your living room.

“Where are you…?”

You took this as a time to slowly make your way too the front door and slide your way to the hallway. You could easily point this to being Jay. But what would Jay have anything to do with you?

You called Alexa as you hid under the stairs. But she didn't pick up.

So you tried again.

She didn't pick up.

But you couldn't figure that out as a figure stood over you.

“Hello.~” He said smiling at you. But you didn't stay as you crawled past him and got up going upstairs.

“Fuck! No! No!” You said considering the fact that you couldn't go down and have probably trapped yourself. But hearing someone else's feet quickly behind you, brought you back to at least getting away from Jay.

You made your way upwards towards the roof. You closed the door behind you and locked it with the metal barre connected to the door.

But that didn't hold your assailant.

The door began to melt, a large hole forming in the center. Jay laughed at seemingly your attempt to stop him as he ducked into the hole and came out.

“Why did you run away from me baby?”

You knew that voice… you finally to think deeper than the surface when it came to Jay.

Then it hit you.

Your boyfriend.

This was your boyfriend.

“Hoseok?? You…. you're Jay?!” You said genuinely dumbfounded.

“Yup. Surprise!!” He said coming close to you.

“B-But why?!” You yell moving back towards the edge of the building.

“I've been watching you… always just waiting. Then when Alexa got into contact with you I just knew this would be so easy.” He said approaching you, His hand made is way to your waist, holding you close to him. So Alexa was never your friend… she just used you and led you to getting with him.

“Aww are you upset at her. Don't be, she stuck with me even after I got into jail. That part wasn't planned at all. Then after you visited me, and then allowed me to fuck you. I just knew you were the one. You'd always been the one…” Hoseok touched your forehead with his own, the heat radiating off of him making you sweat profusely

“So… when I felt your hands…”

“Just a little experiment gone wrong. Made me who I am now…” He said raising a hand a flame forming in it. With that flame he showed you a silhouette of the two of you together. You were kissing him… something for sure you'd never do again after finding all of this out. “Look at how happy we could be…. All you have to do is agree to this.”

“Agree to what?”

“To me. To this. To us.” Hoseok said his eyes going wide. They were filled with insanity and all you could do was shake your head no.

“No. No no… Hoseok, Jay I don't fucking know but let me make this clear. I don't want this! I don't want you anymore.” You said jerking away from him. You had no where to go.

“Who said you have a choice? You either come with me… or I burn this entire fucking unit to the ground. Id kill everyone inside. Starting with you.” Hoseok let your waist go as you lost your footing. He grabbed your wrist as you dangled off the side of the 8 floored apartment unit.

“Fine! I'll go with you just please don't hurt me… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” You said beginning to cry, tears cascading down your cheeks. Hoseok smiles at you wickedly as he pulled you up quickly connecting the both of your lips.

“I knew you'd make the right decision…”

[martyfive]

16/12/23

it’s not like i stopped having dreams at all. i was going to bed after 3AM for months waking up after six or seven hours of sleep and still dreaming every night, but i never remembered anything. some blurry pictures haunted me, but i was lucky enough to forget them in the morning. that’s why when i found myself in my old family house with blood on the walls and the floor i knew it was a dream, but a dream so vivid i was actually more bothered by the fact that it was the first story-like dream i had in months than that there was blood all over the place.

yeah, the blood. that house has seen enough of it, but never that much. even when the nose was broken. or when the whole set of red festive dishes was scattered around the kitchen. or after the accident. but we don’t talk about the accident. we don’t.

in a dream there was so much blood i couldn’t tell if it really was the house i grew up in. everything seemed to be the same, but things changed. maybe it was because of the renovation they did after i moved out. i’ve seen the photos. the room i used to sleep in looked horrible, like a piece of a hospital environment that for some reason also had my old stuff and an ugly grey carpet in it. it was now the room my mother used to go to read my embarrassing old diaries and cry in when she missed me most or when the threat of a broken nose was possible again. at least that didn’t change. the threat of a broken nose.

the presence of blood in a dream was somehow connected to the person who used to break noses and not take responsibility for the accidents we don’t have to talk about. and i didn’t know where he was. for some reason i wasn’t scared of him or to find him inside the house for the first time in my life. looking at the blood, i should have been. but i wasn’t.

i also knew what i had to do. the blood needed to be mopped.

someone else was there with me. i couldn’t see their face, but they felt like a friend. it could have been the devil himself, but i knew i had a problem more serious than the devil at that point.

i was walking around the house like it was just another day of my life mentally preparing for the massive cleaning session incoming when my phone rang. it was my mother.

i said, “where are you?”

she said, “he killed seven people.”

i said, “okay.”

she said, “you don’t know the horrible things he did to them. i’ve seen it all. his mother was there. you don’t even need to know about her teeth or her neck. i’ve seen it all.”

i said, “where are you?”

she said, “i’ll be home soon.”

home. i had to clean the tons of blood in a house i grew up in. my mother has called it “home”. i had another name for it. she wouldn’t like it. he was also here. i had to find him.

there was no power and all i had was the flashlight on my phone. i still had an unknown friend with me. the walls and the floor with blood on them, some cleaning stuff, a flashlight and a nameless friend. i took the phone and left to go deeper into the house in a search for a man in the centre of it. he wasn’t even a minotaur in a labyrinth. that was too much of a job title.

i found him right where he was expected to be. in a corner of the library, not easy to be spotted, right where he stored all his expensive tobacco assortment i used to steal from him when he wasn’t around. he looked calm. affectionate, almost gentle. like he was glad to see me. like he was sorry. like it was another quiet morning after the-broken-nose incident. forgive and forget. it’s gonna help you heal. no fucking way.

he was covered in blood.

i said, “what have you done?”

he said, “i deserve all your anger.”

but i had none. i was tired. i had a house to clean up.

i said, “i’m calling the cops.”

he said, “i’m a disappointment.”

i said, “we’ll see.”

the cops came. there were two of them, two young ladies, almost too cheerful for a situation. almost like it was all a stupid dream.

“the house is yours now,” he said before the cops took him away after i declined the laughable offer to put the handcuffs on him myself. “it’s all over. the house is yours. it’s always been.”

they left. i shut the door. it was dark. my faceless friend was waiting for me with the cleaning stuff.

“we should hire the cleaning company,” i said as i put the rubber yellow gloves on. “there’s no way i can do this on my own.”

“no,” the friend said. “you can. and you will. it’s your house now, haven’t you heard? you can sell it, get the money and everything. that’s gonna be awesome, right?”

maybe it was the devil himself after all. the blood was seeping through the cracks of the wooden floor.

“yeah,” i said.

then i woke up. the night was coming to an end. for a couple breath stealing minutes i was stuck in a house with blood on the walls. it was still there. i was still there. cleaning the blood. mopping the floor. waiting for my mother. wondering if she’s gonna lock herself in my old room turned into a hospital ward to cry over a man that broke her nose once or twice and a kid that used to have to calm her down while she was crying.

i suddenly heard the watch on my wrist ticking. it was a quarter to six. i was home.

25/12/23

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 8:

I can tell that it’s gonna be a long road…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

TW: Suicidal thoughts

"Whatever." I mumbled and Dad sat down in front of me.

"Come on, Lizzie. Just one more try." he almost pleaded but I couldn’t care less.

Nothing of what I was doing over the past 2 or 3 weeks was showing any kind of improvement. I couldn’t get up on my own, I couldn’t stand on my own, I couldn’t walk on my own. Nothing worked. Not even with crutches. No muscle memory left as it seemed. The picture they painted, if I only worked hard enough, I would be back on my feet in no time, was just that, a picture. An illusion. The ugly truth was I would never be driving a car. And a race car even less so.

"Lizzie, your physio therapist said you need to make these exercises everyday!" Dad tried again but I just turned my head and looked away.

Why was he even here anymore? After what I’ve said to them? They didn’t deserve my wrath, no one who I lashed out at did. But I couldn’t fake the smiles anymore. I couldn’t fake the optimism anymore. I couldn’t fake my own obliviousness anymore. I will never be able to walk again on my own. I will never be able to get back into a race car. That’s the sad and ugly truth. And they needed to accept it. I accepted it some days ago. After I first lashed out at Mum and Dad and later on at Charles.

"You know what, Elisabeth? I’m done. We all are! You don’t decide anymore. I don’t give a fuck what you want! This? This is not you! The real you would never ever be like this! The real you would never ever give up! The real you would fight! Because that is who you are! You’re a fighter! You fought for everything that you’ve achieved! And that is what you’re going to do right now again! You fight! You don’t want to do this? Well tough luck, because you won’t have any other choice!" I flinched at his harshness but he just lifted me out of my wheelchair and carried me into the middle of the room, then he sat me down on the floor and started to take away all the obstacles around me. The only things he left in front of me were the two crutches. Then he took my wheelchair and drove it to the door.

"If you want to leave this room, it’s going to be on your two legs or you’re crawling. I’ll tell the nurses that no matter what you’re screaming to not come in and help you. I’m sorry to do this to you, Lizzie. But it’s the only way…" and with that he left the room and closed the door behind him. I waited for a minute but he wasn’t coming back in.

"Okay Dad. Very funny. You can come back in now!" I shouted but no reaction "Dad! I got your point okay? I’ll try the exercises!" still no reaction. Did he really leave? And did he really told the nurses to not come in?

"DAD! FOR FUCKS SAKE! IT’S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE!" I yelled but the door remained close "WHAT DO YOU WANT TO ACHIEVE WITH THIS?" the door the new target of my wrath, as I couldn’t look at Dad anymore "YOU PROVED YOUR FUCKING POINT OKAY? NOW COME BACK! DAD!" I screamed at the top of my lungs but it was like the door just absorbed my screams and everyone outside was oblivious to my dilemma.

My dilemma! They didn’t know what it’s like to be in my situation! I was the one nearly dying! I was the one they wanted to pull the plug on! I was the one who couldn’t walk anymore! I was the victim! Not them! They couldn’t understand me! They didn’t even have the slightest idea what I was going through! How much it hurt to just turn my head. Lift my arms. Wiggle my toes! The pain that shot through my spine whenever I tried to get up, push myself out of bed! They didn’t know what I was going through. They just didn’t understand! I started screaming. My life was the one that wasn’t worth living anymore! Not theirs! How could they come in here again and again smiling, telling me that it’s going to be alright! At this point my screaming turned into crying and sobbing, tears streaming down my face. They didn’t know how it was to lose something you can’t replace. The ache I felt in my heart every time I opened my eyes to live another day as a useless being. I wished I would’ve died that day. And if not there then in the hospital. Why didn’t they pull the plug like they planned to? Why didn’t they put me out of my misery?

"Lizzie?" Charles. Because of him I was still here "Come on. Let’s get you out of here…" he whispered and hugged me.

"I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry! For everything I’ve said! I’m so sorry!" I sobbed but he only held me closer.

"It’s okay, ma belle. It’s okay." he whispered and I buried my face in the crook of his neck. Then he got up and I pushed myself off of the ground. I didn’t want to lose his closeness so I hugged him tighter and the next moment we sat down "Open your eyes, ma belle."

I slowly did what he said and he smiled at me, then he looked away and I followed his look. The crutches. In the middle of the room. We were sitting on the bench by the window.

"How… how did we? How did I? Did we walk? Or did you carry me?" I stuttered and he smiled his most beautiful smile.

"You walked, Lizzie." he said and I was shocked "I helped you, but you walked."

"I walked? Like really walking?" I asked and he just nodded "But how?"

"Well, you pushed yourself off of the floor, held onto me and we walked." he said it casually and I felt new tears stinging my eyes. But this time it were happy tears "You did it, ma belle! You walked!"

"Can we try again?" I whispered and Charles nodded, then he slung his right arm around my waist and pulled me to his side, then we got up. It was hard and I felt my muscles creak and ache, but I was determined to make it work.

"Step by step, Lizzie. We have all the time in the world, ma belle!" Charles whispered as I made my first step and after some steps Charles kissed my temple "I’m so proud, ma belle! You can do it! Come on! Just some more steps!" he cheered me on and opened the door for me and we walked out the room together, straight into Dad, who had tears in his eyes as he saw me walking again.

"My little owl!" he said and pulled me gently into his arms "I knew you could do it!"

"I’m so sorry what I said, Dad! I didn’t mean it!" I whispered but Dad just shook his head.

"It’s okay! There is nothing to apologise for!" he said and kissed me on the crown of my head.

"You look horrible, Liz. Any new symptoms? Pain?" JK asked as he pushed my knee up my chest and rotated it to the side.

"No. I just couldn’t sleep. That’s it." I lied and although JK knew me only for a month and a half, he looked at me with a knowing face.

JK, or John Knight, arrived 2 weeks before I could leave the hospital back home in Germany and decided to leave again with me and join me as my personal physio therapist and trainer here in Monaco were I would begin my recovery. He was a funny guy from New Zealand and was one of the few people who would laugh at my dark jokes only to counter with even darker ones. We got along immediately and as he told me he was driving kart for most of his life but had to stop after he tore his ACL once, I knew I wanted him as a personal coach.

"You try that again, Liz." he said and I sighed. Liz. His nickname for me. Because he’s a Kiwi and they apparently shorten everything "What’s going on cuzzie?"

"I just didn’t sleep well!" I said annoyed and JK slowly let my foot down, then he sat up and looked at me for a moment.

"Liz, to heal your body, your soul needs to be healed as well. And whatever is going on in your head, is blocking you from healing. I felt this stiffness in your body twice before and both times you looked like shit and told me you didn’t sleep well. So?" he said and I sat up as well "You can tell me everything, you know? Did something happen? With her?"

After JK and I worked out the first time here in Charles flat and later on Camille came by, he immediately sensed the change in my behaviour and how I tensed up. After witnessing this change happen for some more whenever Camille was around, he asked me when we were alone. I tried to lie, but JK saw right through me, just like he did now.

"No. Not directly. It's… it’s hard to explain." I whispered, swallowing hard, feeling how the words began to mingle in my head.

"Did she do something? Say something?" he asked and handed me a bottle of water.

"Nothing in particular. I mean she doesn’t like me but she only shows it when Charles and no one else is around. But sometimes it’s just the looks she’s giving me, downright hate in her eyes. Then she checks her phone and almost dies of laughter and looks up at me like I’m the funniest person alive for a moment, before the hate returns? At this point I’m 100 % sure she’s texting with her friends about me and my condition…" this was the most I spoke in one go for weeks and it was hard. The words slipped out of my mouth, some completely wrong, some way to fast, others way to slow, some not really understandable. But JK understood and nodded.

"That was a lot. You need a minute?" he asked gently and I nodded "I’ll prepare something to eat."

"I’m not hungry." I said and he shook his head.

"You don’t need to be hungry to eat a meal with all the nutrients you need. You lost weight, Liz. You need to eat more." JK said and got up right as Charles entered the flat.

"I absolutely agree." he said and I rolled my eyes.

"You don’t even know what we were talking about!" I groaned and Charles stepped over and helped me up "Thanks." I mumbled as he helped me on the sofa.

"You need to eat more. That’s what you said, right JK?" Charles said.

"Yep, you got it bruh!" he answered and left for the kitchen.

"Are you okay? You look pale?" Charles asked and sat down next to me.

"Didn’t sleep that good. And my speaking is getting worse I think." I said and he took my hand in his to draw circles on the back with his thumb.

"Can I do something? I feel a little useless." Charles admitted and I looked at him.

"Useless? Charles you basically let me live here, for free, let me use your flat as a gym? You’re anything but useless!" I said and he sighed "Charles! Hey! You’re doing enough, okay?"

"Alright, if you say so." he answers as his phone started ringing, startling me "Shit, I’m sorry Lizzie."

"It’s okay." I said and he checked his phone, as scowl on his face before he silenced the phone and put it back in his pocket "You can answer it. It’s okay!"

"No, it’s Camille, she wants to come over, but I much rather want to just have a quiet evening. Pizza and Brooklyn 99 later on, what are you saying?" he asked and I smiled.

"I would love it. But you and Camille, is everything alright?" I said and he nodded slightly.

"Yeah, sure. It’s just… she’s lately so clingy? You know? And that’s just so annoy… it’s just a little much right now." he sighed.

"You know you can talk to me, whenever you need to?" I said and he nodded again

"I know, ma belle, I know." he said and as I leaned forewords to grab my water bottle I hissed a little in pain "You’re okay? Where does it hurt?"

"It’s nothing, just my calves burning a little from the standing and walking training." I answered and leaned back, sipping some water. Without question Charles took my legs and laid them over his thighs, turned the TV on, some home renovation show, and began to massage my legs. He was kneading every little sore muscle and I melted under his touch, my cheeks turning red as I almost moaned at how good it felt, but especially that it was Charles who was doing it.

Charles POV:

"Alright, brown rice, chickpeas, beans, sweet potato, walnuts, broccoli, avocado and tofu chunks for you. And for us meat eaters, some chicken." JK said as he stepped into the living room with 3 bowls and set them down on the coffee table.

"Looks good, thanks JK!" I said and looked over to Lizzie, who fell asleep "Is she okay? She looks pretty pale and exhausted?"

"She didn’t sleep that well last night." he said and I nodded slowly taking the bowl from him.

"Thanks!" I said and he grinned "What?"

"Oh nothing… don’t look at me like that! Ok, fine. It’s just you and Lizzie? I can feel this deep connection between you guys… it’s not just simply love, no this is more. If someone ever asked me what soulmates looked like, how they act? Well I would point at you guys…" he said and now I was the one blushing a little.

We ate in silence for a while and as I set down my bowl Lizzie mumbled in her sleep a little, before snuggling deeper into the pillows.

"I’d say we’re done for today, let her sleep for another hour or two, but then wake her up otherwise she won’t be able to sleep tonight. And sleeping on a sofa is also not the best for her body, but she’s exhausted so give her a little time. I’ll put her bowl in the fridge, make sure she eats it, paired with some of the pizza I heard about! I’ll be here tomorrow at 8:30 as always." JK said and I nodded and wanted to get up but he held out his hands "No, stay, don’t wake her up, I just bring the dishes in the kitchen and leave. It’s fine!"

"Thanks, JK, seriously. Since you work with her I’ve seen the old Lizzie coming through more often again!" I thanked him and he just smiled.

"That’s my job." he answered but I shook my head.

"You’re doing way more than just your job! Thank you. Like a lot!" I said and with a last smile he left. I could hear him rummage through the kitchen before he came back to grab his bag and said his goodbyes.

I leaned back and looked at Lizzie, her peaceful expression. Snuggled into the cushions, cute little snores every other minute. I massaged her legs a little longer as my phone vibrates again and I saw that Camille called again, so I sent her a quick message, but before I could put the phone away she answered and I rolled my eyes.

I shut my phone off, threw it on the table and leaned back. My look on Lizzie. How her nose scrunched up every now and then, how her chest rises and falls with each breath. She looked peaceful, although at times she scowled a little, before her expression relaxed again.

"What am I doing, hmm Lizzie? God I wish I could talk to you. But how can I talk to you, when you’re the reason for my problem? It’s not your fault, ma belle, not at all. It’s all my fault. I am stupid. So stupid. Camille talks about moving in together, a future together… but I- I don’t love her. I never have. I never will. It’s nice having a girlfriend by my side, someone who supports you whenever I need it, someone who cheers me on at races and is the first one to hug me after. Someone to come home to. But-but I wish that would be you. I mean you always support me. You’re always there for me and the first one to hug me when you’re around. But it’s just… god I want more. I want you. All of you. But at the same time I’m scared that you don’t want me? And if you want me, is it enough? Just you and me. Will it be enough? I can’t lose you. I simply can’t live without you. But if our love isn’t enough, what would happen to our friendship? Are we strong enough to get over it? God Lizzie, you have no idea how much I love you. How in love I am with you… what am I doing? What the hell am I supposed to do? Fuck!" I rambled and let my head fall back on the sofa. Lizzie stirred a bit and I held my breath, did she hear me? I waited some more but she was sleeping and I exhaled carefully. I had to figure out, what I was going to do. But for now, the most important thing was for Lizzie to heal.

The last weeks were hard, I was slowly regaining my strength back, walking without crutches for some steps was possible again, my head wasn’t spinning all the time whenever I did a slightly to fast movement anymore. My speaking wasn’t impeded all the time whenever I wasn’t focusing on it 100%. My lungs were slightly starting to work properly again, I needed the inhalator less and less. Signs that I was slowly on a good way, physically. But mentally was a different story, the newspapers writing stories about me, from how I would be bedridden forever to how I would be paralysed for the rest of my life. Others writing that it wasn’t all that bad, that I was already back in the race car. Several fan accounts spinning different stories from me being already dead, to me only faking everything to gain sympathy. I tried to stay away from all media as far as possible. I only updated my Instagram every other week, saying I’m on a good way to being my old self again. Setting the records straight the way I wanted it to be perceived by the world. I tried to believe my own words so much that I even lied to my family and friends, saying I was fine, I would be back in no time. All lies. Just to not confront myself with the ugly truth. The path ahead was still long and bumpy. Seeing all the nicer posts from fan accounts with encouraging tributes of how great I was, was nice in the beginning, but as I kept on trying to be that great self again, with no success, I had to realise that these posts brought me down. Deep down. JK, said that I had to forget about the past and focus on the way ahead. Stop checking but also posting on Instagram. Just concentrate on myself, no one else. To achieve that he suggested to reset completely. Alone. Just him and I. Doing my work outs. Bringing me back. Physically but also mentally. Meditation. Silence. He saw how drained I was. How this constant smiling and saying that all would be good was brining me down. But most of all he saw how Camille’s mere presence was making me sick, mentally as well as physically. He saw how I became more anxious whenever she was around, how I always tensed up and how I refused to eat when she was here. JK didn’t say anything, because he knew in this environment I wouldn’t be honest anyway, but he soon realised that the days were I looked the worst in the morning, all tensed up, almost not able to speak properly for the whole day, were always ones when Camille was here the day before and probably was alone with me for some time as well. Whenever Camille showed up to spend time with Charles, she made it clear more than once that she want me gone. Out of Charles flat, but mostly out of his life. I was trying everything to be nice to her. But it didn’t change a thing. She hated me. Her friends hated me. But Charles still seemed to be happy with her. And that was what’s important. He was happy. So I played my part in smiling whenever she was around, smiling whenever her name came up. But I only had little energy left in me, so I had to leave. That’s why when JK proposed the idea of a cabin in the mountains, I wasn’t opposed at all. I had to leave Monaco.

"But I thought the doctors said that the fresh ocean air was good for your lungs?" Charles asked and I nodded.

"It is, but the air in the mountains at this time of the year is also pretty good." I answered.

"But why? Why do you want to leave?" Charles sounded a little hurt and I sighed.

"It has nothing to do with you, Charlie bear!" I said, only with your girlfriend who can’t leave me alone for 5 minutes, I thought. "It’s too hectic here, Charles. Too many people, too much trouble in the streets. It’s all too fast, too loud, too much to process for my brain."

"But can I visit you?" he asked and I nodded.

"Of course! You can come as often as you want! I just need to stay away from this fast and hectic world for a while. I need to reset. Calm down and focus on my health, not just physical, also mental. Everything I’ve read and seen recently is not really helping me on my way… so I need to leave. A cabin in the alps, away from the buzzing life here, away from the buzzing life at home." I said and he nodded.

"But you’re staying for my birthday, right?" Charles asked after a while and I smiled at him.

"Of course I’m staying for your birthday, Charlie bear!" I answered and he smiled back.

Walking into the restaurant, without crutches, wearing nice clothes, nothing too fancy but still a big change from the sports shorts and sweaters I wore the last month, felt great. Charles held me close to him, although I said more then once that he should rather walk with Camille and I would hold onto Joris or Daniel, but Charles insisted and Camilles look would’ve killed me in an instant, if looks could kill. As we sat at our table and the first round of drinks was served Charles cleared his throat and we looked all at him.

"Okay, so I’m not one for big speeches, so I’ll make it short. Thanks for being here tonight. There is not much that I wish for my birthday but having my closest friends with me. Especially having you by my side, my beautiful Lizzie! Walking again! Cheers to that! And thanks again for coming!" Charles said and the whole table cheered, the whole table besides Camille and her 3 girlfriends Sarah, Emilie and Laura. They looked annoyed, Camille looked almost furious. Riccardo pulled me to his side and smiled.

"I guess she thought Charles meant her, when he started to say he’s having his beautiful… Lizzie by his side!" he chuckled and I punched his arm "I’m sorry! But her look! That was just amazing!"

"Stop it Ric! I don’t want to start a fight with her, not tonight!" I answered and he nodded "Thank you very much!"

As the first dishes arrived Pierre next to me poked my arm and I turned to him.

"Lizzie, do you have a minute?" he whispered and I nodded, he helped me up and we walked away from the table to one of the booths "I need to show you something."

"Okay? Why do you look like someone died?" I said and he just shook his head and handed me his phone. It was an Instagram account, "Camille_ X_Charles", I looked up at him confused "Pierre, there are a bunch of fan accounts? I don’t really care about them?" I laughed.

"No, Lizzie, check out the latest post…" he said and his look made me feel uneasy.

I took his phone again and clicked on the post from earlier today, it was a video, a video of me, me and Charles on his yacht in the harbour. I remembered that day, it was shortly after I came to Monaco, when Charles asked me to spent the day on the yacht, away from the constricted apartment. As we wanted to leave, Camille called and insisted on coming with us and so we waited for her. Knowing she would come with us triggered not only my growing anxiety whenever she was around, it also triggered my brain functioning not properly, so when I spoke to Charles it was a lot of incomprehensible sounds mixed with words coming out of my mouth. Charles knew about this symptom, as a result of my head injury, and calmed me down. Helped me out of it. But someone was filming it. Filming how I sat there, panicking, breathing ragged, silent tears streaming down my face and shaking. Making weird sounds. And Charles kneeling in front of me, comforting me. And then the top it all off, as he hugged me, my shirt rode up my back a little and revealed a part of the scars on my lower back. I watched the video a second time. The video had already half a million views, thousands of likes, comments and shares. I clicked on the comment section and Pierre tried to take his phone away from me, but I slapped his hand away.

Pierre snatched his phone away.

"I wanted to show you the video! Not for you to read the comments!" he said and I looked down. I felt my breathing growing shallow. My vision became blurry. I wanted to get up. I felt sick.

"What’s going on?" Joris asked and Pierre shook his head "Lizzie? Are you okay?"

"Bathroom. Now." I pressed out and they helped me up and brought me to the bathroom. I walked in, got into a stall, locked the door and sat on the toilet lid. I tried to stable my breathing but I couldn’t. Tears streaming down my face. I started shaking. Who films something like that and posts it then? Does it really look like I’m drunk? Do people really think that I was drunk like that?

"Lizzie? I’m coming in, okay?" I heard the voice of Marta, Riccardos girlfriend, and the door opened. I heard the sounds of the restaurant before it got quiet again, then slow steps to the stall I was sitting in.

"I’m okay." I whispered and tried to take deep breaths.

"I don’t think so. I saw you Lizzie… you’re having a panic attack, I think." Marta said and I sighed.

"Probably. But it will be gone in no time." I answered and Marta chuckled.

"Alright, but as long as it takes, I’ll stay here with you, okay? I don’t want to see how Camille and her flock of dummies watch something on their phone and cackling like it’s the funniest thing ever." she said and I laughed quiet.

"I thought you were friends?" I asked in a joking way and Marta huffed.

"Friends? Me and Camille Deveraux? No. Not in this life. I never liked her and lately as I saw what a fake bitch she is… no, definitely not!" she answered laughing "I just wished Charles would see how fake she is! And most of all, how horrible she is to you… don’t even think of denying it! We all know… we all but Charles!"

"He has to focus on his driving, this season is not going that well for him, then COVID, me not driving, then the accident… he has a lot going on and Camille seemed to be helpful in cheering him on at the tracks at times, supporting him and putting his mind away from all the other shit at times. So it’s okay…" I whispered but Marta huffed.

"No it’s not okay! Not the way she’s treating you! I’m so sorry that we all noticed it this late, we should’ve said something way earlier to him!" she said and I opened the door.

"No, please! Don’t tell him! I don’t know how many times I’ve already said it to Joris and Riccardo! But please! He needs to focus on the rest of season!" I pleaded and she just smiled at me.

"You and Charles. The way you support each other, always have each others back. That is admirable. How you put the other first, always. But Lizzie at some point you have to tell him the truth… he’s dating a horrible, horrible person who makes your life a living hell at times. Don’t look at me like that! I’m not Charles, your puppy eyes don’t work on me!" Marta laughed and I pouted a little.

"Maybe you’re right, maybe you all are. But it has to wait. It’s his birthday. I’m not ruining that! And he’s in the middle of the season, he needs no distraction from outside. But yeah, I will have a talk with him when everything has calmed down a bit…" I sighed and Marta took my hand.

"Now come on. Let me wipe those tears away and then let’s go back out!" she smiled and I nodded.

Charles immediately knew that something was up and was in an instant by my side.

"Ma belle? What happened?" he asked and tilted my chin up to look at him "Were you crying?"

"I’m okay, Charlie. It was all a bit loud and hectic and that triggered a bit of my anxiety! But I’m fine! Really!" I lied and smiled at him.

"If it’s too much, we can leave?" he asked and I shook my head.

"Absolutely not! It’s your birthday and we celebrate! Come on! It’s the first time in months that we can be outside and in public! We have to enjoy it!" and with that I walked back to the table and sat down next to Pierre who looked apologetic at me.

"Stop! I’m okay!" I whispered and he shook his head.

"I shouldn’t have shown you that post! I just thought you should know… that the people saw that and are jumping to conclusions! You really should tell people what’s really going on!" he said and I looked down in my lap.

"No. I don’t want that. Not now. I want to come back stronger than before and then I’ll tell the world what was happening." I said and Pierre pulled me into his side.

"You’re the strongest person I know, Lizzie!" he whispered and I smiled.

Charles sat down next to me, followed by Camille and the servers brought even more food on the tables. I laid some salad and antipasti on my plate and started to eat as Charles looked at me.

"Please tell me, that’s not all you’re gonna eat? There’s pasta, pizza, focaccia! And you just grab salad and some cheese?" he said and I sighed. Not the discussion about my eating habits again "Ma belle, JK said you need to eat more!"

"I’m eating as much as I can!" I defended myself but Charles just rolled his eyes.

"You loved pasta and pizza! But for some weeks now you’re not eating it anymore! You’re not eating much to be honest?" he whispered and I sighed.

"Charles, since the accident I lost my appetite a little! It’ll be back! The doc said it’s normal!" I tried to reassure him but he didn’t seem to be convinced, he wanted to say something as Camille started to talk to him and for once I was happy for her presence.

After a while Charles got up and sat next to Joris and Daniel and I sat next to Pierre who was in a deep conversation with Arthur and Lorenzo, I wanted to get up but Camille blocked my way.

"It’s good to see that you can look like a normal person, after all I’ve seen from you the last month! Nice from you to wear decent and appropriate clothes in public at least… oh and good for you, to finally take care of your eating habits! I didn’t wanted to mention it, but you sure gained some weight over the last months, you want to stay in shape if you want to drive next year again, if there’s a new season coming. On the other hand, well, who knows if you can drive ever again, right?" she sneered and walked over to her friends. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes for a second, when I opened them I saw Riccardo and Joris standing on the left, looking like someone punched their guts. Where Joris looked incredibly apologetic towards me, Riccardo was fuming, he started to make his way to Camille but I got up, my feet wobbling but I managed to stand in front of him.

"Ric! Stop!" I said but he shook his head.

"No, Lizzie it’s enough! God I’ve known what a bitch she can be! But that’s too much!" he wanted to walk around me but I grabbed his arm "Lizzie, let go of me! I’m sick of her treating you like this, thinking no one of us figures it out!"

"Please! It’s Charles birthday! Please don’t do this! I’m okay! I don’t take her words for anything!" I tried to calm him down, Joris next to me looking between us.

"If it doesn’t hurt you, why do you have tears in your eyes?" he whispered and I just sighed.

"It’s Charles birthday! We’re not ruining it because of her! Period! Riccardo, I really appreciate what you want to do! Really! But I can handle it! Joris, take him to the bar or whatever!" I said firmly and Joris nodded.

"If you’re not telling him, what she’s doing then I will!" Riccardo said and looked at me.

"I will tell him! But not now, not in the near future! He needs to focus on his career, I have to focus on my health! As soon as everything calms down a bit we will talk, okay?" I tried my best to convince him and with a last huff he left in the direction of the bar.

"Jo, please take care that he’s not doing anything impulsive!" Joris just nodded and followed him.

I walked over to Marta and Shima and sat down.

"What did she do now?" Shima asked and I cocked and eyebrow "She said something to you, you teared up, Joris and Riccardo looked like they want to kill her but you stopped them. So?"

"She was her usual, sweet self! Nothing to worry! I’ll leave on Sunday, then she’s out of my life anyway!" I shrugged and took a piece of Focaccia but in the next moment I regretted it already and put it down on the plate in front of me. As I grabbed my empty glass Riccardo and Joris came back and sat down next to Marta and me. Riccardo was on his phone while Joris filled my glass with water.

"What the actual fuck? Did you see who commented?" Riccardo in front of me was furious again and showed his phone to Marta and then Joris and Shima.

"I’ll kill them!" Shima wanted to get up but I just grabbed her arm "No you don’t understand! Lizzie, her…"

"Her minions commented and liked the video! Probably shared it as well! I know! I don’t care. You guys stop it now! Charles is coming over and we’re not going to ruin his birthday!" I said sternly but Riccardo got up.

"I can’t stay in a room with them without calling her out, I’m sorry Lizzie! Enough is enough!" he said and as Charles approached us he left the table and walked straight out of the restaurant.

"What happened?" Charles asked and looked after Riccardo.

"We uhm- we had a fight!" said Marta apologetic and got up "I’m sorry Charles! I’ll go and look after him!" and with that she left as well.

"Okay? Awkward…" Charles said and Joris just shook his head.

"Excuse me." he said and left the table as well.

"What is going on?" Charles asked me and Shima and she just shrugged her shoulders.

"I don’t know, Charles. But I think it’s now time for your birthday cake." she said and followed Joris.

"Why is everyone so weird tonight?" he said and I sighed.

"Maybe we have to relearn how to behave in public again?" I laughed and Charles just nodded before he laughed as well.

"You’re probably right!" he said right as Shima and Joris walked out with Charles birthday cake.

After we were all singing for him he pulled me close to him.

"The last time we didn’t fight!" he whispered and I thought back to my birthday "So now it’s only fair if your starting of and I chime in at the end!"

"It’s your cake! At least let’s do it together!" I answered and we began to blow the candles out together.

"You know you can always come back? Always, you hear me?" Charles whispered as he hugged me tight "And we will text as much as possible! And FaceTime! And whenever I have the time I’ll come and visit you!" he kissed my cheek and I pulled away.

"I know, I know! It’ll be okay, Charlie bear!" I answered and he pulled me back into his arms.

"I’m just so used to you being here! I loved having you here! I’ll miss you so much, it’s going to feel so empty without you!" he said and I smiled.

"It’s not going to be empty, you have Camille!" I said and he sighed.

"Yeah…" he sounded bothered somehow "That’s true."

"Lizzie? Are you ready?" JK said as he appeared behind me.

"Yeah, I’m ready!" I whispered and hugged Charles one last time tight. As I let go of him, Charles looked at me with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, they remained sad, cold almost.

"Take care, ma belle!" he said and I nodded.

"We will text every day!" I said and he smiled.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise!"

After one last kiss on my forehead I walked to the car, I got in and opened the window.

"Good luck in Portimaõ, Charlie bear!" and with that JK started the car and drove off. In the side mirror I saw Charles walking on the street waving and watching us drive off, before he disappeared as we turned left.

"It’s going to be good for you, Lizzie. You finally can let go of all the negativity. Be true to yourself and don’t fake a smile every time someone asks you how you are!" JK said and I nodded as I watched how he was navigating us through the narrow streets of Monaco, the place I called my second home. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. This was the right choice.

"You really think I should do it? It’s going to hurt some people I think? So should I really just post it and be good with it?" I asked and JK nodded.

"It’s saying goodbye to everything that brought you down. It’s being honest about your feelings. It’s a new start. Post it and be done with the past." he answered.

I looked at my phone in my lap, the caption I wrote, the picture JK took. I closed my eyes for a second and clicked on share and waited until the post was uploaded. Then I deleted Instagram off of my phone.

———————————————��————————

Little Note:

That's it, chapter 8 is out - seems like Lizzie’s road to recovery is really a looong one 🙈

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!!

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English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @alittlebitofbooksandmagic

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram.

[lv-tangle-universe-blog]

The whole sketch sheet is complete, finished shaded, and more. I spent too much time on this... Of course, when I took the picture.It's been a week or more since it been done, i thought it'd be fun to try to write the story a little bit while posting the other pictures. Since it's a little undercooked now, I fear I burned it... These next words are more of closing thoughts...

(Game over, she swore she saw those words before up there. In the blackness of the void, but they're a lot more sugary than last time, last time? The memory slowly came to rear its ugly ahead. Oh yeah, this happened before.... But back then, there was more of a red glare. This was a soft, sugary game. Of course, the game over would be different, but the words underneath it... Insert four quarters to continue, rummaging around the pockets. Those are normally filled with the brim of code data to help her, to find nothing. Of course, she looks down at her body. Seeing the sugary facade slowly go first pixel by pixel, revealing the horrible truth underneath, and pretty soon that will go to... But why is it so painfully slow? The deletion process was a lot faster last time,... A sigh escapes her lips. She has accepted this situation... There's nothing here, but a void of black and a mistake, and the words...

She figured she would reflect on the past. Well, she's here to review everything, as her thoughts scramble for panic that she's trying to suppress, a memory popped up a good memory of the twins, helping her decorate and make her own little garage area sense she didn't have one,... She saw what happened to road blasters from the highest point of the bleachers quickly running down to her siblings that she loved even though she caused chaos on the track whenever she was on, she still cared about them, she tried to yell at them, tried to get them out of the game, but they wouldn't listen, "i should've drive them out myself. Or at least put myself in the player position so the game would still run, i guess I can't change it now. I hope wherever they are, they're okay. ".... A clunking sound could be heard to roll out.The void, like a quarter, was being inserted. She looked up at the words, Insert three quarters to continue,... She stared at it confused, didn't it say four?, penny for your thoughts munch?, with a huff, she tried to think of something else for a bit since the thought of turbo time is so painful,

Vanellope...oh... I wish I would have been nicer to my little sister... Teach her how to glitch more effectively... at least keep her safe... I couldn't even do that..."If it makes up for anything, I am sorry, my little glitch," she mumbled... Another quarter sound can be heard, 2..."So I guess this self reflection is helping somewhat. "... A bit of desperation finally seeps into her code, encouraging her to think of something else as the last bits of pixels fade from the sugary facade. Revealing an inverse coloration of turbo, looking down at herself, she is reminded that she is just a copy of a shadow of a man.That is so selfish it hurts...

Now, thinking about it, what is she even supposed supposed to be... Everyone tells her that she has removed the code, but no one tells her what that code is... Or what it is, since she's not a her anymore... Can she even keep that monocle... She doesn't see why not since she has nothing else to show her identity... thought it occurred to her. She never thought of what she's supposed to be doing. Or what her code is telling her to do, thinking back. She always finds joy in driving and causing chaos for the other drivers around her throwing stuff, knocking over barrels, she had to keep that on the down low for sugar rush, and it drove her mad, when getting those sugar cubes during a race? Oh, it was heaven either to wait until an affordable opportunity to screw over as many racers as possible or do it right away. Just for the heck of it and to see the look on their faces... I'm an enemy racer, of course, I take joy out of seeing a player, spin out... Whoa, where did that come from... She blinked a couple of times. It must have been her code that finally reached out to her to tell her what she was... An enemy racer,ha, everything makes sense now... her want to ruin her game, other games just for the sake of screwing over the players. She can kinda see why her code was kind of removed now, but to go to extremes, to completely crash, sugar rush was a little overboard, "i guess taking things too far is kind of my specialty"..."And besides, the game wouldn't be fun without some form of antagonist,"... She laughed and giggled, finding pure joy, just the thought looking up at that face behind the screen with an angry scowl. On their face, mad at her for ruining their fun time... Then, the realization hits her. She's just deleted code. The code itself had to reach out to the spreadsheet of turbo and invert the colors just to give her a model..."i guess in a way I was doing my job, hehe," her laughter died down, that doesn't excuse her actions, not even close, causing a pit in her stomach, the quarter sound hitting the bank plays again...1...

She started to cry a little... She couldn't think of anything else that she wanted to reflect on, only her anger on turbo and what he had done. It makes sense now. On why is she so angry at him all the time. She's supposed to be a rival or a straight-up. Antagonist to him... It doesn't give her an excuse to be so mean to him. She could have been better about it, then again, given what he has done to Sugar Rush. She should've knocked him in the head until he passed out, but instead, she thought she would be the better person and work alongside him to keep herself safe... She couldn't even guarantee that she wouldn't be erased... So half of his actions did fall upon her to do... All for what... Attention that she's probably never gonna get... That word came up again... Attention... Does it even matter?... The players are gonna hate her anyway... Maybe because she saw the ego in him growing and did nothing about it... If she did do something, He would just probably ignore her or call her names, throw her in a corner, and forget about her... Maybe she's mad at him for being such a selfish monster... No, that's being a hypocrite... Cause she was a monster herself... She wanted this goal so bad that she was willing to hurt herself for it... Well, that's not a healthy thought process... And it clearly shows on her precious lowrider...huh... "I guess I have a problem. Maybe if I asked ralph for help, he would help me to?".... She thought about it... ralph did say there was a support group for bad guys... And under some technical terms, she is a bad guy... Maybe they could help... That's if... She was still alive... She slowly looks down in despair...

Half of her actual body is gone... But the sound of a quarter filled in the space as her head snapped up, the screen was going bright... And she can see, it's starting to sparkle, like the sugar cubes, she tried to make out something in the brightness, and she swears she could see mister lickwhack but she wasn't able to get much details before something jabs into her from her back, regenerating the sugary facade, and everything else in a blink of an eye, knocking her out, slowly wiping her memories of this experience, only keeping the important stuff, before everything going bright again,... Press start)

This was mostly inspired by the game over fan Fics that I came across. If I ever figure out how to link text, I will put them here..

[vent-channel]

I hate being autistic I’m not gonna lie.

Today it was leavers. I only go into school for exams and I can’t handle assembly halls so I wasn’t there. My friends were though. And they sent plenty of pictures on the group chat of them in the fields after shirt signing, and them in the park after school.

Why can’t I be fucking happy like that? Why don’t I get to do a normal school life? Why don’t I get to do leavers assembly and shirt signing? And it’s not as simple as just going in even though I hate it. At first I was happy I never had to go back to it, but I’m becoming disconnected from my friends. I’m lonely. And I feel like I’m missing out. I always feel like I’m missing out.

Am I jealous? I feel a bit like a bad person complaining about my friends happiness. It seems like they don’t even miss me. I missed them, when they were not at school.

I got therapy and an autism diagnosis and basically got told my life will fucking suck forever but it’s fineeee because I can learn to manage it.

I’m missing school and my parents can’t just tell me to get over it and go because I need an education because I will sit in the toilets and cut myself until I feel dizzy and call them to pick me up. Whenever I go to that place I feel sick. I feel like anybody would jump me if I’m not cautious enough. They probably would, if there were not consequences, most people there have a disgusting moral compass.

I wish I was still suicidal? Can someone give me less fucking reasons to live because I have far too many. I hate that I’m technically getting better because I’m getting worse. Now the damage is irreversible and irreparable but at least I’m recovering, right?

I’m so lonely. Whenever my friends even look at me and wave I get so happy I internally shut down so I can’t return the enthusiasm. I’ve realised though that I’ll always be the ones following them around. They won’t walk to catch up to me, they won’t invite me to conversation. I don’t know if it’s my own insecurities but it really really feels like they don’t want me there or don’t realise I am there. I feel like a pity friend, I’m only there because I’m nicer than the rest of the school population but I’m nowhere near as cool and confident as the rest of them.

I can’t handle it. I’m naturally self-centred. I often switch between feeling like the best person and the whole conversation should revolve around me to feeling like everyone hates me probably because I’m so selfish and ugly and naturally disgusting. My expressions don’t fit on my face, I’m constantly depressed. I don’t even share many interests with them anymore.

I was at a local comic con a few weeks ago. I met up with my ‘con friends’ who I rarely see. I only stayed for a while because of my fucking autism again I’m missing out, but they seemed so sad when I left. One of them made a TikTok with me in it. We took a photo together. And when they were sad I left I wanted to cry because that’s so kind. They wanted me around? Me?

I’m going to a birthday party for one of my main friends on Saturday. He asked me if I was coming so I did because of course I want to be there. But does he even fucking want me there? I said I’d invite them over in the summer, do they even want to come? My other friend says he’ll sign my shirt if I come in tomorrow lunch, but I’m so depressed I’m not even sure I want to go. Now all I want to do is lie in bed and fucking eat gross shit and other stuff.

This has sent me into a super bad mood and idk what to do. Lowkey wanna relapse but it’s not gonna happen.

I’m so lonely. All my bonds are fading away. I’m so so so lonely.

I’m sick of fucking sitting in my bed, but it’s my favourite thing to do.

All this just because my friends took some pictures looking happy. I’m fighting the urge to just leave the group chat. I can’t let these stupid insecurities and instability show itself to others. I never tell anyone irl these things. Not even my therapist will hear about this. I’m ashamed and I fucking hate having and talking about my feelings.

Love y’all enjoy this bs lol x

[thisisyourprincipalspeaking]

It’s like white people seeing friends and family be racist yet trying to justify it.///

A good looking white man will always get a pass. Thats why some fans are desperately trying to prove it is PR. They need an excuse as to why Chris is associated with her. Once it is all done they can say it was PR, he was forced into it, poor rich white man had no choice, and then they can go back to liking him openly.

All these people hate her (as they should) for being associated with her racist friends and her doing some questionable poses in pictures but apparently Chris gets a pass, even though he is associated with the same people? He's invited the same people into all his homes multiple times, he has spent time with her friends in Portugal, his close friends have spent time with her and her friends, and most importantly he has stated he's married to her. He threw his own fans under the bus for her.

If people actually truly did care about racism then it shouldn't matter if this is PR, they should be just as angry at Chris and not wanting to be a fan of someone like that. Otherwise their "hate" of racism is just as performative as Chris' activism. PR shouldn't be the excuse to be okay with his association with racists. Everyone has choices no job should be worth fake falling in love with a racist for, especially when you have millions in the bank and can afford to say no. He wasn't going to lose all his millions and he wasn't going to lose ALL job opportunities no matter how much certain blogs like to push that idea. Could he have lost a few jobs...sure, but he wasn't going to lose all opportunities. This is a white man in Hollywood who was well liked, he was on top of the food chain, he would have gotten more opportunities than a POC that is more talented than him.

Right now some fans who believe this is PR and are waiting for it be proven that it is PR so they can go back to openly supporting him again are making it seem like they actually don't care about the racism at all. It was just one of the excuses to hate her because that is more viable excuse than just hating her just because. If they were really bothered by the racism than they wouldn't be hoping it was Pr so they can go back to supporting him, they'd be done with him just as much as they were always done with her.

It's okay to admit that racism isn't the key reason why you hate her or that you dont care about it all. Because racism is actually too important and serious matter for it to be weaponized as an excuse to justify your hatred for a girl your favorite white actor married. If you're gonna support him no matter what then racism didn't matter to you in the first place. PR does not excuse the fact he, his family and friends have been spending time with racists for the course of 2.5 years. Just like you cant actually vote for trump and say you're not racist, you cant spend over 2 years with racists whether PR or not, claim you're married to them and not be considered racist. Racists are the types of people he's okay being associated with whether because of work or because his own feelings, either way he had a choice and its clear what he chose, so that makes him just as bad as them.

It's crazy to me how many excuses get made for a white man who has so many privileges, when POC wouldn't get the same treatment. People will continue thirsting over this man, supporting him by spending time and money watching him, making excuse after excuse for him, blaming it on forced PR. Makes me wonder how many would do that for a man of color who'd took the same position as Chris?

i definitely agree with you that it's astounding how a good looking white man, or even an ugly rich white man, will get pass after pass.

i understand the frustration about what is seemingly the reason behind many fans' disgust with his wife but i can only speak for myself. i have had a few private conversations with others several months ago (pre-wedding) debating whether or not it would be "better" if this entire situation and marriage were to be revealed as a pr stunt.

the consensus is: it doesn't. there are nuances in each of the situations that make it different but nothing that makes it better.

[dnickels]

as someone from northern usa who’s considering moving i would love to hear more about the culture shock you experienced if you’d like to share

I have to begin with a few caveats, which is that I am making sweeping generalizations that will probably not hold true across race/class/gender lines, or in all situations, etc. but in my experience, as a lifelong Houstonian who spent significant time in places including Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, people in the Gulf Coast south are much more open to being friendly with strangers than people further north. Waving and making conversation with people you may not know but see often is the norm. A stranger on the bus or in line might comment on your haircut, tattoos, and start up a conversation. People might join you at a table at an outdoor coffeehouse for a little chit-chat. Generally if you can prove you are cool, open to low-stakes friendly small-talk, you can get pretty far even with people like cashiers or servers.

In comparison i found northern people to be pretty hostile across the board. Just not warm the same way. I realized that they never meant anything by it, but I'd be out on a walk and wave at my neighbors only to get stared at with disgusted confusion. I'd make a remark about the weather at checkout and be answered with a confrontational "OK?". Even my coworkers took a long time to warm up to me. I was pretty hurt and confused about why all my attempts to make polite conversation fell totally flat. I tried to tell a guy without an umbrella on the street that rain was in the forecast and he just straight up scoffed at me. A housemate in Massachusetts told me "When I met you I didn't know why you were being nice all the time, but now I know it's because you're nice." I'm not even that nice! I had another Mass housemate ask if I was angry at them because I was sitting out on the porch enjoying myself after work-- all these houses had porches and not a single person came out to sit on them. Like yes, there was a discharge of firearms across the street but that was an unusual circumstance (heavy drinking, frat boys). No one got hurt. The weather's nice, the vibes are good, why not sit outside and wave at people?

To this day I can't stand it when people want something from me but won't offer even a perfunctory "good morning" and just launch straight into their purpose. Say hello to me! If I get to work and people start immediately on work conversations I will stop them and make them go through a "Good morning, how are you?" exchange because god damn it, there has to be rules! Be courteous to me!!!

I also find that southern people are much more likely to couch their criticisms more gently or just not remark on something they think is ridiculous/stupid/ugly, whereas northern people will absolutely let you fucking know they hate whatever xyz thing you're doing/wearing. Funny example: I was part of an outdoor walking tour in Mass when two local guys came up and started openly gawking at the very idea of a historic walking tour. "What is this? Some kind of class?" One then looked at me and said "Well, don't have too much fun!" in a disgusted tone. It was hilarious.

Again, there are jerks in Houston (and plenty of bigots and racists) so I don't want to paint too rosy a picture, and the character of Htown specifically is change rapidly due to immigration from within the United States, but I found the rules were pretty similar in other southern states I've since worked in or passed through.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.54 Flames...literally

Though I didn't own much, downsizing my life turned out to be much harder than I anticipated. I could only take a few pictures and had to decide what items from my desk and dresser I could part with and leave behind. How many skin care products and colognes did one man need? In the grand scheme of things, the decision was like splitting hairs but still quite difficult to make. I had a routine, and those things were part of that routine. Living somewhere else was one thing, but upsetting the routine was a different flavor of cow's milk. But I eventually made my selections and arrived back home before Sophia. Unfortunately, I didn't make it back in time to implement my secret plan, and she walked in on me scrambling.

Even in her work uniform, she took my breath away, though she looked kind of tired. She sniffed the air and said something smelled good. Since the cat was out of the bag, I went ahead and explained.

"Hi! Uhh...So like, I know it's super early, and no one has dinner at 3:00, but I wanted to do something special and have a meal ready for you."

She flashed that beautiful smile that always tore me into pieces and sat at the table.

"Awwwww! That's so sweet! I'm so tired I can only dream of eating right now," she said. "I'm sorry. Does that ruin your plan?"

"Not at all! I just got started like ten minutes ago, so that's perfect. Get some rest. I'll be done by the time you wake up."

Her kiss on my forehead left a tender warmth on my skin as she disappeared into the bedroom to nap. I resumed preparing our dinner and couldn't help but feel a surge of joy coursing through me. The thought of being able to see her beautiful face every day, to support her in any way possible, filled my soul with an overwhelming sense of happiness, so much so I almost forgot why exactly I feared this for so long. Almost. A few concerns still lingered in the back of my mind. Moving in happened so randomly and haphazardly. I wouldn't blame anyone for questioning my judgment because the whole situation was absolutely insane. But through it all, I took solace in the fact that I was not alone. Sophia and I were in this together, ready to tackle the challenges that lay ahead.

I expected her nap to last longer, but she woke up and I was still not finished with dinner. Her shower bought me a few more minutes, and by the time she came out and sat with me, I was in the home stretch. When I inquired about her day, she described it as exhausting. Apparently, the change in season always caused an influx of patients, and they were short staffed, so she had to do three times the work.

I don't know if I was too into her story or what, but I definitely was not paying attention to my task. Suddenly, a huge flame shot up from the pan, and I ducked.

I thought about Maira and how quickly that situation escalated. My face was still pretty hot as I shielded myself, and I was afraid I had lost my eyebrows.

Sophia dashed to me.

"Luca! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Are my eyebrows okay??"

She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"Your eyebrows are intact, babe."

"Thank Watcher."

I turned back to the stove to continue cooking—more carefully that time.

"You know," she began,"...when you said I could get meal service, I thought that meant you could actually cook."

"My hand slipped!! I added a splash too much sauce. It's fine. You'll see."

"Mmm hmm."

She teased me about my cooking skills and fearing for her safety. We laughed and joked our way through completion, and it felt so good. It felt right, and I filed that moment away for when the doubt and fear reared its ugly head again.

As I placed the food on the table, I noticed I instinctively made a vegetarian meal. That's when it occurred to me I never asked if she had any dietary restrictions or concerns.

"I should have asked sooner, but is there anything you don't eat?"

"Oh, yeah," she said. "Thanks for asking. I'm lactose intolerant."

Great. I went from one restricted household to an equally restricted household. At least she ate meat. But no milk? That would be tricky.

The food had disappeared from our plates a while ago, but we were still sitting at the table, talking and laughing. I loved how we could discuss literally everything. True, there were still things we didn't know about each other, but we were past that initial getting to know you phase where every hang out turned into a game of Twenty Questions.

"I was just thinking about how you used to complain about your mom waking you up to cook breakfast," she said. "Look at you now!"

I think I blushed. I could only imagine what she must have thought of me in the early days of my young adult life.

"You remember that? You must have thought I was a spoiled brat or something."

"I may have rolled my eyes."

"I'm so glad I ran into you that day."

"Me too."

[paisholotus]

Give Love

Shuriri x black fem reader

Summary: You all spend your first Christmas together.

Translations: Sthandwa( My Love) IKrisimesi emnandi. Uthando lwam ( Merry Christmas. My Loves)

Warnings: none

Requested By: @verachii

A/N: lmao I tried. Hope you like it, and enjoy the Holidays. 🤎❄

Y/N Pov

We were spending Christmas at my mother's house, and right now I had Shuri and Riri in the bathroom, trying on ugly Christmas sweaters that my mother had "made."

"Sthandwa, Is this some sort of joke?" Shuri asked. I tried to hold back my laughter, but it wasn't working because tears were streaming down my cheeks. But I quickly wiped my cheeks, trying to maintain my cool.

"Why would I make a joke about something like that? Mama worked really hard on those sweaters! You don't think they're pretty?" I asked her.

"They pretty ugly!" Riri yelled. causing me to chuckle and playfully gasp. "I'm going to tell her you said that, too."

I heard a smacking noise, which caused Riri to yelp and yell at Shuri.

"WHAT! YOU WERE THINKING IT?"

"Enough already. Come out now; my mother is in the driveway." They walked out of the bathroom, and I covered my mouth with my hand, trying not to laugh.

But the expressions on their faces made me burst out laughing. "Y/N, you are very funny. Now what happened to yours?" Shuri asked me, with a bored expression, and her arms are crossed.

But I couldn't respond because I was hysterically laughing. But I quickly stood up when I heard my mother enter the house. She entered the living room, stopped and looked at Shuri and Riri, but continued to walk over to hug me.

"Hello, my baby. How you been?" She asked. I returned her hug and kissed her on the cheek. She stifled a laugh as she turned to face Shuri and Riri. "What the hell y'all got on?" She said, laughing making her way to the kitchen.

"This shit is going on the fridge," I said as I took a picture of them, making myself laugh even harder. Riri was threatening to kick my ass. I was clutching my stomach, from laughing so hard. While Shuri just smirked at me, as if she was planning on getting my ass later.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

"STOP EATING THE JOLLY RANCHERS FROM MY ROOF!" I yelled at Riri. She playfully rolled her eyes at me and continued to decorate the side of her house with frosting. Riri and I were having a gingerbread decorating contest, while my mother, sister, and Shuri were baking sugar cookies.

When "Give Love" by the Jackson 5 came on, I instantly smiled and hummed along to the lyrics. I loved Christmas; it was my favorite time of year, but I was especially happy because it was spent with my two favorite people, along with my family.

People making lists, buying special gifts

Taking time to be kind to one and all

It's that time of year when good friends are near

And you wish you could give more than just presents from a store

I watched Riri place pretzels along her house's walkway, occasionally popping one in her mouth.

"Damn! Can you please finish your house instead of eating the decorations? That's why you are losing." I said, shaking my head. She flipped me off tossing some skittles into her mouth. I shook my head and watched Shuri bring over a hot plate of cookies.

"Those look good, boo. You did a good job." I kissed her on the cheek. She smiled, grabbing my waist and softly kissing me. "AYE! What about me? Where is my good job kiss?" Riri asked Shuri and me.

I raised my eyebrow and crossed my arms. "If you had finished the job you were supposed to do, you'd get a good job kiss! You ate half yo house! Your gingerbread man gon be homeless!" I said. This made both Shuri and me laugh.

She pouted and smacked her teeth. Shuri approached her and kissed her lips, causing her to smile. I walked towards her, and she extended her hand to stop me. "uh-uh, you wanna be funny and shit. You not finna kiss me" She said, giving me the stank face.

I smacked my teeth and grabbed her by her pants, bringing her closer to me and kissed her lips. "Stop, being so bratty and dance with me. This my favorite part."

Why don't you give love on Christmas Day?

Oh the man on the street and the couple upstairs

All need to know there's someone who cares

Give love on Christmas Day

No greater gift is there than love

wrapping my arms around their shoulders and swayed back and forth, singing at the top of my lungs. They smiled at me. And We all sung the next part together.

Give love, oh give love on Christmas day

Every Tom, Dick, and Harry, every Susie too

Needs love every bit as much as you Do

What the world needs is love

Yes, the world needs your love

Give Love, Oh give love on Christmas Day

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

3rd Pov

Everyone had a good time. Eating food, playing games, dancing to music, and telling childhood stories. Except for Shuri, everyone was now asleep on the couch, as the movie was playing. She smiled at Y/N and Riri, who were laying their heads against each other, she then got up and placed a blanket over them, kissing their foreheads.

"IKrisimesi emnandi. Uthando lwam"

[thisdreamplace]

hi dream. it’s 😵‍💫. I see you’re a bit more active lately. how have you been? what’s happening in life for you? (if you’d like to share) I saw you said it’s Spring for you, that’s crazy. I have to remind myself that people live all over the country & world, the seasons are different lol.

any plans for Halloween ? I’m either going to dance or celebrate with my family. I can’t decide but the choices make me feel bitter sweet. it’s a great dance opportunity but I appreciate going trick or treating with my siblings because they’re growing up. one day they’ll be over it. :’) enjoying where we are. I’m hoping I can do both.

in the previous messages, you said “your hair is not ugly. it’s the way you perceive it” that makes sense. There are rare times when I love my hair in certain mirrors but every time I tried to take a selfie or saw it in a different mirror, it looked hideous (today it happened). with my looks as well, sometimes I look pretty. sometimes I don’t. I just saw a picture of me from last month and was surprised that I looked pretty? but then I saw myself in the mirror today and I immediately panicked. someone called me pretty today & I didn’t know how to feel. a part of me started to fight with myself “am I pretty or not? what are they seeing?” yesterday, someone called me cute & the only thing that went through my head is “that’s odd. what are they talking about?” I don’t know what they are seeing.

I was trying to figure out why it keeps happening everyday. why in the hell do I look different every day? what is going on with my perception? any tips on how to navigate through this? I used to think my features were a problem, but I don’t think so. I used to think it was my weight because I gained a few visible pounds. I don’t think my looks should depend on weight though……well, I think. my mom took pictures of me this weekend. the weight didn’t bother me. my stomach was even showing. it’s just some pics were cute, some looked terrible like another person (even in regular angles 😭). like wtf is going on? what do I really look like? 😔

hiiii 😵‍💫 anon <3

i've been well thanks~ actually, i've been really focused on organizing myself in a way that feels good and productive daily. i started working from home and actually, it was hard for a while to really be disciplined with myself hahahah but now i've got a swing of things and its really nice. ive been exploring new places, making new friends, and just trying my best to enjoy my time :') thanks for asking <3

i hope you can do both too! that would be such a darling halloween!🎃 hehe actually for the holiday, i'll be doing my usual tradition. eating pizza and sweets, passing out candy, and watching some of my favorite halloween movies <3 (specifically, halloween (1978) and hocus pocus~) for me these are the true halloween classics i've always watched with my family for many years!! up until then i'll be marathoning halloween dcoms. my partner has never seen any before, so i'm really excited to share that part of my childhood with them~

i think that really unstable perception of yourself is extremely normal!! it really goes back to have an unstable inner self as well. of course, some days you can look entirely different. honestly, you can even look different in the same day!! when we arent very stable in ourselves, our looks can shift and change constantly. ive truly experienced this myself, and its super trippy. more than anything, just keep practicing deciding how you want to feel about yourself, despite anything else!!

xo

[uh-velkommen]

Coming out as Trans, I feel like I've unlocked a new minigame section of life, like I now have access to a world I only ever watched from the sidelines. It's funny how I used to wish I could be part of this community. I always related to the stories I'd hear. So often would I stare at my body in the mirror wishing I could've been born differently. I always felt like there was a part of me missing or that something was wrong. All the stereotypical Trans thoughts were there. I just kept telling myself I only hated the patriarchal norms that were being forced upon me. I only hated my body because of how sexualized it always was. I always wanted to hang out with my brothers friends because they were the only people my age who would come over often. But the past few days, I've been thinking about all the silly things I'd think and do that should've been clearer indications as to who I was/am. (I'm probably gonna continue updating this as I think of more stuff)

I used to try on my brothers clothes, put my hair up in caps and try to look like a boy in pictures.

I tried training myself to speak in a deeper and calmer voice because I hated how high and girly my voice sounded. (I loved having a sore throat because it made my voice deeper while being sick actually made it higher)

I overcompensated when it came to dressing and being girly as a way to bond with my mother despite having no real interest in make up and pedicures. (There's a lot of things that I'd do or want that initially made me think I was cis but we're really just ways that I'd beg to be treated decently or show that I was loved)

I never felt like I was a Lesbian but had no other way to explain my attraction to girls.

I struggled a lot between wondering if I was just a tomboy or butch but found myself relating to Gay men more than butch women.

I literally never ever ever took off my bras because I felt super uncomfortable with the girls moving around.

A lot of the time I worried about upsetting my dad because he was so happy to have finally made a daughter after 4 sons.

My uncle used to have a friend who I could never figure out if she was a boy or a girl (I still don't know to this day) and yet I could never get her out of my head/admired her for being so confounding.

I would get reeeeeaaaaally jealous of Trans women for being beautiful women with boy parts. Sometimes I couldn't fathom why they would give up being a boy as if it were a slice of cake they were refusing "while kids in Africa starved."

I often struggled with questioning if I was dysphoric because of my AGAB or if it was insecurity from my brother calling me fat and ugly all my life.

I was always too scared to come out as lesbian because I knew it felt wrong and on top of that, it wasn't my sexuality that was the big secret I had been keeping. It was something much worse.... my gender.

When I was about 14, Disney released a TV show where the main character was a girl named Dylan and I felt a cosmic shift in learning that women could also have boy names.

I always wanted to do rugged things with my brother. I practically lived vicariously through him, letting him teach me about fighting, parkour, video games, "boyish music" like dubstep. Everything that I didn't have access to. Nowadays I think about how I really just wanted to be him.

I even tried hanging out with my male cousins and family friends more than the women because it felt like this other world that I desperately wanted to understand.

I used to HAAAATE when my uncle would joke around by calling me "little boy" because it felt like he was making fun of my internal struggles.

Sometimes when I wore my hair a certain way I would angrily compare myself to a "little Mexican boy" because why couldn't I look like a pretty Hispanic woman?

The torturous anxiety I'd feel about wearing makeup in public (I literally had a panic attack at prom because my hair stylist put eyeliner on me).

I loved hanging out with the neighborhood Gay kid even though he was like 4 years younger than me because he would let me ride his skateboard. (We found solace in each other bc he got bullied alot and we were both queer - whether I knew it or not)

All my life I've just wanted male friends but I could never obtain a friendship without being sexualized or viewed as an ultimate romantic interest. At the same time I only knew how to interact with boys in a flirtatious manner though it was never intentional.

Shopping for clothes was a whole can of worms in itself but I used to feel sooo uncomfortable going down the aisles of the women's section. All I wanted was to see what the boys section had to offer but I also thought it was entirely off limits to women. Sometimes I pretended I was shopping for my brother or I'd encourage him to let me style him so I could have an excuse to buy the clothes I liked/wanted.

Sometimes I'd want to date boys but only in the way that boys would date boys.

When I found out about intersexuality I got super obsessed with it, wishing that I could've been born with both male and female parts. Sometimes I'd think that maybe I had a hormonal problem where I was just producing too much testosterone and that could explain why I felt like a boy.

The visceral reactions to ANY comments about being a good housewife, a clean girl, a future wife, not being able to do a man's job or otherwise putting men first simply because I was born a girl.

God the constant comments about my butt, my mom used to hate that I'd let my pants sag.

The way I'd get SUPER emotionally affected from reading about the AIDs crisis (along with Stonewall) and the way Trans people were treated. I mean before I was even learning about Lesbianism, I was getting enraged about the way it was handled. I'd cry more reading newspaper articles than at actual funerals. I was completely obsessed with learning more and more stories from real trans people.

Overall, I think I tended to carry myself and walk in a more masculine manner. I feel like I was never this dainty feminine being until adulthood when I'd started becoming reclusive and turning further in on myself.

[limoposeedor]

obsessed

Being a ghost is not an easy task, it is very boring and even more so seeing people live what one cannot live. I was a simple teenager who liked to study, I hardly left the house and the truth is that after a while I realized that I was very ugly In my physical appearance, but through the window I always saw him go by.

A guy who always passed by on my street on his way to the gym always made me stop feeling bad. I felt that he motivated me.

That same afternoon I went out to change my life and exercise but to my bad or good luck I was run over and died but apparently the person who ran over me turned out to be some kind of shaman who, seeing what he did, asked me "if I wanted to have fun" I told him Yes, I don't know why, but now I'm happy with my decision, because at that moment I started to float, I was a ghost, the shaman started driving and told me

"Go and have fun" I already knew what I wanted and I went to the gym to see my idol exercise, I was so happy I looked at him while he took a picture how handsome ..

I got closer to him to see if I could admire his physique more closely but I didn't expect that he could trip me like ghosts, I admit that it is the trip that I thank God the most for giving me. Because when I regained my balance, he was gone, I looked at myself and smiled, I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, there I could see myself, it was him, I looked at his wallet and for the first time I could find out his name or my new name.

I changed my clothes and admired my new body

She had a perfect back and the best of all was her bulge between her legs, thanks Gerardo for motivating me to be you.

I look at Gerardo's cell phone, I unlock it with a fingerprint, I wish I had his memories, but I'm happy with what I already have, I look and see that I'm invited to go to the beach...mm, what should I do? Go to the beach or try to find out about it. his family...

At the end of the information I decided to go there maybe with me and by the way they told me that they would take me to my perfect house for me. No one noticed the change in Gerardo's personality and who would blame them, literally, I'm behaving like him, the only difference is that I'm less talkative but I'll correct that later.

It's been months since I've lived like Gerardo, his mom is the best, mine just told me if I didn't study, he'd throw me out of the house. Today I went to school and I smiled when I saw my face thanks to that I stole many glances. The good thing is that they thought that I smile at them.

I adore this body, apart from being cute and handsome, he is very muscular. Today I was invited to a Halloween party, get ready, here I am.

[crashdevlin]

Losses and Gains 3- From the Rooftops

Author’s Note: This is the third chapter of Losses and Gains, the second part of To Have it All. This is Something More...from Jensen's side!

Summary: Jensen spirals. No one can stop him. no one can steal his focus.

Pairing:  Jensen x Reader, background Reader x Tom Hiddleston

Word count: 3210

Story Warnings: open marriage, mentions of depression and heartbreak, bad things, alcohol as a crutch, anger, fighting

~~~

I’m not sure how I missed the fact that I was starting to spiral, but I was convinced that I was dealing with my depression in a completely reasonable and healthy way. I was lying to myself, but I just couldn’t see that. Dee could. Jared could. Doc Jamison could…oh, and he was vocal about it, judgmental.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little selfish with how you’re acting?” he asked.

I shrugged, looking at the door, wishing I was out in the hall with Danneel. “No. I’m mourning. How’s that selfish?”

“You don’t have a reason to be mourning.”

My eyes went wide at his words, and I turned to look at him. “I don’t?”

“She’s not family. She’s not really a friend. She was a coworker, but she’s not even that anymore, is she? She ran off as soon as she was able. Do you think, perhaps, she knew how toxic this situation was?” I held back a growl and looked away, my jaw tight. “Why are you still in denial of it, Jensen?”

“I’m not in denial, you ass,” I snapped. “I’m in love…and I’m allowed to be, okay?”

“No, you aren’t,” he said, and it felt like I was frustrating him. “You were never supposed to fall in love with her in the first place. You have a loving wife who allowed you to have a sexual relationship with another woman, something that most women would never allow, and you have convinced yourself that you have fallen in love with her. Well, you’ve lost Y/n, Jensen. She broke off your arrangement because it was horrible for everyone involved. You need to move on before you lose Danneel, too.”

“I’m not gonna lose Danneel,” I argued. “That’s fuckin’ stupid.”

If I’d listened to him, if I’d been able to get out of my head, maybe I would have been able to fix it, but…I couldn’t do it. I went home after that doctor’s appointment, and I poured myself a glass of Glenmorangie, and I sat myself down in my office, and I pulled out my phone, and I started scrolling. I started on Instagram, swiping through every picture she’d posted. A pit formed in my stomach when I saw her posting pictures of her and her Marvel costars. The way he looked at her. The way he touched her shoulder. The way she smiled in every shot with him. I wasn’t even seeing the others anymore. Tom fuckin’ Hiddleston was the only one in the pictures with her.

Dee was in the doorway watching me for a good long time before I picked up the bottle and poured another glass. “What?” I snapped, tired. I was so tired.

She let out a sad little gasp and stepped into the office. “Birdie was asking if we could go for a picnic tomorrow. Not a hike, just a picnic in the park. What do you think of that?”

“I don’t know. I’m leavin’ tomorrow night and-”

“And that’s why we would have to do it tomorrow. We could do it for lunch.” I rolled my eyes and took a drink of scotch. “Please, Jensen.”

I was consumed by anger and depression, but I knew I couldn’t say ‘no’. So I nodded. “Tomorrow. I’ll make sandwiches.” Dee kissed my cheek and left with a ‘thank you’. I kept drinking, stalking Y/n’s social media until I found my way to her Facebook and ancient pictures of her and Nate. God, what did she see in him? Scrawny, scraggly, no-dick piece of shit. At least Tom wasn’t this ugly…and he was supposed to be a good guy.

I fell asleep on the recliner in my office, but I got up and had a drink before I went to the kitchen and started to make sandwiches. We went to the park, had lunch, and I tried to focus on the kids because I could barely look at Danneel. Every time I looked at her, my mind told me that she was the reason I felt so much loss.

I slept in the guest room that night. Last chance to sleep with Dee before I left for Vancouver, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I got drunk, passed out in the guest room, and then I left for the airport in the morning with barely a ‘goodbye’. I had a Jack and Coke on the plane…and then another, and another. I stopped drinking two hours before touchdown, but I was lit by then. I was still drunk by the time I climbed into the SUV.

The condo was big…cold…dark…and it felt empty. I noticed that Y/n’s thick coat was gone as soon as I opened the door. I didn’t have to keep searching to know that she’d already been by to grab her things, but I did. I walked through and made note of every single piece of her that she took from me. Every piece of Y/n that Dee took from me. There wasn’t a lot of Y/n’s stuff there, but it was enough that I could see empty spots. I could see her absence. Every room I walked through got me lower and lower. I noticed she left her toothbrush in her rush to get out…and a little 3 oz bottle of her favorite perfume on the sink. It was half empty, but when I picked it up and held it to my nose, I got lost in all these memories of her.

I laid out on the bed and cried like a fucking baby. I cried myself to sleep.

I could barely pull myself out of bed to get to the studio the following day. I had a beer for breakfast before I even got dressed. Clif shook his head at me, but he didn’t say a word. Jared was another story.

“You look like shit, dude.”

“Thanks,” I responded, trying to sound sarcastic.

“Not sure the makeup team can cover those dark circles.”

“They do it for Misha all the time.”

“Come on, man, you gotta buck up.” He reached over and lightly punched my arm, and I looked up at him.

“Buck up? That’s your advice here?”

“My advice is to get the fuck over it,” he said, dropping his voice so others on the lot couldn’t hear him. “And get over it now because she’s coming up behind you, and if you make this hard for her, I’m gonna make the makeup team have to cover some bruises.”

I went stiff as Jared stepped around me, a big smile on his face. “Y/n! What are you doing here? They bring you back already?” I could see him go for a hug out of the corner of my eye, and I wanted so bad to be able to hug her, too, but all I could do was train my facial expression and slowly turn around.

“I’m just here to drop off Jensen’s key before I head back to the states.”

“You could have left it in the apartment, you know?” Jared teased. “Always making shit more complicated than necessary.”

She looked down as she pulled out of the hug, some of that old shyness sparking in her eyes. “I didn’t think about that,” she said, digging into her pocket. I was hoping that she didn’t leave it behind because she wanted to see me again, but the way she refused to meet my eyes told me it was wishful dreaming. She offered the key to me, and I looked away as I took it from her…and then I walked away. I didn’t say anything to her. I didn’t beg her to see the pain in my eyes. I just walked away.

~~~

Things didn’t get better. I was lost. It wasn’t long before I was drinking ‘til I blacked out every night and having the hair of the dog the next morning to get myself going. I’d go to call her after I finished shooting for the night, and as soon as I remembered I couldn’t call her, that she shacked up with Loki, I put down the phone and picked up a bottle instead.

I wasn’t dealing. I was stewing about Dee, only talking to her over text and ignoring her when she called. So, of course, she called Jared. Of course, he made the bad choice to come up to me when I was looking at an InTouch magazine with Y/n on the cover. Y/n and Tom, on the roof of some restaurant in Atlanta. She looked so flustered, just from holding his hand. Fuck. She used to look at me like that.

“Why the fuck aren’t you answering your phone?” Jared stomped up to me, snatching the magazine out of my hand.

“What are you talkin’ about? I answer my phone all the time.”

“Oh, so you just send your wife to voicemail?” I rolled my eyes and reached for the magazine. I wanted to read the paps’ completely correct theories about Tom and Y/n. He moved out of the way, and I stood up, trying to get it. He moved it out of my reach. “Why aren’t you answering Danneel’s calls?”

“Because I don’t wanna talk to her!”

“She’s your wife!”

“She’s the bane of my existence, right now!” I bit back. Jared’s eyes seemed to flash black. He was a bundle of anger and rage so fucking quick.

He looked down at the magazine in his hand and practically growled as he tossed it across the soundstage. He wrapped his hand in the flannel I was wearing and swung my body around like I was a fucking ragdoll until he had me pressed against the closest wall. "I'm getting really fucking sick of this shit, Ackles. Do you have any idea how Y/n would feel about the way you're acting right now?"

"Get the fuck off of-"

"She would be fucking pissed at you," he snapped, pressing me harder into the wall. Dude's big. I couldn’t have done much against him even if I weren’t still drunk. "She never wanted to be a problem in your marriage. You promised her that she wasn’t going to get in between you and Dee. She's not even here, and she's causing you to act like a fucking fool."

"I'm not a-"

"You are throwing away everything, you fucking dumbass, on a woman who isn't even with you anymore!"

"Whose fault is that?! Who chased her out of my life, huh?"

"She gave you permission, and she's allowed to take it back. She-"

"That's not fair! That's not fair to anyone-"

"That's life! Your wife, who you usually love and adore, decided she wasn't comfortable anymore, and you fucking ignored her until she took it into her own fucking hands. Consent given doesn't mean consent forever.” I grabbed at his wrist, but he just shook his head and released me. “Call your wife, set up an appointment with your counselor, and leave the bottle alone, you understand me? Fucking dumbass.”

I watched him walk away, ignoring the stagehands and PAs staring at us in shock. They'd keep quiet about it, but God damn. Was Jared trying to start fucking rumors across the studio? I looked at the magazine, then pulled my phone out.

"You gotta stop calling Jared on me. If I don't wanna talk, I don't have to."

"Jay. Come on. You can't just ignore me about-"

"I fuckin' can. Because just like you were allowed to say whatever the fuck you wanted to say to Y/n, I'm allowed to decide not to talk to you until I'm done being pissed off about what you did. And this isn't helping anything, you know? Badgering me is going to have the opposite effect of the one you're going for."

"I'm not badgering you," she snapped. "I'm just getting tired of chasing you!"

"Then stop!" I snapped as I walked toward my trailer. "Dee, I'm not going to be able to let this go if you keep pissing me off every other day."

"I'm so sorry that me trying to save our marriage pisses you off so fucking much! When you decide you want to talk to me again, just let me know."

Then she hung up on me. Part of me was angry at her audacity, but mostly I was happy that I wouldn't have to worry about dodging her calls for a while. I was being a dick, but I couldn’t see past how I was feeling. Something in my brain wouldn't let me see how I was fucking everything up. I wanted to feel how I felt, and nothing was going to get in the way of that, not Dee and not Jared and definitely not Dr. Douchebag.

~~~

Things with Jared were tense for the next couple of weeks, especially after he came to me to show a post some fan made, accusing me of cheating on Dee with Y/n. The fan obviously didn't know what went down, but they got really fucking close with their guesses. As soon as I read it, I knew Y/n must be freaking out, but I couldn't bring myself to do the same. Part of me wanted the whole thing out in the open, so I could get some support from somewhere, even if it was from the fans who would agree with me no matter what I did.

Jared was watching me, expectantly, as I read through the post. I'm sure he thought I'd freak out too, but I just shrugged. "Who gives a fuck?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"It's a bunch of allegations from a fan who said, themselves, that they hope they're crazy."

"This is right on the edge of you being caught. Don't you care about the rules anymore?"

"I'm not gonna get caught because I'm not doing anything. Tell Y/n it doesn't fucking matter," I said, completely dismissing him as I walked away from him to go sulk in my trailer for a few minutes. "This is the stupidest shit. Still gotta be worried about getting caught when I don't even have her anymore."

I started pacing. What other option did I have to get the angry energy out? I wasn't supposed to drink because that's selfish. I wasn’t supposed to sulk because that's selfish. I wasn’t supposed to feel because that's fucking selfish! So I paced, and I got angrier...and then I took a drink. Not a strong one or a big one...just enough of a beer to get me level so I could shoot my next scenes.

"I got her to calm down," Jared said when I got back to the Bunker set. "But she's fucking worried about you."

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine."

"That why you smell like beer? Cause you're fine?"

I clicked my tongue against my teeth and turned away. "How about you and Y/n mind your own damn business, and I'll mind mine?"

"You are my business, Ackles, and if you're acting like an idiot because of Y/n, then it's her business too."

I shook my head. "Actually, it's not. I'm fine. Whether I've gotta have a bit of something to help me through the day or not, it doesn’t matter because I'm making it through. I'm doing my job, so why don't you focus on yours?" I asked, pointedly, as Phil Sgriccia settled into his chair.

Jared just shook his head at me.

~~~

A couple of days later, a week at the most, I got done shooting and grabbed my phone. I hovered my thumb over Y/n’s contact for a minute, thinking about calling her, checking on her, professing my love again and hoping she'd care, or even just to tell her I forgave her and hoped she would extend the same courtesy...but I didn’t. I parked my ass on one of the stools at the breakfast bar in my trailer and Googled her name. Not in a stalker way, just to check up on her and her career.

A dozen tabloid articles popped up. "Tom Hiddleston Declares Love For Marvel Costar" and "What We Know About Tom and Y/n" and "Tom Shocks Fans With Facebook Post". I clicked on whatever the Daily Mail wrote and was taken to Tom’s Facebook page. I gasped a little at the picture of Y/n. It was obviously taken without her knowledge and definitely shared without her permission. She was in just an oversized black t-shirt, not hers. She was standing in a hotel room, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window, wearing just his fucking shirt...and he posted that for the world to see.

Under the picture was a block of text.

6 months ago saw a rewrite to the Marvel Cinematic Shorts Anthology script, which brought a new minor character. Kevin Feige knew who he wanted in the role before the script was even done being altered; a relatively unknown actress with a single acting credit to her name- y/f/n y/l/n. I was immediately drawn to the woman and asked her for drinks before we’d finished in Hair and Makeup the morning I met her. I’d fallen in love before the week was out. Y/n is a private woman, not used to being so in the public eye, so I acceded to her request for discretion, portraying myself as her friend whenever someone might be looking. I tried to convince her several times that we should go public over the past 2 months and she dismissed each attempt. This morning I discovered the reason. She’s expecting I will leave. She doesn’t want anyone profiting on her heartbreak or to give them a reason to judge or, worse, pity her. But I’m not planning to leave. I have no desire to be another on her short list of past relationships. I’ve resisted the urge to shout the truth of my heart from the rooftops, but no longer. I’m in love with this sweet Southern woman and leaving her is not an option for my heart.

I read it twice, my heart pounding in my ears. As pissed as I was when she walked away, it was nothing compared to the rage I felt reading that post. He told the world. He shouted his love from social media rooftops. He praised her in public in a way I could never have done. They were real. They were going to last. As I imagined the marriage proposal that was sure to come and be announced in a similar public fashion in the next few months, I couldn’t hold the anger back anymore. My phone hit the fridge door, denting the stainless steel and breaking into a hundred pieces of glass, plastic, and electrical components. Since it was closest, the Kuerig was next to fly, hitting the TV and creating a spiderweb of cracks across the screen. I grabbed the stool next, bashing it into the floor over and over until I lost the steam of my anger, and I dropped to the floor to pant and let out a few angry tears...which turned into me sobbing on the floor among my broken belongings.